Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr (10 page)

BOOK: Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr
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Of course Tommy didnt drink much. I mean, not because
he got married. That didnt make any difference now. He just never
drank much. A couple a beers now and then was about all. Ya know. But
he was sorta ballin. For Tommy anyway. The oldlady almost put a drag
on the party by diggin up a record with some dame singin Because, and
then she goes stag-gerin over ta Suzy and starts huggin and kissener
and Suzys tryin ta stuff a salami sandwich in her mouth and she cant
chew because the oldladys all overer. But Roberta really broke usup.
She was standin in a comer makin like she was singin and man, it was
a gas. You know, flutterin her eyelids (she had that shiny Stardust
stuff glued to her eyelids) and doin a few bumps and grinds and that
sorta stuff. But the oldlady didnt seeer ( I dont think she could see
much by that time) and she wanted to dance with Suzy and starts
waltzin around, stumblin all over and Suzy still holdin that salami
sandwich, but the record ended and Roberta threw a Dinah Washington
side on real quick and Suzy got ridda the oldlady and we all started
ballin again. Pretty soon the oldlady passed out and they stretched
her out on a cot in the back and we ended up in a corner jumpin with
the music and doin some real juicin and even Spook was a litde high.
Tony got real stoned and goosed some dame and there was a bit of
rumble with her husband, but it didnt amount ta much so we just
pushed Tony in the corner and letim sleep. Of course a few of the old
Irishmen started throwin blows at each other, but they didnt do any
real damage and as long as they didnt get too close ta the bar they
letim fight until they passed out.

But Spook couldnt sit still for long. He wanted ta go
ridin. Everybody toldim ta go, but he didnt want ta go alone and
everybody, but Tommy, was too stoned ta ride a goddamn bike. So Suzy
tells Tommy ta go. Whatthehell. Cant do anythin tonite anyway. You
know, too soon. And she figured shed look around for the kid and
takeim home and go ta bed. She said her ass was draggin anyway. It
was only two weeks or so since she had the kid. And it was a pretty
good size one. Eight pounds somethin. I dont know exactly, but
somethin like that. She said it was like shittin a watermelon. Havin
a kid. So she hunted around and found the kid and cutout. So Tommy
figured hed take a spin with Spook. It was a real nice nite. Just
right for ridin. And probably be in the house all day tomorra fixin
things. You know, puttin this here and that there and takin care of
the kid and that kinda stuff. So when Roberta sees Tommy gettin ready
ta cut she comes hustlin over and starts cooin at Tommy ta takeer for
a ride, shes feelin so depressed watchin somebody else with a baby
and gettin ready for a honeymoon, and she flutters her lids and
everybody cracks-up, so Tommy laughs and says OK and Roberta giggles
and waves bye bye and Spook is halfway down the stairs his hat all
tied under his chin and they cut.

Of course we stayed until they kicked us out the next
morning. I mean, whatthe-hell. The oldman paid good money for the
joint and everything. No sense in lettin it go ta waste.
 

Part IV

Tralala

I will rise now, and go about the
city in the
streets, and in the broad
ways I will
seek him whom my soul
loveth: I sought
him, but I found him
not.

The watchmen that go about the city
found me: to whom I said, Saw ye him
whom my soul loveth?        
Song of Solomon 3: 2, 3

