The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay Part 51

"I had a bottle of beer."

"You like to bake when you're drunk."

"Why is that?" She slid across the kitchen table the tumbled remains of the red velvet cake, with sea-foam frosting. "For some reason," she said, "I also seem to have felt compelled to eat most of it."

Sammy went to the kitchen drawer and got a fork. He wasn't in the least hungry as he sat down, but then he took a bite of the cake and, before he could stop himself, had finished what was left. The sea-foam crunched and melted in his teeth. Rosa got up and poured him a gla.s.s of milk, then stood behind him while he drank it, ruffling the hair at the back of his neck.

"You didn't say," Sammy said.

"I didn't say what?"

"What you you want me to do." want me to do."

He leaned back into her, his head against her belly. He was tired suddenly. He had planned to leave right away, to make his departure easier, but now he wondered if he shouldn't just wait until the morning.

"You know I want you to stay," she said. "I hope you know that. G.o.d d.a.m.n it, Sammy, I would love nothing more."

"To prove a point, is what you're saying."

"Yes."

"About how n.o.body can tell us how to live, and it takes all kinds, and mind your own d.a.m.n business. Like that."

She stopped stroking his hair. He guessed she had heard a certain amount of sarcasm in his tone, though he was not feeling at all sarcastic, and in fact, he admired her for what she was and had always been willing to do for his sake.

"It's just," he said, "I think I have another point I need to prove."

There was a cough, and they turned and saw Joe standing in the doorway, hair standing up all over his head, mouth open, trying to blink away something he did not want to see.

"Is he-you aren't leaving?'" leaving?'"

"For a while," Sammy said. "At least."

"Where are you going to go?"

"I was thinking Los Angeles."

"Sammy," Joe said, taking a step toward Sammy that had something menacing about it. "d.a.m.n it, you can't.'" can't.'"

Sammy drew back a little and raised his arm as if to ward off his old friend. "Take it easy, Joe. I appreciate the sentiment, but I-"

"It is not a sentiment, idiot. After I left you this morning, I went over there and made an offer for the Empire Comics. To buy it. And Sh.e.l.ly Anapol accepted."

"What? An offer? Joe, are you An offer? Joe, are you crazy?" crazy?"

"You said you had some ideas. ideas. You said I got you stirred up again." You said I got you stirred up again."

"Yeah, you did, but, I mean. Jesus, how could you just go and do that without asking me first?"

"It's my money," Joe said. "You have no say in the matter."

"Huh," Sammy said, and then again, "huh. Well." He stretched and yawned. "Maybe I could write the stories out there, and mail them to you. I don't know. We'll see. I'm too tired for this now, okay?"

"Well, you won't leave tonight, Sam, don't be crazy. It's too late. There isn't a train for you to leave with."

"Stay till the morning at least," Rosa said.

"I guess I could sleep on the couch," said Sammy.

Rosa and Joe looked at each other, startled, alarmed.

"Sammy, Joe and I aren't-this isn't because-we haven't been-"

"I know," Sammy said. "The couch is fine. You don't even need to change the sheets."

Rosa said that while Sammy might be fully prepared to embark on the life of a hobo, there was no way in h.e.l.l that he would begin his new career in her house. She went to the linen closet and brought fresh sheets and a pillowcase. She moved aside the neat pile of Joe's used linens and spread the new ones, tucking, and smoothing, and pulling back the blanket to expose the reverse of the floral flat sheet in a neat diagonal fold. Sammy stood over her, making a fuss over how appetizing it all looked after the day he'd had. When she let him sit down, he bounced on the cus.h.i.+on, slipped off his shoes, and then lay back with the happy sigh of an aching man sliding into a nice hot bath.

"This is feeling very strange to me," Rosa said. She was gripping the pillowcase filled with Joe's old sheets in one hand, like a sack, and dabbing at the tears in her eyes with the other.

"It's been strange all along," said Sammy.

She nodded. Then she handed the sack of dirty linens to Joe and started down the hall. Joe stood beside the couch for a moment, looking at Sammy with a perplexed expression, as if trying to work his way backward, one at a time, through the steps of the clever feat of subst.i.tution that Sammy had just pulled off.

