Last Exit to Brooklyn (5 page)

O please, please, please, please … why are you torturing me? The bitches. The dirty bitches. O let me out. Let someone come in. I dont want to be alone. Please let them come. Anything. Im down. Let them come. For christs sake. Im down. DOWN! I cant stay in this room. This dirty room. Let Vinnie in. Let him take me away. Vinnie. O
Vinnie, my darling. Take me away. Its ugly in here. Ugly. And I loved the carousel. Puddin n pie. Vinnie – (the doctor looked at her eyes, said nothing, then examined her leg. He washed the wound, probed gently, and Georgette groaned, hoping hed write a prescription, and rolled on the bed trying to hang over the side and reach the slacks and the doctor mumbled; her Mother watched, shaking, and Georgette looked pleadingly at her, wanting her caresses and protection, but she couldnt reach the slacks. Jesus, why cant I reach them? She stopped rolling and cried. Her Mother stroked her forehead and the doctor bandaged the leg and told her to stay off it for a few days and come in to see him when she felt better. He closed his bag (shut. Shut. It banged Shut!), smiled and told Mrs Hanson it would be better if George didnt have any visitors for a few days. She nodded (Georgette leaned slowly to the edge of the bed – when they go to the door) and thanked him. Dont bother to walk me to the door. I can find my way out – not even a little codeine. Nothing. If that fucking Harry wasnt there. That freak. And those rotten bitches. Two cent cunt. Not even a nebbie. He could have given me one at least. Not much of a cut. Just stay in bed a few days. Days. Days. Days … DAYS. DAYS!!! The walls will fall. Theyll crush me. Mother? O Mother. Mother? Give me something. Please. Anything. Try to relax son. Your leg will be better soon. My leg? – (Stop. Arthur, for the love of God stop. Stop? You see these? You see them? More of those goddamn dopepills. Thats what they are. Dopepills. Well, you will never see these again dear sweet
brother
! Give them to me. Give me them. Mother, make him give them to me. Shut up or I ll kill you. Do you hear me? I swear I will kill you. Always crying. Mommy this and Mommy that. Everytime you get a little scratch – Arthur. Stop! He stood shaking, clutching the end of the bed watching brother crawl and squirm on the bed, hiding behind his Mommy, wanting Mommys love and kisses … then shoved the pills in his pocket, spun around and dragged out the boxes in the back of the closet and dumped them on the floor – Mommy this and Mommy that – ripping and tearing Georgettes drag clothes, her lovely dresses and silks, stamping on her shoes … You see these Mother? You see them? Look. Look at these disgusting pictures. O Arthur – Look at them. Just LOOK! Men making love to each other. It isnt
pretty is it? Arthur, please. Well? is it? Are they? ARE THEY??? Filth. Thats what they are. FILTH!!! Why dont you die Georg
ie!
Why dont you go away and die. Stop. STOP! For the love of god Arthur, stop. I cant stand it anymore. Well, neither can I. You saw those pictures. Now you should know what he
really
is. A degenerate. A filthy degenerate! Arthur, please, for my sake. I know. I know. Leave your brother alone. Please.
Brother???
) – O god, theyll bug me. They know I cant stay down. They know it. Nothing to see. To look at. Why me? Why wont somebody help me. I dont want to be alone. I cant stand it. Please help me. At least Goldie has bennie. I cant stay down. Always alone. O jesus, jesus jesus … why me??? Mommy? Mommy? O god I need something. Those sick johns. Always? I dont want to be straight. I just need something. I ll go crazy. Theyre keeping me down. Down. Why do they want to kill me? and the near shadowless room continued shrinking and she looked for dark corners, but there were none, just a penumbra as the closet door partially blocked the light from the living room. Georgette called … looked around the room. At the bed. Sat up and called again … then slowly swung her legs over the side and tentatively touched the floor … stood … hobbled to the door and looked at Mother sleeping in a chair. She dressed, took money from Mothers pocketbook and left. When she stood on the stoop she realized she didnt know the day or time. But the sun had set. Leaning against parked cars she limped to the corner and hailed a cab, praying that Goldie was home. She gave the driver the address and thought of Goldies and bennie.