TRALALA was 15 the first time she was laid. There was
no real passion. Just diversion. She hungout in the Greeks with the
other neighborhood kids. Nothin to do. Sit and talk. Listen to the
jukebox. Drink coffee. Bum cigarettes. Everything a drag. She said
yes. In the park. 3 or 4 couples finding their own tree and grass.
Actually she didnt say yes. She said nothing. Tony or Vinnie or
whoever it was just continued. They all met later at the exit. They
grinned at each other. The guys felt real sharp. The girls walked in
front and talked about it. They giggled and alluded. Tralala shrugged
her shoulders. Getting laid was getting laid. Why all the bullshit?
She went to the park often. She always had her pick. The other girls
were as willing, but played games. They liked to tease. And giggle.
Tralala didn't fuckaround. Nobody likes a cockteaser. Either you put
out or you dont. Thats all. And she had big tits. She was built like
a woman. Not like some kid. They preferred her. And even before the
first summer was over she played games. Different ones though. She
didnt tease the guys. No sense in that. No money either. Some of the
girls bugged her and she broke their balls. If a girl liked one of
the guys or tried to get him for any reason Tralala cut in. For
kicks. The girls hated her. So what. Who needs them. The guys had
what she wanted. Especially when they lushed a drunk. Or pulled a
job. She always got something out of it. Theyd take her to the
movies. Buy cigarettes. Go to a PIZZERIA for a pie. There was no end
of drunks. Everybody had money during the war. The waterfront was
filled with drunken seamen. And of course the base was filled with
doggies. And they were always good for a few bucks at least.
Sometimes more. And Tralala always got her share. No tricks. All very
simple. The guys had a ball and she got a few bucks. If there was no
room to go to there was always the Wolffe Building cellar. Miles and
miles of cellar. One screwed and the others played chick. Sometimes
for hours. But she got what she wanted. All she had to do was putout.
It was kicks too. Sometimes. If not, so what? It made no difference.
Lay on your back. Or bend over a garbage can. Better than working.
And its kicks. For a while anyway. But time always passes. They grew
older. Werent satisfied with the few bucks they got from drunks. Why
wait for a drunk to passout. After theyve spent most of their loot.
Drop them on their way back to the Armybase. Every night dozens left
Willies, a bar across the street from the Greeks. Theyd get them on
their way back to the base or the docks. They usually let the doggies
go. They didnt have too much. But the seamen were usually loaded. If
they were too big or too sober theyd hit them over the head with a
brick. If they looked easy one would hold him and the other(s) would
lump him. A few times they got one in the lot on 57th street. That
was a ball. It was real dark back by the fence. Theyd hit him until
their arms were tired. Good kicks. Then a pie and beer. And Tralala.
She was always there. As more time passed they acquired valuable
experience. They were more selective. And stronger. They didn't need
bricks anymore. Theyd make the rounds of the bars and spot some guy
with a roll. When he left theyd lush him. Sometimes Tralala would set
him up. Walk him to a doorway. Sometimes through the lot. It worked
beautifully. They all had new clothes. Tralala dressed well. She wore
a clean sweater every few days. They had no trouble. Just stick to
the seamen. They come and go and who knows the difference. Who gives
a shit. They have more than they need anyway. And whats a few lumps.
They might get killed so whats the difference. They stayed away from
doggies. Usually. They played it smart and nobody bothered them. But
Tralala wanted more than the small share she was getting. It was
about time she got something on her own. If she was going to get laid
by a couple of guys for a few bucks she figured it would be smarter
to get laid by one guy and get it all. All the drunks gave her the
eye. And stared at her tits. It would be a slope-out. Just be sure to
pick a liveone. Not some bum with a few lousy bucks. None of that
shit. She waited, alone, in the Greeks. A doggie came in and ordered
coffee and a hamburger. He asked her if she wanted something. Why
not. He smiled. He pulled a bill from a thick roll and dropped it on
the counter. She pushed her chest out. He told her about his ribbons.
And medals. Bronze Star. And a Purpleheart with 2 Oakleaf Clusters.
Been overseas 2 years. Going home. He talked and slobbered and she
smiled. She hoped he didnt have all ones. She wanted to get him out
before anybody else came. They got in a cab and drove to a downtown
hotel. He bought a bottle of whiskey and they sat and drank and he
talked. She kept filling his glass. He kept talking. About the war.
How he was shot up. About home. What he was going to do. About the
months in the hospital and all the operations. She kept pouring but
he wouldnt pass out. The bastard. He said he just wanted to be near
her for a while. Talk to her and have a few drinks. She waited.
