The Stories of Richard Bausch (78 page)

Oh, don’t hang up. Really. I’m paying for the call. I just asked if you went to college. I have to feel like I know you at least a little bit before we get to the other stuff.

Look, sweetie, this isn’t a date or anything.

But I’d like to feel that it’s something close to it. Isn’t this supposed to be about what I need, and am willing to pay for? What’s the difference if it’s all just talking, right? I mean that’s not too much to ask for a dollar a minute, is it?

It’s ninety-nine cents a minute.

Well, but that’s a dollar. That’s a thing my wife and I used to fight about. She’d look at something in the store and see eight dollars and ninety-nine cents and she’d think it was eight dollars. I had to remind her about it a lot. My wife and money, that was like a land-war-in-Asia kind of thing.

Excuse me?

We kept throwing more money at everything because we couldn’t believe what we’d already wasted was wasted. That had a lot to do with why we kept on going in Vietnam. We couldn’t believe we’d wasted so much life. We couldn’t let it mean nothing. You—you get the point of that?

You want to talk about fucking Vietnam? Are you a vet or something?

I’m too young to be a vet. I’m interested in history, kind of thing. You like history, Marilyn?

Uh, no. I’m not into that.

My wife is, big time. As in the history of men keeping women down. The whole oppressive history of women-getting-screwed-by-men kind of thing. That’s my wife.

Is that why you’re separated?

We’re separated because she decided I wasn’t with the program anymore. Which was true, I guess. The program was basically about the improvement of John T. Bailey, E-S-Q. The perfection of that item, you might say, by a series of continual reminders of everything wrong with him.

It’s kind of pushy, isn’t it, reminding somebody about their faults.

I wouldn’t call it pushy, no. Not exactly. The fact was, there is what you might call a lot of area for improvement. But it used to irritate me, I’ll admit that.

And you want to talk about it?

Well, we could, I suppose.

Like I said, it’s your dime.

Are you
married?

No.

How old are you?

Look, honey, what did you call us for? This is
phone sex.

But couldn’t it be, like, phone
friendship
for a little while? Just a minute or two?

Man, I keep thinking this is some sort of prank or something.

It’s not. I promise it’s not. I’m not the type who plays pranks. I don’t even think it’s funny when other people do it.

Well.

I went to college. I went to West Texas State and majored in history. I didn’t learn much. Don’t get involved in a land war in Asia. Where did you go?

High school. I’m putting myself through college, now, and I can talk you through a heavenly experience, too. I can make you
hot,
and bring you off like a rocket.

Why are you going to college? I mean what do you hope to get out of it?

An education.

Is that just to get a better job, or pursue a career, or do you desire to be educated as in somebody who possesses a knowledge of the arts of civilization?

You talk funny, John.

Are you in search of knowledge and cultivation of your spirit?

All that.

Really.

Sure, why not?

You want part of the American Dream.

Okay.

But what is the American Dream, anyway? Going to art galleries, or owning-a-big-car-and-having-a-house-with-a-swimming-pool kind of thing? I mean, I think the American Dream is getting on television and being famous.

Is that what you want, John?

No, I’m saying that’s the American Dream. I’ve got a little boy who wants to grow up to be famous. That’s what he says he wants. He doesn’t have the slightest idea how or why or what he’ll end up doing, and none of that matters to him. He just wants to be famous. He wants everybody to know his name. That’s his big dream. I think there’s a lot of people out there like my son, only these’re grown people.

I don’t want to be famous.

Are you seeing anyone?

…

It’s just a harmless question, Marilyn.

I’m with
you
now, honey.

But are you seeing anyone?

How are you going to get anything out of it if I talk about who I’m seeing, John?

Well, are you?

Okay, sure. Yes. I am.

Does he know you do this?

Maybe. Look, I think we ought to get down to something soon, baby. I’m so
hot
for you.

My wife didn’t play around on me or anything, and I was faithful to her. You’ve probably figured out that I’ve never called one of these 900 lines before. I guess that’s pretty evident. We had a good life, Kate and me. Her name is Kate. She likes sex, too. We both like it. I’m not one of those types who’s never had any loving before, you know? But something got between us. A—a lethargy.

Lethargy.

It means—

I know what it means, honey. Are you telling me you couldn’t get it up?

Oh, hell no. No, we really didn’t have any trouble that way. Not any. We excited each other. She’s really very adventurous in bed. We were great that way. But she’s a better person than I am, that’s pretty clear. We lived a little selfishly, too. I think that’s what did us in. But we had fun in bed.

Tell me what she’d say to you, honey. I can make you feel her.

No, that isn’t it. I’m telling you this to get to know you. You know a little about me. My wife and I hit this—this lethargic place. I should say straight out that I tend to excess, I admit that. I have a habit of getting a little too much to drink now and then, and I used to do some other kinds of substances. She did, too. We had a lot of easy money and we were a pair, let me tell you. She used to keep a big brick of cocaine in her dresser drawer.

Yikes.

It’s true. But most of that is over, and we’d mostly got past all that, and I thought we were doing fine—especially, sexually, as I said. We were interested in each other for sex, you see, but there were these other areas—

What other area is there, when you get down to it, lover?

Well, just—you know—at the level of talk. I found that her voice irritated me.

And what was her problem with you?

Oh, lots of things. Lots of things that it isn’t anybody’s business to know

…

I’m sorry, that didn’t sound right. I don’t mean anything by it.

Man, this is your money.

You ever find that somebody’s
voice
gets on your nerves, Marilyn?

I guess.

Does my voice irritate you?

No.

You have to say that, though, right?

I don’t
have
to say anything, lover.

How old are you?

Oh, baby, I’m old enough. And young enough. How old are you?

