Monday, November 10, 2003
OLD STANDING MUMFRY WITH A PUSHBROOM
by J.D. Salinger
For five days straight, Mumfry had stood in the parlor of his Park Avenue apartment, extinguishing cigarettes in an old mustard jar. He watched the girl, asleep on the velour chaise, thumb nestled in her slightly open mouth. Mumfry advanced towards her on the tips of his toes.
"Psst...Bibsy...Wanna get wise?" He whispered.
The girl issued no response, enveloped fully in the womb of sleep. Outside, Negro children hollered at a man with an ice cream cone. Mumfry darted to the window, opening it with a fell sweep of his left hand. He leaned out and felt the chill November air on the nape of his neatly trimmed neck.
"Hey there, kids, any of you youngsters wanna get wise?" He whispered.
The children waved him off with a grimace and ran towards Madison. Mumfry sighed and lit a cigarette, just as Ida Bea entered through the double doors from the kitchen.
"Mister Jennington, I be needing to catch my bus now. Is there anything else you'd be needin'?" She asked, hesitantly, well aware of her employer's parlor moods.
Mumfry remained staring out the open window. A stiff breeze rattled the bamboo blinds above.
"No, no, Ida. Nothing right now...You take care on your way home. It's awfully cold."
"Yes, sir."
She began to put on her overcoat. Mumfry suddenly turned, a slight smirk of possibility radiating softly from his unshaven face.
"Say, Ida..."
The maid paused, her coat halfway on, three lit cigarettes in her mouth.
"Yes sir, Mister Jennington?"
Mumfry put out his cigarette on Bibsy's unconscious forehead and moved towards her, lighting a cigarette as he spoke.
"Ida, I have to ask, do you wanna get wise?"
The large old woman sat on the corner of an end table and pondered the question. Outside, horns honked as an escaped parakeet was chased by several boys in hounds tooth coats. Through all the noise, her dark brown brow remained as smooth as the velvet curtains hanging behind him. He stood closer to her now, repeating the question.
"I said, do you wanna get wise?" His sleeves were now rolled up, his cigarette ready to topple a cylinder of dark gray ash on the new Persian rug.
Ida slowly returned to putting her coat on, all three cigarettes now burnt out, their stubs hanging from her dark, thick lips. She turned to Mumfry and slowly removed each one, dropping them in a small pile on the Persian rug. Outside, the honking ceased, replaced with the diesel rumble of a city bus.
"Mister Jennington, I believe I do."
He smiled confidently and lit a cigarette. Ida Mae glanced over at Bibsy, still asleep on the chaise, oblivious to the various noises outside her window.
by J.D. Salinger
For five days straight, Mumfry had stood in the parlor of his Park Avenue apartment, extinguishing cigarettes in an old mustard jar. He watched the girl, asleep on the velour chaise, thumb nestled in her slightly open mouth. Mumfry advanced towards her on the tips of his toes.
"Psst...Bibsy...Wanna get wise?" He whispered.
The girl issued no response, enveloped fully in the womb of sleep. Outside, Negro children hollered at a man with an ice cream cone. Mumfry darted to the window, opening it with a fell sweep of his left hand. He leaned out and felt the chill November air on the nape of his neatly trimmed neck.
"Hey there, kids, any of you youngsters wanna get wise?" He whispered.
The children waved him off with a grimace and ran towards Madison. Mumfry sighed and lit a cigarette, just as Ida Bea entered through the double doors from the kitchen.
"Mister Jennington, I be needing to catch my bus now. Is there anything else you'd be needin'?" She asked, hesitantly, well aware of her employer's parlor moods.
Mumfry remained staring out the open window. A stiff breeze rattled the bamboo blinds above.
"No, no, Ida. Nothing right now...You take care on your way home. It's awfully cold."
"Yes, sir."
She began to put on her overcoat. Mumfry suddenly turned, a slight smirk of possibility radiating softly from his unshaven face.
"Say, Ida..."
The maid paused, her coat halfway on, three lit cigarettes in her mouth.
"Yes sir, Mister Jennington?"
Mumfry put out his cigarette on Bibsy's unconscious forehead and moved towards her, lighting a cigarette as he spoke.
"Ida, I have to ask, do you wanna get wise?"
The large old woman sat on the corner of an end table and pondered the question. Outside, horns honked as an escaped parakeet was chased by several boys in hounds tooth coats. Through all the noise, her dark brown brow remained as smooth as the velvet curtains hanging behind him. He stood closer to her now, repeating the question.
"I said, do you wanna get wise?" His sleeves were now rolled up, his cigarette ready to topple a cylinder of dark gray ash on the new Persian rug.
Ida slowly returned to putting her coat on, all three cigarettes now burnt out, their stubs hanging from her dark, thick lips. She turned to Mumfry and slowly removed each one, dropping them in a small pile on the Persian rug. Outside, the honking ceased, replaced with the diesel rumble of a city bus.
"Mister Jennington, I believe I do."
He smiled confidently and lit a cigarette. Ida Mae glanced over at Bibsy, still asleep on the chaise, oblivious to the various noises outside her window.
