Women (28 page)

I felt peaceful in Playa del Rey. It was good to get out of the crowded, dirty court where I lived. There was no shade, and the sun beat down mercilessly on us. We were all insane in one way or another. Even the dogs and the cats were insane, and the birds and the newsboys and the hookers.

For us, in east Hollywood, the toilets never worked properly and the landlord’s cut-rate plumber could never quite fix them. We left the tank lids off and hand-manipulated the plunger. The faucets dripped, the roaches crawled, the dogs crapped everywhere, and the screens had large holes in them that let in flies and all manner of strange flying insects.

The bell bing-bonged and I got up and opened the door. It was Tessie. She was in her forties, a swinger, a redhead with obviously dyed hair.

“You’re Henry, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Debra’s in the bathroom. Please sit down.” She had on a short red skirt. Her thighs were good. Her ankles and calves weren’t bad either. She looked like she loved to fuck. I walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Debra, Tessie’s here. ...”

The first antique store was a block or two from the water. We drove down in the Volks and went in. I walked around with them. Everything was priced $800, $1500 . . . old clocks, old chairs, old tables. The prices were unbelievable. Two or three clerks stood around and rubbed their hands. They evidently worked on salary plus commission. The owner certainly located the items for almost nothing in Europe or the Ozark Mountains. I got bored looking at huge price tags. I told the girls I’d wait in the car.

I found a bar across the street, went in, sat down. I ordered a bottle of beer. The bar was full of young men mostly under 25. The were blond and slim, or dark and slim, dressed in perfectly fitting slacks and shirts. They were expressionless and undisturbed. There were no women. A large television set was on. There was no sound. Nobody watched it. Nobody spoke. I finished my beer and left.

I found a liquor store and got a 6-pack. I went back to the car and sat there. The beer was good. The car was parked in the lot in back of the antique store. The street to my left was backed up with traffic and I watched the people waiting patiently in the cars. There was almost always a man and a woman, staring straight ahead, not talking. It was, finally, for everyone, a matter of waiting. You waited and you waited—for the hospital, the doctor, the plumber, the madhouse, the jail, papa death himself. First the signal was red, then the signal was green. The citizens of the world ate food and watched t.v. and worried about their jobs or their lack of same, while they waited.

I began to think about Debra and Tessie in the antique shop. I really didn’t like Debra, but there I was entering her life. It made me feel like a peep-freak.

I sat drinking the beer. I was down to the last can when they finally came out.

“Oh Henry,” said Debra, “I found the nicest marble top table

for only $200!”

“It’s really fabulous!” said Tessie.

They climbed into the car. Debra pressed her leg against mine, “Have you been bored with all this?” she asked.

I started the engine and drove to a liquor store and bought 3 or 4 bottles of wine, cigarettes.

That bitch Tessie in her short red skirt with her nylons, I thought to myself as I paid the liquor store man. I bet she has done in at least a dozen good men without even thinking about it. I decided her problem was not thinking. She didn’t like to think. And that was all right because there weren’t any laws or rules about it. But when she reached 50 in a few years she’d begin to think! Then she’d be a bitter woman in a supermarket, jamming her shopping cart into people’s backs and ankles in the check-out line, her dark shades on, her face puffed and unhappy, her cart filled with cottage cheese, potato chips, pork chops, red onions and a quart of Jim Beam.

I went back to the car and we drove to Debra’s place. The girls sat down. I opened a bottle and poured 3 glasses.

“Henry,” said Debra, “I’m going to get Larry. He’ll drive me down in his van to pick up my table. You needn’t endure that, aren’t you glad?”

“Yes.”

“Tessie will keep you company.”

“All right.”

“You two behave yourselves now!”

Larry came in through the back door and he and Debra walked out the front. Larry warmed up the van, and they drove off.

“Well, we’re alone,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Tessie. She sat very still, looking straight ahead. I finished my drink and went to the bathroom to take a piss. When I came out Tessie was still sitting quietly on the couch.

