Get a Load of This Page 13

  They walked past the boating-pond, leaving a wispy trail of tobacco smoke that floated in the still air behind them. On, past the flower-beds, through the avenue of trees and then, branching off the main avenue, they walked along a smaller path that led to the woods.

  They didn’t speak to each other, but their bright bird-like eyes, moving in quick little darts, missed nothing. The path twisted through the woods, mounting gradually to a high mound which overlooked the whole of the park. Walking, now in single file, they finally reached the top and stood motionless, their eyes darting to the right and to the left. The park seemed quite deserted. Except for these two young men, and the birds, nothing moved.

  The two young men remained standing motionless for some little while, their cigarettes bobbing now and then, as they drew in a lungful of smoke. Then one of them nudged the other. A long way to the right he had seen a movement that had caught his eye. His companion’s eyes darted in the direction that the other had indicated. He could just make out someone moving towards them, appearing and disappearing behind the screen of trees. Both of them became very intent. Their heads thrust forward and their eyes narrowed.

  After a short while, a girl came out of the wood and moved towards them up the twisty path.

  They looked at each other and nodded, then they separated and vanished into the bushes.

  The girl came on slowly, unconscious that she wasn’t entirely alone. She wore a cheap print dress that had once been very pretty, but constant washing had faded its large flowered pattern. She was bareheaded, and carried a perky little straw hat in her hand. She was above the average height and slender. Her figure was rather childish, and she had soft, smudgy curves as if she had never worn a restricting garment.

  She was not exactly pretty, because her features were irregular and her expression vague, but the two young men, watching her, thought she was attractive enough.

  She came on slowly, swinging her hat carelessly, and singing softly. She reached the top of the mound and looked a little vaguely round the park. Then she sat down with her back to a tree, stretched out her long legs and adjusted the dress with a prim little movement.

  The two young men gave her a few minutes to settle down, then they made a quick, silent detour and came out on to the path where she was bound to see them. They walked towards her silently, and without appearing to notice her.

  Under their hat brims they saw that she was startled. In fact, for a moment, their sudden appearance nearly panicked her. She started up as if she were about to spring to her feet, but seeing that they were so close she turned her head, as if she hadn’t seen them, and relaxed once more against the tree.

  One of the young men said, “Do you think we ought to speak to her?”

  “Aw, Jakie, why not? She looks sort of lonely all by herself.”

  The girl kept her head turned from them, but they could see by the way she stiffened that she had heard what they had said.

  The young man addressed as Jakie moved closer to her. “It’s a nice morning, isn’t it?” he said. His voice was very flat, cold and unmusical.

  She didn’t say anything.

  “It’s swell to walk in the park on a mornin’ like this, ain’t it?” he went on, gently kicking a root of the tree with his soiled shoe. “There’s no one about. You can just wander around an’ do what you like.”

  The other young man suddenly giggled.

  Jakie frowned at him. “Gee, Pugsey, can’t you behave? Ain’t nothin’ to laugh about.”

  Pugsey giggled again. “She ain’t takin’ any notice of you,” he said. “Don’t look like you’re gettin’ places so fast.”

  Jakie turned back to the girl. “You mustn’t mind him,” he said. “You see, he don’t know how to handle dames. I do.”

  She still said nothing.

  Pugsey said, “Maybe she’s deaf,” hopefully.

  Jakie shook his head. “Naw,” he said, “she ain’t deaf; she’s just a little dumb.”

  Pugsey gave a sudden squeal of laughter. “Gee!” he said. “I bet you read that somewhere. That’s pretty smart.”

  The girl suddenly looked at them. Her eyes were scared, not because she was frightened of them, but because she was scared that they were making fun of her. “Go away, please,” she said, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  Jakie took a step back. “Did you hear that, Pugsey? She don’t want to talk to us.”

  “Too bad,” Pugsey said, squatting on his heels and staring at the girl. He kept his distance and was to the rear and to the right of Jakie. “Can you think of any reason why she wouldn’t want to talk to us?”

