744: It was a . . .
What a Piece of Work I Am, Chapter 48 continues
IT WAS A SLOW NIGHT at Corinne’s, so when Denny came in, Ariane was pleased to see him. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, and she hadn’t had anyone to talk to all evening.
“Hey, stranger,” she said. “Where have you been?”
He made a pretense of being frightened, of cowering. It was clearly an act, but Ariane was puzzled.
“What’s that all about?” she asked.
“The last time I saw you, you started throwing rocks at me,” he said.
“Rocks?”
“Well, pebbles.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were walking along the river one night, must be almost a year ago, and I pulled up and asked you if you wanted a lift, and you sort of went crazy. Started trying to tear the mirror off the car, and—”
“Oh, my God, was that you?”
“It was.”
“I guess I was a little out of my mind. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime. It didn’t have anything to do with you. It was—well, another time. Anyway—where have you been?”
“Round and about,” he said.
“ ‘Round and about,’ ” she said, imitating him. “And what have you been up to, round and about?”
“Well, I’ve got my own place,” he said.
“Really?” said Ariane.
“No, not really, to tell the truth,” said Denny. He laughed at himself, and Ariane was reminded that she had liked that about him, his willingness to laugh at himself. “Truth is, I’m living in a warehouse, down near the docks.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Not kidding. My father owns it, but he’s not doing anything with it. It’s empty. He had a tenant, but the guy’s business failed, so I asked him if I could use it, he said yes, so I’m living in it.”
“Wait a minute,” she said. “There’s something more to this. You’re leaving something out.”
“Yes. You’re right. I am.” Now he was grinning, as they say, from ear to ear.
“Come on, let’s sit in the back. I want to hear it all. You want a beer?”
“Sure. Piels.”
“Nah. Have an LL. You’ll like it.”
“Whatever you say.”
When they were sitting at the table in the back where Grandfather used to sit, Denny lowered his voice and told her his story.
“So, the truth is that I’m the night watchman, because my father was afraid that somebody would break in there.”
“An empty warehouse?”
“It’s not quite empty. It’s full of seats.”
“Seats.”
“The seats from Ebbets Field.”
“Where the Dodgers used to play?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Well—maybe. My father took them for the back rent he was owed. The guy says they’re from Ebbets Field.”
“How did he get them?”
“He didn’t want to talk about it. I think he stole them.”
“He didn’t offer the Brooklyn Bridge as part of the deal, did he?”
“Come on. You want to see them?”
“Is this just a way of luring me to an empty warehouse where you can have your way with me?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I’ll just bet you hadn’t. Come on, let’s go.” As she got up, she called out to Red and the boys at the bar, “Gentlemen, I’m going down to the docks with Denny here.” Some snickers and chuckles. “If I’m not back by tomorrow evening—send somebody with a bottle of rum and some sandwiches, will you?”
She held the door for Denny, and when she followed him out she wiggled her famous bottom for the boys at the bar.
[to be continued]
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