26

"I CAN'T STAND it no more. That's it, that is it." Marie's eyes were like red stars.

Phyllis frowned as she examined the contents of the folded invoice Marie had handed her. It was a bill addressed to Tommy from the Saw Mill River Motel.

"Now, honey, you don't know for sure." Phyllis' voice sounded weak.

Marie propped her elbows on the kitchen table, her mouth resting against the back of her hand. Balefully she stared at Phyllis.

"It could, could be business. You don't..."

Marie shut her eyes as if to acknowledge a headache. "Just stop. I'm not a kid an' neither are you. At least he could have the goddamn decency not to have the goddamn bill mailed here." She hunched her shoulders and shivered. "Stupid. I don't even know why I'm getting so goddamn upset. I knew all along."

Something snakelike slithered rapidly through Phyllis. An awful tingle. "Whadya mean?"

Marie exhaled through her nose and pushed back strands of hair from her forehead. She felt like she had a fever.

"Go do your wash," she dismissed her sister-in-law with contempt.

"Whadya mean you knew?" Phyllis pulled out a cigarette, forgetting the unlit one between her lips. Marie took the cigarette from her hand and lit it, dropping the lighter in front of Phyllis. Her forehead wrinkled as she exhaled.

"For years an' years an' years..." Her voice trailed off. "I dunno what I'm makin' such a goddamn federal production for, I really don't. We shoulda been divorced after a year, before I even got pregnant with Stony. It was good when we dated, it was good for a couple a months after that, then... I dunno. The cheating isn't even it. It's somethin' that happens before that." She stared at her cold coffee. "There's this one moment, this one moment when you realize that after all those I love you's you say to each other for hours, days, months, years even, after all those I love you's you realize that somebody's lyin'. It's like at some point your heart goes on automatic pilot, an' no matter how you hold onto each other, an' no matter how it feels in bed, you know the whole damn thing's a crock An' you feel lonely, you feel hurt, you feel angry, but I'll tell you the truth, what you really feel is empty, like a big wind tunnel. And, honey, that's the most godawful feeling of all. Because then, you just died."

Phyllis wanted to shake her head violently, scream at Marie to shut up, but she felt that if she moved, if she so much as lifted a finger, something inside would shatter.

"After that you just get wrapped up in the bullshit. It feels like all that matters anymore is who's right, who gets the credit, who wins today. I mean when you're forty-five, who... the... hell cares? Who the hell is keepin' score? Even a lousy nigger pushin' a broom for twenny-five years gets a goddamn gold watch. Whadda you get?"

She stabbed out her cigarette.

"They all cheat, they're all the same. They're like a goddamn army marchin' off to... I dunno. Maybe I should take one a those motel management courses, I'd make a mint."

"Not Chubby." Phyllis stared at Marie, shaking her head slowly, afraid to take her eyes from Marie's face. "Not Chubby."

Marie said nothing, a bitter half smile forming.

Phyllis felt like she had never really seen Marie before. Fat, ugly, horrible bitch. "No day, no way, not Chubby."

After Phyllis left, Marie threw out the invoice and started doing the dishes. She felt a little better now, she even felt a little sympathetic to Tommy. After all, they hadn't screwed in six months—can't expect a man like Tommy not to get restless. It hadn't always been like that, especially in the beginning. That first time in Tommy's parents' house—bled like a gusher. Tommy cried when he came, in the beginning he always cried when he came. The white sheets—when they'd finished Tommy saw the bloodstains and said, "Hey! It's a Jap flag!" He scrubbed like crazy at the stain, throwing out the sheets, throwing out the mattress, throwing out the box spring, scrubbing the floor. We had a fire, Dad. I think Louie dropped a live butt on the bed. I took care of it. Chubby got grounded for two weeks, wouldn't talk to Tommy for a month. Until the wedding. Gave us rubber sheets and a fireman's hat for a present. Elsie gave us a toaster. Mama gave us a thousand dollars and great-grandma's dinner linens. Lefty and Sy and Frankie Finnegan chipped in for a movie projector. Gabby and Blossom got us that phonograph. Chubby talking about this skinny Jewish girl he met named Phyllis. Tommy's father kissing Tommy. Chubby crying. Tommy's father dancing with Mama. Tommy's mother puking on the dais. Theresa Finnelli had a crush. Caught the flowers. Married a lawyer. Bought a house on Pelham Parkway and changed her name to Inez. Niagara Falls. From the rear. Too scared. Never again. First anniversary. Too drunk. Too dry. No Vaseline. Tommy wanted to use toothpaste. This way I can eat you out and brush my teeth at the same time. Slap. He slapped back, walking out. A terrific cry. Lonely. Called Mama. So sad. Mama said... what did she say? Tommy came back two hours later with flowers. Corny. Put toothpaste in his eggs. His balls so big they would spill out of my palm. Like to hold them when he...