When the household woke the next morning, quite early, the couch had been stripped, the sheets left folded on the coffee table with the pillow balanced on top, and Sammy and his suitcase were long gone. In lieu of a note or other farewell gesture, he had left only, in the center of the kitchen table, the small two-by-three card that he had been given back in 1948, when he had purchased the lot on which the house now stood. It was wrinkled and dog-eared and dyed by the stain of long years spent in Sammy's wallet. When Rosa and Joe picked it up they saw that Sammy had taken a pen and, bearing down, crossed out the name of the never-more-than-theoretical family that was printed above the address, and in its place written, sealed in a neat black rectangle, knotted by the stout cord of an ampersand, the words KAVALIER CLAY.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I am indebted to Will Eisner, to Stan Lee, and in particular to the late Gil Kane for sharing their reminiscences of the Golden Age, and also to d.i.c.k Ayers, Sheldon Moldoff, Martin "Green Lantern" Nodell, and to Marv Wolfman and Lauren Shuler Donner for providing introductions to some of those brilliant creators. Thanks also to Richard Bensam and Peter Wallace for their expert judgments. Roger Angell, Kenneth Turan, Cy Voris, Rosemary Graham, Louis B. Jones, Lee Skirboll, and the heroic Douglas Stumpf all kindly gave me the benefit of their generosity and intelligence by reading drafts or portions of this book along the way. I'm grateful as well to Eugene Feingold, Ricki Waldman, Kenneth Turan, and Robert Chabon for their memories of New York childhoods; to Russell Petrocelli, group rail-trip coordinator of N.J. Transit; and to the past and present members of the Kirby Mailing List (http://fantasty.com/ kirby-l).

I would like to thank the MacDowell Colony for providing the magical gifts of s.p.a.ce, time, and quiet, and the Lila Wallace-Reader's Digest Fund for its support.

The research for this novel was undertaken primarily at the Doheny Memorial Library at U.S.C., the U.C.L.A. College Library, the Bancroft Library at U.C. Berkeley, the McHenry Library at U.C. Santa Cruz, and the New-York Historical Society.

I have tried to respect history and geography wherever doing so served my purposes as a novelist, but wherever it did not I have, cheerfully or with regret, ignored them.

