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diff --git a/79057-0.txt b/79057-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..608e250 --- /dev/null +++ b/79057-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9949 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79057 *** + + + First Love + + “Beebo,” Paula said, whispering so that Beebo had to bend her + head to hear her. “I’d like you to stay. Make yourself welcome. + Please.” + + Beebo was afraid to believe her ears. It seemed incredible that + this exquisite stranger should reach out for her from the middle + of nowhere. “Paula,” she said, “I think we’re both just lonely. I + think it would be best if I go. You don’t want to wake up + tomorrow and hate yourself.” She was still hedging about the + ultimate test with a girl. + + “I was lonely. I will be again if you go.” + + “Maybe you’d be better off lonely than sorry.” + + “Beebo, do I have to beg you?” Paula pleaded, her voice coming up + stronger with emotion. + + Beebo reached for her in one instinctive motion. “No, Paula, you + don’t have to beg me to do anything. Just ask me.” + + And Beebo Brinker, who had never done more than dream before, + slipped her arms around Paula and pulled her closer ... closer, + until their lips were touching.... + + + Other Original Gold Medal Books by Ann Bannon: + + ODD GIRL OUT + I AM A WOMAN + WOMEN IN THE SHADOWS + JOURNEY TO A WOMAN + THE MARRIAGE + + The Gold Medal seal on this book means it is not a reprint. To + select an original book, look for the Gold Medal seal. + + + + + Beebo + Brinker + + + by Ann Bannon + + An Original Gold Medal Novel + + + GOLD MEDAL BOOKS + Fawcett Publications, Inc., Greenwich, Connecticut + Member of American Book Publishers Council, Inc. + + + Copyright © 1962 Fawcett Publications, Inc. / First printing July + 1962. / All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce + this book or portions thereof. / All characters in this book are + fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely + coincidental. / Printed in the United States of America. + + + + + Beebo + Brinker + + +Jack Mann had seen enough in his life to swear off surprise forever. He +had seen the ports of the Pacific from the deck of a Navy hospital ship +during World War II. He had helped patch the endless cut and bloodied +bodies, torn every which way, some irreparably. He had seen the sensuous +Melanesian girls, the bronzed bare-chested surfers on Hawaiian beaches, +the sly stinking misery of the caves of Iwo Jima. + +A medical corpsman gets an eyeful—and a noseful—of human wretchedness +during a war. When it was over, Jack left the service with a vow to lead +a quiet uncomplicated life, and never to hurt anybody by so much as a +pinprick. It shot the bottom out of his plans to enter medical school, +but he let them go without undue regret. He’d be well along in his +thirties by the time he finished, and it didn’t seem worth it any more. + +So he completed the course he started before the war: engineering. And +after he got his degree he took a job in the New York office of a big +Chicago construction firm as head of drafting. + +During those war years, when Jack was holding heaving sailors over the +head and labeling countless blood samples, he had fallen in love. It was +a lousy affair, unhappy and violent. But peculiarly good now and then. +Good enough to sell him on Love for a long time. + +He organized his life around it. He earned his money to pamper whatever +passion came his way. That was the only real value his bank account held +for him; that, and helping stray people out of trouble, the way others +help stray cats. + +But by the time Jack reached his thirties, there had been too many who +took advantage of his generosity to swindle him; his confidence to +cuckold him; his affection to torment him. He turned cynic. There was +hope in him still, but he buttoned it down under his skepticism. + +He wanted to stabilize his life, settle down with one person and live +out a long rewarding love. But Jack Mann could only love other men: +boys, to be exact. Volatile, charming, will-o-the-wisp boys, who looked +him up Friday, loved him Saturday, and left him Sunday. They couldn’t +even spell “stabilize.” + +His emotional differentness had given Jack a good eye for people, a +knack for sizing them up fast. He usually knew what to expect from a boy +after talking to him twenty or thirty minutes, and he had learned not to +give in to the type who brought certain suffering—the type who couldn’t +spell. + +But Jack had also learned that he couldn’t live his life only for love. +The less romantic he got about it, the clearer his view of life became. +It didn’t make him happy, this cynicism. But it protected him from too +much hurt, and gave him a sort of sour wit and wisdom. + +Jack Mann was thirty-three years old, short in height, tall in +mentality. He was slight but tough: big-shouldered for his size and +deep-chested. His far-sighted eyes watched the world through a pair of +magnifying lenses, set in tortoise shell frames. + +They were seeing sharply these days, for Jack was between lovers: bored +and restless, but also healthy, wealthy, and on the wagon. When the new +love came along—and it would—he would stay up most nights, blow his +bankroll, and hit the bottle. It was nuts, but it happened every time. +It seemed to preserve his lost illusions for a while, till the new +“love” vanished and joined the countless old ones in his memory. + +Jack lived in Greenwich Village, near the bottom of Manhattan. It was +filled with aspiring young artists. Filled, too, with ambitious +businessmen with wives and families, who played hob with the local +bohemia. A rash of raids was in progress on the homosexual bar hangouts +at the moment, with cops rousting respectable beards-and-sandals off +their favorite park benches; hustling old dykes, who were Village +fixtures for eons, off the streets so they wouldn’t offend the +deodorized young middle-class wives. + +Jack was pondering the problem one May evening as he came up the subway +steps at 14th Street. At six o’clock the air was still violet-light. It +was a good time for ambling through the winding streets he had come to +know so well. + +He tacked neatly in and out through the spring mixture of tourists and +natives: young girls with new jobs and timid eyes; older girls with no +jobs and knowing eyes; quiet sensitive boys having intimate beers +together in small boites. Shops, clubs, shoebox theaters. It always +delighted him to see them, people and buildings both, blooming with the +weather. + + * * * * * + +Jack stopped to buy some knockwurst and sauerkraut in a German +delicatessen, eating them at the counter with an ale. + +When he left, feeling sage and prosperous, he saw a handsome girl +passing the shop, carrying a wicker suitcase in one hand. Her strong +face and bewildered eyes contradicted each other. Jack followed a few +feet behind her, intrigued. He had done this many a time, sometimes +meeting the appealing person behind the face, sometimes losing the face +forever in the swirling crowds. + +The girl he was tailing appeared to be in her late teens, big-tall, with +dark curly hair and blue eyes: Irish coloring, but not an Irish face. +She walked with long firm strides, yet clearly did not know where she +was. In her pocket was a yellow “Guide to Greenwich Village” with +creased pages. Twice she stopped to consult it, comparing what she read +to the unfamiliar milieu surrounding her. + +A sitting duck for fast operators, Jack thought. But something wary in +the way she held herself and eyed the crowd told him she knew that much +herself. She was trying to defend herself against them by suspecting +every passerby of ulterior motives. + +At the first street corner she nearly collided with a small crop-haired +butch, who said, “Hi, friend,” to her. The big girl stared for a moment, +surprised and uncertain, afraid to answer. She moved on, crossing the +street and detouring widely around a Beat with a fierce beard who sat +guarding his gouaches, watching her pass with a curious who-are-you? +look. + +Jack was amused at the girl’s odd air of authority, the set of her chin, +the strong rhythm of her walking. And yet, despite her efforts to look +self-assured, she was clearly no native New Yorker. Her face, when he +glimpsed it, was a map of confusion. + +Rather abruptly, as if suddenly tired, she stopped, and Jack waited +discreetly behind her, leaning against a railing and lighting a +cigarette, watching her with a casual air. + +She searched with travel-grimy hands for a cigarette in her pocket, but +found only tobacco crumbs. Wearily she let herself sag against a shop +window, evidently convinced it was silly to keep marching in the same +direction, just because she had started out in it. Better to rest, to +think a minute. Her gaze fell on Jack, who was studying her with a +little smile. She looked square at him, and then her eyes dropped. He +sensed something of her reaction: he was a strange man; she was a girl, +forlorn and alone in a city she didn’t know. And probably too damn poor +to squander money on cigarettes. + +Jack strolled over to her, pulling a pack from his pocket and extending +it with one cigarette bounced forward for her to take. She looked up, +startled. She was four inches taller than Jack. There was a small pause +and then she shook her head and looked away, afraid of him. + +“You’d take it if I were somebody’s grandmother,” he kidded her. “Don’t +hold it against me that I’m a man.” + +She gave him a tentative smile. + +“Come on, take it,” he urged. + +She accepted one cigarette, but still he held the pack toward her. “Take +’em all. I have plenty. You look like you could use these.” + +She obviously wanted to, but she said shyly in a round low voice, +“Thanks, but I can’t pay you.” + +Jack chuckled. “You’re a nice girl from a nice family,” he said. “Know +how I know? Oh, it’s not because you want to pay for the pack.” She +looked at him with guarded interest. “It’s because you’re afraid of me. +No, it’s true. That’s the mark of a nice girl, sad to say. Men scare +her. I can hear your mother telling you, ‘Dear, never take presents from +a strange man.’ Right?” + +She smiled at him. “Close enough,” she said softly, and inhaled some +smoke with a look of relief. + +“Well, consider this a loan,” he said, gesturing toward the cigarettes, +and then he tucked them in her pocket next to the “Guide.” She jumped at +the touch of his hand. He felt it but did not say anything. “You’re +pretty new, aren’t you?” he said. + +“I’m pretty used, if you want to know,” she said ruefully. + +Jack laughed. “How old? Seventeen?” + +“Do I look _that_ young?” she asked, dismayed. There was intelligence in +her regular features, but a pleasant country innocence, too. And she was +uncommonly handsome with her black wavy hair and restless blue eyes. + +“Do you have a name?” he asked. + +“Do you?” she countered, instantly defensive. + +He held out his hand affably and said, “I’m Jack Mann. Does that make +you feel any better?” + +She took his hand, cautiously at first, then gave it a firm shake. +“Should it?” she said. + +“Only if you live down here,” he answered. “Everybody knows I’m +harmless.” + +She seemed reassured. “I’m going to live here. I’m looking for a place +now.” She paused as if embarrassed. “I do have a name: Beebo Brinker.” + +He blinked. “Beebo?” he said. + +“It used to be Betty Jean. But I couldn’t say it right when I was +little.” + +They smoked a moment in silence and then Beebo said, “I guess I’d better +get going. I have to spend the night somewhere.” And she turned a sudden +pink, realizing the inference Jack might draw from her remark. +“Everybody” might know Jack down here, but Beebo wasn’t everybody. For +all she knew he was harmless as a shark. The mere fact that he had a +name wasn’t all _that_ reassuring. + +“Looks to me like you need some food first,” he said lightly. “There’s +always a sack somewhere.” + +“I don’t have much money.” + +“Better to spend it on food,” he said. “Anyway, what the hell, I’ll +treat you. There’s some good Wiener schnitzel about a block back.” He +tried to take her wicker case to carry it for her, but she pulled away, +offended as if his offer were a comment on her ability to take care of +herself. + +Jack stopped and laughed a little. “Look, my little friend,” he said +kindly. “When I first hit New York I was as pea-green as you are. +Somebody did this for me and let me save my few bucks for a room and job +hunting. This is my way of paying him back. Ten years from now, you’ll +do the same thing for the next guy. Fair?” + +It was hard for her to resist. She was almost shaky hungry; she was worn +out; she was lost. And Jack looked as kind as he was. It was a part of +his success in salvaging people: they liked his face. It was homely, but +in the good-humored amiable way that made him seem like an old friend in +a matter of minutes. + +Finally Beebo smiled at him. “Fair,” she said. “But I’ll pay you back, +Jack. I will.” + +They walked back to the German delicatessen, Beebo with a firm grip on +her suitcase. + +She finished her meal in ten minutes. Jack ordered another for her, over +her protests, kidding her about her appetite. + +“Jesus,” he said. “When did you eat last?” + +“Fort Worth.” + +“_Indiana?_” Jack stared. + +“Yes. I ate three sandwiches in the rest room, on the train. That was +yesterday.” Beebo drained her milk glass and put it on the table. The +pneumatic little blonde waitress brought the second plateful. Jack, +watching Beebo who was watching the waitress, saw her wide blue eyes +glide up and down the plump pink-uniformed body with curious interest. +Beebo pulled back, holding her breath as the waitress leaned over her to +set a basket of bread on the table, and there was a look of fear on her +face. + +Jack thought to himself, she’s afraid of her. Afraid of that bouncy +little bitch. Afraid of ... women? + +When she had finished eating, Beebo glanced up at him. For all her +physical sturdiness and arresting face, she was not a forward or a +confident girl. + +“You eat like a farm hand,” he chuckled. + +“I should. I was raised in farm country,” she said, looking away from +him. Her shyness beguiled him. “Thank you for the food.” + +“My pleasure.” He observed her through a scrim of cigarette smoke. “If I +weren’t afraid of scaring hell out of you, I’d ask you over to my place +for a drink,” he said. She blanched. “I mean, a drink of milk,” he said. + +“I don’t drink,” she told him apologetically, as if teetotaling were +something hick-town and unsophisticated. + +“Not even milk?” + +“Not with strange men.” + +“Am I really that strange?” he grinned, laughing at her again. + +“Am I really that funny?” she demanded. + +“No.” He reached over the table top unexpectedly and pressed her hand. +She tried to jerk it away but he held it tight, surprising her with his +strength. “You’re a lovely girl,” he said. It wasn’t suggestive or even +romantic. He didn’t mean it to be. “You’re a sweet young kid and you’re +lost and tired and frightened. You need one thing right now, Beebo, and +the rest will take care of itself.” + +“What’s that?” She retrieved her hand and tucked it behind her. + +“A friend.” + +She gazed at him, sizing him up, and then began to move from the booth. + +“I’m no wolf,” Jack said, sliding after her. “Can’t you tell? I just +like to help lost girls. I collect them.” And when she turned back with +a frown of disbelief, he shrugged. “Everybody’s got to have a hobby.” + +He bought some Dutch beer and sausage, paid the cashier, and walked with +Beebo out the front door. On the pavement she stopped, swinging her +wicker case around in front of her like a piece of fragile armor. Jack +saw the defensive glint in her eyes. + +“Okay, little lost friend,” he said. “You’re under no obligation to me. +If this bothers you, the hell with it. Find yourself a hotel room, a +park bench. I don’t care. Well ... I care, but I don’t want to scare you +any more.” + +Beebo hesitated a moment, then held out her hand and shook his. “Thanks +anyway, Jack. I’ll find you some day and pay you back,” she said. She +looked as much afraid to leave him as to stay with him. + +“So long, Beebo,” he said, dropping her hand. She walked away from him +backwards a few steps so she could keep an eye on him; turned around and +then turned back. + +Jack smiled at her. “I’m afraid I’m just about your safest bet,” he said +kindly. “If you knew how safe, you’d come along without a qualm.” + +And when he smiled she had to answer him. “All right,” she said, still +clutching her wicker bag in both hands. “But just so you’ll know: my +father taught me how to fight.” + +“Beebo, my dear,” he said as they began to walk toward his apartment, +“you could probably throw me twenty feet through the air if you had to +but you won’t have to. I have no designs on you. Honest to God. I don’t +even have a bunch of etchings to show you in my pad. Nothing but good +talk and cold beer. And a bed.” + +Beebo stopped in her tracks. + +“Well, the bed is good and cold too,” he said. “God, you’re a scary +one.” + +“Did you go home to bed with the first stranger you met in New York?” +she demanded. + +“Sure,” he said. “Doesn’t everybody?” + +She laughed at last, a full country sound that must have carried across +the hay fields, and followed him again. He walked, hands in pockets, +letting her curb her long stride to keep from getting ahead of him. But +when he tried to take her arm at a corner, she shied away, determined to +rely only on herself. + + * * * * * + +Jack unlocked the door of his small apartment, holding it with his foot +while Beebo went in. The corridor outside was littered with buckets, +planks, and ladders. “They’re redecorating the hall,” he explained. “We +like to put on a good front in this rattrap.” + +He headed for the kitchen with the bag of sausage and the beer, set them +on the counter, and sprang himself a can of cold brew. “What do you +want, Beebo? One of these?” He lifted the can. When she hesitated, he +said, “You don’t really want that milk, do you?” + +“Have you got something—weak?” + +“Well, I’ve got something colorful,” he said. “I don’t know how weak it +is.” He went down on his haunches in front of a small liquor chest and +foraged in it for a minute. “Somebody gave me this stuff for Christmas +and I’ve been trying to give it away ever since. Here we are.” + +He took out an ornate bottle, broke the seal and pulled the cork, and +got down a liqueur glass. When he up-ended the bottle, a rich green +liquid came out, moving at about the speed of cod-liver oil and looking +like some dollar-an-ounce shampoo for Park Avenue lovelies. The pungent +fumes of peppermint penetrated every crack in the wall. + +“What is it?” Beebo said, intimidated by the looks of it. + +“Peppermint schnapps,” Jack said. “God. It’s even worse than I thought. +Want to chicken out?” + +“I grew up in a town full of German farmers,” she said. “I should take +to schnapps like a kid to candy.” + +Jack handed over the glass. “Okay, it’s your stomach. Just don’t get +tanked on the stuff.” + +“I just want a taste. You make me feel babyish about the milk.” + +He picked up his beer and the schnapps bottle, and she followed him into +the living room. “You can drink all the milk you want, honey,” he said, +settling into a leather arm chair, “before the sun goes over the +yardarm. After that, we switch to spirits.” + +He turned on a phonograph nearby and turned the sound low. Beebo sat +down a few feet from him on the floor, pulling her skirt primly over her +knees. She seemed awkward in it, like a girl reared in jeans or +jodhpurs. Jack studied her while she took a sip of the schnapps, and +returned her smile when she looked up at him. “Good,” she said. “Like +the sundaes we used to get after the Saturday afternoon movie.” + +She was a strangely winning girl. Despite her size, her pink cheeks and +firm-muscled limbs, she seemed to need caring for. At one moment she +seemed wise and sad beyond her years, like a girl who has been forced to +grow up in a hothouse hurry. At the next, she was a picture of rural +naïveté that moved Jack; made him like her and want to help her. + +She wore a sporty jacket, the kind with a gold thread emblem on the +breast pocket; a man’s white shirt, open at the throat, tieless and gray +with travel dust; a straight tan cotton skirt that hugged her small +hips; white socks and tennis shoes. Her short hair had been combed +without the manufactured curls and varnished waves that marked so many +teen-agers. It was neat, but the natural curl was slowly fighting free +of the imposed order. + +Her eyes were an off-blue, and that was where the sadness showed. They +darted around the room, moving constantly, searching the shadows, trying +to assure her, visually at least, that there was nothing to fear. + +“What are you doing here in New York, Beebo?” Jack asked her. + +She looked into her glass and emptied it before she answered him. +“Looking for a job,” she said. “Me and everybody else, I guess.” + +“What kind of job?” + +“I don’t know,” she said softly. “Could I have a little more of that +stuff?” He handed the bottle down to her. “It’s not half as bad as it +looks.” + +“Did you have a job back home?” he asked. + +“No. I—I just finished high school.” + +“In the middle of May?” His brow puckered. “When I was in school they +used to keep us there till June, at least.” + +“Well, I—you see—it’s farm country,” she stammered. “They let kids out +early for spring planting.” + +“Jesus, honey, they gave that up in the last century.” + +“Not the little towns,” she said, suddenly on guard. + +Jack looked at his shoes, unwilling to distress her. “Your dad’s a +farmer, then?” he said. + +“No, a vet.” She was proud of it. “An animal doctor.” + +“Oh. What was he planting in the middle of May—chickens?” + +Beebo clamped her jaws together. He could see the muscles knot under her +skin. “If they let the farmer’s kids out early, they have to let the +vet’s kids out, too,” she said, trying to be calm. “Everyone at the same +time.” + +“Okay, don’t get mad,” he said and offered her a cigarette. She took it +after a pause that verged on a sulk, but insisted on lighting it for +herself. It evidently bothered her to let him perform the small +masculine courtesies for her, as if they were an encroachment on her +independence. + +“So what did they teach you in high school? Typing? Shorthand?” Jack +said. “What can you _do_?” + +Beebo blew smoke through her nose and finally gave him a woeful smile. +“I can castrate a hog,” she said. “I can deliver a calf. I can jump a +horse and I can run like hell.” She made a small sardonic laugh deep in +her throat. “God knows they need me in New York City.” + +Jack patted her shoulder. “You’ll go straight to the top, honey,” he +said. “But not here. Out west somewhere.” + +“It has to be here, even if I have to dig ditches,” she said, and the +wry amusement had left her. “I’m not going home.” + +“Where’s home?” + +“Wisconsin. A little farming town west of Milwaukee. Juniper Hill.” + +“Lots of cheese, beer, and German burghers?” he said. + +“Lots of mean-minded puritans,” she said bitterly. “Lots of hard hearts +and empty heads. For me ... lots of heartache and not much more.” + +“Why?” he said gently. + +She looked away, pouring some more schnapps for herself. Jack was glad +she had a small glass. + +“Why did you ditch Juniper Hill, Beebo?” he persisted. + +“I—just got into some trouble and ran away. Old story.” + +“And your parents disowned you?” + +“No. I only have my father—my mother died years ago. My father wanted me +to stay. But I’d had it.” + +Jack saw her chin tremble and he got up and brought her a box of +tissues. “Hell, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m too nosy. I thought it might +help to talk it out a little.” + +“It might,” she conceded, “but not now.” She sat rigidly, trying to +check her emotion. Jack admired her dignity. After a moment she added, +“My father—is a damn good man. He loves me and he tries to understand +me. He’s the only one who does.” + +“You mean the only one in Juniper Hill,” Jack said. “I’m doing my +damnedest to understand you too, Beebo.” + +She relented a little from her stiff reserve and said, “I don’t know why +you should, but—thanks.” + +“There must be other people in your life who tried to help, honey,” he +said. “Friends, sisters, brothers—” + +“One brother,” she said acidly. “Everything I ever did was inside-out, +ass-backwards, and dead wrong as far as Jim was concerned. I humiliated +him and he hated me for it. Oh, I was no dreamboat. I know that. I +deserved a wallop now and then. But not when I was down.” + +“That’s the way things go between brothers and sisters,” Jack said. +“They’re supposed to fight.” + +“You don’t understand the _reason_.” + +“Explain it to me, then.” Jack saw the tremor in her hand when she +ditched her cigarette. He let her finish another glassful of schnapps, +hoping it might relax her. Then he said, “Tell me the real reason why +you left Juniper Hill.” + +She answered at last in a dull voice, as if it didn’t matter any more +who knew the truth. “I was kicked out of school.” + +Jack studied her, perplexed. He would have been gently amused if she +hadn’t seemed so stricken by it all. “Well, honey, it only happens to +the best and the worst,” he said. “The worst get canned for being too +stupid and the best for being too smart. They damn near kicked me out +once.... I was one of the best.” He grinned. + +“Best, worst, or—or different,” Beebo said. “I was different. I mean, I +just didn’t fit in. I wasn’t like the rest. They didn’t want me around. +I guess they felt threatened, as if I were a nudist or a vegetarian, or +something. People don’t like you to be different. It scares them. They +think maybe some of it will rub off on them, and they can’t imagine +anything worse.” + +“Than becoming a vegetarian?” he said and downed the rest of his beer to +drown a chuckle. He set the glass on the floor by the leg of his chair. +“Are you a vegetarian, Beebo?” She shook her head. “A nudist?” + +“I’m just trying to make you understand,” she said, almost pleading, and +there was a real beacon of fear shining through her troubled eyes. + +Jack reached out his hand and held it toward her until she gave him one +of hers. “Are you afraid to tell me, Beebo?” he said. “Are you ashamed +of something? Something you did? Something you _are_?” + +She reclaimed her hand and pulled a piece of tissue from her bag, trying +to keep her back straight, her head high. But she folded suddenly around +a sob, bending over to hold herself, comfort herself. Jack took her +shoulders in his firm hands and said, “Whatever it is, you’ll lick it, +honey. I’ll help you if you’ll let me. I’m an old hand at this sort of +thing. I’ve been saving people from themselves for years. Sort of a +sidewalk Dorothy Dix. I don’t know why, exactly. It just makes me feel +good. I like to see somebody I like, learn to like himself. You’re a +big, clean, healthy girl, Beebo. You’re handsome as hell. You’re bright +and sensitive. I like you, and I’m pretty particular.” + +She murmured inarticulately into her hands, trying to thank him, but he +shushed her. + +“Why don’t you like yourself?” he asked. + +After a moment she stopped crying and wiped her face. She threw Jack a +quick cautious look, wondering how much of her story she could risk with +him. Perversely enough, his very kindness and patience scared her off. +She was afraid that the truth would sicken him, alienate him from her. +And at this forlorn low point in her life, she needed his friendship +more than a bed or a cigarette or even food. + +Jack caught something of the conflict going on within her. “Tell me what +you can,” he said. + +“My dad is a veterinarian,” she began in her low voice. “Everybody in +Juniper Hill loved him. Till he started—drinking too much. But that +wasn’t for a long time. In the beginning we were all very happy. Even +after my mother died, we got along. My brother Jim and I were friends +back in grade school. + +“Dad taught us about animals. There wasn’t a job he couldn’t trust me +with when it came to caring for a sick animal. And the past few years +when he’s been—well, drunk so much of the time—I’ve done a lot of the +surgery, too. I’m twice the vet my brother’ll ever be. Jim never did +like it much. He went along because he was ashamed of his squeamishness. +But whenever things got bloody or tough, he ducked out. + +“But I got along fine with Dad. The one thing I always wanted was to +live a good life for his sake. Be a credit to him. Be something +wonderful. Be—a doctor. He was so proud of that. He understood, he +helped me all he could.” She drained her glass again. “Some doctor I’ll +be now,” she said. “A witch doctor, maybe.” She filled the glass and +Jack said anxiously, “Whoa, easy there. You’re a milk drinker, +remember?” + +She ignored him. “At least I won’t be around to see Dad’s face when he +realizes I’ll never make it to medical school,” Beebo said, the corners +of her mouth turned down. “I hated to leave him, but I had to do it. +It’s one thing to stick it out in a place where they don’t like you. +It’s another to let yourself be destroyed.” + +“So you think you’ve solved your problems by coming to the big city?” +Jack asked her. + +“Not all of them!” she retorted. “I’ll have to get work, I’ll have to +find a place to live and all that. But I’ve solved the worst one, Jack.” + +“Maybe you brought some of them with you,” he said. “You didn’t run as +far away from Juniper Hill as you think. People are still people, no +matter what the town. And Beebo is still Beebo. Do you think New Yorkers +are wiser and better than the people in Juniper Hill, honey? Hell no. +They’re probably worse. The only difference is that here, you have a +chance to be anonymous. Back home everybody knew who you were.” + +Beebo threw him a sudden smile. “I don’t think there’s a single Jack +Mann in all of Juniper Hill,” she said. “It was worth the trip to meet +you.” + +“Well, I’d like to think I’m that fascinating,” he said. “But you didn’t +come to New York City to find Jack Mann, after all. You came to find +Beebo Brinker. Yourself. Or are you one of those rare lucky ones who +knows all there is to know about themselves by the time they’re +seventeen?” + +“Eighteen,” she corrected. “No, I’m not one of the lucky ones. Just one +of the rare ones.” Inexplicably, it struck both of them funny and they +laughed at each other. Beebo felt herself loose and pliable under the +influence of the liqueur. It was exhilarating, a floating release that +shrouded the pain and confusion of her flight from home and arrival in +this cold new place. She was glad for Jack’s company, for his warmth and +humor. “You must be good for me,” she told him. “Either you or the +schnapps.” + +“You’re going pretty heavy on that stuff, friend,” he warned her nodding +at the glass. “There’s more in it than peppermint, you know.” + +“But it tastes so good going down,” she said, surprised to find herself +still laughing. + +“Well, it doesn’t taste so good when it comes back up.” + +“I haven’t had that much,” she said and poured herself some more. Jack +rolled his eyes to heaven and made her laugh again. + +“You know I could take advantage of you in your condition,” he said, +thinking it might sober her up a little. But his fundamental compassion +and intelligence had put her at ease, led her to trust him. She was +actually enjoying herself a little now, trying to forget whatever it was +that