Marie realized that she was washing dishes she had just washed a minute before, taking them out of the drainboard and then putting them back.

***

Stony ambled into Butler's store, his hands behind his back. Behind the counter Butler looked up, then returned his attention to an order form from a hosiery jobber. Stony watched him in silence. Butler couldn't concentrate, but he refused to look at Stony. Stony produced a champagne bottle from behind his back, and smacked it down on the order form.

"Here, yah dumb fuck. If you're gonna bury yourself in here, at least do it in style."

Butler glanced at the bottle, smirked, then reached over the counter and hugged Stony. "Asshole." Butler lightly patted his back.

Stony disengaged himself. "You got glasses?"

"I got some paper cups in back." Butler moved to the rear.

"Class, real class. I bring in champagne an' he comes up with the sanitary Lilys."

"Whatta you bitchin' about? That's a three-dollar bottle a Cold Duck."

"Three ninety-five." Stony popped the cork, hitting the fan. He poured two shots. Butler picked up his drink. "Hold it. You gotta do it like this." Stony raised his cup, then carefully linked elbows with Butler. "Continental style."

"Faggot."

"L'chaiym."

They downed their drinks in one gulp.

"Nineteen seventy-four, an excellent year." Butler smacked his lips and belched.

"Yeah, for Tab. What time you close up?"

Butler looked at his watch. "Any time now."

"Well, lock the door and let's finish off this bad boy."

Butler hung the "closed" sign on the inside of the glass door and locked up nice. Stony refilled the cups. Butler made himself comfortable on a padded stool while he delicately sipped his drink. Stony caught his hand. "No, no, don't sip. The true flavor of Cold Duck can only be appreciated when chugged." Stony threw back his head and emptied the cup. "See, that way it tickles your nose."

"Hey, where'd you learn all this stuff?"

"I'm a charter member of the Frank De Nardo Memorial Drinking Society."

"Bad taste." Butler shook his head sadly. "Bad taste."

Frankie De Nardo, a friend of theirs, had died at fourteen by downing a quart of straight gin for a ten-dollar bet.

"Shut up and drink." Stony poured off two more. "Hey, speaking of Frank, your uncle really flew the coop, hah?"

"Yeah, he really got shook. You know, times change. The poor guy thought he was still livin' in a Jewish-Italian neighborhood."

"Yeah, an' Roosevelt's still the Prez."

"Teddy Roosevelt." Butler poured himself another.

"So you're really gonna do it, huh?" Stony smirked.

"Yeah, I'm really gonna do it."

"Butler's Hosiery Palace."

"Butler's Hosiery Palace."

They smiled at each other, then cracked up.

"To the Palace!" Stony raised his cup. Butler tried to link elbows, but Stony pushed him off. "Whatta you goin' queer on me here?"

"No man! That's continental style!"

"It's Greek to me." Stony poured another. Butler sipped. "Get it?"

"Get what?"

"It's Greek to me."

"So?"

"Greek, you know, up the ass? Queer?" Stony grinned expectantly. He was beginning to have a hard time focusing his eyes.

"Looka this fuckin' guy!" Butler tilted his chin in Stony's direction. "The world's only eighteen-year-old sot."

"Butler, you got no sense a humor. That's the first sign a someone goin' insane, they lose their sense a humor." Stony poured himself another, splashing the counter. Butler produced a roll of paper towels, started sopping up the mess.

"Extra absorbency, hah? Looka this fuckin' guy." Stony cautiously filled his cup, then moved the bottle to Butler's cup.

"So, Stones, what's happenin' with you? How's that construction thing goin'?" Butler poured himself two fingers.

Stony sighed, elbows on the counter, and rolled his forehead on his folded wrists. "I dunno... I dunno what to tell you." He looked up and covered his mouth, rubbing it absently with his fingers. He seemed to sober up. "Lotta pressure, Butler, lotta pressure."

"What, the construction work?"