I walked along behind the couch. When I reached her I took her under the chin and tipped her face up. I pressed my mouth against hers. She had a very large head. She had purple makeup smeared under her eyes and she smelled like stale fruit juice, apricots. She had thin silver chains dangling from each ear and at the end of each chain hung one ball—symbolic. As we kissed I reached down into her blouse. I found a breast and cupped my hand on it and rolled it around. No brassiere. Then I straightened up and pulled my hand away. I walked around the couch and sat down next to her. I poured two drinks.

“For an ugly old son of a bitch, you’ve got a lot of balls,” she said.

“How about a quickie before Debra gets back?”

“No.”

“Don’t hate me. I’m just trying to enliven the party.”

“I think you stepped out of bounds. What you just did was gross and obvious.”

“I guess I lack imagination.”

“And you’re a writer?”

“I write. But mostly I take photographs.”

“I think you fuck women just in order to write about fucking them.”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“O.K., O.K., forget it. Drink up.”

Tessie went back to her drink. She finished it and put her cigarette down. She looked at me, blinking her long false eyelashes. She was like Debra with a big lipstick mouth. Only Debra’s mouth was darker and didn’t glisten as much. Tessie’s was a bright red and her lips glistened, she held her mouth open, continually licking her lower lip. Suddenly Tessie grabbed me. That mouth opened over my mouth. It was exciting. I felt as if I was being raped. My cock began to rise. I reached down while she was kissing me and flipped her skirt back, ran my hand up her left leg as we continued to kiss.

“Come on,” I said, after the kiss.

I took her by the hand and led her into Debra’s bedroom. I pushed her down on the bed. The bedspread was on. I pulled off my shoes and pants, then pulled her shoes off. I kissed her a long one, then I pulled the red skirt up over her hips. No pantyhose. Nylons and pink panties. I pulled the panties off. Tessie had her eyes closed. Somewhere in the neighborhood I could hear a stereo playing symphony music. I rubbed a finger along her cunt. Soon it got wet and began to open. I sank my finger in. Then I pulled it out and rubbed the clit. She was nice and juicy. I mounted. I hit her a few swift, vicious jolts, then I went slow, then I ripped again. I looked into that depraved and simple face. It really excited me. I pounded away.

Then Tessie pushed me away. “Get off!”

“What? What?”

“I hear the van! I’ll get fired! I’ll lose my job!”

“No, no, you WHORE!”

I ripped away without mercy, pressed my lips against that glistening, horrible mouth and came inside of her, good. I jumped off. Tessie picked up her shoes and panties and ran to the bathroom. I wiped off with my handkerchief and straightened the bedspread, fluffed up the pillows. As I was zipping up the door opened. I walked into the front room.

“Henry, would you help Larry carry in the table? It’s heavy.”

“Sure.”

“Where’s Tessie?”

“I think she’s in the bathroom.”

I followed Debra out to the truck. We slid the table out of the van, grabbed it and carried it back to the house. As we came back in Tessie was sitting on the couch with a cigarette.

“Don’t drop the merchandise, boys!” she said.

“No way!” I said.

We carried it into Debra’s bedroom and put it by the bedside. She had another table there which she removed. Then we stood around and looked at the marble top.

“Oh, Henry . . . just $200 … do you like it?”

“Oh, it’s fine, Debra, just fine.”

I went to the bathroom. I washed my face, combed my hair. Then I dropped my pants and shorts and quietly washed my parts. I pissed, flushed, and walked back out.

“Care for a wine, Larry?” I asked.

“Oh no, but thanks. . . .”

“Thanks for helping, Larry,” said Debra.

Larry went out the back door.

“Oh, I’m so excited!'1’' said Debra.

Tessie sat and drank and talked with us for 10 or 15 minutes then she said, “I’ve got to go.”

“Stay if you want to,” said Debra.

“No, no, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to clean my apartment, it’s a mess.”

“Clean your apartment? Today? When you’ve got two nice friends to drink with?” asked Debra.

“I just sit here thinking about that mess over there and I can’t feel relaxed. Don’t take it personally.”

“All right, Tessie, you go now. We’ll forgive you.”

“All right, darling. . . .”

They kissed in the doorway and then Tessie was gone. Debra took my by the hand and led me into the bedroom. We looked at the marble tabletop.

“What do you really think of it, Henry?”

“Well, I’ve lost $200 at the track and I’ve had nothing to show for it, so I think it’s all right.”

