Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr (6 page)

and the strange rhythms of the Bird ripped to her,
the piling patterns of sound all falling properly and articulately
into place, and there was no wonderment at the Bird blowing love.

Then it was over and the background music came in and
Georgette looked up and her eyes cleared as she saw the sick look in
Harrys eyes as he looked at Rosies snatch. Her legs were raised and
she rested her head on her knees staring at a spot on the rug,
waiting, as always, for Goldie to speak and she would jump. Georgette
turned her head and tried to think the Bird back into her mind, but
she slowly turned her head back, unable to ignore Rosie, or avoid
thinking about her. Rosie had always been more than taken for
granted—she had never been thought of. Not even as a demented
human, but as a scooper: someone to scoop up the empties; to buy the
bennie; to meet the connection . . . Georgette looked at the spot on
the rug, then back at Rosies face. Who was Rosie? What? Did she
think? What did she feel? She must feel something or why would she
stay with Goldie? Had she ever loved? Was she ever loved? Could she
love? Georgette looked at the leer on Harrys face, the lust breaking
through the junk facade. If Rosie were to move Harry would jump up
and lay her right there—hold her arms, bend over her with his
leering face next to hers ( spit dribbling from his mouth) and shove
it in if he had to fight for—Georgette lifted her head so she
couldnt see his face. If Harry did have sex with her would she enjoy
it? Would Rosie feel anything? Did she ever think of it? Did she ever
long for love??? An analogy started to form and Georgette had to
fight it, she had to fight before it defined itself or she would not
be able to ignore or deny it. She popped more bennie and gulped gin.
She almost puked from the gin and in panic ht a cigarette and sat
still, smoking, until the nausea passed (the analogy becoming
fainter) then turned up the radio and concentrated on the music,
snapping her fingers, looking at Vinnie and hoping the bennie would
soon overtake the tea and Vinnie would get with it.

Camille asked Georgette what the name of the number
was that was being played, saying she liked it very much, and
Georgette told her, and who was blowing and Camille started moving
slightly in time with the music and Lee turned to her and told her
not to wiggle like a slut in heat. And I really dont see how you can
listen to that trashy music Georgette. You who love Opera so much. O
really Miss Thing—Camille moved back and sat still—take the
icecube out of your ass. Vinnie laughed and Georgette turned to him,
coyly, turning the volume up a little more and marked one up on Lee,
took a drink of gin and when the record ended and another came on she
asked Camille if she liked it, digging the glance she directed at
Lee—well dont look at me honey. Its your bad taste not mine—and
Camille wished she new what to say, if she liked it or not (did she
like it?), looked at Sal and shivered again. Its alright, I guess
(would he be as rough as he looks?).

The phone rang and Goldie tapped Rosie on the head
and she jumped up and answered it, then turned to Goldie and said it
was Sheila. Goldie listened, said yes and hung up. Shes coming home
with an all night John so we will have to go down to Miss Tonys. O
that place is loathsome. Well Lee, you can always go home, if you
have one. Rosie, heat up the bouillon. O I think youre awful, living
with a woman. O youre just jealous Lee. Why dont you just go about
your own business Georgette. Honestly Goldie, I really dont see how
you do it, even if she does support you and keep you in bennie. I
think that that is my business Miss Lee. Hey, whats all this bullshit
about? Were going downstairs to someone elses apartment. That is if
its alright with you Harold. I honestly dont see how you can have sex
with her Goldie. Or do you only eat it? O O OOO. Goldie flew from the
room and Rosie spit at Lee and ran after her. O for heavens sake,
dont be so touchy. The guys started stirring and digging the scene,
but didnt know from nothin, so they just shrugged and Georgette
looked after Goldie and inquired if she was alright and Camille was
much taken aback, after all this is not the way ladies should act.
And Lee is supposed to be so elegant. This sort of thing never
happened back home. But it is exciting and he is so manly; and Lee
said she was terribly sorry, I didnt mean to upset you dear. Its just
that Tonys place is so dreary, with the electricity turned off and
everything, and I guess I just have the rag on tonight anyway, so
they kissed and made up, and they all helped finish the bouillon
(with a few more bennie) gathered the gin and bennie and went
downstairs, the guys stumbling behind, not sure exactly what was
happening but having kicks and too high to care, and walked into
Tonys apartment.

