I said I’d hang around, all right, and I did, and we kept on sitting there and talking and having a fresh martini every once in a while, and about a quarter to eleven she got up and said, “I’ve got to get ready for my next spot now, honey. Don’t go away,” and that was a God-damn laugh because you couldn’t have drug me away from there with a team of mules, and I’ll admit that the gin was working on me pretty good and I had about three sheets in the wind. Candy came on and sang her songs, and she picked out the most suggestive one of all to sing right to me, and everyone could tell what she was doing, and a few people started to laugh and clap a little, and I sure didn’t give a damn. The song was one where some doll was in a hot spot with some guy, and she kept saying don’t and stop, and pretty soon she got to saying them so close together that it sounded like she was saying don’t stop, and I thought, Well, you can just bet your pretty tail I won’t.
When she’d finished singing, she disappeared for a while, and I had another martini on the house while I was waiting for her to show up, and when she came she was in a street dress instead of the long white one she’d been wearing, but I was so fogged up with gin by that time that I don’t remember just what it looked like except that it was enough to knock your eye out, just like all the other dresses she wore.
“You ready to go, honey?” she said, and I said I was and stood up and damn near fell on my face, and she laughed and said, “Who the hell’s taking who home?”
She took my arm, and we went out, and when we passed this guy Hershell Goans, he laughed and said, “Take good care of our basketball hero, baby,” and Candy said, “Oh, I’ll take care of him, all right,” and then we got outside on the sidewalk and walked down to where I’d parked the Crosley, and she said, “Well, isn’t it cute! Does it have an engine, or do you pump it with your feet?” and I said, “You just crawl in the God-damn seat, and I’ll show you if it’s got an engine or not,” and she said, “Nix, honey, I’m too young to die. You just crawl in like a good boy, and I’ll drive this gadget myself.”
I argued about it a little, but she said I’d damn well let her drive or we’d just call the whole thing off, and so finally I got in the seat and she went around and got under the wheel and drove us to the apartment house where she lived. It was a medium fancy place with one of these awning things running from the front entrance to the curb for you to walk under, and Candy pulled into a parking space at the curb just below the awning and cut the engine and said, “Look, honey, you’re in pretty bad shape. I’ve got an electric pot and some coffee upstairs. You want to come up with me, I’ll fix you up,” and I said, “Is that a promise?” and she laughed and patted my cheek and said, “My God, you’re about the busiest sophomore I ever ran into,” and I said I wasn’t any God-damn sophomore, but a junior, and she said, “Okay, Junior, come along,” which I did and had intended to do, anyhow, coffee or no coffee.
We went up in the elevator and down to her apartment and inside, and it was a nice place with some modern-looking furniture standing around on black wrought-iron legs. She was holding me by the arm when we went in, and as soon as the door closed behind us she swung around in front of me and put her arms up around my neck, and I put mine around her down where it counted for more, and we started kissing, and that went on for a while, and then she stepped back and laughed this shaky laugh and said, “Well, well, Junior, you’re not only cute, but talented. Maybe this caper will turn out to be more fun than business.”
I started to grab her again, but she put her hand against my chest and held me off and said, “Let’s build it up as we go along, Junior. It’s better that way,” and I thought I might as well play it by her rules and let her go, and she walked over toward a door that led into a bedroom and said over her shoulder, “Sit down and take it easy, honey. I’ll be back in a minute,” and it wasn’t much longer than that before she was, and I sat on a sofa and waited and thought about all the stories I’d read, especially about private eyes, how the doll walks off to the bedroom saying something like that and comes back pretty soon naked or in a God-damn thin robe or something, and I wondered if that was the way it was going to be with Candy, and hoped it was, but it wasn’t. She still had the same dress on and hadn’t done a damn thing to herself as far as I could see, and she walked over to a chest and took out a couple of bottles and glasses and mixed drinks and carried them over to me and handed me one and said, “Since you probably won’t be driving home tonight after all, we can just skip the coffee, can’t we?”
Well, I guess I was pretty tight, but I was still able to tell when I’d had an invitation, and I took the glass and said we sure as hell could, and she sat down beside me real close and said, “Tell me all about yourself,” and I couldn’t see a hell of a lot of use wasting time on it and said so, but she took a swallow of her drink and said, “For God’s sake, Junior, don’t push it so hard. We got all night.”
I took a big swallow of my drink and damn near choked to death, it was so damn strong, and my head got to going around and around all of a sudden, and I tried to think of some good lies to tell her about my family and who I was and everything, but I couldn’t seem to get going on it, and then I had this feeling that there wouldn’t be any percentage in telling lies about it to Candy, anyhow, because it wouldn’t make any damn difference to her at all like it might have made to old Marsha, and so I just told her the truth about everything, about the old man and the old lady and how I’d pushed the ladder over with Gravy Dummke on it, and she laughed and laughed and thought it was funny as hell. When I was finished I thought it might make me some points if I acted like I wanted to know everything about her, too, not that I cared a hell of a lot about it, and so I asked her to tell me all about her God-damn life and stuff, and she said, “Junior, I haven’t had any life. I just started to live when I met you tonight.”
This was bull, and I knew it, and she said, “Is your name really Skimmer?” and I said it sure as hell was and was her name really Candy, and she said, “Christ, no. Who the hell ever named a kid Candy?” and I asked her what her real name was, then, and she said it was Myrtle, if I wanted to know, but she’d changed it to Candy because who the hell would come to a cocktail lounge to hear a girl named Myrtle sing songs? I said as far as I was concerned I’d come to hear her sing if her name was Mud, and she said that was a sweet thing to say, and it got us started on a pretty good tussle that led from one thing to another, and pretty soon she stood up and said, “Let’s go in the other room,” meaning the bedroom, and I stood up to go and fell on my lousy face. She laughed and helped me up and into the bedroom and told me to sit down on the bed and she’d be right back. I sat down and heard her in the bathroom, and my head was going around this way, and I remember lying down on my back for just a second until she came, and damned if I didn’t pass out and not come to until the next day, which was the damnedest thing I ever did.
When I came around I was still lying on the God-damn bed, but I didn’t have anything on but my stinking shorts and was lying around the long way instead of crossways, and I had a hell of a headache, and my mouth tasted like I had my socks in it. No one was on the bed but me, but I could tell that someone had been on it, and there was a racket going on somewhere that turned out to be the shower in the bathroom, and pretty soon Candy came out in a blue robe and said, “Well, Junior, how you feeling?” and I said I felt like hell, a little from the gin and whisky, but mostly because I’d missed the lousy bus, and she said I sure as hell had and started to laugh about it.