Ironweed

Fi

“Hey, we got company, Moose,” Francis said.

“Is that Fi

“That’s the man,” Francis said. Fi

“You son of a bitch,” Moose said, leaning on one elbow.

“Which son of a bitch you talkin’ to?” Francis asked.

“Fi

“Is that true, Fi

“Arrrggghhh,” said Fi

“He was one mean bastard,” Moose said. “He hit me once.”

“Hurt you?”

“Hurt like hell. I had a headache three weeks.”

“Somebody burned up Fi

“Why are the cops burnin’ up cars?” Rudy asked.

“Cops’re goin’ crazy,” Little Red said. “They’re pickin’ up everybody. American Legion’s behind it, that’s what I heard.”

“Them lard-ass bastards,” Francis said. “They been after my ass all my life.”

“Legio

“You think you’re safe here?” Francis asked.

“Safer than on the street.”

“Cops’d never come up here if they wanted to get you, right?” Francis said.

“They wouldn’t know I was here,” Little Red said.

“Whataya think this is, the Waldorf-Astoria? You think that old bitch downstairs don’t tell the cops who’s here and who ain’t when they want to know?”

“Maybe it wasn’t the cops burned up the car,” Moose said. “Fi

“You hear that, Fi

“Nggggghhhh,” said Fi

“Fi

“You givin’ orders here at the Waldorf-Astoria, is that it?” Francis asked.

“Who the hell are you?” Little Red asked.

“I’m a fella ready to stomp all over your head and squish it like a grape, you try to tell me what to do.”

“Yeah,” said Little Red, and he moved toward the cot beside Fi

“I knew it was you soon as I come in,” Old Shoes said, coming over to the foot of Francis’s cot. “I could tell that foghorn voice of yours anyplace.”

“Old Shoes,” Francis said. “Old Shoes Gilligan.”

“That’s right. You got a pretty good memory. The wine ain’t got you yet.”

“Old Shoes Gilligan, a grand old soul, got a cast-iron belly and a brass asshole.”

“Not cast-iron anymore,” Old Shoes said. “I got an ulcer. I quit drinkin’ two years ago.”

“Then what the hell you doin’ here?”

“Just came by to see the boys, see what was happenin’.”

“You hangin’ out with Fi

“Who you callin’ a wiseass?” Little Red said.

“I’m callin’ you wiseass, wiseass,” Francis said.

“You got a big mouth,” Little Red said.

“I got a foot’s even bigger and I’m go

“Cool off, Francis,” Old Shoes said. “What’s your story? You’re lookin’ pretty good.”

“I’m gettin’ rich,” Francis said. “Got me a gang of new clothes, couple of jugs, money in the pocket.”

“You’re gettin’ up in the world,” Old Shoes said.

“Yeah, but what the hell you doin’ here if you ain’t drinkin’ is what I don’t figure.”

“I just told you. I’m passin’ through and got curious about the old joints.”

“You workin’?”

“Got a steady job down in Jersey. Even got an apartment and a car. A car, Francis. You believe that? Me with a car? Not a new car, but a good car. A Hudson two-door. You want a ride?”

“A ride? Me?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Now?”

“Don’t matter to me. I’m just sightseein’. I’m not sleepin’ up here. Wouldn’t sleep here anyway. Bedbugs’d follow me all the way back to Jersey.”

“This bum here,” Francis explained to Rudy, “I saved from dyin’ in the street. Used to fall down drunk three, four times a night, like he was top-heavy.”

“That’s right,” Old Shoes said. “Broke my face five or six times, just like his.” And he gestured at Moose. “But I don’t do that no more. I hit three nuthouses and then I quit. I been off the bum three years and dry for two. You wa

“You got a wife too?” Francis said.

“You got a car and a wife and a house and a job?” Rudy asked. He sat up on his cot and studied this interloper.

“That’s Rudy,” Francis said. “Rudy Tooty. He’s thinkin’ about killin’ himself.”

“I know the feelin’,” Old Shoes said. “Me and Francis we needed a drink somethin’ awful one mornin’. We walked all over town but we couldn’t score, snow comin’ through our shoes, and it’s four below zero. Finally we sold our blood and drank the money. I passed out and woke up still needin’ a drink awful bad, and not a pe

“Where there ain’t no snow,” Rudy sang. “Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night.”

“You wa

“Oh the buzzin’ of the bees in the cigarette trees, by the soda water fountains,” Rudy sang. Then he smiled at Old Shoes, took a swallow of wine, and fell back on his cot.

“Man wants to go for a ride and can’t get no takers,” Francis said. “Might as well call it a day, Shoes, stretch out and rest them bones.”

“Naaah, I guess I’ll be movin’ on.”

“One evenin’ as the sun went down, and the jungle fires were burnin’,” Rudy sang, “Down the track came a hobo hikin’, and said, Boys, I am not turnin’.”

“Shut up that singin’,” Little Red said. “I’m tryna sleep.”

“I’m go

“No fights,” Moose said. “She’ll kick us the hell out or call the cops on us.”

“That’ll be the day I get kicked out of a joint like this,” Francis said. “This is pigswill. I lived in better pigswill than this goddamn pigswill.”

“Where I come from-” Old Shoes began.

“I don’t give a goddamn where you come from.” Francis said.

“Goddamn you, I come from Texas.”

“Name a city, then.”

“Galveston.”

“Behave yourself,” Francis said, “or I’ll knock you down. I’m a tough son of a bitch. Tougher than that bum Fi

“You’re drunk,” Old Shoes said.

“Yeah,” said Francis. “My mind’s goin’.”

“It went there. Rattlesnake got you.”

“Rattlesnake, my ass. Rattlesnake is nothin’.”

“Cottonmouth?”

“Oh, cottonmouth rattler. Yeah. That’s somethin’. Jesus, this is a nice subject. Who wants to talk about snakes? Talk about bums is more like it. A bum is a bum. Helen’s got me on the bum. Son of a bitch, she won’t go home, won’t straighten up.”

“Helen did the hula down in Hon-oh-loo-loo,” Rudy sang.

“Shut your stupid mouth,” Francis said to Rudy.

“People don’t like me,” Rudy said.

“Singin’ there, wavin’ your arms, talkin’ about Helen.”

“I can’t escape myself.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Francis said.

“I tried it before.”

“I know, but you can’t do it, so you might as well live with it.”

“I like to be condemned,” Rudy said.

“No, don’t be condemned,” Francis told him.

“I like to be condemned.”

“Never be condemned.”

“I like to be condemned because I know I done wrong in my life.”