Suttree(154)
He opened the door and turned on the light. She stood in a cellar. Fire showed in the slotted mouth of the furnace and a wild melee of piping reeled away over the ceiling, their own shadows dipping in the slight swing of the lightbulb from its cord. A deep musty smell. She turned and looked at him. I must be crazy, she said. Will someone tell me what I’m doing here?
He crossed to the door of his room.
What’s that, the coalbin?
He turned the light on in his cubicle and ushered her in. She leaned in the doorway with one hand on his shoulder. Well, she said.
Go ahead.
He closed the door. They sat on the bed and kissed. They fumbled with each other. Mmm, she said. She leaned and licked his ear and whispered in. What you dont do right, she said, you’re going to have to do over. Winter sunlight parried from an upper wall fell over them from the high window. He lay awake in the narrow cot, one hand dangling on the floor. He turned to look at her. Pull back these covers from her chin. Is she gross? Is she horrid? Is she old?
She lay slackmouthed in sleep and not unlovely. He laid his face against her full breasts and slept again.
When he woke she was sitting on the edge of the bed in one of his shirts smiling down at him, her ashblond hair tumbled about her face. She was holding a cup of coffee for him.
Hi, he said.
Hello lover. Are you ready for liquids?
Mggh.
Yes, I know. Just sit up a bit. She fluffed the pillow with one hand and then held the cup to his lips.
What time is it?
Noon.
Do you have to go?
Yes. She brushed back his hair.
He drank the coffee.
I copped one of your shirts, she said.
You wont leave those bumps in it will you?
No, she said, taking the cup. She leaned over him. I wont leave anything messed up or marked on except you. She kissed him. She tasted of mint. She ran her hand down his belly. Oh my, she said.
What do you want? said Suttree grinning.
When he woke again she was dressed and sitting at the table combing her hair. He watched her. She put the comb in her purse and snapped it shut and turned around and came over to the bed.
I’ve got to go, baby.
Well.
Is that laundry tub what you bathe in?
Yes. Such as it is.
I was stripped off out there washing my pussy when some spade came in. An old guy. He almost fainted.
Marvelous, said Suttree. What did he say?
Well, he had on this crazy hat and he took it off and began to bow and to back out the door saying: Scuse me mam, scuse me mam.
God help him. He’ll be more peculiar than ever.
She brushed his hair back. When will I see you?
I dont know.
What are you doing tonight?
Nothing. Are you asking for a date?
Do you mind?
No.
May I see you this evening?
It’ll have to be someplace cheap.
I’ve got some money. Baby dont. I’ve really got to go. Baby.
She left in midafternoon. He lay in the bed a depleted potentate. He felt very good.
A wan midwinter sun hung low and oblong under the leeward fishshaped clouds. A sun hotjowled and squat in the seeping lavender dusk. Down this narrow street where the chinese sign glows green. She is waiting, cupboarded in one of the high booths. A congenial oriental to bid good evening. Suttree saw her smile from a far corner.
No. With the young lady there.
The waitress smiled.
Hello baby.
Hello.
He slid into the seat opposite but she took his hand. Come sit by me.
He stood up again. Come over here, he said. So we dont bump elbows.
You’re a southpaw.
Yes.
She rubbed past him. Nice, she said.
She was wearing a pale yellow knit dress that fit her all over and she looked very good. They sat and looked at each other and she leaned and kissed him.
How long have you been here? he said.
I dont know. Half hour.
I didnt know I was so late.
I dont care. I dont mind waiting for you as long as you come.
Did you get wet?
No. I got a cab. Is it still raining out?
No. What shall we eat?
Do you want me to make a suggestion? She was smiling at him and she had taken his elbow in both hands.
No, he said.
They sat together in the booth looking over the newspapersize menu.
The butterfly shrimp are good.
Why dont you order for us.
Okay. What about the combination platter.
That sounds good. Does it have the sweet and sour pork?
Yes. And let’s get some eggrolls.
With hot mustard.
You like hot mustard?
Yes. Do you?
I love it. They have some here that will completely remove your sinuses.
I’m hip.
There was no one else in the restaurant. It grew dark outside the window and she held his arm and they sipped tea and waited for the food to come.
They went to a movie. He smiled at the memories induced. Sitting rigid and frightened alongside some girlchild trying to muster the courage to take her hand.
The two of them whispering sexual slanders concerning the actors into each other’s ear, vying to elaborate the most outrageous perversions. They had coffee at the Farragut coffee shop and they walked through the streets in the small rain and muted lights and looked in the shopwindows, wrapped in their coats and huddled close and the smell of her good perfume and her hair. And she who had not stopped smiling like a happy cat the evening long took him by the arm down Gay Street to her hotel and through the steamed glass doors into the lobby, the old white tiles and potted plants and polished brasswork. She sauntered to the desk and got her key and came back and took him by the arm and they went to the elevator with a small tancolored bellhop who had been reading the paper at a table in the lobby.