All My Friends Are Going to Be Strangers: A Novel (7 page)

“You write, or something?” one asked. Her name was Sybil. She had red hair, protruding teeth, and two large jewels.

“Yes ma’am,” I said.

“Do you write with a pencil or a fountain pen?” the fat one asked, handing Razzy her glass.

“On a typewriter.”

“Oh, like a journalist,” she said, reaching for the fresh drink Razzy had instantly provided.

“I’ve read one or two of Daniel’s effusions,” Razzy said. “He’s far from being a master of English syntax.”

“I can’t read the young,” the fat one said. Her name was Lorena.

“Why not?” I asked. I was feeling a great dislike of them all. Beyond us, Godwin tiptoed out in a blue bathing suit and snuck into the pool. He went right under water, like a frogman in some kind of spy movie.

“Oh, there’s such a crudity of sentiment in the young,” Lorena said. “They’ve known no heartbreak.”

“Precisely,” Razzy said.

The skinniest of the Lesbians maintained a total and very sinister silence. She had straight black hair.

“You look like a workman,” Sybil said. “Are you salaried?” “I’m just a student,” I said. “I work on weekends for a termite exterminator. It’s simple work.”

“Do you like Lawrence?” Lorena asked. “I knew Lawrence. I know Frieda. I knew Mabel Dodge Luhan. Dorothy Brett is a good friend of mine.”

“I like him a lot,” I said.

“He was a silly ass,” Razzy said. “He’s the best argument
I know against educating the working classes. He should have been kept in the mines.”

Lorena was drunker than she looked. “I once measured the penis of Tony Luhan’s brother,” she said.

We all looked blasé. So far as I could tell, Godwin had never come up. I was vaguely worried about him.

“I can’t remember how long it was,” Lorena said. “It was at a party in Taos. We measured the penises of all the men. His was much the longest. I remember that much.”

Godwin finally surfaced, in the vicinity of where Sally was floating, and all three women turned and went to the edge of the pool. I don’t know what they had against him. They stared at him. Sally swam over to the edge of the pool and got out and began to sun herself in what little was left of the sun. Godwin looked forlorn, treading water all by himself. I was through with my second drink. I got a third and sat down by the pool. Godwin had begun to swim laps. He was not in very good shape. Once he paused near where I was sitting. “In my youth I trained to swim the Channel,” he said.

Soon he swam away. I didn’t feel like swimming. I became drunk. Razzy put a Fats Domino record on the phonograph. He must have asked Sally to dance, because I noticed them dancing. The Lesbians were chain-smoking as they watched. No one else had come to the party. Godwin looked waterlogged, but he kept swimming, doggedly. Sally danced in her red bikini. It grew dark as I drank, as Godwin swam, as Sally danced. Razzy Hutton was apparently only jointed at the hips. He never bent his arms or legs. When I was drunk I decided that if he insulted me once more I would hit him. I never wanted to be at a place where he was again, even if it meant leaving Rice with no degree. He kept playing Fats Domino records. I went over and
stood by the phonograph. After a while he came over to change the record.

“An extraordinary nigger,” Razzy said. “A primitive genius.”

“I don’t ever want to be a master of English syntax, Dr. Hutton,” I said.

“Well, you bloody well aren’t,” he said. “You don’t hold liquor well, either. Watch you don’t bump the phonograph.”

“I’d rather you didn’t dance with my wife,” I said.

Razzy looked amused. He walked back to Sally and I followed him.

“You’re a beautiful child,” Sybil was saying.

Sally shrugged and walked over to watch Godwin swim. It was hard to tell whether he was swimming or drowning. I could tell that Sally was bored with things. “You have interesting parties, Razzy,” Lorena said thickly. She was as drunk as I was.

“Someone ought to propose a toast,” Sybil said. “We’ve had no toasts tonight.”

I felt giddy and strange. Razzy was insulting me silently, somehow. I had a sense of fat being in the fire, of bridges about to be burned. Sally was trying to drag Godwin out of the swimming pool.

“I think our young author should propose one,” Razzy said, deftly putting me on the spot.

But I felt reckless, the way I had when I shot the squirrel out of Jenny Salomea’s tree.

“To the penis of Tony Luhan,” I said. “However long it was. Or was it his brother’s?” I added, remembering the story better.

“You crude little beast,” the sinister black-haired one said. Lorena slapped me and almost knocked me down. I wasn’t standing very steadily. Sally started laughing, I think at Godwin—he was beached like a small dying whale on the
poolside. Razzy stood before me ramrod straight. All he needed was a monocle.

