It wasnt yet three oclock and Sara was taking her orange evening pill and following it with a cup of coffee. She had watched the mailman walk up the street and he just nodded his head and went into the building. Sara followed, watched him put the mail in the boxes, stared at the emptiness of hers for many seconds before he left, then went into her apartment. She automatically made a pot of coffee then took her dinner time pill and sat at the kitchen table watching the new television her son Harry gave her. From time to time she looked at the clock. A little before three she was thinking it was almost dinner time. She took the orange pill and drank some more coffee. She made another pot. She sat. She thought. About the television. The show. About how she felt. Something was wrong. Her jaw hurt. Her mouth felt funny. She couldnt figure. It tasted like old socks. Dry. Sickening. Her stomach. O, her stomach. Such a mess. Like theres something moving. Like theres a voice in there saying look out, LOOK OUT!!!! Theyll get you. She looked over her shoulder again. Nobody. Nothing. LOOK OUT! Who’s getting? Whats to get? The voice kept rumbling in her stomach. Before when it started she took more coffee or another pill and it went away, now its just there. All the time. And that nasty coating in her mouth, like old paste, it used to go away, or something. It didnt bother her. Now, ech. And all the time the trembles in the arms and legs. Everywhere. Little things under the skin. If she knew what show it would go away. Thats all she needed. To know. She finished her coffee and waited, trying to think those good feelings back into her body, her head… but nothing. Paste and old socks in the mouth. Squirming under the skin. The voice in the stomach. LOOK OUT! She stared at the television, enjoying the show, and all of a sudden, LOOK OUT! Another cup of coffee and she felt worse. Her teeth felt like theyre going to snap. She called the McDick Corp., asking for Lyle Russel. Who? Lyle Russel. Im sorry, but I dont have his name listed on my directory. What was it in reference to? The television. What television? I dont know. I want to find out. Just a moment please. The operator took another call and Sara listened carefully to the silence. What show did you say that was? I dont know dolly.
He called me and said I was going on a show and— Just a minute. I/ll connect you with the programs department. Sara waited as the phone somewhere rang and rang, until a voice asked her if she could help her. I want Lyle Russel. Lyle Russel? I dont think we have anyone here by that name. Are you sure you have the right number? The operator connected me. Well, what was this in reference to? Hes putting me on a show. A show? What show? — LOOK OUT! — Sara could feel sweat sliding down somewhere. I dont know. Hes supposed to tell me. Im afraid I dont understand, the impatience in her voice was obvious, If you cant tell me— He called me and said Im going to be a contestant and he sent me papers. I sent them back a month already and I still dont know— O, I understand. Just a moment, I/ll transfer you to the proper department. She clicked the phone, and clicked and clicked, O, come on, and clicked some more as Sara clung to the phone and wiped the sweat from her face, Can I help you? Transfer this call to contestant clearing please. One moment please. Again Sara listened to a phone ringing, her eyes rolling around in her head the sweating and squirming getting worse, her mouth almost stuck together with that old paste, Can I help you? Sara couldnt talk. Hello? The sweat burned her eyes and eventually she pried her lips apart and a shock of terror trembled through her body as she anticipated the response when she asked for Lyle Russel. Who? Sara started to sink into her chair. She thought she would come out through the bottom. She thought she was dying and—LOOK OUT! — she twisted around and looked from one end of the room to the other as she repeated the name. Are you sure you have the right department? Theyre sending me here. The agony was unbearable. If only she had another cup of coffee. With intense will she unglued her mouth and told her story again to the voice on the other end, somewhere, of the phone. O, yes. Finally! Finally! Recognition. Sara almost melted away with relief. He must have been one of our phone solicitors. We have so many you know. Can I help you? I want to know what show and maybe when Im— Can I have your name and address please? Sara slowly and carefully spelled her name and address, the shiksa on the other end not understanding English too well. Finally her name and address were written. I/ll check this Mrs. Goldfarb and we/ll be in touch with you. Thank you for calling. Click. Sara was still talking into the phone many seconds after the click had drifted away and mingled with the voices from her television set. She looked at the phone, the sweat almost feeling like tears. Theyll get in touch, she shook her head, theyll get—LOOK OUT!!!!
