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Probably nothing in the way of promotion Holman's
Department Store ever did attracted so much favourable comment
as the engagement of the flag-pole skater. Day after day, there
he was up on his little round platform skating round and round,
and at night he could be seen up there too, dark against the
sky, so that everybody knew he didn't come down. It was generally
agreed, however, that a steel rod came up through the centre
of the platform at night and he strapped himself to it. But he
didn't sit down and no one minded the steel rod. People came
from Jamesburg to see him and from down the coast as far as Grimes
Point. Salinas people came over in droves and the Farmers Mercantile
of that town put in a bid for the next appearance, when the skater
could attempt to break his own record and thus give the new world's
record to Salinas. Since there weren't many flag-pole skaters
and since this one was by far the best, he had for the last year
gone about breaking his own world's record.
Holman's was delighted about the venture. They had
a white sale, a remnant sale, an aluminium sale, and a crockery
sale all going at the same time. Crowds of people stood in the
street watching the lone man on his platform.
His second day up, he sent down word that someone
was shooting at him with an air-gun. The display department used
its head. It figured the angles and located the offender. It
was old Doctor Merrivale, hiding behind the curtains of his office,
plugging away with a Daisy air-rifle. They didn't denounce him
and he promised to stop. He was very prominent in the Masonic
Lodge.
Henri the painter kept his chair at Red Williams'
service station. He worked out every possible philosophic approach
to the situation and came to the conclusion that he would have
to build a platform at home and try it himself. Everyone in the
town was more or less affected by the skater. Trade fell off
out of sight of him and got better the nearer you came to Holman's.
Mack and the boys went up and looked for a moment and then went
back to the Palace. They couldn't see that it made much sense.
Holman's set up a double bed in their window. When
the skater broke the world's record he was going to come down
and sleep right in the window without taking off his skates.
The trade name of the mattress was on a little card at the foot
of the bed.
Now in the whole town there was interest and discussion
about this sporting event, but the most interesting question
of all and the one that bothered the whole town was never spoken
of. No one mentioned it, and yet it was there haunting everyone.
Mrs. Trolat wondered about it as she came out of the Scotch bakery
with a bag of sweet buns. Mr. Hall in men's furnishings wondered
about it. The three Willoughby girls giggled whenever they thought
of it. But no one had the courage to bring it into the open.
Richard Frost, a high-strung and brilliant young
man, worried about it more than anyone else. It haunted him.
Wednesday night he worried and Thursday night he fidgeted. Friday
night he got drunk and had a fight with his wife. She cried for
a while and then pretended to be asleep. She heard him slip from
bed and go into the kitchen. He was getting another drink. And
then she heard him dress quietly and go out. She cried some more
then. It was very late. Mrs. Frost was sure he was going down
to Dora's Bear Flag.
Richard walked sturdily down the hill through the
pines until he came to Lighthouse Avenue. He turned left and
went up toward Holman's. He had the bottle in his pocket and
just before he came to the store he took one more slug of it.
The street lights were turned down low. The town was deserted.
Not a soul moved. Richard stood in the middle of the street and
looked up.
Dimly on top of the high mast he could see the lonely
figure of the skater. He took another drink. He cupped his hand
and called huskily: "Hey!" There was no answer. "Hey!"
he called louder, and looked around to see if the cops had come
out of their place beside the bank.
Down from the sky came a surly reply: "What
do you want?"
Richard cupped his hands again. "How - how
do you - go to the toilet?"
"I've got a can up here," said the voice.
Richard turned and walked back the way he had come.
He walked along Lighthouse and up through the pines and he came
to his house and let himself in. As he undressed he knew his
wife was awake. She bubbled a little when she was asleep. He
got into bed and she made room for him.
"He's got a can up there," Richard said.
Chapter XIX of "Cannery
Row"
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