I have relied on the prior labor of many writers here, but above all on that of the collective authors of the 1959 W.P.A. New York City Guide New York City Guide (John Cheever and Richard Wright among them), and on the work of E. J. Kahn, Jr., Brendan Gill, E. B. White, A. J. Liebling, Joseph Mitch.e.l.l, St. Clair McKelway, and all the other great urban portraitists, many of them anonymous, who never failed me when I went searching for their lost city in dusty old bound back issues of (John Cheever and Richard Wright among them), and on the work of E. J. Kahn, Jr., Brendan Gill, E. B. White, A. J. Liebling, Joseph Mitch.e.l.l, St. Clair McKelway, and all the other great urban portraitists, many of them anonymous, who never failed me when I went searching for their lost city in dusty old bound back issues of The New Yorker. The New Yorker. Other helpful or indispensable books were: Other helpful or indispensable books were: Letters from Prague: 1939-1941, Letters from Prague: 1939-1941, compiled by Raya Czerner Schapiro and Helga Czerner Weinberg, compiled by Raya Czerner Schapiro and Helga Czerner Weinberg, The Nightmare of Reason, The Nightmare of Reason, by Ernst Pawel, and by Ernst Pawel, and Elder of the Jews, Elder of the Jews, by Ruth Bondy; by Ruth Bondy; The World Almanac and Book of Facts for 1941 The World Almanac and Book of Facts for 1941 edited by E. Eastman Irvine, edited by E. Eastman Irvine, No Ordinary Time, No Ordinary Time, by Doris Kearns Goodwin, by Doris Kearns Goodwin, The Glory and the Dream, The Glory and the Dream, by William Manchester, by William Manchester, The Lost World of the Fair, The Lost World of the Fair, by David Gelernter, and by David Gelernter, and Delivered from Evil, Delivered from Evil, by Robert Leckie; by Robert Leckie; The Secrets of Houdini, The Secrets of Houdini, by J. C. Cannell, by J. C. Cannell, Blackstone's Modern Card Tricks, Blackstone's Modern Card Tricks, by Harry Blackstone, by Harry Blackstone, Professional Magic Made Easy, Professional Magic Made Easy, by Bruce Elliott, by Bruce Elliott, Houdini on Magic, Houdini on Magic, by Harry Houdini, by Harry Houdini, Houdini: The Man Who Walked Through Walls, Houdini: The Man Who Walked Through Walls, by William Lindsay Gresham, and by William Lindsay Gresham, and Houdini!!!, Houdini!!!, by Kenneth Silverman; by Kenneth Silverman; Little America Little America and and Discovery, Discovery, both by Richard E. Byrd, both by Richard E. Byrd, A History of Antarctic Science, A History of Antarctic Science, by G. E. Fogg, by G. E. Fogg, The White Continent, The White Continent, by Thomas R. Henry, by Thomas R. Henry, Quest for a Continent, Quest for a Continent, by Walter Sullivan, and by Walter Sullivan, and Antarctic Night, Antarctic Night, by Jack Bursey; by Jack Bursey; New York Panorama, New York Panorama, by the Federal Writers' Project of the W.P.A., by the Federal Writers' Project of the W.P.A., The Empire State Building, The Empire State Building, by John Tauranac, by John Tauranac, The Gay Metropolis, 1940-1996, The Gay Metropolis, 1940-1996, by Charles Raiser, and by Charles Raiser, and The Encyclopedia of New York City, The Encyclopedia of New York City, edited by Kenneth T. Jackson; edited by Kenneth T. Jackson; The Great Comic Book Heroes, The Great Comic Book Heroes, by Jules Feiffer, by Jules Feiffer, All in Color for a Dime, All in Color for a Dime, by d.i.c.k Lupoff and Don Thompson, by d.i.c.k Lupoff and Don Thompson, The Great Comic Book Artists The Great Comic Book Artists and and Great History of Comic Books, Great History of Comic Books, both by Ron Goulart, both by Ron Goulart, Superhero Comics of the Golden Age: The Ill.u.s.trated History, Superhero Comics of the Golden Age: The Ill.u.s.trated History, by Mike Benton, by Mike Benton, The Art of the Comic Book, The Art of the Comic Book, by Robert C. Harvey, and by Robert C. Harvey, and The Comic Book Makers, The Comic Book Makers, by Joe Simon with Jim Simon; by Joe Simon with Jim Simon; On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism, by Gershom Scholem, and by Gershom Scholem, and Gates to the Old City, Gates to the Old City, by Raphael Patai; by Raphael Patai; The Big Broadcast, The Big Broadcast, by Frank Buxton and Bill Owen, by Frank Buxton and Bill Owen, Don't Touch That Dial, Don't Touch That Dial, by J. Fred MacDonald, and by J. Fred MacDonald, and The Book of Practical Radio, The Book of Practical Radio, by John Scott-Taggart; as well as the following sites on the World Wide Web: Michael Norwitz's by John Scott-Taggart; as well as the following sites on the World Wide Web: Michael Norwitz's Lev Gleason's Comic House Lev Gleason's Comic House (http://www.angelfire.com/ mn/blaklion/index.html), Bob Ring's (http://www.angelfire.com/ mn/blaklion/index.html), Bob Ring's Houdini Tribute Houdini Tribute (http://www. houdinitribute.com), and Peter Bacon Hales's (http://www. houdinitribute.com), and Peter Bacon Hales's Levittown: Doc.u.ments of an Ideal American Suburb Levittown: Doc.u.ments of an Ideal American Suburb (http://www.uic.edu/~pbhales/Levittown/ index.html). (http://www.uic.edu/~pbhales/Levittown/ index.html).

I have sought to meet the high standards of the amazing Mary Evans for nearly fifteen years, and only to the extent that it meets them can I be satisfied with this work. Kate Medina blessed this voyage when I had no more than a fict.i.tious map to steer by, and lashed me to the wheel when the seas turned rough. I am grateful to Scott Rudin, for his patience and faith, to Tanya McKinnon, Benjamin Dreyer, E. Beth Thomas, Meaghan Rady, Frankie Jones, Alexa Ca.s.sanos, and Paula Shuster. And, everlastingly, to Ayelet Waldman, for inspiring, nurturing, and ensuring, in a thousand ways, every single word of this novel, down to the very last period.

Finally, I want to acknowledge the deep debt I owe in this and everything else I've ever written to the work of the late Jack Kirby, the Ring of Comics.

