Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr (2 page)

Heads popped from windows, people occurred in
doorways and from bars asking what happened and the cops yelled for
everybody to shutup then asked what was going on. The guys shrugged
and murmured. One of the cops started yelling the question again when
an MP and the 2 doggies who had continued running, holding the third
one suspended between them, head hanging limply, his toes dragging
along the ground, came up to them. The cop turned to them and asked
what this was all about. Those goddam yankees like takill our buddy
heuh, nodding to the soldier between them, his head rolling from side
to side, face and front of his uniform covered with blood and puke,
blood dribbling from his head. Freddy pointed at him and stepped
toward the cop and told him theres nothin wrong with him. Hes only
foolin. The guys raised their heads slightly and looked at Freddy and
chuckled and someone murmured hes got some pair of balls. The cop
looked at the soldier and told Freddy if hes fooling hes one hell of
an actor. The chuckling grew louder and a few in the crowd of
onlookers laughed. The cops told them to shut up. Now, what in the
hell is this all about. The doggies started to speak but Freddy
outshouted them. They insulted my wife. Someone said o jesus and
Freddy stared at the doggies waiting for them to say something so he
could call them a goddam liar. The cop asked him where his wife was
and he told him right over there. Hey Rosie! Cornerei She wentover,
her blouse hanging out, her hair hanging in lumps, lipstick smeared
from Freddys slap, her eyelashes matter and the heads of pimples
shining through many layers of old dirty makeup. We was standin on
the corner talkin when these three creeps started makin obscene
remarks to my wife and when I toldem ta shutup they came after me.
Aint that right? Yeah. They insulted me, the god— Yuh dirty hoarrr.
How could yawl be insulted??? Freddy started toward him but the cop
rapped him in the gut with his club and told him to take it easy. And
youd better watch your mouth soldier. All yuhgoddamn yankees are the
same. A buncha no good niggerlovin bastards. Thats all yuare. The cop
stepped over to the soldier and told him if he didnt shut up right
now hed lock him up, and your friend along with you. He stared at the
soldier until the doggie lowered his eyes, then turned to the crowd
and asked if anyone had seen what had happened and they yelled that
they saw the whole thing that the drunken rebels had started it, they
insulted the boys wife and tried to beat him up and the cop told them
ok, ok, shut up. He turned back to the soldiers and told them to get
back to the base and have someone look after their friend, then
turned to Freddy and the others and told them to beat it and if I see
any of you punks in a fight again I/ll personally split your skulls
and—Hey wait a minute. The cop turned as the MP walked up to him.
This aint going to be the end of this officer. These men have rights
and its my duty to remind them of them. They might want to prefer
charges against these hoodlums. What in hell are you? a Philadelphia
lawyer? No sir. Im just doing my duty and reminding these men of
their rights. Alright, you reminded them now go back to the base and
leave well enough alone. You know these neighborhood bars are off
limits. Yes sir, thats true, but—but nothing. The MP started
stammering something, then looked to the three soldiers for support,
but they had already started back to the Base, the two dragging the
third, blood splattering on the street as it fell from his head.

The bodies went back in the doors and bars and the
heads in the windows. The cops drove away and Freddy and the guys
went back into the Greeks and the

street was quiet, just the sound of a tug and an
occasional car; and even the blood couldnt be seen from a few feet
away.

They slammed around the lavatory washing, laughing,
nudging each other, roaring at Freddy, splashing water, inspecting
their shoes for scratches, ripping the dirty apron, pulling the
toiletpaper off by the yard, throwing the wet wads at each other,
slapping each other on the back, smoothing their shirts, going to the
mirror up front, combing their hair, turning their collars up in the
back and rolling them down in front, adjusting their slacks on their
hips. Hey, didya see the look on the bastards face when we threwim
off the fence? Yeah. The sonofabitch was scared shitless. A buncha
punks. Hey Freddy, hows ya gut. That was some rap that bastard
giveya. Shit. I fuck cops where they eat.. .