“We might excuse your odor,” he said, “but your conduct is quite unforgivable. Leave this company at once!”

I punched him in the stomach. He took three steps backward, gasping. His mouth was open—I think it was the first time he’d opened it wide enough for me to see his teeth. It wasn’t as hard a punch as I meant it to be. I don’t know how to punch. I think it was the insult that left him breathless.

“You’ll never—” he croaked. “You’ll never—”

“You’ll never get your octopus back, either!” I yelled. “It’s a wonderful pet. I confess my theft!”

“He’s always stealing,” Godwin said, staggering into our midst. “Who’s he stealing now? What’s wrong Razzy? You look like you swallowed an ice cube.”

“I hit him,” I said. “I also stole his octopus. A specialist in protozoa doesn’t need an octopus. We play sex games with it. It’s our bed toy.”

Sally walked past us and went in to get dressed. She didn’t take the scene seriously. The Lesbians decided to mother Razzy. While they were fanning him back to health Godwin took me aside.

“I’m leaving with you,” he said. “You came under my auspices. They’ll all blame me for your behavior. I admire you. I’ve wanted to hit that fucker for years. I’ll buy you and your lovely wife the best dinner in Houston. My wedding gift to the two of you.”

“Maybe in a minute,” I said. I expected Razzy to attack me as soon as he recovered himself. I was wrong, however. He strode into his apartment without saying a word. Perhaps he had decided not to soil his hands with me. Or perhaps he had gone to look for the sword-cane I imagined him having. He might emerge and run me through. Godwin
went in to dress. Recklessly I walked over to the Lesbians. They looked sullen. We stared at one another. It was another war of nerves.

“Who do you read?” I asked, addressing myself to Lorena.

“You’re looking to get slugged again, kiddo,” she said.

“No ma’am,” I said. “I just wondered who you read.”

“The masters,” she said huskily. “Gide. Mann. Colette.”

“I was just curious,” I said.

The sinister one stepped forward, her hot little eyes shining with hatred.

“I have powers,” she said. “I now put a curse upon you. Your keys will no longer fit in locks. No door you really wish to enter will open for you again. From now on you will be thirsty. Water will stop running from your faucets. No one will give you presents. People will not like your clothes. Your stomach will be unsettled and you will belch all day. There will be sand in your beds. You will be constipated often. Those whom you remember will not remember you. You will have a rash between your legs.”

The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. I had never had a curse put on me before. She was matter-of-fact about it, and very convincing.

“Soon a pane of glass will drop between you and your wife,” she said. “You will be able to see her, you will be able to hear her, you will be able to want her, but the pane of glass will always separate you. You will not be able to touch her. The pane of glass will enclose you like a cylinder, separating you from all women. You will want many women, but nothing will ever shatter the pane of glass.”

She stopped talking and stepped back to light a cigarette. No wonder Godwin was afraid of them. I turned and went right in to find Sally. She was letting Razzy Hutton help her zip her dress. I don’t know why she needed help. It upset me badly.

Godwin came out of the bathroom with his shirt unbuttoned. He had a coat and tie in his hand. “Danny and Sally are dining with me,” he said to Razzy. “You must make our apologies to the company.”

Razzy merely smiled. He had become inscrutable. I was thinking of hitting him again, but Godwin gave me no chance. He whisked us out and half an hour later we were drinking champagne at an intimidating French restaurant. It didn’t intimidate Godwin, of course. He spoke French fluently, and probably well. After the champagne we had a rack of lamb and three bottles of a wonderful red wine. I was far too drunk to talk. Even Sally was drunk—the color in her cheeks was almost as deep as the color of the wine. I remembered, in my drunkenness, that a bridge had been burned. I didn’t want to stay at Rice. I wanted to leave Houston, and the sooner the better. I didn’t want dawn to find me in the city. The one thing I knew clearly was that life had changed, and we were leaving as soon as we finished dinner.

“We have to be gone by morning,” I kept saying as I ate the excellent food and drank the wine.

Sally got bored with hearing me. “Quit saying that,” she said. “Nobody’s arguing. I’m bored with this place, too.”

Godwin squinted at his wine glass. “I can’t forget those women,” he said. “Hideous women.”

“They acted like dykes,” Sally said cheerfully. Eating made her look happy. She was oblivious of the fact that the juicy slice of lamb she was eating had once been a live sheep.

