The park stretched away into distant flower-beds, trees and heavy shrubs. Near the main gates was a large boating-pond. A number of brightly painted boats rested at anchor in the middle of the pond. Tennis-courts to the right of the pond were deserted. The nets hung slackly, and the white lines stood out sharply against the green grass.
It was early. If it had been a Sunday, no doubt even at that hour, the park would have been crowded, but it was only Thursday, and there was work to be done.
So, for over an hour, the park was very peaceful, and the only sign of movement was from the birds that sang in the sunshine, and flew from branch to branch, or suddenly swooped to the ground. Then two young men walked through the main gates and moved down the centre avenue. They looked very much alike. They were both dressed in shabby blue suits, pinched in at the waist, and very baggy in the trousers. They wore pointed shoes that they hadn’t bothered to clean, and black, slouch hats worn tilted on the bridge of their noses. Cigarettes dangled from slack lips, and their hands were thrust deeply into trouser pockets, hunching their shoulders.
Although they were shabby, there was a rhythmic smartness in their movements. Their walk and their balanced poise was similar to the movements of a tiger treading softly through a dense thicket.
They walked past the boating-pond, leaving a wispy trail of tobacco smoke that floated in the still air behind them. On, past the flower-beds, through the avenue of trees and then, branching off the main avenue, they walked along a smaller path that led to the woods.
They didn’t speak to each other, but their bright bird-like eyes, moving in quick little darts, missed nothing. The path twisted through the woods, mounting gradually to a high mound which overlooked the whole of the park. Walking, now in single file, they finally reached the top and stood motionless, their eyes darting to the right and to the left. The park seemed quite deserted. Except for these two young men, and the birds, nothing moved.
The two young men remained standing motionless for some little while, their cigarettes bobbing now and then, as they drew in a lungful of smoke. Then one of them nudged the other. A long way to the right he had seen a movement that had caught his eye. His companion’s eyes darted in the direction that the other had indicated. He could just make out someone moving towards them, appearing and disappearing behind the screen of trees. Both of them became very intent. Their heads thrust forward and their eyes narrowed.
After a short while, a girl came out of the wood and moved towards them up the twisty path.
They looked at each other and nodded, then they separated and vanished into the bushes.
The girl came on slowly, unconscious that she wasn’t entirely alone. She wore a cheap print dress that had once been very pretty, but constant washing had faded its large flowered pattern. She was bareheaded, and carried a perky little straw hat in her hand. She was above the average height and slender. Her figure was rather childish, and she had soft, smudgy curves as if she had never worn a restricting garment.
She was not exactly pretty, because her features were irregular and her expression vague, but the two young men, watching her, thought she was attractive enough.
She came on slowly, swinging her hat carelessly, and singing softly. She reached the top of the mound and looked a little vaguely round the park. Then she sat down with her back to a tree, stretched out her long legs and adjusted the dress with a prim little movement.
The two young men gave her a few minutes to settle down, then they made a quick, silent detour and came out on to the path where she was bound to see them. They walked towards her silently, and without appearing to notice her.
Under their hat brims they saw that she was startled. In fact, for a moment, their sudden appearance nearly panicked her. She started up as if she were about to spring to her feet, but seeing that they were so close she turned her head, as if she hadn’t seen them, and relaxed once more against the tree.
One of the young men said, “Do you think we ought to speak to her?”
“Aw, Jakie, why not? She looks sort of lonely all by herself.”
The girl kept her head turned from them, but they could see by the way she stiffened that she had heard what they had said.
The young man addressed as Jakie moved closer to her. “It’s a nice morning, isn’t it?” he said. His voice was very flat, cold and unmusical.
She didn’t say anything.
“It’s swell to walk in the park on a mornin’ like this, ain’t it?” he went on, gently kicking a root of the tree with his soiled shoe. “There’s no one about. You can just wander around an’ do what you like.”
The other young man suddenly giggled.
Jakie frowned at him. “Gee, Pugsey, can’t you behave? Ain’t nothin’ to laugh about.”
Pugsey giggled again. “She ain’t takin’ any notice of you,” he said. “Don’t look like you’re gettin’ places so fast.”
Jakie turned back to the girl. “You mustn’t mind him,” he said. “You see, he don’t know how to handle dames. I do.”
She still said nothing.
Pugsey said, “Maybe she’s deaf,” hopefully.
Jakie shook his head. “Naw,” he said, “she ain’t deaf; she’s just a little dumb.”
Pugsey gave a sudden squeal of laughter. “Gee!” he said. “I bet you read that somewhere. That’s pretty smart.”
The girl suddenly looked at them. Her eyes were scared, not because she was frightened of them, but because she was scared that they were making fun of her. “Go away, please,” she said, “I don’t want to talk to you.”
Jakie took a step back. “Did you hear that, Pugsey? She don’t want to talk to us.”
