faces of the wrestlers.
The colonel was right. In his arena one could see both the good and the bad.
9. We Purchase an Automobile and Depart
ON THE way to Sing Sing and even before that, during lunch with Mr. Adams, we began urging him to join us in a great trip across America. Since we had no real arguments to offer, we repeated monotonously one and the same refrain:
“Come, come with us! It will be very interesting.”
We coaxed him just as a young man coaxes a young girl to love him. There is no reason for it, but he wants someone to fall in love with him, so he presses his suit.
Mr. Adams did not say anything to it. He looked as coy as a young girl and tried to change the subject.
Then we increased the pressure. We even thought up a torture to which we subjected this good-natured elderly gentleman throughout an entire week.
“Remember, Mr. Adams, that you will be responsible if we come to a bad end. We are likely to get lost in that country filled with gangsters, petrol pumps, and ham and eggs. We shall get lousy right before your eyes in this New York, and that will be the end of us.”
“No, no, gentlemen!” said Mr. Adams. “No! You mustn’t press me so hard. It is most inconsiderate of you. You don’t understand that, Mr. Ilf and Mr. Petrov!”
But we persisted, pitilessly egging our new friend on to the point of wavering, and then as soon as possible we would strike this fat iron, incased in a neat grey suit, while it was hot.
Mr. Adams and his wife belonged to that sort of loving couples who understand each other from the first glance.
In Mrs. Adams’s glance could be read:
“I know that you want very much to go. You are scarcely able to contain yourself from starting on a journey with the first people you meet. Such is your nature. It means nothing to you to abandon Baby and me. You are as curious as a little piccaninny, although you are already sixty-three years old. Just think of the number of times you have crossed America by automobile and by train! You know the country as well as you know your own apartment. But if you want to take another look at it, go ahead; I am ready to do anything for you. But one thing I cannot understand: which one of you will drive the car? However, do the best you can and don’t bother about me at all!”
“No, no, Becky!” One could read the response in Mr. Adams’s glance. “It would be unfair and presumptuous to think of me so harshly. I don’t want to go anywhere at all. I merely want to help these people. Besides, I would be lost without you. You had better go with us – that would be best. You are ever so much more curious than I. Everybody knows that. Come along. Incidentally, you will drive the car.”
“And the baby?” replied Mrs. Adams’s glance.
“Yes, yes! The baby! That’s terrible! I quite forgot!”
Whenever the wordless conversation reached that point, Mr. Adams turned toward us and exclaimed:
“No, no! “It is quite impossible!”
“Why impossible?” we asked plaintively. “Everything is possible. It will be so nice, so very nice. We’ll travel, stop to see places, stay in hotels.”
“Whoever heard of anybody stopping in hotels?” Mr. Adams suddenly cried out. “We will stop in tourist houses or in camps.”
“There! You see!” we caught him up. “You know everything! Come along with us! Please come with us! We beg you! Mrs. Adams, you come with us! Come with the whole family!”
“And the baby?” cried both parents.
We answered cavalierly:
“You can put the baby in a public nursery.”
“No, no, gentlemen! Oh, no! You forgot; there are no nurseries here. You are not in Moscow!”
That was right. We were not in Moscow. From the windows of the Adams apartment could be seen the denuded trees of Central Park and from the Zoological Garden came the hoarse cries of parrots in imitation of automobile horns.
“Then leave her with your friends,” we continued.
Husband and wife became thoughtful. At this point everything was spoiled by the baby herself entering the room in a night-suit with a Mickey Mouse embroidered on the chest. She came to say good-night before going to bed. With groans the parents ran to their little daughter. They embraced her, kissed her, and each time turned to us. Now you could read the same thing in the glances of both of them:
“What? To exchange this beautiful little daughter of ours for these two foreigners? Never!”
The appearance of the baby threw us back to where we had started. We had to begin all over again. So we launched new attacks.
“What a fine baby! How old is she? Is she really only two years old? Why, she looks as if she were eight! What an amazingly independent child! You should really give her more freedom! Don’t you think that the constant care of parents retards the development of a child?”
“Yes, yes, gentlemen!” said the happy father, pressing the child to his stomach. “You are only joking!”
When the child was put to bed we talked for about five minutes of [his and that, for the sake of appearances, and then we again began to press our suit.
We proposed a number of things about the baby, but not one of them was suitable. In utter despair we suddenly said, as if remarking, idly:
“Don’t you know some respectable lady who could live with the baby during our absence?”
There was, it seemed, such a lady. We began to develop the idea, when Mr. Adams rose suddenly. The lenses of his spectacles began to gleam. He grew serious.
“Gentlemen, we need two days to decide this question.”
For two days we wandered around New York, annoying each other with questions as to what might happen in case the Adamses refused to go on the journey with us. Where will we then find our ideal creature? And we spent a long time in front of stores that sold things for the road. Scotch cloth bags with zippers, rucksacks of sailcloth, soft leather suitcases, plaids, and thermos bottles – everything reminded one of a journey and lured one to start on it.
Exactly at the appointed hour, Mr. Adams appeared in our hotel room. He was unrecognizable. He was solemn and deliberate. All the buttons of his vest were buttoned. Thus the ambassador of a neighbouring friendly power comes to call on the minister of foreign affairs and declares that the government of his excellency considers itself now in a state of war with the power the representative of which is the above-mentioned minister of foreign affairs.
“Mr. Ilf and Mr. Petrov,” said the little fat man, puffing and wiping icy sweat off his bald head, “we have decided to accept your proposal.”
We wanted to embrace him, but he wouldn’t let us, saying:
“This is too serious an occasion, gentlemen. We cannot lose any more time. You must understand it.”
In the course of those two days Mr. Adams not only made up his mind and reached a decision, but he worked out our itinerary in detail. The itinerary made our heads go around.
At first we were to cross the long and narrow state of New York throughout its length, stopping in Schenectady, the city of the electric industry. The next important stop was to be Buffalo.
“It may seem too trivial to take a look at Niagara Falls, gentlemen, but it must be seen.”
Then, along the shore of Lake Erie, we were to proceed to Detroit. There we were to examine the Ford plants. Then on to Chicago. After that the road was to take us into Kansas City. Through Oklahoma we would drive into Texas. From Texas to Santa Fe in the state of New Mexico. Here we visit the Indian territory. Beyond Albuquerque we cross the Rocky Mountains and drive into the Grand Canyon. Then Las Vegas and the famous dam on the Colorado River, Boulder Dam. Then on to California after crossing the Sierra Nevada range. Coming back from the shores of the Pacific Ocean we return along the Mexican border through El