Absence of the Hero Read Online Free PDF Page B

island with me? I could show you something you’d never forget.”
    â€œLou,” I said, “stay in line, please.”
    â€œThat’s right, Hank, keep the bastard off me! I’m just here for a friendly drink.”
    â€œBut I’m tryin’ to be friendly, real friendly,” protested the ex-con.
    â€œTake it easy, Lou.”
    â€œSure, Hank, sure.”
    â€œHank,” Baldy woke up, “who do you think was the greatest writer of all time?”
    â€œShakespeare,” the ex-con said.
    â€œI think Robert Louis Stevenson or Mark Twain,” said the scrubwoman.
    â€œWhat do you think, Hank?”
    â€œWell, I don’t know, Baldy.”
    â€œShakespeare, beyond a doubt,” the ex-con maintained, draining his glass. “Nobody could touch old Shakey, but nobody !”
    â€œSome claim Shakespeare died in a barroom brawl,” I disclosed.
    â€œ Sure ! Shakey was a man !”
    â€œDearie,” the scrubwoman asked me, “could I have a bit more port?”
    â€œLet’s sing something!” Baldy suggested. “The Gypsy Song. You know: sing gypsy, laugh gypsy, love while you may . I like that one.”
    â€œNo,” I said. “I’ve had multitudinous warnings about the gypsy song already.”
    â€œKeep your hands off me, you bastard !”
    â€œLou!” I shouted. “Anymore of that and I’m kicking you out!”
    â€œYou’re not man enough!”
    â€œI’m warning you, Lou.”
    â€œI used to be a hard-rock miner. Once I fought a guy with pick-handles. He broke my left arm with the first blow and I still went on to kill the son of a bitch with one hand! Go on: you hit me first! You get first knock! Go on, Hank buddy! I like you, Hank! You’re a man, a real man! Let’s fight! Let’s you and me fight , Hank!”
    â€œCalm down, Lou. I don’t want to get kicked out of here.”
    â€œMaybe you’d better read some poetry,” the scrubwoman suggested.
    â€œThis Lawrence, what’d he write about?” Baldy asked.
    â€œWell, he probed around a lot. Like a lot of us he wanted to keep the Inner Man as unpolluted as possible. He was preoccupied, much of the time, with sex.”
    â€œWho the hell isn’t ?” the ex-con stood up. “We’re all that way, ain’t we, baby?” He stood there swaying, looking down at the scrubwoman. “ Ain’t we, baby? Huh? Ain’t we?”
    â€œLook, Lou, these boys are talking about literature . Can’t you be decent?” the scrubwoman asked.
    â€œThis Lawrence guy’s got nothing on me ! I know why he wanted to go to this island with all those people and I know why those people wouldn’t go! Because they were crazy-afraid of this Lawrence , that’s why! They could see it in his eyes , it showed all over him! . . . Wanted to take a bunch of broads and colonize ! COLONIZE ! Just because this guy shot down 80 airplanes, it doesn’t put him in the clear!”
    â€œNo, no, Lou,” I said, “that wasn’t Lawrence. That was Baron Manfred Von Richthofen.”
    â€œWell, he was probably worse than Lawrence! Each time he shot down a plane he probably got his—”
    â€œYou mean,” I interrupted Lou, “each victory represented a Sexual Symbol?”
    â€œ You know what I mean!” he snarled.
    â€œWell, it’s been a nice evening folks,” I said, “and I bid you all a fond farewell.”
    â€œYa mean we gotta go ?” the ex-con asked.
    â€œThat’s about the content of it,” I replied.
    â€œWell, to hell with that fish ! I’m goin’ down to the bar and finish it off right! Comin’, doll baby?” he leered at the scrubwoman.
    â€œNo, thank you, Louis.”
    â€œO.K., you old bag !”
    The door slammed.
    â€œMaybe it was Homer,” I said.
    â€œHomer what?” from Baldy.
    â€œHomer who was the