Read Online Nightwork by Irwin Shaw - Free Book Online Page B

passport?”
    “No.”
    “You’ve never been out of the country?” Hale sounded amazed. Everybody he knew was out of the country most of the time.
    “I’ve been in Canada,” I said. “That’s all. And you don’t need a passport for Canada.”
    “You said you were in New York,” Hale looked puzzled. “Why didn’t you get it there? Not that I’m not delighted you finally had an excuse to visit me,” he added hastily. “But all you had to do was go to the office on Fifth Avenue …”
    “I know,” I said. “I just didn’t feel like waiting. I’m in a hurry and I thought I’d come to the fountainhead, from which all good things flow.”
    “They are swamped there,” Hale said. “Where do you intend to go?”
    “I thought Europe, first. I came into a little dough and I thought maybe it was time I ought to get a dose of Old World culture. Those postcards you used to send me from Paris and Athens gave me the itch.” Deception, I found, was coming easily.
    “I think I can run the passport through for you in a day,” Hale said. “Just give me your birth certificate. …” He stopped when he saw the frown on my face. “Don’t you have it with you?”
    “I didn’t realize I needed it.”
    “You sure do,” Hale said. “Where were you born—Scranton, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    He made a face.
    “What’s the matter?” I asked.
    “Pennsylvania’s a bore,” he said. “All the birth certificates are kept in Harrisburg. The state capital. You’d have to write there. It’d take at least two weeks. If you’re lucky.”
    “Balls,” I said. I didn’t want to wait anywhere for two weeks.
    “Didn’t you get your birth certificate when you applied for your first driver’s license?”
    “Yes,” I said.
    “Where is it now? Have you any idea? Maybe somebody in your family? Stashed away in a trunk somewhere.”
    “My brother Henry still lives in Scranton,” I said. I remembered that after my mother died he had taken all the accumulated family junk, old report cards, my high school diploma, my degree from college, old snapshot albums and stored them in his attic. “He might have it.”
    “Why don’t you call him and have him look. If he finds it tell him to send it to you special delivery, registered.”
    “Even better,” I said. “I’ll go down there myself. I haven’t seen Henry for years and it’s time I put in an appearance, anyway.” I didn’t feel I had to explain to Hale that I preferred not to have Henry know where I was staying in Washington or anywhere else.
    “Let’s see,” Hale said. “This is Thursday. There’s a weekend coming up. Even if you find it, you couldn’t get back in time to do anything until Monday.”
    “That’s okay,” I said. “Europe’s waited this long, I guess it can wait another couple of days.”
    “You’ll need some photographs, too.”
    “I have them with me.” I fished the envelope out of a pocket.
    He slid one out of the envelope and studied it. “You still look as though you’re just about to graduate from high school.” He shook his head. “How do you manage it?”
    “A carefree life,” I said.
    “I’m glad to hear they’re still available,” Hale said. “When I look at pictures of myself these days, I seem to be old enough to be my own father. The magic of the cameraman’s art.” He put the photograph back in its envelope, as though the one glimpse of it would do him for a long, long time. “I’ll have the application ready for you to sign Monday morning. Just in case.”
    “I’ll be here.”
    “Why not come back and spend the weekend here?” Hale said. “Washington is at its best on the weekends. When government grinds to a halt. We have a poker game on Saturday night. You still play poker?”
    “A little.”
    “Good. One of our regulars is out of town and you can have his place. There’re a couple of eternal pigeons in the game who’ll donate their dough with pathetic generosity.” He smiled. He hadn’t