“Oh. ’Tis beggin’ your pardon, I am then-—Balz.”
“Still,” Annie mused, “I don’t know why he wants to be called that. After all, it is something of a misnomer.”
“But it’s my name!” Balzac protested. “At least I should be allowed to keep that!”
“Of course. Of course,” Annie soothed him. “If you want to be called Balz, then of course you shall. You have every right. You see,” she explained to Brian, “he has this problem and he’s come to Lovelights for help.”
“What sort of a problem?” Brian asked.
“He’s a eunuch.”
“Is that so now? Well, that is very interestin’. I don’t believe I iver met a eunuch before.”
“Well, you have now!” Balzac told him bitterly.
“Now I can see where that might very well be a problem, boyo,” Brian granted.
“It’s my sex life, you see.” Balzac responded to Brian’s sympathetic tone. “It’s been cut off.”
“Would you please not be puttin’ it so graphically.” Brian shuddered.
“I thought it was very apt,” Annie observed. “Sort of puts it right in a nutshell.”
“If I had even one . . .” Balzac moaned.
“I think you just have to be realistic about it,” Annie advised him. “You just have to resign yourself to getting along without women. You just have to face the fact that sex is out for you.”
“Now, just a minute, there!” Brian interrupted. “I don’t mean to be meddlin’ in your business, Annie. But you are bein’ a bit hasty there. An’ you’re offerin’ the man no hope.”
“And can you offer him any?”
“Possibly. Possibly. I can’t be but agreein’ that women are out for our friend here. But sex, afther all, just might be another matter. There’s more than one way to be skinnin’ a cat, you know. Oh, yes! Let’s just be considerin’ the other side o’ his problem now. That part which is still intact, so to speak. Lookin’ at it from a reverse angle, now-—”
“Brian, are you suggesting—”
“And why not? ’Tis little enough choice he has. Sure, an’ he should be grateful to take what he can get. An’ aren’t I just the fellow to be helpin’ him now?” Brian slung a comradely arm around Balzac and patted his shoulder.
“Well,” Annie mused, “I guess it would be a solution.”
“ ’Tis better than nothin’. You’ll be admittin’ that.”
“Yes. Yes, it is. I suppose what I’m really worried about is your motivation in all this, Brian.”
“ ’Tis better to give than to receive,” Brian said piously, reaching around to pinch Balzac’s cheek.
“But he’s already had one blow to his manhood-—”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Balzac muttered.
“Don’t you think this might really be another one?”
“Not at all. ’Twill open up a whole new vista to him.”
“I guess you’re right,” Annie said. “Yes. It is a solution. Well, Balzac—” She turned to him. “You’ve come to Lovelights for help, and we haven’t let you down. You’re going to get help.”
“What-—?” Balzac stammered, confused. “W-when—?”
“What better time than right now, me bucko?” Brian hugged him snugly. “Would that be the stockroom over there, Annie?” he asked.
“Yes? . .
“Then why don’t me an’ Balzac just be sashaym’ in there for a while, so’s we can be havin’ a bit o’ privacy.” He tugged Balzac to his feet.
“All right,” Annie agreed.
“Now, wait a minute,” Balzac protested. “I don’t think I —“
“It’s the best way,” Annie told him gently. “Believe me. Lovelights wouldn’t recommend it if we weren’t sure it would help you with your problem.”
“No! I don’t want to—”
“Give me a hand there, Annie, will you? He’s wrigglin’ so hard I’m findin’ it hard to hold him.”
“Come now, it’s for your own good.” Annie took Balzac’s other arm and helped Brian pull him along toward the stockroom.
“No! No! I don’t want to—- Help! Help!”
By this time Penny had taken advantage of the confusion of the struggle to slip out of her office unseen. She went around to the front door and made her entrance. “What’s going on here?” she demanded in a loud voice.
“Help! Help!” Balzac was screaming.
“You’ll be findin’ it most enjoyable, believe me,” Brian was saying.
“It will be good for you,” Annie was insisting.
“I said what’s going on here?” Penny shouted.
“Oh, Penny.” Annie dropped Balzac’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here. This gentleman has a problem he wants Lovelights to help him with. However, he’s a little shy of accepting our solution.”
“Shy, hell! Leggo of me, you pansy!” Balzac shouted.
“Let him go,” Penny said. “I’ll handle this,” she told Annie. “You and Brian just run along now.”
“But what about the galleys?” Annie asked.
“I’ll handle them too when they come in. Thanks for waiting, Annie. But you can go now.”
“Well, all right . . .”
“All right, me eye!” Brian was angry. “Isn’t it just like a woman now to be interferin’ with a man’s fun? An’ this is the second time this lady’s been competin’ with me. ’Tis a hell of a note when —”
“Come along, Brian.” Annie took him firmly by the arm and led him out.
“Boy, was I ever glad to see you!” Balzac said when he and Penny were alone. “Do you know what that guy meant to do to me?”
“I have a better than vague idea. But get hold of yourself. It won’t be too long before Sappho gets here and you have to go into your act again. Meanwhile, sit down and relax. I’ll be right back there in my office. You won’t be able to see me, but I’ll be there.”
A half-hour passed by before Sappho finally appeared. “Penny?” she called out as she entered. Penny didn’t answer. “Not here yet,” Sappho muttered to herself, starting for her desk. Then she saw Balzac. “Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Balzac Hosenpfeffer.”
“Balzac? That’s sort of a far-out name, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But it’s part of my tragedy. You see, my mother was an N. Y. U. student who was seduced by her French Lit. professor.”
“And she never married?”
“No. Never.” Balzac burst into tears.
“Stop that crying.” Sappho looked at him disgustedly. “Stop it! I can’t stand to see a man cry. Now just cut it out, you weepy bastard.”
“Oh! Don’t call me that! How could you? Don’t you have any sensitivity?”
“It’s accurate, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“All right then. Now, suppose you tell me just what you want here, anyway.”
“I came to see the editor of Lovelights. I came for help.”
“Well, she isn’t here yet. But I’m one of the associate editors. So what’s your problem?”
Balzac repeated his bogus tale.
“So you’re a eunuch, hey?” Sappho looked at him with interest when he finished.
“Yes.”
“I never met a eunuch before.”
“Well, there aren’t many of us around.”
“I suppose not,” Sappho granted.
“We’re a pretty select group.”
“I suppose so.”
“And besides, how would you know if you met one or not? I mean, there’s no way of telling without-—”
“Oh, I’d find out,” Sappho assured him. “As long as it’s a man, sooner or later, I’d find out.”
“I see. Well, do you think Lovelights can help me?”
“I never met a man I couldn’t help,” Sappho murmured, pulling her skirt up and displaying a shapely leg as she adjusted her stocking.
“But you never met a eunuch before,” Balzac reminded her.