Chapter Twenty
When poverty comes in the door, love flies out the window.
(German proverb)
Arnie would have been delighted to learn that the only room available this evening in the Dime After Dime was the Penthouse Suite were it not for the fact that the bed he has nobly chosen as his own is a lumpy, threadbare sofa in the outer chamber, with stains he really doesn’t want to think about.
(He recalls an erotica colleague of his once observing that whenever you discover stains such as these, they always resemble a map of Ireland, which Arnie somehow felt showed a Celtic heritage, a love of geography or a life best unexamined.)
Noreen’s accommodation is hardly a giant leap upwards, but the woman appears utterly thrilled.
Arnie can only assume that this is because she really needed to get out of Dodge for a while, as even with his monstrous ego he can’t quite believe that the main draw could be sharing a crummy suite with her American cousin, however long or lost.
Well, at least this time the TV isn’t on.
And this is still the city of dreams and hope, so he reckons he had better make the most of it. With a flourish, he trots over to the window and pulls back the moth-eaten drapes.
“Here you go, Noreen – Vegas!”
She stares at the brick wall for a few moments. It appears to reach up almost to the sky, without even a window or a lurid sign to break the monotony. He feels his heart sink like the cranky elevator they just got off.
“Do you know, Arnie?” says Noreen as she examines the offending structure, without even a hint of disappointment.
“I never really considered the workmanship that goes into constructing a wall like this. See how firm and even every single one of those bricks is. So many men must have worked so hard together, as a team, making sure that whoever was eventually going to live inside was safe and warm and secure. I do hope nobody hurt themselves in the process. I collect for the Brickies’ Benevolent Fund back home, you know – the Hod of God, it’s called – although, of course, in Rough Fell the buildings are all so small.
Thank you for giving me something to truly think about. ”
“Are you for real?” asks Arnie, and not for the first time.
But the bouncing bobble has already moved on, and Noreen has discovered something else new and equally wonderful. A tiny freezer. She opens it and turns to her host, a face of undiluted radiance bathed in the refrigerated glow.
“Arnie – look! Isn’t that thoughtful?”
Before he can talk her through the economics of hotel hospitality – and politely warn her off – she is already examining a miniature Jack Daniels.
“They’ve even got drinks for dwarves!”
“That’s America for you. Built on kindness.” He smiles at her, with only a hint of desperation and a swift reminder not to talk her through his legendary Snow White Trash movie. “Now, they’re strictly non-alcoholic, Noreen. Nevada’s a dry state. So, you just drink as many as you like.”
“Oh, I shall,” promises Noreen, “thank you.” She catches herself in an only slightly cracked mirror and appears visibly shocked. “But look at me, Arnie. You didn’t even give me time to pack. I need to go out and get myself some clothes and things. Do they have a Help the Aged shop here?”
“A what?” Arnie sighs once again at the sheer hopelessness of life, until a thought occurs, which he half dismisses the moment he utters it, if not before. “You remember to bring your credit cards?”
“I don’t have credit cards, Arnie. As my dear mum always said, ‘Neither a borrower nor a lender be.’”
“Of course she did. Well, my credit cards are kaput, thanks to Mel— thanks to mellifluously donating to animal charities and the blessed evangelists and stuff. And I’ve only got…
” He looks in his wallet and sighs. “Eight dollars. So, if you want new clothes in this burg, Noreen sweetheart, it looks like there’s only one thing to do. ”
Noreen nods in complete understanding. From her voluminous handbag, she deftly extricates a large bundle of wool skewered with needles. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
Arnie’s eyes go skyward. Looking for me, perhaps. “Lord, give me strength.”
No, straight to board level.
Grabbing Noreen – and her hefty handbag – he drags her out of the room.