Someday you boys going to get in trouble. All the
time fighting. Whatayamean Alex. We was just de-fendin Freddys wife.
Yeah, they insulted Rosie. They roared, stamped, and banged their
fists on the counter and tables. Alex grinned and said Scatah.
Someday you be sorry. You should get a job. Hey, watch yalanguage
Alex. Yeah. No cursin in fronna married women. They laughed and
sprawled along the counter and on the chairs. All the time
fuckaround. Someday you get in trouble. Ah Alex, dont talk like that.
Ya makus feel bad. Yeah, man, ya hurt our feelings. . .
 
 

Part II
The
Queen Is Dead

So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God created he him;
male and female created he them.   
Genesis 1:27

GEORGETTE was a hip queer. She (he) didnt try to
disguise or conceal it with marriage and mans talk, satisfying her
homosexuality with the keeping of a secret scrapbook of pictures of
favorite male actors or athletes or by supervising the activities of
young boys or visiting Turkish baths or mens locker rooms, leering
sidely while seeking protection behind a carefully guarded guise of
virility (fearing that moment at a cocktail party or in a bar when
this front may start crumbling from alcohol and be completely
disintegrated with an attempted kiss or groping of an attractive
young man and being repelled with a punch and— rotten
fairy—followed with hysteria and incoherent apologies and excuses
and running from the room) but, took a pride in being a homosexual by
feeling intellectually and esthetically superior to those (especially
women) who werent gay (look at all the great artists who were
fairies!); and with the wearing of womens panties, lipstick, eye
makeup (this including occasionally gold and silver—Stardust— on
the lids), long marcelled hair, manicured and polished fingernails,
the wearing of womens clothes complete with padded bra, high heels
and wig (one of her biggest thrills was going to BOP CITY dressed as
a tall stately blond ( she was 6'4" in heels ) in the company of
a negro (He was a big beautiful black bastard and when he floated in
all the cats in the place jumped and the squares bugged. We were at a
crazy pad before going and were blasting like crazy and were up so
high that I just didnt give a shit for anyone honey, let me tell you!
) ) ; and the occasional wearing of a menstrual napkin.

She was in love with Vinnie and rarely came home
while he was in jail, but stayed uptown with her girl friends, high
most of the time on benzedrine and marijuana. She had come home one
morning with one of her friends after a three day tea party with her
makeup still on and her older brother slapped her across the face and
told her that if he ever came home like that again hed kill him. She
and her friend ran screaming from the house calling her brother a
dirty fairy. After that she always called to see if her brother was
in before going home.

Her life didnt revolve, but spun centrifugally,
around stimulants, opiates, johns (who paid her to dance for them in
womens panties then ripped them off her; bisexuals who told their
wives they were going out with the boys and spent the night with
Georgette ( she trying to imagine they were Vinnie) ), the freakish
precipitate coming to the top.

When she heard that Vinnie had been paroled she went
to Brooklyn (first buying 10 dozen benzedrine tablets) and sat in the
Greeks all night following Vinnie everywhere and trying to get him
alone. She bought him coffeeand, sat on his lap and asked him to go
for a walk. He would refuse and tell her theres plenty of time
sweetheart. Maybe later. Georgette would wiggle on his lap, play with
his earlobes feeling like a young girl on her first date. She looked
at him coquettishly. Let me do you Vinnie, forcing herself to refrain
from trying to kiss him, from embracing him, from caressing his
thighs, dreaming of the warmth of his groin, seeing him nude, holding
her head (not too gently), pressing close to him, watching his
muscles contract, running her fingertips gently along the tightened
thigh muscles (he might even groan at the climax); the feel, taste,
smell. . . . Please Vinnie, the dream almost carrying over to
consciousness, the benzedrine making it even more difficult not to
try to animate the dream now.

