Now & On Earth by Thompson Jim

Author:Thompson, Jim [Thompson, Jim]
Format: epub
Published: 2009-12-19T00:00:00+00:00

16

Shannon and Mack were sitting on the front steps. Moon, who was preceding me, stopped in front of them.

"Seen any policemen around?"

They grinned and shook their heads.

"Well, there's some in the neighborhood," he declared solemnly, and he fumbled in his pocket and produced two dimes. "You take these and stay out here and sort of keep on the lookout for 'em. If you see any, run in and tell me. I'll come out and beat 'em up."

"Get ice cweam?" said Mack.

"Good ice cream at my store," said Shannon, looking at Moon hopefully.

"Sure," said Moon. "But look out for the policemen."

I said, "Hadn't you better wait until after dinner?"

But of course no one paid any attention to me.

Shannon dashed off, Mack churning along behind her, his usual three paces to the rear. Moon went on into the kitchen and put the packages down.

"Hi, Mom," he said.

"Why it's Mr. Moon," said Mom, pleased. "You would catch me looking like this!"

"Got enough skillets to cook four pounds of pork chops?"

"You didn't get four pounds!" said Mom. "Jimmie, what did you let Mr. Moon get so much for?"

"Now, never you mind," said Moon, opening another sack. "Just get 'em cooked or you don't get any of this sherry."

It was ten years old. I was kind of ashamed of, but more sorry for, Mom-the way her eyes glittered when she tasted it. She's had so few good things, and she enjoys them so much. Only-well, maybe I'm a snob. But what right had he to come into my house and call my mother anything but Mrs. Dillon, and take it for granted that she'd be as glad to get the wine as-as she was?

I guess I've answered my own question. I am too thinskinned; everyone says so.

He fixed rye highballs for himself and me, getting down the glasses and making himself perfectly at home. We went back into the living room, and he opened the hall door and shouted for Roberta. Well, perhaps shout is the wrong word. He never raises his voice very much.

Roberta opened the bedroom door. "Is that you, Mooney? I'm not dressed yet."

"Goody," said Moon. "Come right on out."

Roberta laughed, and above the sizzle of chops and the clinking of glass I heard Mom laugh. I laughed too-Moon was looking at me. And he hadn't said anything out of the way. Moon is all right.

Roberta came in and shoved him playfully.

"Hi, Mooney."

"Hi, Sunny."

She laughed; different from the way she usually laughs. "What're you drinking?... Oh phoot! Why didn't you get gin? You know how I like Tom Collinses."

"I didn't know it."

"You did, too. You knew-" She paused, seeing Moon wink at me. "You did get some, didn't you?"

"Did we, Dilly? I can't remember."

"Why you mean thing!" said Roberta, and she pushed him again.

I went out into the kitchen and fixed her a Tom Collins. No; please get that straight. I am not, never have been, jealous of Roberta. Sometimes, when I have been looking for a reason to escape, I have wished that I had cause to be jealous.

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