[1][1] The still-fresh memory of Harry Houdini in the American mind thirteen years after his death-of his myth, his mysterious abilities, his physique, his feats, his dedicated hunting down and exposure of frauds and cheats - is a neglected source of the superhero idea in general; an argument in its favor, as it were. The still-fresh memory of Harry Houdini in the American mind thirteen years after his death-of his myth, his mysterious abilities, his physique, his feats, his dedicated hunting down and exposure of frauds and cheats - is a neglected source of the superhero idea in general; an argument in its favor, as it were.

[2][2] In 1998, the New York branch of Sotheby's offered a rare copy of In 1998, the New York branch of Sotheby's offered a rare copy of Amazing Midget Radio Comics Amazing Midget Radio Comics #1 in Very Good condition. The minimum bid was fixed at ten thousand dollars. Its staples were s.h.i.+ny, its corners sharp, its pages white as piano keys. The cover had a long transverse crease, but after more than half a century-three generations removed now from that jittery year in that brutal yet innocent city-the joy and rage incarnate in the knockout Kavalier punch still startled. It sold, after lively bidding, for $42,200. #1 in Very Good condition. The minimum bid was fixed at ten thousand dollars. Its staples were s.h.i.+ny, its corners sharp, its pages white as piano keys. The cover had a long transverse crease, but after more than half a century-three generations removed now from that jittery year in that brutal yet innocent city-the joy and rage incarnate in the knockout Kavalier punch still startled. It sold, after lively bidding, for $42,200.

[3][3] "Fighting Fascism in His Underwear," issue of August 17, 1940. "Fighting Fascism in His Underwear," issue of August 17, 1940.

[4][4] Frege, a socialist, an alpine skier, and, like Love, a Rhodes scholar (they had met at Trinity College), was stripped of his t.i.tle as German national downhill champion and sentenced to Dachau for "soliciting an act of depravity" in the Munich Frege, a socialist, an alpine skier, and, like Love, a Rhodes scholar (they had met at Trinity College), was stripped of his t.i.tle as German national downhill champion and sentenced to Dachau for "soliciting an act of depravity" in the Munich Bahnhof. Bahnhof.

[5][5] This legendary library of self-mortification was lost, and widely considered apocryphal, until 1993, when one of its volumes, This legendary library of self-mortification was lost, and widely considered apocryphal, until 1993, when one of its volumes, Racy Attorney Racy Attorney #23, turned up at an IKEA store in Elizabeth, New Jersey, where it was mutely serving as a dignified-looking stage property on a floor-model "Hjorp" wall unit. It is signed by the author and bears the probably spurious but fascinating inscription #23, turned up at an IKEA store in Elizabeth, New Jersey, where it was mutely serving as a dignified-looking stage property on a floor-model "Hjorp" wall unit. It is signed by the author and bears the probably spurious but fascinating inscription To my pal d.i.c.k Nixon. To my pal d.i.c.k Nixon.

[6][6] Two weeks after Kahn's piece appeared in Two weeks after Kahn's piece appeared in The New Yorker, The New Yorker, giving some particulars of Josef Kavalier and of his family's plight, Kahn forwarded to Joe a check for twelve dollars, one for ten, and a letter from a Mrs. F. Bernhard of East Ninety-sixth Street, offering to feed him a home-cooked meal of schnitzel and knodelen. It is probable that Joe never took her up on the offer. Records indicate, however, that the checks were cashed. giving some particulars of Josef Kavalier and of his family's plight, Kahn forwarded to Joe a check for twelve dollars, one for ten, and a letter from a Mrs. F. Bernhard of East Ninety-sixth Street, offering to feed him a home-cooked meal of schnitzel and knodelen. It is probable that Joe never took her up on the offer. Records indicate, however, that the checks were cashed.

[7][7] It was probably just as well. The man was Max Ernst, not merely an artist whose work Joe admired but a committed anti-fascist, public enemy of the n.a.z.is, and fellow exile. It was probably just as well. The man was Max Ernst, not merely an artist whose work Joe admired but a committed anti-fascist, public enemy of the n.a.z.is, and fellow exile.

[8][8] Radio, All Doll, Radio, All Doll, and and Freedom. Freedom.

