Read Online A Commodore of Errors by John Jacobson - Free Book Online Page A

air as he went at Mitzi like some kind of Oklahoma oil derrick. “Get ready for Mogie. Here he comes, baby. Here comes Mogie.”
    Mitzi’s screams melded perfectly with the Martinizing machine, and as the machine wound down, so did Mitzi’s screams. They both ended simultaneously with a thud. Mogie took his stool back to the bedroom and placed it under the bed—he liked knowing exactly where it was at all times. When he came back into the other room, Mitzi was getting dressed. “We gotta get down the fire escape before Putzie hears us up here,” Mitzi said.
    When they got to ground level, they went their separate ways, Mitzi to her car that she had parked in the alleyway, and Mogie to his car parked on Middle Neck Road. He normally parked his car to the south of the dry cleaners so that he wouldn’t have to walk in front of the store and risk running into Putzie. Today, though, he couldn’t find a spot south of the store, so he parked directlyin front. Mogie ran to his car and jumped in just as the Commodore pulled up to the dry cleaners.

    The Commodore watched Mogie come out of the alley and give a furtive look in both directions before running to his car. Why would Mogie be coming out of the alley like that?
    The Commodore entered the dry cleaners. Today he did not sit down with Raymond in the front of the store like he usually did. Today he stood up and paced behind the curtain. “I want to be admiral so bad, Raymond, I can taste it. Now this monster Mogelefsky is standing in my way. After everything I’ve done for the academy, after all the years and years of sacrifice and selflessness, putting others first, never thinking of myself—I never think of myself, you know that. Why is this happening to me?”
    â€œMr. Commodore,” Raymond said, “everything’ll work out. You’ll see.”
    â€œHow is it going to work out? Mogie wants a Jew for an admiral. I’m not Jewish.”
    â€œBut things always have a way of working out, you’ll—”
    â€œRaymond, are you listening to me! Have you no empathy, not to mention manners? Look at what I’m going through. Between this and being questioned by the police—”
    â€œWhat police?”
    The Commodore erupted. “Mind your own business, young man!”
    The Commodore sat down and put his face in his hands. After several minutes, he looked over at Raymond. He could tell that his outburst hurt the young man’s feelings, but surely Raymond understood that he was wrong. He needed to learn to be a better listener. The Commodore was about to apologize, but then didn’t. What would be the point?
    â€œI just saw Mogie coming out of the alleyway next door,” the Commodore said. “What business does he have around here?”
    â€œBeats me.”
    â€œCould it be that he’s liaising with Mitzi in the apartment upstairs?”
    â€œHow would I know? I’m busy Martinizing all day.”
    â€œImagine that,” the Commodore said. “To liaise with a man’s wife directly over the man’s head.”
    â€œThe Martinizing machines are really loud. Mogie and Mitzi could be up there and Putzie would never hear them.”
    Just then the Commodore and Raymond heard Putzie waking up from his nap. Raymond went behind the counter and retrieved the Commodore’s crisp shirts. When Putzie walked into the front of the store, he gave the Commodore a grumpy hello.
    â€œDid you have a nice nap, Mr. Paultz?” the Commodore said.
    â€œI always do.”
    â€œI’m no good at naps.”
    Putzie, who had not missed a nap in twenty years, said, “Habits, Commodore. It’s all about habits.”
    â€œI see.” The Commodore glanced toward the apartment above, winked at Raymond, and left the store without another word.

SHORT AND INADEQUATE

    T he next day, Putzie strayed from his habits and shut down the Martinizing machines five