Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [145]
Cliff thought she really knew how to enjoy it the first time. It was no short quick thing but pretty liberal. They were there for a while. Then he took her back to the Silver Dollar, and got her address.
After that, Cliff would go to her place in Springville every few nights and stay over. Being divorced from his wife hadn't ended his marriage altogether. Some of the roots were cut but not all. Even if he was seeing a few girls, there were still a lot of twinges in his feelings. It was all the nicer, therefore, what he and Nicole had, since they didn't ask too much of each other. He could see whoever he wanted to see, and Nicole had her friends-in fact, once or twice when he knocked on the door, she had to tell him there was company.
He always said, "I'm not going to butt into your business." Never really questioned her. On the other hand, there were times he went over and didn't make love or nothing, just talked out what she was bothered about. Nicole would say she liked somebody with her. Anybody could see she hated to be alone.
It was a nice friendship. If she was out of cigarettes, he'd get her a pack. If she had her period, he'd ride to the store, bring Tampax back. Wasn't really rich, but tried to help her. Besides, he never got too curious about the guy with the motorcycle-on those times Cliff came and there was company, the same bike always sat in the parking lot.
2
Same story as Cliff. Nicole met Tom while out with Sue. One night, she was feeling so depressed she actually fell asleep in the car and Sue drove her to a truck stop, dragged her in fact, and there was Tom eating in the next booth. Tom Dynamite, who worked in a gas station. He was coming down off acid, and they got to talk a little. Although they never had much to say, he took her home on his motorcycle, and they became very good friends. Never talked too much, but close. Quite a closeness.
Sometimes, when Cliff would go over, she'd be sitting in the dark. Meditating, she said. There were letters on the table in front of her. It would look like she had been reading before she turned off the lamp. Gary was writing her two letters a day, she would explain, and they were long letters. Looked to be five or ten pages on long yellow sheets.
Did she read all of them, Cliff wanted to know.
Well, nearly all. He wrote so much. Maybe she didn't read every last word religiously if you got down to it. There were a few she just scrounged through.
Then she shook her head. No, she said, she really read all of them.
August 4
Will you send me a picture of you. I want one real bad. In color 'cause you have such beautiful color to you. Hope I see you again. I get choked up sometimes when I look at you. The last few times I've seen you that's happened to me. I kind of lose my sense of time and place. It's like shifting into another awareness almost sorta going blank and being aware only of a Love (capitol L) that can't adequately be put into words. I look into your eyes and I can see for at least a thousand years. I see no evil in you, or menace. I see beauty and strength and love that doesn't have any bullshit to it. You're just you and you're real and you're not afraid, are you? I haven't seen you show any fear. That's remarkable. Fear is an ugly thing. I haven't seen any in you. It's like you've passed your test in life and know it. Like you've been up to the edge. And looked over. You're precious, Nicole. These things I write here are things I know are true and they make up part of the reason that I love you so utterly. I love that vein in your forehead. And I love the vein in your right tit. Didn't know I loved that one, did you?
Saturday, August 7
I can hear a radio in the background and they're playing "Afternoon Delight." We had a few afternoon delights, didn't we? I made you come one time in the afternoon and we were both covered with sweat. I could have held you forever then.
When I thought I had lost you-Nicole, that Monday nite, the next day, and