"Nah, the job's a gut, no sweat. It's jerk-off work. I'm talkin' about somethin' else."

"What?"

"I dunno." Stony pushed away from the counter, shoved his hands into his back pockets and paced the floor. "I finished up today, so now I can go back to the hospital, right? And I can do it too, you know? It's completely on me."

"So what's the problem?" Butler set the bottle under the counter.

Stony reached over and retrieved it. "I was thinkin' about you this week, takin' over the store, what you said to me on the phone, you know, if I work with my family, like, so what? You know? I mean, shit, Butler, they're such a heavy number on my head, you know, like I love them, I don't wanna hurt them, or anything, ah, I dunno what the fuck to do. I don't wanna be a fuckin' construction worker but then I think, what's the dif? A job's a job, right? I mean, it's only what you do for bucks, right? What the fuck do I know about hospitals? I mean, who the fuck do I think I am, Albert Schweitzer? I go to the hospital to help people an' I kill my family."

"You ain't killin' anybody, an' gimme the fuckin' bottle. I don't wanna hold your head over the bowl all night."

Stony didn't resist. "I talked to that cat Harris, remember him? He knows... he knows what's goin' down. I was all gung-ho with the hospital, the this, the that. You know what he said to me? Here I think the cat's gonna be all hurrahs and back slaps, he says to me, 'I hope you're strong enough.' I figure, 'Fuck him, what's that, code?' Strong enough for what? An' now I know, I really know. He said to me leaving home is the hardest thing in the world. I said, 'Who's leavin' home?' The fuckin' construction site's farther away than the goddamn hospital." Stony rubbed his mouth and nodded solemnly. "He's right though, Butler, he's right. I do that hospital gig an' I'm on my way out. Gettin' that gig is like gettin' a divorce from them, you know? Really, it's like a split wit' that whole head set. There's no way they could ever understand or dig what I'm into. We'd have too many fuckin' fights. I'd have to get my own crib, you know?"

"So?"

"So first I get my own crib. I go over for dinner a few times a week, and we'd fight at dinner, 'cause all the daily fights I would be havin' if I was still livin' there would all get stored up for the times I would visit, so then I'd start comin' over less an' less, an' the fights would get more concentrated, you follow? Finally, I'd stop goin' over there all together."

"How do you know?"

"I know, I know."

"So, you're not gonna do the hospital, right?"

"No, no. I'm gonna do it, these are just the things runnin' through my head."

"Uh-huh, what else is runnin' through yah head?"

"Then I started thinkin' about Albert. That kid's in bad fuckin' shape, man. He needs me around. They'll eat him alive if I ain't there. I tell you, if I ever split, he'll be the first casualty. Scumbag Harris was the one who told me that. The fuckin' guy pulls my coat about Albert, then he sets me up to split."

"You on the horns a the dilemma."

"I is on the hone a the scone." Stony chuckled. "But it ain't funny. None a this shit is funny. I'm in a lotta fuckin' pain, Butler. I feel like I'm jugglin' fifty-two oranges. It's not just me I'm thinkin' about, it's my parents. Chubby, Albert, the kids in the hospital, it's all them people. They're like flies aroun' my head, an' I jus' can't think straight."

"What kicked this off?" Butler looked around him in bewilderment. "Last I heard you were flyin' so high I thought you was gonna be the next Ben Casey."

"You know what turned me around? I'll tell you honest. I brought Albert into the hospital to meet the kids I was workin' with, right? He's playin' with 'em, everything's cool, then some nurse asks me who he is. I say he's my brother, she says he's gotta split, no kids allowed for visits. I was disappointed but I figure rules is rules so I go to take him home and get to the front door, some nurse says where you takin' that kid? I said I'm takin' him home. You know what she says? She says lemme see his discharge slip. Can you fuckin' believe that? I says he's my goddamn brother, he ain't no patient. She wouldn't let him leave until she checked it out with the children's ward! At first I was so fuckin' pissed I was spittin' blood, but then I took a good look at him, and I'll tell you something, if I was that nurse, I would have done the same fuckin' thing. That kid not only looked like a patient, but he didn't look in any way ready for a discharge either." Stony nodded emphatically. "That shook me up. He didn't look no different than the little niggers in wheelchairs, you know? He's a little nigger inna wheelchair too. Then I started thinkin', my whole family is just a bunch a little niggers in wheelchairs. They're all fuckin' cripples comin' an' goin'. Even my old lady. I usually just write her off as a dinosaur, a real whacko with a mean streak as long as my leg, but like, she don't know any better. I mean the way she acts aroun' Albert. My grandmother, my ol lady's mother, man, you wanna hear horror stories, you gotta hear what my mother had to go through as a kid with this cunt. You know when my old lady was six, her mother broke her nose because she wouldn't go to the store? Right? So what's somebody who had to go through that gonna be like as a mother? An' then my old man and Chubby, two fuckin' fifty-year-old pussy chasers. Whatta they tryin' a prove? Old men playin' stink-finger. Do you get what I'm tryin' to say? I mean, my whole family's like a private ward. There's enough goddamn pain in that house to knock a whole city block on its ass. An' I love them Butler, and they love me. If I was really serious about helpin' little niggers in wheelchairs I don't hafta work in no hospital."

