Trenton Makes by Tadzio Koelb

Author:Tadzio Koelb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2018-03-20T04:00:00+00:00

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Price had passed out, so getting him dressed and on his feet again was hell. He threatened to vomit twice on the way to the living room. When they finally reached the landing Kunstler held Price up by the lapels. “You okay there?” he asked.

“I’m tired,” Price said. “Serious, I just need lie down, if that’s enough with everyone. I don’t need fancy, understand. Just floor will do.”

“Not yet. You can sleep later, when you get home.”

“I’m sure that’s right. But, I’m the floor, you know. And is this trip really necessary?”

Kunstler looked down the stairs for a moment, and tightened his grip on the man’s jacket. He thought briefly of a slow dark lake of blood from a man’s head, of a fist against a face and a body falling to the floor, meat heavy on unhinged bone, a heap at the bottom of the stairs; then he looked through these thoughts to the face of the drunken Price.

“Hey,” Kunstler said. He gave him a light slap on the cheek. Suddenly he asked, “Buddy, hey. How old are you?”

“I’m, my take Fifth,” Price mumbled. “The grounds that incriminate me.”

“No, come on. How old? Nineteen? Twenty?”

Price nodded. “Nine ten,” he said.

“Jesus Christ,” said Kunstler.

“Don’t get sore, mister, it ain’t my fault. And don’t take it wrong, I know. Sometimes when we were dancing, see, and the thing is, I think your friends in there liked me. I sure liked them.”

“I guess they liked you fine. But now it’s time for you to go,” Kunstler told him.

Price nodded again. “Just a rest, pal, little bit.” He made as if to sit, but Kunstler held him up, and Price had no strength to struggle.

“No. You have to go. Got it?”

The young man nodded. “Into sunset.” Kunstler pointed him at the stairs, but it was clear that he would never make it down on his own, so together they trundled slowly to the lobby. Just before Kunstler let Price out the front door, the young man leaned into him and said in a voice conspiratorial and sly, “Less and another.”

“What?” said Kunstler.

“Less you me go, have a other drink.”

“No,” said Kunstler. “No more drinks. You have to get out of here.”

“I know, I know, but wait,” said Price, his face crumpled with concern. “What about that, mister? Huh? How about ’em?” he whispered.

“How about what?”

Price looked at him with something like concern, an almost tender gaze, and in a voice filled with the happiness of promise, he whispered, “Waffles. Mister, how about waffles?”

Kunstler kneed the door open and gave Price a push, watched him reel as far as the next building. Then he looked around the tiny lobby, as if he worried someone else might be there undetected. After a deep breath, he went back up the stairs to Inez.

The girl was still folded at the bed’s end, her legs forked, her face flattened into the sheets, one foot starting to travel towards the floor. Her bare thigh caught the light from the hallway.

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