drove her into this new life, and Jack hadn’t the heart to stir up +her fears again. He wondered if she had left a scandal or a tragedy +behind her in Juniper Hill. + +“I was going to be a doctor once myself,” he said. + +She looked at him with a sort of cockeyed interest. “What happened?” + +“Would have taken too long. I wanted to get that degree and get out. And +I wanted love. But you can’t make love to anybody after a long day over +a hot cadaver. You’re too pooped and the sight of human flesh gives you +goose pimples instead of pleasant shivers. Besides, I spent four years +in the Navy in the Second World War, and I’d had it with blood and +suffering.” + +Beebo drank the schnapps in her glass. “That’s as good a reason as any +for quitting, I guess,” she said. + +“You could still finish up high school and go on to college,” he said, +trying not to sound pushy. + +“No. I’ve lost it, Jack. That ambition, that will to do well. I left it +behind when I left my father. I just don’t give a double damn about +medicine, for the first time in my life.” + +“Because a bunch of small-minded provincials asked you to leave their +little high school? You make it sound like you were just squirming to be +asked.” + +“You’re saying I didn’t have the guts to fight them,” she said, speaking +without resentment. “It isn’t that, Jack. I did fight them, with all +I’ve got. I’m tired of it, that’s all. You can’t fight everybody all the +time and still have room in your life to study and think and learn.” + +“Was it that bad, Beebo?” + +“_I_ was that bad—to the people in Juniper Hill.” + +Jack shook his head in bewilderment and laughed a little. “You don’t +happen to carry the bubonic plague, do you?” he said. + +She knew how curious she had made him about herself, and she hadn’t the +courage to expose the truth to him yet. So she merely said, “That’s over +now. My life is going to be different.” + +“Different, but not necessarily better,” he said. “I wish to hell you’d +come clean with me, honey. I can’t help you this way. I don’t know what +you’re running away from.” + +“I’m not running away from, I’m running _to_,” she said. “To this city, +this chance for a new start.” + +“And a new Beebo?” he asked. “Do you think being in a new place will +make you better and braver somehow?” + +“I’m not chicken, Jack,” she said firmly. “I left for Dad’s sake as much +as my own.” + +“I didn’t say you were, honey,” he told her gently. “I don’t think a +chicken would have come so far to face so much all alone. I think you’re +a decent, intelligent girl. I think you’re a good-looking girl, too, +just for the record. That much is plain as the schnapps on your face.” + +Beebo frowned at him, self-conscious and surprised. “You’re the first +man who ever called me ‘good-looking,’” she said. “No, the second. My +father always thought....” Her voice went very soft. “You know, it kills +me to go off and—and abandon him like this.” She got up from the floor +and walked a little unsteadily to the front window. + +“Why don’t you write to him?” Jack suggested. “If he was so good to +you—if you were so close—he deserves to know where you are.” + +“That was the whole point of leaving,” she said, shaking her head. “To +keep it secret. To relieve him.” + +“Of what?” + +“Of myself. I was a burden to him. He did too much for me. He tried to +be father and mother both. He indulged me when he should have been +stern. He never could bear to punish me.” + +She stood looking out his front window in silence, crying quietly. Her +face was still, with the only movement the rhythmic swell and spill of +tears from her eyes. + +“My father,” she said, “is no angel. Much as I love him, I know _that_ +much.” Jack sensed a whole raft of sad secrets behind that brief phrase. + +He stood up, crushed his cigarette, and looked at her for a moment. She +stood with her legs apart and well-defined by her narrow cotton skirt. +Her hair was tousled and damp with sweat, and there was a shine in her +wet eyes reflected from the lamplight that intensified the blue. She had +left her schnapps glass on the floor and her empty hands hung limp +against her thighs. She lifted them now and then to brush away tears. +Her head inclined slightly, like that of a youngster who has grown too +tall too fast and doesn’t want to tower over her classmates. + +Her face, sensitive and striped with tears, was in many ways the face of +a boy. Her stance was boyish and her low voice too was like a boy’s, +balanced on the brink of maturity. And there it would stay all her life, +never to plumb the true depth of a man’s. + +She became aware of Jack’s eyes on her and turned to pick up her glass, +but bumped against a corner of a table and nearly fell. Jack reached her +in two big steps and pulled her straight again while she put both hands +to her temples. “I feel as if I’m dreaming,” she murmured. “Am I?” She +looked quizzically at him. + +“You’re not, but I am,” he said, taking her elbow and steering her +toward the bedroom. “I’m a dream walking. I’m dreaming and you’re in my +dream. When I wake up, you’ll cease to exist.” + +“That would solve everything, wouldn’t it?” she said, leaning on him +more than she realized. She tried to stop him in the center of the room +to get her liqueur, but he kept pushing till she gave up. + +“Come on, let Uncle Jack bed you down,” he said. He took one of her arms +across his shoulder, the better to balance them both, pulled her into +the bedroom, and unloaded her on his double bed. Beebo spread-eagled +herself into all four corners with a sigh, and it wasn’t till Jack had +all her clothes off but the underwear that she came to and tried to +protest. Jack removed her socks with a yank. + +“Why, you lousy man,” she said, staring at him. But when he smelled the +socks, she laughed. + +“God, what an exciting creature you are,” he grimaced, surveying her +muscular angles with all the ardor of an old hen. + +“So I’m not your type,” she said, getting to her feet. “I can still take +off my own underwear.” She tried it, lost her balance and sat down +summarily on the bed. + +Jack tossed her a nightshirt from his dresser. It was scarlet and orange +cotton flannel. “I like flashy sleepers,” he explained. + +She put it on while he washed in the bathroom. But when he returned he +found her leaning on the dresser, dizzily close to losing the schnapps. + +Jack guided her into the bathroom and got her to the washbowl before it +came up. + +“I had no idea there was so much in the bottle,” Jack said when she had +gotten the last of it out. At last she straightened up to look in the +mirror. “By God, Beebo, you were the same color as the schnapps for a +minute there.” + +He made her rinse her mouth and then dragged her back to bed, where he +washed her unconscious face and hands. He sat and gazed at her before he +turned out the light, speculating about her. Asleep, she looked younger, +adolescent: still a child, with a child’s purity; soon an adult with +adult desires. Did she know already what those desires would be? And was +that why she fled from Juniper Hill? The knowledge that her desires and +her adult self would shock the town, shock her father, shock even +herself? + +Jack thought so. He thought she knew what it was that troubled her so +deeply, even though she might not know the name for it. It wasn’t just +being “different” that she hated. It was the kind of differentness. Jack +wanted to comfort her, to explain that she wasn’t alone in the world, +that other people were different in the same way she was. But he +couldn’t speak of it to her until she admitted it first to him. + +He smoothed the hair off her forehead, admiring her features and her +flawless skin without the least taint of physicality. He felt sorry for +her, and scoffed at himself for wishing she were the boy she so +resembled at that moment. Then he lay down beside her and went to sleep. + + * * * * * + +Beebo slept for fourteen hours. She wakened with a glaring square of +sunshine astride her face. When she rolled over to escape it, she felt a +new sensation: the beginning beat of the long rhythm of a hangover—her +first. + +The thought of the peppermint liqueur nauseated her for a few moments. +She looked around the room to forget it and clear her head, and found a +note pinned to the pillow next to hers. It gave her a start to realize +Jack had spent the night in bed with her. And then it made her laugh and +the laugh sent aching echoes through her head. + +The note said, “I’m at work. Home around 5:30. Plenty of feed in refrig. +You don’t want it but you NEED it. White pills in medicine chest for +head. Take two and LIVE. You’re a devil in bed. Jack.” + +She smiled, and lifted herself with gingerly care from the bed. It was +two-thirty in the afternoon. + + * * * * * + +When Jack came home with a brown bag full of groceries, she was smoking +quietly and reading the paper in his kitchen. + +“How are you?” he said, smiling. + +“Fine.” + +“I don’t believe it.” + +“Well, I’m clean, and you can believe _that_. I took a bath.” + +“On you it looks good,” he said, putting food away. + +Beebo shook her head a little. “I was just thinking ... you’re about the +only friend I have, Jack. I’ve been kicking myself all day for not +thanking you. I mean, you listened to me for hours. You’ve been damn +nice about my problems.” + +“That’s my style,” he said, but he was flattered. “Besides, us +frustrated doctors have to stick together. It’s nice to come home to a +welcoming committee that thinks I’m the greatest guy in the world.” + +“You must have a lot of friends down here,” she said, curious about him. +Beebo had done all the talking since they met. But who was Jack Mann, +the guy who did all the listening? Just a goodhearted young man in a +strange town who gave her a drink and a bed, and was about to give her +some dinner. + +“Oh, plenty of friends,” he said, lighting the oven. + +“You made me feel safe and—and _human_ last night, Jack. If that doesn’t +sound too silly.” + +“Did you think you weren’t?” He put the ready-cooked food in the stove +to warm. + +“I’m grateful. I wanted you to know.” + +“Marry me and prove it,” he said. + +She looked at him with her mouth open, astonished. “You’re kidding!” she +said. + +“Nope. I always wanted a dozen kids.” + +Beebo began to laugh. “I’d make a lousy mother, I’m afraid,” she said. + +“You’d make a dandy mother, honey. Nice girls always like kids.” + +“Is that why you want to get married? Just to have kids?” + +“When I was in the Navy, I was always the sucker who put on the whiskers +and passed out the popsicles on Christmas Day in the Islands. Hot? Mamma +mia! I nearly passed out myself. Melted almost as fast as the goo I was +giving away. But I loved those kids.” + +“Then why aren’t you married? Why don’t you have some kids of your own?” +she prodded. It seemed peculiar to her that so affable a man, especially +one who liked children, should be single. + +“Beebo, my ravishing love, why don’t _you_ get married and have some +kids?” he countered, disconcerting her. + +“A woman has to do the having,” she said. “All a man has to do is get +her pregnant.” + +“_All_,” Jack repeated, rolling his eyes. + +“Besides, I don’t want to get married,” she added, her eyes veiled and +troubled. + +“Hell, everybody gets married,” Jack said, watching her closely. Maybe +she would open up a bit now and talk about what really mattered. + +“Everybody but _you_,” she said. + +He hunched his shoulders and grinned. “Touché,” he said. Then he opened +the oven door to squint at the bubbling ravioli, and drew it out with a +potholder, spooning it onto their plates. + +They sat down at the table and Jack told her, “This is the greatest +Italian food you’ll ever eat. Pasquini on Thompson Street makes it up.” +He glanced up and found Beebo studying him. “What’s the matter? Don’t +like pasta?” + +“Jack, have you ever been in love?” she said. + +Jack smiled and swallowed a forkful of food before he answered. She was +asking him, as circuitously as possible, to tell her about life. She +didn’t want him to guess it, but that was what she wanted. + +“I fall in love twice a year,” he said. “Once in the fall and once in +the spring. In the fall the kids come back to school, a few blocks from +here. There are plenty of newcomers waiting to be loved the wrong way in +September. They call me Wrong Way Mann.” He glanced up at her, but +instead of taking the hint, she was puzzled by it. + +“I didn’t know there was a wrong way,” she said earnestly. + +“In love, as in everything else,” he said. “I just—well, let’s say I +have a talent for goofing things up.” He wondered if he ought to be +frank with her about himself. It might relieve her, might make it +possible for her to talk about herself then. But, looking at her face +again, he decided against it. The whole subject scared her still. She +wanted to learn and yet she feared that what she learned might be ugly, +or more frightening than her ignorance. + +He would have to go slowly with her, teach her gently what she was, and +teach her not to hate the word for it: Lesbian. Such a soft word, +mellifluous on the tongue; such a stab in the heart to someone very +young, unsure and afraid. + +“And in the spring?” she was asking. “You fall in love then, too?” + +“That’s just the weather, I guess. I fall in love with everybody in the +spring. The butcher, the baker, the candlestickmaker.” He smiled at her +face. She was amused and startled by the male catalog, and afraid to let +her amusement show. Jack took her off the hook. “Good, hm?” He nodded at +the food. + +Beebo took a bite without answering. “What’s it like to live down here? +I mean—” She cleared her throat. “In the Village?” + +“Just one mad passionate fling after another,” he said. “Try the +cheese.” He passed it to her. + +“With the butcher and the baker?” she said humorously and made him +laugh. + +At last he said, “Well honey, it’s like everyplace else. You eat three +squares a day, you sleep eight hours a night, you work and earn money +and obey the laws ... well, _most_ of the laws. The only difference +between here and Juniper Hill is, we stay open all night.” + +She laughed. And suddenly she said, “You know, this _is_ good,” and +began to eat with an appetite. + +“So’s the salad.” He pushed the bowl toward her. “Now you tell me +something, Little Girl Lost,” he said. “Were _you_ ever in love?” + +She looked down at her plate, uncomfortably self-conscious. + +“Oh, come on,” he teased. “I’m not going to blackmail you.” + +“Not real love,” she said. “Puppy love, I guess.” + +“That kind can hurt as much as the other,” Jack said, and Beebo was +grateful for his perception. “But it ought to be fun now and then, too.” + +“Maybe it ought to be, but it never was,” she said. “I guess I’m like +you, Jack. I goof everything up.” + +He pointed his fork at her plate. “You’ve stopped eating again,” he +said. “I want you to taste your future employer’s cooking.” + +“My what?” she exclaimed. + +“Pasquini needs a delivery boy. Can you drive?” + +“I can drive, but can I be a boy?” she said with such a rueful face that +he laughed aloud. + +“You can wear slacks,” he said. “That’s the best I could do. The rest is +up to you.” + +His laughter embarrassed her, as if perhaps she had gone too far with +her remark, and she said as seriously as possible, “I learned to drive +on a truck with six forward gears.” + +“This is a panel truck.” + +“Duck soup. God, I hope he’ll take me, Jack. I have exactly ten bucks +between me and the poorhouse. I didn’t know what I was going to do with +myself.” + +“Well, you haven’t got the job yet, honey. But I told Pasquini you had +lots of experience and you’d do him the favor of dropping by in the +morning.” + +“Some favor!” she grinned. “Me, who couldn’t find Times Square if my +life depended on it, making deliveries in this tangled-up part of town.” + +“You’ll catch on.” + +“What are the Pasquinis like?” she said. + +“You’ll like Marie. She’s Pete’s wife. Does all the cooking. It’s her +business, really. It was just a spaghetti joint when Pete’s dad ran it. +After he died Pete took over and damn near went bankrupt. Then he +married Marie. She cooks _and_ keeps the books—like nobody can. She used +to be a pretty girl, too, till she had too many kids and too much +pizza.” + +“What about Pete?” + +“I don’t know what to tell you about that guy. I’ve known him slightly +for the past ten years, but no one knows him very well. As far as +Marie’s concerned, he’s her number one delivery boy. As a husband and a +father, he’s her idea of a bust.” + +“You mean he cheats?” + +“He’s out every night of the week with weird girls on his arm. As if he +were proud of it. He picks out the oddballs—you know, the ones who +haven’t cut their hair since they were four years old, and wear +dead-white make-up and cotton lisle stockings.” + +“Lousy taste,” Beebo said, but when Jack smiled she looked away. She +wasn’t going to give him the chance to ask what her own taste might be. + +Jack paused, sensing her reticence, and then he went on, “Pete used to +run a gang when he was in his teens. He was our local color.” + +“You mean he’s a juvenile delinquent?” Beebo asked naively. “Are you +sending me to work for a crook?” + +“He’s an _ex_-j.d.,” Jack chuckled. “He went on to better things the day +they broke his zip gun.” + +“My God! Is he a criminal, Jack?” + +“No, honey, don’t panic. He’s just a kook. He’s more of a loner now. It +comes naturally to him to skulk around. But as far as I can tell, he +only skulks after dark. And after Beat broads. He hasn’t been arrested +since he was nineteen, and that’s been ten years.” + +“He sounds like the ideal employer,” Beebo cracked. + +“You could do worse; you with ten bucks in your pocket,” Jack reminded +her. “Besides, he’s lived here all his life. He may be odd but you get +used to him.” + +“Just how ‘odd’ is he?” + +“Honey, you’ve _got_ to be a little odd down here, or you lose your +membership card,” he said. “Besides, I’m not asking you to cut your +veins and mingle blood with him. Just pass out the pizzas and take his +money once a week.” + +Beebo shook her head and laughed. “Well, if you say so,” she said. “I +guess I’m safe as long as I don’t wear cotton lisle stockings.” + + * * * * * + +She got the job. Pete Pasquini had more deliveries than he could handle +alone. Marie’s sauces, salads, preserves, and pastas were making a name +and making a pile. The orders were going up so fast that it would take a +second driver to deliver them all. + +Beebo, dressed in a clean white shirt, sweater, and tan slacks, faced +Pete at eight in the morning. She was somewhat intimidated by the looks +of him and by Jack’s thumb sketch of the night before. He was a +dour-faced young Italian-American with blue jowls and a down-turned +mouth. If he ever smiled—Beebo doubted it—he would have been almost +handsome, for his teeth were straight and white, and he had a peculiarly +sensual mouth beneath his plum-dark eyes. He looked mean and sexy—a +combination that instantly threw Beebo high on her guard. + +“You’re Beebo?” he said, looking up at her with an order pad and pencil +poised in his hands. + +“Yes,” she said. “Jack Mann sent me. I—he—said you needed a driver.” + +He smirked a little. Probably his smile for the day, she thought. +“You’re as tall as I am,” he observed, as if pleased about it; pleased +at least to make her self-conscious about it. + +“Would you like to see me drive? I’m a good driver,” she said +resentfully. + +“How come you’re so tall, Beebo? Girls ain’t supposed to be so tall.” He +put the paper and pencil down and turned to look her over, leaning +jauntily on a linoleum-covered counter as he did so. + +Beebo folded her arms over her chest in a gesture that told him to slow +down, back off; a very unfeminine gesture that ordinarily offended a +man’s ideals. “I can drive. You want a driver,” she said curtly. “Let’s +talk business.” She had learned long ago to stand her ground when +someone taunted her. Otherwise the taunting grew intolerable. + +To her amazement, she made Pete Pasquini laugh. It was not a +reassuring sound. “You’re a feisty one, ain’t you?” he grinned. +“You—are—a—_feisty_—one.” He separated each word with slow relish, +enjoying her discomfiture. For though she stood tall and bold in front +of him, her hot face betrayed her embarrassment. She gave him a +withering look and then turned and strode toward the door till she heard +his voice behind her, accompanied by his footsteps. + +“No offense, Beebo,” he said. “I’m gonna be your boss. I wanta be your +friend, too. I don’t want people workin’ for me don’t like me. Shake +hands?” + +She turned around slowly, unconvinced. Maybe he really thought he was +ingratiating himself with her. But she didn’t like his method much. It +was the thought of her nearly empty wallet that finally prompted her to +offer him her hand. He took it with a rather light loose grasp, +surprising Beebo who was used to the hearty grip of the farmers in her +home county. But when he lifted her hand up and said, “Hey, that’s big, +too!” she snatched it away as if he had burned her. + +“Okay, okay, all you got to do is drive, you don’t have to shake hands +with me all day,” he said, amused by her reaction. “I can see it ain’t +your favorite game.” + +It seemed peculiar enough to Beebo that they shake hands at all. They +were not officially employer and employee yet, and even if they were, +they were still man and girl. It made her feel creepy. She assumed that +Pete had to get his wife’s approval before he could hire her. Marie was +supposed to run the business. + +“Well, come on, I’ll show you where things is,” Pete said. + +“You mean it’s settled?” She hesitated. “I’m hired?” + +“Why not?” He turned back to look at her. + +“Well, I thought your wife? I mean—?” She stopped, not wishing to anger +him. His face had turned very dark. + +“My wife _what_?” he said. “You never mind my wife. If I say you’re +hired, you’re hired. I don’t want no back talk about the wife. You dig?” + +She nodded, startled by the force of his spite. She made a mental note +not to press that sore spot again. He apparently needed and wanted the +money Marie’s succulent concoctions brought in, but he hated +surrendering control of the shop to her. Yet it was the price of their +success. She knew what she was doing, in the kitchen and in the +accounts, and he was afraid to interfere. + +Beebo stood frowning at the sawdust floor. + +“What’s the matter, kid? Something bugging you?” Pete asked. + +She glanced up at him. It was strange that he should hire her on the +spot without the slightest idea if she could drive worth a damn. “Do you +want me to start deliveries this morning?” she said. + +“I’ll take you around, show you the route,” he said. “First we got to +make up the orders.” + +He walked toward the back of the store with Beebo behind him. “Mr. +Pasquini, there’s just one thing,” she said. + +“It’s Pete. Yeah, what thing?” He handed her a large cardboard carton to +pack a grocery order in. + +“How much will it pay?” Beebo asked, standing there with the box, +unwilling to start working till she knew what she was worth. + +“Fifty a week to start,” he said, without looking up. He lifted some +bottled olive oil down from a nearby shelf. “Things work out good, I’ll +raise you. You want it, don’t you?” He looked at her then. + +There was a barely noticeable pause before she answered, “I want it.” +But she spoke with a sliver of misgiving stuck in the back of her mind. + +Pete accompanied her on the delivery route that morning and again in the +afternoon, watching her handle the truck, showing her where the +customers lived. She had spent the night before with Jack studying a map +of New York City and Greenwich Village, but what had seemed fairly +logical on paper bogged down in colorful confusion when she took to the +streets. + +Pete swung an arm up on the seat behind her, his knees jutting toward +her legs, and now and then when she missed a direction he would grab the +wheel and start the turn for her. She disliked his closeness extremely, +and throughout the day she was aware of his eyes on her face and body. +It almost made her feel as if she had a figure, for the first time in +her life, and the idea shocked her. + +Beebo had broad shoulders and hardly a hint of a bosom. No man had ever +looked at her appreciatively before, not even Jack Mann, who obviously +liked her and enjoyed her company. She was not sure whether Pete admired +her or was merely interested because she was so different from other +girls. + +He can’t possibly like me, she thought. Not the way men like women. The +notion was so preposterous that it made her smile and reassured her. +Till Pete noticed the smile and said, “What’s so funny, kid?” He looked +too eager to know and she brushed it off. He let it go, but watched her +more attentively, making her squirm a little. + +It was a relief to climb down from the truck that afternoon—and a blow +to feel the heavy clap of a masculine hand on her shoulder. “You did +real good, Beebo,” Pete said, and the hand lay there until she spun away +from him and walked inside to meet his wife. + +Marie Pasquini was twenty-six, the overweight and overworked mother of +five little Pasquinis. She did most of the cooking while Pete’s mother +tended her kids, and the two women fell into several pan-rattling +arguments per day. Beebo could hear the soprano squeals of young +children upstairs in the apartment above the store, and a periodic +disciplinary squawk from Grandma Pasquini. + +Marie greeted Beebo with a big smile, revealing the shadow of the pretty +face concealed beneath the fat. + +“Your accent is French, isn’t it?” Beebo said. + +“You got it,” Marie beamed. “Smart girl.” She moved about the kitchen +while they got acquainted, eating, working, and talking incessantly. +Pete slouched against the kitchen door chewing a wooden matchstick and +watching Beebo. + +Marie worked hard and she ate hard and she was going all to hips. But +she was friendly and cheerful, and Beebo liked her. + +“That’s a good boy, that Jack,” Marie said. “He comes in here two, three +times a week, buys my food. Tells his friends, ‘Eat Pasquini’s stuff,’ +and by God, they eat.” + +“He gave me some last night,” Beebo said. “It’s good.” + +“You bet.” Marie stirred her sauce and glanced at Beebo. “You live with +him now?” + +“Well—temporarily,” Beebo said, taken aback both by the question and by +Pete’s silent laughter. + +“About time he got a girl,” Marie said briskly. “Even one in pants.” And +she glanced humorously at Beebo’s tan chinos. + +Beebo colored up. “Well, it’s not quite like that,” she protested. + +“Oh, don’t tell me,” Marie said, holding up two spattered hands. “A boy +and a girl ... well...!” and she gave a Gallic chuckle. + +“What you want to do, embarrass the kid?” Pete demanded suddenly with +mock anger. “She don’t sleep with no lousy fag.” + +“Shut that big mouth, Pete,” Marie said sharply, without bothering to +look at him. “She don’t want to hear dirty talk, neither.” + +Beebo was burning to ask what a fag was, but she didn’t dare. She could +hear in her imagination the cackling it would provoke from Pete. + +Marie stirred in silence for a moment. “I never saw a boy put up with so +much,” she said finally. “He got people in and out, in and out, every +damn day, eating him out of house and home.” Beebo squirmed guiltily. +“His only trouble, he got too big a heart. Don’t never take advantage of +him like the others, Beebo.” + +“What others?” + +“You don’t know?” Marie looked at her, puzzled. + +“Well, I’ve only known Jack a little while. I mean—” + +“Oh.” Marie nodded sagely. “Well, he got too many fair-weather friends. +Know they can have whatever he got they want. So they take. And he lets +them. Can’t stand to see people go without. He’s a good boy. Too good.” + +“He ain’t all _that_ good, Marie,” Pete drawled, grinning at Beebo. “You +just like him because he comes in here and gives you that swishy talk +about what a good-looking dame you are. All that proves is, he got bad +eyes. Now, Beebo here might have trouble with him, you never know. If I +was her, I wouldn’t climb in his bed.” + +“Pete, you got a mind even dirtier than your mouth,” Marie said. “Get +out of my kitchen, I don’t want the food dirtied up too. Out, _salaud_!” + +Beebo was amused by her accent, comically mismated with the +ungrammatical English she had learned from Pete. + +Marie threw a potlid at her husband. “See?” Pete shrugged at Beebo, +catching the lid. “I try to say a few words and what do I get? Pots and +pans. And she wonders why I go out at night.” + +“Out!” Marie stamped her foot and he left them, disappearing bizarrely +like a wraith into the gloom of the darkened store. After nearly a full +minute had elapsed Beebo became aware with a silent start that the +fingers of his left hand were curled around the door frame: five +orphaned earthworms searching for the dirt. + +Beebo stared at them with something very near loathing. She wondered if +she was supposed to see them, and if he thought they would please her +for some obscure reason. Or was he hiding, thinking the fingers out of +sight? No, he knew damn well she could see them, and would. They were +his gesture of invitation, unheard and unseen by his wife. + +Beebo began to sweat with alarm and revulsion. She chatted determinedly +with Marie for almost fifteen minutes before those five pale fingers +retreated from their post. Maybe it was supposed to be a gag, Beebo told +herself. She didn’t want to mention it to Marie. It would make her look +a fool, perhaps even hysterical if the whole thing was only a joke. + +That’s what it is, Beebo told herself firmly. That’s what it has to be. +She stood up and thanked Marie, accepting a bag of hot fresh-cooked +chicken to take home for dinner, and walked through the front of the +shop. She held herself together tightly, and if she had seen the least +movement, heard the least whisper, she would have lashed out in abrupt +terror. She had the uncanny feeling that Pete was somewhere waiting with +those loathsome hands. But she couldn’t see him, she didn’t hear him, +and she reached the door and the outside with a gasp of relief. + +The relief was so deep that it turned into a laugh, soothing her and +making her a little ashamed of herself. Away from Pete she could scold +herself for her aversion to him. Maybe it wasn’t fair. He was just a +guy, not a ghost, not a snake. He was spooky, but Marie seemed as +healthy and normal as her good foods. + +Beebo was disturbed by the strangeness of Pete’s manner, but she could +never believe that any man would truly desire her, no matter how creepy +he was. Not even a nut like Pete Pasquini. For his own reasons he was +making a study of her, but beyond that he would never go. She began to +feel safe and comfortable again as she rounded the corner to Jack’s +street. She felt unassailable in the fortress of her flat-chested, +muscular young body. It was not the stuff that male dreams are made of. + + * * * * * + +As Jack explained to her later, it was himself and others like him who +had talked the Pasquinis’ shop into a financial success. Rather +abruptly, Pete and Marie found themselves making money, and Pete, after +an adolescence full of alley wars and hock-shop heists, found himself +taking a belated interest in the dough: not the flour kind, the folding +kind. + +He had married Marie overseas when he was in the service and brought her +back to his inheritance: the foundering grocery shop his father had left +him. Undismayed, Marie set out to bear his kids and learn his mother’s +recipes. By a combination of luck, sense, and skill, Marie pulled them +out of the dumps. + +It was still nominally Pete’s business, yet he did little more than run +his wife’s errands and pocket all the money Marie would let him have. He +always demanded more, but he respected her French thrift. The money she +refused to give him went back into the business and made it possible for +him to insist on more gradually as time went on. + +This arrangement galled Pete but he preferred it to poverty. Still, he +had to get even with her. So he did it by openly sniffing up skirts +around Greenwich Village. He would even flaunt a girl at Marie now and +then and she, stung, would call him half a man who played with other +girls because he didn’t have what it took to keep one good woman +satisfied. Or else she ignored him entirely, which enraged him. + +It was not a quiet cozy family. Pete did not know or like his children +very well. He got on famously with his mother, but his mother and his +wife were lifelong enemies. Beebo began to learn about them as she +worked near them in the shop. + +Pete watched Beebo move around during the first week, making her feel +clumsy as a young colt; getting in her way deliberately (she was sure) +to make her dodge around him; turning up in out-of-the-way corners where +she didn’t expect to see him. Her antipathy to him was lively, but +fortunately she didn’t see much of him. Filling orders took less time +than delivering them and she was out of the shop most of the day. In the +truck she was disposed to be pleased with her job. She liked to drive. +She liked to talk to people, and the customers were friendly. She even +liked the chore of carrying the heavy cartons up and down all day. It +pleased her to feel strong, equal to the task. + +A week ago all her hopes had been crashing around her. She had retreated +in disgrace from a cruel predicament. Then she found Jack Mann, a +friend; a job, and some self-respect, one right after the other. She was +grateful, full of the resilient optimism of youth. + + * * * * * + +Without any specific words on the subject, Beebo and Jack came to an +understanding that she would live with him for a while, till she could +afford a place for herself. “You’ll be better off with a roommate,” Jack +advised her casually. “I’ll have to introduce you to some of my +upper-class female friends.” + +“Sure,” she grinned. “‘Pamela, this is my lower-class female friend, +Beebo Brinker.’ And she’ll say, ‘Dahling, you’re absolutely crashing, +but I can’t possibly share my apartment with those pants.’” She made +Jack laugh at her. “Besides, Jackson,” Beebo added rather shyly, “I’ve +already got a roommate. He only has one fault—he won’t let me pay my +half of the rent.” + +“I like to pay bills,” Jack said. “Gives me a sense of power.” + +“Marie says you’ve got too big a heart,” Beebo told him. “And she’s +right.” + +“Marie’s a good girl,” he said. “How are you getting along with Peter +the Wolf?” + +“Fine, as long as he’s out of my sight.” + +Jack grinned. “You can handle him, honey. Just keep a can of corn beef +in your pocket. If he tries to lift your wallet, clobber him.” + +“It’s not my wallet I’m worried about,” she said. “There’s nothing in +it, anyway. It’s just that he’s always under my feet when he should be +on the other side of the store.” + +“I suspect it’s for Marie’s benefit,” Jack said. “Every female who comes +into the store gets the once-over from Pete—provided Marie is looking. +And most of the time, she is. She likes to keep score, I guess.” + +“There was a girl today,” Beebo said. “She came in the shop about noon, +when Marie was fixing lunch. I waited on her.” Her face became intent, +as she summoned the girl’s image in her mind’s eye. + +“What about her?” Jack said curiously. + +But Beebo, coming to herself at the sound of his voice, said, “Oh, +nothing. But she was more Pete’s type ... _any_ man’s type.” + +“What was she like?” + +“She had long black hair,” Beebo said, as if it were very special. +“People don’t let their hair grow like that any more. It was lovely. She +let it hang free down her back. And her face....” She was gone again, +seeing it in her imagination. + +“She must have been a looker,” Jack said, frustrated by the reticence +between himself and Beebo. He knew what hundreds of questions she needed +to ask, what a wealth of help she would be wanting soon. But she didn’t +dare start asking and because she didn’t, Jack dared not force the +answers on her yet. + +“She was absolutely gorgeous,” Beebo said with a certain wonderment and +innocence that touched him. “I never saw such a girl in my life before.” +There was a small silence. Beebo’s words hung in the air like a neon +sign and reduced her abruptly to confusion. To cover up, she said, “She +wasn’t a very nice girl, though. Not by your standards.” + +“My standards?” + +“She’s not afraid of boys,” Beebo grinned. “At least, she wasn’t afraid +of Pete. But I think they knew each other from somewhere. He called her +... Mona.” She spoke the name self-consciously. “It sounds +old-fashioned, doesn’t it?” + +“I wonder if it’s Mona Petry,” Jack said. “She has black hair, but I +didn’t think it was that long. Still, I haven’t seen her for a while.” + +“Who’s Mona Petry?” Beebo asked, her eyes intent on Jack. + +“Old flame of Pete’s,” Jack said. “She used to come into the store a lot +three or four years ago. She and Pete got quite a charge out of putting +poor Marie on. Mona isn’t the charitable type. She likes to land a man +who belongs to some other woman—more to spite the other woman than +because she wants the man. As soon as she won Pete, she dumped him like +a sack of meal. For some reason, Pete never fought back. Makes me think +she really meant something to him. God knows, none of the other broads +do.” + +“Is she one of those man-hungry girls that can’t get enough?” Beebo +said. “I forget what they’re called, but there’s a name for it.” + +“The name is nymphomaniac,” Jack said. “But Mona doesn’t love men. She +just plays around with them. They’re good ego builders.” He lighted a +cigarette, seeing without seeming to, the concentration on Beebo’s face. +The question was there on her tongue, in her mind, but she couldn’t get +it out. _If Mona doesn’t love men_, she was thinking ... _then who_? + +“There’s another word for Mona,” Jack said. Beebo tensed up. “Bitch.” He +threw her a grin and made her laugh with nervous relief. “Actually, Mona +loves girls,” Jack went on, speaking in a smooth casual flow, a +conversational tone that bespoke no shock, no disapproval, nothing but +ordinary interest. He deliberately looked at the front page of the +evening paper as he spoke. + +Beebo answered huskily, “What do you mean? What girls?” + +“Lesbians,” he said. “Want to freshen this up for me, pal?” He handed +her his highball glass. She took it with astonishment still plain on her +face. When she returned from the kitchen with the new drink, she asked +him, “Aren’t they sort of—_immoral_? I heard the word once before. I +thought you weren’t supposed to say it.” + +At that, Jack looked up. “Lesbian? You mean you thought it was a dirty +word?” he exclaimed, and laughed in spite of himself. Beebo was +momentarily offended until he cleared his throat and said, “Forgive me, +honey, but that’s the bloodiest nonsense I’ve heard in a long time. +Whoever in the hell told you it was dirty?” + +“Doesn’t it mean loose women?” Beebo asked. + +He shook his head. “It means _gay_ women,” he said. “It means homosexual +women. It means women, Beebo, who love other women. The way heterosexual +women love men.” + +His words put a focus on Beebo’s fascination. She stared at him from the +sofa with her lips parted and her eyes fixed steadily on his. “You said +Mona was a bitch,” she said finally, softly. “And then you said she was +a Lesbian. Doesn’t that make her cheap? Q.E.D.?” + +“Some of the staunchest Puritan ladies I know are double-dyed bitches,” +Jack said briskly. “And just because Mona is a bad apple doesn’t mean +all the gay girls in the world are full of worms. Mona would be bitchy +anyway, gay _or_ straight.” + +“What’s ‘straight’?” + +“Heterosexual,” Jack said. + +“Where did you learn all those words?” Beebo said, bewildered. + +“I’m a native. I speak the lingo,” he said, but instead of catching his +implication, she thought he meant only that he lived in Greenwich +Village so long he had picked it up, like everyone else. + +“Does it ever happen that a nice girl is a Lesbian?” she asked him +shyly. + +“All the time,” he said, opening up the paper and gazing through the +ball scores. + +“Did you ever meet any?” + +“I’ve met most of them,” he chuckled. “They’re just as friendly and +pleasant as other girls. Why not?” + +“But can’t you tell by looking at them that they’re—” She rubbed a hand +over her mouth as if to warn herself not to speak the word, and then +said it anyway: “—Lesbian?” + +“You mean, do they all wear army boots and Levis?” Jack said with a +smile. “Does Mona Petry look like a buck private?” + +Beebo shook her head. “That’s why it’s so hard to believe she’s what you +say she is.” + +“Gay? Why hell, she’s slept with more girls than she has men. And let me +tell you, that’s damn near enough girls to elect a lady president.” + +Beebo laughed with him, and yet she felt a strange obsession with the +whole idea. She half resented Jack’s merriment on the subject, although +she was relieved that he displayed no contempt for Lesbians as a group. +Only for Mona Petry. She was surprised to find herself wanting to defend +Mona, whom she knew so little. And yet she trusted Jack’s judgment. +Still, what a pity to think a girl that pretty was that hard. + +Jack sipped his drink and picked up his cigarette, still with his eyes +on the paper. “There are some nice little gay bars around the +neighborhood,” he said. “We’ll have to take some of them in. Maybe this +weekend, hm?” He didn’t look at her. His cigarette waggled between his +lips as he talked. + +“Is it all right to go there?” Beebo asked. “Don’t the police make raids +on those places?” + +“Now and then!” he conceded. “Of course, if you’d rather not....” + +“Oh, I’d like to go,” she said, so quickly that he smiled into the +newsprint. “But aren’t they just for men—the gay bars?” + +“Men, girls, and everything in between,” he assured her. + +“Do you ever go there, Jack?” + +Again he was tempted to be honest with her, and still again he +restrained himself. “I go when the mood is on me,” he said. Beebo became +silent at once, as if she suspected she was trying to learn too much too +fast. But she spent the remaining weekdays waiting impatiently for a +tour of the bars with Jack. + + * * * * * + +Jack took her to three or four of his favorite places, and to one +strictly Lesbian bar where they admitted only the faces they recognized, +through a window in the door. Beebo followed him around quietly, +watching, listening, almost breathing in the atmosphere. She said +little, and most of what she did say was interrogatory. + +Jack answered her calmly while he sipped one beer after another. He +would order one for her and let her work at it, but he usually ended up +finishing it himself. In every bar he was kept busy greeting people, +trading jokes, laughing. Beebo trailed along in his wake, smiling and +shaking hands with the strangers who were Jack’s friends, and promptly +forgetting their names. + +But not their faces. Toward the end of the evening she began to feel +that she had seen more faces in one night than she had seen in a +lifetime in Juniper Hill. And these faces seemed different to her: rare +and beautiful, sharers of a special knowledge. They had bright eyes and +young smiles, no matter how old they were. + +“They make a big thing of keeping young down here,” Jack told her. “The +men are worse than the girls. Nobody loves an old queen.” + +It was almost one in the morning when they left the last co-ed bar and +Jack asked if she was game for one more. “This one is just for +Lesbians,” he said. + +She nodded, and a few minutes later they were being admitted to a +basement bar saturated with pink light, paneled with mirrors, and filled +with girls. More girls, more sizes, types, and ages, than Beebo had ever +seen collected together in one place. The place was called the Colophon +and it was decorated with the emblems of various famous publishing +houses. + +Jack fought his way through the crush at the bar, absorbing a lot of +pointed merriment directed at his masculinity. + +“Sour grapes,” he cried good-naturedly and inspired a chorus of laughter +and catcalls. Beebo, pushing in behind him, became aware suddenly that +she was the object of mass curiosity. She could look over the heads of +most of the girls and her height made her visible from all directions. + +Abashed, she closed in on Jack, who was hollering an order to the +bartender. “Maybe we ought to go. I—I mean—” She didn’t know how to +explain herself to him. He was looking at her with a startled frown. +“They don’t seem to like having a man in here,” she said lamely. + +Jack began to laugh. “You want me to go, honey? Okay. Just give me two +bits to see a movie.” + +She gasped. “That’s not what I meant!” she objected. “I don’t want to be +in here alone!” + +“Why not?” He reached between two girls at the bar to grab his beer. +“You’ll make out. I might cramp your style.” + +“Jack, damn it, if you go, _I_ go.” + +“Okay, pal, I won’t ditch you,” he said, glimpsing her anxious face. +“Relax. We’ll have one more and then cut out.” + +She had had quite a bit of beer already, even with Jack finishing them +for her. But she couldn’t stand there with all those eyes on her and do +nothing. Better to drink a beer than gape back at the gapers. She poured +some into her glass and drank it. And then drained the glass and poured +some more. + +Jack took her elbow. “I see some friends over there,” he said, guiding +her toward a table near the back. There were introductions all around, +but to Beebo, things seemed different. The other bars had been all male +or mixed. In this one, Jack Mann and the two bartenders, and a small +scattering of “Johns,” were the only men in a big room solidly packed +with women. It excited Beebo intensely—all that femininity. She was +silent, studying the girls at the table while Jack talked with them. +When she shook hands with them, a new feeling gripped her. For the first +time in her life she was proud of her size, proud of her strength, even +proud of her oddly boyish face. She could see interest, even admiration +on the faces of many of the girls. She was not used to that kind of +reaction in people, and it exhilarated her. But she didn’t talk much, +only answering direct questions when she had to; smiling at them when +they smiled at her; looking away in confusion when one or another tried +to stare her down. + +They had been there half an hour when somebody came over from another +table and asked her to dance. Beebo turned around, her stomach in a +knot. “Are they dancing?” she asked. + +“Sure,” said the girl. “By the jukebox.” + +Beebo had heard music without looking to see where it came from. She got +up from the table and went to the back room, realizing as she stood up +how much beer she had drunk. At the back of the crowd surrounding the +dance floor, there was room to stand and watch. + +The music was rhythmic and popular. The floor was jammed with a mass of +couples ... a mass of girls, dancing, arms locked around each other, +bodies pressed close and warm. Their cheeks were touching. Quick light +kisses were exchanged. And they were all girls, every one of them: young +and lovely and infatuated with each other. They touched one another with +gentle caresses, they kissed, they smiled and laughed and whispered +while they turned and moved together. + +There was no shame, no shock, no self-consciousness about it at all. +They were enjoying themselves. They were having fun in the most natural +way imaginable. They were all in love, or so it seemed. They were—what +did Jack call it?—gay. + +Beebo watched them for less than a minute, all told; but a minute that +was transfixed like a living picture in her mind for the rest of her +life. She was startled by it, afraid of it. And yet so passionately +moved that she caught her breath and held it till her heart began to +pound in protest. Her fists closed hard with the nails biting into her +palms and she was obsessed momentarily by the desire to grab the girl +nearest her and kiss her. + +At that point she murmured, “Oh, God!” and turned to flee. She felt the +way she had in childhood dreams when she was being chased by some vague +terrible menace, and she had to move slowly and tortuously, with great +effort, as through a wall of water, while the monster gained on her from +behind. + +She caught Jack’s shoulders in her big hands and squeezed them hard. +“Let’s go, let’s go,” she said urgently. + +He looked at her as if she had lost her senses. “I just ordered another +round,” he said. + +“Jack, please!” She pulled him to his feet. + +“Jesus, can’t you wait a little while, honey?” he said, and triggered an +outburst of merriment at the table. But she meant it, and he was not too +high to see her panic. He picked his jacket off the back of his chair, +apologizing to his friends. “When she wants it, she wants it now,” he +grinned, shrugging. + +“Who are you kidding?” they laughed. + +Beebo was already pushing her way to the exit and Jack had a battle to +catch her. He found her waiting for him outside by the door. + +“Hey,” he said, and put a friendly hand on her shoulder as they started +to walk toward his apartment. “What happened?” + +“I don’t want to go back there, Jack,” she blurted. + +“What’s the matter with it? Too much fun?” + +“It was awful,” she said, not even knowing why she said it. + +“You liked the other places.” + +She wouldn’t answer, only striding along so fast in her haste to leave +the Colophon behind that Jack had to run to keep up. + +“Was it the dancing?” he said. + +She whirled to answer him, her face flushed with emotion. “I suppose +you’ve seen it so many times you think nothing of it,” she cried. “Well, +it’s—it’s _wrong_!” + +“Who the hell do you think you are to call it wrong?” Jack demanded. +“Those are damn nice girls. If they want to dance with each other, let +them dance. You don’t have to watch.” + +Beebo listened, her anger fading, to be replaced by a fearful desire. + +“Did it make you feel ... that way, Beebo?” he said gently. + +“It made me feel....” She turned away, unable to face him. “Funny +inside. As if it was wrong. Or too right. I don’t know.” + +“It’s not wrong, pal,” he said, speaking to her back. “You’ve been +brought up to think so. Most of us have. But who are they hurting? +Nobody. They’re just making each other happy. And you want their heads +to roll because it makes you feel funny.” + +She covered her face with her hands and rubbed her eyes roughly. Through +her fingers she said, “I don’t want to hurt them. I just don’t want to +stand there and watch them.” + +“Well, why didn’t you dance?” he said. “Hell, I don’t like being a +wallflower, either.” + +“Jack, I can’t dance like that,” she said in a hushed voice. + +“Why can’t you?” She refused to answer, so he answered for her. “You +can. You just won’t. But you know something, my little friend? One of +these days, you will.” + +“You’re no prophet, Jack. Don’t predict _my_ future.” She started +walking again. + +He followed her, throwing up his hands. “Okay, okay. It shook you. But +not because it was vulgar and indecent. Because it was beautiful and +exciting. Besides, you envied those kids on the dance floor. Didn’t +you?” + +Her confession never came. They walked in silence the rest of the way to +Jack’s apartment. He closed and locked the front door and turned on the +living room light, tossing his jacket into a chair. + +“Beebo,” he said, lighting a cigarette. “You’ve been living with me +almost a month now—” + +“If you want me to move, I’ll move.” She was surly and defensive. + +“I want you to stay. When you move, it’ll be because you want to,” he +said. “Besides, that’s not what I want to talk about. In the past month, +you have never once told me the most important thing about yourself, +Beebo.” + +She felt a flash of fear, piercing as sudden light in darkness. “I don’t +know what you mean,” she said. + +Jack gave her the freshly lighted cigarette and she hid gratefully +behind a smoke screen. “You know,” he said. “But I’m not going to insist +on it. I think you want to talk to me, but you’re afraid. I’m trying +every way I know to show you that it won’t offend me, Beebo. You think +about that. You think about the people who are my friends—people I enjoy +and respect—and then you ask yourself what you have to fear.” + +There was a long pause. At last she said, “It isn’t that easy, Jack. I +should know what I am. But I don’t know myself at all. Especially here +in this new place. Back in Juniper Hill, I could only see what other +people saw, and I was afraid and ashamed. But here, I look all +different. I even feel different.” She looked at her hands. “Don’t push +me, Jackson.” And she rushed past him suddenly, to cry in the privacy of +the bathroom; to wonder why the girls she had seen that night had moved +her so dramatically. + + * * * * * + +She did not fall asleep until very late. And when she did, she dreamed +of sweet, supple, smiling-faced girls, dancing sensuously in each +other’s arms; glancing at her with wide curious eyes; beckoning to her. +She saw herself glide slowly, almost reluctantly, over the floor with a +girl whose long black hair hung halfway down her back; a girl with an +old-fashioned name: Mona. Beebo touched the hair, the long dipping curve +of the back till her hands rested on Mona’s hips. + +The next thing she knew, Jack was shaking her awake. “Wake up! Jesus!” +he said, grinning at her in the early light. “You’re beating hell out of +the mattress.” + +Her eyes flew wide open and she stared at him, stuttering. + +“Funny thing about dreams,” he said softly. “They let you be yourself in +the dark. When you can be yourself in the morning, too, you’ll be +cured.” + +“Cured of what?” she said in a disgruntled whisper. + +Jack chuckled. “Dreams,” he said. “You won’t need ’em.” + +Beebo was relieved when he went back to sleep. There was no escaping now +what she was. The dancing lovers in the Colophon had impressed it +indelibly on her. And yet Jack wanted her to confirm it in so many +words, and the idea terrified her. It would be like accepting a label +for the rest of her life—a label she didn’t even understand yet. + +And there was no one to tell her that the time would come when the label +wouldn’t frighten her; when she would be happy simply to be what she +was. + + * * * * * + +They went a while longer without discussing it. Jack was on the verge of +confronting Beebo a dozen times with his own homosexuality. But she +would catch the look in his eye and warn him with tacit signs to keep +still. He began to wonder if she understood about him at all. He had +tried to make it obvious the night they went barhopping. He wanted to +say to her, “Okay, I’m gay. But that doesn’t make me less human, less +moral, less _normal_ than other men. You’ve got the same bug, Beebo; +only with you, it’s girls. Look at me: I’m proof you can live with it. +You don’t need to hate yourself or the people you’re attracted to.” + +But if she saw it she kept it to herself. _She’s too wrapped up in +discovering herself to discover me too_, he thought. He tried to kid +her. “You think it’s all right for the other girls but not for Beebo,” +he said, but she wouldn’t give him a smile. He felt stumped in front of +her stubborn silence; aching to help her, afraid of scaring her into an +emotional crack-up. + +She was very tense. And then one evening, about a week after her night +out with Jack, over dinner she said, “Mona was in the shop again. I +talked to her.” + +Jack looked up in surprise. “What about?” + +“I asked if she was Mona Petry. She is.” She seemed afraid to elaborate. + +“Is that all?” he smiled. + +“You were right about her—she’s gay.” She looked up to catch the smile. + +“Did she say so?” he asked. + +“No, Pete said so after she left. He said he used to date her but he +dropped her when he found out.” + +“Well, he’s got it backwards, but never mind. The point is, Mona’s a +slippery little bitch. She’s good to look at but she isn’t any fun. +She’s out to screw the whole damn world. If I were you—” + +“Jackson, I don’t give a damn what you think of Mona Petry,” Beebo said. + +“Then why bring her up?” + +She colored, and put down a few more bites of the dinner they were +eating. Finally, slowly, with her face still pink, she said, “Do you +think it would be all right if I went out tonight? I mean—alone?” + +“If you eat all your spinach.” + +“I am asking you,” she said hotly, “because I value your judgment. Not +because I’m an addlepated child.” + +“All right,” he said, smiling into his napkin. “Where do you want to +go?” + +She looked at her plate. “The Colophon,” she said, making him strain to +hear it. + +“Why? Want to drop a bomb on the dance floor?” + +She sighed. “Pete says Mona hangs out there.” + +“In that case, I don’t think it’s safe,” he said flatly. “But it should +be educational.” + +She said, “Jack, I’m scared. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared of +anything in my life.” + +“It’s no disgrace to be scared, Beebo. Only to act like it.” + +“I feel as if that damn silly bar—the people in it—are a sort of +challenge,” she said, fumbling to express it justly. “As if I have to go +back or I’ll never know....” She shook her head with a self-conscious +smile. “That’s a hell of a place to go looking for yourself.” + +“Hell of a place to go looking for Mona,” he said. “I don’t know though, +pal. It has to come sooner or later. It’s time you learned a thing or +two. You’re naive, but you’re no fool. Go on—but go slow.” + + * * * * * + +Mona was not at the Colophon that night, nor for many nights afterward. +In a way, Beebo was relieved. She wanted to meet her, but she wanted +time to meet other people too, to see other places, and cruise around +the Village without any pressure on her to prove things to herself. Or +to a worldly girl like Mona Petry. Beebo was still a stranger in a +strange town, unsure, and grateful for a chance to learn unobserved. + +She would sit and gaze for hours at the girls in the bars or passing in +the streets. She wanted to talk to them, see what they were like. She +was often drawn to one enough to daydream about her, but she never +mentioned it to Jack. Still, she was eagerly curious about the Lesbian +mores and social codes. The gay girls seemed so smooth and easy with +each other; talking about shared experiences in a special slang, like +members of an exclusive sorority. + +Beebo, watching them as the days and weeks passed, became slowly aware +how much she envied them. She wanted to join the in-group. And she would +watch them longingly and wonder if their talk was ever about her. It +was. + +A few of Jack’s friends, who had met her in his company, would come up +and talk with her, and knowing for certain that they were Lesbians gave +Beebo a vibrant pleasure, whether or not the girls themselves were +exciting. Looking at one she would think, _She knows how it feels to +want what I want. I could make her happy. I know it._ Even the word +“Lesbian,” that had offended her before, began to sound wonderful in her +ears. + +She shocked herself with such candid thoughts, but that was only at +first. Little by little, it began to seem beautiful to her that two +women could come together with passion and intelligence and make a life +with and for each other; make a marriage. She dreamed of lovely, +sophisticated women at her feet, aware even as she dreamed that she +hadn’t yet the _savoir faire_ to win such a woman. But she was afire +with ambition to acquire it. + +She would walk into a bar, order a beer, and sit alone and silent +through an evening. In her solitude, she seemed mysterious to the +laughing chattering people around her. They began to point her out when +she came in. + +At first, ignorance and inexperience kept Beebo aloof. But she quickly +understood that her refusal to be sociable made her the target of a lot +of smiling speculation. When she got over being afraid of the situation, +it amused her. The fact that she attracted girls, even ones she knew she +would never pursue, was almost supernaturally strange and exciting to +her. She submitted to their teasing questions with an enigmatic smile +until she realized that one or two had worked themselves up to +infatuation pitch over her. + +There followed a period of elation when she walked into Julian’s or the +Cellar and saw the eyes she knew had waited all night to look into hers +turn and flash in her direction. She always passed them by and went to a +seat at the bar. But each time she came closer to stopping and answering +a smile or asking someone to join her in a beer. And still, she couldn’t +find Mona. + +The only wrong note in the tune was a boy, slight and fine-featured, who +watched her and seemed to have persuaded himself that he loved her. He +fell for her with an awkward crush that embarrassed them both. Often, at +the end of an evening when he was pretty high, he would approach her and +timidly offer to buy her a drink. + +Beebo kept turning him down, kindly but firmly. He always flinched when +she said no, and she pitied him. He had a gentle appealing face, fair in +the way of extreme youth. She guessed he must be a couple of years +younger than she, and wondered how he could buy drinks in a bar. + +“I’m sorry, I’m just leaving,” she would tell him. + +And he would watch her go, wistfully. He looked tired and malnourished, +and she wondered once if it would offend him to be offered a free +sandwich. She never quite got up the nerve to find out. + + * * * * * + +At home, Jack did not press her. But her silence regarding her +activities at night worried him and put a strain between them. She knew +that Jack was waiting for her to talk about it, and she wanted to be +honest with him more than ever. He had been patient, humorously tolerant +with her. And she knew that he was a man of the world. He had made it +clear that he enjoyed the friendship of many delightful gay women, that +he approved of them and that he thought she might enjoy their company. + +But he had not said, “Oh, come on, Beebo. You’re gay. Admit it. We both +know it.” He had, however, come closer than she knew to saying it. And +it was hard for Jack himself to realize that his hints and jokes were +couched in a language still foreign to her in many ways. Often they went +over her head or were taken at face value; saved and worried over, but +never fathomed. + +So she found herself hung up on a dilemma: she was sure of his +friendship as long as she was an observer of the gay scene, not a +sister-in-the-bonds. But what would he say if she told him she had a +desperate crush on Mona Petry with the long black hair? Or that she got +dizzy with the joy of being in a crowd of gay girls; near enough to +touch, to overhear, to look and look and look until they whirled through +her dreams at night. + +Would he say, _You can play with the matches but don’t get burned?