A Fairy Tale of New York Read Free Page B

Birds taking white baths. Ploughs pushing it up, conveyor belts pouring it into trucks. I've no black tie. But a green one will suit Mr Vine. People we pass look at this expensive car.
    ''You comfortable. Mr Christian.''
    "Yes thanks."
    "They're shovelling salt. Then when the snow melts the guy's tires in front shoot it up on your windshield. Some problem. They know it's going to snow every year, you'd think they'd do something."
    "Yes."
    A morning sun shining in slits along the crosstown streets and in shadows across the park. These tall hotels. All so slender women walk in. Where the lights glow. And everybody's scared of everybody. And maybe Vine and his personal touch.
    Green neon sign. Vine Funeral Parlor. Everybody calls it a home. Sanitation department truck stopped outside. Bedraggled men filling it with snow. Mr Vine waves his arm. Seems red in the face.
    "Good morning, Mr Christian. Had to tell these men to get this garbage truck out of here. Come this way, Mr Christian."
    Vine pushing open the door. A firm handshake, nodding his head and twitching. Shaking water out of his ears after swimming. Now he beckons the way.
    "It's my favourite music I've chosen, Mr Christian. She's very beautiful. She's waiting for you. Our Miss Musk will take care of you. And just press the button when you want me. All right."
    "Yes."
    This young woman steps forth from the shadows. Can't look at her face. Just see her slender ankle and leg. And hear her friendly voice.
    "I'm Elaine Musk, Mr Vine's assistant. May I take your coat."
    "I think I'll keep it on. For a moment.''
    "The music hasn't begun yet. And if there's anything, just anything, I 'm here to help.''
    "Thank you."
    The room dark. Curtains drawn across the window to the street. And the green light flickering behind the glass. Casket gleaming and black. On a pedestal, the wreath illumined in green. My Helen written with the tiny white heads of lilies of the valley. A table with a Bible. Chairs along the wall for mourners. Even has my flowers lit up. He must rake in the money. I'm glad the casket's black. I'd die if it were green. Now go and kneel. So soft and I can't look at you. See just the tips of your knuckles. You don't have to shake Vine's hand, he almost broke mine. If you'd move. Encased in glass and you can't get up. Forgive me because I haven't got the courage to look at you. Because I'd see you dead forever. What happens to all the flesh and blood. No child. You leave nothing except the pain of missing you. And I didn't want the expense because a baby cost money. I wouldn't part with a penny. Only reason I had. I knew you were begging me and I'd always say let's wait. And we waited. Your casket's so smooth. Funny I put my hand along the bottom to see if it's stuck with chewing gum. Vine would never allow that. And although he must be half crazy he's given me comfort because I don't feel you're laughed at or joked over dead. Got to keep my head down or I'll look by accident. Thought I would cry and I can't. Helen, I wish we were different from everybody else. Scream for some sort of thing that makes us you and me. Neither of us nothing. And on the ship you said you wanted to lie down in the cabin. Those first Americans you met just tired you out. And I was so proud of bringing you back to my country. I wanted you to like them. And even after you'd gone, I didn't want anyone to come and touch me on the arm and back with a pat or two and say I'm sorry about it, about your wife, have courage or something, but I did want them I wanted someone to show something. Anything. But not a soul on that damn ship came near me except for money. And each second you get further away from me. Dig the hole with the straight sides and before it gets dark they've got you covered up. And all the times I wished you were dead. So I could be free. They were black thoughts of anger. But I thought them. Must get up. Look out the window.
    Silently crossing the room. Parting the thick curtains to