Chapter 27
By the time Theo made his first walk down Broadway early the next morning, the story of Sunday’s drama was already in wide circulation.
When Tony first heard about it, he recognized it as the stuff of local legend. He was more than his usual animated self when he saw Theo approaching the Verbivore.
“Good morning, Mr. Theo! I hear the management over at St. James had quite a brouhaha yesterday morning, and you were right in the middle of it. For once, I wish I’d been in the house of worship. Tell me what happened, Theo.”
Theo smiled. “Tony, my good fellow, it was a wonderful morning and I do wish you would join me there sometime.”
It was hardly the answer that Tony had wanted. Something in Theo’s expression suggested to Tony that the old man might not want to make light of anything pertaining to Ellen.
“Well, maybe I will visit sometime if you’ll promise a morning as entertaining as yesterday must have been.”
“Tony, it might actually be more shocking to all of us if you walk through the door.”
“Touché! Touché!”
Laughter followed. Then Tony’s voice and the look in his eyes turned serious. “Theo, really, tell me what happened. All I’m hearing is second and third hand.”
Theo’s tone and expression likewise lost its humor, but not its warmth, as he told Tony both stories: the Thursday afternoon bestowal at the Fedder and the Sunday morning disruption at St. James.
In doing so, his references to Ellen were never deprecating, discourteous, or demeaning.
Nor were his references to the parishioners or the clergy of St. James.
Theo told the story of Sunday, in fact, as if the occurrence were nothing out of the ordinary, as if he didn’t quite understand what all the fuss was about. He had, after all, seen lots of Ellens in New York City.
As Theo spoke, Tony listened with an occasional nod, an articulation of understanding (“uh huh”), a pursing of the lips, or a raising of the brow.
A time or two, he said “really,” more as an exclamation than a question.
He puffed on his cigarette. Given that Tony actually had been inside St. James more than once, usually for funerals, he could picture the scene of the disturbance frame by frame in his bookish, cinematic mind.
And despite his wry wit and tendency toward irreverence, the incident came to life in his imagination more as romance than comedy.
“I’m glad you were there, Theo,” Tony said when Theo was finished. “That old girl’s had a tough go. I don’t know much about her, but I’m thinking she’s had some Vietnams of her own.”
The thought hung in the air between them before Tony continued.
“She comes by here a lot. She loves to read. Did she tell you that? And some of it’s pretty deep stuff.
She used to go to the library, but something or a lot of somethings happened, and they took her card away from her.
I guess I can see the library’s side of it.
She can really cause a scene when she wants to.
I guess you saw that for yourself yesterday. ”
Theo nodded knowingly. Tony continued.
“She scares the hell out of the children, too, and she smells pretty awful in the summertime. I think she piled up some hefty fines for overdue books, and she had some run-ins with the staff, so they put her out. Somebody told me it really upset her when they took her card away. They had to call the police to make her leave.”
Another short pause as Tony took a drag of his cigarette. His voice brightened as he carried on.
“So Theo, you know what we did? We gave her a library card to the Verbivore. She’s the only member. She can check out three books at a time and keep them for a month. There have only been a couple times she didn’t bring ‘em back. But she swears they disappeared. Probably got stolen or something.
“Theo, If you haven’t figured it out yet, the Promenade tries to keep an eye on her.
She sort of belongs to all of us. You’ll get good reviews for helping her yesterday.
Not that you did it for that reason, of course.
You know I don’t buy all the ‘heaven’ stuff, but I do admit what happened at St. James sounds sort of… well… you know…”
Theo said nothing, merely smiled.
“So, Theo, tell me one more time. That usher? What did she call him? St. Smartass? That’s what I heard.
Man, I wish I’d been there. And what was the other one?
Pin-striped whore of Babylon? Damn, I wish I’d been there.
Where does she come up with that stuff? I bet the management is gonna have quite a meeting this morning. Uh, uh, uh.”
Tony took a long pull on his cigarette, careful to blow the smoke away from Theo.
And with that, the mischievous spark, never far from the surface, shone in Tony’s eyes again.
Before leaving the Verbivore that morning, Theo asked Tony if he had any books by William Saroyan in stock. He did, a thick paperback anthology, which Theo purchased for a few dollars.
Later that day at home, Theo found and read “Rescue the Perishing,” the story that Ellen had referenced in their conversation at the Fedder.
The little boy’s bicycle really did cost $27.50, and it was true that he did not want a new one. And Saroyan really did say, in another essay, that the bicycle is the noblest invention of man. His justification for that opinion? “Because I say so.”