David Goodis - Black Friday

by David Goodis

Copyright 1954 by David Goodis

Copyright renewed 1982 by the Estate ofDavid Goodis

All rights reserved under Internationaland Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the UnitedStates by Vintage Books, a division of Random House, Inc., NewYork, and distributed in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited,Toronto. This edition published by arrangement with Scott MeredithAgency.

First Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Edition,October 1990

ISBN 0-679-73255-1

black friday

January cold came in from two rivers,formed four walls around Hart and closed in on him. He told himselfan overcoat was imperative. He looked up and down Callohil Streetand saw an old guy coming toward him and the old guy featured a bigovercoat and big, heavy work shoes. The overcoat came nearer andHart worked his way into an alley and waited. He was shivering andhe could feel the cold eating into his chest and tearing away athis spine. He came out of the alley as the old guy walked past, andhe was behind him. The street was empty. He moved up on the old guyand then noticed how the old guy was bent and the overcoat was oldand torn. The old guy would have a hard time getting anotherovercoat.

Hart turned and walked down CallohillStreet. He pulled up the collar of his chocolate-brown flannel suitand told himself a lot of good that did. He turned around again andwalked toward Broad Street, and he was hatingPhiladelphia.

The cold was even worse on Broad Street.From the east it brought an icy flavor from the Delaware. From thewest it carried a mean grey frost from the Schuylkill. Hart hadbeen brought up in a warm climate and besides that he was a skinnyman and he couldn't stand this cold weather.

He looked south on Broad Street and thebig clock on City Hall said six-twenty. It was already getting darkand lights were showing in store windows here and there. Hart puthis hands in his trousers pockets and continued north on BroadStreet. Then he took his hand out of his left pocket and looked atthree quarters, a dime, a nickel and three pennies. That was all hehad and he needed an overcoat. He needed a meal and a place to stayand he could use a cigarette. He thought maybe it would be a goodidea to walk across Broad and keep on walking until he reached theDelaware River and then take a fast dive and put an end to thewhole thing.

He grinned, Just thinking about it madehim feel better. It made him realize that as long as he was alivehe'd get along somehow. He could hope for a break.

The cold hit again from four sides, gotinside him and began to freeze there. He walked on fighting thecold. He passed a store window with a mirror border and stoodlooking at himself. The flannel suit was still in fairly good shapeand that helped some. The collar of the white shirt was grey at theedges and that wasn't so good. He had a mania for clean whiteshirts. That was something else he needed, a few shirts andunderwear and socks. It was a pity he had to get off that train insuch a hurry. In a few months or so the railroad would beauctioning his suitcase and his things.

He stood there looking in the mirror, andthe cold beat into his back. He needed a haircut. His pale blondhair was wisping around his ears. And he needed a shave. His eyeswere pale grey and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He wasgetting older. In another month he'd be thirty-four.

He smiled sadly at the poor thing in themirror, the poor skinny thing. Once he had owned ayacht.

It was really dark now and he told himselfhe better get a move on. He walked on another block and thenstopped in front of a clothing store. A sign in the windowannounced a sale. A prematurely bald man was arranging garments inthe window. Hart walked into the store.

The salesman smiled eagerly atHart.

Hart said, "I'd like to see anovercoat."

"Why, certainly7 the salesman said. "We'vegot a lot of fine ones'

"I only want one," Hart said.

"Why, certainly," the salesman said again.He started toward a rack and then turned and stared at Hart. "Howcome you're stuck without an overcoat in this weather?"

"I'm careless," Hart skid. "I don't takecare of myself."

The salesman was looking at Hart'sturned-up coat collar.

Hart said, "Do you want to sell me anovercoat?"

"Why, certainly," the salesman said. "Whatkind would you like?"

"The warm kind."

The salesman took a coat from a hanger."Just feel that fleece. Try it on. You never wore anything likethat in all your life. Just feel it."

Hart got into the coat. It was much toolarge. He took it off and handed it back to thesalesman.

"What's the matter?" the salesmansaid.

"It's too small," Hart said.

The salesman handed Hart another coat,saying, "Try that on and see how it fits'

Hart got into the coat. It was a fairfit.

"There's your coat," the salesmansaid.

Hart ran his fingers along the brightgreen fleece. He said, "How much?"

"Thirty-nine seventy-five," the salesmansaid. "And it's a buy. I'm telling you it's a real buy. You can seefor yourself, it's a buy' The salesman whirled, and as if he wassummoning help for a drowning man he waved an arm and yelled,"Harry, come over here!"

The prematurely bald man came out of thewindow and walked across the store.

The salesman said, "Harry, come here andtake a look at this coat."

Harry put long fingers into his trouserspockets and looked at the overcoat and began to nodsolemnly.

"That's what I call an overcoat," thesalesman said.

"It's one of the specials, isn't it?"Harry said.

"Why, certainly," the salesman said. "Why,certainly its one of the specials."

"How much did you say it was?" Hartasked.

"Thirty-nine seventy-five," the salesmansaid. "And if you can get another value like that any place intown, you go ahead. You go right ahead and see if you can findanother overcoat like that in town. A genuine Lapama fleece foronly thirty-nine seventy-five. I'm telling you I don't know how westay in business."

Hart frowned dubiously and looked down atthe front of the coat. Then, as his head was lowered he brought hisgaze up and he saw the salesman winking at Harry.

The salesman said, "Harry, if he doesn'tbuy this coat you put it in the window with one of the big pricetags and five will get you fifty we sell it in tenminutes."

"Do you mean what you're saying?" Hartasked.

"Why, certainly," the salesman said. "Doyou realize what fine fleece that is? If you don't take thatovercoat you'll never forgive yourself."

"All right," Hart said. "I'll take it." Hewalked toward the door.

"That'll be thirty-nine seventy-five," thesalesman said. He was walking behind Hart, and then he got excitedas Hart moved faster, and he said, "Hey, listen--"

Hart opened the door and ranout.

There were three customers in the smalltaproom on Twelfth Street off Race. As Hart came in the threecustomers turned and looked at him and the man behind the bar kepton wiping a glass. Hart walked into the lavatory and took off thecoat and tore off the size slip and the price ticket. With the coatover his shoulder he came out of the lavatory and went up to thebar and ordered a beer. He was two-thirds finished with the beerwhen a policeman entered the taproom and stood there in the doorwayexamining the four faces and then walked slowly towardHart.

Hart looked up, holding the glass close tohis mouth.

The policeman gestured toward the brightgreen coat. "Where did you get that?"

"In a store," Hart said.

"Where?"

"I think it was Atlantic City. Or it mighthave been Albuquerque."

"Are you trying to be smart?"

"Yes," Hart said.

"You stole that coat, didn'tyou?"

"Sure," Hart said, and he tossed the beerinto the policeman's eyes, going forward as the policeman let out ayell going backward, and he was past the policeman, hearing theexcitement behind him as he ran out.