When she got to Goldies one of the girls helped her upstairs and to a chair. She asked for someone to light her a cigarette and leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes, allowing her hand and body to snake, extending her leg stiffly in front of her and groaning. The girls stood around, asking, wondering, thrilling to the scene and exulting over the sudden breaking of the monotony; the monotony of the last few days that dragged them even with bennie and pot and forced them to sit, just sit, and bitch about the heat like tired johns, and remember beatings by punks, and stares of squares; but Georgette twisted her face with pain, not too much though, and they wondered and thrilled. Goldie handed her half a dozen bennie and she swallowed them,
gulped hot coffee and sat silent … trying to think the bennie into her mind (and her room and the past few days out); not wanting to wait for it to dissolve and be absorbed by the blood and pumped through her body; wanting her heart to pound
now
; wanting the chills
now
; wanting the lie
now
; Now!!! The others jabbered and squealed as she opened her eyes, shaking her head tragically, her arms hanging limply … speaking in whispers and shaking away questions, nodding and slowly raising her cigarette to her lips and taking shallow asthmatic puffs. They gave her more coffee and then the tingle, the pounding of the heart and she lit another cigarette and straightened slightly in the chair. Goldie asked her if she was feeling better and she said yes. A little thanks. Would you like some pot? O, do you have any? Of course honey. Goldie gave her a stick and Georgette sucked the smoke refusing, absolutely refusing, to cough; and they watched and waited until Georgette had chewed the roach and put her makeup on before bubbling forth with their questions. Well, I must say you look much better now. You looked simply frightful when you came in. I have been down for days. Days? What happened. Yes, dishus honey. Do you have another stick Goldie. Of course. Well for gods sake, you just going to sit there all night or are you going to tell us what happened. O really Miss Lee. Cant you see the poor girl is overwrought. You dont have to yell Miss Thing. Im simply dying to know what happened, thats all. Thats alright honey – O thank you Goldie – I understand. Just let me get myself together and I’ll tell you the whole story. She smoked the second stick and told them how she was stabbed; how the freak Harry started the whole thing; how the doctor wouldnt give her anything, not even one little nebbie; and how they kept her locked in her room not allowing her to have one visitor, and I heard Vinnie at the door a couple of times and they wouldnt let him in; and how she defied her brother, the freak, and how she laid him out and walked right out of the house. And I mean right past him honey, right past him, and you should have seen his face! he was agog, simply agog. O I laid him out but good. O how wonderful. How simply wonderful. O how I wish I had been there. I would have adored seeing you lay that big freak out. I’ll never forget that atrocious scene he pulled on us. Never. All those straight creeps are like that. They clapped their
hands, twittered and aaad and decided to have a party in honor of Georgette and the laying out of Arthur.

Goldie sent Rosie, a demented female who acted as sortofa housemaid, for gin, cigarettes and another gross of bennie. They made a small pot of bouillon and danced around it dropping tablets in and chanting
bennie
in the
bouil
lon,
ben
nie in the
bouil
lon, whirling away the fear and boredom, giggling, popping bennie, drinking gin, toasting Georgette: Long Live THE QUEEN, and the laying out of Arthur. He should be laid out, but I mean really, the freak, each in her mind and turn laying out every rough or straight sonofabitch that ever hit them or pointed and laughed; dancing through the apartment until they fell into chairs trying to catch their breath, fanning themselves; and Rosie brought bouillon, ice and gin and they spoke more quietly, still laughing, asking Georgette again and again to tell them how she laid her brother out … then gradually they quieted, too spent to shout, stretching in their seats, getting higher and higher as they sat quietly and becoming conscious of the absence of men, their high spirits and overflowing joy making the absence of love known. So her subjects petitioned the Queen to summon forth her dashing husband and his rough trade friends, for tonight they were daring and even Camille, a frail queen from a small town in Jersey, longed for rough arms, there being no room, but absolutely no room, for johns. So Georgette, flying in her world of junk, called the Greeks and flushed (O, my libido is twitching) when she heard Vinnies voice and fluttered her lids when he said hello sweetchips, whereya been? O, Ive been balling it loverman, smiling at her friends and too high to be bothered by, Ive got ya loverman shit. Itll still costya. She asked him to come over with some of the boys, giggling yes when he asked if she was high, telling him they had loads of gin and not to worry about gold for gas to get back, and Vinnie said maybe they would (for kicks) and Georgette continued to talk after Vinnie hungup, rolling her hips as she sighed, O Vinnie baby, and sighing as she slowly lowered the phone. They asked her if they were coming, how many, when – and Georgette played it cool and to the hilt; regally walking back to her throne, telling the girls to be quiet. Really! One would think it was years since you had a real man. They may be here in an hour or so, if they dont pull a job, so just keep your
legs crossed, flaunting her arms, smiling graciously and secretly. They drank more bouillon, popped more bennie and dished the dirt. Camille was nervous, never having met an excon before. You just never meet that sort back home. As a matter of fact Goldie was the first hip queen she had ever met. All the fairies in her town were closet queens or pinkteas, so she was all a dither, jumping up, jerking around the room, asking question after question, Georgette telling her stories about broken noses, cut throats and Camille ooood and squealed, loving the tightness in her stomach and the apprehension in her bowels. She said she felt faint and that she simply must take a bath. The others laughed and chided, Georgette waving off the how could you’s as Camille filled one of the tubs in the kitchen and laid out her brushes: One for her back, one for her stomach, one for her chest, one for her arms, one for her legs, one for her feet, one for her toenails, one for her hands, one for her fingernails, and a special jar of cream for her face. She lined them up, handles facing her, and started from the left with the back brush. They told her to hurry or she would be attacked while bathing and O she was frightened, they should know better than to talk of such things. She was so upset she almost broke wind.

