“I’m hanging up.”
“I’m telling the truth. Where’s it written it’s police business when someone tells the truth?”
I sent over a carton of Kotex and a carton of Tampax, and called her the following week. “Did you get the napkins?”
“I didn’t order those. I don’t want them.”
“Order? Who said anything about order? You can’t arrest a man for sending his sweetheart a present. It wouldn’t stand up in court.”
And again the next night.
“It’s you, is it? I’m moving,” she said. “I’m moving and I’m getting an unlisted number. I hope you’re satisfied. I’ve lost my roommate on account of you. You’ve made her as nervous as me with these calls. So go ahead and say whatever you want — it’s your last chance.”
“Come out with me tonight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I love you.”
“You’re insane.”
“Listen, go to bed with me. Please. I want to make love to you. Or let me come over and see you naked. I want to know just how big you really are down there.”
“You’re sick, do you know that? You need help.”
“Then help me. Fuck me.”
“I actually feel sorry for you. I really do.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not hiding in any bushes. You know who I am. You know all about me. I’m Bernie Perk. My place of business is listed in the Yellow Pages. You could look me up. It isn’t a crime to proposition a woman. You can’t put a man behind bars for trying.”
“You disgust me.”
“Call the police.”
“You disgust me.”
“Press charges. They’ll throw them out.”
Her threat about an unlisted number didn’t bother me; a simple call to the telephone company the following afternoon straightened that out. I gave them my name and told them that Bea had brought in a prescription to be filled. After she’d picked it up I discovered that I had misread it and given her a dangerous overdose. I told them that if I were unable to get in touch with her before she took the first capsule she might die. And they’d better give me her new address as well so that I could get an ambulance to her if she’d already taken the capsule and was unable to answer the phone. Love always finds a way!
I gave her time to settle herself in her new apartment and get some of her confidence back. Then, a week later — I couldn’t wait longer: it was getting pretty close to her period — I took the package I had prepared and drove to Bea’s new address. Her name on the letter box had been newly stenciled on a shiny black strip of cellulose, the last name only, the little darling — you know how single girls in big cities try to protect themselves by disguising their sex with initials or last names: the poor dears don’t realize that it’s a dead giveaway — along with her apartment number. I walked up the two flights and knocked on her door.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Giddons from Tiger’s.” The building was managed by Tiger’s Real Estate and there’s actually a Mr. Giddons who works there.
“What do you want?”
“We have a report there’s some structural damage in 3-E. I want to check the walls in your apartment.”
She opened the door, the trusting little cupcake. “It’s you.”
“‘All’s fair in love and war.’”
“What do you want?”
“I’m berserk,” I said, “amok with love. If you scream I’ll kill you.”
I moved into the room and closed the door behind me. What can I say? In the twentieth century there is no disgrace. It happened, so I’ll tell you.
I pushed her roughly and turned my back to her while I pulled on the rubber. As I rolled it on I shouted threats to keep her in line. “One false move and I’ll kill you. I’ve got a knife. Don’t go for the unlisted phone or I’ll slit you from ear to ear. I’ll cut your pupick out. Stay away from the window. No tricks. I love you. Bernie burns, the pharmacist on fire. Don’t double-cross me. If I miss you with the knife I’ll shoot your head with my bullets.” At last it was on. Still with my back to her I ordered her to stand still. “Don’t make a move. If you make a move I’ll strangle you with my bare hands. Don’t make a move or you die. I’m wearing a State Trooper. They’re the best. I’m smearing K-Y Petroleum Jelly on me. Everything the best, nothing but the best. All right,” I said, “almost through. I just have to take this box of Kleenex out of my package and the aerosol douche. I’m unfolding the Venus Folding Feminine Syringe. There: these are for you. Now.” I turned to her.
“My God!” I said.
She had taken off her dress and brassiere and had pulled down her panties.
“Oh God,” I gasped. “It’s so big!”
“I didn’t want you to rip my clothes,” she said softly.
“But your legs, your legs are so thin!”
“Pipestems.”
“And your poor frail arms.”
“Pipecleaners.”
“But my God, Bea. Down there! Down there you’re magnificent!”
I saw the vastnesses, the tropical rain forest that was her pubes, the swollen mons like a freshly made Indian tumulus, labia majora like a great inverted gorge, the lush pudendum.
“Fantastic!”
“I’ve the vulva of a giantess,” she said sadly.
I reached out and hid my hands up to the wrists in her pubic hair. As soon as I touched her I felt myself coming. “Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus. I love you — oo — oo — oo!” It was over. The sperm made a warm, independent weight in the bottom of my State Trooper. It swung against me like a third ball. “Oh God,” I sighed. “Oh dear. Oh my. Let me just catch my breath. Whew. Holy Cow! Great Scott!
“Okay,” I said in a few moments, “now you listen to me. I’m at your mercy. How can you throw a man in the hoosegow when you know as much about him as you do? I didn’t jump out at you from an alley or drag you into a car. Look—” I turned my pockets inside out— “I’m not armed. There’s no knife. I don’t carry a gun. These hands are trained. They fill prescriptions. Do you think they could strangle? Granted I threatened you, but I was afraid you’d scream. Look at it this way. I was protecting you. You’re just starting out in the neighborhood. It’s a first-class building. Would you want a scandal? And didn’t I take every precaution? Look at the douche. Everything the best that money can buy. And what did it come to in the end? I never even got close to you. To tell you the truth I thought it might happen just this way. It’s not like rape. I love you. How can you ruin a man who loves you? I’m no stranger. You know me. You know my wife’s name. I told you about my son. I’m a grandfather. Take a look at these pictures of my grandchildren. Did I ever show you these? This one’s Susan. Four years old and a little imp. Boy, does she keep her parents hopping! And this is Greg. Greg’s the thoughtful one. He’ll be the scholar. Are you going to put a grandfather in jail? You got me excited. Perk perks, the pharmacist in flames. I love you, but I’ll never bother you again. I had to, just this once. Give me a chance. It would break my wife’s heart to find out about me. Okay, they’d try to hush it up and maybe the grandkids would never hear about it, but what about my son? That’s another story.
“I’ll tell you something else. You’re the last. A man’s first woman is special, and so’s his last. He never gets over either of them. And how much time do you think I have left? You saw how I was. I can’t control it. I’ve had it as a man. I’m through. Give me a break, Bea. Don’t call the police. I love you. I’m your friend. Though I’ll let you in on a secret. I’d still be your friend in jail. All I really wanted was to see it. I still see it. I’m looking now. No, I’ll be honest: staring. I’m staring because I’ve never seen anything like it, and I want to remember it forever. Not that I’ll ever forget. I never will. Never.”