She was sleeping so Goldie lit a few candles and told
her Sheila was turning a trick so they had to come down here and Im
sure you dont mind honey, handing her some bennie, and told Rosie to
make coffee. Rosie ht the small kerosene stove in the kitchen and put
on a pot of coffee. When it was ready she passed out paper cups of
coffee then went back to the kitchen and made another pot, continuing
to make pot after pot of coffee, coming in inbetween to sit at
Goldies feet. The guys slowly snapped out of the tea goof and soon
the bennie got to their tongues too and everybody yakked. Goldie said
she felt ever so much better. I guess I needed a good cry and she
passed around the bennie again and they all popped bennie and sipped
hot coffee and Goldie sat next to Malfie and asked him if he was
enjoying himself, and he said yeah, Im havin a ball; and Goldie just
floated along on a soft purple cloud, feeling luxurious and slightly
smug: a handsome piece of trade beside her; wonderful girl friends;
and a beautiful bennie connection in the corner drugstore where she
could get a dozen 10 grain tablets for 50cents. O this is divine. I
mean the candlelight and everything . . . it brings to mind Genet.
Genet? I fail to see how this reminds you of her. Whose this junay? A
french writer Vinnie. I am certain you would not know about such
things—I really dont see how all this gloom reminds you of Genet
(Georgette looked at Lee as she talked and glanced at Vinnie and
sighed. Vinnie will never have anything to do with her after that
remark). I mean she is so beautiful. Well that is exactly what I mean
darling. She creates such beauty out of the tortured darkness of our
souls—O well, yes. That is true enough—and I feel so beautiful.
Hey! wheres the shithouse. Georgette jumped up (Camille was shocked
and looked askance) and said it is outside. I will show you. Vinnie
walked past her, patted her on the ass. Thats o k sweetchips, I can
find it. Georgette whirled slightly and sat down, smiling and
chalking another one up. O it will be so wonderful . . . later. Rosie
was passing more coffee around and Harry asked her if she blew cock
and she fell back spilling some of the coffee. Goldie told her to be
more careful, you might have burned someone, and Rosie wailed and
buried her head in Goldies lap and Goldie told her it was alright.
Nobody was hurt. You can continue serving the coffee, and Rosie
smiled a smile of salvation and stepped over the feet and passed out
the coffee; and Georgette looked at the tears slowly streaking Rosies
face and glistening in the sepia room; and Harry thought it might be
kicks ta sloff it inna weird dame like that. Whattsa matta Rosie?
afraida my lob? Rosie backed out of the room and Harry laughed and
asked the guys if they saw the look oner face. Man, shes a real
weirdy. Whered yapick that up? Goldie said she found her somewhere
and Camille went out to the kitchen to see if Rosie was alright,
thinking Harry was terribly cruel and Goldie should not let them do
that to her. She did not see Rosie immediately and stared at the low
blue flame of the kerosene stove, the perking coffee looking like a
witches brew. Then she saw Rosie sitting in the corner, her head
resting on her knees. Camille was nervous, but felt she should try to
comfort her. She called softly, tentatively, then stood silent for a
moment listening to the coffee perking, the strong rhythm broken
every third or fourth beat with a double beat, then she looked back
in the living room and everyone was talking, drinking (Georgette
seemed to have been watching her), and when she caught Sals eye she
blushed and turned back to Rosie and called her again. Rosie sat in
the corner with her head on her knees. Camille walked over to her,
carefully avoiding the stove, asked if she was alright. Why dont you
come back inside Rosie, lightly touching her shoulder. Rosie jerked
her head around, bit Camilles hand, looked at her for a moment then
put her head back on her knees. Camille screeched and ran back to the
living room clutching her injured hand, extending it before her. She
bit me, she bit me, that crazy little thing. She turned in a circle,
arms still stiffly extended, jumping up and down. What thefucks wrong
wit you? O she bit me. O for heavens sake Camille sit down. Sit down.
O she bit me. Shaddup. Harry pushed her and she fell on Lee and they
screeched and tried to right themselves, but Camille kept falling
down as she tried to push herself up then remembered her hand and
halfway up she would try to clutch it and fall again, her arms
whirling in the air and she rolled off Lee and Lee fought frantically
to keep her skirts down, all the time yelling at Camille to get off
her and Camille finally raised herself to her knees and grabbed the
elusive hand and searched for the teeth marks. Dont worry little
girl, yawont get the rabyz. Lee sat up and smoothed her skirt and
threw Camille a vicious glance, O really Miss Thing, and took a
mirror from her pocketbook, examined her face then dove in her
pocketbook and extracted her comb, cosmetics and hurredly fixed her
face. Camille finally sat down and continued to examine her finger,
completely ignoring the laughter. O it was terrible. All I did was
try to speak to her and she bit me. She bit me like----like some kind
of animal. O it was terrible. Why didntya biter back? She/d get the
crud. Here, dipit in the hot coffee. Goldie was laughing as hard as
the rest but managed to lean over and offer solace and bennie. O yes,
please. She brought me down something dreadful. O . . . she scooped
up the bennie and dropped them in her mouth (with her good hand) then
picked up her coffee (with her good hand) and took a few tiny sips
until the bennie were down. Hey, what time does the next show start?
They were all laughing, except Camille, and Lee only sneered at
first, but when she finished putting her face on she too relaxed and
joined the party, each new remark bringing forth a loud guffaw and
refined laughter; Camille sitting with a peevish look on her face;
but the boys were having a ball, not too sure what they were laughing
about, but really digging the bennie scene, enjoying the cold chills
and the strange feeling in their jaws as they clenched and ground
their teeth (Harry wondering if maybe he oughtta go out to the
kitchen and straighten Rosie out); Georgette content to relax and
laugh ( she was 3 up on Lee ) yet still watchful for an opportunity
to regain the center of attraction; and Goldie was ethereal . . .
things were going so well and she was atingle with anticipation; but
poor Camille felt ashamed and tried to relax and laugh it off but O
it was so terribly embarrassing. She had carried on so; and Lee was
determined to maintain her aloofness (yet she did not want to
estrange herself from Goldie ), the aloofness that her beauty and
position demanded. The laughter continued even after they were too
breathless from laughing to continue dropping remarks, and Goldie
called for more coffee and Rosie made the rounds once more and
retired to the kitchen and started a new pot and sat in the corner
with her head on her knees. Goldie counted the bennie determining
that there would be enough left for a few rounds (and by then the
drugstore would be open) and handed more out. Vinnie asked for some
gin (spurts of giggling still coming forth) and Georgette offered her
glass but Vinnie refused (the code forbids drinking from the same
glass as a fag) so she filled a paper cup for him, hoping this would
not alter the score and glanced at Lee but she did not seem to
notice; and Tony said thank you after taking a bennie and wondered if
they would share their trade with her and trying desperately to think
of something to say or do that would draw everyones attention to her
and make them aware of her presence and perhaps Goldie would be
grateful and one of the men would find her attractive. She looked
around the room, smiling and rapidly blinking her eyes . . . then
jumped up and jerked open a drawer and took out a new candle. She
slammed the drawer closed and tripped lightly to the candle that was
burned to the bottom, lit the new one and placed it carefully over
the old one. There, that is much better, then sat down happily and
beaming at Goldie certain she would appreciate the act.

