A Fairy Tale of New York by J. P. Donleavy Read Free Book Online

kidding. What are you living in a place like this for. All the undertakers we know live on Park Avenue.''
    "Arrest him."
    "For the last time shut up lady or we'll arrest you. This guy has got a perfectly normal story. For this precinct anyway. Can you prove this. Your name Cornelius Christian on this tag."
    "Yes."
    "Hey who called us anyway. Ok it doesn't matter. Now everybody pipe down and stop pushing. Lady you got a telephone."
    "Yeah you pay to use it."
    "Ok buddy who do I check your story with.''
    ''Vine funeral home.''
    "Is that right. You mean Clarance. Vine.''
    "Yes. And I 'm late for work.''
    "Hey well you're working with him. Used to be my beat. Sure I know Clarance. Real nice guy. He's so successful he's opening up his third branch on the east side over there. Goes right down five floors into the foundations. Going to be really something. Well what do you know. Ok lady this show's over.''
    "He legitimate."
    "That's right."
    "Well he's undertaking."
    "That's right lady."
    "He should live with other undertakers. Not in a house with normals."
    "Nothing to do with us lady."
    "Cocksucker could have disease he catch off the bodies.''
    "Now lady why don't you have some manners. Calm down before you get yourself into trouble. Call the commissioner of health if you're worried. This is how murders happen. Be glad he's not a snake charmer with a bunch of cobras under the bed. And why don't get someone to put salt on the ice on your steps."
    ''My nephew here Angelo 's doing it.''
    "Hey whose lead pipe is this.''
    The contingent departing. Foot shaped puddles of water from the melted snow on the floor. Christian putting on his grey tweed overcoat and grabbing his manual. Quickly down the stairs. Past the sneering greasy face of Mrs Grotz peering from her door. Nice to know what makes people dislike you. To call you a cock-sucker. And there's Angelo the brother of Broken Legs Vinnie. Four glaring brown eyes, two belong to his dog as he looks up from his shovel. Policemen in their squad car. One gives a wave. Other writes in a notebook. He's winding down his window. Have to find a taxi I 'm so late.
    "Hey, Mr Christian, come on, get in. We'll give you a lift. We 're going your way.''
    Leaping across the drift of snow in the gutter. Christian getting in the back of the squad car. In the static coming over the radio a voice announcing. Go to the intersection of Fifth and Fiftieth. Man on sixteenth floor threatening to jump into Fifth Avenue, calling all cars.
    Siren blaring. Squad car skidding away. Streaking across the snowy winding road through the park. In the Hunter's Gate and out the Miner's Gate and down Fifth Avenue. Lady bundled in furs turns to look as her poodle in mink lifts a leg to pee. Good to be regarded with a glance or two as one goes ploughing by. Without a siren it's hard to get noticed. This jumper could be a prospective customer. Who may have to be cleaned off the street. Unless he's on the sixteenth floor of a doll's house. Might get embedded in the roof of a car. Or land on five pedestrians. Be six for Vine. Fire engine. Flags waving. Just in front.
    "Well Mr Christian. This guy jumps there could be plenty of custard around. How's this for service. Tell Clarance Dick was asking for him. You ought to change your address."
    Crosstown east. There's the dark green awning out. Covered in a mantel of snow. Buses splashing grey masses of frozen slush. Vine's pickup truck busy at the loading entrance. Street empty. Save for a solitary trudging head down shielding a big brown envelope. Commerce continues. Snow on the elevated train roaring past down the street. Enter here. Warm and comforting. Snow melting inside my shoe.
    ''Where 've you been Christian. You 're late.''
    "I'm sorry Mr Vine. My landlady tried to throw me out because she thought I was a mortician. Professional prejudice. The police came. One of them knew you. Dick.''
    Vine a dark visage planted the center of his canary carpet. A pearl pin in his tie. His