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‘She was in a cabin. She vanished — clothes, luggage, everything.’

‘Yeah,’ Simms said, as if he were confirming the facts of his own situation. ‘It ain’t like Lois. She woulda told me. She would of at least called. I know she would of called.’

‘What was she doing at Barter’s place?’ I asked.

Simms studied me. ‘She... had a job there.’

‘What kind of a job?’

‘A job.’

‘That doesn’t answer me.’

‘It’s not supposed to,’ Simms said indignantly. ‘Listen, I’m gonna marry that girl.’

‘What’s that got to do with her job?’

‘A lot. Listen, I took enough baloney about Lois. I don’t happen to care what she done. I don’t believe in that stuff.’

‘What stuff?’

‘About what a girl done or she didn’t do. She loves me now, so what difference does it make? We’re gonna get married. She’ll make a good wife.’

‘She probably will.’

‘I know she will. She’s the sweetest kid in the world. And she pleases me. I know, ‘cause I been to bed with her.’

‘I didn’t ask.’

‘I’m telling you, anyway,’ Simms paused. ‘I been to bed with her.’ He paused again. ‘Now you’re supposed to say “You and a thousand other guys.” ’

‘But I didn’t say it,’ I said.

Simms seemed surprised. ‘No, you didn’t,’ he said. He poured himself another drink. ‘You sure you don’t want one?’

‘Too early in the day for me.’

‘I thought maybe you was one of these guys who don’t touch it.’

‘No,’ I said.

‘Well, I thought maybe you was.’ He looked at me. ‘Cheers.’ And he threw off the shot. ‘You want to know how I feel?’ he asked.

‘About what?’

‘Dames.’

‘Sure.’

‘I don’t buy this stuff.’

‘Which stuff?’

‘What they done and what they didn’t do. You know what’s wrong with people?’

‘No, what?’

‘We all the time forget we’re animals. We got minds, but we’re also animals. So everything we do, we try to disguise we’re animals. A guy meets a dame, something happens. In the songs, they say chemistry. It ain’t chemistry. It’s biology. Animals. Like when two dogs meet on the street, he don’t ask her she wants a martini or she wants to see his etchings. They know what it’s all about. They don’t have love stories to read, and love movies to see. They don’t get mixed up. The mutt knows, and the bitch knows, and they make it. Period.’

‘What line of work are you in, Simms?’

‘I drive a truck. For a beer company.’

‘I thought you might be a vet.’

‘I am. I used to be a Marine.’

‘I meant a veterinarian.’

‘That I ain’t.’ Simms thought about it. ‘You mean because of the animals? I get a lot of time to think when I’m driving. You know what it is people hate to do most?’

‘What?’

‘You sure you don’t want a drink?’

‘I’m positive.’

‘I’ll have another, if you don’t mind. I tell you the truth, this thing has me kind of puzzled. A few drinks usually set me straight.’ He poured and drank. ‘What was I saying?’

‘About what people hate to do most.’

‘Oh. Yeah. They hate to touch other people.’

‘They do?’

‘They don’t really. I mean, I think what they’d like to do most is touch other people. But they’re afraid to. You know why?’

‘Why?’

‘Because then it gets animal. Instead, they reach out with their minds. Mister, you can only reach so far with your head.’

‘That’s for sure.’

‘How do you tell another guy you’re his friend?’

‘I don’t know. How?’

‘You shake hands with him. You touch him.’

‘That has a medieval origin,’ I said. ‘Men shook hands so they’d know the other man wasn’t carrying a dagger in his hand.’

‘Origin, shmorigin. They touch hands, and for a second they’re saying we’re animals. Then they pull the hand back. With a man and a woman, it’s the same. Listen, don’t you see this is all bullshit?’

‘What is?’

‘You can sit down with another guy’s wife for three hours. You can talk all around what you really want to do, you can talk it inside out and backwards, upside down and right side up, so long as you got a drink in your hands, and so long as you keep smiling at each other. A big game. Everybody plays it. But put your hand on her knee, or put your arm around her shoulder, bang! Her husband comes in and starts yelling you’re seducing his wife! For Christ’s sake, you been seducing her for the past three hours, anyway! It don’t make sense.’

‘Hardly anything does.’

‘But this especially. What I’m saying is this. There’s like a big taboo, you understand? This taboo says, “Don’t touch!” It applies from when you’re kids just dating, to when you’re married, to when you got one foot in the grave. Marriage makes touching all right. When you’re married, you get to be one person. You got no secrets, anyway. You belch, you yell, “Hey, I got to get into that John!” you spill things at the dinner table — in other words you share with another person the secret that you are only an animal with a mind. So the masterminds figured out where if you’re belching, you might just as well be touching. But that’s where the taboo is lifted, and no place else. And I say the taboo is a big crock.’

‘What are you really trying to say, Simms?’

‘I’m trying to say I’m gonna marry a prostitute. A whore. A harlot. A hooker. A slut. Me. I’m gonna marry one. I love her, and screw you.’

‘I’ve got no objections.’

‘It wouldn’t make a damn if you did. I wouldn’t even care if you was one of the guys rolled with her, now what do you think of that?’

‘I think it’s an admirable attitude.’

‘There ain’t nothin’ admirable about it. It’s common sense. She’s been touched, and the others ain’t. Who cares? Who knows these other guys? What the hell did she give them but her body? You see what the trouble with everybody is?’

‘No. What?’

‘They got it figured out so that the cheapest thing you can give to another person is your mind. You sit around and bullshit, and you’re dishing out little chunks of your mind. They got it figured so that the big premium is on your body. This is the thing you don’t give away without a struggle to the death. Well, mister, they got it figured out all bass-ackwards. I can be made, I admit it. But I’m careful about who I give what’s up here.’ He tapped his temple. ‘Up here is what counts. The rest is all animals.’

‘You sound as if you’re contradicting yourself,’ I said.

‘Maybe I am. Who cares? You want a drink?’

‘No. Tell me about Lois.’

‘A doll,’ Simms said. ‘Listen, I been around, and this is a doll.’

‘What’s she like?’

‘A doll. Didn’t you understand me? What’s a doll — but a doll?’

‘Brunette?’

‘Yeah. That means black hair, don’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Brunette,’ Simms said, nodding.

‘Eyes?’

‘Of course.’

‘The color, I meant.’

‘Oh. Brown. Like candy kisses.’

‘Short? Tall?’

‘Bigger than me. Some guys this would disturb. Me, it don’t. I say it don’t matter how tall a guy is, so long as he feels big. I’m only five-eight. This is a shrimp nowadays. You meet guys are six-four. A generation of basketball players. I know some short guys, everything about them gets short. You can give me two guys, both five-six, put them in the same room together. One guy looks like a midget. The other guy, you never even stop to think how tall or how short he is. You think a mutt ever stops and wonders how tall another mutt is? You ever see a Chihuahua male pause before trying to mount a Great Dane bitch? Never happened, mister. Lois is tall, and I like her tall. When we go out together, she wears whatever kind of shoes she wants Flats, heels, it makes no difference to me. She wears whatever makes her feel best, whatever makes her feel beautiful. And when she feels beautiful, I feel handsome. I feel big. I don’t need no built-up shoes. All I need is her on my arm. And also, she fills up a bed. I like a bed that’s all filled up. I don’t like empty corners.’