Vol. 38 No. 4 1971 - page 429

PARTISAN
REVIEW
-429
directions. He was allowed to do only the simplest and cheapest
clips. After a shampoo he dried their ears and topknots with a little
electric hair dryer meant for a person.
If
they nipped at his hands
he put on gloves. The miniatures trembled, their hearts thumping
heavily in their tiny chests. In the late afternoon a CBS newscaster
came in with a brace of gray standards for a shampoo and comb–
out. The man's face was a mask of prominence, betraying nothing
beyond the measured warmth with which he announced our na–
tional disasters. Jimmy Cogan stood in awe of his haircut, his
fingernails,
his
clothes - things he did not notice on the women
who came in the shop, though
his
mother had said, having stopped
to see him at work - "Those ladies! The money on their backs." He
saw the customers of
Chateau de Chien
with soft bellies, tortoise
like, laboring under a hump of green backs, being walked by their
poodles at the curb.
This
was solace. At five Shelley called to say
that she would be in Union Square at 9: 30. After a long pause
he said,
all
right, wanting to tell her he was accepted at college as
though she were an ordinary girl friend, "What's the matter?" she
asked, "You sound funny."
You bet I sound funny, Jim Cogan thought, and I'm going
to sound funnier, because you are a weird sad girl and I don't need
it. Hanging around street comers by yourself. It had been a month
now since he'd seen any of his friends. He had not even called them
this morning when he got the news. That's how far he was into
Shelley's world -like he had dropped out of life. No more (just
one irresolute bang tonight) and then no more. At five-thirty Mrs.
Schlotzer who had no appointment showed up with Hi-Marx Lle–
welyn. She was hysterical. The dog would not walk for her. She took
him downstairs and he would not budge. She carried him to the
curb. He urinated and stood there. Up in the apartment he sat on
the couch, was lifted to
his
meal of chopped steak for three days
now. Same for Mr. Schlotzer. Same for the doorman. She knew
Hi-Marx was faking - had caught
him
romping with his rubber
porcupine in the middle of the night. What had she done to de–
serve this? Her couch was slubbed silk, getting a large oily spot
from the one place he sat. Lifting her drained face to Jim, she
pleaded, "Give him everything."
"Yes, Mrs. Schlotzer." The dog, an apricot toy, went readily
to
Jim.
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