I’m thirty-two. I already said. So, now, what about you?

…

Hello? Tell me—come on, you can do that.

We’re not allowed to tell our age, lover. I’m of age. I’m old enough for anything you want.

I do like the sound of your voice. You have a very lovely voice.

Oh, I haven’t even
started,
honey. You don’t seem to want to give me a chance.

Yes, but isn’t it a relief not to have to go through the spiel?

Excuse me?

The routine. All that moaning and groaning and sex-detail-talk kind of thing to get some poor lonely stranger off over long distance. I’m in South Carolina, for instance. Where are you?

Close as your ear.

But where—really?

Washington, D.C.

Are you in a room with other girls talking on phones? I’m picturing you sitting at one of those consoles with all the plugs and the lines, and earphones on, like an operator.

No, honey—I’m home in bed. I really am. And I’m naked, and I’ve got my hand on my—

How many calls like this do you handle a day?

I’ve
never
handled a call like this. I mean I
am
new, and maybe these people take calls like this every day, but it hasn’t happened to me yet.

I really don’t want to cause you any discomfort.

I’m
fine.
Are
you
all right?

Well, that’s a question, there, Marilyn. That might take a little time to answer.

Do you want me to listen, honey?

You said
these people
a second ago. So there are others there with you, taking the calls?

I meant the other girls who work for this service. Look, this is a
service.

I’m sorry. Really, I’m—uh, I’m curious. I wanted to talk. I mean I
do
want to get to the sex, too, you know, but I just—since it can’t matter to you, really, and might even be a bit of a relief from the types you usually get, and you’re still getting paid the going rate.

…

Nobody’s ever asked to talk to you—just as yourself first?

Nobody yet.

I’m the first.

What did you mean about the types I usually get?

Well, what type of person makes this kind of call?

Wouldn’t
you
be in a better position to answer that, John?

I’ve never made this type of call before.

Why do I get the feeling you make this kind of call every day?

No, really. This is a first for me.

Well, I’m not interested in being your friend or listening to your troubles, you know, John? Usually I do most of the talking on these calls. And I wouldn’t want to listen to people tell their troubles all day for any amount of money. That does not strike me as my idea of having a good time. That does not sound like a good time at all to me.

I didn’t mean to complain, actually. Just to be honest, so you could know a little about me and feel that it’s all right to say a few small things about yourself and then we would know each other, and when we got down to the sex it would be so much more like the real thing.

The real—what?

Don’t be mad, Marilyn. Don’t you get a lot of guys who are curious about it?

Not all that many, no. It’s pretty straightforward usually. Some heavy breathing and I say a few things and it’s over.

Do you get perverts?

…

I guess that wasn’t a fair question.

Look, are you one of those reporter types looking for a story?

No, I’m a separated father of two living alone in an apartment with most of the furniture gone and a lot of disarray I don’t need. My wife and kids are hundreds of miles north, with the lion’s share of the furniture, and last night I went out and got stinking and came back here and I’ve been lying here thinking about calling my sister, who is a perfect shit and a prig, and I decided instead to call you.

To unload your troubles.

No, and I’m sorry I said anything about it. If that bothers you I won’t say another thing about it. I’m just trying to have a real conversation before we get going on things. I need that, or I can’t get any pleasure out of it at all, and as we established at the beginning I
am
paying for this.

…

I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, there, Marilyn.

Why is your sister such a prig, honey?

She’s the type who says I
told you so.
Do you know the type?

I’ve known a few of those, yeah.

Brothers or sisters?

Sure.

You’re being automatic now, I can hear it in your voice. You’re not paying attention.

Yeah.

Yeah, you’re not paying attention? Or yeah, you’re being automatic.

Your voice is nice, baby, and I like the sound of it.

You do.

Why don’t you think about how it might be to cozy up together here. I’d love to see you.

I murdered my grandmother and put her in the freezer, this morning.

Serves her right.

What?

I said it serves her right.

You
are
listening.

Trying to.

So what’re you studying in college, Marilyn? What’s your major?

Oh, do you want to do this or not, honey?

I just want to know what your major is.

I told you, we’re not supposed to get that personal.

You’re so far away. How is telling me what your majoring in personal?

You know what, man? This is weird. This is positively weird.

It’s unconventional. You’re already doing something rather radically unconventional, so why not be unconventional with the conventions of
this,
which is so unconventional. Why not tell me something that’s bothering you? I told you about my impending divorce, and my toot, and my shit of a sister, who won’t take me in and whose husband threw me downstairs last night so that I almost broke my neck and who
told me
for years that I was messing up in a big way and when the mess finally caught up with me and I had to go see her she said I
told you so
all over again just in case I’d missed it the first two hundred seventy-seven thousand times she’d said it.

Did you say her husband threw you downstairs?

Harv’s his name. A prince of a guy. A cupcake, old Harv.

I’d stay away from Harv, lover.

That’s what my sister said. And after I went down the stairs, I got the message—I’m to stay away from old Harv. And you know what Harv does for a living? Harv’s a veterinarian. He spends all day taking care of dogs and cats. Got a heart of gold, old Harv. Cries-at-sad-movies kind of thing. A sweetheart. Kindness personified, that guy.

Do you like
pussycats,
lover?

They’re fine if I don’t have to live with one. Do you live with one?

I’ve got three of them.

I’m allergic. I have allergies that bother me when I’m around them.

I don’t have any allergies.

Well, now there—that wasn’t too much trouble, was it? I know a little something about you now. You live with three cats and you don’t have any allergies.

Do you want me to start now, baby?

Not yet, not yet. Not like that. It’s got to be natural, you know.

Natural.

I’m sober, too, Marilyn. Believe it or not. This is a very sober phone call.

Why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?