"Yeah, yeah. O.K. I hear what you're sayin'. Stones, but dig, the whole fuckin' world's like that, man. I mean check out the sickos who come in here, the six-foot-eight jobs wit' the peachpuff this an' the peter pan that, I mean, everybody's out to lunch, you know? The whole fuckin' Bronx is like a combination open-air loony bin an' Red Cross disaster tent, right? Your family ain't so special. It sounds to me like you're scared a doin' what you want, an' I know what you want, baby, you want that hospital, an' I agree wit' everything you're sayin' except the conclusion, an' you can jerk off this one, an' jerk off that one, an' you can jerk off me, but don't fuckin'jerk off yourself, sweetheart, 'cause twenty years from now you're gonna wind up just like yer old man with your fuckin' putz in your hand hanging outside some bar in Yonkers, married to some bitch with a heart like a piece a coal, and a kid for a punching bag, O.K.? You see that now, man, an' if I was you I'd fuckin' run the other way, but you're talkin' about divin' in an' savin' everybody. You ain't savin' shit, there's sharks in them waters an' you're gonna get eaten. Don't worry about Albert, he'll sink or swim on his own. You're just usin' him as an excuse, you don't have to sit on his head to look out for him. If you wanna split, you split. You just worry about your own ass. 'Cause I see it, baby, they're starting to nibble you to death right now. You talk about love. Your fuckin' Uncle Chubby loves you so much, he loved you right outta what coulda been something very tight with a very heavy person."

"Who?"

"Annette."

"Annette! She's a fuckin' pump!"

"Oh yeah? You didn't sound like that three weeks ago. I talked to her last week; she came in here askin' about you. She told me all about the things you was talkin' about with her, an' how you douched her almost right away after that night, an' I know Chubby had a hand in it, 'cause I told him you was runnin' with her, an' I saw that look on his face, and I knew that cocksucker was gonna pull a number on you to fuck things up, and I swear to you, Stones, I could just hear him. 'You know I love you like my own kid, Stony,' am I right? An' you let him jerk you off, an' you blew a fine, together lady. I didn't know how together she was 'cause I never talked to her until she came in here and I'm an asshole for believin' all the trash that goes down about her, but you knew better, you bastard, an' you fuckin' blew it right out your ass 'cause a your goddamn family. An' I'll tell you somethin' else. It's more than Chubby, you dumped her 'cause she was talkin' straight to you just like I am now and you didn't want to hear that 'cause it scared the shit out of you." Butler slammed his fist down on the counter and shook his finger in Stony's face. "You goddamn phony, you're talkin' about love and takin' care a people, an' you stepped all over her 'cause she cared about you enough to talk straight life. Well, sucker, I'll tell you somethin' else, I ain't waitin' to get stepped on just 'cause I care about you. You don't do that hospital number, an' it's all over between us—an' that's the God's honest truth. 'Cause I don't dig little niggers in wheelchairs, an' I don't want 'em for friends, an' I ain't sittin' by an' watchin' you turn into one. 'Cause that's what you were that night when you eighty-sixed Annette. You were nothin' but a little nigger in a wheelchair, an' the more you hang aroun' that family a yours the more you gonna be like that. See, Stony, I know you goof on the store, an' maybe I don't have that much in the brains department, but at least I got the fuckin' heart to go and get what I want outta life. An' I don't wanna be around people who can't cut it. You hear me? An' that includes you! An' I don't wanna hear any a this shit about all the goddamn pain in your family an' blah blah blah. You just worry about your own goddamn pain." Butler was red-faced. He pulled up the bottle and took a slug.

