Page:Levenson - Butterfly Man.djvu/210



LIFE, according to Jean Pond, was a dizzy headache. You never get exactly what you want and when you do, you're always too drunk to know what to do with it.

"I useta think," said Jean to the glass of alkie, as she and Ken sat in an Atlantic City boardwalk café. "I don't any more. What the hell is there to think about except when to walk Zigzag, when to feed him and how to get through a show without using up too much energy?" She sniveled faintly. "You're a good egg, Kennie," she continued. "Joe says so. So does Frankie. So do I. You hold your liquor swell, you always crack wise polite sorta; and you've been born so that you'll never be a nuisance to a gal like me.

"That's what I like about you. No pretense. Say, it took me a long time to get hep to myself. I'm still drinking because of it. You, too. You drink as much as me." She sighed. "If we was bi-sex, what a life we'd live. If I could, wouldn't I go for you? And you for me?" She repeated the words: "You for me and me for you," then hummed: "Two for tea and tea for two …" Her voice trailed off … "All I got is a yen for Diana and my sweet little cute little Zigzag."

On this evening Ken's only companion was Jean. Diana had been claimed by her husband. Johnny Keeler did not drink. He read a great deal and was, Jean said, writing a play. "Johnny's not Diana's type. It's ridiculous." Jean was frankly jealous of Johnny. She made no secret of her