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Show Acting Alone Page 113 on the couch and, as the reporters' flashbulbs exploded all around, Sam would say, "Why don't you just die, old man? You haven't written anything readable in twenty-five years." So, out with the literature, and in with the sax jazz! Sam had finally found him a home. His favorite song was Dave Brubeck's "The Duke," which he'd figured out, sort of, by ear. Sam and the sarge were actually starting to develop what could almost be called an interpersonal relationship. They shared the following humanizing dramatic bedtime scene, where Spikey opened up and revealed something true and human about himself by means of piquant dialogue -: It was nighttime in the Wamsutter living room, and the television was taking a much-needed rest. Shanny was upstairs, probably sucking her thumb, sleeping alone in the guest room at Mama Mae Bell's tacit insistence. Shanny had come down a bit earlier wearing some silly Bambi peejays on her body and a mock-virtuous expression on her face, and had said night-night to everybody. Like a child she'd dealt out little kisses to everybody all around the living room, a furtive tongue pushed under Sam's big harelip - (that's right, Shanny, be true to your gender: tease him, leave him hard, then deny him yourself for eight to ten hours). And now Sam was alone in the dark on the couch, wadded up double between the doilied - rather antimacassared - armrests, his head between his knees, expected to go to sleep here amid all the weird wheat-rustling, dog-yipping |