Plain of Jars: and Other Stories

An Attitude of Dignity

$ 109 $ An Attitude of Dignity T he trio on the bandstand was playing a zippy cha-cha number when Carole entered the front door of the cocktail lounge. Scott sat at the bar, watching her reflection in the tinseled bar mirror, which was dotted with cute little Santa Claus cutouts, sprigs of spruce, and imitation snow. He watched her pause at the door as it closed behind her, saw her blink her eyes several times as if to adjust her sight to the darkness and cigarette smoke. She looked around the din of swinging bodies moving rhythmically with the music—he knew she was looking for him. He kept his back to her, watching her in the mirror as he drank from a tall glass, a middle-aged man in a green, dandyish corduroy suit. He didn’t help her any as she scanned the crowd; in fact, he seemed to enjoy the small feeling of power, and for a moment he could imagine how a sniper must feel when zeroing in his rifle sights on an unsuspecting enemy. Finally she saw him, and smiling, she began to walk toward him. He watched her pass through the dancing couples and felt again the familiar desire at the sight of her trim figure clad in a black, tight-fitting, low-cut dress. He crushed out his cigarette with too much force in the ashtray near his elbow. “I thought I asked you not to come here today,” he said. The smile faded from her face. She shrugged her shoulders slightly and looked down at the bar as she sat beside him. “Yes, I know you did, Scott, but a phone call isn’t enough.” “Why not? What more is there?” 110 $ geary hobson She shrugged again and smiled weakly. “I don’t know. Maybe lots more. Who knows?” “Hummph! Not if I have anything more to say about it, there isn’t.” “Please, Scott, don’t be this way. I had to come to tell you how sorry I—” “Well, don’t. Just forget about it.” “But I—” “Forget it!” His voice was harsh, and he looked around quickly to see if he had been overheard by anyone. No one seemed to have noticed it. For a few minutes they sat quietly as the music and voices thundered around them. As she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, he noticed it in the bar mirror, behind the stack of bottles and glasses. When their gazes met, he looked quickly away. “As long as you’re here, would you like something to drink?” he said. “Yes. Yes, I would. Thank you.” “A rum and coke?” “Yes, that’ll be nice.” He motioned to the bartender. While the drinks were being served, he played with a fifty-cent piece on the bar counter, spinning the coin like a top with a flick of his finger. She watched him and smiled as he spun the coin a few times. “You know, every time I see someone do that, I think of you.” “Thanks. That’s awfully nice of you to say so,” he said, pocketing the coin. “Please, Scott . . .” He shifted his position on the bar stool, turning slightly away from her. He drank half his drink with a quick swallow. They were silent again. Nervously, she played with the ice cubes in her glass with her finger. He looked at her. “You play games, too.” “Yes, I play games, too.” She smiled, looking sideways at him as if to flirt. “You’re goddamned right you play games. And you’re pretty good at them, too.” “Please, Scott. Why do you have to be this way? You act as though you’ve been crucified—” “Crucified! Well, if you don’t like it, why don’t you just get the fuck outa here.” “Why do you have to be so mean?” He laughed bitterly. “Maybe it’s my nature. Maybe I’m just naturally mean as hell.” “No, that’s not true,” she said quietly, looking down at her drink. “You were sweet to me—then.” “How utterly charming of you to say that, my dear,” he said sarcastically. an attitude of dignity $ 111 “Please don’t act this way. You should know that it’s as bad for me as it is for you.” “Yeah, I’ll bet like hell it is.” They were quiet again. Then she said, “The pills should clear it up in a couple of days...