Breakfast at Tiffanys-24
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I was too sore and shaky to dress myself; Joe Bell had to help. Back at his bar hepropped me ielephone booth with a triple martini and a brandy tumbler full ofs. But I couldnt think who to tact. José was in Washington, and I had nonotioo reach him there. Rusty Trawler? Not that bastard! Only: what otherfriends of hers did I know? Perhaps shed been right when shed said she had really.I put through a call to Crestview 5-6958 in Beverly Hills, the number longdistanformation gave me for O.J. Berman. The person who answered said Mr.
Berman was having a massage and couldnt be disturbed: sorry, try later. Joe Bellwas insed -- told me I should have said it was a life ah matter; and heinsisted on my trying Rusty. First, I spoke to Mr. Trawlers butler -- Mr. and Mrs.
Trawler, he announced, were at dinner and might he take a message? Joe Bellshouted into the receiver: "This is urgent, mister. Life ah." The oute wasthat I found myself talking -- listening, rather -- to the f Wildwood: "Areyou starkers?" she demanded. "My husband and I will positively sue anyone whoattempts to ect our names with that ro-ro-rovolting and de-de-degee girl. Ialways knew she -hop-head with no more morals than a hound-bitheat. Prison is where she belongs. And my husband agrees ohousand pert.
We will positively sue anyone who -- " Hanging up, I remembered old Doc down inTulip, Texas; but no, Holly wouldnt like it if I called him, shed kill me good.
I rang California again; the circuits were busy, stayed busy, and by the time O.J.
Berman was on the line Id emptied so many martinis he had to tell me why I honing him: "About the kid, is it? I know already. I spoke already to Iggy Fitelstein.
Iggys the best shingle in New York. I said Iggy you take care of it, sehe bill,only keep my name anonymous, see. Well, I owe t<bdi></bdi>he kid something. Not that I oweher anything, you want to e down to it. Shes crazy. A phony. But a real phony,you know? Anyway, they only got her ihousand bail. Dont worry, Iggyllsprionight -- it wouldnt surprise me shes home already."
But she wasnt; nor had she returhe m when I went down to feedher cat. Having o the apartment, I used the fire escape and gairahrough a window. The cat was in the bedroom, and he was not alone: a man wasthere, croug ove<bdi>..</bdi>r a suitcase. The two of us, each thinking the other a burglar,exged unfortable stares as I stepped through the window. He had a prettyface, lacquered hair, he resembled José; moreover, the suitcase hed been pagtaihe wardrobe José kept at Hollys, the shoes and suits she fussed over,was always carting to menders and ers. And I said, certain it was so: "Did Mr.
Ybarra-Jaegar send you?"
"I am the cousin," he said with a wary grin and just-perable at.
"Where is José?"
He repeated the question, as though translating it into another language. "Ah,where she is! She is wailing," he said and, seeming to dismiss me, resumed his valetactivities.
So: the diplomat lanning a powder. Well, I wasnt amazed; or in theslightest sorry. Still, what a heartbreaking stunt: "He ought to be horse-whipped."
The cousin giggled, Im sure he uood me. He shut the suitcase andproduced a letter. "My cousin, she ask me leave that for his chum. You will oblige?"
On the envelope was scribbled: For Miss H. Golightly -- Courtesy Bearer.
I sat down on Hollys bed, and hugged Hollys cat to me, a as badly forHolly, every iota, as she could feel for herself.
"Yes, I will oblige."
And I did: without the least wanting to. But I hadnt the ce to destroy theletter; or the will power to keep it in my pocket when Holly very tentatively inquiredif, if by any <bdi></bdi>ce, Id had news of José. It was tws later; I was sitting byher bedside in a room that reeked of iodine and bedpans, a hospital room. She hadbeen there sihe night of her arrest. "Well, darling," shed greeted me, as Itiptoed toward her carrying a carton of Pie cigarettes and a wheel of umnviolets, "I lost the heir." She looked not quite twelve years: her pale vanillahair brushed back, her eyes, for once minus their dark glasses, clear as rain water --one couldnt believe how ill shed been.
Yet it was true: "Christ, I nearly cooled. No fooling, the fat woman almost had me.
She was yakking up a storm. I guess I couldnt have told you about the fat woman.
Since I didnt know about her myself until my brother died. Right away I wasw where hed gone, what it meant, Freds dying; and then I saw her, shewas there in the room with me, and she had Fred cradled in her arms, a fat meanred bitch rog in a rog chair with Fred on her lap and laughing like a brassband. The mockery of it! But its all thats ahead for us, my friend: this edieing to give you the old razz. Now do you see why I went crazy and brokeeverything?"
