"Is that why you let him screw you this afternoon? Or didn't you?"
"I didn't really."
"He lied?"
Silence. She slides an inch deeper into his side of the bed. "I don't think it counts when you just let somebody do it to you and don't do anything back."
"You don't."
"No, it just happens on the surface, a million miles away."
"And how about with me? Is it the same way, you don't feel anything, it's so far away. So you're really a virgin, aren't you?"
"Shh. Whisper. No, I do feel things with you."
"What?"
She nudges closer and her arm encircles his thick waist. "I feel you're a funny big teddy bear my Daddy has given me. He used to bring home these extravagant Steiff toys from F.A.O. Schwarz's in New York, giraffes six feet high that cost five hundred dollars, you couldn't do anything with them, they'd just stand around taking up space. Mother hated them."
"Thanks a lot." Sluggishly he rolls over to face her.
"Other times, when you're over me, I feel you're an angel. Piercing me with a sword. I feel you're about to announce something, the end of the world, and you say nothing, just pierce me. It's beautiful."
"Do you love me?"
"Please, Harry. Since that God thing I went through I just can't focus that way on anybody."
"Is Skeeter out of focus for you too?"
"He's horrible. He really is. He feels all scaly, he's so bitter."
"Then why in holy hell -?"
She kisses him to stop his voice. "Shh. He'll hear." Sounds travel freely down the stairs, through the house of thin partitions. The rooms are quadrants of one rustling heart. "Because I must, Harry. Because whatever men ask of me, I must give, I'm not interested in holding anything for myself. It all melts together anyway, you see."
"I don't see."
"I think you do. Otherwise why did you let him stay? You had him beaten. You were killing him."
"Yeah, that was nice. I thought I was out of shape worse than I am."
"Yet now he's here." She flattens her body against his; it feels -transparent. He can see through her to the blue window beyond, moonlit, giving onto the garage roof, composition shingling manufactured with a strange shadow-line, to give an illusion of thickness. She confesses, in such a whisper it may be only a thought he overhears, "He frightens me."
"Me too."
"Half of me wanted you to kick him out. More than half."
"Well," and he smiles unseen, "if he is the next Jesus, we got to keep on His good side." Her body broadens as if smiling. It has grown plain that the betrayals and excitements of the day must resolve into their making love now. He encloses her skull in his hands, caressing the spinelike ridges behind the seashell curve of her ears, palming the broad curve of the whole, this cup, sealed upon a spirit. Knowing her love is coming, he sees very clearly, as we see in the etched hour before snow. He amends, "Also, Janice has been doing some things out of the way, so I have to do things out of the way."
"To pay her back."
"To keep up with her."
The item was narrow-measure:
Sentenced for
Possession
Eight local men and one woman were given six-month sentences for possession of marijuana Thursday.
The defendants appearing before Judge Milton F. Schoffer had been apprehended in a police raid on Jimbo's Lounge, Weiser Street, early in the morning of August 29.
The female among them, Miss Beatrice Greene, a well-known local entertainer under her nom de plume of "Babe," had her sentence suspended, with one year's probation, as were four of the men. Two minors were remanded to juvenile court.
A tenth defendant, Hubert H. Farnsworth, failed to appear in court and forfieted bail. A warcourt and forfeited bail. A warant has been issued for his arrest.
ant has been issued for his arrest.
The proprietor of Jimbo's, Mr. Timothy Cartney of Penn
Rabbit's ears can sense now when Pajasek is coming up behind him with a phone call. Something weary and menacing in his step, and then his breath has a sarcastic caress. "Angstrom, maybe we should move your Lino into my office. Or install a phone jack out here."
"I'll give her hell, Ed. This is the last time."
"I don't like a man's private life to interfere with his work."
"I don't either. I tell you, I'll tell her."
"Do that, Harry. Do that for good old Verity. We have a team here, we're in a highly competitive game, let's keep up our end, what do you say?"
Behind the frosted walls he says into the phone, "Janice, this is the last time. I won't come to the phone after this."
"I won't be calling you after this, Harry. After this all our communications will be through lawyers."
"How come?"
"How come? How come!"
"How come. Come on. Just give me information. I got to get back to the machine."
"Well, for one reason how come, you've let me sit over here without ever once calling me back, and for another you've taken a darkie into the house along with that hippie, you're incredible, Harry, my mother always said it, `He means no harm, he just has less moral sense than a skunk,' and she was right."
"He's just there a couple days, it's a funny kind of emergency."
"It must be funny. It must be hilarious. Does your mother -know? So help me, I have a mind to call and tell her."
"Who told you, anyway? He never goes out of the house."
He hopes by his reasonable tone to bring hers down; she does unwind a notch. "Peggy Fosnacht. She said Billy came home absolutely bug-eyed. He said the man was on the living-room floor and the first thing he said was to insult Billy."
"It wasn't meant as an insult, it was meant to be pleasant."
"Well I wish I could be pleasant. I wish it very much. I've seen a lawyer and we're filing a writ for immediate custody of Nelson. The divorce will follow. As the guilty party you can't remarry for two years. Absolutely, Harry. I'm sorry. I thought we were more mature than this, I hated the lawyer, the whole thing is too ugly."
"Yeah, well, the law is. It serves a ruling elite. More power to the people."
"I think you've lost your mind. I honestly do."
"Hey, what did you mean, I let you sit over there? I thought that was what you wanted. Isn't Stavros still doing the sitting with you?"
"You might at least have fought a little," she cries, and gasps for breath between sobs. "You're so weak, you're so wishy-washy," she manages to bring out, but then it becomes pure animal sound, a kind of cooing or wheezing, as if all the air is running out of her, so he says, "We'll talk later, call me at home," and hangs up to plug the leak.
Park, expressed shock and strong disapproval of drag use over the telephone to VAT inquiries.
Cartney was not in the building at the time of the arrests.
Rumors have prevailed for some time concerning the sale of this well-known nightspot and gathering place to a "black capitalist" syndicate.
During the coffee break Buchanan comes over. Rabbit touches his wallet, wondering if the touch will go up. Escalation. Foreign aid. Welfare. He'll refuse if it does. If he asks more than twenty, let them riot in the streets. But Buchanan holds out two ten dollar bills, not the same two, but just as good. "Friend Harry," he says, "never let it be said no black man pays his debts. I'm obliged to you a thousand and one times over, them two sawbucks turned the cards right around. Would you believe two natural full houses in a row? I couldn't believe it myself, nobody could, those fools all stayed the second time like there was no tomorrow." He wads the money into Rabbit's hand, which is slow to close.
"Thanks, uh, Lester. I didn't really -