Tyrone laughed, Ahm glad ah dont have no one laying any a that kind of heavy motha shit on my jim. You honkys is too much with that guilt shit. Krist, you aint kiddin man. I dont know what it is, but I try to do the right thing with the old lady, but… and Harry shrugged… but she always comes on with that Jewish mother shit. Sheeit, it aint just you jews jim, its all you honkys. You guys dont get that shit, eh? Sheeit. Moms liable to get upside your haid, but she aint about to beat her breast, uh uh. She beat your ass instead. You know, I sometimes think we/d be better off without mothers. Maybe Freud was right. Ah dont know man. Mah moms died when ah was about eight, but ah remember she was one groovy woman. She have seven kids jim an she was like one of those movie mammys, all big like an all the time singin and smilin. She have a big chest like this and she used to cuddle me jim an ah remember how good it felt in there an how sweet she smell. Seven kids man an she never hit nobody. She just love us all up and down… an everybody love her. An she be a singing fool. Ah mean all day an night she be singing those gospel songs so it make you believe heaven jus aroun the corner. You know, she sing an it make you feel good all ovuh, jus like dope. Harry laughed then chuckled, A regular Mahalia Jackson, eh? O she be somethin else jim. Yeah, I guess it was pretty cool in my house when I was a kid. I mean the moms was still alive and it seemed like everything was groovy. You know, like going places an doin things and sort of having fun in the house. Then the moms died an… Tyrone shrugged… Whatever happened to your old man? Sheeit, he done split a long time before the moms die. He probly still out there doin his own thang. When moms die we all sent to different peoples. Ah went to mah auntie in Harlem an we live there for a while. She your mothers sister? Yeah, but she be a lot different jim. But nice. She dont do no singin an she like to lay a stick on your ass, but she always see we get a sugar tit when we got home from school. Sugar tit? What the fucks that? What that? You mean you doan know what a sugar tit? I know what some sweet pussy is man, but a sugar tit beats the shit outta me. They were laughing and Tyrone shook his head, A sugar tit is some butter and sugar stuck in some cheese cloth and you suck on it like a tit. O, is that what they call that? Damn, you sure is one ignorant son of a bitch… She a nice lady ol auntie… but ol moms was somethin else, she really somethin else. Harrys eyes were closed and he was leanin back remembering how his mother always protected him from the cold wind in the winter when he was a kid, and how warm she felt when he got in the house and she hugged the cold out of his ears and cheeks and always had a bowl of hot soup waiting… Yeah, I guess the old lady was pretty groovy too. I guess its a bitch being alone like that. Harry Goldfarb and Tyrone C. Love sat loosely in their chairs, their eyes half closed, feeling the warmth of fond memories and heroin flowing through them as they got ready for another nights work.
One thing Tyrone loved was fine silk shirts. Damn! he sure did love the way they feel so smooth an fine, just like his old ladys ass, and she be an out of sight fox jim, ah mean somethin kinda fine. He had a couple dozen or so shirts hanging in his closet, various styles and various colors, all kinds of colors. He liked to stroke his shirts just like he liked to stroke Alice, an sometimes he just stood in front of the closet and dug all them fine shirts jim. Damn! he even liked that closet. It had two big sliding doors and the whole front was a mirror, one big ass mirror jim. Sometimes he would just slide the doors back and forth getting his rocks off. What you doin honey? Why dontcha come back to baid? Sheeit, plenty time for that baby, I got me a big ass toy that ahm groovin behin. Ah remember seein a movie once when I was a kid an this dude have him a big ass closet like this with sliding doors and the whole thang was filled with suits an behind them was a secret passage. It was a gasser. What he need a secret passage for? Ah doan remember, ah just remember the closet. Tyrone closed the doors and looked in the mirror, seeing his fox behind him, and he smiled at her. When Tyrone first came to look at the apartment he fell in love with the closets in the bedroom and they made up his mind for him. It was one of the first things the super showed him. Them doors is ten feet wide and all mirror. The closets about twelve feet I think. Both ofem. One on each side a the room. Ya put a bed in between and you got yaself a good show, and he laughed and winked and poked Tyrone in the arm, harharhar. Tyrone was naked and stood by the side of the bed rubbing his stomach, Yes sir, mah names Tyrone C. Love and thas what ah am, and Alice started to giggle when he jumped, kapoing, in the bed. Doan do that Tyrone, you scare me to deth. O little momma, ah wouldnt wan to scare you, rubbing her neck and shoulder, gently, so soothingly, ah doan wan to scare nobody, especially the finest fox that ever did live, and Alice started to squirm slightly as he kissed her on the neck and then she held him close to her as he kissed her throat and then her breasts as he caressed her things with his hand and she grabbed his head and kissed him and kissed him and kissed him and hugged and squeezed and squirmed and sighed and moaned as Tyrone C. Love made her feel so good and so special with his lovemaking and when he finished and was lying on his back she just sort of vibrated all over for a second and squealed, Oooooooooooooo, then quickly rolled over on her side and hugged and kissed until they both lay quietly and peacefully, arms around each other, Tyrone on his back, Alice, his lady, on her side, her face nuzzled so warmly in his shoulder, feeling a peace and contentment and excitement neither had ever known before, with or without heroin. From time to time Tyrone would open his eyes, slightly, to reassure himself that this was real and that he was lying on this bed, in this room, with this woman, and then he would sigh deeply within himself and feel her smoothness and warmth next to him and the peace and contentment within him. He allowed his head to roll slowly to the side and he kissed his Alice on the forehead and stroked her head, You is really here, and she squeezed him and nuzzled harder against his shoulder and he could feel her breath on his arm and he somehow felt and sensed that life in her that was now a part of him, and that he wanted to be a part of, and take care of. He wanted to keep her in his arms all nice and safe an they would just sort of be cool and laugh and have a ball an there would be no hassles.