  Jakie shook his head. “Naw,” he said. “Suppose you ask her?”

  “You’re a smart guy,” Pugsey said. “Isn’t he a smart guy?” he went on to the girl. “Jakie always gets to the root of anything. You see, he wants to know why. You tell us.”

  The girl looked away without speaking.

  “She’s in a trance again,” Pugsey said, shifting a little nearer. “I don’t think she likes you, Jakie.”

  Jakie sat on the ground and leant back on his elbows. The girl was between the two of them. He selected a long blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “What the hell’s the matter with me?” he asked. “Why shouldn’t she like me?”

  Pugsey considered this. “Maybe you smell or something,” he suggested, after some thought.

  Jakie picked his nose. “Ask her,” he said.

  “What’s wrong with Jakie?” Pugsey asked, looking at the girl. “That’s a fair question, ain’t it?”

  She made a move as if she were going to get up, but the two suddenly became very tense, looking at her coldly with their hard little eyes, and she relaxed again against the tree. She looked rather desperately across the park, but she could see no one.

  The two followed her gaze. “Too early,” Jakie said. “We’re lucky to find you, I guess. Do you know, Pugsey, she reminds me of that little judy we ran into a couple of weeks ago on Franklin Street.”

  “The one we took into that empty house?” Pugsey asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Pugsey looked at the girl again. “Maybe you’ve got something there. Yeah, I think you’ve got something there.”

  “She ain’t so fair, is she? Still, she’s about the same age. Jeeze! Didn’t that one squawk when we—you know.”

  Pugsey giggled. “It don’t matter a great deal if this one squawks here, does it? I mean, there ain’t anyone around to come bustin’ in. Maybe she’ll be sensible.”

  The girl had gone very white and her eyes opened wide. She put one hand on the ground and struggled up on her knees.

  Jakie said, “Looks like she’s goin’ to take a powder.”

  Pugsey edged a little nearer. “Naw,” he said, “she’s going to be sensible, ain’t you, baby?”

  The girl said: “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you. Go away. Please go away.”

  Jakie put his fingers into his vest pocket. “Hear her talk,” he said, his dark little eyes darting over her. “Think I ought to try and persuade her?”

  Pugsey nodded. “Yeah, we better hurry. Look, it’s gettin’ late.” He produced a cheap watch and waved it in front of Jakie.

  Jakie took a little green bottle with a glass stopper from his pocket. He said to the girl: “It’s acid. Burns, you know; eats into things. Makes holes in your skin.”

  The girl crouched back. She tried to speak, but she could only make a terrified whimpering noise.

  “If I throw this at you,” Jakie said simply, “it’ll spoil your pretty face. I just want you to be sensible and do what you’re told. If you try and get tough, then you’ll get this in your mug, see? Otherwise, you’ll be all right.”

  Pugsey giggled again.

  “Maybe we’d better toss for it,” Jakie said, taking a dime out of his pocket.

  Pugsey called and won. Jakie got up and dusted down his suit. He put the little bottle in his pocket. Then he looked at the girl with his cold,
unfeeling eyes. “I got it here,” he said, patting his pocket, “be good. I ain’t tellin’ you a second time. One dame didn’t believe me. Remember how she squawked, Pugsey? Remember how she ran down the street with the stuff stripping the meat off her face? She was a dope, wasn’t she? Be smart, sister. We ain’t going to be long.”

  Pugsey walked over to her and pulled her to her feet. She cringed from him, but she didn’t try to run away.

  Jakie sat with his back to a tree, his black hat over his nose, and a cigarette dangling from his thin lips. His little eyes kept watch over the park, missing nothing.

  When Pugsey got through, Jakie went over to the girl, and Pugsey kept watch. Pugsey had to stuff his handkerchief in his mouth to stop his giggles when the girl began crying. He was mighty glad that she hadn’t done that when he was with her. Jakie had betted him a dollar that she would be too scared to cry. It amused Pugsey to think he’d won a dollar from Jakie, because Jakie hated giving money away.