It wasnt fear of being rebuked or hit by him (that
could be developed in her mind into a lovers quarrel ending in a
beautiful reconciliation) that restrained her, but she knew if done
in the presence of his friends (who tolerated more than accepted her,
or used her as a means to get high when broke or for amusement when
bored) his pride would force him to abjure her completely and then
there would not only be no hope, but, perhaps no dream. She put her
hand tentatively on the back of his neck twisting the short hairs.
She jumped up as he pushed her, and giggled as he patted her on the
buttox. She strutted over to the counter. May I please have another
cup of coffee Alex? you big Greek fairy. She put another benzedrine
tablet in her mouth and swallowed it with the coffee; put a nickel in
the jukebox and started wiggling as a tenor sax wailed a blues
number. Some of the others in the Greeks clapped in time to the music
and yelled, Go Georgette, Go! She put her hands behind her head,
ellipsed her pelvis slowly and—bumped— up to one of the girls who
was laughing at her and threw her hip in her face. Heres one for you,
you big bitch. When the music stopped she sat on a stool at the
counter, finished her coffee, spun around a few times on the stool,
stopped, stood up holding her hands delicately in front of her in the
dramatic manner of a concert singer and sang un bel di in a wavering
falsetto. Someone laughed and said she should go on the stage. You
have a nice voice Geòrgie. Yeah, from the same girl, fa callin hogs.
Georgette turned, put her hands on her hips, leaned her head to one
side and looked at her disdainfully. What would you know about opera
Miss Cocksucker? She threw her head back and sauntered out to the
street in her finest regal fashion.

Vinnie was 12 the first time he was arrested. He had
stolen a hearse. He was so short that he had to slide down in the
seat so far to reach the pedals that a cop standing on a corner
looking at the hearse, stopped for a redlight, thought the cab was
empty. The cop was so surprised when he opened the door and saw
Vinnie behind the wheel that he had almost shifted the gears and
started moving before the cop realized what was happening and pulled
him out. The judge was just as surprised as the arresting officer and
had some difficulty suppressing a laugh while reprimanding Vinnie and
making him promise never to do such a bad thing again. Go home and be
a good boy.

Two days later he stole another car. This time with
friends who were older and better able to drive a car without
attracting too much attention. They would keep a car, driving to
school when they went, until it ran out of gas then leave it and
steal another. They were caught many times, but Vinnie was always
released after promising not to do it again. He was so young, looking
even younger, and innocent looking that it was impossible for a judge
to think of him as a criminal and they were hesitant about sending
him to an institution where he might learn to be a thief rather than
just a mischievous boy. When he was 15 and arrested for the 11th time
he was sent to a correctional institution for boys. When he was
released a representative of a social organization talked with him
and asked him to visit their boys club in the neighborhood. Vinnie
had grown during the last year and took great pride in his ability to
fight better than other kids his age and better than most who were
older. After starting a few fights at the boys club for kicks he
stopped going and another invitation was never extended.

He was sent up for his first real bit when he was 16.
He had stolen a car and was speeding along Ocean Parkway (he wanted
to see how fast the car could go in case he had to outrun the law)
and crackedup. His only injury was a gash in his head. An ambulance
and the police were called. The ambulance attendant bandaged his head
and told the policemen he was well enough to be taken to the police
station. Vinnie still wasnt fully aware of what had happened as the 2
policemen helped him up the steps of the stationhouse, but he knew
they were cops. He pushed one down the steps, punched the other
knocking him down, and ran. Possibly he might have gotten away, but
he went to the Greeks and displayed the gash in his head to his
friends telling them how he dumped the two cops.

He was permitted to plead guilty to a misdemeanor and
was sentenced to 1 to 3 years.

He seemed to enjoy the time he spent in jail. While
there he tattooed his number on his wrist with a pin and ink and
displayed it to everyone when he came home. He went straight to the
Greeks when he was paroled, sitting there all night telling stories
about the things he did while doing time. Many of the others in the
Greeks had been in the same prison and they talked about the guards,
the work, the yard and their cells. The day after his release 3
gunmen were shot attempting to stickup a store. One died instantly
and the other 2 were in the hospital in critical condition. When he
heard about it he bought a paper, cut the story and pictures out and
carried them with him for days, until they finally fell apart from
handling, telling everyone that they were friends of his. I did time
with them guys. Yaknow this guy Steve who got killed? He was my boy.
He was on the same bench with me. Me and him was real tight man. We
ran the yard up there. We was the gees on the first bench and what we
said was law. We even got sent to the hole tagether. A couplea creeps
wouldnt giveus the packages they got from home so we dumpedem. Im
tellinya, we was real tight man.