The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [124]
Down the four flights of green carpeted stairs. And at a quick pace, up the street. I've got a nice little niche up there with Mary. She can't get enough. And I can't say I'm capable of much more. Got to ask the Doon for advice. They say if you don't give them enough they go looking elsewhere. Send me apples from New England and a few spices from the East as well. Keep me supplied with juice. O.K. MacDoon what have you got for me? I'm a little drained with Mary after so much. And I can remember times in the days of my youth, spent tinkering with buttons, straps and pins, twisting, pulling and breaking, trying to get it. Now I wouldn't be up to it. Just take it off, darlin'. This is surfeit for sure. A man who reveled in saucy escapades and perversion until it brought about his death at ninety-seven. Mary can be petulant. Didn't like the look in her eye when I asked her to hand me my socks from the back of the chair. Sign of rebellion. Might get to be the hard woman after awhile. Got to watch it. And keeps her own things in her own drawer and her own towel. A bit scruffy anyway. Had me by the wrists when she was on top with that look, see if you can get out of this one. I've got a few things up my sleeve to deal with that nonsense. She didn't like it much when I slipped my arm around her leg and gave it the Egyptian twist until she was biting her lip and almost cried.
"Mac, for God's sake where is it?"
"O I've got it, Danger. Now quiet your poor suffering soul and Jesus give me a minute to tell you a little story. Now once there was a man in Ireland walking along a country road and he met two little girls whom he asked to come and play with him. He said it was just a naughty little game and he would give them a bag of chocolates. And so the little girls played the game and he gave them the bag. When the man was gone they opened it and it was filled with stones."
"Stop. Stop. Give us it for Christ's sake. Where's the letter, the letter?"
"Now take a seat. May be your last in poverty. And the only way to enjoy richery is to remember paupery days. Reports, Danger, are coming in that you haven't been out of the bed since she arrived and I'll tell you straight to your face that it's a disgrace that a good Christian such as yourself would indulge in such lasciviousness as to keep you indoors for three days,"
"Mac, I'm beside myself. My heart can't take this type of treatment"
"I've only one request to make. That I give it to you on my silver platter."
"Give it to me on any fucking thing. Serve it with your prick if you like but give it to me."
"Ah here we are. Here we are Danger, on me own silver platter dating back to the time of the Geeks who were Gooks from Gaul."
A finger parting the envelope. Unfolding this bond paper. The law. At the end, eyes riveted on this:
—a sum held in trust to provide an income not to exceed six thousand dollars per annum which income is to commence upon your attaining the age of forty-seven at which time—
You'll find me prostrate and completely mad.
Mac swilling hot water in his little brown teapot. Said it was a special kind of tea he was using from Shaba Gompa.
All I want
Is one break
Which is not
My neck.
29
Christmas. Lying here on my back listening to carol singers in the street Two weeks ago today I woke up in this room and Mary was gone. Left a note on the little table and said she loved me anyway and only hoped I didn't mean all the things I said to her.
And Mac had said he met her on the street and talked to her and she was asking for me and how was I and did I eat enough and why did I have to behave like that when she was willing to help. Mac said she got a part in a play. And a job posing. Outsizes in underwear.
I've not enjoyed this desperation. But I've never once said I'll give up. Mrs. Ritzincheck says she must have the rent O I know