Chapter 15 14

------------------ 14 "Just because you owe me money, and a lot of money at that, is there any reason to avoid old friends?" "Money?" I said on a borrowed phone. "Oh. That sum." "Don't worry, you can pay me back later. Listen, I have a lot to tell you. Where are you now?" "Not too far." I concealed the real situation. "Come on then. Me and the girls are getting ready to go to the masquerade--for me." "Girls?" "A small episode in life. Hey, do you have any formal clothes with you?" Did I bring my formal clothes?Muttering, I dashed under the turnstile, into the rush hour crowd.Of course I do, Leo, I thought, and squeezed onto the D train to Brighton Beach.It's a pity that all the clothes are left in the hotel.

The car door tried to close, but hit my shoulder and opened again, and I squeezed a big fat man's ass with my hipbones, who was clinging to another person I didn't know.The door tried again, before it slammed shut.The train staggered to and fro, the compartments were crowded, and the thin air smelled of sweat, wet clothes, and stale perfume. Bang bang bang bang bang.The train rumbled into the tunnel, the car was swaying from side to side, I turned to face the small window on the door, looked at the whizzing light and shadow outside the car, pretended that I was the only one in the car, pretended that there was no human behind me In microcosm, without the hundreds of people with their heads full of desires and worries and fears, without people with stomachs full of food, without Puerto Ricans, whites and blacks mingling like rainbow sherbet.

Clang clang clang clang, the gigantic steel integrator sang cheerfully as it squeezed people together and galloped blindly through the dark caverns of New York City.I closed my eyes and rested my head against the door, letting the roar of metal shake me and make me numb.Bang bang bang bang bang, it's like a lyric into my brain; my dad seems to be riding this murderous subway.I tried not to think about it, but I couldn't help myself.He was probably paralyzed in this car, we only know that he slowly collapsed on the ground, no one paid attention to him, when the train arrived at the station, people stepped on him, and a group of people who were as tired as him finally put him on the ground. deadly.subway!There should be a law that makes it mandatory for my old co-workers to ride the subway for a year - those bastard slackers always complaining about how hard their jobs are, they take great nine hours of class a week, and the rest It's time to write deceitful lesson plans, and so on.Just let them stay in the subway, and hang them with a rope until their backs hurt and their backs bend, sucking up the stale air exhaled by thousands of people with backaches and backaches.Hey shit, why am I in such pain?They get regular checks, eat big meals, drive new cars, and live in comfort, but why should I be jealous of them?I wish they would stop being so self-important, and be a little more humble, and a little more sympathetic to what's going on in the other world.In this other world I have seen grown-ups fight and cry over a humble crumb.The thing is just weird—I mean their way of life, spitting out highbrow clichés and then coming home to gorging themselves until they were overweight and seriously ill.They may even die two years earlier than ordinary people due to high cholesterol or liver cirrhosis, which makes the score unbalanced, score?What score?You still keep track of points, who the hell are you?

The car stopped, spit out a small group of rabble from the open door and swallowed another small group, the door closed, the body jerked, fell backwards, and then accelerated forward.After a never-ending airlessness, the train finally emerges from the tunnel and climbs the dark streets of Brooklyn, rattling past miles of roofs, curtained windows and a line of frozen clothes hanging out to dry .Brighton Beach finally arrived, and I squeezed my way out onto the waiting lane, getting pushed and fucked by the outward crowd, getting dizzy and stumbling like I was drunk.Get some money from Leo and get out of here asap, I swear, tonight.

When I reached the street, I found that it was already dark.The rotting air was damp, and then a dense sleet fell.The shoes under my feet hadn't been dry since I left Goublesville, and now they walked through the mud of the street.On both sides of the street, there are food stores as far as the eye can see-bakery, deli, fruit shop, etc., and every night market is booming, as if deliberately trying to show off to a penniless person like me.Damn, no matter which way I choose I'm going to pass the inescapable window displays of custard filled brioche and saccharine, smoked salmon and roast chicken, and sausage skewers hanging like Christmas decorations.That's weird, I can't remember the last time - if ever - I bought whatever I wanted.This is without a doubt a good place for Leo to buy whatever he wants, enough for his 300 pounds.For me, however, this place only adds to my misery.I either steal or kill myself.Goobsville, though a wild and unprofitable place, was better than here.

I passed the shop quickly and came to the narrow alley, which was lined with brick buildings on both sides, and the tall buildings pressed on me like they were trying to squeeze out the marrow of my bones.I stumbled blindly into knee-deep puddles, damn it, and I flicked my feet and kept going. "Adevaco," read a button in the hallway of the apartment.I pressed nervously. "Is that you, Nudelman?" Leo's voice came from the loudspeaker at the door. "I just want to make sure you're not some wicked sex killer who cut my balls off to get my medal," he said.I stood there feeling like I was short—certainly there wasn't going to be any good wine here to cheer me up.God, how should I speak?

"Maybe it's Alex the ass who—" "Leo! I'm soaking wet. Please let me in!" I yelled, slamming the button box.Let him shake his head. When I stepped out of the elevator, the door of Leo's house was wide open, and standing at the door was Leo's best friend Lily. "Yeah!" I said as lightly as I could, and gave her a hasty kiss on the gum-chewing cheek - Lily was wearing his boyfriend's underwear as usual, with the waistband pulled down to her pointy bare breasts Down below, the socks were pulled down to mid-thighs—the outfit looked uncomfortable, but I'm not here to comment on her pajamas.

