Martha Prentice had just given me my second slash.

Russ got back into his car and Martha gave me a last, pointed look that pricked at me like a vaccination. “I’ll be seeing you, Mr. Sherwood,” she said.

As we pulled out of the driveway, her stare pulled at me as if it were drawing blood.

Chapter 26

26

Railroad Crossing

My appearance caused some minor comment on the bandstand that night. Jack did not have me sing “Beef Lo Mein” or “Too Bad for You.” Frankie Pompano could see the makeup I was wearing from where he was sitting and asked if I wanted to go out with him tomorrow for a henna. Vera stated for the benefit of the trombone section that she’d known I had a swelled head for years.

I didn’t know what the hell to do about Martha Prentice’s admonition. Gail and I had agreed to begin work the next day at eleven, at her mother’s home. How was I supposed to cancel it, and what reason would I give?

On my breaks, I tried calling Gail at the Berkeley Club from the coin telephones near the men’s lounge, but the first time she was out and the second time the club’s switchboard was closed for the night. I realized I’d just have to try her in the morning. I requested a wake-up call from the Claremont operator for nine.

The next morning my phone rang at the appointed hour. The soreness from my fistfight came on slowly, like music from a radio as the tubes warm up.

“Hello,” I uttered with some effort.

“Good morning, Mr. Sherwood, this is your nine A.M. wake-up call.”

“Thank you, Operator,” I grunted.

“Rise and shine,” she advised.

“Yes, thanks.”

“Up and at ’em, sweetie,” she further counseled. “Don’t want to keep the world waiting. Big day, lots to do.”

“Operator?”

“And just between you and me, that girl you’re meeting? I think she likes you.”

I was awake now. “Gail.”

“Morning, Ray. See, I’ve been here in the lobby since 8:30 but they wouldn’t ring your room for me because you had a wake-up call for nine. So at 8:59, I told them to let me be your wake-up call. I thought maybe we could go out for breakfast before we get cooped up for the day. Oh, you’re not in bed with some shameless hussy, are you?”

“No, but listen, I haven’t shaved—”

“Gee, okay, then you better get yourself in gear. Oh, and Ray? Dress your sharpest, ’cause several lounge lizards down here have already mistaken me for a woman named ‘Hey Good-looking.’ ”