Camille had finished her bath, collected her brushes and was primping in the bathroom when the bell rang. Georgette almost jumped to the door, but contained herself, sat back, leaning her head to one side hoping the light was falling on her face properly, and waited for someone to open the door. She held her cigarette daintily and tried to hide her excitement. Over an hour since the call and though Miss Camille, while in the tub, had afforded Georgette an opportunity to appear relaxed and carefree, during the time that elapsed since Camille finished Georgette was forced to retain her position, and the center of attraction, by amusing the others with stories, laying this one and that one out, the girls laughing at her wit; continually talking and hoping the bell would ring before too many seconds of silence forced her to think of what to say next or allowed the others to become conscious of time and ask about Vinnie (VINNIE!!! Vinnie had to come) or allowed her fears to come back to the surface … but the bell rang and she swallowed another bennie, finished her bouillon and once again adjusted herself on her throne.

Goldie opened the door and the boys strolled in, looked around, stood in the kitchen, looking, until Vinnie led the way into the living room. Whatayasay Georgie? Hows the leg? O, just fine, thank you, tilting her head to the side just a wee bit more and taking a quick Bette Davis like drag on her cigarette. The other guys strolled around the room, eventually flopping here and there. Harrys eyes bugged when he saw Lee. She looked like one of the show girls you see in some of the magazines (her hair was shoulder length and golden blond and she was always smartly in drag), a real doll. Harry kept staring, not digging the score. He had never been to Goldies before and he thought maybe she was Rosie the freak he had heard the guys talk about, but man, she didnt look like no freak. She looked like a real fine piecea ass. Goldie prepared drinks, putting a bennie in each, and stepped lightly through the rooms dispensing them, smiling and simply brimming over with joy. Lee told Rosie to bring her another pack of cigarettes and when Rosie simpered and said no Lee pointed a finger at her and told her to bring them here at once or you will be out on the street with the other freaks, Miss Cocksucker. (Harry looked at Lee, still puzzled, then figured she must be one of the queens. But shes still a fine piecea ass.) Rosie threw the cigarettes to Lee and ran to the bathroom and pounded on the door until Camille unlocked it, then stepped around her and sat on the floor between the sink and the toilet-bowl. O really Rosie. I mean! Camille sniffed, primped her hair again, peeked out, walked to the kitchen and slowly inched her way to the living room hoping her makeup was on properly (that light over the mirror is simply terrible) and glided into the room and slowly lowered herself beside Goldie and, as did the other girls, surveyed the prospective suitors. Her eyes almost blurred with excitement. They had such hard looks. Why their eyes went right through you as if you were naked. She squirmed slightly. But it is wonderful. But what should she do? Of course she had never even so much as hinted the truth to the other girls, but she was a virgin. She had talked with a few of the queens back home and they told her how to go about
doing
it, always cautioning her never, but never to take it out of her mouth when he was coming because it might just get all over you and in your eyes and you know honey, you can go blind from that, and anyway thats the moment when everything
just explodes and you wont want to take it out … But how do you start? what do you say??? O, I hope everything will be alright.