Chapter 8

The telephone was ringing as Perry unlocked the door to his mother's apartment. At first he could not remember where the phones were, and it took another ring before he thought of the one in the kitchen.

"Hello," he said a bit breathless.

"Hello, Perry." The prim, correct female voice struck a chord somewhere deep within him.

"Is this Cora?"

"Yes, it is." There was a hesitation. "How are you, Perry?"

"I'm fine. Fine. How did you know I was home?"

"Your mother told me. Are you ... all right? I mean you weren't wounded or anything?"

"No, Cora. I'm all in one piece. And you."

"Still the same."

Yes, she probably was still the same. That was too bad.

"I just got home two days ago," Perry said, trying to keep up some kind of conversation.

"I know. Your mother called me earlier today. She said I should surprise you."

"Oh." If Virginia' couldn't get Perry to do something, she would apply the pressure from outside. Anything to have her way. "Well, what's new, Cora?"

"Nothing, really. I have the same job. I got a raise a couple of months ago, and they might make me an assistant to the manager of my department. But, that's not important. You're the one who has so much to tell us. You know, we see so much of the war on television, but it doesn't seem real. I don't understand what it's all about."

"I'm not sure anyone else does, either. Certainly not the guys at the front lines. It's just a war."

"You won't have to go back, will you?" she asked in her frightened, little girl voice.

"I don't know about 'have to,' Cora. If they try to make me go back, I won't!"

Suddenly, it was out in the open. He had said it, though he really hadn't intended to. The ghost he had been hiding all these months had popped up unexpectedly, and brought a wash of fear along with it.

"Oh, I certainly hope they don't want to send you back, Perry. That wouldn't be fair at all. There are so many other fellows who haven't had to go."

That wasn't how the war was run, but how could he even try to explain it to Cora? She still lived in a child's world of strict rules, proper do's and don'ts. Fairness had little to do with the war, or anthing else in life. But, at least she had not caught the threat his words could have given away.

"I'm not thinking about that while I'm home," he said. "I've got a month with nothing to do but relax and enjoy myself."

"That's good. A whole month. I only get two weeks of vacation. They start tomorrow, on Friday."

It was a ray of hope for him. "Where are you going?"

"Going?" she echoed. "You mean away? Nowhere. I'll be here at home. There's no place I want to go particularly."

Poor Cora. There was no place she wanted to go at all. Perry's father would have loved her attitude. Go to work, do your job, and come home to Harlem. Home to the security of black family, black friends, and the black monotony of the ghetto.

Worse yet, it meant she would be totally free and available for the next two weeks. His mother must have known. He would not even put it past her to have suggested to Cora that she plan her vacation at this time. It was too pat to be accidental, and Cora would not know how to plan this kind of strategy.

"Then, I guess we'll be able to see each other soon," Perry said.

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Perry!" She was genuinely enthusiastic, he could tell.

He knew she would never say anything about him not answering her letter, but he wondered what she thought about it. Maybe she had created some complicated excuse for him. It was one thing she did so well. As long as he had know her, she had never been angry at anyone. No matter how badly anyone might have treated her, she would find some reason to explain away their behavior. 'Christian pity,' she called it when he had argued with her. That was not the way he saw it.

"What are you doing this evening, Cora?"

"I haven't a thing planned. Would you like to come over? My mother and dad want to see you, too. But I can't stay out too late, you know. I have to work tomorrow."

"Fine," he said. "I'm not used to late hours like I used to be. What time should I come over?"

"Are you going to eat at home?"

He glanced at his watch. It was almost six o'clock. He hadn't thought about food.

"I may fix myself something light."

"Oh, don't do that," she said. "Come eat with us. Come over as soon as you can."

He would have to take a shower. A long one to make himself feel clean.

"All right, Cora, as soon as I can. He had stripped himself down, and was just about to turn the shower on when the phone rang again. He walked back into the kitchen. This time it was Al. "What happened to you, P.T.? You were supposed to be back here an hour ago. We're having dinner together, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Al, I should have called you. I have to cancel out."

"Well, don't sweat it. As you said last night, you've got a whole month. How about tomorrow? The East Village really starts to swing big on Fridays."

"I think the weekend is pretty much out for me," Perry told him, trying not to let his feelings get into his voice. "Family and old-time friends, you know. I'll be making the rounds."

"You can always come on down when the old folks start going to sleep. We don't exactly keep banking hours here."

Al was always a tough customer to say no to.

"Well, maybe next week will be better, Al."

"Look, Perry," Al's tone changed, a bit stronger and deeper, "we were friends and we still are friends. Something was bugging you last night, and something is bothering you right now. I don't know what it is, but if I remember you rightly, you are not one to share your problems easily. I can't force you to tell me, but I can offer to listen, and offer whatever advice, support, sympathy, or screwed-up philosophy I can give."

"I know that, Al." Standing naked in the kitchen, Perry felt oddly unprotected.

"But, do you? Look, you've been through a lot of nonsense in the past few years. You may have forgotten what I'm really like. Depend on me, Perry."

"I appreciate that, and I haven't forgotten how good a friend you were. It's just that I've been away for so long I'm not adjusted to civilization yet. I have a lot of thinking out to do."

"Shit," Al exploded, "the worst thing you could do is get adjusted to civilization. Make it get adjusted to you. That's how I want to help you. That's what the shitty newspaper is for. I'll bet you didn't even get any copies of it."

"No, I didn't. I'll get them when I see you."

"All right. When will that be?"

"I can't really say right now." Why did he feel trapped? "Honest, I can't. As soon as I can, I'll call you and come down."

"Just come down, P.T. You never have to call me first. I'm either at the office or the pad. Or Vicky will know where to get me fast."

. "Fine. Thanks, Al. I'll be taking you up on your offer."

".I'm going to hold you to it," Al said, and it was almost a threat. "If I don't see you before the weekend's out, I'll be on your tail."

"I'll make it as soon as I can," Perry said. "I have to get into the shower now. I'm invited to a friend's house for dinner." He seized on the fact. "That's why I couldn't make it tonight. I had forgotten all about the fact we had an appointment."

"You know something-"

"What's that?"

"You've made a terrific impression on Vicky. She thinks you are just great. She's quite a girl, Perry. Don't take her lightly. She can.be a wonderful friend to have!"

When he put down the phone, Perry was thoroughly confused. What in hell had Vicky told Al? Not the truth, of course, but why this complete turnabout bullshit? If she wasn't completely psycho, she was one of the weirdest sane people he had ever run into.

But he didn't want to start thinking about her now. If he got one more hard-on today, the damn thing would break off.