Max Baer and the Star of David by Jay Neugeboren Read Free Book Online Page B

correctable omission,” Joleen said.
    “Glad to hear it,” Max said. “So now that I answered your question like you asked, how about those hugs and kisses?”
    “Of course,” Joleen said, and she rose and, as if she herself had become a cloth doll, embraced each of us in a limp, perfunctory manner.
    “Since my husband has been dilatory in telling you of this chapter in our lives—nor, I confess, have I been as forthcoming as I might have been—I will tell it to you,” she said. “But be forewarned: it is not a tale that will inspire joy or hope, and it is one that will surely bring me down with gray hairs to the grave.”
    Max turned to me. “Do you know what the hell’s going on here, Horace?” he asked. “I can understand your wife being pissed at us for being away so long, and maybe it was bad manners to bust in here first thing, but that was just my way of showing how much I missed you, see, and—”
    “You are a child, Max Baer,” Joleen said. “And a fool, which is doubtless why so many adore you, though I do not, for such reasons, count myself among them.”
    “Ah come on,” Max said. “You know how you feel about me, so why don’t you sweeten up and we’ll make amends, okay? Amends—that’s the right word, ain’t it? I mean, you can punish me later any way you want for being gone so long—only don’t be getting sore at Horace. He ain’t to blame for nothing, and hey—to show how much I been thinking about you, I brought you some stuff from New York you’re gonna love.”
    “Do you want to hear about my brother?” Joleen asked.
    “You know it,” Max said. “Only I ain’t spent time with my own family yet, and my brother Buddy’s hungry for getting me in the ring so we can bang each other around. But I’ll be back after, and with the surprises I brought for you, okay?”
    “I take no pleasure from material gifts,” Joleen said. “Be assured, however, that despite my subdued manner, I do retain considerable affection for you, as I do for my husband. Before the enormity of my brother’s death, however, and my memory of it, the memories of our times together—you and me, sir—do, necessarily, grow small.”
    “I get what you’re telling me,” Max said. “Sure. So how about I give you two lovebirds some private time together and come back after dinner, and you tell me your story then. I’d be glad to hear it. Really.”
    “You say that you will be glad to hear it—true in prospect, yes, though in the hearing of it, I expect, no,” she said, and then, more softly: “‘By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.’”
    “But we’re here now!” Max said. “So you don’t got to worry no more. Like they say—lost and found, and found is better than lost, right?”
    “Perhaps,” Joleen said. “But you must also distinguish between ‘lost’ and ‘loss,’ and it is the latter that troubles my days of late, though it need not trouble yours. So take your leave of me to be with those others you love, and whether your word proves true or not—whether you return or wander away again—know this: I will have vengeance, Max Baer.”
    “Oh sure,” Max said. “I can understand that.”
    Joleen smiled for the first time since our arrival. “You can understand what?”
    “About me coming and going so much—more going than coming, that’s for sure.”
    “I do not think you heard my words,” Joleen said, and she repeated them in the same toneless manner as before: “I will have vengeance, Max Baer.”
    “Against who?” Max asked.
    “Against whom ,” Joleen said, correcting him.
    “Whom—sure,” Max said. “And I don’t envy whoever—whomever?—it is you got a grudge against, because I know you, Joleen, and I can tell just how royally pissed off you are from how goddamned calm you’re being. But you know what? Inside you, sweetheart, you seethe with rage the way I do, and the same goes for Silent Sam