“It will be here next to us tonight while we sleep together.”

“Maybe I ought to stand there and you can go to bed with the table?”

“You’re jealous!”

“Of course.”

Debra walked back to the kitchen and came back with some rags and some kind of cleaning fluid. She began wiping off the marble.

“You see, there is a special way to treat marble to accent the veins.”

I got undressed and sat on the edge of the bed in my shorts. Then I lay back on the pillows and on the bedspread. Then I sat up. “Oh Christ, Debra, I’m messing up your bedspread.”

“That’s all right.”

I went and got two drinks, gave one to Debra. I watched her working on the table. Then she looked at me:

“You know, you have the most beautiful legs I’ve ever seen on a man.”

“Not bad for an old guy, huh, kid?”

“Not at all.”

She rubbed at the table some more, then gave it up.

“How did you get along with Tessie?”

“She’s all right. I really like her.”

“She’s a good worker.”

“I wouldn’t know about that.”

“I feel bad that she left. I think she just wanted to give us some privacy. I ought to phone her.”

“Why not?”

Debra got on the phone. She talked to Tessie for quite some time. It began to get dark. What about dinner? She had the phone in the center of the bed and she was sitting on her legs. She had a nice behind. Debra laughed and then she said goodbye. She looked at me.

“Tessie says that you’re sweet.”

I went out for more drinks. When I got back the large color television was on. We sat side by side on the bed watching t. v. We sat with our backs to the wall, drinking.

“Henry,” she asked, “what are you doing on Thanksgiving?”

“Nothing.”

“Why don’t you have Thanksgiving with me? I’ll get the turkey. I’ll have 2 or 3 friends over.”

“All right, it sounds good.”

Debra leaned forward and snapped the set off. She looked very happy. Then the light went off. She went to the bathroom and came out with something flimsy wrapped around her. Then she was in bed next to me. We pressed together. My cock rose. Her tongue flicked in and out of my mouth. She had a large tongue and it was warm. I went on down. I spread the hair and worked my tongue. Then I gave her a bit of a nose job. She was responding. I climbed back up, mounted her and stuck it in.

... I worked and I worked. I tried to think of Tessie in her short red skirt. It didn’t help. I had given it all to Tessie. I pumped on and on.

“Sorry, baby, too much to drink. Ah, feel my heart!’'’'

She put her hand on my chest. “It’s really going,” she said.

“Am I still invited for Thanksgiving?”

“Sure, my poor dear, don’t worry, please.”

I kissed her goodnight, then rolled away and tried to sleep.

91

After Debra left for work the next morning I bathed, then tried to watch t.v. I walked around naked and noticed that I could be seen from the street through the front window. So I had a glass of grapefruit juice and dressed. Finally there was nothing to do but go back to my place. There’d be some mail, maybe a letter from someone. I made sure that all the doors were locked, then I walked out to the Volks, started it, and drove back to Los Angeles.

On the way in I remembered Sara, the third girl I had met during the reading at The Lancer. I had her phone number in my wallet. I drove home, took a crap, then phoned her.

“Hello,” I said, “this is Chinaski, Henry Chinaski. . . .”

“Yes, I remember you.”

“What are you doing? I thought I might drive out to see you.”

“I have to be at my restaurant today. Why don’t you come down here?”

“It’s a health food place, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’ll make you a good healthy sandwich.”

“Oh?”

“I close at 4. Why don’t you get here a little before that?”

“All right. How do I get there?”

“Get a pen and I’ll give you directions.”

I wrote the directions down. “See you about 3:30,” I said.

About 2:30 I got into the Volks. Somewhere on the freeway the instructions got confusing or I became confused. I have a great dislike both for freeways and for instructions. I turned off and found myself in Lakewood. I pulled into a gas station and phoned Sara. “Drop On Inn,” she answered.

“Shit!” I said.

“What’s the matter? You sound angry.”

“I’m in Lakewood! Your instructions are fucked!”

“Lakewood? Wait.”

“I’m going back. I need a drink.”

“Now hold on. I want to see you! Tell me what street in Lakewood and the nearest cross street.”

I let the phone hang and went to see where I was. I gave Sara the information. She redirected me.

“It’s easy,” she said. “Now promise you’ll come.”