“It’s like they were to—himself.”

Cal said, “I know about the willow tree.”

She didn’t seem surprised. “Do you?” she asked.

“Are you mad at Aron?”

“No, not mad. I just can’t find him. I don’t know him.”

“Wait around,” said Cal. “Maybe he’s going through something.”

“I wonder if I’ll be all right. Do you think I could have been wrong all the time?”

“How do I know?”

“Cal,” she said, “is it true that you go out late at night and even go—to—bad houses?”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s true. Did Aron tell you?”

“No, not Aron. Well, why do you go there?”

He walked beside her and did not answer.

“Tell me,” she said.

“What’s it to you?”

“Is it because you’re bad?”

“What’s it sound like to you?”

“I’m not good either,” she said.

“You’re crazy,” said Cal. “Aron will knock that out of you.”

“Do you think he will?”

“Why, sure,” said Cal. “He’s got to.”

Chapter 45

[1]

JOE VALERY GOT ALONG by watching and listening and, as he said himself, not sticking his neck out. He had built his hatreds little by little—beginning with a mother who neglected him, a father who alternately whipped and slobbered over him. It had been easy to transfer his developing hatred to the teacher who disciplined him and the policeman who chased him and the priest who lectured him. Even before the first magistrate looked down on him, Joe had developed a fine stable of hates toward the whole world he knew.

Hate cannot live alone. It must have love as a trigger, a goad, or a stimulant. Joe early developed a gentle protective love for Joe. He comforted and flattered and cherished Joe. He set up walls to save Joe from a hostile world. And gradually Joe became proof against wrong. If Joe got into trouble, it was because the world was in angry conspiracy against him. And if Joe attacked the world, it was revenge and they damn well deserved it—the sons of bitches. Joe lavished every care on his love, and he perfected a lonely set of rules which might have gone like this:

1. Don’t believe nobody. The bastards are after you.

2. Keep your mouth shut. Don’t stick your neck out.

3. Keep your ears open. When they make a slip, grab on to it and wait.

4. Everybody’s a son of a bitch and whatever you do they got it coming.

5. Go at everything roundabout.

6. Don’t never trust no dame about nothing.

7. Put your faith in dough. Everybody wants it. Everybody will sell out for it.

There were other rules, but they were refinements. His system worked, and since he knew no other, Joe had no basis of comparison with other systems. He knew it was necessary to be smart and he considered himself smart. If he pulled something off, that was smart; if he failed, that was bad luck. Joe was not very successful but he got by and with a minimum of effort. Kate kept him because she knew he would do anything in the world if he were paid to do it or was afraid not to do it. She had no illusions about him. In her business Joes were necessary.