Women

90

The next day was Saturday and Debra cooked us breakfast.

"Are you coming antique hunting with us today?"

"All right."

"Are you hungover?" she asked.

"Not too bad."

We ate in silence for a while, then she said, "I liked your reading at The Lancer. You were drunk but it came through."

"Sometimes it doesn't."

"When are you going to read again?"

"Somebody's been phoning from Canada. They're trying to raise funds."

"Canada! Can I go with you?"

"We'll see."

"Are you staying tonight?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

"I will then."

"Great…"

We finished breakfast and I went to the bathroom while Debra did the dishes. I flushed and wiped, flushed again, washed my hands, came out. Debra was cleaning up at the sink. I grabbed her from behind.

"You can use my toothbrush if you want," she said.

"Is my breath bad?"

"It's all right."

"Like hell."

"You can also shower if you want…"

"That too…?"

"Stop it. Tessie won't be here for an hour. We can clear away the cobwebs."

I went and let the bathwater run. The only time I liked to shower was in a motel. In the bathroom there was a photo of a man on the wall-dark, long hair, standard, handsome face run through with the usual idiocy. He smiled white teeth at me. I brushed what was left of my discolored teeth. Debra had mentioned that her ex-husband was a shrink.

Debra showered after I was through. I poured myself a small glass of wine and sat in a chair looking out the front window. Suddenly I remembered that I had forgotten to mail my ex-woman her child support money. Oh well. I'd do it Monday.

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 ma

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.