Audiobook - Adult - Michael Ingram

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
honor thy father by *** Talese Knowing that it's possible to see too much, most Dorman in New York have developed an extraordinary sense of selective vision. Although a doorman may disapprove of bribery and adultery, his back is invariably turned when the superintendent is handing money to the fire inspector, or when a tenant whose wife is away escorts a young woman into the elevator. Which is not to accuse the doorman of hypocrisy or cowardice, but merely to suggest that his instinct for UN involvement is very strong and to speculate that doorman have perhaps learned through experience that nothing is to be gained by serving as a material witness toe life's unseemly sites or to the madness of the city. This being done. It's not surprising that on the night when the Mafia chief, Joseph Banana, was grabbed by two gunmen in front of a luxury apartment house on Park Avenue near 36th Street, shortly after midnight on a rainy Tuesday in October, the doorman was standing in the lobby talking to the elevator man and saw nothing. It all happened with dramatic suddenness. Banana, returning from a restaurant, stepped out of a taxi cab behind his lawyer, William P. Maloney, who ran ahead through the rain towards the canopy. And then the gunman appeared from the darkness and began pulling banana by the arms towards an awaiting automobile. But Nano struggled to break free, but he could not. He glared at the men, seemingly enraged and stunned. Not since Prohibition had he been so abruptly handled, and then it had been by the police when he had refused to answer questions. Now he was being prodded by men from his own world, two burly men wearing black jackets and hats, both about six feet tall, one of whom said, Come on, Joe, my boss wants to see you, but I know. Ah, handsome, grey haired man of 59 said nothing. He had gone out this evening without bodyguards or a gun, and even if the avenue had been crowded with people, he wouldn't have called to them for help. Because he regarded this as a private affair. He tried to regain his composure. To think clearly is the men forced him along the sidewalk, his arms numb from the grip. He shivered from the cold, rain and wind, feeling it seeped through his gray silk suit and he could see nothing through the mist of Park Avenue except the tail lights of his taxi cab, disappearing uptown and get here nothing but the heavy breathing of the men as they dragged him forward. Then, suddenly from the rear, Banana heard the running footsteps and voice of Maloney shouting, Hey, what the **** is going on? One gunman world around, warning, quitted. Get back! Get out a here, Maloney replied, continuing to rush forward. Ah, white haired man of 60 waving his arms in the air. That's my client. Ah, bullet from an automatic was fired at Maloney's feet. The lawyers stopped, retreated, ducking finally into the entrance of his apartment building. The men shove banana into the back seat of a base, it and that had been parked on the corner of 36 Street. It's motor idling. Banana lay on the floor, as he had been told, and the car bolted towards Lexington Avenue. Then the doorman joined Maloney on the sidewalk, arriving too late to see anything, and later the doorman claimed he I had not heard a shot somewhere in the world by Stacy. Shoe it somewhere in the world, right Now it is deepest night. Fog hugs the shoulders of buildings and bridges. A baker slides long loaves of bread into an oven. Somewhere somebody watches a movie. A mouse hunts for crumbs somewhere else. In velvety darkness, elephants sleep standing up, swaying gently from side to side. Whales breach and dive into the sea. Seeing their low, sweet songs, Penguins press close to their chicks to keep them warm. Somewhere, the night win sighs and murmurs. The moon shines through a window, a little girl eyes dreaming of tomorrow but somewhere else. Right now, tomorrow is already here. Dawn is breaking a rooster. Crows and people are waking up somewhere. It's morning. Families eat breakfast. Kids get dressed for school. Farmers leave for the fields to tend their crops. Birds stretch their wings and sing. A boy hides a note for a friend to find, and people goto work. Stores open. Another day has begun, and somewhere right now, people buy food for their midday meal. A carpet of measures would. A dog runs off with his lunch in the late morning shade of baby kangaroo naps. A koala munches eucalyptus leaves somewhere in the world right now, fishing boats return with their catch. Seagulls swoop and dive and bicker over scraps. Somewhere, the afternoon sun gilds workers in the vineyards. Cows graze and rest in the grass, a girl, tens or horses and somewhere in the world. Right now the sun is setting. Monkeys screech from the trees as a jaguar glides through the jungle. Parrots mutter and chuckle. Shadows grow long and somewhere else. The sun has already slipped away, drawing evening down like a shade in the city, Signs flash on and off, often on trains wish through tunnels, taking people home somewhere. Suddenly, houses light up. Ah, girl and her brother race each other to the door. The day's work is done. A family sits down to supper and somewhere else, night has fallen. Clouds cushion the moon as it climbs across the sky. An alligator sleeps in an inky swamp beneath a tapestry of stars.