_ +Would he pity her? Turn on his wit? Would he—could he—take it with the +easy calm he showed in other circumstances? + +She thought he could. She felt closer to him now that she had spent +nearly two months under his roof. She knew his heart was big, and she +had seen him in a Lesbian bar talking with his friends there. He was not +being condescending. He valued them. + +Perhaps more than anything, she was persuaded by the need to talk it +out; the need for help and comfort. And that was Jack’s forte. + + * * * * * + +Beebo and Jack were watching a TV show one evening when he asked her, +during the commercial, why she wasn’t going out that night. “Don’t tell +me you gave up on Mona,” he teased. + +Instead of answering, she told him about the boy who was in love with +her. “His name is Pat,” she said. “The bartender told me. He looks +hungry, as if he needs to be cared for.” She laughed. “I was never much +for maternal instincts—but he seems to bring them out.” + +“I’d like to meet him. He might bring mine out, too,” Jack said. + +“Why don’t you come with me Friday? He’s always at Julian’s.” + +Jack looked away. “I’ve been trying to give you a free rein,” he said. +“You don’t want me along. I’ll find him myself.” + +“I do want you along,” she said. “I like your company.” + +“More than the girls’?” he grinned. + +She felt herself tense all over. There had been so many chances lately +to talk to him, and she had run away from them all. Now, she felt a +surge of defiance, a will to have it out. He had a right to know at +least as much about her as she knew about herself. He had earned it +through his generosity and affection. + +“I read a book once,” she said clumsily. “Under my covers at night—when +I was fifteen. It was about two girls who loved each other. One of them +committed suicide. It hit me so hard I wanted to die, too. That’s about +as close as I’ve come to reality in my life, Jack. Until now.” + +He leaned over and switched off the television. The room was so quiet +they could hear themselves breathing. + +“I was kicked out of school,” she went on hesitantly, “because I looked +so much like a boy, they thought I must be acting like one. Chasing +girls. Molesting them. Everything I ever did to a girl, or wanted to do +or dreamed of doing, happened in my imagination. The trouble was, +everybody else in Juniper Hill had an imagination, too. And they had me +doing all these things for real.” She shut her eyes and tried to force +her heart to slow down, just by thinking about it. + +“And you never did?” he said. “You never tried? There must have been +girls, Beebo—” + +“There were, but all I had to do was talk to one and her name was mud. I +wouldn’t do that to anybody I cared for.” + +Jack stared at her, wondering what geyser of emotion must be waiting to +erupt from someone so intense, so yearning, and so rigidly denied all +her life. + +“My father tried to teach me not to hate myself because I looked like +hell in gingham frills,” she said. “But when you see people turn away +and laugh behind their hands.... It makes you wonder what you really +are.” She looked at him anxiously, and then she said it. “I’ve never +touched a girl I liked. Never made a pass or spoken a word of love to a +single living girl. Does that make me normal, Jack?... And yet I know I +could, and I think now I will, and God knows I want to desperately. Does +that make me gay?” She spoke rapidly, stopping abruptly as if her voice +had gone dead in her throat at the word “gay.” + +“Well, first,” he said kindly, “you’re Beebo Brinker, human being. If +you _are_ gay, that’s second. Some girls like you are gay, some aren’t. +Your body is boyish, but there’s nothing _wrong_ with it.” His voice was +reassuring. + +“Nothing, except there’s a boy inside it,” she said. “And he has to live +without all the masculine trimmings other boys take for granted. Jack, +long before I knew anything about sex, I knew I wanted to be tall and +strong and wear pants and ride horses and have a career ... and never +marry a man or learn to cook or raise babies. Never.” + +“That’s still no proof you’re gay,” he said, going slowly, letting her +convince herself. + +“I’m not even built like a girl. Girls are knock-elbowed and big-hipped. +They can’t throw or run or—look at my arm, Jack. I was the best pitcher +on the team whenever they let me play.” She rolled her sleeve back and +showed him a well-muscled arm, browned and veined and straight as a +boy’s. + +“I see,” he murmured. + +“It was the parents who gave me the worst of it,” she said. “The kids +weren’t too bad till I got to high school. But you know what happens +then. You get hairy and you get pimples and you have to start using a +deodorant.” + +Jack laughed silently behind his cigarette. + +“And the boys get big and hot and anxious, like a stallion servicing a +mare.” + +Jack swallowed, feeling himself move. “And the girls?” + +“The girls,” she sighed, “get round and soft and snippy.” + +“And instead of round and soft, you got hot and anxious?” + +“All of a sudden, I was Poison Ivy Brinker,” she confirmed. “Nobody +wanted whatever it was I had. My brother Jim said I wasn’t a boy and I +wasn’t a girl, and I had damn well better be one or the other or he’d +hound me out of school himself.” + +“What did you do?” + +“I tried to be like the rest. But not to please _that_ horse’s ass.” Her +farmer’s profanity tickled him. “I did it for Dad. He thought I was +adjusting pretty well, and that was his consolation. I never told him +how bad it was.” + +“So now you want to find Mona Petry,” Jack said, after a small pause, +“and ask her if you’re gay.” + +“Not _ask_ her. Just get to know her and see if it could happen. She +makes me wonder so ... Jack, what makes a feminine girl like that gay? +Why does she love other girls, when she’s just as womanly and perfumed +as the girl who goes for men? I used to think that all homosexual girls +were three-quarters boy.” She hung her head. “Like me, I guess. And that +they were all doomed to love feminine girls who could never love them +back. It seems like a miracle that a girl like Mona could love a—” she +stopped, embarrassed. + +“Could love a girl like you,” he finished for her. “Take it on faith, +honey. She doesn’t have to look like a Ram tackle to know that her +happiness lies with other women. The girls you see around town aren’t +all boyish, are they?” + +“They’re not all gay, either.” + +He ground out his cigarette. “Tell me why they ran you out of Juniper +Hill. The whole story. Was it really just a nasty rumor about you and +the Jones girl?” + +Beebo lay down, stretched out on the sofa, and answered without looking +at him. “They’d been hoping for an excuse for years,” she said. “It was +in April, last spring. I went to the livestock exhibition in Chicago +with Dad and Jim. I was in the stalls with them most of the time, +handling some of the steers from our county. Sweaty and gritty, and not +thinking about much but the job. And then one night—I’ll never know +why—I took it into my head to wear Jim’s good clothes. + +“I knew it was dangerous, but suddenly it was also irresistible. Maybe I +just wanted to get away with it. Maybe it was the feel of a man’s +clothes on my back, or a simple case of jealousy. Anyway, I played sick +at dinnertime, and stayed in the hotel till they left. + +“Jack, it was as though I had a fever. The minute I was alone I put +Jim’s things on. I slung Dad’s German camera over my shoulder and took +his Farm Journal press pass. On the way over, I stopped for a real man’s +haircut. The barber never said a word. Just took my money and stared. + +“I looked older than Jim. I felt wonderful.” She stopped, her chin +trembling. “A blonde usher showed me to the press section. She was small +and pretty and she asked me if I was from the ‘working press.’ I said +yes because it sounded important. She gave me a seat in the front row +with a typewriter. It was screwed down to a stand. God, imagine!” She +almost laughed. + +“I really blitzed them,” she said, remembering the good part with a +throb of regret. “Everybody else was writing on their machines to beat +hell, but I didn’t even put a piece of paper in mine. After a while I +took out the camera and made some pictures. The girl came back and said +I could work in the arena if I wanted to, and I did. It was hotter than +hades but I wouldn’t have taken that tweed jacket off for a fortune. + +“I guess I took pictures for almost three hours ... just wandered +around, kidding the girls on horseback and keeping clear of the +Wisconsin people.” She hesitated and Jack said, “What happened then?” + +“I got sick,” she whispered. “My stomach. I thought it was bad food. Or +that damn heat. Awful stomach cramps. In half an hour I was so miserable +I could hardly stand up and I was scared to death I might faint. If I’d +had any sense I’d have gone back to my seat and rested. But not Beebo. I +didn’t want to waste my moment of glory. It would go away—it _had_ to. + +“Well, I was right about one thing—I fainted, right there in the arena. +The next I knew, I was strangling on smelling salts and trying to sit up +on a cot in the Red Cross station. The doctor asked how I felt and I +said it was indigestion. He wanted to have a look. + +“I was terrified. I tried to laugh it off. I said I was tired, I said it +was the heat, I said it was something I ate. But that bastard had to +look. He thought it might be appendicitis. There was nothing I could do +but cover my face and curse, and cry,” she said harshly. Jack handed her +a newly-lighted cigarette, and she took it, still talking. + +“The doctor saw the tears, and that was the tip-off. He opened my shirt +so fast the buttons flew. And when he saw my chest, he opened the pants +without a word. Just big bugeyes.” She gave Jack a look of sad disgust. +“I had the curse,” she muttered. “First time.” + +After a moment she went on, “I never meant to hurt anybody or cause a +scene. But I hurt my father too much. He suffered over it. I had to wait +till my hair grew out before I could go back to school, but I could have +saved myself the bother. They let me know as soon as I got back I wasn’t +wanted. Before Chicago, they thought I was just a queer kid. But +afterwards, I was really queer. There’s a big difference.” + +Jack listened, bound to her by the story with an empathy born of his own +emotional aberration. + +“The principal of the high school said he hoped he could count on me to +understand his position. _His_ position. I wanted to ask him if he +understood _mine_.” There was hopeless bitterness in her voice. + +“They never do,” Jack said quietly. “Still, that’s not the only high +school in the world. You could finish up somewhere else and go on to +pre-med, Beebo.” + +“You didn’t,” she reminded him. “You got fed up and quit. But me—I’ve +been expelled. I’m not wanted anywhere.” + +“Do you think a job as a truck driver is worth sacking a medical career +for?” + +“What did you sack yours for?” He was making her defensive. + +“My story’s all over,” he said. “But there’s still time for you. Beebo, +do you know what you’re trying to do? Get _even_ with the world. You’re +so mad at it, and everybody in it for the bum deal you got, you’re going +to deny it a good doctor some day.” + +“I’d be a rotten doctor, Jack. I’d be scared. I’d be running and hiding +every day of my life.” + +“Hell, plenty of doctors are gay. They manage.” He was surprised at the +importance it was assuming in his own mind. He really cared about it. It +depressed him to think of what she might be and what she was in a fair +way now of becoming. “You’re thinking that if people are going to reject +you, by God you’re going to reject them first. If they make it hard for +you to be a doctor, you’ll make damn sure they never _get_ that doctor. +You’ve been keeping score and now you’re avenging yourself on the world +because most of the people in it are straight. You keep it up and you’ll +turn into a joyless old dyke without a shred of love in her heart for +anyone.” + +Beebo sat up and frowned at him, surprised but not riled. “Are you +telling me to go to hell because I—I think I’m gay?” she asked. + +“I’m telling you to go to college,” he said seriously. + +“Jack, you goofed your chance for an M.D. for reasons a lot flimsier +than mine. What are you trying to do? Push me into school so you can +make peace with your conscience? You’re the one who wants to give that +good doctor to humanity. If it can’t be yourself, better it should be +Beebo than nobody. And Jack Mann will have made a gift to his fellow +men. Jack, the Great Humanitarian. And you won’t even have to crack a +book.” She spoke wryly, but without rancor. + +Jack was stunned into silence by her flash of insight. + +“I hit it, didn’t I?” she said. “Jack, you don’t know what you’re asking +me to do: wear a skirt for the rest of my life. Forget about love till +my heart dries up. Go back and face the father I destroyed and the +brother who hates me ... well, I can’t. I’m no martyr. I’m not brave +enough to try to be a doctor now, just because you tried and failed. And +feel bad about it.” + +He took her hands and rubbed them. “You hit it dead on, little pal, but +only part of it,” he said. “Sure, I’d like to see you with a medical +degree and know I’d had something to do with it. But forget me. Be +selfish about it. A degree would protect you, not expose you to more +trouble. Knowledge, success, the respect of other doctors—that would be +your defense against the world.” + +“There’s no protection against myself. My feelings. I didn’t tell you +about the girls back home, Jack, walking down country lanes after school +with their arms around the boys, kissing and laughing. The girls I +couldn’t touch or talk to or even smile at. The girls I’d grown up with, +suddenly filling out their sweaters and their nylons, smooth and sweet +with scented hair and pink mouths. I didn’t tell you how I ached for +them.” + +He got up and crossed the room, looking out his front windows. “I don’t +want you to end up an old bull dyke in faded denims, letting some blowsy +little fem take care of you,” he said acidly. “You’re not a bum.” + +“I don’t want that, either. But Jack, I can’t spend the rest of my life +wondering!” She went to his side, speaking urgently, wanting him to root +for her, not against her. “They call this life gay,” she said softly, +following his gaze out the windows. “I need a little gaiety.” + +“They call it gay out of a perverted sense of humor,” he said. + +Across the street two young women were walking slowly in the mild +evening air, arms around each other’s waists. “There,” Beebo said, +nodding at them. “That’s what I want. I’ve wanted it ever since I knew +girls did such things.” + +“You mean Mona?” he said. + +Beebo shoved her hands into her pockets, self-conscious as always when +that name came up. “You have to start somewhere,” she said. + +“You have quite a thing about her, don’t you?” he said. + +Beebo’s cheeks flushed and she looked at the floor. “I never dared to +admit that I wanted a girl before, Jack. Maybe I picked the wrong time. +Or the wrong audience.” + +“Pal, you just picked the wrong girl.” + +“I don’t want you to pity me. That’s why I held out so long. I need you, +Jack. You’re the first friend—the first brother—I ever had.” + +Jack was touched and embarrassed. “I feel no pity for you, Beebo,” he +said. “You don’t need pity. I feel friendship and ... anxiety. If you’ve +made up your mind to stay here, I’ll do anything to help you, teach you, +take you around. But, honey—not Mona. She doesn’t believe in anything +but kicks. She’ll charm the pants off you and then leave you standing +naked in front of your enemies.” + +“Are you trying to say you disapprove of Mona, but not of the fact that +I’m—I _must_ be—gay?” she said. + +“Why would I disapprove of that?” he said and then he laughed. “I swear +to God, Beebo, you can be thicker than bean soup. I’ve done everything +but sing it for you in C sharp.” + +“I know you’ve tried to be tolerant and all, introducing me to your +friends. I thought it was because you suspected about me and you wanted +to be a good sport.” + +“I’m trying to explain about _me_, not you,” he said, throwing out his +hands and still chuckling. + +Beebo smiled back, mystified. “Let me in on the joke, will you?” + +“The joke’s on me this time,” he said. + +She studied him a moment, her smile yielding to perplexity. And then she +said, “Oh!” suddenly and lifted a hand to her face. She went back to the +sofa and sat down with her head in her hands. + +“Well, you don’t need to feel badly about it, pal,” he said, joining +her. “I don’t. There are even days when I feel sorry for the straight +people.” + +“Jesus, I should have seen it,” she murmured. + +“No, you shouldn’t. I’m a genius at hiding it.” + +“Jack, I’m sure a fool. I’ve been up to my eyes in my own troubles.” + +He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe you wouldn’t figure it out. It’s +hard to realize the kind of life you’ve been leading up to now. How +little you’ve been allowed to see or understand.” + +She looked up at him. “Thanks for being patient,” she said. “I mean it. +Jack, how long have you been gay? How did you find out about yourself?” + +“I didn’t. I was told. In the Navy, by a hairy little gob who kept +climbing into my bunk at night and telling me fairy stories. When he got +a rise out of me, he made the diagnosis. I told him to go to hell, but +the next night, I was climbing into _his_ bunk.” + +It made her smile. “Can you forgive me?” she said. + +“Nothing to forgive. And I’ll let you back into my good graces on one +condition. Do you think your friend Pat will be in bloom tonight?” + +“Probably,” she said, seeing him through her new understanding as +through a rainbow curtain. He was a new shape, a new color, a new man. +She was vastly relieved, and just a little awed. And ashamed of her +bean-soup intuition. + +“Let’s go look at him,” Jack said. + + * * * * * + +The night was hot and damp, with a low black sky that had looked +menacing in the daylight, but was soft and close as dark came down, +floating over the neon merriment below. + +Beebo was quiet as they walked, preoccupied with a new attitude toward +Jack and an almost unbearable sense of anticipation. Pat was usually at +Julian’s. When they arrived, the bar was crowded but there was standing +room at one end. They squeezed in and ordered drinks, and Beebo began to +pick out the faces that searched for her. + +“Is he here?” Jack asked, glancing around. + +She discovered him right away. “Over there in the blue shirt,” she said, +nodding. + +“They all have blue shirts,” Jack said, squinting through the smoke. + +“The blond one.” + +There was a pause and Jack’s face puckered thoughtfully. “He looks +pretty young,” he said in a bemused voice. + +“You mean, you like his face?” Beebo smiled at him. + +“It’s a face,” he said noncommittally, and when she laughed he shrugged +and added, “Okay. A nice face. Beebo, I think you’re playing cupid.” + +“I wouldn’t know how,” she said. “Besides, you told me you only fell in +love in the fall or the spring. This is midsummer.” But she wondered +suddenly what would happen if he broke his rule. It made her heart drop. +Jack’s apartment was small, with just one bed. Even if he didn’t ask her +to leave, how welcome would she be if he invited a third party to share +it with them? She’d have to bow out, out of simple consideration. But +where could she go? She had avoided making any friends, and the +Pasquinis with their five kids were out of the question. She would have +preferred a park bench anyway to a room with Pete Pasquini in it. + +Beebo and Jack were both caught unaware by the sudden quiet +interruption. There he was, Beebo’s boy, standing behind and between +them. He had come over in the moment it took them to discuss him and now +they looked at him in surprise. + +He paled a little and started to back away, but Jack put a hand on his +shoulder. “Don’t panic. We’re harmless when we’re drinking,” he said. +“What’s your name?” + +“Pat Kynaston,” said the boy, staring into his beer. He supposed Beebo +had Jack with her this time to show him she was taken, and he was +crushed. + +“Pat? That’s a girl’s name,” Beebo kidded. + +Pat swallowed some beer and moved the sawdust under his shoes. + +“Have a drink, honey,” Jack said, and Beebo felt a stir of strange +interest in the endearment. And yet Pat seemed more like a child than a +man, and it was easy to call him fond names. In spite of his light beard +he had a child’s face, full of a child’s hardy trust. He smiled at Jack, +reassured. + +“He looks as green as you did last May,” Jack told Beebo. “How long have +you been here, Pat?” + +“Oh, since seven-thirty, I guess.” + +“No, I mean in New York?” Jack grinned. + +“Oh. January.” Pat’s eyes remained on Beebo while he answered Jack. But +when she returned the look, he glanced down to her belt. “I left school +then,” he said. + +“Sounds like the story of my life,” said Beebo. “How old are you?” + +“Twenty-seven.” + +Jack cleared his throat and Beebo’s mouth dropped open. “With that +face?” Jack protested. “You mean your _father_ is twenty-seven.” + +Pat laughed a little and shook his head. + +“Besides, what is a twenty-seven-year-old child doing in school? You +should be through.” + +“I was working on a doctorate in entomology.” + +“Bugs? You don’t look like a bug collector,” Jack said with a grimace, +and they laughed while the drinks came up. Jack pulled Pat between +himself and Beebo and teased him for a while, making him blush and +answer questions. But when it came out that Pat was working as a +garbage-collector for the New York City Department of Sanitation, Jack +stopped laughing. + +“God! A frail kid like you? You shouldn’t do work like that,” he +declared. + +“It was all I could get. Nobody wants an entomologist _manqué_,” Pat +said. “I guess that’s why I’m skinny. I look at those rotting scraps all +day and when I get home the stuff in my icebox looks just as bad.” + +Jack tapped Beebo on the shoulder. “Do we have any of Marie’s chicken +tetrazini in the refrigerator?” + +“Plenty.” + +“Let’s go.” Jack threw a couple of bills on the counter and took Pat by +the elbow. Beebo took the other and they walked him out of Julian’s and +down the street. + + * * * * * + +Beebo had been elated to learn that Jack, too, was gay. But now she felt +the first twinge of misgiving. Jack was the older brother she never +really had; one she could learn from, look up to, even love. It was a +valuable feeling, new to her. For as fiercely as she resented Jim, she +had always harbored a secret regret that they could not have been +friends. + +They walked toward Jack’s place with Pat clinging in bewildered pleasure +to Beebo, the object of what had seemed so long a futile attraction. But +Beebo was lost in herself, wondering if she could make it yet in the +city on her own. She was strong and handsome, and she walked, gestured, +even swore with a boyish gusto that made her seem more experienced than +she was. But she was still untutored in the ways of metropolitan gay +life and that fact undermined her self-confidence. + + * * * * * + +They put Pat, who was high enough to be sleepy, on Jack’s sofa and +looked at him. He dozed a little, his fair face averted, and the two +roommates were struck with the beauty of his features. Beebo was +unnerved to find herself suddenly wanting a girl with blast-furnace +intensity. + +“I’ll heat the bird,” she offered to Jack, “if you’ll mind the patient.” + +“You’re on,” he said. + +But she was sorry to have to leave them alone together. Jack was +entirely too taken with the boy. Beebo moved pensively around the +kitchen, preparing the food with unaccustomed hands. + +Jack brought Pat to the table when she called them. Pat looked so +slender and peaked that she felt a good doctor’s desire to stuff him +full of nourishment. + +He leaned against the door frame, gazing at Beebo. “Who are you, +anyway?” he asked, drunk enough to be brave. + +“Sit down, Hungry,” Beebo said, smiling at him. + +Abashed, but unappeased, he obeyed. + +“You know what’s wrong with you, Pat? Malnutrition,” she said. “If you +had any food under your belt, you wouldn’t give two bits for me.” He +turned a baffled face to her. “Why hell, the damn bugs eat better than +you do,” she told him. “They get all the garbage that ruins your +appetite.” + +She tried to feed him but he turned away. “I can’t,” he said. The +excitement of coming home with this girl he had admired so fervently for +a couple of months was too much; that, and all the beer he had drunk ... +and a new gentle feeling stirring in him for Jack Mann. + +“Sure you can,” Beebo said, and began to feed him as if he were a sick +lamb, while Jack cut the chicken bits for her. When Pat tried to protest +she popped a mess of spicy meat between his teeth and shushed him, +wishing all the while that she were ministering to a lovely girl instead +of a lost boy. + +Beebo stole a look at Jack, afraid of what she might see. But he was +regarding Pat with compassion, the same he had shown to her when he +found her ... and just a trace of desire, tightly controlled. Jack had +kindly instincts. It was one of the things Beebo admired most in him. He +took care of people because it made him happy. No one was to blame if, +when the person was a beautiful young boy, it made him very happy +indeed. + +Beebo got the chicken down Pat and made him drink his milk, which he did +out of pure infatuation for her. And then Jack filled the silence with +one word: “Bedtime.” + +But Pat seemed to be in a sort of trance, brought on by fatigue, +fascination, and a full stomach. “Are you conscious?” Jack asked him +with a smile. + +“I was just thinking,” Pat murmured, blinking at Beebo. “Maybe I’m +straight.” + +They laughed at him, till he got indignant and tried to explain that +even Beebo’s marginal femininity didn’t discourage him. + +“You need some sleep, buddy,” Jack told him, and took him off to the +sofa. “And no damn trash cans for you in the morning.” + +“What if I lose my job?” Pat said. + +“That would be the best thing that could happen to you.” + +“I’ll starve,” Pat whispered. + +“Not while I’m around,” Jack said. Pat smiled at him sleepily, and then +shut his eyes and turned on his side. + + * * * * * + +Beebo climbed into Jack’s bed feeling like an impostor. But she was +embarrassed to make an issue of it; more than that, afraid. If she +offered to take the sofa herself, Jack might grab the chance to have Pat +beside him all night. + +Beebo felt no physical attraction to Pat; only sympathetic interest. But +his puppy love had scorched her a little; just enough to keep her moving +and twisting on the warm sheets for an hour, obsessed with the growing +need for a girl. A girl to curl in her lap and kiss her and talk away +her fears. + +Pat’s loneliness shocked her. She saw herself mirrored in his +predicament. Who was more alone than a lost and defenseless soul, hungry +for something it couldn’t find? Couldn’t even define? It was enough to +warp the heart, deform the soul. + +It was enough to get her out of bed at midnight that night, make her +dress in silence and leave the apartment, undetected by Jack or Pat. + + * * * * * + +She was almost as surprised to find herself on the street as Jack would +have been to see her there. And yet the cool night air washed gratefully +over her face and cleared her thoughts. She wandered aimlessly a while, +as if trying to ignore the one place she wanted to visit: the Colophon. + +But her feet took her there anyway, and she found herself ringing the +bell. The owner opened the peek-through in the door and nodded to her. +She felt a momentary country-girl shame at being recognized in such a +place. But she was glad enough to gain entrance. The glow inside was the +color of fluorescent Merthiolate. It seemed almost antiseptic to Beebo, +who had painted the undersides of countless cows and sows with +disinfectants the same shade prior to a delivery. + +She took a seat at the bar. “Scotch and water,” she said. + +While the barman got it, she gazed idly into the mirror behind him, +picking out the interesting girls surrounding her. She felt +uncomfortable here in the pants she usually wore to work; in her hair +that had just been cut and was too short again. + +_Do they think I’m funny?_ she wondered. _Or—exciting?