The Moviegoer

some money.” He shrinks away in some kind of burlesque.
    â€œHow much do you think we can make?”
    â€œWell I don’t know. But I can tell you this.” Mr Sartalamaccia is hopping in a sort of goat dance and Sharon stands dreaming in the green darkness of the glade. “I’ll give you fifteen thousand for it right now!”
    Our name is Increase.
    Sharon and I spin along the River Road. The river is high and the booms and stacks of ships ride up and down the levee like great earth engines.
    In the Shell station and in a drift of honeysuckle sprouting through the oil cans and standing above Sharon with a Coke balanced on her golden knee, I think of flattening my hummock with bulldozers and it comes back to me how the old Gable used to work at such jobs: he knew how to seem to work and how to seem to forget about women: stand asweat with his hands in his back pockets.
    It is a great joy to be with Sharon and to make money at it and to seem to pay no attention to her. As for Sharon: she finds nothing amiss in sitting in the little bucket seat with her knees doubled up in the sunshine, dress tucked under. An amber droplet of Coca-Cola meanders along her thigh, touches a blond hair, distributes itself around the tiny fossa.
    â€œAaauugh,” I groan aloud.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?”
    â€œIt is a stitch in the side.” It is a sword in the heart.
    Sharon holds a hand against the sun to see me. “Mr Bolling?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDo you remember the price Mr Sartalamaccia first mentioned?”
    â€œEight thousand dollars.”
    â€œHe was really gon mess you up.”
    â€œNo he wasn’t. But if it hadn’t been for you, I’d have taken the eight thousand.”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œYou got me to come down here.”
    She assents doubtfully, casting back in her mind with one eye screwed up.
    â€œDo you know how much you saved me, or rather made for me? At least seven thousand dollars and probably a great deal more. I’m obliged to give you ten percent.”
    â€œYou’re not giving me any money, son.”
    I have to laugh. “Why not?”
    â€œAin’t nobody giving me any money.” (Now she catches herself and speaks broadly on purpose.) “I got plenty money.”
    â€œHow much money do you have?”
    â€œNe’mind.”
    By flexing her leg at a certain angle, she can stand the Coke on a facet of her knee. What a structure it is, tendon and bone, facet and swell, and gold all over.
    I go home as the old Gable, asweat and with no thought for her and sick to death with desire. She is pleased because, for one thing, she can keep quiet. I notice that it makes her uneasy to keep up a conversation.
    She says only one more thing, tilting her head, eyes alight. “What about the court house?”
    â€œIt’s too late. You didn’t have to come. I’m sorry.”
    â€œListen!” she cries, as far away as Eufala itself. “I had a wonderful time!”
    8
    ONCE A WEEK, on Fridays, all Cutrer salesmen return to the main office for a lunch conference with the staff. The week’s business is reviewed, sales reports made, talks given on market conditions and coming issues presented by the underwriter. But today there is not much talk of business. Carnival is in full swing. Parades and balls go on night and day. A dozen krewes have already had their hour, and Proteus, Rex and Comus are yet to come. Partners and salesmen alike are red-eyed and abstracted. There is gossip about the identity of the king and queen of Iberia tonight (most of the staff of Cutrer, Klostermann and Lejier are members either of the Krewe of Neptune or the Krewe of Iberia). It is generally conceded that the king of Iberia will be James (Shorty) Jones, president of Middle Gulf Utilities, and the queen Winky Ouillibert, the daughter of Plauche Ouillibert of Southern Mutual. The choice is a popular one—I can testify that both men are able, likable and unassuming fellows.
    Some Fridays, Uncle Jules likes to see me in his office after lunch. When he does, he so signifies by leaving his door open to the corridor so that I will see him at his desk and naturally stop by to say hello. Today he seems particularly glad to see me. Uncle Jules has a nice way of making you feel at home. Although he has a big office with an antique desk and a huge portrait of Aunt Emily, and although he is a busy man, he makes you feel as if you