Cursed him and his goddamn mother. And who gives a shit about your
leg gettin all shotup. She had been there over an hour. If hed fucker
maybe she could get the money out of his pocket. But he just talked.
The hell with it. She hit him over the head with the bottle. She
emptied his pockets and left. She took the money out of his wallet
and threw the wallet away. She counted it on the subway. 50 bucks.
Not bad. Never had this much at once before. Shouldve gotten more
though. Listenin to all that bullshit. Yeah. That sonofabitch. I
shoulda hitim again. A lousy 50 bucks and hes talkin like a wheel or
somethin. She kept 10 and stashed the rest and hurried back to the
Greeks. Tony and Al were there and asked her where she was. Alex says
ya cutout with a drunken doggie a couple a hours ago. Yeah. Some
creep. I thought he was loaded. Didju score? Yeah. How much? 10
bucks. He kept bullshitin how much he had and alls he had was a lousy
10. Yeah? Lets see. She showed them the money. Yasure thats all
yagot? Ya wanna search me? Yathink I got somethin stashed up my ass
or somethin? We/ll take a look later. Yeah. How about you? Score? We
got a few. But you dont have ta worry aboutit. You got enough. She
said nothing and shrugged her shoulders. She smiled and offered to
buy them coffee. And? Krist. What a bunch of bloodsuckers. OK Hey
Alex . . . They were still sitting at the counter when the doggie
came in. He was holding a bloodied handkerchief to his head and blood
had caked on his wrist and cheek. He grabbed Tralala by the arm and
pulled her from the stool. Give me my wallet you goddamn whore. She
spit in his face and told him ta go fuckhimself. Al and Tony pushed
him against the wall and asked him who he thought he was. Look, I
dont know you and you dont know me. I got no call to fight with you
boys. All I want is my wallet. I need my ID Card or I cant get back
in the Base. You can keep the goddamn money. I dont care. Tralala
screamed in his face that he was a no good mothafuckin sonofabitch
and then started kicking him, afraid he might say how much she had
taken. Ya lousy fuckin hero. Go peddle a couple of medals if yaneed
money so fuckin bad. She spit in his face again, no longer afraid he
might say something, but mad. Goddamn mad. A lousy 50 bucks and he
was cryin. And anyway, he shouldve had more. Ya lousy fuckin creep.
She kicked him in the balls. He grabbed her again. He was crying and
bent over struggling to breathe from the pain of the kick. If I dont
have the pass I cant get in the Base. I have to get back. Theyre
going to fly me home tomorrow. I havent been home for almost 3 years.
Ive been all shot up. Please, PLEASE. Just the wallet. Thats all I
want. Just the ID Card. PLEASE PLEASE!!! The tears streaked the caked
blood and he hung on Tonys and Als grip and Tralala swung at his
face, spitting, cursing and kicking. Alex yelled to stop and get out.
I dont want trouble in here. Tony grabbed the doggie around the neck
and Al shoved the bloodied handkerchief in his mouth and they dragged
him outside and into a darkened doorway. He was still crying and
begging for his ID Card and trying to tell them he wanted to go home
when Tony pulled his head up by his hair and Al punched him a few
times in the stomach and then in the face, then held him up while
Tony hit him a few times; but they soon stopped, not afraid that the
cops might come, but they knew he didnt have any money and they were
tired from hitting the seaman they had lushed earlier, so they
dropped him and he fell to the ground on his back. Before they left
Tralala stomped on his face until both eyes were bleeding and his
nose was split and broken then kicked him a few times in the balls.
Ya rotten scumbag, then they left and walked slowly to 4th avenue and
took a subway to manhattan. Just in case somebody might put up a
stink. In a day or two he/11 be shipped out and nobodyll know the
difference. Just another fuckin doggie. And anyway he deserved it.
They ate in a cafeteria and went to an allnight movie. The next day
they got a couple of rooms in a hotel on the east side and stayed in
manhattan until the following night. When they went back to the
Greeks Alex told them some MPs and a detective were in asking about
the guys who beat up a soldier the other night. They said he was in
bad shape. Had to operate on him and he may go blind in one eye.
Ain't that just too bad. The MPs said if they get ahold of the guys
who did it theyd killem. Those fuckin punks. Whad the law say.
Nottin. You know. Yeah. Killus! The creeps. We oughtta dumpem on
general principles. Tralala laughed. I shoulda pressed charges fa
rape. I wont be 18 for a week. He raped me the dirty freaky
sonofabitch. They laughed and ordered coffeeand. When they finished
Al and Tony figured theyd better make the rounds of a few of the bars
and see what was doin. In one of the bars they noticed the bartender
slip an envelope in a tin box behind the bar. It looked like a pile
of bills on the bottom of the box. They checked the window in the
MENS ROOM and the alley behind it then left the bar and went back to
