Last Night at the Blue Angel (28 page)

Well
, I asked Giddy Mary,
do you want the nine dollars or don't you?

A
fter that, David bought us lunch at a diner. I had a hamburger and a Coke float.

You feeling better?
he asked.

Yes. I'm perfectly fine
.

I didn't think you stole from me
.

I know what you thought
.

Honestly
,
all I can think about right now is you singing. For me. At my club. You clean up good
,
you got chops
.

I shrugged and told him,
I'm going to be famous someday. I'm going to be on the cover of an album. Maybe lots of them
.

He tilted his head.

I wiped my mouth with my napkin and continued,
So it doesn't really matter what happens next. It's all going to the same place. This creek or that creek. Same place in the end
.

I see
, he said.
If you're going to be famous someday
,
you might need to work on your social skills
.

C
aroline was at the club when we returned. Her face stubborn, she eyed me up and down and asked to speak to David alone.

For the next week we were all extra polite to one another because she and David had worked it out, whatever it was. They got back on their relationship like you get on a new horse—slow, hand on the pommel like it'll save your life, hoping he's going to be fine and he is until a leaf falls in front of him or a turkey bellows and he throws you off into a fence. That was their love. Always about to throw them into a fence. I watched Caroline. How she moved, lit her cigarette. I watched David watch Caroline, took note of what caused him to stare at her—Caroline walking across the room, Caroline drinking straight from the faucet on the kitchen sink.

I told Sister.
David and his girl are back together again
,
so that helps
.
I love singing more and more. It makes me feel like a better person than I am. You gave me this
, I told her.
Thank you. Also
,
please write me sometime. It doesn't have to be long
,
just a word. Maybe when the boss lets you out of that cell
,
you can come get me?

Most days I tried to help Caroline in the bar but the looks she gave kept me at arm's length.

Once Elaine started singing, everything else fell away. I sank into her voice every night. Sometimes I would catch David watching me and Caroline watching him. Then there would be a big display on David's part—a squeeze for Caroline or a pat on the bottom.
My girl
, he'd say to his friends. I watched it like I was a spider on the high shelf where the expensive stuff was stowed.

I
t was very late one night, Elaine was done singing, the jukebox was playing, and chairs and tables had been shoved aside for dancing, when Caroline's other man came in, drunk and hollering. The crowd divided almost evenly between those who wanted to scatter out the door and those who were just waiting to hop on the coattails of someone else's rage, to get a few swings in. One fella hit another and set the whole thing off. Sloppy swings because of the booze, stumbling, scary at times, and funny, too. Until I saw David getting the business. Caroline's man pounding him with his fists like it was nothing.

After he was done, Caroline left with the man, looking back at David as he climbed to his feet.
Until we meet again
, he called to their backs.

Elaine was ushered out of the club by two friends of hers.

I went to David, grabbed his arms, and looked in his eyes. He was bloody and inflamed. I felt like throwing myself on this fire of his like a blanket—to put it out or be consumed by it myself, I didn't care which.

Come on
, I said, and led him up to the apartment by the hand. He stared at me in total silence while I cleaned up the cut on his eyebrow.

He walked toward the bedroom. I watched. He stopped before the door and looked back at me, still saying nothing. I followed.

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached into his pocket for a cigarette. I stopped him, took the pack of cigarettes, and set them on the end table.

You'll want to pay attention
, I told him, and proceeded to take off all my clothes and stand before him.

He studied me silently and reached for me but I stopped him, caught him by the wrist. He put his hands on his thighs and looked. At my body, at my eyes, at my body, and then only my eyes, and I didn't let him touch me until I was sure he was as terrified as I, as uncertain. I would not try to be Caroline for him, or any other woman he'd known—I didn't know how. He put his forehead against my stomach and I held his head. He moved his hands slowly over my body, recording my skin with his rough fingers. All my skin, my hands and mouth and bones and breath, ached for him. So much so that I had to slow it down, control where he touched me and when, keep us just apart, so we couldn't lean all the way in, hide in each other, eyes closed. There was no other way but eyes open. I made him ask me what I wanted and I made him tell me what he wanted, so that what was happening would be marked by us, with words. To make it real, witnessed, spoken aloud. Over and over, I made him speak.
What do you want now? Now what? Tell me
. I made him ask.

T
he next morning, I slipped out of bed before he woke up, wiped the makeup from under my eyes with a washcloth, put on my old dress, and went for a walk. As I walked a low, mean voice in my head said,
You're terrible. Possessed
. Hearing it made me stand up straighter, to say to the voice,
Go on. Just go on talking like that
.
Try me
. I had been changed. I was ready to go to blows with myself.

When I got back David said,
Can I steal a few hours from you this afternoon? I want you to meet someone
.

Yes
, I said.
You can steal me
.

CHAPTER 35

O
N THE OTHER
side of town there was a quiet neighborhood with trees, little brick houses, and respectable cars parked in front of tidy lawns. I'd never seen anything like it. Neat rows of houses for the comings and goings of untroubled lives. It seemed like a neighborhood the devil let alone.

A man in a bow tie, sweater vest, and horn-rimmed glasses opened the door and held it with perfect posture while gesturing us inside.

Ah
,
Davie
, he said, shaking David's hand by holding it with both of his.

This here's Naomi Hutnik
.
The kid I told you about
.

Harvey Gilbert
, he said to me.
But everyone calls me Gill
.

Everyone calls me Naomi
.

I see
, said Gill, smiling at me with perfectly straight teeth. And to David,
Interesting
.

