Page 106 of Shadow Ticket
(Se vi pare),”
Yes and so it is, if
That’s-how, it-looks, to you…
no use say-ing,
“Whoa, oops, I’m sor-ray,”
Just ’cause you don’t see
What all them others do…
With the sky full
Of storms and thunder,
Thinkin they’re under
Some heaven of blue,
Ehi, don’t worry!
mah ol’goombah-ray, co-wo-wo-
-sì è…se, vi, pa-re…
—
Sometime in thedawn hours of the first day of a post-American life, passing from a brief moment of hopefulness into the outer fringes of whatever it is that’s coming, Hicks has been dreaming he’s someplace back on theprairie, in an old lopsided telephone booth warped by the wind, snowed and hailed on, run into by cars and farm wagons, assaulted by hungry drifters looking for all those nickels in the box.
Onto which he drops in another, dials a number without thinking much about it till later, when he remembers it’s a TRIangle exchange number in Chicago, same as Al Capone’s mother has. After a few rings, “Who’s this, and it better be good.”
“It’s Hicks, who’s this?”
“Hicks, what the hell.”
“Ma?”
“Last time I checked. How about you?”
“Where are you?”
“Better not say much. They listen in.”
“Who?”
“The ones I work for.”
“Same ones?”
“Yep.”
“Ma, can’t you see what they are?”
“It’s not for everybody, Sunshine.”
“But if you decided to quit—”
