The Royal Family (62 page)

I love you, darling, he’d said to Irene.

Love you,
too!
she always used to whisper, kissing him again and again. But by the end she only palely replied: Thank you for loving me.

There was nothing pale about the Queen.

He slid his hand around the Queen’s shoulders and she got up and moved away, as he thought, but a few moments later they had come face to face and his mouth was on her mouth and her lips opened. His tongue was in her mouth. She was sucking his lips. He kissed her until his vision went black. —Thank you, Africa, he said. There was a roaring around him. All he could think of was: Oh, God. Oh, God. Thank you, God.

He stumbled away and sat down, weak. He kept whispering: Oh, God, oh, God. His heart rushed. For this alone it was worth having lived.

•

You certainly deserve credit, friend Midas, for striking out so brilliant a conception. But are you quite sure that this will satisfy you?

 

H
AWTHORNE
, “The Golden Touch” (1851)

•

A small black woman came into the Wonderbar and said to Loreena: Could I please have a few napkins?

Sure, honey, said Loreena, glancing warily over her shoulder—only to find Heavyset, her boss.

It’s not like we have a lot of napkins, Heavyset said coolly, resting his elbows on a mountain of them. Give her one.

I have a cold, the black woman explained in a shy whisper. I was fixin’ to blow my nose.

Oh, Jesus, said Heavyset in disgust. Give her a paper cup. Here, nigger. Now get out.

Thank you for the napkins, sweetheart, the Queen said to Loreena. Bless you.

She glided almost silently out through the swinging doors.

Well, did you
hear
that! shouted Heavyset. That stinking
impudent
little nigger bitch!

Oh, get a grip, said Loreena.

That’s right. I forgot. Your boyfriend’s a nigger. You actually take a black schlong inside your belly. You—

Go to hell, Heavyset.

Don’t you smart off to me. I could fire you just like that. You want me to fire you? I know you were homeless before. You want to eat out of garbage cans again?

Listening to you is just like being around garbage, Loreena told him. Go ahead. Fire me. How many other girls you think you can find who will put up with your shit?

You know what? I’m gonna charge you for those napkins, said Heavyset. Those napkins cost a nickel apiece. I’m taking ten cents out of your wages.

Oh, don’t bother. Here’s a quarter, greedhead. Now, are you gonna fire me or can I go back to waiting on my customers?

I’ll credit you fifteen cents, the owner said. But I don’t want that nigger bitch coming in here again to scrounge more handouts. How often do you let her in here?

Oh, she comes and goes. Now let me go back to work, okay? This is like the
nightmare shift.
This is the shift from hell.

Outside, the Queen was saying: All right, Sapphire, now here’s a couple nice new napkins to wipe your mouth. Hold still, girl. What did you have to go and vomit like that for? What didn’t agree with you?

Luh-luh-luh . . . said the retarded girl.

I love you, too. You’re my special one. You know that, don’t you? Now clean your mouth off. No. Not there. You missed your chin. That’s a good girl. That’s my good girl.

Beatrice, sitting in one of the red-vinyl-upholstered benches in the back of the bar (crooked-eyebrowed old Dan Smooth said that the only two alterations in the Wonderbar over the past thirty years were that new upholstery, scarcely a decade old, and a slight abatement in the general darkness), had seen it all. Without the Queen’s knowledge she told the tall man, who shot his arms out and roared into the bar where Domino was just saying
hello-o-o-o-o-o
to one of her regulars, a pleasant enough old drunk contentedly incapable of ejaculation, and the tall man said: Dom, I need to speak with you a moment, but Domino said: Can’t you see I’m doing my business? to which Justin replied: You smarting off to me, bitch? and Domino said: Go outside, Justin, and if you don’t hassle me I
promise
I’ll be out in five minutes, then turned her back on him and said to her john: How’s life, sugar? and the john said: Same as always, at which Domino raised an eyebrow, pretending to be interested, and said: I’ll bet it’s just
wonderful!
to which the john replied: I hate my wife. I hate her yelling. I just hate it. I hate the way she won’t leave me alone. If I do something to offend her, well, no apology is good enough. I ought to know. I’ve tried everything over the years. I apologize, you know; I promise I won’t do it again, I promise to change, I promise whatever the hell suits her, and even though she’s just gotten her way she won’t stop. I don’t know why. I can’t understand it. Can you understand it? I mean, she’s gotten her way. What else does she want? She starts to threaten me and then she insults me. So I, well, I apologize again and I promise again even though I don’t believe I’m in the wrong anymore, and maybe that’s my sin, that I can only apologize once or twice before I feel I’ve done my duty. I don’t know. All I know is that she won’t stop. So I
beg
her to stop. But she keeps on threatening me and kind of snarling through her teeth. So I
implore
her to stop. And she just steps it up. She just twists it in. Her voice gets louder and shriller and there’s no place to run. So finally I warn her that if she doesn’t stop I’m going to lose it. Well, that turns her into a real harpy, or maybe it incites her on toward her goal, so she keeps it up—Christ! —until we get there, and I start literally screaming with rage. And then I come here. I end up here about three nights a week. I hate it here, but it’s better than staying home. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I date you. That’s why I . . .

