Page 70 of Shadow Ticket
“Where I come from, that’s where corruption got invented, so you might want to save yourself the trouble.”
“Oh. Well, maybe you could corrupt me, then.”
“Sure. Might have to clear it first with the Home Office back in Chicago. Meantime here’s ‘Embraceable You,’ if you’re interested.”
She borrows a pair of shoes from Zsófi and off they go. The rhythm situation in here is more up-to-date than expected, owing to the bass contratheremin that’s keeping the beat. After a few more numbers Terike’s off in the ladies’ lounge and Hicks has almost drifted into one of those hoofer trances when a voice from somewhere, likely the bar, pipes up in English—
“Hi, I’m Judge Crater, any phone calls for me?”
Hicks has a doubtful squint at this energetic arrival, “Slide” Gearheart, freelance foreign correspondent, loud, hat slightly off-angle, old enough to know better but still playing eager juvenile and wised-up newshound. “Evenin’, kiddies, who’s got the smokes?” Chiseling cigarettes two at a time (“OPs, my favorite brand”), one to hang off his lip, another to stash behind his ear. “I try never to kid a kidder,” he addresses Hicks, “so here it is, straight up—” with a jay facial expression it’s taken him years to perfect.
“Uh, huh, Slide, I’m just about scrapin through on per diem down in the coffee-and bracket, which ain’t even always waiting for me at the pay window, OK, so if any of this is gonna cost me money—”
“Know the story, got some expenses myself, couple of bad habits, tell you what, meet me here,” handing over a small business card, “tomorrow, if you can use any of it, pay me what it’s worth to you, we can work out an installment schedule.” Hicks glances at the address and when he looks back up Slide isn’t there, which from experience with quick-fade artists leads Hicks to believe maybe he should follow this up after all.
Terike returns, back in motorcycle boots, and that seems to be about it for the evening.
—
Slide is oftenheard whistling “The Best Things in Life Are Free.” “Which,” he likes to remind people, “means thenextto best things in life are cheap,” usually when introducing a sales pitch of some kind.
“The way I hear it is, is you’re looking for a certain cheez heiress, who is informally attached to a certain swing band, correct?”
“That’s what the ticket says, but I keep hitting detour signs.”
“Hate to be the one you heard this from first, but…” Seems at some point the Klezmopolitans have broken up. Daphne and Hop’s whereabouts are suddenly unknown, changing the ticket from a common or everyday skip to a skip into the current disarray of Central Europe, a terrain nearly 100 percent unreadable. “Swell dame and all, but if you find her don’t mention me, she considers me for some reason gutter press at its worst.” Slide catches this sort of thing daily, another bum’s rush and so what, “My job, after all, and more educational than it looks,” shaking a new set of wrinkles out of his suit, ambling off down corridor or alleyway, bleakly chuckling. “Hey, it’s Hungary, insult is poetry here, where else would they tell you to go climb onto Death’s penis?”
“Whoo. Really?”
“Try it sometime out in the street,Menj a halál faszára.”
“Yeah but…wait, now, you’re saying Death has a, a penis?”
“Who knew, huh? Don’t worry, it’s only for minor annoyances, on the full spectrum of Hungarian insult it’s just an everyday howdy-do.”
“Not an easy language to get a handle on.”
“Listen to me, this population, nobody from anywhere else is ever going to fade into it, the best we can hope for is maybe they’ll think we’re German. Hundreds of dialects out here, if you even look like you speak any of them somebody will figure you for a spy and take steps, so best stick to English and there’s a chance they’ll take you for an idiot and leave you alone. It might help if you could also pretend now and then to hear voices they don’t. Idiots get respect out here, they’re believed to be in touch with invisible forces.”
To be honest Hicks would much rather be back on a westbound liner, steaming express, back to league bowling nights, Friday fish fries, cheering on those Badgers again…
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Slugger, this is just the first stage, you’re not even homesick yet.”
“OK, maybe this ticket is takin longer than it should, but that don’t mean—”
“Yeah? How about forever? That doesn’t strike you as a possibility?”
“You mean forever like ‘always’?”
“Well, till you screw up, anyway, and somebody decides to bump you off.”
If Hicks is looking for sympathy better he should seek it elsewhere. “This ear is not for bending, only for getting thrown out on.”
Meantime Slide keeps up on all the latest inside dope, from trivial to world-historic. After years spent around copydesks and journalist hangouts, he’s learned to tell when something’s being kept back so readers don’t get too nervous. “The smart money is on war, sometime in the next ten years.”
“Thanks for the tip, where can I put down a bet?”
“No place that won’t be wiped out in the first day of fighting.”
