ShowMan

“Isn’t it funny? The way snow lights up a room?” Max said as he slid all the boxes to the left away from the windows, “come on. I know you don’t trust me but surely you must admit, the room is all aglow, like clouds or something.” Simon completely ignored him and went over to check the door again.

” What time is it?” Simon asked. Max made an exaggerated show out of checking his watch, trying to provoke laughter. Simon was a closed sign pulled down at the box office window.

” Ten past.” Turning back to the window, Max picked up his duffel bag and placed it on the only table with the only chair.” Can you see now?” He asked Simon while he started to unpack the prints.

“Yes and just in time. Isn’t that your girl?” Simon made a sour face that leapt into bitter when he cracked an unnatural smile, “In that brown coat, right there.” He pointed with a long alien finger.

” I do declare,” Max said jumping up and dancing like a boxer warming up for a fight, ” we are about to make Repucci a rich man!”

“Knock it off! For chrissakes its like working with a goddamned monkey.” Simon left the room to guide Myra Swashnek up to the room. Since Repucci was such a big contributor, the school allowed them to use space not occupied for their “transactions”. Although no one ever said it was for Repucci. Christ no, not if you valued your kneecaps.

Max hummed as he set up his own little kiosk on the worn card table. He laid out the prints then took out index cards and a pen. Then he slid the duffel bag next to the chair, a rickety old number that had seen better days. He heard voices approaching and he quickly straightened his coat and rubbed the gold tooth that peeked out from his salesman smile. Ahhh this was the stuff. The thrill of the pitch, the sale. Even though Repucci’s man Gus had assured him Ms. Swashnek was ready to buy, a good salesman never counts his chickens before they hatch. No way.

Max started talking as soon as he saw a sliver of person in the door way.

About these ads