"Thank you."
As the bartender left their table, Ruth whispered, "He speaks awfully good English."
"I imagine he's been talking to Americans every night for at least twenty years, from me looks of him."
"These poor girls," Ruth said, glancing at the row of young whores but dropping her gaze instantly when she noticed the one who'd spoken to her smile and tease the tip of her tongue over her heavily lipsticked lips. "Elliott, that girl over there… did you hear what she said to me?"
"I heard."
"Isn't that terrible?"
"Yes."
"What she suggested is so perverted. I can't imagine anything like that actually happening."
"Oh, those kinds of things happen, all right. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that she's made love with lots of curious American women."
"Well, don't look at me like that. I'm certainly not curious. Just the thought of such a horrid thing as she proposed petrifies me. Here comes our drinks… good."
As soon as the bartender had placed her drink before her, Ruth picked it up and took a big sip. "Could you please hurry the manager a little?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'll see what I can do," the bartender answered, calmly making change for Elliott as he spoke. "He's with a very important gentleman, from Panama, I think: but I'll tell him you wish to see him now."
"Thank you."
"Yes, ma'am," the stoical bartender said, and when Elliott gave him a dollar tip, he added, "And thank you, sir."
Two giggling girls and a serious-faced soldier moved past their table, heading for one of the rooms at the back of the building. The jukebox played constantly but no one danced, even though there was room for it. The men sat at the bar and the girls in their chairs, each group talking among themselves, the girls casting inviting glances at the men.
Only two of the tables were occupied – Ruth and Elliott at one, and three men and a woman at the other. Elliott's back was to the other table, but Ruth had a clear view of it. She watched the bartender move to it and speak to one of the men. Then he pointed at her and all of them looked. She felt like crawling under the table. The dark-skinned woman was dressed like a male flamenco dancer, but she wore no hat. Her black hair was done up in a bun, making her thin lips and high cheekbones appear even thinner and higher. The way she looked at Ruth unnerved her. She felt herself being devoured by the woman's dark, cruel eyes. And the slender man she seemed to be with looked even more menacing, despite the smile that crept over his face as he appraised Ruth. The massive Negro threw her only a brief glance before he turned back to his drink. The other man, plump, middle-aged and typically Mexican, got up and came toward their table as the bartender returned to his work.
"I am Carlos, the manager. I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Your driver told me of your desire. Come. Bring your drinks. We will take a room and talk in private."
Smiling ingratiatingly, Carlos pulled back Ruth's chair as she got up with her drink in one hand and Elliott's hand in the other. They followed Carlos toward the back, passing close to the other table, so near that Ruth thought she heard the woman say, "That one would be perfect to replace Rose, don't you think, Pico?" And then, as they moved into the hall, a male voice saying, "Muy bonita. So blonde… so fair!"
But she wasn't sure she'd heard anything, for her mind was reeling from the open lust in the handsome man's dark face as he stripped her with his evil eyes when she swept past their table holding tightly to Elliott's hand.
Carlos stopped before a door and opened it cautiously, peering inside before he swung it wide and motioned them to enter. "Very private in here. Sit down, please… there, on the couch."
It was a small room. The ancient, wrought-iron bed with its sagging mattress and faded bedspread took up most of the space. The couch and an easy chair sat on a foot-high platform, so as to give a good view of the nearby bed.
Ruth set her jaw determinedly, allowing Elliott to help her onto the platform and sitting down with him in the center of the couch. The bed loomed up at her, looking large and lewd all by itself.
Carlos took the easy chair, leaning forward to offer cigarettes which Ruth and Elliott both refused. "You want to buy some hot movies to take home?"
"No."
"Pictures or books? I got good ones."
"No."
"Just a show?"
"That's all."
Carlos grinned and shrugged. "We got good hot shows. Anything you like. What you like to see?"
"We don't have any idea," Elliott said.
"Well, we got nearly everything. I can give you a man and woman; two women; two men; one woman with two men or one man with two women; a woman with a big dog; a man wi…"
"A woman and a dog?" Ruth gasped, almost choking on a sip of her drink.
"Si, senora," Carlos grinned. "All for real, too. No put on. The girl is only sixteen, very beautiful. She really loves her dog. She is a farm girl from the back country. The dog is her own, and she do everything with him."
"A woman and a dog," Ruth said again, numbly.
"Well, not really a woman. She's just a girl."
"That sounds disgusting," Elliott muttered.
"A woman and a dog!" Ruth exclaimed. "I've never heard of anything so dirty!"
"We don't want that," Elliott said. Then he turned to Ruth. "But we should see something different… something perverted, to make my book more powerful. How about the two girls?"
"Oh, no," Ruth protested. "Not two girls."
"No," Elliott snapped. "Just the idea of two men turns my stomach."
Carlos laughed. "Mine too… but some like to see it."
Elliott made a face of distaste and shook his head vigorously.
"A woman and a dog," Ruth mumbled to herself.
Carlos took a cigarette from his pack and lit it. Exhaling, he said, "The dog is rested. He no fuck any so far today."
"Elliott, I can't believe a woman and a dog."
"They make you a good hot show," Carlos grinned. "You ever see a dog hump a woman, senor?"
"Certainly not."
"Something to see. Everybody ought to see it once before they die."
"I believe my wife and I can live quite well withou…"
"How much?" Ruth broke in.
"Fifty dollars."
"Pay him, Elliott."
"Ruth, you can't be serious."
"You can't stomach the men, and I absolutely refuse to watch two women. You want something perverted and dirty to write about, don't you? What in the world could be more perverted than a girl having sex with an animal?"
"Well… if you think you can stand to watch it."
"I can't believe it," she said. "It horrifies me. If you want to know the truth, it fascinates me… and I bet it will fascinate everyone who reads your book."
"Do you really think so, honey?"
"I'd bet on it. I've got to see it. It'll probably make me ill… but I've still got to see it, Elliott."
"All right," Elliott said, getting out his wallet and giving Carlos the money. "We'll see the girl and her dog."
"A good choice," Carlos assured. "You just relax. I'll have them here in a jiffy." He stood, counting the money before he put it in his pocket. "You want another drink sent in?"
"No, thank you."
"Okay, give me a couple of minutes. I get them in here as soon as possible for you." He paused at the door. "The girl, she is very new here… speaks no English."
"We didn't come for conversation," Elliott said.
"I only tell you so you don't get angry if you ask her something and she no answer. If you speak Spanish to her, she answer you; but she no understand much English. Okay?"
"Okay. Just get them. I'm anxious to have it over with and get out of here."
Carlos stepped into the hall and shut the door. He hurried toward the main room, hoping to find Carmelita sitting unoccupied in one of the chairs facing the bar. He was barely inside the room when Pico called: "Carlos. Come here."