[9][9] The Freedoms, whose sales, during the war years, came to rival those of the Escapist himself, were four teenage boys, Kid Einstein, Knuckleduster (known affectionately as "Knuck") O'Toole, Tommy Gunn, and Mumbles, a reformed gang of "Dead-End Hooligans" who had abandoned street fighting and pinked derbies in favor of the Axis menace and matching suits of tricolor long underwear. The Freedoms, whose sales, during the war years, came to rival those of the Escapist himself, were four teenage boys, Kid Einstein, Knuckleduster (known affectionately as "Knuck") O'Toole, Tommy Gunn, and Mumbles, a reformed gang of "Dead-End Hooligans" who had abandoned street fighting and pinked derbies in favor of the Axis menace and matching suits of tricolor long underwear.

[10][10] Thirty years later, when this work was first reprinted, Thirty years later, when this work was first reprinted, The Weird Worlds of Luna Moth The Weird Worlds of Luna Moth (Nostalgia Press, 1970; second edition, Pure Imagination, 1996) quickly became a head-shop bestseller. (Nostalgia Press, 1970; second edition, Pure Imagination, 1996) quickly became a head-shop bestseller.

[11][11] Lost. Lost.

[12][12] Gargantua and Pantagruel, Gargantua and Pantagruel, and possibly and possibly Vathek. Vathek.

[13][13] Sammy liked to tell a story about a hungry young artist named Roy Lichtenstein who had once wandered into his office at Pharaoh looking for a job. There is no evidence, however, that the story is true. Sammy liked to tell a story about a hungry young artist named Roy Lichtenstein who had once wandered into his office at Pharaoh looking for a job. There is no evidence, however, that the story is true.

[14][14] The Paris Bridge-Leap of 1921: A Memoir of Hardeen, The Paris Bridge-Leap of 1921: A Memoir of Hardeen, New York; privately printed, 1935. Now in the collection of Prof. Kenneth Silverman. New York; privately printed, 1935. Now in the collection of Prof. Kenneth Silverman.

[15][15] Les Organes du Facteur moved to Fifty-seventh Street after the war, three doors down from Carnegie Hall, an inexorable journey uptown and into cultural irrelevance in the last moments before Surrealism was overwhelmed by the surging tribes of Action, Beat, and Pop. Les Organes du Facteur moved to Fifty-seventh Street after the war, three doors down from Carnegie Hall, an inexorable journey uptown and into cultural irrelevance in the last moments before Surrealism was overwhelmed by the surging tribes of Action, Beat, and Pop.

[16][16] In his excellent In his excellent The Art of the Comic Book: An Aesthetic History. The Art of the Comic Book: An Aesthetic History.

[17][17] Among some dozen she is believed to have employed over the years. Among some dozen she is believed to have employed over the years.

[18][18] "A person of unprecedented physical prowess dedicated to acts of derring-do in the public interest." "A person of unprecedented physical prowess dedicated to acts of derring-do in the public interest."

[19][19] The Escapist, The Escapist, starring a young Peter Graves in the t.i.tle role, 1951-53. starring a young Peter Graves in the t.i.tle role, 1951-53.

[20][20] At this time in the history of comic books, it was a mark of only the most successful heroes that they had a secret lair. Superman had his Fortress of Solitude, Batman his Batcave, the Blackhawks their windswept Blackhawk Island, and the Escapist his posh digs under the boards of the Empire Palace. These redoubts would be depicted, from time to time, in panels mat showed detailed cutaway diagrams of the secret lair, each 3-D Televisor Screen, Retractable Helipad, Trophy Room, and Rogue's Gallery carefully labeled with arrows. Only one of these cross-section plans was ever published for the Keyhole, a special two-page drawing in the centerfold of At this time in the history of comic books, it was a mark of only the most successful heroes that they had a secret lair. Superman had his Fortress of Solitude, Batman his Batcave, the Blackhawks their windswept Blackhawk Island, and the Escapist his posh digs under the boards of the Empire Palace. These redoubts would be depicted, from time to time, in panels mat showed detailed cutaway diagrams of the secret lair, each 3-D Televisor Screen, Retractable Helipad, Trophy Room, and Rogue's Gallery carefully labeled with arrows. Only one of these cross-section plans was ever published for the Keyhole, a special two-page drawing in the centerfold of Escapist Adventures Escapist Adventures #46. #46.