“Hey! Good man, Salvo!” laughed Johnson, whipping off his sheet. “Uncork that mother!”
“Three cheers for old Sal Ferrero!” proposed Georgie, and they all hip-hip-hoorayed while pissing on a tree. Then the four of them sat down on their sheets behind the hedge and passed the bottle. “Well, what’ll we do next?” asked Georgie.
“Let’s go visit old Wosznik and spook his mutt,” suggested Johnson.
“We can burn down a couple houses,” Georgie offered. “Vince has got a hand we can use.” The bastard.
“Let’s go hang a buncha rubbers in the little tree on Cunt Hill,” Johnson said.
“Where’s that?” Vince asked.
“That rise out by old Number Nine—”
“Mount of Redemption,” said Sal.
“I never heard it called that,” Vince said. “When did it—?”
“Tiger Miller’s old buddy Lou Jones made it up.”
“What’s the point?”
“What’s the point of any cunt?” asked Georgie, and they all laughed idiotically at that.
Vince chugalugged on the fifth, got what he supposed was more or less his quarter, then handed it to Georgie. “Think I’ll bug out, fellow phantoms. Go get me some shuteye.” Thrust himself to his feet, staggered away. Fact was, he’d been thinking all night about poor Wanda Cravens. She never knew why he never came back. Poor kid. Shouldn’t have been that way. Man can cut out without being crude. Go tell her now. Wanda honey, I’m being a good boy now. Gonna be mayor, see, can’t fuck it up. You understand, hunh? Good girl. Lotta fun, but. Meant to tell you before, but I been busy — oh yes, very very busy. Too bad. Awful sorry. You know I am. Listen, though. You’re a cute kid. I’ll keep my eye out for you, know what I mean? Anything you ever need. Count on me.
Yeah, this was the place okay. Stumbled up on the porch, thumped the door, then staggered on in. Whoo-ee! shouldn’t have chugalugged. House dead still. All the junk gone. Jesus, maybe she’d moved. Light on in the bedroom. She was just grabbing up her ragtag robe when he reeled in. In her skivvies, snow-white, but her cute titties were flying free.
“Oh, Vince! Landsakes, you give me a fright! I was takin’ a bath. Didn’t know who it could be out there bumpin’ around.”
“Who else’d it be?”
“Well, I jist didn’t know, I thought maybe, you know, day after tomorra bein’ the end a the world and all, I jist thought—”
“Oh yeah. That.” Vince thought of old Ralphie and grinned. Lights all funny in the damn room somehow. He blew out his cheeks. “Hey, listen, Wanda, I didn’t mean to butt in or nothing, I just only came to tell you—”
“Vince, I never knowed you to drink so much.”
Must really be swaying. “Well, I ain’t accustomed to it.” Couldn’t quite see if she was all covered up with the robe or not.
“Vince, I’m sorry, but I have to ask ye to go. It’s all over now, what we was—”
“All over!”
“Yes, for some time now. I thought you knowed or guessed. I been comin’ to the light, Vince. And I gotta have my soul all clean for the end. I’ve sold all I had and give all the money away, and I ain’t gonna do nothin’ sinful. Leastways with the powers of—”
“Wanda! You ain’t saying you’re turning me out!”
“Vince, I gotta! It ain’t what I want or don’t want, things is different now. Jist one more day, Vince—”
“Wanda! How can you do it? I — you just—” He felt all knotted up. And she was so calm, so cold. Had she forgot how it was between them? “Please, I—”
“Vince, it was a mistake. I was lonely and you was nice to me, but we cain’t go makin’ that mistake all over agin.”
“Mistake!” Jesus, she was cutting him something awful!
“Now stop it, Vince! You’re drunk. Let’s be honest, I was a good thing for you, somethin’ for fun on the side, but—”
“Wanda!” He slumped to the bed by where she was standing, felt like bawling, took her hand. She didn’t understand, everything was wrong, he felt awful. “Wanda, Wanda, I love you! Couldn’t you tell that? You don’t know how you’re hurting me!”
“Oh, really, Vince! You’re gittin’ silly!”
He could smell the damp fragrance of her bathed crotch. My God, what was she doing to him? “Wanda, please! Try to understand! Listen, I’m gonna be mayor here! Don’t that mean nothing to you?” Maybe he should just tumble her to the sack and lay her. He worked her robe apart with his nose, pressed his face against her white-pantied groin, felt the nylon whistle along his beard.
“Vince, don’t—!”
He laughed the old laugh. “The mayor, baby!” Got a wrist before she could get away.
“The baby’s watchin’!”
“That never stopped us—”
“No!”
Shoved her hard to the bed. Springs twanged. Caught the wide-eyed drool of the baby, staring over the side of the crib. Heard Davey. She hit out, but no life in it. They all want it. “Please, Wanda!” he whispered hoarsely, as he wallowed down over her. “Once more, Wanda! for old times! for the old mayor!” She turned her head, wouldn’t let him kiss her. He unbuckled his pants, fingers thick and fumbling, whipped the fly open, reared his rump up and shoved his pants and shorts to his knees. Couldn’t bother getting the pants off her. Slide in past the legband. She squirmed—
“Please!”
“Oh Wanda, you don’t know how you’re hurting me!”
“I love you!”
“One more for the old mayor!”
“The mayor, baby!”
Vince lurched up off the bed, tripped over his own pants, whammed to the floor on his hands and knees. Johnson, Ferrero, and Lucci stood in the doorway splitting their goddamn drunken guts with laughter. “You goddamn sonuvabitching cocksuckers!” screamed Vince. Pants all tangled up somehow. Baby howling like a maniac. Davey padding in. Wanted to take a swing, hit anybody. But Jesus, he realized he had nothing left in him and he was going blind to boot.
“Well, so this is how we talk to the spirits!” grinned Johnson. “Well, boys, I for one am goin’ to join this here religion!”
“I believe!” cried Georgie. Jesus, they could hardly stand.
“Now you two fellers take a restrainin’ grip on old Dad there, so’s he don’t break the spell,” Johnson said, then hiccupped, “and let’s see ifn I cain’t git a message through to the holy kingdom.”
Sal and Georgie rubberlegged over. Grabbed Vince unconvincingly just as he’d got his pants up. Georgie shoved his pants down to his ankles again. “Don’t want you running out on us again,” he said. Vince struggled, but just didn’t have any goddamn strength.
Johnson unzipped his fly and reeled forward. Wanda cowered pale against the head of the bed, clutching the robe tight around her neck, but showing a bright white glimpse of snatch. Wasn’t her fault, she was too scared to realize, but still it made Vince mad, showing what she had like that. Lights were still screwed up. And he couldn’t sort the noises. Like a fucking circus or something. Watched the scene, but had to think about it to be sure he was seeing it. Was Johnson into her? No, he was still standing there, showing off his instrument, pulling out his shirt, and hiccupping. “Le’s git the Comin’ on the road!” he was saying to Wanda.
“Please!” she whispered. “Go away!” She was scared. Vince couldn’t see her good, but he knew, could tell. The poor kid. “Davey! don’t look! Go to your room!”