"Come in, come in," Leo said, tightening his tuxedo pants on his belly.The small space in the room was bustling with strangers in all kinds of costumes—probably not the right place to discuss personal financial matters. "This is Walter." "Hello," said Walter, smiling, busy adjusting his girdle. "Walter just got out of Bellevue," Leo said nonchalantly. "He tried to kill himself—oh, this is Gale." He pointed to a girl who had just come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. "Don't try to figure out the relationship between people here." Leo said, raising his eyelids.His two very thick eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead. "Even I haven't figured it out yet. Bridge, that's a nuisance," he said, laughing.

"Listen, Leo, I can't stay too long. One of the reasons I'm here is—" I tried to guide him slowly into the bedroom. "I'm glad you're here. Just sit here. God, you don't look so good. You look so different when you're in Goobsville than when you come into town. All around you It's squirrels and trees and grass, don't worry about it - you look so peaceful and peaceful," he said with a smile. "Lee—" I wanted to say to him again. "But here it is- come on, relax. Sit down. Want a drink? Want something to eat? Go ahead, wait, let me tell you what happened before you do anything else."

"Oh?" I pretended to be interested, but my heart sank. His boasting only made me more worried. "Nudelman," he said with a smile, "I don't know what to tell you." "Speak." I said a little impatiently. "I'm done. Done. That's what I'm celebrating. Made it. Quite!" "Ok?" "Just sold my book!" "Hey, that's great," I try to make my voice sound warm and heartfelt, even though my nonchalant smile gives away what's inside me. "You're not upset because you're jealous, are you?"

"Nonsense," I said.I've already passed that stage. "It just makes you sick for a moment. Lily, bring me a bucket for my friend. Guess how much it's upfront?" "Don't know where to guess—" I said with a sad shrug. "7000 yuan!" Leo jumped up and down happily, while I seriously thought maybe that bucket should belong to Lily. "That's amazing, I can't think of anyone more deserving of this money." I gritted the lie, I could have said the other person's name right away, but decided to give it a compliment He as well. "Which one?" I asked curiously. "Which one?" He smiled and turned to the others, who were laughing without hesitation. "This one. This one I wrote last year. You know, The Fat Man's Fiasco." "Fat Fiasco," I repeated in a drawl that sounded ridiculously solemn. "7000," Leo said, intoxicated by money, "and it's just an advance. The first drop of urine in the urinal, so to speak." The publisher expected, he continued, this film about a 300-year-old Pounds, the story of the still-heavy man who was reduced to 225 pounds by painful dieting, and his one-of-a-kind novel, will take the country by storm—or at least it will. He even talked about the possibility of bringing the novel to the screen in its entirety. "The booksellers call it a classic," said Leo, flattered.He was moved by his words. "A mix of Malamud and Dostoyevsky. McIntyre, my editor--editor-in-chief!--calls me every day to ask how I feel. Even the president of the publishing company is eager Want to see me. Wonder if it’s true that I didn’t learn to tie my shoes until I was 14. I’m about to be in Newsweek and Time and have a TV interview.” He giggled and stared at me smugly, Continuing to paint the rosy picture, it's garnished with lucrative stand-up appearances, illicit payments, rewards for work, magazine book reviews and guest lectures.All thanks to The Fat Bankrupt, Leo's minor classic, the novel that combines Tolstoy and Miggie Spireni.The girls were busy looking for a prettier house, a nice sandstone house in Brooklyn Heights; and they were planning—all of them—to go to Mexico or the Caribbean for a couple of months, and Leo could still There to gather material for the next major classic.He even wanted to buy a car, nothing fancy, just a Chrysler New Yorker, just big enough to fit all the women in it. "Tell me, Nudelman, what have you done?" he asked at last.Hearing the scenes described so vividly by this hailed literary giant, even the most unselfish creature can be turned into a monster of jealousy. "Me? Nothing, so far," I said in a deliberate circle. "Although I have a lot of things in my hands, I won't talk about it until I succeed. But... oh..." I winked and said, "Be sure to give me the address of your hotel in the Caribbean. No one knows for sure. Maybe Vivica and I will take the children there suddenly on a whim." "OK!" "You may be able to visit us before you leave. Come, all of you," I said to the people who were listening to us.Everyone is nodding and smiling. "My house has many miles." "Listen," Leo said, laughing loudly. "Maybe I can help you... before your business is done...?" he said, reaching for his wallet. "Help me? Oh no, thank you!" Seeing him open his leather wallet to reveal a stack of green notes, I blushed. "Hell, isn't it just a few bucks, go—" "No, I didn't even think about it," I blurted out, and the others politely looked away. "Everyone could use a little—" "No, Leo, I tell you I'm fine. I've got a lot of money." "Hold it!" He tried to slip me a few 5 yuan bills. "I do not need." "Not for you. For the kids. I wanted to buy toys the last time I went." "They had a lot of toys. Throwing them all over the place. Those two little ones were spoiled. To tell you the truth." "Are you telling the truth?" Leo repeatedly tried to confirm my words.I watched helplessly as he put the green bill back into his wallet. "Absolutely," I said emphatically, "but thank you for your kindness. Two months ago it would have been . . . but now, well, it's—" "That's good," Leo said, tucking the wallet back into the back pocket of his tuxedo pants. "The world is so strange," he laughed, "these days the money can't even be given out."