the Greeks. They told Tralala what they were going to do and went to
a furnished room they had rented over one of the bars on 1st avenue.
When the bars closed they took a heavy duty screwdriver and walked to
the bar. Tralala stood outside and watched the street while they
broke in. It only took a few minutes to force open the window, drop
inside, crawl to the bar, pickup the box and climb out the window and
drop to the alley. They pried open the box in the alley and started
to count. They almost panicked when they finished counting. They had
almost 2 thousand dollars. They stared at it for a moment then jammed
it into their pockets. Then Tony took a few hundred and put it into
another pocket and told Al theyd tell Tralala that that was all they
got. They smiled and almost laughed then calmed themselves before
leaving the alley and meeting Tralala. They took the box with them
and dropped it into a sewer then walked back to the room. When they
stepped from the alley Tralala ran over to them asking them how they
made out and how much they got and Tony told her to keep quiet that
they got a couple a hundred and to play it cool until they got back
to the room. When they got back to the room Al started telling her
what a snap it was and how they just climbed in and took the box but
Tralala ignored him and kept asking how much they got. Tony took the
lump of money from his pocket and they counted it. Not bad eh Tral?
250 clams. Yeah. How about giving me 50 now. What for? You aint going
no where now. She shrugged and they went to bed. The next afternoon
they went to the Greeks for coffee and two detectives came in and
told them to come outside. They searched them, took the money from
their pockets and pushed them into their car. The detectives waved
the money in front of their faces and shook their heads. Dont you
know better than to knock over a bookie drop? Huh? Huh, Huh! Real
clever arent you. The detectives laughed and actually felt a
professional amazement as they looked at their dumb expressions and
realized that they really didnt know who they had robbed. Tony slowly
started to come out of the coma and started to protest that they
didnt do nothin. One of the detectives slapped his face and told him
to shutup. For Christs sake dont give us any of that horseshit. I
suppose you just found a couple of grand lying in an empty lot?
Tralala screeched, a what? The detectives looked at her briefly then
turned back to Tony and Al. You can lush a few drunken seamen now and
then and get away with it, but when you start taking money from my
pocket youre going too far sonny. What a pair of stupid punks . . .
OK sister, beat it. Unless you want to come along for the ride? She
automatically backed away from the car, still staring at Tony and Al.
The doors slammed shut and they drove away. Tralala went back to the
Greeks and sat at the counter cursing Tony and Al and then the bulls
for pickinem up before she could get hers. Didnt even spend a penny
of it. The goddamn bastards. The rotten stinkin sonsofbitches. Those
thievin flatfooted bastards. She sat drinking coffee all afternoon
then left and went across the street to Willies. She walked to the
end of the bar and started talking with Ruthy, the barmaid, telling
her what happened, stopping every few minutes to curse Tony, Al, the
bulls and lousy luck. The bar was slowly filling and Ruthy left her
every few minutes to pour a drink and when she came back Tralala
would repeat the story from the beginning, yelling about the 2 grand
and they never even got a chance to spend a penny. With the repeating
of the story she forget about Tony and Al and just cursed the bulls
and her luck and an occasional seaman or doggie who passed by and
asked her if she wanted a drink or just looked at her. Ruthy kept
filling Tralalas glass as soon as she emptied it and told her to
forget about it. Thats the breaks. No sense in beatin yahead against
the wall about it. Theres plenty more. Maybe not that much, but
enough. Tralala snarled, finished her drink and told Ruthy to fill it
up. Eventually she absorbed her anger and quieted down and when a
young seaman staggered over to her she glanced at him and said yes.
Ruthy brought them two drinks and smiled. Tralala watched him take
the money out of his pocket and figured it might be worthwhile. She
told him there were better places to drink than this crummy dump.
Well, lez go baby. He gulped his drink and Tralala left hers on the
bar and they left. They got into a cab and the seaman asked her
whereto and she said she didnt care, anywhere. OK. Takeus to Times
Square. He offered her a cigarette and started telling her about
everything. His name was Harry. He came from Idaho. He just got back
from Italy. He was going to—she didnt bother smiling but watched
him, trying to figure out how soon he would pass out. Sometimes they
last allnight. Cant really tell. She relaxed and gave it thought.

BOOK: Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr
10.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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