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“What’s going on in there?” a shrill, vexed voice suddenly calls out. “Are you ever going to come out? Do you think the rest of us can wait indefinitely?”

“It’s Madame Saint-Pierre, my school principal!”

Charlie eases off, entering and exiting more slowly as though he intends to stop altogether. It seems a long time to Missie. Madame Saint-Pierre is still knocking on the door.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Missie’s frantic face in the mirror.

“No, don’t stop, I beg you. Keep fucking me. I’m going to come. Fuck me. . Oh, God! It feels so good. . I feel like I’m going to die. .”

Several minutes later, heedless of the outraged woman’s continued knocking at the door, which reaches them as though through a thick cloud, Charlie and Missie reach their climax at the same time, something that happens to them only in unusual places such as this. Charlie’s sperm surges in furious spasms deep into Missie’s arched body, which he holds tightly against himself with one hand spread across her thin waist, which heaves like that of a wild animal.

A Mouse in the Elevator

CHARLIE IS LYING on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, when Fanfan comes in.

“There was a girl in the elevator. . I think she was crying. .”

“It was Missie.”

“Oh, her! She’s not bad at all. . Well done, my man. .”

“I just told her to go home. She’s been hanging around here for three days.”

“You want to dump her?”

“It’s not even that! I just don’t want to change my life for her, Fanfan. Now that she’s got a taste for it, she never wants to get out of bed. Meanwhile, I’ve got other things to do, you know?. . I have no doubt that once she’s had her fill of me I’ll never see her again. That’s how it is, my man, I know the rules. Why do women always make such a big hullabaloo?”

“Easy for you to say, you’re the one holding all the cards. . But wait until there’s a new deal, Charlie.”

“It’s not me she wants, Fanfan. That’s the thing. . The more time I spend with her, the better off my parents are. Weird, eh? That’s the only reason I do it. .”

“You still want your dough?” Fanfan asks, taking a few crumpled gourde notes from his pocket.

“No, I’m good,” Charlie says, with a small smile.

“You going to the game tonight?”

“Who’s playing?”

“Violette versus Don Bosco.”

“Pfff. . two to nothing for Don Bosco.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. . Manno Sanon is playing pretty well these days. I saw him when Don Bosco made mincemeat out of Bacardi. And Vorbe has something wrong with his ankle. . I’d say two to one for Don Bosco.”

“Whoa, slow down a bit. . It’s the Violette Athletic Club we’re talking about here, isn’t it? That team could beat Don Bosco with two players missing. Vorbe can stay home if he wants to, my friend. .”

“Not since Don Bosco picked up Manno Sanon. . What you say may have been right before that. .”

“How much you want to bet?”

“I don’t want to take your money. . I know what the score will be: two to one in favour of Don Bosco. Sanon will score two goals in the first half. Vorbe will score for Violette towards the end of the game.”

“If you’re so sure of that, should we put a hundred dollars on it?”

Fanfan recoils as though he’s been punched in the face. He does a quick calculation: one hundred dollars equals five hundred gourdes. He doesn’t have that kind of money. He’s sure of winning, though, unless Sanon’s sidelined for some unknown reason early in the game, leaving Vorbe alone on the field. Even with his bad ankle that devil is easily capable of scoring a couple of goals. Where would he find the money, anyway? He can’t ask his mother for five hundred gourdes. Madame Saint-Pierre would cough it up, he thinks. Fanfan is pretty sure Charlie is betting with Missie’s money, otherwise he would have kept it down to his usual twenty gourdes. Fan-fan thinks that if he ever did win, Charlie should be the one to pay up.

“I’ll go get her, Charlie.”

“Get who?”

“Missie. . Her eyes glow in the dark. They’re like little mouse’s eyes.”

Charlie seems to weigh the situation for a brief moment.

“Whatever you want. . The problem is she doesn’t want to leave me. If I didn’t tell her it was time to go, she’d never go home at all. I don’t know what she sees in this place. Small room, no window. .”

“It looks different. .”

“Well, she does the dishes and makes the bed. . She’s made a few improvements on the sly. Sometimes I go out and leave her to it. And when I come back there’s always some new thing in the room. She’s taking over the place. Doesn’t matter how often I tell her this is my sanctuary. She has her big villa, but she wants my room as well. Those people are truly insatiable. That’s how they get rich, too. They take whatever there is to be taken.”

“I don’t know about that, but that was something, anyway, seeing her in the elevator. . Those frightened little eyes in the dark. .”

“Ah, the poet. . I know what you’re thinking, Fanfan. . You think she’s going to give you the money. Well, what I say is you’d be better off getting the money from someone else, and bring me my winnings tomorrow morning. If there’s no score, you win, that’s how sure I am. Or you can give me three hundred gourdes now, and keep the rest. .”

“You want me to pay you before the game. . Now you’re really off your head. . I’ve got to run, anyway. . Get your money ready. .”

“Right. Tell her she can come back.”

“You suddenly have your doubts?”

“Not at all. . But you’d be better off going to see your school principal. .”

“See you tomorrow, brother. .”

“That you will, my man, see you tomorrow. .”

Skin

RETURNING TO THE TABLE, Madame Sainte-Pierre still appears to be in a state of shock.

“I was beginning to think you’d run into your little friend. .”

“Oh, don’t be silly. He isn’t even here. . But you’ll never guess what did happen, Christina. .”

“I’m not even going to try. .”

“I couldn’t get into the washroom because that niece of Ambassador Abel’s was in there being screwed by some man. .” she blurted out in a single breath.

“How do you know it was her, Françoise?”

“She passed right in front of us on her way there. . I recognized her because I’ve been to the Abels’ a few times. Since his brother died he no longer has guests. And I’ve often seen her play tennis at the Circle.”

“She’s a very good tennis player, but she’s too aggressive, I think. She’s a bit full of herself. June beats her regularly, and she doesn’t like it one bit. In my opinion, she’s a better player than June, but she doesn’t win because she keeps losing her nerve. . June uses a bit too much topspin, I think. . I think she’s changed a lot, lately. .”

“But listen to me, Christina. I was standing there at the door, I could hear them as plainly as I can hear you. I was transfixed! I had no idea how well whatever goes on in that washroom can be heard outside. . I shudder to think what I might have said myself when I’ve been in there. .”

“What could you hear?”

“Everything! Everything, everything. Everything, I tell you. .”

“Well, that must be what’s shocked you. You’ve seemed very edgy these past few days. Are you sure you’re not just a tad jealous, perhaps?”