Serenade - James M. Cain [37]
I opened the valise, put my hat in it, and he went on. "Inquire of the busman, and get off as near what they call the Plaza as you can. In that neighborhood are many small hotels catering to Mexicans of the town, and you will attract no attention. Register as Mr. and Mrs. Perhaps you will not believe it, but under American laws you must write it so, and so long as you do, they will not care. In the morning, get up very early, and as soon as you can, get a hat on her. I have packed all her shawls, and forbidden her to carry one, as they will betray her sooner than anything else. I doubt if she has ever had a hat on in her life, so be careful that you pick one yourself, a little hat exactly like all the other hats in the place. When you have bought the hat, buy her a little dress. I know nothing of girls' clothes myself, but her little things make me think of Mexico, and sharper eyes than mine might become suspicious. Buy her a dress like every other dress in the place. When you have bought her a hat and bought her a dress, you can breathe easier about illegal entry. Her accent will attract no attention. In America are as many accents as the countries of the world, and she could have lived here all her life and still speak as she does. But the clothes will mark her. She should meet few Mexicans. There is a belief among them that the United States government pays informers against immigrants of her kind. It does not, but one of them might turn her in for the sake of the legendary reward. As soon as you can, get work. A working man is his own answer to all questions, an idle man is a riddle they all try to guess. It would be a good idea if she learned to read and write."
We got out at the bus stop, and shook hands, and then she put her arms around him and kissed him. He was shaken up as I stepped over to help him into the cab. "And you'll mind what I've been telling you, lad?--about her, and Mexico, and all the rest of it?"
"I'll mind. For the rest of my life."
"See that you do. For the rest of your life."
Chapter 7
We found a little hotel, a two-dollar joint on Spring Street, and didn't have any trouble. It was about what you would expect, but after Mexico it was like a palace, and they gave us a room with a shower, so she was happy. After she had splashed enough water to suit her, she came and lay in my arms, and I lay there thinking about how we were starting our life together in my own country, and wanted to say something about it, but next thing I knew she was asleep. We got up early the next morning, and as soon as the stores were open, went out to get that hat. Then we got a dress and a light coat. The hat was $1.95, the dress $3.79, and the coat $6. That left us $38 out of her 500 pesos. We stopped by a little restaurant, had a little breakfast, and then I took her back to the hotel and went out to find work.
First thing I did was wire my agent in New York, the one that had sent me down to Mexico. I told her I was all right again, and to see what she could do, as I wanted to get going. Then I bought a Variety, the Hollywood edition, and looked in there to see if any agents carried ads. Quite a few of them did, and the one that seemed to be what I wanted was named Stoessel, and had offices in Hollywood, so I got on a bus and went out there. It took me an hour to get in to see him, and he never even bothered to look at me. "Brother, out here singers are a drug on the market, and they've quit fooling with them. They've had them all, and how many come through? Eddy, MacDonald, Pons, Martini, and Moore--and even Pons and Martini ain't so hot. The rest of them, flops, nothing but flops. And it ain't only that they flop, they have a hell of a time getting stories for them. They're through with singers. When they want a singer, little production number maybe, they