The Dark Arena - Mario Puzo [106]
Mosca made himself not feel anything, not do anything. He was ashamed now and fearful of what would happen because of the fight in the club. He had to be careful not to make any mistakes. Gravely, without anger or menace, he picked up the cardboard box and slipped it into his jacket. He said politely, reasonably, “Come to the house with me and I'll give you the twenty cartons tonight and the money. I'll try to get you the rest of the cigarettes in the next few days and then you give the money back.”
Yergen saw that nothing could keep Mosca from leaving with the drugs. He felt a moment of fear, a weakness of blood He was no coward but jvas always afraid that his daughter would be left alone in the ruined land. He went behind the partition to arrange the blankets over his sleeping child and then went through the doorway of the other partition for his hat and coat. They walked to Mosca's house without exchanging a word.
Mosca let Yergen wait for his pay until he had given Hella a codeine tablet. She was still awake and he could see in the dark the white outline of the swollen jaw.
“How is it?” he asked softly, speaking almost in a whisper so as not to awaken the baby in the carriage.
She whispered to him, “It hurts very much.”
“Here's something for the pain.” He gave her one of the large, red-shelled codeine tablets and he could see her pushing it down her throat with her finger and then drinking the water from the glass he held to her lips. “I'll be right back,” he said.
He made a package, bulky and untidy, of the cigarette cartons. He brought it to the door and gave it to Yergen, then took from his wallet the American Express checks, signed them, and put the blue thin paper in Yergen's pocket. Out of politeness and some remorse, he asked, “Will you have trouble because of curfew? Shall I take you back?”
“No, I have a curfew pass,” Yergen said, and then with a soft laugh, the bulky cigarettes under his arm cheering him up, “an essential businessman.”
Mosca let him out, locked the door, and returned to the bedroom. Helia was still awake. He lay down beside her, not undressing. He told her what had happened at the club and that he had to go to Frankfort the next day.
“T'll get those papers and in a month well be out of here, on a plane to the States,” he whispered to her. He told her stories about his mother and Alf and how glad they would both be to see her. He made it all sound sure and easy, inevitable. He could feel her getting warm and sleepy and then suddenly she asked, “C, an I have another tablet?” He got up to give it to her and held the water to her lips again. Then before she fell asleep he told her about the penicillin and to go to a doctor the next day to get some shots. “I'll call up every night from Frankfort,” he said. “I won't be away three days even.” When she fell into a sleep in which she did not even breathe he smoked a few cigarettes in a chair by the window, watching the ruins of the city fresh and clear in the autumn moonlight. Then he put on the light in the kitchen and packed his blue gym bag with a few things he would need for the trip. He made himself some eggs and tea, hoping the food would help him sleep. He lay beside Hella again and waited for dawn.
twenty-one
Through the curtain of heavy, exhausted slumber and codeine Hella heard the short angry wails of hunger. Fully awake it gave her a feeling of pleasant anxiety, knowing how easily she could still the infant; she listened, then left her bed to prepare the bottle.
She felt weak though she had slept well the last two nights. The constant use of codeine had taken effect and the pain in her head and mouth was numbed. She reached up and felt surprised and shocked that her fingers and cheek met so quickly. Her face had swollen even more during the night but die had felt no pain. Waiting for the baby's milk to heat