“Too bad,” Pugsey said, squatting on his heels and staring at the girl. He kept his distance and was to the rear and to the right of Jakie. “Can you think of any reason why she wouldn’t want to talk to us?”
Jakie shook his head. “Naw,” he said. “Suppose you ask her?”
“You’re a smart guy,” Pugsey said. “Isn’t he a smart guy?” he went on to the girl. “Jakie always gets to the root of anything. You see, he wants to know why. You tell us.”
The girl looked away without speaking.
“She’s in a trance again,” Pugsey said, shifting a little nearer. “I don’t think she likes you, Jakie.”
Jakie sat on the ground and leant back on his elbows. The girl was between the two of them. He selected a long blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “What the hell’s the matter with me?” he asked. “Why shouldn’t she like me?”
Pugsey considered this. “Maybe you smell or something,” he suggested, after some thought.
Jakie picked his nose. “Ask her,” he said.
“What’s wrong with Jakie?” Pugsey asked, looking at the girl. “That’s a fair question, ain’t it?”
She made a move as if she were going to get up, but the two suddenly became very tense, looking at her coldly with their hard little eyes, and she relaxed again against the tree. She looked rather desperately across the park, but she could see no one.
The two followed her gaze. “Too early,” Jakie said. “We’re lucky to find you, I guess. Do you know, Pugsey, she reminds me of that little judy we ran into a couple of weeks ago on Franklin Street.”
“The one we took into that empty house?” Pugsey asked.
“Yeah.”
Pugsey looked at the girl again. “Maybe you’ve got something there. Yeah, I think you’ve got something there.”
“She ain’t so fair, is she? Still, she’s about the same age. Jeeze! Didn’t that one squawk when we—you know.”
Pugsey giggled. “It don’t matter a great deal if this one squawks here, does it? I mean, there ain’t anyone around to come bustin’ in. Maybe she’ll be sensible.”
The girl had gone very white and her eyes opened wide. She put one hand on the ground and struggled up on her knees.
Jakie said, “Looks like she’s goin’ to take a powder.”
Pugsey edged a little nearer. “Naw,” he said, “she’s going to be sensible, ain’t you, baby?”
The girl said: “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you. Go away. Please go away.”
Jakie put his fingers into his vest pocket. “Hear her talk,” he said, his dark little eyes darting over her. “Think I ought to try and persuade her?”
Pugsey nodded. “Yeah, we better hurry. Look, it’s gettin’ late.” He produced a cheap watch and waved it in front of Jakie.
Jakie took a little green bottle with a glass stopper from his pocket. He said to the girl: “It’s acid. Burns, you know; eats into things. Makes holes in your skin.”
The girl crouched back. She tried to speak, but she could only make a terrified whimpering noise.
“If I throw this at you,” Jakie said simply, “it’ll spoil your pretty face. I just want you to be sensible and do what you’re told. If you try and get tough, then you’ll get this in your mug, see? Otherwise, you’ll be all right.”
Pugsey giggled again.
“Maybe we’d better toss for it,” Jakie said, taking a dime out of his pocket.
Pugsey called and won. Jakie got up and dusted down his suit. He put the little bottle in his pocket. Then he looked at the girl with his cold, unfeeling eyes. “I got it here,” he said, patting his pocket, “be good. I ain’t tellin’ you a second time. One dame didn’t believe me. Remember how she squawked, Pugsey? Remember how she ran down the street with the stuff stripping the meat off her face? She was a dope, wasn’t she? Be smart, sister. We ain’t going to be long.”
Pugsey walked over to her and pulled her to her feet. She cringed from him, but she didn’t try to run away.
Jakie sat with his back to a tree, his black hat over his nose, and a cigarette dangling from his thin lips. His little eyes kept watch over the park, missing nothing.
When Pugsey got through, Jakie went over to the girl, and Pugsey kept watch. Pugsey had to stuff his handkerchief in his mouth to stop his giggles when the girl began crying. He was mighty glad that she hadn’t done that when he was with her. Jakie had betted him a dollar that she would be too scared to cry. It amused Pugsey to think he’d won a dollar from Jakie, because Jakie hated giving money away.
They left the girl on the mound and walked back to the boating-pond. Jakie gave Pugsey the dollar rather sourly.
Pugsey didn’t want him to feel bad about it, so he said: “You’re a smart guy, Jakie. I didn’t really think it would work.”
Jakie took the little bottle out of his pocket and fondled it. “I knew it would,” he said, with a thin grimace that served him as a smile. “But it was a good thing she didn’t look too close, the bottle’s empty.” He went to the edge of the pond and carefully dipped the bottle in, filling it with the muddy water. “It wouldn’t do to make the same mistake twice.”
Pugsey said: “Naw, but these dames are pretty dumb. They wouldn’t notice nothin’.”
Together they went out of the park, moving slightly less rhythmetically than they had when they came in.