"Hey lissen, you hard-on, don't gimme no ultimatums. I told you these are just the fuckin' thoughts in my head. I said I was gonna do the hospital." Stony waved his arms around his head as he yelled, but there was a trace of hesitation in his voice. "I don't understand you, Butler. I come in here as a friend, I bring champagne. Whatta you, some kinda hot shit now you got a pissant store?" Stony grabbed the Cold Duck and slapped the cork into the bottle. "I'll fuckin' know better next time before I pour out my heart to any friends!" Holding the bottle by the neck he strode to the door and pulled on the doorknob.

Twirling the key ring around his finger, Butler slowly came from behind the counter. "Hey, Stony? If you're not in the hospital Monday, don't come by here Monday night." Butler unlocked the door.

"No sweat, fucko." Stony stormed out into the street, trashing the Cold Duck in the nearest garbage can.

***

Stony drove out to Orchard Beach. He didn't know where else to go. He sat on the deserted boardwalk chain-smoking cigarettes and watching the waves. The beach was like a city dump with sand. A few old guys wandered around with headphones and long metal detectors combing the sand for lost change and cheap jewelry. A soft twilight wind made Stony shiver. Ever since Butler got that fucking store he sure was going through some changes. All bad. Uppity bastard. He didn't understand shit. Just like Annette. They probably started balling the minute she walked in the store. Albert'll sink or swim on his own. In a pig's ass. Stony thought of that day Albert came to the hospital. He didn't even know Albert could play Chinese checkers. Worry about your own goddamn pain ... Butler and his fucking ultimatums.

Stony got up, yawned and walked over to a concrete pillbox hot dog stand. Two Puerto Ricans in baggy white shirts were wiping down a grease-caked grill. "Gimme a frank."

"We're closed, man," one of them said, his back to Stony.

"You look open to me." Stony didn't give a shit.

"Register's closed."

Stony walked off, hands in his pockets, and ambled down the boardwalk. You know, you're killing me. Stony... You know you're killing your father... what a fucking crock. Chubby and Tommy probably got together and rehearsed. He remembered Chubby dueling those guys in the hallway. Albert did a better job in the rec room than himself. I think you're scared, Stony.

Stony imagined he was in a movie walking alone on the beach into the sun, a sad soundtrack playing in the background.

A lumpy, gray-haired lady trudged up the beach toward the boardwalk. She wore a dripping one-piece black swimsuit and a white rubber swimming cap—the turned-up flaps jutting out over her ears like airplane wings. She placed a thumb against one nostril and blew out a gob of snot. Stony shuddered, leaning over the rail. He covered his face with his hands and peeked at the sea through his fingers.

***

Tommy came home at two-thirty in the morning. He was shit-faced, beat and sated. Earlier in the evening he'd run into that chick who took on him and Chubby last month, grabbed her and a bottle of Canadian and rented a room for a few hours at the Saw Mill River Motel where he was a regular. She came four times, twice when he went down on her and twice when they fucked. He came in her mouth and he came in her box. Everybody went home happy.

Tommy sneaked past the kitchen where Marie sat chain-smoking and waiting. Three steps past the kitchen Tommy stopped and backtracked.

"Whatta you doin' up?" he challenged.

"Where were you?" she asked flatly.

"Out."

"Where?"

"Out."

"Where?"

"Hey look, I was out, that's all you gotta know."

"Out at that motel?" As she stubbed out her cigarette she knocked the ashtray to the floor. Tommy's eyes narrowed. Then he noticed the half-empty fifth of Heaven Hill bourbon.

"You're drunk."

She rose shakily. "You think I'm stupid, don'cha?"

"I'm goinna sleep." Tommy started toward the bedroom, his mellow head burning away into an early hangover.

"I'm gonna cheat on you! Ya bastad!"

"Do whatcha want."

"Does she give you a good blowjob?" she shouted after him.

There was dead silence for about thirty seconds before Tommy reappeared in the doorway. "She gobbles it down like it was from the goddamn fountain of youth."

Marie felt as if she'd been hit full force with a breaker. The red rage drained from her face. She heard the bedroom door slam. She reached for the bourbon, but her hands were shaking so badly that the bottle slipped from her fingers and fell on its side. She watched it roll slowly to the edge of the table, disappear over the edge and crash on the linoleum.

"Cheat on you! Ya bastad," she mumbled as she cradled her head on her forearms and was swallowed up by a terrifying loneliness.