  They left the girl on the mound and walked back to the boating-pond. Jakie gave Pugsey the dollar rather sourly.

  Pugsey didn’t want him to feel bad about it, so he said: “You’re a smart guy, Jakie. I didn’t really think it would work.”

  Jakie took the little bottle out of his pocket and fondled it. “I knew it would,” he said, with a thin grimace that served him as a smile. “But it was a good thing she didn’t look too close, the bottle’s empty.” He went to the edge of the pond and carefully dipped the bottle in, filling it with the muddy water. “It wouldn’t do to make the same mistake twice.”

  Pugsey said: “Naw, but these dames are pretty dumb. They wouldn’t notice nothin’.”

  Together they went out of the park, moving slightly less rhythmetically than they had when they came in.

  THE PLACE OF LOVE

  1

  She lay very still on the bed, vaguely conscious that she ought not to be there; that she ought to be doing something very important, but what it was she couldn’t remember.

  She moved her long legs, feeling the smooth linen sliding over her flesh. What had she to do? Something… What was it? She couldn’t remember. It was all too much trouble. Everything was too much trouble.

  In the distance the note of a ship’s siren sounded, a soft, gentle wail. Her heart missed a beat, but still she didn’t move. Now, she remembered. The ship, of course. It sailed at two o’clock. They had said repeatedly that they were not waiting for anyone. Something was going to happen in Havana. They didn’t say what it would be. They didn’t even admit that it was going to happen, but by a little gesture, by the apprehensive look in their eyes, by the flurry they all were in, one gathered that something was going to happen that couldn’t possibly be pleasant.

  The little, pock-marked steward, when he had given her her coat, had emphasized the necessity of being on board by midnight. He was nice, in spite of his pock-marks, and she made a point of assuring him that she would be back before then. She would have been if she hadn’t met Lacey.

  She moved restlessly. Lacey. She saw him as he was the previous night. Tall, very clean-looking in his white evening clothes. He was good to look at. Any woman would have thought so. His lean face, his full lips, and the jeering, cynical look he had in his eyes.

  He had joined the boat at Bahama. As soon as he came on board the women began to talk about him. He was that kind of a man.

  She pressed her fingers to her aching head. God! She must have been tight, as tight as she had been crazy—that must have been very, very tight. She wanted to go to sleep again, but she began remembering, and as the memory of the previous night built up in her mind, sleep retreated.

  Oh yes, he had been awfully nice. It was by the sheerest coincidence that he happened to be going ashore as she stepped on the gang-plank. She had planned to see Havana with a Mr. and Mrs. Skinner. They were nice people, elderly, kindly and safe—nice people.

  Lacey had jeered at them. He had shaken his head at her, behind their backs, as they prepared to take her away on a stately little drive along the brightly lit Havana waterfront. Then he had stepped forward. It was all done so smoothly. She couldn’t remember what he had said, but it must have been horribly smooth and just right, because the Skinners went away, smiling. They even looked back and waved, leaving her alone with him. Oh yes, she had to admit that it was all very neat and clever. He had taken her into the heart of Havana. He seemed to know all the unexpected places. He didn’t take her to the show places, but to all the exciting little cafes and houses, as if he owned the place.

  He talked. She began gathering the top of the sheet unconsciously into a tight, long rope. Yes, he had talked. At first, he said amusing things. He did what very few people could do, he made her laugh. Then later, in the evening, after they had a few drinks, he began to flatter her. It wasn’t eye-talk stuff. It was shockingly personal, and it made her go hot, but because of the velvety strength of the drinks he had given her she didn’t go away from him as she ought to have done. So it went on until she suddenly realized that she was getting dangerously light-headed. She stopped drinking, but she couldn’t stop him talking. He said, in a charming way, the most outrageous things. She felt herself being drawn to him entirely against her will. It was as if something inside her was going out to him, leaving her weak and without resistance.

  She remembered wondering when he would touch her. She knew, beyond any doubt, that he would touch her. Why else did he continue to stare at her with such intentness?

