Woman Aroused | Page 7

what was wrong. "George, you're wonderful! Still using one kind of powder for your toes, another to dust your crotch, and a third for under the arms. My God, you don't know how I'm trying to get a hold of something, of my old life."
"Got a job in the hopper?" I asked, slipping on a silk bathrobe.
"Oh, I'll get back to selling, I suppose," Hank said.
We went back to the living room and I stepped into the kitchen, put on the electric coffee percolator, was halving grapefruit, when he called me.
He was standing in the living room next to the heavy woodwork that had once been a door leading to the upstairs apartment, before I had the wall filled in. He pressed part of one of the wooden panels, which slid back, showing an empty space. We used to call it the "hideaway" when we were kids.
Hank said happily, "Imagine, this still being here--still working."
"Bet I haven't opened that panel--or thought of it--in fifteen years," I said.
"Remember when this was the garage and the big car was here? We'd sit in the front seat and imagine we were racing like hell along some dark road, every yegg in the world after us, and then we'd jump out and put all sorts of crazy documents in the panel? Had some great times then." Hank pressed the top of the panel and it slid back into place again. "Like a movie," he added.
There was something a little slobbering and queer about him and I said rather sharply, "The corn-flakes company will still send you secret rings for box tops."
He lit a cigarette, sat on the couch. "George, why is it when we grow older instead of getting smarter, we get more stupid? Why do we lose the simplicity and happiness we once held in childhood?"
"What happened, Hank, the army make you a philosopher?"
"Don't laugh it off, as we grow older we become full of sour bitterness. Too bad humans don't age for the better, like wine. The wine of humanity is pretty thin and watery." He blew out a fairly decent smoke ring, watched it dissolve in the air, asked, "Own the oil company yet?"
"Nope. Still editing the 'Sun, published every month by the Sky Oil Company, Inc.,' and it's still as corny as it sounds."
"And you still wear conservative suits by Brooks Brothers, custom-made shirts with stiff tab collars, Bronzini ties, make a ritual of powdering your crotch, of blending your tobacco. You take in the dance recitals, and quietly read your Times in the evening over the pre-dinner cocktail, which can only be ordered at certain bars. George, you're so wrapped up in yourself, you give so much attention to George, I envy you."
"And I still have my little bouts with Flo--might as well make a complete inventory. Want breakfast?"
Hank shook his head.
"Then take some coffee with me."
"I'm full of coffee. George, do me a favor."
"Certainly," I said, wondering how much of a bite he was going to put on me. I didn't have any money in the bank but I could always borrow a couple of hundred.
He pulled a thick white envelope out of his pocket. "Hold this for me."
I took the envelope. It was open and full of twenty dollar bills. "What's this, black-market loot?"
"No, saved it from my salary. There's $7,000 there. Keep it in your bank for me."
"Why don't you open an account tomorrow? I mean I don't like to hold money--you know how the green slips through my hands. What's the gimmick?"
"I'm married to the world's greatest bitch," Hank said softly. "That's why I came home--I'm going to get a divorce, soon. I don't want Lee--that's the 'little woman'--to know about this. She's... well, I know why she is what she is, but she's... well, greedy wouldn't start to describe her. She's money-crazy. In fact, she's downright crazy. You see she... oh, it's quite a mess. No sense involving you in it."
"This is news. How long have you been married?"
"Let's not talk about it. Put it down as one of these war marriages you've probably read too much about. It's a mess I got into with both feet. I'll get straightened out, but I'll be damned if she'll get the money."
I put the envelope on the table, carefully. "Hank, why don't you put it in a safe deposit vault or..."
"Can't, she'd get it. You don't know what a nose she has for money. You keep it, please."
"But Hank I have a hard time making my salary last the week. You know me and money, why I..."
"Damn it, George, do me this favor!" he said loudly, getting up, walking around the room. "I'm in a mess that's my own making. I'm in a rough jam, and all I'm asking is that you hold this."
I didn't want