Well
,
I'm just curious as hell and don't want to waste another minute
. He turned to David.
Surely you're anxious to get on with whatever it is you do
,
hmm?

David nodded at us and left.

Don't slouch
,
darling
, Gill said, pointing in the direction of my chest.
I hate to be crude but with a pair like this you cannot slouch. Not ever. Understood?

Yes
,
sir
.

I followed him to the piano.
We'll start with scales on a nice
,
open “ah
.” He sat down and sang a scale; I mimicked.

Again
,
please. And this time as though your jaw is NOT wired shut
.

I went again, my jaw hanging open. I yawned.
Excuse me
.

It's a good sign
, said Gill.
You're opening up
.

He turned on his stool and pushed his fingers between my ribs, below my breasts. I was startled.
Try to push my hand away
.

I swiped away his hand with mine. He laughed.
From here
, he said, poking the two-inch space between my upper ribs.
Push with this. Use your ribs
.

I tried to control the space, and once I figured out what he meant, I was able to move his fingers in and out.

Most of the work of singing will happen right here
.

Then he had me lie on my back and place my hands on my diaphragm, abdomen, chest, neck, to put the breath here then there. I stood up straight and trilled my lips and made siren noises up and down the range of my voice—one embarrassing sound after another. Soon I felt tired, light-headed.

Can't we just sing songs?
I asked.

Gill looked at me over the top of his glasses, stared. My back itched but I didn't dare move under that stare.

He stood up and reached to a shelf behind him, taking down a trumpet, and handed it to me.

Play
, he said.

I don't know how
.

Try
, he said.

I blew on the mouthpiece. It sounded like air on metal.

Why can't you play?
he asked.

Because I've never learned. I told you. I don't know how
.

Mm-hmm
, he said, carefully removing the trumpet from my hands and placing it back on the shelf. He raised his hand above the piano and glared at me.

I have no interest in trumpets
, I said.

He sighed.
You will play your instrument after you LEARN to play your instrument. You will “sing songs,”
he said, mimicking a girl's voice,
when you learn HOW to sing songs
.

I scratched my back.

Let's just take a little break here
, said Gill. He shut his eyes and took deep, slow breaths.

I looked at the ceiling and could feel David all over my skin, everywhere, like he was still holding my legs open. I didn't want to take a break, to remember.

What's next?
I asked.

He opened his eyes.
Consonants
, he said.
Starting on a nice G. Bright. Lee-lee-lee-lee-lee
, he sang.
The lips relaxed
,
the tongue tapping the roof of the mouth like the wing of a hummingbird
.
Now you
.

My jaw sprang open and shut like a marionette until it ached.

Can you teach me to sing like Elaine?
I asked.

No
,
I cannot
, said Gill, turning the page of the Marchesi book.
Elaine is being done
,
darling. By Elaine. I can teach you to sing like Naomi. Does this interest you? If not
,
we can stop now
.

Fine
, I said.

He sat back down.
Believe me
,
you won't be disappointed
.

B
ack in the car with David, I was exhausted and hungry. He drove a little ways before pulling over.

I think we should talk about last night
.

About what specifically?
I asked.

He looked out the window.
Well
,
things are a little complicated right now
,
with Caroline and all—

As soon as he opened his mouth, something inside me slammed shut.

Stop
, I said, with force. Consonant-vowel-consonant. Punch the diaphragm. Engage the whole mouth.
Don't
. Another good one. I had learned something.

I just don't want you to think—
he began.

Have I asked for anything?
I said.
Did I last night? Am I now?

Most gals
, he began. And I didn't even have to say a word to stop him. He stopped himself, looked at me for a long time, then began to drive away. A game of kickball was bursting along up the street. The kids cleared slowly to make way for us. We rolled through.

It was nice
, he finally said.

Was it?
I said, trying to keep the door shut.

We drove the rest of the way home in silence, with just the threads between us—tangled, hot-wired, live.

T
he next day I had the apartment all to myself and ate everything I could find—a tin of stale crackers, some hard, greasy salami, toast with cinnamon and sugar. I wrote to Sister, told her about David and Gill, told her everything, however bad, because I hadn't heard a word from her. It was like writing to the wind, delivering the story of my life to the Kansas wind, where it would be whipped, shredded, and dissipated.
I wish you would write me. Are you there? I'm not a virgin any longer. I love David or perhaps I just found a way to matter to him
,
to be noticed. He has made me feel small and I hate him for that but I also long for him. I'm embarrassed. I'll be all right. I will find a way. Maybe I'll turn myself into something he cannot have. I could sure use your help. I don't know what's become of you or why I don't hear word. I'm going to sing soon. Very soon. Here at the club. In public. I miss you
.

T
he letter made me start to cry, so I took a very long bath and practiced my drills. They sounded better in there. I didn't cover myself when David walked in and pulled me out of the bath and dried my body with a towel and made love to me against the sink. Or afterward when I sat down on the couch and found a cigarette to smoke. I didn't cover myself until Caroline walked in. When I reached for the afghan on the back of the couch, she stopped me.

No
,
don't
, she said calmly.
Not on my account
.

I crossed my arms in front of myself. David approached her, pants on, shirtless.
Baby
, he began.

You
,
too. Don't you move either. I want to take this in
.

As she lowered her turquoise suitcase to the floor, she stared back and forth at us, thinking.
Just want to be absolutely sure I'm seeing what I'm seeing
. She kept rubbing her fingers together like something was stuck on them.
I am
,
right?

David looked at her.
What?