222
DAVID JACKSON
"Uh huh!" he would murmur, if there was any trace of smudge
along the gummed edges.
As
he'd figured, there was a letter from his publisher in
New York-his rise in publicity had secured him a large hard–
binding-type publishing house. The check enclosed was about a
tenth of what he'd expected. (Had it been exactly what he had
expected it would have been half what he expected when it ar–
rived.) This check was so small he thought of tearing it up and
mailing back the pieces. Insult to injury were a mass of feather–
light proof pages he was asked to correct and return (with post–
age money from the check, no doubt, the bastards!). "Jesus!"
he said aloud. But as no one waiting behind him asked what the
matter was, he stepped to one side, seized an American Express
pen and change of address form, scrawled on the back, "You
got editors,
you
read these, N.M." By reaching over the counter
to the clerk's table he got an American Express envelope, ad–
dressed it to his luckless publisher, stuffed in the proof sheets,
and, as an afterthought, added, "You call that money?"
Other letters were from other Beatniks and there was one
from Walter Norman: "I've written Wilder. Look him up. Now,
that blonde muse left here to follow you. And I've been spending
hours of my valuable time dodging her six foot husband who
does not seem to believe I know nothing about it. Yes, look up
Wilder. Why should he get off free? Or is there justice in that
argument? No, I cannot send any money.
As
it
is
you left me
begging crumbs. What do you think I am, the Doge?" Nicolas
smiled to see how tough Norman could be, by mail. He com–
posed: "Dogs and doges in Venice/Sniff around together," put
it on a postcard (he always carried several, a habit he'd picked
up from Walter) to mail off to his former host. He then turned
his attention to his other letters, garnering bits of news from them
(which for
all
their claims of innocence were surprisingly
worldly): "You ought to find yourself in Athens around Sep–
tember. W . . . will be there and he's told L . . . that he thinks
our stuff has something. And he's got the gold," and: "Heard
