“A year,” she went on. “And every godforsaken day that bastard never stopped ogling me, his wife screaming from morning to night. I worked there for a year. I waited on customers, wiped the tables, swept the floor, and look where it got me. The boss runs his hand up my crotch and everything is back to square one. Me and my two suitcases. I’ve got just enough left to last me a few days, or buy myself a train ticket.”
She shook her head for a long time, then looked up at me and smiled. I recognized her again.
“That’s not even the punch line,” she said. “I don’t even have anywhere to sleep. I got my things together in a hurry-the other girls stared at me with bug eyes. ‘I’m not staying here one more minute!’ I told them. ‘I can’t stand the sight of that bastard’s face one more second!’ “
I opened a beer on the edge of the table.
“Well, I’ll tell you…You’re right,” I said. “I think you’re a hundred percent right.”
Her eyes sparkled at me. I felt her coming back to life-felt it grab her around the waist and shake her. Her long hair billowed over the table.
“Yeah, somehow that guy must have got it in his head that I belonged to him. You know the type…”
“Yeah, sure, I know. Believe me, I know…”
“Yeah. I think they all go crazy after a certain age.”
We cleared the table and I took the two suitcases inside. She started doing the dishes-I could see the water squirting in front of her. She reminded me of some strange flower equipped with translucent antennas and a violet Naugahyde core. I didn’t know many girls who could get away with wearing that color miniskirt so carelessly. I tossed the suitcases on the bed.
“You know, when you think about it,” I said, “it’s not bad, what’s happening to us…”
“Yeah? You think so?”
“Yeah. Usually I can’t stand people, but I’m glad you’re here.”
The next day she was up before me. It had been such a long time since I’d had breakfast with someone, I’d forgotten what it was like. I got up and got dressed without saying a word. I slipped behind her and kissed her neck. I sat down in front of my coffee cup. She was buttering bread wide as water skis, rolling her eyes, and I couldn’t keep from smiling. The day was off to a really good start.
“Okay, I’m going to try to get through with work as soon as I can,” I said. “I’ve got to go into town for a minute, you want to come?”
She glanced around the house and shook her head.
“No, I think I better try to straighten up a little around here. It really needs it…”
So I left her there and went to get the truck out of the garage.
I parked in front of the entrance, by the guard house. George was half asleep, a newspaper on his stomach. I went in behind him and grabbed the laundry bag.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said.
He grabbed one too and followed me out, yawning. We threw the bags in the back of the truck and went back for the others.
“I saw that girl again yesterday,” he said.
I hauled a bag, not answering.
“It’s you she was looking for, right?”
He was dragging his heels. The sun was starting to beat down hard.
“A girl in a little violet skirt and lots of black hair,” he added.
lust then Betty came out of the house and ran toward us. We watched her come.
“You mean a girl like that?” I said.
“Jesus H. Christ” he said.
“Well, you’re exactly right. It was me she was looking for.”
I introduced them, and while the old man was doing his Romeo number, I went back and got the shopping list. I shoved it in my pocket and went back to the car, lighting up my first cigarette of the day. Betty was sitting in the passenger seat, talking to George through the window. I walked around and slid in behind the wheel.
“On second thought,” she said, “I decided to come along for the ride.”
I slipped my arm around her shoulder and pulled away slowly, trying to make the pleasure last. She handed me a stick of mint chewing gum, throwing the wrappers on the floor. She squeezed herself against me the whole way. I didn’t need a fortune-teller to see how terrific it all was.
First we got rid of the laundry and then I went across the street with the shopping list. The guy at the store was busy pasting labels all over the place, so I just slid the paper in his pocket.
“Take your time,” I said. “I’ll come back later. Don’t forget my bottle.”
He stood up too fast and smashed his head into a shelf. He made a face-he was ugly enough without it.
“We said a bottle every other week, not every week,” he said.
“Right, but it turns out I had to take on an associate. That changes things.”
“What are you talking about?”‘
“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t change anything between you and me. I’ll keep doing my shopping here as long as you show some smarts.”
“Jesus, one every week, though. That’s a little-”
“Things are tough all over.”
Just then he noticed Betty in her little tank top waiting for me out in the truck, her crazy earrings twinkling in the light. He played around for a second with the lump on his skull, then shook his head.
“I know things are tough all over, but I think some bastards make out better than others.”
I didn`t think I was in a good position to argue. I left him standing in the middle of his boxes and went back out to the car.
“Okay, well, we have a little time,” I said. “How would you feel about some ice cream?”
“Jesus, Mary, and joseph, I’m with you!”
I knew the old lady at the ice cream place pretty well. I was one of her best customers in the liquor-topped-sundae department. She usually left the bottle on the counter. I made conversation with her. I waved when we came in. Betty sat at a table and I went up to order.
“I think that’ll be two peach sherbets,” I said.
I went behind the counter to give her a hand. She stuck her arms down into the steaming freezer and I took out two parfait glasses that held about a quart each. I went down into the cupboard looking for the jar of peaches.
“Hey,” she said. “A little excited today, aren’t we?”
I straightened up and took a look at Betty sitting there with her legs crossed, a cigarette in her mouth.
“What do you think of her?” I asked.
“A bit vulgar…”
I took the bottle of maraschino and sprinkled it on the sherbet.
“That’s understandable,” I said. “She’s an angel, straight from heaven. Can’t you see…?”
On the way back we stopped to get the laundry, and I went across the street to pick up the groceries. It must have been about noon-it was starting to get really hot out. We had no time to lose, getting back.
I spotted my bottle right off. He’d left it there in plain sight, in front of the bags. It was not exactly service with a smile-in fact it was hardly service at all. I made off with my bags and bottle.
“You sulking?” I asked him, on the way out.
He didn’t even look at me.
“Too bad,” I said. “You’re the only black spot in my whole day.”
I shoved everything in the back of the truck and steered toward the motel. At the edge of town, a hot wind started blasting. The whole area suddenly looked like a desert-wilted plants and long shadows. I liked it. I liked the color of the dirt, and I’ve always had a thing for large, lonely spaces. We rolled up the windows. I had my foot to the floor, but the car would do only forty-five, what with the head wind. After a while, Betty turned to look out the back. Her hair must have made her hot-she kept lifting it up all the time.
“You know what?” she said. “With this little truck and all that food, two people could go just about anywhere?
Twenty years earlier, the idea would have set me on fire. Now, it was all I could do to keep from yawning.