Lifeboat Page #7

Yeah. Probably Sewell, Gus.

- think I'll take Rosie.

- Where to, Gus?

Ebbets Field.

It's gonna be

a good game this afternoon.

Ritt.

He's off the beam again.

Well, Willi, how about

another song, eh?

Certainly, my friend.

What would you like to hear?

You think you can remember

"Roslein auf der Heide"?

- Sure, sure. Which one was that?

- Dada-di-dadi-dada

Oh, yeah. I know that one,

all right. Now, wait a minute.

- All right.

- got it.

Da-da-da ba-bum barump

Bum barump bum barump

Ba di da-da

- Ritt?

- Huh?

- Do you know "Drei Liebe"?

- You mean, uh, How can I leave...

- That's right.

- Sure.!

Stanley, why do you like to do that?

I don't know.

I can't sing anymore.

Makes me dry.

Doesn't it look to you

as if those clouds are darkening up?

At the center, a bit.

Those really are

rain clouds this time.

- hope so. For Gus's sake.

- That's right.

Why don't you give me

a break, Loot?

The salt'll only

make you thirstier.

You might

just as well sip poison.

"B.M." Her initials are larger

than the others.

Was she the last...

or the first?

What was her name?

- So you won't talk, huh?

- Where'd you get the handcuff, Mrs. Porter?

You may call me Connie.

You did once during the storm,

remember?

You said, uh...

"We might as well

go down together, eh, Connie?"

I liked the way you said Connie.

It was like a sock in the jaw.

Tell me about the bracelet.

That was a dead giveaway,

you know, darling...

wanting us to die together like that.

Dying together is even more

personal than living together.

- What'd you pay for the bracelet?

- Nothing.

- Barter?

- You're a low person, darling...

obviously out of the gutter.

Maybe that's why

I'm attracted to you.

- Maybe that's why you're attracted to me.

- Quit slumming.

Funny part of it is,

I'm from the same gutter.

Remember when you first got

on the boat, you said you used to work...

in the, uh... the packing house

section in Chicago?

Well, I came from there too.

- South Side?

- Ashland Avenue...

back of the yards.

And I lived there

until I got this.

It worked miracles for me.

It took me from the, uh...

South Side to the North Side.

It was my passport...

from the stockyards

to the Gold Coast.

It got me everything

I wanted...

up to now.

Quit slumming!

- How about a few hands, Ritt?

- Huh? Suits me fine.

- Do this up for me.

- Connie, I'll fix it for you.

Come on, Ritt.

- Kovac, how much do I owe you?

- Twelve thousand bucks.

Merely temporary, my friend.

I'll get it back.

- Deal'em.

- Looks like bits of ice.

- wish they were.

- They're really nothing but a few pieces of carbon...

crystallized under high pressure

at great heat.

Quite so, if you want

to be scientific about it.

I'm a great believer

in science.

Like tears, for instance.

They're nothing but H20...

with a trace

of sodium chloride.

He likes you,

but he hates the bracelet.

- You will have to get rid of it.

- Bracelet?

- Mm-hmm.

- 've worn it for 15 years.

- t's brought me nothing but good luck.

- He hates it.

I wouldn't take it off

for anything or anybody in the world.

In the old days, there was a place

in Boston, Young's Hotel...

had the best restaurant

in the world.

Bet it wasn't any better than

Henrici's Coffee House in Chicago...

or Bookbinder's in Philly.

That was food for you.

There, it's fixed. In Munich,

there is a place called Lorber's.

- Their specialty is pot roast.

- Pot roast.

Young's used to have a menu

150 pages long.

Yes, sir, 150 solid pages

of eatments.

And, oh, boy,

what eatments.

- Ever eat

in Antoine's in New Orleans?

Can't compare with Young's.

You never tasted such food in your life...

'specially seafood...

steamed clams dripping

with melted butter...

Iobsters, lobsters a la Newburg

with a special white wine sauce.

- Ritt, shut up!

- What's wrong?

Stop jabbering about food!

Isn't it enough we've lost all our

supplies through your carelessness?

- Carelessness?

- Yes, stupid, criminal carelessness!

But it wasn't me. I wasn't in charge

of the food. The commissary was Joe's job.

- You dirty rat, trying to shift the blame ontoJoe.

- Maybe it was my f...

No, it wasn't! f you'd had brains,

you'd have taken care of them...

- when you saw the storm coming.

- My dear Connie, what's the matter with you?

She's all right,

just a little bit hungry.

What are you squawking about?

lt'll make a swell chapter.

"How It Feels To Be Starving,"

first-person, singular.

Those are good things to

write about, hunger and thirst.

If you really come from

back of the yard...

Kovac, why don't you kill Willi?

Why don't you cut his throat,

like you said you would?

I'll tell you why.

You're not strong enough!

He's made of iron!

The rest of us are just flesh and blood...

hungry flesh and blood, and thirsty.

For the love of Mike,

will you throw that ratty cigar stub away?

- Why should I? Does it annoy you?

- Yes, it makes me nervous...

- watching you chew on it all the time.

- Well, it makes me feel good.

Oh, you feel good, do you?

That's fine. Fine.

Ritt, how much money

are you worth?

- Enough to buy and sell you a million times.

- How about raising the ante?

- Anything you say.

- From now on, each stick is $100.

- Anything you say.

- Deal'em.

Anything you...

- How many factories do you own, Ritt?

- What business is that of yours?

I was just thinking. By the time

we get home, I might own one of them.

Bet a hundred.

Raise a hundred.

- Stay.

- How many cards do you want?

- Three.

- Three to you. Three to the dealer.

Think I'll go for one

of your airplane plants.

- 've got ideas of my own about how to run a factory.

- Yeah, into the ground.

I'll have a labor-management committee.

We'll hold a meeting every week. And first...

Are you trying to tell me

how to run my own factories?

Not all of them, just the one

I'm gonna own.

- Bet a hundred.

- 'll see you. Queens.

Kings.

You know, it's mighty funny

how you keep winning all the pots.

- 'm a lucky guy.

- Well, just the same...

I wish we had

a new deck of cards.

Give me

another stack of chips.

- That's another thousand.

- Your deal.

- Sorry, Ritt.

- Cut you in?

My credit still good?

- Well, uh, your bracelet.

- No, thanks.

- What's the score?

- 13,500.

- How about raising the ante?

- t's your funeral.

- Thousand dollars apiece?

- Right.

Okay.

I'll open for a thousand.

Raise ya two.

I'll raise you two.

Call.

- How many?

- Two cards.

Someday you'll learn it doesn't pay

to hold a kicker...

if you live long enough.

Just to keep the pikers out...

- 'll bet five.

- Matched your kicker, huh?

Five's the bet.

Put up...

- Or shut up.

- And raise you five.

Kovac, now you're talking

my language.

This is the moment

I've been waiting for.

I have got you over a barrel.

We'll do the bookkeeping later.

I'll see your five...

and I'll raise you...

all the chips you've got, plus...

all the money I owe you.

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