_ She drank in +silence, and ordered another, thinking that the solitude and uncertainty +she felt now were worse than those she felt with Jack. For a minute, +almost anything seemed better than having to leave Jack, with only fifty +bucks a week to spend, no friends, and no place to live. + +The bartender brought her another drink while she searched for the last +cigarette in her pack. It was empty. The girl sitting next to her +immediately offered her one, but Beebo declined. It was partly her +shyness, partly the knowledge that it was better to be hard-to-get in +the Colophon. + +“Do you have cigarettes?” she asked the bartender. + +“Machine by the wall,” he said. + +She got up and sauntered over, ignoring the outrage on the face of the +girl at the bar. The machine swallowed her coins and spit out a pack of +filter-tips. Beebo noticed the jukebox, looked at her change, and fed it +a quarter, good for three dances. She liked to watch the girls move +around the floor together, now that the initial revolt had worn off. + +But when she regained her seat, she found most of the patrons paying +attention to her, not the tunes. She looked back at them, surprised and +wary. The cigarettes in her hand were an excuse to look away for a +minute and she did, lighting one while the general conversation died +away like a weak breeze. She lowered her match slowly and glanced up +again, her skin prickling. What in hell were they trying to do? Scare +her out? Show her they didn’t like her? Had she been too aloof with +them, too remote and hard to know? + +She had started the music, and it was an invitation to dance. They were +waiting for her to show them. It wasn’t hostility she saw on their faces +so much as, “Show us, if you’re so damn big and smart. We’ve been +waiting for a chance to trap you. This is it.” + +She had to do something to humanize herself. There was an air of +self-confidence and sensual promise about Beebo that she couldn’t help. +And when she felt neither confident nor sensual, she looked all the more +as if she did: tall and strong and coolly sure of herself. She had +turned the drawback of being young and ignorant into a deliberate +defense. + +It didn’t matter to the sophisticated girls judging her now that she was +a country girl fresh from the hayfields of Wisconsin, or that she had +never made love to a woman before in her life. They didn’t know that and +wouldn’t have believed it anyway. + +Beebo recognized quickly that she had to start acting the way she +looked. She had established a mood of expectation about herself, and now +it was time to come across. The music played on. It was Beebo’s turn. + +The match she held was burning near her finger, and because she had to +do something about _it_ and all the eyes on her, she turned to the girl +beside her and held out the match. + +“Blow,” she said simply, and the girl, with a smile, blew. + +Beebo returned the smile. “Well,” she said in her low voice, that +somehow carried even into the back room and the dance floor, “I’m damned +if I’m going to waste a good quarter.” She got up and walked across the +room toward the prettiest girl she could see, sitting at a table with +her lover and two other couples. It was exactly the way she would have +reacted to student-baiting at Juniper Hill High. The worse it got, the +taller she walked. Her heart was beating so hard she wanted to squeeze +it still. But she knew no one could hear it through her chest. + +She stopped in front of the pretty girl and looked at her for a second +in incredulous silence. Then she said quietly, “Will you dance with me, +Mona?” + +Mona Petry smiled at her. Nobody else in Greenwich Village would have +flouted the social code that way: walked between two lovers and taken +one away for a dance. Mona took a leisurely drag on her cigarette, +letting her pleasure show in a faint smile. Then she stood up and said, +“Yes. I will, Beebo.” Her lover threw Beebo a keen, hard look and then +relapsed into a sullen stare. + +Beebo and Mona walked to the floor single file, and Mona turned when she +got clear of the tables, lifting her arms to be held. The movement was +so easy and natural that it excited Beebo and made her bold—she who knew +nothing about dancing. But she was not lacking in grace or rhythm. She +took Mona in a rather prim embrace at first, and began to move her over +the floor as the music directed. + +Mona disturbed her by putting her head back and smiling up at her. At +last she said, “How did you know my name?” + +“Pete Pasquini told me,” Beebo said. “How did you know mine?” + +“Same answer,” Mona laughed. “He gets around, doesn’t he?” + +“So they say,” Beebo said. + +“You mean you don’t know from personal experience?” + +“Me?” Beebo stared at her. “Should I?” + +Mona chuckled. “No, you shouldn’t,” she said. + +“Did I—take you away from something over there?” Beebo said. + +“From some_body_,” Mona corrected her. “But it’s all right. She’s deadly +dull. I’ve been waiting for you to come over.” + +Beebo felt her face get warm. “I didn’t even see you until I stood up,” +she said. + +“I saw you,” Mona murmured. They danced a moment more, and Beebo pulled +her closer, wondering if Mona could feel her heart, now bongoing under +her ribs, or guess at the racing triumph in her veins. + +“Did you ask Pete about me?” Mona prodded. + +“A little,” Beebo admitted. And was surprised to find that the admission +felt good. “Yes,” she whispered. + +“What did he say?” + +“He said you were a wonderful girl.” + +“Did you believe him?” + +Beebo hesitated and finally said, huskily, “Yes.” + +“You’re a good dancer, Beebo,” Mona said, knowing, like an expert, just +how far to go before she switched gears. + +“I dance like a donkey,” Beebo grinned, strong enough in her victory to +laugh at herself. + +“No, you’re a natural,” Mona insisted. “A natural dancer, I mean.” + +“I don’t care what you mean, just keep dancing,” Beebo said. + +Mona put her head down against Beebo’s shoulder and laughed, and Beebo +felt the same elation as a man when he has impressed a desirable girl +and she lets him know it with her flattery. Mona—so elusive, so pretty, +so dominant in Beebo’s dreams lately. Beebo was holding her tighter than +she meant to, but when she tried to loosen her embrace, Mona put both +arms about her neck and pulled her back again. + +For the first time, Beebo had the nerve to look straight at her. It was +a long hungry look that took in everything: the long dark square-cut +hair and bangs; the big hazel eyes; the fine figure, slim and +exaggeratedly tall in high heels. But it was still necessary for her to +look up at Beebo. + +“It’s nice you’re so tall,” Mona told her. + +“Who’s the girl you’re with?” Beebo said. “I think she wants to drown +me.” + +“No doubt. Her name’s Todd.” + +“Is she a friend?” + +“She was, till you asked for this dance,” Mona smiled. + +Beebo didn’t want to make trouble. “I’m sorry,” she said. + +“Are you?” Mona was forward as only a world-weary girl with nothing to +learn—or lose—could be. And yet she seemed too young for such +ennui—still in her twenties. “Are you sorry about Todd?” she pressed +Beebo. + +“I’m not sorry I’m dancing with you, if that’s what you mean,” Beebo +said. + +“That’s what I mean,” Mona smiled. “Would you like to dance without an +audience, Beebo?” + +Beebo frowned at her. “You mean ditch your friends?” + +Mona could see that Beebo was offended by such a suggestion of +two-timing; and Mona was interested enough in this big, beautiful, +strange girl, not to want her offended. “They aren’t true friends,” Mona +said plaintively, “that you can count on, anyway. It’s all over between +Todd and me, too. We just came here to bury the corpse tonight. This is +where we met five months ago.” + +“Five months? That’s not very long to be in love with somebody,” Beebo +said. + +“I wasn’t,” Mona said. + +“Was she?” It seemed indescribably sad to Beebo that one partner be in +love and the other feel nothing. She wanted everyone to be happy on this +night full of sequin-lights and clouds of music: even Todd. + +“I never meant much to Todd,” Mona said. “Talk about ditching, Beebo. +I’m the one who’s getting ditched.” + +“You?” Beebo held her tightly, glad for the excuse. “How could anyone +ever do that to you?” + +Mona swayed against her, smiling with her eyes shut, and Beebo was too +immersed in her to notice the look on Todd’s face. + +“She likes to torment her lovers,” Mona whispered. “She uses them, as if +they were things. When she gets tired of them, she puts them in a drawer +and pulls them out to show off, like trophies. That’s all she +does—collect broken hearts.” + +“She sounds like a female dog,” Beebo commented. And yet the little +speech recalled disturbingly some of Jack’s remarks about Mona; as if +Mona were amusing herself by describing her own faults to Beebo and +pretending they were Todd’s. + +The music ended and they stood on the floor a moment, arms still clasped +about each other. “Wait at the bar,” Mona whispered into Beebo’s ear. +“I’ll get my coat.” Beebo glanced doubtfully at the table, but Mona +said, “It’ll be better if I tell her alone. Go on.” + +Beebo released her reluctantly, went to her seat and sipped at her drink +till Mona came up. She let Mona lead the way, feeling a sudden wild +exhilaration as she followed, lighting a cigarette, holding the door for +Mona, taking the street side when they reached the sidewalk. + +“Was Todd angry?” she asked. + +“No one wants to look the fool,” Mona said lightly, with a smile. + +“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t like to get you up the creek, Mona,” Beebo said. +“I didn’t want trouble.” + +“I make my own trouble, Beebo. I thrive on it. The way I see it—” she +paused to give Beebo her arm, and Beebo took it smoothly with a sense of +power and burgeoning desire, “—life is flat and dreary without trouble.” +Mona dodged a puddle, then continued. “Good trouble. Exciting trouble. +You can’t just walk across the Flats forever, doing what’s expected of +you. Excitement. That’s everything to me.” Mona stopped in her tracks to +look at Beebo with bright sly eyes. “Being good isn’t exciting. Right?” + +“I’m no philosopher,” Beebo said. + +“I’ll prove it to you. You’re a good person, aren’t you? You felt bad +about Todd. You’ve been good all your life. But are you happy?” + +“I am right now. Are you telling me to be bad?” Beebo said, laughing. + +“Would making love to me be bad?” Mona asked her, so directly that Beebo +wondered if she were being made fun of. There was no respect in Mona for +the innate privacy and mystery of every human soul. She saw them all as +part of the Flats—unless they could make beautiful trouble with her. +Then, she was interested. Then, she saw an individual. + +“Making love to you,” Beebo said slowly, “would have to be good.” + +“I’ll make it better than good.” Mona reached up for Beebo’s shoulders, +pulling her back into the dusk of a doorway. They stood there a moment, +Beebo in a fever of need and fear, till Mona’s hand slid up behind her +head, cupped it downward, and brought their lips together. + +Beebo came to life with a swift jerking movement. Mona’s kiss had been +light and brief, until Beebo caught her again in a violent embrace and +imprisoned her mouth. She forgot everything for a few minutes, holding +Mona there in her arms and kissing her lips, pressing her back against +the doorway and feeling the whole length of her body against Beebo’s +own. + +It wasn’t till she became aware that Mona was protesting that she let +her go. She stood in front of Mona, still trembling and weak-kneed, her +breath coming fast and her head spinning, and she felt oddly apologetic. +Mona had started it, but Beebo had carried it too far. “I’m sorry,” she +panted. + +“Stop saying you’re sorry all the time,” Mona told her in a sulky voice. +And, with a briskness that all but shattered the mood, she turned and +started walking off, her heels snapping against the asphalt. Beebo +stared after her, shocked. Was this the end of it? + +But Mona turned back after a quarter of a block and called her. “You +aren’t going to spend the night there, are you?” she said crisply. + +Beebo hurried after her, and they walked for two more blocks without +exchanging a word. Beebo could only suppose she had done something +wrong. Yet she didn’t know what, or how to make amends. + +Mona stopped at a brownstone house with six front steps. “I live here,” +she said. + +Beebo glanced up at it. “Shall I leave?” she said. + +“Do you want to?” + +“Don’t answer my questions with more questions!” Beebo said, a tide of +anger releasing her tongue. “Damn it, Mona, I don’t like evasions.” + +“All right. Don’t go,” Mona said, and smiled at the outburst. She went +up the steps with Beebo coming uneasily behind her, opened the door, and +went to the first-floor apartment in the back. At her door she pulled +out her key and waited. Beebo was looking around at the hall, old and +modest, but cleanly kept. The apartments in a place like this could be +astonishingly chic. She had seen some belonging to Jack’s friends. + +Mona let her take it in till Beebo became aware of the silence and +turned to her quizzically. + +“Approve?” Mona said. + +Beebo nodded, and Mona, as if that were the signal, turned the key in +the lock. She walked over the threshold, switched on a light, and +abruptly backed out again, preventing Beebo from entering. + +“What’s wrong?” Beebo said, surprised. + +“There’s someone in there,” Mona said. + +Without thinking, Beebo made a lunge for the door. She had thrown +prowlers out of her father’s house before. A situation like this scared +her far less than being in that room alone with Mona—much as she wanted +it. + +But Mona caught her arm. “It’s a friend of mine!” she hissed. “Beebo, +please!” Beebo stopped, irritated, waiting for an explanation. “It’s a +girl. I told her Todd and I were breaking up,” Mona shrugged. “I guess +she came over to cheer me up. We’ve been friends a long time. Oh, it’s +nothing romantic, Beebo.” + +“Well, send her home,” Beebo said. It was one thing to be afraid of +Mona; but another entirely to forfeit the whole night in honor of a hen +party. + +“I can’t.” Mona looked up at her in pretty distress. “She’s my one real +friend and I owe her a lot. She’s had some bad times in her own life +lately. Beebo, look—here’s my phone number. Call me in an hour. Maybe we +can still make it.” She took a scratch pad from her purse and scribbled +on it. + +Beebo took it, feeling rebuffed and insulted. But Mona stood on tiptoes +and kissed her lips again. And when Beebo refused to embrace her, Mona +took her wrists and pulled them around her and gave Beebo a luxurious +kiss. “Forgive me,” she said. “It would be tough if she knew I’d brought +someone home—it really would.” She slipped out of Beebo’s arms and put a +hand on the doorknob. “Be sure to call me,” she said. And then she +disappeared inside her apartment. + +Beebo stood in the hall a while, leaning on the dingy plaster and trying +to make sense out of Mona. There was no sound from the apartment. +Perhaps Mona and the girl had gone into a bedroom to talk. The idea made +Beebo angry and jealous. She went slowly down the front hall. There was +a pay phone by the entrance. Beebo went outside and sat on the front +stoop for about forty-five minutes, and then went in to call. + +She had lifted the telephone receiver and was about to drop in a dime, +when she heard a bang from the end of the hall, as if someone had +dropped something heavy. It seemed to come from Mona’s door, and Beebo +rushed toward it. But at the threshold, she froze. + +Mona’s voice, muffled as if through the walls of several rooms, but +discernible, penetrated the wood. “And you! You sneak in here like a rat +with the plague! God damn, how many times do I have to say it? _Call_ +first. Are you deaf or just stupid?” + +Beebo’s mouth opened as she strained to hear the answer. It came after a +slight pause: “Rats don’t scare you, doll. You already got the plague.” + +Beebo whirled away from the door as if she had been burned, and stood +with her knuckles pressed angrily against her temples. + +The voice belonged to a man. + + * * * * * + +It was several days before anything happened. Beebo went back to work as +usual. There were no calls, no notes, no effort on Mona’s part to get in +touch with her and explain. Or apologize. + +Beebo worked dully, but gratefully. Keeping busy was a balm to her +nerves. She took pleasure in driving, taking corners faster and making +deliveries in better time as she learned the routes. During the morning +she took out groceries. In the afternoon, it was fresh-cooked, hot +Italian food in insulated cartons. + +Mona and her male visitor were on Beebo’s mind so constantly that she +didn’t even take time to worry about Jack, or the possibility he might +fall in love with Pat. She saw them every evening, but said little and +saw less. + +She was full of a boiling bad temper; half-persuaded to go out on the +town with as many girls as she could find, sure that Mona would hear +about it; and half-toying with the idea of dating a man out of sheer +spite. It would be nice irony—almost worth the embarrassment and social +discomfort. + +She was mad enough at Mona, in fact, to be nice to Pete. After all, Mona +had stood him up too, long ago. He was still under her feet, and +although he had never made any indecent proposals, he managed to always +look as if he were just about to. Beebo was comforted to see that he +gave the same look, and likely the same impression, to every woman in +range of his sight, except his wife. + +One day at noon, she went deliberately to the table in the kitchen where +he was eating and pulled up a chair, while Marie served them. Pete +looked at her with his somber eyes and stopped munching for a minute. +She ordinarily managed her schedule so she could eat before or after he +did. Marie noticed the change, as she noticed everything, but whatever +she thought, she kept her own counsel. + +“How is it with Jack and Pat?” Marie said conversationally. + +Beebo straightened around. “How did you know about that?” she said, +surprised. + +“They was in earlier. Pat says he knows about bugs. Maybe he can stomp +out my roaches.... He is a nice boy? I never did trust blonds.” + +Beebo felt threatened, as if Marie had just announced the end of Beebo’s +life with Jack. “Sure. Very nice,” she said, and swallowed her stew. She +was conscious of Pete’s piercing gaze on her face. + +“So?” Marie said, nodding. “He got a friendly style.” + +Beebo recounted mentally her evenings in the past week. Since Jack and +Pat had met they had been together every night. Pat was in the apartment +all day—no matter what hour Beebo dropped in during her deliveries. What +about his job? And Jack? Jack Mann was a charming and persuasive man, +and the fact that his face was plain did not alter the fact that his +strong body was clean and pleasing, nor that his wits were quick and +could make you learn and laugh. + +“What’s the matter, Beebo? You don’t like rabbit?” + +She started at Pete’s voice and pulled away. His face was too close. But +she was glad for the diversion. He aimed a big spoon at her stew. “Maybe +you like a cheese sandwich?” + +“No, this is fine,” she said, forcing a social smile ... and then +wishing it were possible to retract it. Pete was examining her +curiously. + +She ate with concentration for several moments, still seeing Pat and +Jack in her mind’s eye. Pat liked Jack already. He was afraid of the +city, and he abominated his job. If he didn’t get back to it fast, he +wouldn’t have it any more, and she knew he didn’t give a damn—as long as +somebody fed and loved him. He was like a pet: a big lovable goddamn +poodle. She knew his liking for Jack would grow to fondness, if not +love. She could see it coming, especially at night when Jack let him +talk his heart out. Nobody listened or comforted more intelligently than +Jack. + +_And when they fall in love—then where do I go? Shack up with Mona and +her stable of strange men?_ she wondered. Jack’s remarks about Mona’s +past were haunting her days and ruining her nights. + +“Beebo,” said a quiet male voice into her ear. “You want the afternoon +off?” + +It was an indecent proposal, all right. His voice made it one. + +“No thanks,” she said frostily. + +“You look bad.” + +“I’m all right,” she snapped. + +“You could’ve fooled me,” he said. And when she didn’t answer, he went +on, unwilling to let the conversation die, “The way you was acting, I +thought you was sick.” + +“Maybe I am,” she said sardonically. “I’ve got the plague.” + +“The plague?” He stopped eating, his teeth poised around a bite, and +grinned. “Plague, like the rats bring?” + +“Yeah.” Beebo frowned at him. + +“I got a friend with an obsession about rats,” he said. “You seen her in +here once or twice. Mona. You know?” Beebo nodded, her eyes fixed on +him. It was the longest she had looked at him squarely. “She tells every +man she knows—and that’s plenty—he’s a rat. I asked her why once. Want +to know what she said?” He paused, building suspense, while Beebo held +her breath. “She says they’re all hairy ... filthy ... and stupid. And +they’ll sleep with anything ain’t already dead. You agree?” He grinned +at her. + +Beebo turned away. “I don’t know any _men_,” she said pointedly. + +Pete threw his hands out. “Is that nice to say?” he demanded. “Jack, I +can understand. All he got of man is his name. Your father, who knows? +Another fag?” Beebo got halfway out of her seat, but he protested +elaborately at once. When she simmered down, he added confidentially, +“But _me_.... Even Marie will admit that much, when she’s feeling +honest.” + +“Marie’s in a position to have an opinion,” Beebo said acidly. “But I +don’t think that’s _it_.” + +Pete folded his arms on the table and leaned on them, unoffended. “You +want to be in that position too, Beebo?” + +“Not for a million bucks,” she said, and drank down her milk in a +gesture of scorn. + +“I know a lot of good positions,” he said cozily, laughing at her. + +Beebo had enough sense not to get visibly angry; not to make a scene. It +wasn’t worth it and it would only tickle Pete. If it did no more than +embarrass the two women, he would be satisfied. + +She put her glass down. “What do you do with all your women, Pete?” she +asked him, making no effort to keep her voice from Marie. “Line them up +in half-hour shifts? It beats me how one mighty male can keep so many +women happy.” + +She picked up her plate and took it to the sink. + +Marie tossed her a grin. “You tell him, Beebo,” she said. “To hear him +talk, he’s sold out till next March.” + +“I’m selling nothing, bitch,” Pete told her sharply. “What I got, I give +away.” + +“Listen to Robin Hood,” Beebo cracked, and walked out of the kitchen +toward the truck with a load of Marie’s packaged foods. Pete followed +her. Marie turned and took a step toward them, thought better of it, and +returned to brood over the stove. Beebo could handle him. She didn’t +need any help. + +In the parking area, Pete took some of the load from Beebo and helped +her put it in the truck. “You think I brag a lot, Beebo?” he said. + +“I think you’re a creep,” she said. + +He waited a moment, chagrined but not about to show it. “That mean you +don’t like me?” he said finally. + +“Let’s drop it, Pete.” + +“You _do_ like me?” he pestered her. + +“What do you want, a friendship ring?” she demanded. + +Pete shrugged, staring at the low clouds; taking out a toothpick to +spear the food specks stuck in his white teeth. “Just an opinion,” he +said. + +“I told you. That’s Marie’s department. Now, if you’ll get out of my +way, I have some deliveries to make.” + +He turned to her. “Everybody got an opinion, Beebo. You worked for me +over two months now. So say it. Say the truth.” + +Beebo swallowed her aggravation. This was a game of wits, and the first +man to blow off, lost. She put on the same casual cloak Pete was +wearing. “You’re my boss. You keep clear of me, I keep clear of you, and +we get along.” + +“You make a big thing of keeping clear,” he said. “I smell bad, or +something?” + +“I wouldn’t know. I never get that close,” Beebo said. + +Something in his eyes made her swing up into the driver’s seat with +unusual speed. She started the motor, but he came around the truck and +pulled her door open. + +“You want to know where Mona hangs out?” he said. + +Beebo set her jaw. “Not from you,” she said tautly. + +Pete grinned. “Why not? My information is as good as the next guy’s.” + +It made Beebo wildly impatient. She gripped the steering wheel in hard +hands. “You through now, Pete?” she said, gunning the motor. + +But he stood there, angled into the truck doorway so that she couldn’t +move without bending some of his bones the wrong way. + +“It’s okay, Beebo, don’t get sore,” he said, and put a hand on her knee. +She picked it up and dropped it like a knot of worms, and he laughed. +“You know why I do that?” he asked. “’Cause you put on such a good show. +It really bugs you, don’t it? When I touch you.” + +“You get the hell out of my truck or I’ll roll you flat!” + +He chuckled again. “Okay,” he said. “I just got one piece of news for +you, butch. Listen: 121 McDonald Street—Paula Ash. Tonight. For those as +wants to locate Mona.” He pulled away from the truck, and Beebo backed +out in a rumble of dust and gravel. + + * * * * * + +It was nearly midnight before Beebo could bring herself to the McDonald +Street address. She had debated it tempestuously throughout the evening, +but without confiding in Jack. She could have gone to Mona’s apartment +instead, or called her and demanded an explanation. But something told +her Pete Pasquini had an interesting motive for sending her here. She +might get hurt; but she might also learn the truth, whatever that was, +about Mona. So she took the chance. + +She was in a don’t-give-a-damn mood, expecting to find Mona with a man +in the apartment, rented under an assumed name; or Mona making love to +Paula Ash, whoever the hell she was; or even—best joke of all—Mona +waiting for her alone, while Pete peeked through the keyhole. + +She stood at 121 McDonald Street in a light drizzle, partially sheltered +by an inset doorway, her hands shoved into the sleeves of her +windbreaker, and tried to make up her mind to call the jest. + +At last the chill drove her into the foyer to look at mailboxes. There +was a Paula Ash, all right. Apartment 103. Beebo took a deep breath and +pushed the buzzer. + +The answer came after so long a wait that Beebo was just leaving in +disgust, and had to turn back quickly to open the inner door. She had +scarcely entered the hall when a door opened ahead and a girl looked +out. + +“Yes?” she said. She appeared very sleepy, as if she had been in bed for +many hours already, even though it was not quite midnight. + +“May I come in?” Beebo said. She walked down the hall looking Miss Ash +over candidly. If Mona were going to stand her up, and Pete play jokes +on her, the least she could do was fall into the pit with as much +bravado as possible—and perhaps, a pretty girl in her arms. + +“I don’t know,” the girl said doubtfully, opening her eyes very wide as +if the stretch would keep the lids up a few minutes more. “Who are you?” + +“I’m Beebo.” Beebo looked at her, standing about three feet away in the +door, wondering if her name would register. The living room behind Paula +looked inviting after the gray rain outside. + +“Beebo Who?” The girl was beginning to wake up, staring at her visitor. + +Beebo smiled. “Didn’t Mona tell you?” + +The girl gasped and rubbed her eyes open earnestly. “Mona!” she said, +her voice husky. “Did Mona send you here?” + +“Not exactly,” Beebo said. “But I was made to think I’d find her here.” +The girl was so distressed that Beebo began to think Paula was the +victim of whatever joke was afoot, and not herself. She was moved to +apologize. “I’m sorry, Miss Ash,” she said. “There must have been a +mistake. I came expecting some sort of practical joke. I guess nobody +let either one of us in on it.” + +“Will you come in, please,” Paula Ash said unexpectedly. She was shy and +looked at Beebo’s shoulder when she spoke. + +“Thank you,” Beebo said, walking past her into the living room. “It’s +pretty cold outside.” She took off her jacket and handed it to Paula, +who hung it in her front closet. + +“Will you have coffee?” Paula said. + +“Thanks, that sounds good.” Beebo watched her curiously while the girl +busied herself in a small doorless kitchen. She had a delicately pretty +face, different from Mona’s slick good looks and more appealing to +Beebo. + +Paula ran an uneasy hand through her hair and bit her underlip as she +stood by her stove, waiting for the water to boil. “Would you tell me,” +she asked timidly, “just what Mona told you?” + +“I haven’t seen Mona for a week,” Beebo said. “A mutual acquaintance +told me she’d be here tonight.” + +“Well, your mutual acquaintance has a queer sense of humor,” Paula said. +“Mona and I were never good friends. And lately we’ve been pretty good +enemies.” + +“So that was it,” Beebo said. “That’s a hell of a note. I’m sorry, Miss +Ash, I—” + +“Paula, please. Oh, it wasn’t your fault,” Paula said. “Mona has done +crazier things than meeting her new lovers in my living room. I’ve known +her almost five years.” She came back with two cups of hot coffee. She +still seemed half-conscious, and when she stumbled a bit, Beebo got up +and rescued the coffee. + +Paula made a hissing sound of pain, pulling air between her teeth and +looking at her left thumb. + +“Did you scald it? Here. Under the cold water, quick.” Beebo left the +steaming cups on an end table and took Paula by the arm to the sink. She +turned on the tap full force and held Paula’s burn under the healing +stream. Paula tried to pull away after a few seconds but Beebo held her +securely. “Give it a good minute,” she said. + +And as they stood there, Beebo studied Paula at close range. She was a +lovely looking girl, even though she seemed non compos at the moment. +“Are you sick, Paula?” Beebo asked kindly. + +“No, no. Really. I’m just terribly tired. And then I took some sleeping +pills. Probably too many. I haven’t been sleeping well.” + +“If you’re so tired, why do you take sleeping pills?” Beebo asked. + +Paula’s dainty face contracted around a private pain. “The doctor gave +them to me. It’s harder to sleep when you’re too tired than when you’re +just tired.” She weaved a little, and Beebo put an arm around her. + +“Are you supposed to take so many they send you into a coma?” + +“No. But one pill doesn’t work. Three or four don’t work any more. I +just keep swallowing them till I drop off.” + +“That’s dangerous,” Beebo said. “One of these days you’ll drop too damn +far.” She turned the water off and reached for a paper towel, blotting +the injured hand gently. Suddenly, to her dismay, Paula pulled her hands +away and hid her face in them to cry. Beebo watched, frustrated with the +wish to touch and comfort her. + +Paula’s sobs were short and hard, and she pulled herself together with a +stout effort of will. All Beebo could see for a moment was the top of +her head, covered with marvelous rich red hair. And, when she looked up, +a trail of pale freckles across her cheeks and nose. Beebo handed her a +tissue from her shirt pocket, and Paula blew her nose and wiped her +eyes. + +She was a fragile, very feminine and small girl, wearing a pair of +outsized, plaid-print men’s pajamas. + +Beebo took a bit of sleeve between her fingers with a smile. “You always +wear these?” she asked. + +“Only lately. They aren’t mine. A former roommate left them behind when +she moved.” + +“Oh,” Beebo said. “I didn’t think they were your type.” + +“They’re not. They’re hers. And she’s gone, and this is all I have left +of her.” Paula shook out her smoldering curls and cleared her throat. +“I’m better now. Shall we have the coffee?” she said. It was obvious +that she had humiliated herself with the unplanned personal admissions, +and Beebo did her the courtesy of dropping the subject and joining her +in the living room. + +They drank the coffee in preoccupied silence a while. Beebo lighted a +cigarette and offered it to Paula, who refused. Finally she said +lightly, hoping to cheer Paula up, “Seems to me those pajamas are the +answer to your insomnia.” + +“What? How?” Paula looked at her as if suddenly remembering her presence +in a room where Paula had thought herself alone with a ghost. + +“Switch to nighties—your own—and get some rest,” Beebo said. “If I had +to wear a plaid like that, I’d have nightmares all night.” + +Paula smiled wanly. “I know,” she said. “They’re silly. I just needed +somebody else to say it, I guess. It’s hard to break away from a person +you’ve been close to. You hang on to the stupidest things.” + +“Well, her old sleep gear won’t bring her any closer,” Beebo said. She +pulled a sleeve out full length. “Did she play basketball?” Beebo said, +and they both laughed. + +“She wasn’t a shorty,” Paula admitted. Her laughter made her wonderfully +pretty. She stopped it suddenly to say, “That’s the first time I’ve +laughed in a month.” She gazed at Beebo with grateful astonishment. + +“Looks like I got here just in time,” Beebo said, not realizing till +after she spoke what a hoary come-on that was. Paula’s pink blush +clarified things for her. + +“I suppose you want to be getting home,” Paula said shyly, rising from +her chair. She was struck for the first time with Beebo’s size. +Stretched across the sofa, with her long legs thrusting out from under +the cocktail table, Beebo looked too big for a nine-by-twelve living +room. + +To her surprise, Beebo found she didn’t want to be getting home at all; +not even to run interference between Jack and Pat. And thinking of Pat +brought a flash of recognition to her mind. “You remind me of a friend,” +she told Paula, sitting up to scrutinize her. “A boy named Pat. A +lovable thing. Shy and just a little childish. In the nice way, I mean.” + +“I remind you of a _boy_?” Paula stared. + +“More of a child than a boy.” + +Paula didn’t know quite how to take it. “In the nice way?” + +“Yes. Trusting, affectionate. Still curious about people and life. It’s +a very—endearing quality.” + +“And you think _I’m_ like that?” Paula asked. + +“You obviously don’t,” Beebo chuckled. + +“I’ve been told I’m nasty and spoiled and selfish ... childish in the +bad way.” + +“Who told you that? Your friend with the plaid pajamas?” + +“Yes.” + +“If you were that way with her, she must have done something to deserve +it. You look like a natural-born angel to me,” Beebo said, surprising +them both with her frankness. + +“That’s a very nice thing for a stranger to say,” Paula said. “Thank +you.” + +“My pleasure,” Beebo said, blanketing her sudden confusion with an +offhand nod. + +There was a pensive pause while Beebo tried to remember the books she +had read about Lesbian love. It wasn’t always a question of sweeping +girls off their feet and carrying them away to bed, as Mona had