Women - Charles Bukowski [171]
Somehow her face didn’t seem to be as hard anymore….
43
I phoned her. It was 1 AM. I went over.
Tammie lived in a small bungalow behind a house.
She let me in.
“Be quiet. Don’t wake Dancy. She’s my daughter. She’s 6 years old and she’s asleep in the bedroom.”
I had a 6-pack of beer. Tammie put it in the refrigerator and came out with two bottles.
“My daughter mustn’t see anything. I still have the two bad teeth which makes my breath bad. We can’t kiss.”
“All right.”
The bedroom door was closed.
“Look,” she said, “I’ve got to take some vitamin B. And I’m going to have to pull my pants down and stab myself in the ass. Look the other way.”
“All right.”
I watched her draw liquid into the syringe. I looked the other way.
“I’ve got to get it all,” she said.
When it was done she turned on a small red radio.
“Nice place you got here.”
“I’m a month behind on the rent.”
“Oh…”
“It’s all right. The landlord—he lives in the place up front—I can hold him off.”
“Good.”
“He’s married, the old fuck. And guess what?”
“I can’t.”
“The other day his wife was gone somewhere and the old fuck asked me to come over. I went over and sat down and guess what?”
“He pulled it out.”
“No, he put on dirty movies. He thought that shit would turn me on.”
“It didn’t?”
“I said, ‘Mr. Miller, I have to leave now. I have to pick Dancy up at school.’”
Tammie gave me an upper. We talked and talked. And drank beer.
At 6 AM Tammie opened the couch we had been sitting on. There was a blanket. We took off our shoes and climbed under the blanket with our clothes on. I held her from the back, my face in all that red hair. I got hard. I dug it into her from behind, through her clothing. I heard her fingers clawing and digging into the edge of the couch.
“I’ve got to go,” I told Tammie.
“Listen, all I’ve got to do is to make Dancy some breakfast and drive her to school. It’s O.K. if she sees you. Just wait here until I get back.”
“I’m going,” I said.
I drove home, drunk. The sun was really up, painful and yellow….
44
I had been sleeping on a terrible mattress with the springs sticking into me for several years. That afternoon when I awakened I pulled the mattress off the bed, dragged it outside, and leaned it against the trashbin.
I walked back in and left the door open.
It was 2 PM and hot.
Tammie walked in and sat on the couch.
“I’ve got to go,” I told her. “I’ve got to go buy a mattress.”
“A mattress? Well, I’ll leave.”
“No, Tammie, wait. Please. The whole thing will take about 15 minutes. Wait here and have a beer.”
“All right,” she said….
There was a rebuilt mattress shop about three blocks down on Western. I parked in front and ran through the door. “Fellows! I need a mattress…FAST!”
“What kind of bed?”
“Double.”
“We’ve got this one for $35.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Can you take it in your car?”
“I’ve got a Volks.”
“All right, we’ll deliver it. Address?”
Tammie was still there when I got back.
“Where’s the mattress?”
“It’ll be along. Have another beer. You got a pill?”
She gave me a pill. The light shot through her red hair.
Tammie had been voted Miss Sunny Bunny at the Orange County Fair in 1973. It was four years later now, but she still had it. She was big and ripe in all the right places.
The delivery man was at the door with the mattress.
“Let me help you.”
The delivery man was a good soul. He helped me put it on the bed. Then he saw Tammie sitting on the couch. He grinned. “Hi,” he said to her.
“Thanks very much,” I told him. I gave him 3 dollars and he left.
I went into the bedroom and looked at the mattress. Tammie followed. The mattress was wrapped in cellophane. I began ripping it off. Tammie helped.
“Look at it. It’s pretty,” she said.
“Yes, it is.”
It was bright and colorful. Roses, stems, leaves, curling vines. It looked like the Garden of Eden, and for $35.
Tammie looked at it. “That mattress turns me on. I want to break it in. I want to be the first woman to fuck you on that mattress.”
“I wonder who will be the second?”
Tammie walked into the bathroom.