Except for the lawyer O.J. Berman had hired, I was the only visitor she had beenallowed. Her room was shared by other patients, a trio of triplet-like ladies who,examinih an i not unkind but total, speculated in whispered Italian.
Holly explaihat: "They think youre my downfall, darling. The fellow what doneme wrong"; and, to a suggestion that she set them straight, replied: "I t. Theydont speak English. Anyway, I wouldnt dream of spoiling their fun." It was then thatshe asked about José.
The instant she saw the letter she squinted her eyes a her lips in a toughtiny smile that advanced her age immeasurably. "Darling," she instructed me, "wouldyou rea the d<var></var>rawer there and give me my purse. A girl doeshis sort ofthing without her lipstick."
Guided by a pact mirror, she powdered, painted every vestige of twelve-yearoldout of her face. She shaped her lips with oube, colored her cheeks fromanother. She pehe rims of her eyes, blued the lids, sprinkled her neck with4711; attached pearls to her ears and donned her dark glasses; thus armored, andafter a displeased appraisal of her manicures shabby dition, she rippe<tt></tt>d opeer a her eyes race through it while her stony small smile grew smaller andharder. Eventually she asked for a Pie. Took a puff: "Tastes bum. But divine,"
she said and, tossihe letter: "Maybe this will e in handy -- if you everwrite a rat-romance. Dont be hoggy: read it aloud. Id like to hear it myself."
It began: "My dearest little girl -- "
Holly at oerrupted. She wao know what I thought of the handwriting.
I thought nothing: a tight, highly legible, uric script. "Its him to a T.
Buttoned up and stipated," she declared. "Go on."
"My dearest little girl, I have loved you knowing you were not as others. Butceive of my despair upon disc in such a brutal and public style how verydifferent you are from the manner of woman a man of my faith and career couldhope to make his wife. Verily I grief for the disgrace of your present circumstand do not find it in my heart to add my n to the n that surroundsyou. So I hope you will find it in your heart not to n me. I have my family toprotect, and my name, and I am a coward where those institutioer. Fet me,beautiful child. I am no longer here. I am gone home. But may God always be withyou and your child. May God be not the same as -- José."
"Well?"
"In a way it seems quite ho. And even toug."
"Toug? That square-ball jazz!"
"But after all, he says hes a coward; and from his point of view, you must see -- "
Holly, however, did not want to admit that she saw; yet her face, despite itsetic disguise, fessed it. "All right, hes not a rat without reason. A supersized,King Kong-type rat like Rusty. Benny Shacklett. But oh gee, golly goddamn,"
she said, jamming a fist into her mouth like a bawling baby, "I did love him. Therat."
The Italian trio imagined a lovers crise and, plag the blame for Hollysgroanings where they felt it belout-tutted their to me. I wasflattered: proud that anyone should think Holly cared for me. She quieted when Ioffered her anarette. She swallowed and said: "Bless you, Buster. And blessyou for being such a bad jockey. If I hadnt had to play Calamity Jane Id still belooking forward to the grub in an unwed mamas home. Strenuous exercise, thatswhat did the trick. But Ive scared la merde out of the whole badge-department bysaying it was because Miss Dykeroo slapped me. Yessir, I sue them on severalts, including false arrest."
Until then, wed skirted mention of her more siribulations, and this jestingrefereo them seemed appalling, pathetic, so definitely did it reveal hoable she was nizing the bleak realities before her. "Now, Holly," I said,thinking: be strong, mature, an uncle. "Now, Holly. We t treat it as a joke. Wehave to make plans."
"Youre too young to be stuffy. Too small. By the way, what business is it ofyours?"
"None. Except youre my friend, and Im worried. I mean to know what you intenddoing."
She rubbed her nose, and trated on the ceiling. "Todays Wednesday, isntit? So I suppose Ill sleep until Saturday, really get a good schluffen. Saturdaym Ill skip out to the bank. Then Ill stop by the apartment and pick up anightgown or two and my Mainbocher. Following which, Ill report to Idlewild. Where,as you damn well know, I have a perfectly fine reservation on a perfectly fine plane.
And since youre such a friend Ill let you wave me off. Please stop shaking yourhead."
"Holly. Holly. You t do that."
"Et pourquoi pas? Im not hot-footing after José, if thats what you suppose.
Acc to my sus, hes strictly a citizen of Limboville. Its only: why should Iwaste a perfectly fiicket? Already paid for? Besides, Ive never been to Brazil."
"Just what kind of pills have they been feeding you here? t you realize, youreunder a criminal indit. If they catch you jumping bail, theyll throw away thekey. Even if you get away with it, youll never be able to e home."
"Well, so, tough titty. Anyway, home is where you feel at home. Im still looking."
"No, Holly, its stupid. Youre i. Youve got to stick it out."
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