Everyone stared at the new candle and the shadows the
jerking flame created, still speaking softly, still smoking, still
sipping coffee and gin; watching the top soften and the first little
drop of wax seep to the edge and stagger down the side of the candle,
the wick glowing brighter and redder in the middle of the flame . . .
then another drop rolled to the first; and another started a new
stream as the flame bent and the edge sloped away and soon many
little drops were rolling down and piling up and flowing down the
side of the candle and everyone relaxed even more, calmed by the new
flame and slightly enervated by the laughing, and they sat deeper in
their seats and the guys stretched their legs even more and the girls
became softer and more coy; and their eyes eventually strayed from
the flame and everything seemed softer and even Lee felt she was a
part of the group and turned in her seat and faced the others and
started telling little tidbits about backstage life and soon they all
joined in and when someone was not talking they were listening to two
or three stories being told at once. Lee told them about how almost
all actors are gay (and even most of the church officials—and you
know who honey), and how the cast of one of the revues she was
starring in were pickedup and the club closed because they were all
blasting backstage— and their hands fluttered about and the guys
flipped their ashes—and I am telling you it was a scream. Caldonia
was just so high—I mean she had been drinking like crazy for hours
and she struts around Broadway and 45th st. crowing like a rooster,
COCKadoodledo COCKadoodledo—Im not shittinya, he was caught fuckin
a stiff. He was in the El witme. He worked inna hospital, you know,
in the morgue, and this nice lookin young head croaks so he throws a
hump inner—Rosie refilled all the cups and ran back to the kitchen
when Harry lunged for her snatch, and sat in the corner with her head
on her knees—well, you think you have weird Johns . . . well, I
have one that makes me beat him with his belt—O that is just
masochism honey— O I know that, but I have to be wearing a bra—ice
blue with lace and panties to match, and stockings and a garter belt
and he rubs his hands up and down my legs and snaps the garters until
I am just black and blue and by the time he comes I can hardly move
my arm—we got a weirdy like that in the neighborhood. He owns a
beauty shop in the 80s on third and comes around a couple a nights a
week— yeah, yeah, I know the guy. Hes got a new Dodge. Green. Yeah.
And he picks up somea the kids and takesem for a ride and paysem a
quarter ta fart—Tony kept leaning forward more and more, listening,
laughing, making certain that each one was aware that she was
listening to their story and enjoying it; trying to think of some
little anecdote she could tell, some funny little thing that had
happened or she had seen ... or even something in a movie . . . she
refilled her glass with gin, smiling at Goldie; nodded, smiled,
laughed, still trying to think of something funny, even slightly
humorous, thumbing through years of memories and finding nothing—Well
how about Leslie?—O!!! that filthy thing—she goes through Central
Park about 5 in the morning looking for used condums and sucks them.
Holy Krist. Well I have a john who makes me throw golfballs— we had
a kid upstate who stuck a life magazine up his ass and couldnt get it
out. The—O I love the ones who almost cry when they are finished
and start telling you about how much they love their wife and
kiddies. And when they take out the pic—O I hate those freaks—Hey,
how about that guy the Spook met in the Village that night who gaveim
10 bucks for his left shoe. The Spook toldim he could havem both for
10 bucks and his socks too—Goldie kept looking at Malfie and the
way his hair waved back into a thick d a; and Georgette leaned closer
to Vinnie and everyone seemed so close, as if they belonged to and
with each other and everything was wonderful—Did Francene ever tell
you about that Arab she met one night? Well honey, he just fucked her
until she thought she would turn insideout. O, that must have been
divine.—Camille looked nervously at Sal—It is so refreshing to
meet a man who will give you a good fucking. Yes honey, but she
almost had to have a hysterectomy. O was she—We had this here guy—