“It isn’t because of Razzy,” I said. It really wasn’t, but I was too drunk to try to explain why I wanted to leave. I had been there for three years and had made myself a place and suddenly I didn’t fit it anymore. All the furniture of my life had been changed around. Sally was there, the apartment
was too small, I couldn’t see much of the Hortons, I had sold my novel, I didn’t want to study anymore, Jenny wanted me, Godwin was around—it was all too much. Without wanting it to happen, I had let myself be dislodged. Dislodged was exactly how I felt.

It was an enormous restaurant bill, but Godwin paid it with a smile. I remember his smile as he paid it. When I’m drunk, things swirl. Once in a while they stop and I notice something before the next swirl begins. I have the ability to drive when drunk, but once I stop driving I have no ability at all. I drove us home and went to the John and puked. When I came out of the John I noticed that Godwin and Sally were sitting on the bed necking. I yanked Sally up and hit Godwin. He hit me back. It was much too small a place to fight in. Godwin went into one of his purple rages.

“I’ll have my revenge,” he said. He picked up my typewriter and went into the bathroom with it.

“Why were you kissing him?” I asked Sally. I had forgotten Godwin. “Why were you kissing him?”

“He just wanted to,” she said, making a face at me. She was very irritated.

There was a screech from Godwin. We went to see. He had put my typewriter in the bathtub, meaning to run water over it, and had started the shower instead. Naturally he had scalded himself.

“Very well then, if I’m not wanted I’ll sleep in your car,” he said. He was drunk but dignified and his suit was wet. He went off to sleep in the car.

“You could be a little nicer to him,” Sally said.

“I hate your red bikini,” I said. “I knew it would make trouble.”

I started packing my things and she started packing her things. It sobered us a little. Sally began looking through one of her high school yearbooks. Fortunately we had few
clothes. Mr. Fitzherbert came driving in as we were packing, and I went out to tell him I was leaving. He was standing in the driveway in a rumpled business suit, looking at Godwin’s feet, which stuck out of the back window of my Chevy.

“Aw no,” he said unhappily when I told him. He shook his head. “You’re not really going, are you? Momma’s gonna skin me alive when she hears I let you get away. You’re the only good renter we ever had.”

For once he was not very drunk. “Now how am I gonna tell Momma about this?” he asked sadly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I asked him to give whatever we left to the Salvation Army, and he said he would.

“Maybe I’ll tell her your folks needed you to help ’em with the place,” he said worriedly. “Otherwise she’ll think I scared you off with my drinking. That ain’t it, is it?”

“No sir,” I said. “I drink too.”

“Son, don’t get in the habit,” he said. “Take care of your body, whatever you do.”

He was about fifty-five years old. We shook hands and he went in. He was a decent man. I felt choked up. I liked Mr. Fitzherbert. I liked my apartment. I liked the table where my typewriter sat. It was only an ordinary brown table, but it was just the right height. I enjoyed sitting at it and writing every morning, through the years. I even liked the smell of the damp floor mats. The apartment and I had seemed to belong together, from the first, but I’m that way about all the places I stay. Without meaning to, I begin to love them, and then I sort of adhere to them, physically. Leaving is like tearing off skin—also it jumbled my insides. I felt like feeling snug, and I no longer felt snug. I couldn’t remember why I had decided to leave, but we were already half-packed. We didn’t own very much. Sally had gone to sleep on the floor, reading her annual. I wrapped my typewriter
in a quilt and put it in the trunk of the car. If Godwin hadn’t been in the back seat I might have fitted the table in, but I didn’t feel up to dragging him out.

I put a pillow under Sally’s head and managed to make all my paperbacks fit neatly into two boxes. There were fourteen library books that had to be taken back. I took off my party clothes and put on my Levi’s and sneakers and went over to the library to return the books. It was about two o’clock in the morning and the man with the golf ball wasn’t in the parking lot.

Petey Ximenes was waxing the main reference room, under the watchful eye of the two white supervisors. He looked sulky and his ducktail was unkempt. On the fifth floor he could wax at his own pace, but apparently someone had decided his pace wasn’t fast enough. They brought him down where they could watch him. I had never seen him in such a foul humor—I think he was contemplating charging the two men with his waxer. I told him I was leaving, but I don’t think my words registered. He shook my hand absently when I told him goodbye. He didn’t even look at me. I couldn’t find Henry, so I left my library key on the circulation desk.