  He seemed in no hurry. That was because he was so confident. Even in small things he was always confident. Small things, as lighting a cigarette, walking through a crowded room, or ordering a meal.

  She remembered thinking that in an hour, or less, he was going to possess her. He would take her as confidently as he took everything. She was going to do absolutely nothing about it. She knew that before he started. Absolutely nothing, because she had no resistance. She felt almost as if she were asleep, dreaming that this was happening to her.

  There—he had touched her. He had reached out and put his hand firmly on hers. She was quite sure that he would reach out his hand in the same way, steadily and confidently, to pat the head of a snarling dog.

  At his touch her blood ran hot in her veins. She remembered thinking, at the time, that such a thing only happened in novels, but she actually felt a sudden surge of warmth go through her.

  He went on talking, holding her hand lightly in his. Meeting his eyes, she saw that he had finished playing with her. He was serious now. She saw an eagerness that had pushed the jeering look into the background.

  He rose to his feet abruptly, and took her through the back of the restaurant, through a doorway screened by a bead curtain. Together they went down a dim corridor that smelt faintly of sandalwood.

  She followed him, her knees feeling weak, into a little room which was beautifully furnished, lit by rose-coloured lanterns. She was quite unable to say anything.

  As she lay there in bed she could see those lanterns very clearly. She shut her eyes and she could see them even more clearly. She could feel him drawing her down on the divan, his hands taking the weight from her breasts. His hands there made her suddenly want him with an urgency that terrified her.

  She had said, a little wildly, “Be kind to me—be kind to me,” and she remembered trying to find his mouth with hers.

  She did not know how he undressed her. She was conscious of her clothes leaving her smoothly as he did everything. Then he suddenly lost all his smoothness, and treated her shamefully.

  She lay staring at the rose-pink lanterns, feeling a sick loathing of herself. Her desires had gone away from her the moment he took her. It was all so sudden, so brutal, so unexpected—so filthily selfish. So she lay looking at the rose-pink lanterns until he stood away from her.

  He had said, a little impatiently, “It’s getting late, we had better go back to the boat.”

  She had said nothing. She couldn’t even cry.

  “Do
n’t you hear?” he said. “It is nearly twelve.”

  Without looking at him, she said: “Does it matter? Does anything ever matter to you? Go away. Go back to the boat. I’ve nothing else to give you. Why don’t you go away?”

  He said impatiently, “For God’s sake stop talking and get dressed.”

  She shut her eyes and said nothing, so he left her. He walked out of the room with his confident tread and left her there.

  When he had gone she got up and dressed. She remembered that she couldn’t look herself in the face as she stood before the mirror. She remembered thinking that she had behaved like a bitch, and she was ashamed.

  She went back to the restaurant. The waiter who had served them looked at her curiously when she sat down at the table they had previously occupied. She didn’t care what he thought. She didn’t care about anything. She just felt a cold fury with herself for being such a bitch. She didn’t even think of Lacey any more. All she could think was that because this was Havana, because of the great yellow moon, and because of the blue-black water, studded with thousands of lights from the waterfront, she had behaved like a bitch with a horribly smooth ship’s Romeo. She deserved to be treated as a whore. She hadn’t even the satisfaction of knowing that she had been as efficient as a whore—she hadn’t. She had just wanted to be very sick and to cry, but she had done absolutely nothing.

  She had ordered a lot of drink from the waiter. She had to get tight. She could do that. There was nothing else she could do. She couldn’t sit in the restaurant, knowing the ship was sailing with all her clothes, leaving her in Havana, where something was going to happen, without getting good and tight. So she got good and tight, and she might have been still sitting there if the waiter hadn’t very tactfully put her in a taxi and told the driver to take her to a hotel. She would go back one day and thank the waiter. It was the first act of kindness she had received in Havana.

  At the hotel they didn’t seem to notice how very tight she was. The manager seemed to have something on his mind. He wasn’t even sorry when he heard that she had lost the boat. He just raised his hands, saying, “That is a very grave misfortune for you, senorita,” and gave instructions for her to be taken to a room on the third floor overlooking the waterfront.