They sat down. I was in a chair near the window and Valerie sat between Bobby and Katherine on the couch. Bobby began. He bent forward and ignoring Valerie directed his attention to Katherine.
"Do you like Los Angeles?" he asked.
"It's all right," answered Katherine.
"Are you going to stay here much longer?"
"A while longer."
"You're from Texas?"
"Yes."
"Are your parents from Texas?"
"Yes."
"Anything good on t.v. out there?"
"It's about the same."
"I've got an uncle in Texas."
"Oh."
"Yes, he lives in Dallas."
Katherine didn't answer. Then she said, "Excuse me, I'm going to make a sandwich. Does anybody want anything?"
We said we didn't. Katherine got up and went into the kitchen. Bobby got up and followed her. You couldn't quite hear his words, but you could tell that he was asking more questions. Valerie stared at the floor. Katherine and Bobby were in the kitchen a long time. Suddenly Valerie raised her head and began talking to me. She spoke very rapidly and nervously.
"Valerie," I stopped her, "we needn't talk, we don't have to talk."
She put her head down again.
Then I said, "Hey, you guys have been in there a long time. Are you waxing the floor?"
Bobby laughed and began tapping his foot in rhythm on the floor.
Finally Katherine came out followed by Bobby. She walked over to me and showed me her sandwich: peanut butter on cracked wheat with sliced bananas and sesame seeds.
"It looks good," I told her.
She sat down and began eating her sandwich. It became quiet. It remained quiet. Then Bobby said, "Well, I think we'd better go…"
They left. After the door closed Katherine looked at me and said, "Don't think anything, Hank. He was just trying to impress me."
"He's done that with every woman I've known since I've known him."
The phone rang. It was Bobby. "Hey, man, what have you done to my wife?"
"What's the matter?"
"She just sits here, she's completely depressed, she won't talk!"
"I haven't done anything to your wife."
"I don't understand it!"
"Goodnight, Bobby."
I hung up.
"It was Bobby," I told Katherine. "His wife is depressed."
"Really?"
"It seems so."
"Are you sure you don't want a sandwich?"
"Can you make me one just like yours?"
"Oh, yes."
"I'll take it."
40
Katherine stayed 4 or 5 more days. We had reached the time of the month when it was risky for Katherine to fuck. I couldn't stand rubbers. Katherine got some contraceptive foam. Meanwhile, the police had recovered my Volks. We went down to where it was impounded. It was intact and in good shape except for a dead battery. I had it hauled to a Hollywood garage where they put it in order. After a last goodbye in bed I drove Katherine to the airport in the blue Volks, TRV 469.
It wasn't a happy day for me. We sat not saying much. Then they called her flight and we kissed.
"Hey, they all saw this young girl kissing this old man."
"I don't give a damn…"
Katherine kissed me again.
"You're going to miss your flight," I said.
"Come see me, Hank. I have a nice house. I live alone. Come see me."
"I will."
"Write!"
"I will…"
Katherine walked into the boarding tunnel and was gone.
I walked back to the parking lot, got in the Volks, thinking, I've still got this. What the hell, I haven't lost everything.
It started.
41
That evening I started drinking. It wasn't going to be easy without Katherine. I found some things she had left behind- earrings, a bracelet.
I've got to get back to the typewriter, I thought. Art takes discipline. Any asshole can chase a skirt. I drank, thinking about it.
At 2:10 am the phone rang. I was drinking my last beer.
"Hello?"
"Hello." It was a woman's voice, a young woman.
"Yes?"
"Are you Henry Chinaski?"
"Yes."
"My girlfriend admires your writing. It's her birthday and I told her I'd phone you. We were surprised to find you in the phonebook."
"I'm listed."
"Well, it's her birthday and I thought it might be nice if we could come to see you."
"All right."
"I told Arlene that you probably had women all over the place."
"I'm a recluse."
"Then it's all right if we come over?"
I gave them the address and directions.
"Only one thing, I'm out of beer."
"We'll get you some beer. My name's Tammie."
"It's after 2 am."
"We'll get some beer. Cleavage can work wonders."
They arrived in 20 minutes with the cleavage but without the beer.
"That son-of-a-bitch," said Arlene. "He always gave it to us before. This time he seemed scared."
"Fuck him," said Tammie.
They both sat down and announced their ages.
"I'm 32," said Arlene.
"I'm 23," said Tammie.
"Add your ages together," I said, "and you've got me."
Arlene's hair was long and black. She sat in the chair by the window combing her hair, making up her face, looking into a large silver mirror, and talking. She was obviously high on pills. Tammie had a near-perfect body and long natural red hair. She was on pills too, but wasn't as high.
"It will cost you $100 for a piece of ass," Tammie told me.
"I'll pass."
Tammie was hard like so many women in their early twenties. Her face was shark-like. I disliked her, right off.
They left around 3:30 am and I went to bed alone.
42
Two mornings later, at 4 am, somebody beat on the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's a redheaded floozie."
I let Tammie in. She sat down and I opened a couple of beers.
"I've got bad breath, I have these two bad teeth. You can't kiss me."
"All right."
We talked. Well, I listened. Tammie was on speed. I listened and looked at her long red hair and when she was preoccupied I looked and looked at that body. It was bursting out of her clothing, begging to get out. She talked on and on. I didn't touch her.
At 6 am Tammie gave me her address and phone number.
"I've got to go," she said.
"I'll walk you to your car."
It was a bright red Camaro, completely wrecked. The front was smashed in, one side was ripped open and the windows were gone. Inside were rags and shirts and Kleenex boxes and newspapers and milk cartons and Coke bottles and wire and rope and paper napkins and magazines and paper cups and shoes and bent colored drinking straws. This mass of stuff was piled above seat level and covered the seats. Only the driver's area had a little clear space.
Tammie stuck her head out the window and we kissed.
Then she tore away from the curb and by the time she reached the corner she was doing 45. She did hit the brakes and the Camaro bobbed up and down, up and down. I walked back inside.
I went to bed and thought about her hair. I'd never known a real redhead. It was fire.
Like lightning from heaven, I thought.
Somehow her face didn't seem to be as hard anymore…
43
I phoned her. It was 1 am. I went over.
Tammie lived in a small bungalow behind a house.
She let me in.
"Be quiet. Don't wake Dancy. She's my daughter. She's 6 years old and she's asleep in the bedroom."
I had a 6-pack of beer. Tammie put it in the refrigerator and came out with two bottles.
"My daughter mustn't see anything. I still have the two bad teeth which makes my breath bad. We can't kiss."