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"Well, thank you, Jim," said Addison.
"Yes, thank you," said Milford.
"Oh, it was nothing," said Diamond Jim. "Just another pack of hyenas in the night, but stand up to them and they turn tail every time. Or nearly every time. And if they do try to gang up on you, that's when a good stout stick like this one comes in handy."
He raised his cane and gave it a twirl.
"Well, we appreciate it," said Addison.
"Take my advice," said Diamond Jim. "I know walking sticks are out of fashion, but get yourself a sturdy leather sap, the kind with good tensile steel encased in it, or high-quality ball-bearings. And a set of brass knuckles fits nicely in a gentleman's pocket."
"Um," said Addison, knowing he would never spend money on a sap or brass knuckles that could have been spent on whiskey or beer.
"Uh," said Milford, wondering where one even went to buy a sap or a set of brass knuckles.
Diamond Jim's cigarette in its shiny black holder had gone out, and he extricated the stub and flicked it away. Once again he produced his gem-studded cigarette case and clicked it open, and Addison and Milford tossed away their own dwindled butts and accepted fresh Husky Boys from the big man, as well as lights from his Ohio Blue Tip wooden match.
"You'll note that I tempt fate by lighting three on a match," said Diamond Jim, igniting his own cigarette. "Superstitions are for fools." He blew out the match with a thick cloud of Husky Boy smoke, and then flicked it away.
"Or do you chaps disagree? Appleton?" he said, addressing Addison.
"Oh, no," said Addison. "I think life is quite confusing enough without bringing superstition into it."
"And you, Gilbey?" said Jim, to Milford.
"Yes, I agree," said Milford. "But I myself am a fool, and so my opinion matters little."
Diamond Jim smiled.
"I like you, Gilroy," he said to Milford.
"And you too, Thatcherton," he said to Addison. "Some people might look at you fellas and think, oh, a couple of boring nonentities, but I look at you both and see, yes, I'll tell you what I see. Heroes. Heroes, God damn it."
"Gee," said Addison.
"Heroes," said Diamond Jim. He cast his gaze on Milford. "You remain silent, my lad. Do you think me wrong in my assessment?"
"I wouldn't presume to say," said Milford.
"I beg you, presume. We are all friends here. Do you or do you not agree with me that you and Bartleson here are heroes?"
"I agree that we are both the heroes of our own sad little lives," said Milford. "As are all human beings."
"So," said Diamond Jim after a brief pause, "you are not only a hero, but, yea, a philosopher."
Milford said nothing to this.
Who was he to argue with a man who had just saved them from a gang of douchebags, and a man who, furthermore, was supplying them with cigarettes?
"Shall we now continue our journey?" said Diamond Jim.
"Yes," said Addison.
"Muggins?" said Diamond Jim to Milford.
"Yes?" said Milford.
"I say, shall we continue?"
"Oh, yes, of course," said Milford.
"To the Hideaway then!" boomed Diamond Jim. "Come, lads, and do try to keep up with me."
And off he went again, down the dim corridor, and Addison and Milford did their best to try to keep up.
Amazingly, not five minutes later, perhaps ten, they came to the familiar door, on which hung the hand-painted sign reading
"THE HIDEAWAY"
Leave your cares behind
and your bullshit too.
Ring the bell and wait.
"See, boys?" said Diamond Jim. "I told you I knew the way."
"Indeed you did, Jim," said Addison.
They could hear music from behind the door, and singing, and the sound of laughing and shouting voices
"Are you excited, Heatherington?" asked Jim.
"Yes, I must say I am," said Addison.
"Bugford?" said Diamond Jim to Milford. "You up for a good time?"
"Yes," said Milford.
"You don't seem entirely sure."
"I'm not entirely sure of anything," said Milford.
"Ha ha, you slay me, Bumfort," said Diamond Jim, and he pressed his great forefinger, the only kind of forefinger he had, against the door button.
While they waited for someone to answer the door, Diamond Jim turned to Milford and Addison.
"By the way, have you boys tried the food here?"
"I haven't actually," said Addison. "Is it good?"
"To die for," said Diamond Jim. "What about you, Dilbert?"
"Yes?" said Milford.
"Have you sampled the chow in this joint?"
"Uh, no."
"You have to try the possum stew."
"Um," said Milford.
"Get it with some hush puppies on the side, for dipping."
"Uh," said Milford.
"The squirrel stew is good too, don't get me wrong, but the possum stew, you gotta try it."
"Um," said Milford, who preferred Bond white bread toasted and lightly spread with oleomargarine over all other foods, but he didn't want to seem rude or ungrateful.
The door opened, our friends turned, and there stood the enormous Negro, John Henry, in his railroad man's overalls and cap, and with an enormous cigar in one hand. Behind him the music and shouting and laughter surged and pulsed like the promise of happiness on earth.
"Well, look who the fuck it is," he said, smiling broadly. "Diamond Jim his own bad self. And these two sad-ass motherfuckers."
"How's it hanging, John Henry?" said Diamond Jim.
"Not bad, big man, not bad. How you doing?"
"Never better, John Henry," said Diamond Jim, and he extended his enormous hand, which was taken by John Henry's own enormous hand.
Both Milford and Addison felt very small witnessing this meeting of two giants, each so full of life, and they glanced at each other, seeing the same thing in each other's eyes, the knowledge that the best they could do was to bear witness, and to try not to be trampled underfoot.
Milford looked past the two titans trading friendly witticisms, into the crowded noisy and smoky barroom, and there with a flutter in his heart he saw sitting at their table laughing among themselves Mistress Bradstreet, Miss Harriet, Miss Emily, and, yes, Miss Louisa. Beyond them he glimpsed Miss Blackbourne and Mr. Whitman dancing vigorously on the small crowded dance floor as Jelly Roll pounded the piano and sang these words:
Dance the Black Bottom, mama,
dance it like there ain't no tomorrow.
Dance that Black Bottom, little mama,
and make me forget my grief and sorrow…
Diamond Jim turned from John Henry and looked at Addison and Milford.
"Well, lads," he said, "are you ready to live a little?"
"Yes," said Addison. "I think it's time."
Milford too was ready, as ready as he was ever likely to be.
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