You're a good man, Polack, Lefty...
You're a good man, Polack, Lefty says
Kabriskie's lookin' for somebody to run the girls over in the south end of his section
That's it, huh?
Yeah
He mulls it for a moment(It's more money of course, a lot more, and he can use it, but It's a touchy setup, he mutters(A little switch in the political end, a double-cross by some outfit, and he'll be the target
How old are ya, Polack?
Twenty-four, he lies
Damn young, Wally says
I want to t'ink the damn thing over, Polack saysIt is the first time he has been unable to make a decision in his life
No hurry, but no sayin' it's gonna be open next week
I'll take the chance

Only, the next day while he is still debating a letter comes from his draft boardThere's a guy over on Madison Street who pricks eardrums, and he gives him a ring
But on the way over, Polack changes his mind
Aaaah, t' hell wit' it, balenciaga knockoff the percentages are runnin' outHe turns around and drives back calmlyBeneath his mind a wonder is working
It's a big thing, he mumbles
Only, that's not itPolack has never heard of a deus ex machina, and it's a new idea to him
You figger all the angles and then somethin' new comes upThere ain't anyplace I ain't gonna get along
His wonder is smotheredEven when the new angles come, there's always a gimmick if ya go looking hard enough for itHe bangs down his horn, whips past a truck



9

A FEW HOURS later at noontime, miles away, the litter-bearers were struggling with WilsonThey had carried him all morning under the burnished metallic heat of a tropical sun, their strength and their will coursing out of their bodies with their perspirationAlready they moved stupidly, the sweat blinding their eyes, their tongues clapped against their dry and enraged fake louis vuitton bag palates, their legs quivering constantlyThe heat rose from everything, shimmered over the grass, swirled about them with the languid resistance of water or oilTheir faces felt swathed in velvet, and the air they breathed was superheated, without refreshment, a combustible mixture which seemed to explode in their chestsThey shambled along, their heads lolling, sobbing loudly with rending sounds which lacerated their throatsAfter hours of this they were men walking through flame
They carted Wilson as if they were wrestling with a stone, struggling forward with agony for fifty yards or a hundred or even two hundred, with the hasty scrambling motions of laborers moving a piano, and then they would set him down, and remain swaying on their feet, their shoulders heaving for the air they could not find under the leaden arch of the skyIn a minute, afraid to rest, chanel tote feeling anchored to him, they would pick up the litter and labor forward for another short increment over the endless green and yellow hillsOn the upslopes they would bog down, remain holding him for seconds, their legs incapable of climbing any farther, and then they would strain upward again, advance a few more feet, and stand watching each other
And in the places where they went downhill their thighs would quiver with the effort it took to brake themselves from dropping into a full run, and the muscles in their calves and around their shins would knot painfully, tempting them to stumble and lie motionless in the grass without moving for the rest of the day
Wilson was conscious and in painEvery time they jolted him he would groan, and he was continually thrashing about on the litter, disturbing the balance and making them stumbleFrom time to time he would curse fake gucci fabric at them, and they writhed under itHis screams and shouts flicked through the layers of heat that played over them, goaded them on for a few additional yards
"Goddammit, you men, Ah been watchin' ya, why in the hell cain't you treat a wounded man proper, jus' shakin' me up an' knockin' all the pus around inside, Stanley, you been doin' it jus' to give me the misery, Ah think it's a pretty low mean old thing jus' treatin' a buddy like this His voice would become thin, querulousEvery now and then he would scream from a sudden bump From pain, from the heat, he would blubber like a child"Ah wouldn' do to you like you been doin' to me He would lie back, his mouth open, his breath stirring in the arid cave of his throat like steam vibrating out of the spout of a kettle"Aw, men, take it easy, sonofabitch, men, take it easy
"We're doin' what we can," Brown would watch replicas cartier cr