So you cheat on your wife and you want me to give you a gold star for it, said Domino. Well, mister, I pity your wife and I don’t give a fuck about you. Now I’ve got to go outside for a minute and see a man about a dog. When I come back, if you want a flatback or a blow, you just lay down your money in my hand. But no more of your hypocritical bullshit. Who the hell do you think you are? You’re just a kid in the candy store that can’t decide which kind of liquorice he wants to stuff his face with. Now sit there and shut up.

The trick’s jaw literally dropped as Domino marched out, swollen with happy righteousness.

All right, she said to Justin. So you interrupted me. You blew my chance to make twenty dollars. The way I see it, you owe me one big fat rock.

You’re too much, the tall man said.

Well, do I get a rock or not?

We’ll see. Listen. Heavyset just insulted Maj. He called her a nigger just because she needed two goddamned napkins to wipe Sapphire’s mouth—

And what did Maj say?

I wasn’t there.

We’ll get the sonofabitch, Justin, I promise. Someday when the time is ripe I’ll throw acid in his face, okay? ’Cause I love Maj as much as you, maybe more. But—

But what?

But right now let’s just do our business. Business comes first. I mean, it wasn’t you or me who got insulted; it was only Maj . . .

•

Wicked bitch demands your presence in the Dungeon of Dominance where you will encounter Foot Worship, Enforced Feminisation, CP for Bad Boys and much more.

 

Flier in a London phone booth (1998)

•

Where the fuck did Domino go? the john shouted. She just disappeared out of here without a sound like some vampire . . .

She does that, Loreena sighed.

Why the fuck does she do that?

She’s a good kid, Loreena said, shuffling men’s dollars like cards.

What the fuck you mean, a good kid? She’s fucked-up! And you’re one fucked-up bitch. Come here and pour me another fucking drink.

You want ice or no ice?

Come here, I said. Come closer.

This is as far as I come, Loreena said. See this bar here? This is three feet wide. And that’s the longest three feet there is. That three feet makes the Great Wall of China look like one of Domino’s skinny old hair ribbons, because on
my
shift there’s no body contact with
me.
Do you get that, mister? —
Well,
look whose sweet face is here! What’s goin’ on, baby?

Hello, sweetheart, said Tyler, sitting down on a barstool.

What’ll it be today? Shot of tequila and a lemon?

Yeah, said Tyler. Buy you one?

How nice of you, said Loreena. She went and mixed herself something clear like watery nail polish that cost Tyler three dollars.

What’s that?

That’s called a cocksucker, said Loreena complacently.

Why’s that?

Oh, I dunno, said Loreena, clearing her throat.

Domino had just floated back in, so she said: Well,
I
know. It’s because they pour the Irish cream on top, so when you gulp it down you get
cream
all over your lips. Get it?

Don’t be gross, said Loreena with surprising primness. Anyway, some people call it a pussywhip.

I’d think a pussywhip would have tomato juice in it, said Tyler.

Can we get
off
this subject?

’Magine that, said the Queen in soft wonder from the doorway. Some topics make our little Loreena squeamish.

Oh, hello, Maj, said Loreena cautiously. What’ll you have? Rum and Coke?

Mm hm, said the Queen. She came and stood beside Tyler.

What’s up? said Tyler.

My blood pressure. Hey, Henry, can you gimme a little allowance to help support my girls?

Well, said Tyler, maybe I could afford three dollars. Here’s a three-dollar bill.

He slipped her a five.

That’ll work, Maj! cried Domino happily. You got yourself a rich old bastard! Hey, how about buying me a shot?

Shot of what?

Shot of my usual.

You look pale, Domino, said Tyler.

Yeah? Well,
you
look like you just hatched out of a rat’s ass. Oh, I, uh . . . excuse me. . .

And she ran out the back door again. Before it swung completely shut they heard her retching.

Get her a shot, Loreena, said the Queen wearily.

She shouldn’t be drinking in her condition, the barmaid said.

What, you think she’d ever keep it? That girl just got pure poison instead of milk in her tits. That’s my little girl. That’s my secret weapon.