RHAPSODY IN BLUE

ACT 4: VERSES AND OBLIGATIONS

Harry came out of his room, his eyes narrowed sleepily, his hair standing in all directions. She smiled, thinking he looked adorable.

"Mornin'" he said smiling back. 

He went to the bathroom to take another quick shower, brush his teeth and shave. That done, he dressed in his room, his usual clean starched easy suit and matching hat. And of course, his shoulder holster and piece. 

When he reappeared in the living room, Eva took her opportunity.

"Harry, I really need a favor..." 

He shook his head, putting up his hand.

"I know you left your keys at work.  You can stay here for the weekend, if you like. Get your keys on Monday. I'll put out a few things you can wear. Men's clothes, yeah, but you could wear my suspenders. I bet you'd look cute in them."

"Sure." 

She patted her hair self-consciously, hoping she hadn't slept in a way that made her hair look wonky.

"...And shoes!" he said, snapping his fingers.

"Listen, I don't expect anything from you. This is far too much." she said shaking her head.

"But you need something to wear. See'n as you may not want to be seen shopping in men's clothes. Don'tcha worry...I've got you covered."

"But-" 

"Seriously, Eva let me do this. I wanna do something nice for you.  After what you just went through... I can do this, I want to do this.  You need this.  Let me." he said, his eyes level with her own.

Truthfully, being a hood, he could have easily broken into her place using any number of tricks. Good thing the town locksmith was on vacation.

"I'll be back shortly...There's a radio over there and my bookcase is in that corner."

"But you don't know my size."

"–I'm good at guessing." he said smiling as his eyes flitted over her frame.

"Be good." 

He tipped his hat. He closed the door behind him and locked it.

She stood up and snapped on the dial the radio. A big band was playing Take the 'A' Train.  She bopped into the bathroom. It was a relief to wash herself after last night's close call.

Freshly scrubbed, she poured a little of Harry's mouthwash into a cup and swished it around her mouth a few times.

She put on the pants he had laid out for her, and rolled them at the waist so they wouldn't drag on the floor. Harry was much taller than her.  The shirt, she buttoned and rolled the sleeves.

Washed and comfortably dressed, she set about the apartment trying to find clues to who Harry was.

No family pictures...

A spider plant hanging in a corner by the window.   And his bookcase...Surprise, surprise, filled with classics, Moby Dick, Beowulf, Kubla Kahn, The Waste Lands, and whatdaya' know? The Souls of Black Folk. And lots of Twain and Hemingway.

She picked up T.S. Elliot and began reading Sweeney Among the Nightingales.

She closed it and replaced it and strode towards his room.

She gently pushed open the door and found his bed, neat as a pin, made military style, a solitary lamp and painting just opposite his bed. It was the first and only piece of art she'd seen in his apartment.