Falconer+-+John+Cheever

Falconer 168
set like mine. It’s over to my sister’s now. Christ, I hate my sister
and she hates my guts, but I’ll spend the night there and find a
beautiful place in the morning. They have some beautiful places
on the south side, places with views of the river. You wouldn’t
want to share a place with me, would you, if I found something
beautiful?”
“Maybe,” said Farragut.
“Well, here’s my card. Call me if you feel like it. I like your looks. I
can tell you got a nice sense of humor. I’m in from ten to four. I
sometimes come in a little later, but I don’t go out for lunch.
Don’t call me at my sister’s. She hates my guts. Here’s our bus.”
The brightly lighted bus had the same kind and number of people
—for all he knew, the same people—that he had seen in the
laundromat. Farragut picked up the heater and the motorcycle
helmet and the stranger went ahead of him with his suitcase and
his clothes. “Be my guest,” he said over his shoulder, paying
Farragut’s fare. He took the third seat on the left, by the window,
and said to Farragut, “Sit here, sit down here.” Farragut did. “You
meet all kinds, don’t you?” he went on. “Imagine calling me a
disorderly person just because I sing and whistle and make a little
noise going up and down the stairs at night. Imagine. Hey, it’s
raining,” he exclaimed, pointing to the white streaks on the
window. “Hey, it’s raining and you ain’t got no coat. But I got a
coat here, I got a coat here I think’ll fit you. Wait a minute.” He
pulled a coat out of the clothes. “Here, try this on.”
“You’ll need your coat,” Farragut said.
“No, no, try it on. I got three raincoats. Moving around from place
to place all the time, I don’t lose stuff, I accumulate stuff, like I
already got a raincoat at my sister’s and a raincoat in the lost and
found room at the Exeter House and this one I got on. And this
one. That makes four. Try it on.”