made it +seem at first. How did you approach a sensitive, well-bred girl like +this one? Mow her down with kisses? Certainly not. + +Beebo began to wonder how to make herself welcome for the night. It +seemed far better than going back to Jack’s and stewing again until dawn +about her future. She would be leaving Jack and Pat alone together all +night for the first time, and yet it seemed less painful now than it had +before. It would suffice Beebo if she and Paula did nothing but sit and +talk all night. + +“I suppose somebody’s waiting for you?” Paula said. + +“Nobody.” + +Paula frowned at her. “Your roommate?” she asked. + +“My roommate is having an affair with a man,” Beebo said and shocked +Paula, until Beebo smiled at her and made her think she was kidding. + +“Well ... Mona?” she asked. + +“Mona could be on the moon for all I know. I thought I’d find her here.” + +“And now you’re disappointed,” Paula said diffidently. + +“Not at all. I’m relieved.” + +Paula drained her coffee cup and put it down with a nervous clink. “It +must be—awkward—if your roommate is really in love with somebody else,” +she said, in a voice so soft it was its own apology for speaking. + +“It is,” Beebo said. “I hate to go home. I’m too long to sleep on the +damn sofa.” + +“I’m afraid you’re too long for mine, too,” Paula said. There was a +pause. “But I could sleep on it and you could take my bed, if you will.” + +It was such a completely disarming—almost quaint—invitation, that Beebo +smiled at her, prickling with temptation. Paula’s bashfulness was enough +to make Beebo self-assured. + +“At least you’re not too long for the pajamas,” Paula said. + +“I can’t put you out like that,” Beebo said. + +Paula was flustered. She looked at her hands. “I don’t mind,” she said. +“It’s long and I’m short. We’re used to each other.” + +“You and the sofa?” Beebo said, and stood up. She went to the closet and +found her jacket. You can’t take somebody’s bed away just because you +told a lie about sleeping on your own sofa. She pulled the jacket on and +zipped it. + +“You’re a sweet girl, Paula,” she said, not looking at her. “Miss Plaid +Pajamas must be nuts. Find somebody who deserves you, and she’ll never +make you sleep alone on the sofa.” + +She started for the door but Paula, recovering suddenly, jumped up and +put a restraining hand on her arm. Beebo turned around, a shiver of +sharp excitement radiating through her. She was not—she was _never_—as +sure of herself as she seemed. + +“Beebo,” Paula said, whispering so that Beebo had to bend her head to +hear her. “I’d like you to stay. Make yourself welcome. Please.” + +Beebo was afraid to believe her ears. It had seemed almost easy, in +retrospect, to storm the Colophon. She was not unaware that Mona was +something of a catch, and when she went over the events of that night, +she was satisfied at the way she had acted. Nobody, not Mona herself, +knew how inexperienced and uncertain Beebo was, and nothing she had done +gave her away. Unless it was her exuberance when Mona kissed her. + +But now it seemed incredible that this exquisite stranger should reach +out for her from the middle of nowhere. “Paula,” she said, “I think +we’re both just lonely. I think it would be best if I go. You don’t want +to wake up tomorrow and hate yourself.” She was still hedging about the +ultimate test with a girl. + +“I _was_ lonely. I will be again if you go.” + +“Maybe you’d be better off lonely than sorry.” + +“Beebo, do I have to beg you?” Paula pleaded, her voice coming up +stronger with her emotion. + +Beebo reached for her in one instinctive motion, suddenly very warm +inside her jacket. “No, Paula, you don’t have to beg me to do anything. +Just ask me.” + +“I did. And you didn’t want to stay.” + +“I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t understand.” + +“I thought it was Mona. She can make herself so—so tempting.” + +“I can’t even remember what she looks like.” + +“Aren’t you in love with her?” + +Beebo’s hands, with a will of their own, closed around Paula’s warm slim +arms. “I met her last week for the first time. You can’t be in love with +someone you just met.” + +“You can’t?” Paula demurred cautiously, looking down at her big pajamas. + +“I never was,” Beebo said, feeling sweat break out on her forehead. She +pulled gently on Paula and was almost dismayed when Paula moved docilely +toward her. Beebo became feverishly aware that the plaid pajamas did not +conceal all of Paula Ash. The sweeping curve of her breasts held the +cotton top out far enough to brush Beebo’s chest with a feather touch. +Beebo felt it through the layers of her clothes with a tremor so hard +and real it tumbled eighteen years of daydreams out of her head. + +She held Paula at arm’s length a moment, looking at this lovely little +redheaded princess with a mixture of misgivings and want too powerful to +pretend away. Paula took her hands and held them with quivering +strength, returning Beebo’s gaze. Beebo saw her own doubts reflected in +Paula’s eyes. But she saw desire there, too; desire so big that it had +to be brave: it hadn’t any place to hide. + +Paula kissed Beebo’s hands with a quick press of her mouth that +electrified Beebo. She stood there while Paula kissed them over and over +again and a passionate frenzy mounted in them both. Paula’s lips, at +first so chaste, almost reverent, warmed against Beebo’s palms ... and +then her kitten-tongue slipped between Beebo’s fingers and over the +backs of her broad hands until those hands trembled perceptibly and +Paula stopped, clutching them to her face. + +Beebo reclaimed them, but only to caress Paula’s face, bringing it close +to her and seeing it with amazement. + +“I never guessed I’d feel love for the first time through my hands,” she +murmured. “Paula, Paula, I would have done this all wrong if you hadn’t +had the guts to start it for me. I would have manhandled you, I—” + +Paula stilled her with a finger over Beebo’s mouth. “Don’t talk now,” +she said. + +And Beebo, who had never done more than dream before, slipped her arms +around Paula and pulled her tight. It was a marvel the way their bodies +fitted together; the way Paula’s head tipped back naturally at so +beckoning an angle, and rested on Beebo’s arm; the way her eyes closed +and her lips parted and her hair scattered like garnet petals around her +flower-face. + +Beebo kissed her mouth and kissed her mouth again, holding her against +the wall with the pressure of her body. Paula submitted with a sort of +wistful abandonment. Everywhere Beebo touched this sweet girl, she found +thrilling surprises. And Paula, coming to life beneath Beebo’s searching +hands, found them with her. + +It was no news to Beebo that she was tall and strong and male-inclined. +But her voluptuous reaction to Paula shocked her speechless. Paula began +to undress her and Beebo felt herself half-fainting backwards on the +sofa into a whirlpool of sensual delight. The merest touch, the merest +flutter of a finger, and Beebo went under, hearing her own moans like +the whistle of a distant wind. Paula had only to undo a belt buckle or +pull off a shoe, and Beebo responded with a beautiful helpless fury of +desire. + +It was no longer a question of proceeding with caution, of “learning +how.” The whole night passed like an ecstatic dream, punctuated with a +few dead-asleep time-outs, when they were both too exhausted to move, +even to make themselves comfortable. + +Beebo had only a vague idea of what she was doing, beyond the +overwhelming fact that she was making ardent love to Paula. She seemed +to have no mind at all, nor need of one. She was aware only that Paula +was beautiful, she was gay, she was warmly loving, and she was there in +Beebo’s arms: fragrant and soft and auburn-topped as a bouquet of tiger +lilies. + +Beebo couldn’t let her go. And when fatigue forced her to stop she would +pull Paula close and stroke her, her heavy breath stirring Paula’s +glowing hair, and think about all the girls she had wanted and been +denied. She was making up, this night, for every last one of them. + +Paula whispered, “Do you still believe you can’t love someone you just +met?” + +“I don’t know what I believe any more.” + +And Paula said, “I love you, Beebo. Do you believe that?” + +Beebo lifted Paula’s fine face and covered it with kisses while Paula +kept repeating, “I love you, I love you,” until the words—the unadorned +words—brought Beebo crashing to a climax, rolling over on Paula, +embracing her with those long strong legs. + +She felt Paula sobbing in the early dawn and raised up on an elbow to +look at her. “Darling, did I hurt you?” she asked anxiously, not +stopping to think that she had never called a girl “darling” before, +either. + +“No,” Paula said. “It’s just—I’ve been so unhappy, so confused. I +thought the world had ended a month ago, and tonight it’s just +beginning. It’s brand new. I’m so happy it scares me.” + +Beebo held her tenderly and brushed the tears off her cheeks. Paula put +her head in the crook of Beebo’s arm and gazed at her. “You must have +been born making love, Beebo.” + +“How do you know?” Beebo had no intention of setting the record straight +just then. + +“I don’t, really. It’s just that I never reacted to anybody the way I +have to you. I never did this with anybody before.” + +“Never made love?” Beebo said, surprised almost into laughter. _The +blind leading the blind_, she thought. + +“No, I’ve made love before,” Paula said thoughtfully. “With men, too. +It’s just that I never.... You’ll think I’m making this up, but it’s the +truth. I never—oh, God help me, I’m frigid. I mean, I was, till +tonight.” + +Beebo lay there in the dark, holding her, torn between the wish to +accept it and the suspicion that she was fibbing. + +“You don’t believe me,” Paula said resignedly. “I shouldn’t have told +you. It’s enough that it happened.” + +Beebo petted her, smoothing her hair and letting her hands glide over +Paula’s silky body. “Okay, you never came before,” she said. “Now I’ll +tell you a fish story. I never made love before.” + +Paula laughed good-naturedly. “All right, we’re even,” she said. “That’s +a real whopper. Mine was the truth.” + +Beebo laughed with her, and it didn’t matter any more whether she had +been lied to or not. It was the truth in spirit, and only Paula knew if +it was the truth in fact. Her attraction to Beebo was so real that it +took shape in the night, surrounding her like the aura of her perfume. +Beebo kissed her while she was still laughing. “You have such a mouth, +Paula. Such a mouth....” + +“Does it please you?” + +“You please me. All of you,” Beebo said, and she meant it. Paula was +wholly feminine, soft and submissive. She was finely constructed, +looking somehow as breakable, as valuable—and as durable—as Limoges +china. Beebo wanted to protect her, accomplish things for her. + +She kept touching her admiringly. “You’re so tiny,” she said. “I’m going +to feed you lasagna and put some meat on your bones.” + +“Will you buy me a new wardrobe when I get too fat for my old one?” + +“I’ll buy you anything. Mink coats. Meals at the Ritz. New York City,” +Beebo said. + +“All of it?” + +“Just the good parts.” + +Paula clutched at her suddenly, first laughing, then trembling. “Beebo, +don’t leave me,” she said. “I do love you.” She seemed dumbfounded. “It +frightens me, it makes me believe all over again in my childhood dreams. +Did you ever feel like that?” + +“Only on the bad days. My childhood wasn’t that pretty,” Beebo said. + +“When are the bad days?” + +“Never any more. Not with Paula around.” + + * * * * * + +They got up at noon the next day, and it was some time before Beebo +could think rationally about her job. She should call Marie, she should +call Jack and tell him where she was. But it was impossible to get out +of the bed while Paula was in it. And every time Paula sat up, Beebo +pulled her down. + +“Let me make breakfast,” Paula smiled, and after wrestling a moment, +pulled free and scampered halfway across the bedroom, pulling a sheet +after her. She stood with her dazzling naked back, delicately sugared +with freckles, to Beebo, who admired it in infatuated silence. + +Paula ruffled through her closet looking for a negligee until Beebo +said, “Paula, are you in love with me or that sheet?” + +“I don’t want you to see me,” Paula confessed. “You said I was too +thin.” + +“I said ‘tiny.’ And beautiful. Honey, I felt you all over; I know you +with my hands. Would it be so awful if I know you with my eyes, too?” +When Paula hesitated, Beebo threw the covers off and stood by the bed. + +Paula studied her in silence. “You’re wonderful,” she breathed at last. + +“I’m homely,” Beebo answered. “But I’m not ashamed of it.” + +“You are many things, Beebo, but homely isn’t one of them,” Paula +declared. She faced Beebo sheet-first, like a highborn Roman girl in her +wedding chiton. “How many girls have admired you like this?” + +“Never a one,” Beebo said. She crossed the room toward Paula and saw her +flinch. “Are you afraid of me?” she said, surprised. + +“A little.” + +“No, Paula.” Beebo reached her, touching her with gentle hands. “I’d +never hurt you. Don’t you know that?” + +“Not with your hands, maybe,” Paula said, bending her graceful neck to +kiss one. “But I’m so in love ... it would take so little. And scores of +other girls must want you, Beebo. It would hurt me awfully if you ever +wanted _them_.” + +“What girls?” Beebo scoffed. + +“Well, for a starter—Mona.” + +“Paula, I kissed Mona twice. She stood me up twice. That’s the end of +that,” Beebo said flatly. Abruptly, she pulled Paula’s sheet off and +gazed delightedly on the fresh fair curves beneath. And before Paula had +time to blush, Beebo picked her up, grateful at last for the uncomely +strength in her arms, and placed her on the bed. + +“Beebo,” Paula whispered, her arms locked tightly around Beebo’s neck. +“How old are you?” + +Beebo couldn’t blurt idiotically, “Eighteen.” Instead she asked, “How +old do I look?” + +“Like a college kid,” Paula sighed. “Which makes me older than you. I’m +twenty-five, Beebo.” + +“An ancient ruin.” Beebo kissed her nonchalantly, but she was secretly +surprised. Nonetheless it pleased her to have won an older girl. + +They made love again, lazily now. There was no wild rush, no fear on +Beebo’s part that it would hurt and disillusion her. They rolled in +caresses like millionaires in blue chips ... ran their fingers over each +other, and kissed and tickled and laughed and blew in each other’s ears. + +And all the while Paula kept repeating, with the transparent affection +that is the crown of femininity, “I love you, Beebo. I love you so +much.” + +Beebo couldn’t answer. She couldn’t have been happier, or hotter, or +more rapturously charmed with the girl. She could hardly believe she had +found one so lovely, so generous, so responsive, so single. + +But there was a lot of roaming restless curiosity in Beebo, and while +she was willing and eager to make love to and romanticize Paula, she was +not willing to fall in love with her. + +It wasn’t Paula’s fault, though Paula, with a woman’s quick awareness of +emotions, sensed the situation. It was just that Beebo wasn’t ready for +it. Paula had come too early in Beebo’s life. And that fact alone made +Paula realize how young Beebo must be. + +Beebo had caught Paula in a vulnerable state, on the rebound from an +unhappy love affair with the girl in the plaid pajamas. But it was the +culmination of a lot of bad affairs with both sexes that had left Paula +drained and skeptical; hopeless about her future and unable to cope with +her present. She had nearly taken the whole bottle of sleeping pills the +night before, instead of the four that knocked her out. + +Beebo was too good to be true, too young to know herself, too masculine +to be faithful. But how strong she was, how sensual and sure; in some +ways, wise beyond her years with that hard-won maturity Jack had +perceived months before. + +Paula tried to tell herself, as she lay in Beebo’s embrace, that she had +nothing more than a hot crush that would end as suddenly as it began, +and make her laugh to think she had called it love. She wanted very much +to believe it, because it would have spared her the pain of losing Beebo +Brinker to another girl—a pain she was in no condition to take safely +then. + + * * * * * + +They ate together in Paula’s kitchen, and Paula obligingly sat on +Beebo’s lap and let Beebo feed her. They were enchanted with each other. +It was the kind of day everybody ought to have once in a while; if you +knew it was coming, you could bear the boredom and solitude in the +interim. + +Paula told Beebo about her young years in Washington, D.C., and the +shock that accompanied her suspicions that she was a Lesbian. Because it +was Paula speaking, and because Beebo had never talked heart-to-heart +with another Lesbian, the story seemed remarkable. She held Paula on her +knees, answering with sympathy and affection, troubled and touched by it +... and stirred by the warmth of Paula’s close, firm bottom. + + * * * * * + +They were startled when the phone cut in on them late in the afternoon. + +Paula answered it over Beebo’s protests. “Hello?” she said, and as she +listened her eyes went to Beebo in surprise. Finally she held out the +receiver. “It’s for you,” she said. “Jack Mann.” + +Beebo stood up, concerned. “How did he know I was here?” + +“You’re his roommate, he says. Roommates ought to keep track of each +other,” Paula said, teasing but with just a trace of chill in her voice. +“Why didn’t you tell me you were straight, Beebo?” + +Beebo took the phone with a comical grimace. “You would have guessed, +anyway,” she said. “Hey—do you know Jack?” + +“Everybody knows Jack,” said Paula. + +Into the receiver Beebo said, “Jackson?” + +“I hear you’ve been out stupefying the female population of Greenwich +Village,” Jack said. “You must have something. Paula’s usually a deep +freeze.” + +“How did you know I was here?” Beebo said. + +“My spies are everywhere. And a damn good thing, too. I would have given +you up for dead. Listen, pal, I just got an s.o.s. from Marie. There’s a +very large customer on Park Avenue who wants a very large pizza right +now. Marie is whipping it up and Beebo will whip it over to said +customer.” + +“Park Avenue is Pete’s territory,” Beebo said. “He won’t like it.” + +“He’s out somewhere, as usual. Marie can’t find him and besides, she’s +afraid to look.” + +“You want me to leave now?” Disappointment growled in her voice. + +“I know Paula, honey; she’s a good girl. If she likes you enough to +sleep with you, she likes you enough to wait for you.” + +“You mean you knew this beautiful girl all along and didn’t tell me +about her?” Beebo said, grinning at Paula. + +“Well, hell, you waited two months to tell me you _wanted_ one. Come on, +Marie’s in a hurry. Show her what you’re made of.” + +“I’m made of sugar and spice, like the rest of the girls,” Beebo said +sourly. “It doesn’t mix with cheese and anchovies.” + +“Get your ass over there, Beebo,” Jack said. “This order goes to Venus +Bogardus.” + +The name rang in Beebo’s head. “The actress?” she said, frowning. “She’s +not one of our customers.” + +“She is now.” + +“But Jack, my God. Venus Bogardus!” + +“The original. The girl with the bosom that just won’t stop. Can you +take it?” + +“It’s worth it just for a look,” Beebo grinned. “Okay, call Marie and +tell her I’m coming. And Jack—I know I should have called you. I’m +sorry.” + +Beebo hung up and walked to Paula, expecting to embrace her and explain. +But Paula was quite pale. “What’s all this about Pete and Marie? Do you +mean the Pasquinis?” + +“Yes. I work for them. Marie wants me to deliver a pizza to—” + +“—to Venus Bogardus. I heard. Beebo, why didn’t you tell me about Pete?” + +“There’s nothing to tell,” Beebo said, mystified. “Honey, are you mad at +me? Why?” + +“Pete and Mona are thick as thieves. What Mona does, Pete does; what +Mona thinks, Pete thinks—unless they’re quarreling. If they don’t like +you, they’d as soon exterminate you. They wouldn’t cut you down if you +were hanging.” + +Beebo laughed a little at this explosion. “I know you don’t like Mona, +honey. But Pete’s just a twerp. He’s the one who sent me over here last +night. I’ll admit it wasn’t exactly ethical—” + +“Then Mona knows you’re here. How charming,” Paula said sourly. + +“So what’s Mona, the Wicked Witch?” Paula scowled and Beebo said, “Okay, +Pete’s a slob; and my opinion of Mona is slipping fast. But I can’t be +mad at anybody who sent me to you, Paula, no matter what their motives +were.” + +“Now they’ll do everything to take you away from me,” Paula said, +looking fearfully at Beebo. + +“There’s no way they could do that, sweetheart,” Beebo said, pulling +Paula down beside her on the bed. “Paula, I’ll be back in an hour. I +won’t do anything but deliver the pizza.” + +Paula clung to her. “Promise,” she said. “And if Milady Bogardus walks +into the room, you have to shut your eyes and run.” + +“At the same time?” + +“Yes.” + +“You want me to break my neck?” Beebo laughed. + +“Better your neck than my heart,” Paula whispered. + +At the door Beebo took Paula’s hands and kissed them the way Paula had +first kissed hers. “I never liked Venus Bogardus,” she said. “I read +somewhere that her curves are built into her clothes. She’s about as +sexy as a hatrack under the finery—and a cool forty-eight years old.” + +“Come back,” Paula said seriously. “That’s all I ask.” + +They parted and Beebo left the building with a soaring pride and +satisfaction that seemed to lift her clear of the pavement. + + * * * * * + +Marie Pasquini was waiting in the shop when Beebo arrived. She had just +argued with her mother-in-law and it made her visage long and dark. + +“Thank God, a happy face,” she said when she saw Beebo. + +“Maybe we ought to find Pete, Marie,” Beebo said. “He considers Park his +street.” + +“_His_ street!” Marie spat. “It’s too good for him. An alley full of +donkey-do is too good for him.” + +“Too bad for you there ain’t no such alleys handy,” said Pete’s voice +from the front of the shop, approaching the kitchen. “You’d be right at +home in one. Like the one where I found you in Bordeaux.” He appeared in +the kitchen doorway, making Beebo wonder how long he had been lurking +there. Unaccountably, he gave her a case of gooseflesh. + +“Here he comes,” said Marie to Beebo. “Captain Marvel. Okay, Captain, +here’s an order. You want to deliver?” + +“That depends on Beebo,” Pete said, meandering unsteadily toward her. +“Where were you today, butch? I had to make all the deliveries myself.” +His grin made her want to hit him. + +“I was indisposed,” she said. + +“Indisposed,” he mimicked in a fussy voice. “Well, ain’t that a shame. I +understand Paula Ash was indisposed today, too.” His breath smelled of +zinfandel. + +Beebo stared at him with cold-eyed loathing and then stalked toward the +back door. + +“Wait a minute!” Pete called. + +“Not for you,” Beebo said. + +“Beebo!” It was Marie’s voice this time. “He’s full of dry red. He can’t +drive. Please, I don’t want to lose Venus Bogardus. Nor the truck, +neither,” she added, with a significant glance at Pete. + +At the sound of that famous name, Pete burst into winy laughter. “Go on, +Beebo, go on. Maybe she’ll fall for you, too,” he said. “How you gonna +keep two of ’em happy at the same time? You want a few lessons?” + +Beebo took the wrapped pizza from Marie and stormed out of the kitchen. +She could hear the opening blast of a real wingding behind her. + + * * * * * + +Beebo drove through a light rain that was quickly slicking down the city +streets. It was Midwestern weather. Her father’s face crossed her mind, +obscuring some of her revulsion against Pete. _I wonder where Dad thinks +I am now?_ she mused despondently. + +She punished herself by picturing her father: a tall solid man, with the +lines of worry and weather on his face, delivering a foal to its +snorting, laboring mother; stooping with the burdens of alcohol and +anxiety over his strange young daughter. + +Beebo felt a surge of guilty love for him as she neared the address +Marie had given her. She almost drove past. It was a big chilly building +that looked loftily down on the summer sprinkle. + +Beebo went up on the service elevator, her head full of whirling images: +Paula, of the glorious red hair and sweet mouth. The big kindly father +whose love had made her strong and himself weak. The people who had +lately come to matter in her life in the city. + +She knocked on the back door, becoming aware as she did so of strident +voices within: a woman’s, bright and soprano with anger; a boy’s +breaking with resentment; another woman, refereeing timidly for the +first two. + +“All right, all right, answer the goddamn door!” cried the soprano. + +“Mother, do you have to swear like a whore?” the boy cried. “In front of +delivery boys?” + +“What do you care what I do with delivery boys, darling?” + +Beebo recognized the celebrated voice, just as the door opened. “Are you +the pizza?” asked a gray dumpling of a woman. + +“No, but I have one with me,” Beebo grinned. Her voice stilled the +argument momentarily. “Five bucks,” Beebo told the Dumpling, who wore a +white uniform like a nurse, or nanny. Beebo waited for the money, +suddenly full of springy laughter that might go off any second like a +string of firecrackers. + +“Five bucks?” said Venus Bogardus. “I haven’t got a damn dime.” + +With a thrill of recognition, Beebo suddenly saw her. She was wearing a +scarlet, silk-jersey dress. When she moved, she proved there was nothing +beneath it. The hatrack story lay down and died. But Beebo was still so +full of Paula that the sight of Venus Bogardus was little more than an +entertainment. + +Toby, the boy, turned his pockets inside-out. “I gave you all my money +yesterday,” he said, glum and embarrassed. To Beebo he said, “I’m +sorry,” with the pathetic air of a child who is struggling to assume the +responsibilities of dissipated parents. He was a good-looking boy; in +his early teens, Beebo guessed, and finding life with a movie-star +mother a stormy combination of high excitement and humiliation. He was +not the type to take it lightly. + +“Toby, don’t you have something in your piggy bank, dear?” Venus +persisted, aware of Beebo now. + +“You threw my piggy bank down the incinerator shaft,” he mumbled. + +“I did?” She blinked at him with incredible blue eyes, encircled by long +black lashes. + +“A year ago,” Toby said wearily. + +“God, that was careless. Was there anything in it?” Venus said. + +“Two-fifty in pennies. I was saving up for a catcher’s mitt.” + +“Well, that wouldn’t be enough anyway. For the pizza, I mean.” + +“Excuse me—why don’t you charge it?” Beebo said. She was somewhat +abashed to have walked in on a Love Queen in the midst of a common +little argument. + +“Do you think they’d let me?” Venus said, turning to Beebo at last, her +voice melting off her tongue like buckwheat honey. Toby slammed out of +the kitchen in utter disgust. + +“I think so,” Beebo said, smiling. + +Venus came to take the pizza from her, opening the container for a +taste. “Somebody said it was ‘peerless pasta.’ Is it _that_ bad?” + +“It’s good.” + +Venus put it on the breakfast table and tore off a bite. “You’re right,” +she said. “Want some?” + +“No thanks,” Beebo said, staring at her. Perhaps now was the time to +back out and run, as Paula suggested. + +“Don’t be shy,” Venus said. “Toby, come back and eat, dear,” she called +through the kitchen door. “We have a guest.” Toby shuffled in while +Venus explained to Beebo, still hesitating at the back door, “No cook +tonight. She just quit for the hundredth time. Bring some plates, Mrs. +Sack. I’ll get the milk for these growing children.” + +“Miss Bogardus, I can’t possibly stay; I—” Beebo said, but Venus +interrupted her, as if she hadn’t heard her, with a stream of cordial +inanities. + +Toby’s face colored. “Mother, will you listen?” he said in an angry +hiss. “She doesn’t _want_ to stay.” + +“I know, darling. Now shut up and sit down, all of you.” + +They did. It seemed to be the thing to do. But Beebo had a tingling +feeling that the whole building would fold under her as soon as she +touched down on the seat. + +Venus opened the refrigerator and a loud smell came out. “God, look at +the mess!” she cried. “I’ll bet that bitch hasn’t cleaned it for weeks.” + +“If you’d come home long enough to look at it once in a while, she would +have,” Toby said. + +“Darling, I look at it every day, when I put the champagne in to cool.” + +She joined them, passing the milk around, and badgered Beebo to eat more +than Beebo wanted. Toby couldn’t stand it. + +“Leave her alone, Mother!” he said, rising from his seat. + +“Don’t behave like a nervous girl, Toby,” Venus reproved him breezily. + +“I’m not a girl,” he said in real anguish. + +“Of course not, dear. Boys wear pants and girls wear skirts. That’s how +I’ve always known you were a boy.” + +Beebo became abruptly conscious of her chino slacks and found it hard to +keep eating naturally. + +“I’m sorry,” Toby said again to Beebo. “My mother’s a little cracked. It +comes from getting her own way all the time.” + +“God, how dreadful to be fourteen,” Venus said, gazing at her son +pityingly. “I don’t know how I lived through it myself.” She ate for a +minute quietly while Beebo plotted an escape. “I’ll have to tell Leo +about this; it’s really marvelous,” Venus said, cutting another bite. + +“Leo’s her husband,” Toby said, making a face. + +“You’d think they loathed each other,” Venus said, glancing at Beebo. +“Actually, Toby gets along better with Leo than with any of the others.” + +“It’s a good thing _I_ get along with him, because _you_ sure don’t,” +Toby flared, to the accompaniment of horrified shushings from Mrs. Sack. + +“One more crack like that and you can leave the table,” Venus said +sharply. “God! What do you do with children that age?” + +“I don’t know. What do they do with you?” Beebo said. + +Toby turned to her with an amazed grin. + +“And how old are _you_, darling?” Venus asked Beebo, her eyes shining +through their black fringe like hard chips of sapphire. + +“Fourteen,” Beebo said, and evoked a chuckle of relief from Toby. Beebo +smiled at him, and suddenly they were in league; two friendly +conspirators subverting Venus’s authority. + +“I’d have said twelve, to judge from your table manners,” Venus cooed. + +And unruffled, she continued eating, giving Beebo a chance to study her +surreptitiously. Her face had been called the most perfect in the world +when she was a starlet twenty years before. And still she was very +lovely, even without make-up on her face. The lines about her eyes and +mouth were faint and fine. You had to look for them, and somehow they +made her beauty the more poignant, emphasizing as they did the +perishability of human loveliness. She was probably in her late +thirties, Beebo guessed. + +“Tell me, darling,” Venus said unexpectedly, startling Beebo. “Do you +live in town somewhere with your mommy and daddy? I mean, surely a +fourteen-year-old child isn’t out delivering pizzas for a living.” + +“I live in town,” Beebo said. “My father lives back in Wisconsin.” + +“How primitive,” Venus said, with a smile that told Beebo she was aware +of her own oversophisticated nonsense. She made it rather charming. +“Just one father?” she said. “Toby has six.” + +“That must be a record,” Beebo said quietly, trying to focus on her +food. + +“It’s Mother’s record, not mine,” Toby said. “As far as I’m concerned, +you can throw all six in the East River. All but Leo, anyway.” + +“Darling!” his mother cried, more amused this time than angry, perhaps +because she shared his view. “After all the lovely presents they’ve +given you, too.” + +Beebo watched her curiously. Venus was not dense or callow. But her +glamour and her fortune obviously hadn’t spared her the problems of +raising a pubescent boy. Most mothers approached their kids with a +mixture of love, common-sense, and frazzled tempers. Venus approached +hers with all the gorgeous razzle-dazzle, passion, and impatience that +made obedient slaves of the older men in her life. + +Toby, at fourteen, was supposed to react with the fascination of an +adult male three times his age for a beautiful and tempestuous woman. + +_If he ever does, Venus will get the shock of her life_, Beebo thought +with amusement. + +Instead, of course, Toby lashed out at her in frightened confusion. He +loved her very much, but he was afraid and overawed, and bitter about +the life she made him lead. + +He wanted a mother comfortably middle-aged and unpretentious, like other +people’s mothers. Instead, he had what other people thought they wanted: +a glittering courtesan who couldn’t kiss him at night for fear of +smudging her mouth, who took him on vacation trips with her lovers while +her husband—and Toby’s friend, Leo—stayed behind in Hollywood. + +Beebo sensed much of this in the pointed wordplay between mother and +son. Their mutual love stood aside, forlorn and unexpressed, while they +took out their grievances against one another. + +Beebo stood up to leave as soon as she decently could. + +“Heavens, you’re not going!” Venus protested. + +“I have a heavy date,” Beebo smiled. “Thanks very much, Miss Bogardus.” + +“You’re welcome. Who’s the lucky boy?” + +Beebo frowned uncomprehendingly at first, till she realized Venus meant +her date. “Oh,” she said, humiliated to know she was blushing. “Just an +old friend.” + +“Bring him around.” + +Beebo began to stammer excuses and Toby came to her rescue. “Let her go, +Mom,” he said, ashamed of Venus, as usual. He liked Beebo for taking his +side; for making him laugh and getting one up on his mother. And it +galled him to see Venus tease her. He was not too young to see how +uncomfortable Beebo was. When Venus turned to him with a dangerous +smile, he said, “I just wish you’d act like a mother now and then.” + +“Why, I act like a mother twenty-four hours a day,” she said innocently. +“I _am_ a mother. There sits the proof, eating his pizza like an +absolute boor.” She turned elegantly to Beebo, who had just noticed her +dainty bare feet under the table. “All right, darling, go. But do come +again some time,” Venus said. + +Beebo smiled her thanks and got as far as the door before Venus called +her again. Her voice, even though Beebo half expected it, sent a wave of +shivers down her back. + +“I forgot to ask,” Venus said. “What’s your name? I mean, so we’ll know +when we order peerless pasta again.” + +Toby had had it. Venus was practically flirting with Beebo. He clambered +over Mrs. Sack and started out of the kitchen. Venus turned in her seat +and said, “Damn it, Toby, you come back here!” Her eyes sparkled. + +“What for?” he said blackly. + +“To finish your dinner.” + +“I’ve lost my appetite, Mother.” He glanced at Beebo and added, “I +apologize for my mother. I hope you don’t have a rotten impression of +us.” + +“Not at all,” Beebo said, moved by his distress, his anxious efforts to +protect her opinion of them. She wondered if he had any friends at all +up here in his gilded cage. A Manhattan apartment isn’t the ideal place +to raise a spirited boy. + +Mrs. Sack rose to her feet clucking, but Venus waved her down. “Oh, the +hell with him, Mrs. Sack,” she said. “He’ll be right back.... He’s a +lovely boy,” she told Beebo. “He’ll outgrow this rebellious stuff in +another year or so.” She spoke confidently but Beebo knew it was a +cover-up for deep concern. “Now—what did you say your name was?” + +Beebo answered in a low voice, “Beebo Brinker.” + +“You’re kidding,” said Venus. + +“No.” Beebo smiled. + +“Lord, that’s even worse than mine. Did your press agent dream it up? Or +don’t you delivery boys—excuse me, girls—have press agents?” + +“I have dozens, but they’re all starving,” Beebo said. + +“Mercy, we’ll have to find you a job,” Venus said. “Are you literate, by +any chance?” + +“No, I’m perfectly normal,” Beebo said. She had learned not to get mad +at the wild assortment of jibes people tossed at her. It was better to +catch and toss back than to fall and lie as if dead; make a sideshow of +your strangeness. + +Venus put her head back and laughed, and Beebo felt suddenly very warm +and nervous, looking at her. From across the room her face looked +flawless. “Poor Beebo,” Venus said, enjoying the name. “Came all the way +up here in the rain to bring me a pizza, and I didn’t even pay her for +it.” + +“You fed me part of it,” Beebo said. + +“Well, I’ll order spaghetti next time. When the sun is shining and I +have a few nickels in my jeans,” Venus promised. “I suppose you’re in a +mighty rush to get home to your heavy date?” + +“If you don’t mind,” Beebo said politely. + +“Of course I mind, but go anyway. I’ll see you on spaghetti day,” Venus +smiled, and Beebo slipped out the back door with her spine still +prickling. + + * * * * * + +Beebo wondered, all the way downtown in the truck, what sort of kicks +Venus got out of inviting a strange delivery girl in for an unpaid-for +dinner. _She had a bad day and I amused her_, Beebo thought. _The cook +cut out, Toby bugged her, and all six husbands are out of town._ + +She approached Pasquini’s wishing she could leave the truck somewhere +else for the night, just to avoid seeing Pete. But he was out of sight, +if not off the premises, and she parked and left without incident. + +Under a streetlight she looked at her watch. She had been away three +hours instead of one and she was anxious about the trusting girl she had +left behind. She ran most of the way to Paula’s place. + +It surprised her when Paula left her waiting in the entry almost four +minutes before she buzzed to open the door. + +No one was in the living room when Beebo came in. She called, feeling +her heart quicken with alarm. + +“Paula, where are you? Are you all right?” + +“In here.” Paula’s voice was faint and Beebo rushed into the bathroom to +find her, standing quiet and sad in front of the mirror. A bottle full +of pills, with the cap off, rested on the bowl. Paula had an empty glass +in her hand. + +Beebo looked at her face in the mirror and then saw the bottle. + +“Sleeping pills?” she said, picking it up. Her eyes went dark and she +grabbed Paula by the shoulders. “You didn’t!” she said. “Good God, +Paula!” + +“No, I didn’t,” Paula murmured. “The bottle’s still full.” + +Beebo emptied it into the toilet and flushed the pills away. She turned +to Paula, trying to comfort her, but Paula averted her face and broke +into tears. She flung her arms around Beebo. “Where have you _been_? +You’ve been gone for hours,” she wept. + +“She wanted me to eat the damn pizza with them,” Beebo said clumsily. +“Come on, honey, lie down on the bed.” She pulled a protesting and +white-faced Paula toward the bedroom. “What’s the matter?” Beebo said as +Paula’s resistance stiffened. + +“I think she’s afraid of a scene,” came a cool, unexpected voice. Beebo +whirled and saw Mona Petry sitting on Paula’s bed, smoking calmly. “But +she needn’t worry. Will you please tell her I don’t plan to stay more +than a minute? I tried to tell her myself, but we don’t seem to speak +the same language.” + +Beebo looked back at Paula, who had covered her mouth and cheeks with +tight-pressed hands while tears spilled out of her eyes. Beebo stood +between the two jealous girls; one frightened and hurt, the other +pleased to have her so. It was up to Beebo to restore peace. + +Beebo walked into the bedroom, leaving Paula in the hall behind her. +“All right, Mona, I’m sorry,” she said briefly. “If you’re angry about +it, remember you’re the one who stood me up.” Her voice was sharper than +she intended. She wanted to get it over with. + +“I didn’t stand you up at all, Beebo,” Mona said. “I told you to call in +one hour. If you had, we could have spent the night together. Instead, +you walked out and disappeared.” + +“I called too soon,” Beebo said, recalling the man’s voice through +Mona’s door. + +“Not on the phone,” Mona said, and through her disdain, Beebo could see +the flash of real anger. “Do you mean you eavesdropped?” + +“I didn’t have to, Mona. I went in to use the phone in the front hall, +and you were throwing things and arguing with some guy. So I left. I +just figured you had a taste for men that night.” + +“Did you really?” Mona said acidulously. “After the way I acted with +you? Knowing that any man in my apartment must be an uninvited guest?” + +“An uninvited guest doesn’t get in with his own key,” Beebo shot back. +“I didn’t like the idea of sharing you with a man, Mona.” + +“I fought with the man,” Mona said, standing up. “I wouldn’t have fought +with you, ever. Now, it can’t be helped.” She crushed her cigarette on +the floor under her shoe as a gesture of contempt for Paula’s tidy +bedroom, and smiled. “Or did you think we could all be buddies? We +three?” + +Beebo colored up with anger. “Three’s a crowd, Mona. You make such a +thing of it. Why didn’t you call _me_? I waited for days. I wanted you +to call.” + +“Wanted. Past tense,” Mona said, looking at Paula. “Besides, Beebo, I +was wronged, not you. The least you could have done was let me explain. +Now you don’t give a damn. Well, just know that I don’t either. I +wouldn’t dream of taking you away from Paula. She needs somebody to +count the sleeping pills for her.” She hooked her sweater on her index +finger, and swung it over her shoulder with an air of satisfaction. +Paula was distracted and Beebo was exasperated with her. This was +Trouble and it exhilarated her. + +“Is that what you came here to say?” Beebo demanded. + +“That’s most of it,” Mona said. “It’s only fair to warn you, though ... +I may drop some more bricks before I’m through. You turn such a nice +color when you’re burned, Beebo.” She sauntered deliberately through the +hall, past Paula, who shrank from her, and to the front door, where she +turned for one last shot. + +Beebo had followed her and stood in the middle of the living room with +her arms folded over her chest, the way she faced Pete when he crowded +her. + +Mona looked her over and then blew a poisonous kiss toward Paula. “I +hope you two will be happy,” she said. “It’s obviously one of those +marriages made in hell.” She pulled the door shut very slowly till Beebo +reached over and gave it a hard shove to. + +Mona thumped against it on the outside, laughing at the show of temper. + + * * * * * + +Beebo turned to Paula, mystified. “What in hell was all that about?” she +said. + +Paula was leaning against the wall, still pale and quite exhausted. +“You’ve heard of jealousy,” she said tiredly. + +“She had something more than that on her mind,” Beebo said. “She looked +like she wanted blood. You can be jealous without being plain mean.” + +“Mona can’t. That’s how she makes her life interesting. It’s funny. You +think of a _man_ being sadistic, coldhearted, capable of evil just for +kicks. But when a woman’s that way, it shocks you. Mona just—enjoys it, +I guess.” + +“Enjoys tormenting people?” Beebo said. She had known people like that +back in Juniper Hill, but it was hard to believe about someone you had +so recently admired. + +Paula nodded. “I think she came here tonight because she’s mad at Pete +and she can’t find him to give him hell. Pete sent you over to bug Mona, +and it worked. And you and I went right along with his game and fell for +each other. Mona likes to think she’s a femme fatale, and I guess to +Pete, she is. She jilted him once and he never got over it. She’s always +telling me I’m a ‘goddamn milkmaid’ and nobody wants a milkmaid these +days. She must have really wanted you, Beebo, or she wouldn’t have been +so hurt to lose you.” + +“Pete told me he dumped Mona when he found out she was a Lesbian,” Beebo +frowned. + +“He’s lying, as usual. He only falls for gay girls,” Paula said. She had +gone to Beebo’s side and put her arms around her for consolation. Beebo, +reviewing Pete’s behavior toward her in a new light, felt faintly +nauseated. “And I thought he was just trying to get my goat,” she said, +returning Paula’s embrace. + +“Darling,” Paula said, and Beebo thought how much warmer and truer the +word was when Paula spoke it than when it bloomed on Venus’s perfect +lips like a gaudy rose. + +“Beebo, I want to explain—about myself—” Paula said haltingly. + +“You don’t have to, I understand.” + +“No, you don’t. I didn’t myself. Beebo, I’ve always been such a steady, +sensible girl. Even when I discovered I was gay. I didn’t go all to +pieces like so many kids. It shook me up, yes, but I did the reasonable +thing. I went out and learned all I could about it. I’d never had +special prejudices against other people’s problems, and I hadn’t any +against my own. + +“I tried to accept the fact, and after a while I got used to it. But all +the time I was waiting for somebody wonderful to come along; for a +beautiful love affair to make it all right. We’d live quietly together, +we’d cherish each other, and life would be rosy. + +“I didn’t think it would be simple, but I thought it would be +satisfying—and permanent. That’s the kind of girl I am, Beebo. + +“I found other girls while I was waiting so trustingly for this perfect +love,” she said, speaking with the disillusioned realism of hindsight. +“And they taught me a lot. I thought this was necessary. You have to +know the different kinds of love before you can recognize the kind you +need. I met Mona during this period. She’s mean as an old crow, but +she’s sharp and I learned a lot from her. + +“And then the girl in the plaid pajamas came along. It wasn’t beautiful, +Beebo. Nothing I had learned before prepared me for what I went through. + +“I lost my self-respect ... my ideals. My efforts to please her rubbed +her the wrong way. I did everything I thought would draw us close, even +when it seemed like madness. I moved to the Village, I went with her +fast crowd, I quit my job. I drank too much and played too hard, for +fear if I didn’t she’d think I was square. I did things that were +downright degrading.” + +Beebo embraced her tightly. “Honey, you’re the sweetest girl I ever +knew,” she said. “I won’t believe anything bad about you.” She guided +her back to the bedroom. + +“What I want you to know is,” Paula whispered, lying down on the bed, +“that I’m not a kook. I don’t usually fly off the handle emotionally. I +never did it before my affair with the girl in the pajamas. I live an +orderly life, I work hard, I care about people. Only, Beebo, you just +couldn’t have happened. You walked in here asking for Mona last +night—was it only last night!—and I realized that all I’d suffered +before was the dark before the dawn. Maybe it was a sort of price I had +to pay for being gay. I paid it, and Heaven dropped you in my lap. I +want to deserve you, Beebo.” + +Beebo was nonplused. She kissed Paula’s white throat, holding her and +frowning into the dim light where Paula couldn’t see her face. It was +disturbing to have such a strong emotion centered on her. She desired +Paula passionately. Every endearment Beebo had spoken to her, she had +spoken truthfully, but without once repeating, “I love you.” + +Paula had brought her out; something Paula herself couldn’t believe. And +no matter what other women might figure in Beebo’s life, Paula would +always be dear to her for that alone. + +But Beebo was afraid of hurting her. There was more than a humble excuse +in Paula’s explanations; there was also that weapon of amorous women, a +plea for sympathy. It was a hint to Beebo: _Don’t hurt me like the girl +in the plaid pajamas did, or you’ll destroy me._ Beebo caught it and +fretted over it in silence. + +Paula began to worry that she had said too much. She raised up on one +elbow, pressed her mouth against Beebo’s cheek, and said, “I want you to +know I’m as surprised as you are by this love-at-first-sight thing. I +thought it was all rot till I met you. Darling, I’m well aware it didn’t +hit you as hard as it did me. I promise I won’t be a nuisance. I’ll love +you very quietly like a good sensible girl. I won’t shriek and weep in +public, or chase you, or take pills. I’ll just love you. So much and so +well you’ll have to love me back ... someday. You will, won’t you?” + +Beebo felt suddenly cornered and couldn’t answer. But when she finally +glanced at Paula, Paula had found the courage to smile at her, to tuck +her dismay out of sight. It gave Beebo an odd sort of pride in her, as +if a child of hers had performed bravely in the face of a hard +disappointment. It made Paula still sweeter and more attractive. + +“Doesn’t everybody love you, little Paula?” + +“Almost everybody ... except Miss Plaid Pajamas and Beebo Brinker.” +Paula gave her a wry grin that let Beebo relax. “But they don’t count. +All the intelligent, rich, beautiful people are insanely in love with +me.” + +Beebo laughed and pulled her down on the bed. “Not hard to see why,” she +said. “You’re adorable.” She was still full of wonderment and +fascination over the new role she was playing with Paula: lover, friend, +protector. It felt so good, it fit so well, it rather astounded her. It +was like picking up a violin for the first time and finding you could +play a lilting tune with no practice at all. + +Beebo’s good humor rescued Paula from the dumps. She began to feel +affectionate again. For Beebo, it was a delirious pleasure to act out on +a real girl in a real bed all the intense love play that had filled her +solitude. She fell asleep very late, very tired, with Paula in her arms. + + * * * * * + +Beebo got up early the next morning. She was in no hurry to face Pete +Pasquini, knowing what she now knew about him, but she didn’t want to +lose her job till she could scout down another. She was not in a +financial position to get hard-nosed with him yet, and besides she was +confident that she could handle whatever he could dish out. They were +nearly of a size, and he had never shown himself more than a brash +nuisance. And anyway, a man who could fall in love with the likes of +Mona Petry was not likely to find himself erotically interested in Beebo +Brinker. + +Paula was pensive throughout breakfast and when Beebo demanded to know +why, she admitted, “It’s Mona.” + +Beebo laughed, but Paula was serious. “She’s one of those people with +nothing to do. She has to make trouble to keep from going mad with the +‘Flats’—that’s what she calls it. She doesn’t work—her men give her +enough money to live on. She doesn’t do a thing but amuse herself. If +you know her at all, you have to be a lover or a hater. There’s no +middle ground with her.” + +“Shall I hire a bodyguard?” Beebo kidded. + +“She’ll try to punish you somehow. She’s been stood up by you and +tricked by Pete. She’s not the kind who can tolerate being made a fool +of. Pete doesn’t count, he’s only a man, and she can twist him around +her finger if she’s in the mood. But _you_....” + +“What can Mona do to me?” Beebo said, still smiling. + +“Mona is very inventive. She’ll think of something,” Paula said. + +“Do you mean she’d hurt _you_?” Beebo’s smile faded. + +“Oh, I doubt it,” Paula said. “It wouldn’t be half as much fun as making +an effigy of Beebo and sticking pins in it. If she does, you’ll squirm, +too. For heaven’s sake, darling, don’t do anything she could blackmail +you for.” + +Beebo laughed and reassured her. Mona’s jealousy seemed more silly to +her than dangerous. + + * * * * * + +Beebo didn’t see Pete Pasquini at work all day, and Marie had no idea +where he was. “Out making babies with the _filles_,” she said with +offhand contempt. + +Beebo had no wish to confront him and she finished out the day’s work in +relief. But when she got home that night, there was a new surprise for +her. + +Jack let her in, taking the bags of groceries from her. “Haven’t seen +you for two nights,” he said. “Paula must have attractions I can’t +match.” + +“Oh, you’re not bad,” Beebo smiled. “For a man.” + +He started stowing things in the refrigerator, and Beebo became aware of +Pat, who had followed them into the kitchen. “Good news,” Jack said. +“Celebration tonight.” He pulled a bottle of sparkling burgundy from the +shelf. + +Beebo glanced from one to the other. “Did you boys finally tie the +knot?” she said, trying to make it sound light. + +“Nothing formal yet,” Jack grinned. “I believe in long engagements. No, +little pal, we are festive tonight because Pat is no longer with the +Sanitary Department.” + +“It was too unsanitary,” Pat chuckled. + +“I thought you were taking your vacation,” Beebo said. Suddenly, her +precarious place in this still-new city was menaced. The time to move +out was coming fast. + +“Vacation, hell. He quit,” Jack said. “I asked him to.” + +“How come?” + +“I don’t want my betrothed to work,” Jack said, pouring the champagne. +It exploded into tiny fountains of fizz, and they each took a glass. + +Jack lifted his. “Long life and health,” he said, and added +significantly, “and love all around.” + +They drank. Beebo nodded to Pat. “All I can say, Pat, is what they said +to me when I left Juniper Hill: good riddance to bad rubbish.” + +“Beebo, you should have been a poet,” Jack said. + +She finished her drink and stood up. “I guess you two want to celebrate +by yourselves,” she said. + +“Not at all. Have dinner with us,” Jack said. + +“I think Paula’s waiting for me,” Beebo said. After an awkward pause she +added, “She asked me to move in with her.” + +“She doesn’t waste time, does she?” said Jack. “Do you want to?” + +“I don’t know. It would give her the right to expect me to be faithful. +I can’t imagine a lovelier girl. But I hardly know her. And there are so +damn many girls in the world.” + +“Which reminds me. How was La Bogardus?” + +“If you mean the bosom, it’s authentic.” + +Jack laughed. “You must have been a big hit, if you got that far.” + +“No. I just have good eyes. And she’s allergic to underwear, which makes +it pretty obvious.” She sat down heavily for a moment on a kitchen chair +across the table from Pat. + +“You look tired, honey,” Jack said concernedly. + +“I haven’t had much sleep the last two nights,” she said and let them +chortle at her, smiling a little. + +“She’s a doll, that Paula,” Jack said. “If I were you, I’d keep a close +eye on her.” He waited a moment. “You don’t have to go as far as moving +in with her, though. Not if you’re not ready.” + +Beebo looked up at him and reached out to squeeze his arm. “You’re too +damn good to me, Jack,” she said. “I know it’s getting crowded here.” + +“Nobody’s complaining!” Jack said. “Besides, if you move out, Pat will +probably go, too. You’re still my biggest asset.” + +Pat smiled and Beebo laughed, but there was just enough truth in it to +make them all a little uncomfortable. + +“If only you could get your elbow in your ear,” Pat said to her +wistfully, making Jack hilarious. But despite the bantering tone, Pat +had found a serious new interest in himself. He was staring and +wondering at the many handsome, mannish, and somewhat authoritative +girls around Greenwich Village. His crush on Beebo had the effect of +opening his eyes to a new and quite fascinating possibility. But so far +it was nothing to threaten his affection for Jack, and he said nothing. + +Beebo lighted a cigarette, watching as Jack refilled her wine glass. “If +I ask a hard question, will you boys tell me the truth?” she said at +last. They nodded at her curiously in silent assent. + +“When you want me to move out, will you, for God’s sake, please say so? +I feel bad enough about mooching from Jack as it is.” + +“Forget it,” Jack said. “Stay as long as you want to, pal.” + +She sipped the drink. “It’s not that I don’t want Paula,” she said. “I +just don’t want her enough to cut loose from all the rest of the women +in the world yet. And I’m not earning enough to live alone.” + +“You should have met her five years from now,” Jack said sagely. “You +would have been ready then.” + +“Maybe we can make it together after a few months,” Beebo said. She was +musing guiltily about somebody else; someone who had nothing to do with +Paula, and yet who affected Beebo’s decision not to go live with the +pretty little redhead. Beebo had been eager to stay with Paula, eager to +be asked, throughout the first night and day of their acquaintance. It +would have solved so many problems, economic and emotional. + +Then she got away from Paula for a few hours. She met a woman of +provocative beauty who stuck in her imagination, almost without her +realizing it at first, and who roused her desire for variety: Venus. +When she got back to Paula, she was made to see that Paula was urgently +in love with her, and it scared her. She was flattered but afraid of the +responsibility. And not at all sure she could return the love in full +measure. + +So she dodged the decision temporarily by volunteering to take Jack’s +sofa and leave the bed to the men. And for a while it worked out. Beebo +spent most of her evenings with Paula—and sometimes the entire night—and +Paula wisely refrained from pushing her any more on moving in. + +There was a complete—and, Paula thought, ominous—silence from Mona. And +another odd development was the disappearance of Pete Pasquini. For +almost two weeks, nobody saw him. Marie kept saying she hoped to God he +had deserted her at last. She was massively uninterested in finding him. + +When he finally made a startling appearance, he touched off a howling +family feud, with Marie vowing to drown him in spaghetti sauce and his +mother promising to throw Marie in after him. The children lined up on +the narrow stairs leading up from the kitchen and shrieked approval of +the melee. + +Beebo walked in on it at eight-thirty in the morning and brought a +sudden stillness to the room. She stood there uncertainly with all eyes +on her and finally said, “Don’t let me stop you.” Pete smiled at her. + +Marie came to life, striding toward Beebo to plead her case with +feminine ardor. “We find out this morning. He gets back last night, +without telling nobody,” she said, waving a steaming red spoon at her +husband. The coating of sauce underlined her threats to drown him. + +“We’re all asleep, it’s late. The phone rings twice and stops. We go +back to sleep—they must’ve hung up. What we don’t know,” she hollered in +a rising voice, “this piece of dung is in the shop and _he_ answers it. +Why is he in the shop in the middle of the night? It’s dark, no +customers, nothing to do. Nothing but tin cans and dry pasta. Is he +making love to the tomato paste? Who knows what a crazy dago goes for?” + +Pete laughed, and all the while his brilliant black eyes were fixed on +Beebo, who refused to meet them, concentrating instead on Marie’s +theatrics. + +“So who’s on the phone? _Bogardus_,” Marie said. + +Beebo gasped. + +“Yeah, that’s right,” Marie said, hands on her hips, spoon dripping +bloody sauce. “She wants spaghetti this time. It’s the middle of the +night—never mind. She got a taste for spaghetti. ‘Send me that one with +the funny name,’ she says. And she don’t mean Pasquini.” She threw Pete +a look of ferocious scorn. “So Hot Pants here, he says sure, he bring it +right up, the stupid sonofabitch. No spaghetti, never mind, he makes up +a leftover pizza.” She rolled her eyes to Heaven for vengeance. + +“What happened?” Beebo said, her mind suddenly full of the star’s vivid +face and sensual body. + +“So I make the delivery,” Pete said languidly, seating himself on a +table amid the crunchy bread crumbs. “Bogardus opens the door herself +and says, ‘Where’s Beebo?’ Well, I’m surprised, I don’t realize how +popular you are with these actress types.” He grinned and picked his +teeth with neat nonchalance, while Beebo began to sweat nervously. + +“So I tell her, you’re sick, you can’t make it, but it’s okay, I got her +spaghetti. She says, ‘Thank you, darling—’” He rolled the endearment +interminably off his tongue, always smiling directly at Beebo. “—and +opens it. I’m waiting for her to hand me some money, minding my own +business—” + +“For the first time in two weeks!” Marie interpolated. “Where was your +hands all this time, Pete?” + +“In my pockets,” he replied coolly. “She wasn’t in a mood for no man +last night.” + +Beebo’s whole face flushed a high red. She wanted to turn and rush out +of the place, but the thought of his raucous laughter alone prevented +her. + +“So instead of the money,” he went on leisurely, “she hands me back the +pizza. In the face.” + +“I begin to respect this woman,” Marie commented. + +Pete continued, “She says, ‘What do you mean spaghetti? This ain’t +spaghetti. And _you_ ain’t no Beebo Brinker, neither.’ How do you like +that, butch? You can write your own ticket with that one. Only you +better make it a round trip. I understand you got a good reason for +visiting back on McDonald Street these days.” + +“She got a good reason to spit in your face, you damn wop!” Marie +declared, siding with Beebo. + +Pete ignored her. “That Paula, she’s a looker, hm? I wouldn’t mind +cracking that little nut myself,” he said to Beebo, folding his arms and +enjoying her alarm. + +“I’ll crack yours one of these days,” Beebo said in a sudden fury. +“Don’t talk about Paula, you dirty her name.” + +“Don’t mind him, Beebo,” Marie said, sensing trouble. “It ain’t just +Paula, anyway. It ain’t enough he runs after skirts all the time. He +wants the girls who want other girls. Figure _that_ one out. After all +his big talk about fags.” + +“Fags go for other fags. I go for girls,” Pete said, but Marie had +finally rattled him. Any challenge to his manhood threw him into a +panic. It was clear he drew a fine distinction between his own sexual +preferences—“normal”—and everybody else’s. + +“You go for Lesbians,” Marie said, silencing him with a wave of her gory +spoon. She did him further insult by describing his desires to Beebo, as +if Pete were not even in the room. “He’s three-fourths fag and the rest +sadist,” she said. “That’s why he don’t chase real women. He has to hurt +a girl—a girl who don’t _want_ it—before he can get it up.” She glared +at him like a cannibal. + +Pete looked back with cold wrath. “I got five kids on those stairs says +you’re a liar,” he said. “Or are you saying _you_ ain’t a real woman?” + +“Don’t fake with me, Pasquini. I know what you pretend in bed,” Marie +shouted. “You married me to prove you was a man, and once we left the +church, you figure you proved it. Well, it ain’t that simple.” + +Pete walked toward her and Marie paled and stiffened, ready for a blow. +But he passed her and went to Beebo, who could only stand her ground +like Marie and hope he’d go on by. But he stopped, putting a hand on her +shoulder, and pulled her aside. + +“Don’t listen to her, she’s cracked,” he said softly. “I told Bogardus +you’d be up with the spaghetti this afternoon. Does that make me your +friend?” + +“After your cracks about Paula?” she said, shaking his hand off roughly. + +“I told you where to find Paula, too,” he reminded her, and his eyes +glittered. “I always say nice things about that one. She’s a nice girl.” + +Beebo looked at him with revulsion. “You sent me there to even some +secret score of yours with Mona. Don’t act noble about it.” + +He chuckled. “Still, I sent you, butch. And you went. You tell me if +you’re sorry. You tell me if I ever done one thing you want to complain +about.” + +“We’d be here all day,” Beebo snapped. She turned to start working on +the morning’s orders, but he followed her into the store, leaving Marie +and the others to understand he was through fighting. Beebo heard Marie +say wearily to Mrs. Pasquini, “So how come your son looks so good in +Bordeaux and so lousy in New York? Okay, don’t yell, go see about the +kids.” + +Pete and Beebo worked in silence but whenever she glanced at him he +seemed to have glanced at her first and was waiting for her eyes with a +smile. He got his orders packed ahead of her and loped out the back door +at a jaunty pace. Beebo watched his retreating back with relief. Before +he drove away he leaned in and called to her. + +“Don’t forget—Bogardus wants her pasta at five-thirty,” he said. She +straightened up and glowered at him till he laughed and withdrew. + +Beebo finished the orders quickly, her mind teeming with ideas for +another job. Anything would be preferable to Pete’s endless leering. It +was one thing for him to chase pretty Lesbians like Mona. But that he +might desire Beebo—big and rangy, almost more boy than girl—seemed as +utterly perverse and unnatural to her as that she might desire him. + +She was surprised when the front bell rang and Pat Kynaston walked in. +She was just ready to leave. + +“What are you doing here!” she exclaimed. + +“I brought Marie some goodies for her cockroaches,” he said, shaking a +colored cylinder full of powder. “The Last Supper. Going to make some +deliveries?” + +Beebo nodded. + +“Take me along,” he said pleasantly. “I haven’t anything to do, and the +heat in that apartment is godawful.” + +She relented after a moment’s indecision, and gave him a smile. “Okay, +bring those boxes and follow me,” she said. “You can take my mind off +things.” + + * * * * * + +Late in the afternoon they arrived at Venus Bogardus’s apartment on Park +Avenue. Beebo parked in the service entrance, letting her hands drop +between her knees with a sigh. Pat lighted her cigarette and they sat +and smoked a minute. + +“Kind of a stuck-up looking dump, isn’t it?” she said, squinting up at +the glistening windows, stacked with parallel nicety clear to the +clouds. “Well, let’s go do it.” + +She got the hot spaghetti and on a sudden inspiration, included a jar of +kosher dills intended for a different customer. + +“Who are we going to see this time?” Pat yawned on the way up. + +“Probably another maid,” Beebo said. + +“Whose?” + +“Venus Bogardus’s.” + +Pat straightened up and stared at her. + + * * * * * + +But it was Toby, Venus’s problem child, who let them in. “Hi, Beebo,” he +said, pleased to see her. + +“Hi, buddy. Where’s your mama?” She was sorry at once she had asked. +There was a cook by the stove this time—apparently the one who ditched +Venus periodically, but always came back. She was thin and sticky with +butter, and she looked inhospitable. + +“I hear Venus threw some food around last night,” Beebo smiled at Toby. +“I brought her a peace offering. Sweets to the sweet,” and she handed +Toby the pickles. “This is a friend of mine, Toby—Pat Kynaston.” They +shook hands and a silence ensued. All Beebo had to do now was wait for +her money and leave. But she heard herself asking again, “Is Venus +here?” + +“Come on in. I’ll go see,” Toby said unwillingly. + +He left the kitchen briefly and returned, his hands jammed nervously in +his pockets. “She’s in her room,” he reported. “In a goddamn peignoir. +She only wants to see you, Beebo. I told her about Pat and she said she +didn’t want any peace offerings. She wouldn’t even listen about the +pickles.” + +“Oh, God,” Pat whispered to Beebo. “I suppose I go to the cook as a +consolation prize.” + +Toby walked over to them. “I have a good collection of records,” he said +diffidently. “And guns. That’s one thing all those fathers are good for. +I didn’t go for the guns at first, but I’ve gotten kind of interested. +If you’d like to see them ... I mean, I think Mom is busy for a few +minutes.” + +Beebo was touched by his loneliness, his eagerness for company. She had +the feeling that he was choosy about his friends, and living a life +where he could hardly meet any anyway. It made her seem quite important +to him. + +He grinned at her. “You’re still on my side, aren’t you?” he said. + +“All the way,” she laughed. “I just want to apologize to your mother for +our delivery boy. I guess he got fresh.” + +“No,” Toby said, his face lengthening. “She did.” + +The cook absorbed all this with silent disapproval. She was the type who +disapproved of everything—even food. + +“I wish you wouldn’t see my mother,” Toby confessed unexpectedly. + +Beebo’s mouth dropped open a little. “I thought somebody ought to ask +her pardon for last night,” she said, embarrassed. “The Pasquinis don’t +want to lose her.” + +“They don’t need her,” he said, looking at the floor. + +“Hmp,” said the cook to the spinach during the shocked pause that +followed. + +“That’s no way to talk about your mother, Toby,” Beebo said. + +“You heard how she talks about me,” he countered. “What am I supposed to +do? Pretend I’m deaf?” + +Beebo listened, full of compassion, but afraid of the big-eared cook. +Toby spoke as if she were no more than another kitchen appliance, like +her stove. + +But he saw Beebo’s glance, and pushed the kitchen door wide. “Come on in +my room,” he said. “We can talk there.” + +Beebo put the spaghetti on the counter and followed him, with Pat behind +her. The apartment was richly decorated and unkempt. + +In his room, Toby sat on the bed, and Beebo and Pat found places on +chairs. He had his guns in two glass cases hung on the wall, and the +rest of the room was a jumble of phonograph records, books, and school +mementos. + +Toby wanted to talk frankly to Beebo, and yet they were more strangers +than friends. But he needed to talk, to melt the strangeness away and +find the friend. At last he began, rather abruptly, “I just don’t want +my mother to turn you against me. I mean, you’re a good kid and I want +you to know me the way I am. Then you won’t think I’m such a dumb baby +when she starts talking about what a ‘lovely child’ I am, but she can +hardly wait till I outgrow it.” + +Beebo heard this awkward speech with an ache of recognition. How it hurt +to be so young, so at the mercy of your elders, and, often, lessers. So +full of rainbows and music and romantic love ... yet always cracking +your head against the walls of reality. + +“I know she says some silly things, Toby,” she said seriously. “But you +love her anyway, don’t you?” + +“I guess so. But I’ve seen her with so many guys it just about makes me +sick,” he said tiredly. “Until this year. Now, she says they all bore +her and she’s sworn off men forever. I hope she means it. It’s been +three months since she had a date. She’s terrible to men. They make such +fools of themselves for her. I don’t know what she does to them, honest. +And I’m not stupid!” he added quickly. “I mean, I know what she +does—_technically_.” It was a toss-up whether his contempt was greater +for his mother or her men. + +Pat cleared his throat to camouflage a smile. Toby was conversant with +sophisticated sex beyond his years; yet it was difficult and +embarrassing for him to talk with friends his own age. Venus could take +the blame for it, and Beebo felt a swell of righteous anger at her. + +“You know what I think?” Toby said thoughtfully. “I think she’s bored +with me, too. Well, after all, I’m a male.” He said it with pride and +resentment, as if it were a fact not always respected in his family. +“She needs somebody new to hurt and tease. If you make yourself +available, I’ll bet she picks on you. It’s no fun, either.” + +“Me?” Beebo said incredulously. + +“You see her today and _you’ll_ find out,” he warned. + +Beebo, conditioned by Venus’s flirting and by the mood of her night with +Paula, said incautiously, “You mean—she’s interested in me? I mean....” +Her voice trailed off, giving her meaning away, and Toby’s cheeks turned +crimson. She realized she had shocked him, but he thought it was his +fault for making the wrong implication. + +“Not _that_ way,” he explained hastily. “She’s not _sick_.” + +“Oh,” Beebo said. “Excuse me.” + +Pat frowned at her, and she looked at her knees. + +“She wants somebody around to admire her and say yes to her,” Toby said. +“Somebody whose feelings she can hurt. You have to be tough as Leo to +get along with her. Leo doesn’t have any feelings ... at least, they +never show.” + +“Leo—her husband?” + +“Yes. He’s the only man in her life who won’t get down on his knees to +her. But I think he’s the only one who really loves her, too. The others +love the glamour, but Leo knows her through and through, and he loves +her.” He shook his head as if it were incomprehensible. + +“You love her too, Toby,” Beebo said. + +He hunched his shoulders. “She’s my mother. What can you do?” he said +with heartbreaking, youthful cynicism. “Even if the old bag did raise +me.” + +“Who’s the old bag?” + +“Mrs. Sack. She’s my—well, you might say, my nurse ... she’s been around +so long, she’s part of the family, even if I am too old for her now.” +The blush on his face deepened, but he needed terribly to share his +burdens, and he felt safe with Beebo. She was a girl, so she couldn’t +fall in love with his mother. And she had spirit and humor, which she +had used to defend him. Besides, his solitude weighed desperately on +him. + +“Mrs. Sack was there when Mom brought me home from the hospital, and +she’s done everything for me since then. Mom just sat around and blew +kisses at me between lovers.” + +“She must have done more than that or you’d hate her,” Beebo said. + +“I do hate her!” he flared. “Leo hates her, too. That doesn’t mean we +don’t love her, but she makes it awful hard.” In a knowing voice he +added, “There are two things in this world my mother really loves, and +one of them is not _men_.” Pat and Beebo stared at him. “She loves +herself and money. Mostly herself. She’ll tell you that if you ask her. +She’ll tell the whole damn world. That’s how full of shit she is.” + +“Toby,” Beebo said gently. “Maybe you just see all the bad things now. +Maybe when you grow up and get away from her, you’ll see her good side.” + +“If she _has_ one,” he said. “She calls me ‘darling’ all the time, and +five minutes later she’s calling a complete stranger ‘darling.’ I mean +about as much to her as the stranger.” + +“I think it’s just a habit with her,” Beebo guessed. “Like some people +calling everybody ‘honey.’” + +“And secretly hating them all,” Toby said. “I wish just once in my life +she’d call me Toby—when she wasn’t mad at me, I mean. That _is_ my name. +She gave it to me.” + +Beebo wanted to pat him on the back, wanted to smile and say, “She +will—I guarantee it.” He was a perceptive boy and very appealing. But +she had nothing to comfort him with. “Well, if it’s any consolation, +_I’ll_ call you Toby,” she grinned, and was pleased to see him answer +her smile. + +There was a difficult silence until Pat said, getting to his feet, +“That’s quite a bunch of guns. Who gave you the Japanese bayonet?” + +Toby followed him to the case and began an animated conversation. Beebo +sat pensively listening. Evidently it never occurred to Toby that Beebo +could be sexually attracted to his mother. All his precocious knowledge +of sex was confined strictly to his mother’s—admittedly +free-wheeling—activities. And while Venus had done many things with many +people, she had not, to Toby’s knowledge, done everything. + +Beebo was surprised to feel so concerned about the boy. She was better +acquainted with him now. His descriptions of his mother’s character were +so youthfully lopsided they revealed more about him than they did about +her. But it seemed certain that one thing he said was true: he did +honestly both hate and love her very much. + +The three of them were startled when Toby’s bedroom door swung open and +Venus stood in the hallway. “Well, darling, why didn’t you send my +visitor to me?” she demanded of her son. + +Toby turned around, his chin jutting forward, ready for a tilt with her. +But she merely inclined graciously all around, her smile flitting over +Pat as though he were just another gun and settling on Beebo. + +“Come in and talk with me,” she told Beebo. “I had a dreadful experience +last night and it’s all your fault.” + +“I’m sorry, Miss Bogardus,” Beebo said, standing up and feeling like a +bumpkin dripping hayseeds in front of her. + +“Don’t go, Beebo, it’s a trap,” Toby said sardonically. + +“Darling, what a lyrical sentiment,” Venus fired at him. “Come on, +Beebo.” She turned and sailed down the hall, and Beebo felt angrily like +a toy dog, expected to jump when Venus snapped her fingers. + +Pat went to her and whispered, “If you feel yourself getting friendly, +scream for help.” + +“Big help you’d be,” Beebo said. + +“Well, at least I won’t be tempted to sin,” he said. “I don’t go for +peignoirs.” + +“I hope you don’t go for guns, either,” she warned him in a whisper. And +aloud, she said to Toby, “Don’t worry, I won’t turn traitor.” + +Then, with a sense of exasperation, shame and excitement, she followed +Venus to her room. + + * * * * * + +It was a real boudoir; a luxurious old-fashioned bower, a glamorous +retreat where a coveted woman makes herself irresistible in perfumed +privacy; receives the gifts of rich and handsome men, and strikes them +helpless with adoration. At least, that was the general idea. + +The rug was white, the walls pale blue, and the dressing table wore six +silk chiffon petticoats. + +“Well, darling?” Venus said. “Do you like my little nest?” + +Beebo began to laugh in spite of herself. “If you’ll forgive me, Miss +Bogardus,” she said. “It’s one great big gorgeous cliché.” + +“Of course it is,” Venus smiled. “I planned it that way to offend +Leo.... You know, you sound like you’ve made it in more boudoirs than +Errol Flynn.” + +“Oh, no,” Beebo said, taken aback. “I’ve just read more bad novels. The +sirens always have a boudoir like this.” + +Venus turned around and studied her with amusement in the oval mirror +above her dressing table. “Come over here and tell me why they sent that +ghastly man over with the pizza, when I asked for you with spaghetti.” + +Beebo stood her ground, suddenly aware that there was nothing under the +“goddamn peignoir” but naked Venus. “That ghastly man owns the place,” +she said. “He sent himself.” + +You couldn’t look at Venus Bogardus without admiring her form. Even in +her late thirties, it was fine: the kind men hope and dream all women +will have, especially their wives. She was small-waisted, full-breasted, +with a firmly swelling hipline and long shapely legs; the whole package +wrapped up in mathematically right proportions that hadn’t changed since +Venus was a bouncing daisy of sixteen. + +Venus scratched something on a piece of paper and swept across the room +with it in a cloud of cologne and blue silk. “Here you are, darling,” +she said. It was her autograph. “Take this to your boss and tell him I +hope he gets the sauce out of his ears.” + +“He’ll be overcome, I’m sure,” Beebo said, tucking it in her shirt +pocket. + +Venus stood a few feet from her, watching her and making up her mind to +open a difficult subject. “You know, poor Toby is absolutely terrified +we’re going to like each other,” she said restrainedly. “He’s quite +ashamed of me.” + +Beebo was far more embarrassed by Venus’s admissions than by Toby’s. +Toby was still a child you could pity and help. But who could pity +someone with the blinding assets of his mother? Who had enough crust to +offer her any help? + +“Miss Bogardus, I’m sorry about the pizza thing. I—” She hesitated, +wanting only to duck out and avoid facing the new feelings taking shape +inside her. + +“I only threw it at him because he wasn’t you,” Venus said, and Beebo +allowed herself one quick startled look at That Face. She felt +perspiration under her arms and knew her face was damp, too. + +“Sit down, darling, you look feverish,” Venus said. And when Beebo +stuttered something about going home, Venus laughed. “Why Beebo, I think +I’ve got you going,” she said. “I’ll bet I’m not the first girl who ever +did that to you.” It was said in a light friendly tone intended to +tease, but it made Beebo so intensely uncomfortable that she began to +tremble. It became acutely clear to her that she desired that remote and +laughing goddess very much; so much she suddenly lost her voice. + +“You were full of beans the last time you were here,” Venus said. “Don’t +be a square now. Tell me all the nice things you know about me. I +promise not to take any of them seriously.” + +Beebo got her voice out finally by blasting on it like an auto horn. “I +only know what everybody knows,” she blurted. + +“The gossip columns?” Venus said. “You can’t be so naive that you +believe that crap, darling. I’ll bet Toby’s been talking to you. Telling +you stories about his wicked mama.” From the look on Beebo’s face, she +concluded he had. + +Beebo didn’t want to insult her. “Why should he?” she said, wishing all +the while that she could open a window somewhere for fresh air. + +“Oh, he thinks I’m dreadful. And of course I am. But I’m kind of sorry +he realizes it already.” + +Beebo saw a real regret shadow her face, and all at once it seemed +possible—almost—to feel sorry for her. + +“If you don’t want him to know it, you’ll have to put blinkers on him,” +Beebo said quietly. “I was fourteen a few years ago. You don’t miss +seeing much at that age.” + +“When he was born,” Venus said, “I was much too young and ambitious to +give a damn about him. Now, when he matters, I find I’ve done everything +wrong ... everything I’ve bothered to do for him, that is. I haven’t +bothered to do very much.” + +“You don’t need to tell me these things, Miss Bogardus,” Beebo said, +amazed to hear Venus speak such damaging truths about herself, to see +the steel surface of her go-to-hell gaiety buckle and crack. + +“He likes you,” Venus said, somewhat self-conscious now. She lighted a +cigarette and shrugged. “He’s such a baby. I love him awfully, but he +makes me so damn mad.” + +“He’s a nice kid, Miss Bogardus,” Beebo said. “Maybe if you could see +his side now and then.... It’s so easy to ruin a kid that age.” + +“I’m a nice kid, too, darling,” Venus flashed, and Beebo realized from +her anger that she had spoken too bluntly. “And I’ll do whatever I damn +please with Toby. That includes ruining him if I feel like it.” She sat +down suddenly on a satin-topped stool, tired. “I—I ruined him anyway, +and I never felt like it at all,” she said, as if too weary to repress +the truth. + +“I don’t want to bore you, Beebo. But I do want to know what he’s been +saying about me. I know he’s been talking to you the last half hour.” +She looked across the room at Beebo. “Please,” she said. Her voice was +rough with fatigue. + +Beebo shifted her weight and her legs felt almost boneless. “Well,” she +said uneasily. “I don’t suppose it’s anything he hasn’t already said to +you.” Venus looked directly at her, and Beebo wondered if it might not +impress her more to hear these things from somebody other than Toby. “He +loves you very much, Miss Bogardus,” she said. “But I don’t think he +likes you.” + +Venus merely nodded. “That’s no news,” she said. “He’s like all the +other men I know.” She looked disgusted. + +“He said you didn’t like men,” Beebo said. + +“I beg your pardon!” Venus exclaimed. “I absolutely _adore_ men. All but +Leo, anyway.” She stood up and walked briskly back and forth for a +moment, as if she intended to hear no more—at least not till her +feathers settled. + +“Tell me about yourself, Beebo,” she said, and again Beebo was miffed by +the offhand order. + +“I’d bore you to tears,” she said. “You don’t want to hear about my +daddy’s cows and chickens down on the farm.” + +“I think I do,” Venus said sincerely. “I never had a daddy. Or a +chicken.” Beebo began to protest about leaving again and Venus waved at +her impatiently. “All right, all right, but before you go, tell me the +rest about Toby.” + +Beebo didn’t know what to make of her. Hadn’t she heard it all from him +herself? Venus glanced at her. “He’s been chattering about you since you +brought that pizza over,” she explained. “He _likes_ you. That means +he’ll talk to you. He only shouts at me.... Sit down, Beebo.” + +Beebo obeyed her out of growing curiosity. It seemed clear to her now +that she had inadvertently become a line of communication between mother +and son; that perhaps Toby did say things to Beebo he refused to mention +to Venus—or at least, said them more candidly. + +“There isn’t much to tell,” Beebo said, trying to squirm out of it. +Venus looked very worried. “He just seems lonesome. I think it was a +relief to him to spout off at me.” She smiled. + +Venus sighed. “He’s a bewildering little devil,” she said, “but I guess +he’s the only human being I’ve ever loved. Or ever will love. I loathed +him when I was carrying him. I thought he’d ruin my waist. I scarcely +looked at him till he was nine or ten. Mrs. Sack brought him up. He +grumbles about her, but there are times when I’d give anything if he’d +grumble about me the same way ... times when I actually hate that +woman!” Beebo watched her blow her nose on a tissue on the dressing +table and realized with a twinge that she was crying. + +“He calls her ‘the old bag,’” Beebo said kindly. + +“And I’m ‘the old bitch,’” Venus said. Her voice was unsteady. “I should +never have let him slip away from me. But he scared me, to tell the +truth. Not just that he was a baby, and I resented him and didn’t know +where to begin caring for him. But he ... he had convulsions and things. +Terrifying things that absolutely paralyzed me. And Mrs. Sack was so +efficient and reassuring. Oh, hell, it’s no excuse. But it seemed like +one then.” + +“Convulsions?” Beebo repeated, surprised. + +“Yes. He has epilepsy. The _grand mal_ kind. Big stuff.” There was a +shocked silence and Venus added sharply, “Well, it’s not a oneway pass +to the bughouse.” + +“No, no, I know,” Beebo replied. “I—I’m just so sorry.” + +“Well, I’m sorry, too,” Venus said, and she had control of herself now. +The tears had stopped. “Most of the time he’s perfectly normal—whatever +_that_ is for boys of fourteen. But every so often, when he’s especially +tired or nervous, he gets these ... seizures. He gets rigid as a post.” +She faced Beebo. “Have you ever seen it?” she said. + +Beebo shook her head. “But I’ve heard about such things. It’s like a +muscle spasm, isn’t it?” + +Venus’s eyes drifted away, seeing it in her mind. “He shoots up from a +chair like a jack-in-the-box, and falls straight and stiff as a pole. +His saliva foams. We have to be careful that he doesn’t swallow his +tongue.” She took a breath. “It’s frightening to see your own child like +that.... Well, then he goes to sleep, a stone-dead sleep, and when he +wakes up he usually can’t even remember it. He just wants to be quiet +for a while, by himself. Read books and stare out the window, sometimes +for a couple of days.” + +“What do you do for it?” Beebo said. “Is there anything?” + +“There are treatments,” Venus said. “Shock therapy, chemotherapy. He +hates it but it helps. He hates to talk to me about it. Mrs. Sack always +rescued him while I ran screaming from the room. He thinks it makes him +repulsive to me. I’ve tried and tried to explain—I’m just a coward!—but +he’s so jittery about it now, I don’t dare bring it up.” + +Beebo sat looking at her linked fingers, young enough to wonder why the +fair and fortunate of this world are afflicted with sorrows as humbling +and frustrating as those of the poor. Venus, whom men feared and +worshipped, women feared and disliked, and children simply feared; +Venus, herself afraid. + +“Toby said some hard things about you, Miss Bogardus,” she said at last, +“but he also said he loved you, and you don’t get that kind of mush out +of fourteen-year-old boys unless they mean it.” + +“I wish he’d say it to me!” Venus cried. “I love him so terribly, but +all I do is drive him nuts. I can’t talk to him and he clams up with +me.” She came and put a perfumed hand on Beebo’s shoulder. “He hasn’t +made a new friend in years,” she said. Her hand was tight and warm and +busy, twisting Beebo’s cotton shirt. “I haven’t made much sense, I’m +afraid,” she said. “I’m trying to be honest and I’m not used to it.” She +gave a clumsy little laugh. “He seems so impressed with you. That was +half the reason I wanted you to come back. I thought if you could draw +him out somehow.... Did he say anything else?” + +Beebo was worried about that expensive and beautiful hand on her +shoulder. About that “half the reason I wanted you back”—what was the +other half? About Toby’s opinion of his mother’s beaux? + +Venus guessed the last part. “My admirers?” she said. “I know he can’t +stand them. Neither can I.” + +“He thinks you’re too fond of....” Beebo stopped and cleared her throat. + +“Don’t get scared off all of a sudden,” Venus pleaded. “I couldn’t take +it. I’m too fond of _what_?” + +“Money. And yourself.” + +“He’s wrong,” Venus said, frowning. “I know it looks that way. And I do +like money. But myself I hate. I hate, hate, hate!” Her voice broke and +her hand held tight to Beebo’s shoulder, steadying her. “Money and my +career. That’s all I have in the world. That’s why I hang on so hard to +them both.” + +“You have Toby,” Beebo ventured, wishing she dared to look up at Venus’s +face, knowing it was kinder not to. + +“Toby isn’t mine,” Venus whispered bitterly. “He just lives here. He +won’t let himself be loved. I gave birth to him, but Mrs. Sack is his +mother.” She was weeping again. + +Beebo reached up and touched her hand, her eyes still down. The whole +mess was so sad and ugly; sadder still for having been preventable. +Beebo was moved and hurt by Venus’s words because she was moved by Toby: +his loneliness, his hopeful trust in her, and now the revelation of his +illness. + +“You’ve reached him, Beebo,” Venus said. “He wants to be friends with +you. You could help me.” She came around the divan and sat down next to +Beebo. The swift drum-bump of her heart was visible under the gauzy blue +silk and it made Beebo want to touch her there; hold her and say +something wise and therapeutic. But she hadn’t the wisdom to manage her +own life yet, let alone someone else’s. + +“I don’t know much about love, Miss Bogardus,” she said shyly. “I just +know if you love somebody, he can’t stop you. All you have to do is keep +loving him till he believes in it, I guess.” + +“That’s not enough, or he’d be happy,” Venus said. + +“Maybe if you did things with him,” Beebo said. “My dad used to spend a +lot of time with me. We walked, we talked things over, we played chess.” + +“I don’t know the black from the white,” Venus said miserably. + +“Toby’s pretty big on guns right now.” + +“I don’t even know which end the bullet’s supposed to come out,” Venus +said. But after a pause full of self-examination she added, “But I guess +I could learn ... guns. God.” + +“It might make all the difference,” Beebo said. + +“Will you come back and see him?” Venus said. “That would help.” + +“Sure,” Beebo said, but she looked away. Venus had touched her arm +again. “He could drive around with me while I make the deliveries +tomorrow. Would he like that?” + +“He’d probably die of joy. Anything with a motor in it sends him into +rhapsodies.” + +Beebo stood up, her own heart beating so fast now that she felt near +suffocating. “It’s getting late,” she said. Venus followed her to the +door. + +“He might resent it if I start sticking my nose into his guns all of a +sudden,” she mused. + +“Not if you’re really interested,” Beebo said. “He won’t hold it against +you, Venus ... beautiful Venus.” It was an unpremeditated explosion of +admiration. Beebo clamped her mouth shut suddenly, mortified. + +But Venus was restored by the slip to good humor. She laughed, and this +time it was a pretty sound, a charming answer to a compliment. + +“Maybe Toby will turn out all right,” Venus said. “You’re bound to be a +good influence.” + +Beebo smiled in embarrassment. “He’ll probably disgrace you by turning +into a model citizen,” she said. + +“I hope he does.” Venus walked the rest of the short distance between +them and put her hands on Beebo’s shoulders. She looked very solemn and +a bit surprised at herself. “Thanks,” she said. + +“For nothing.” Beebo shook her head. She had a wild impulse to pull +Venus’s hands off and run. + +“Beebo,” Venus said thoughtfully. “Do you want to kiss me?” + +In the electrified pause that followed, Beebo heard Toby’s voice echoing +in her ears: “Not _that_ way. She’s not _sick_.” It pounded through her +like a pulse and she knew the answer was obvious to Venus. She reached +down and touched Venus’s waist. “Yes,” she murmured. Venus seemed +reassured, almost pleased. She was on home ground again. She lifted her +face and gave Beebo her lovely mouth. + +It was an astonishing kiss, long and warm. And after it, they stood with +their arms around each other a while, faces averted. Beebo didn’t +realize how hard her embrace was until Venus began to giggle. “Darling, +you’re crushing me,” she said. Beebo released her and backed off +hastily, mumbling apologies. + +“Here,” Venus said, handing her a hanky. “Take the lipstick off, or Toby +will think I’ve perverted you and come after me with one of those damn +guns.” She watched Beebo dab at her chin ineffectually, and then did it +for her. Beebo stood still and let her work, watching her face intently. +It was classically beautiful still, though lacking the pearly perfection +of a twenty-year-old’s. But the bone structure beneath was superb. Beebo +admired her ardently. “Think of all the poor girls who have to go homely +in the world to make one Venus Bogardus,” she said. + +Venus smiled. “I don’t think it works that way, darling,” she said. +“Besides, a face is a temporary thing. After a while you find it doesn’t +work the same old spell any more.” She spoke soberly. “Then you have to +depend on what’s behind it ... if anything. Know who told me that?” + +Beebo shook her head. + +“Leo. My louse of a spouse,” Venus said, blinking. “He told me that when +I was seventeen, and I didn’t believe him. I do now.” She stepped back +and transformed the mood with a smile. “There, you look completely +innocent.” + +“Thank you,” Beebo said. + +“What for? The mop-up? Or the kiss?” + +Beebo swallowed. “Both,” she said. + +“Do you have to go, Beebo? Really?” Venus swirled away a few steps, +making Beebo want to dash after her. But she stood resolutely with her +hand on the door, still too unnerved to know how to behave. “Another +heavy date?” Venus asked. + +“You might say,” Beebo said. + +“Tell me the truth,” Venus said, looking at Beebo over her shoulder. +“Was it an ‘old friend’ last time? Or was it a girl?” + +Beebo looked up at her slowly, her hand so hot and damp it slipped on +the knob. “A girl,” she said finally. + +Venus took this shattering intelligence with serenity. “I thought so,” +she said. “I warn you, darling, I’m going to order spaghetti all week. +You’d better teach her to play solitaire.” + +Beebo bridled at the teasing certainty of Venus’s attitude. “Then +Pasquini will have to make the deliveries,” she said flatly. + +“All I can do is invite you,” Venus said. “I can’t make you come.” + +The double meaning was not lost on Beebo. “I don’t think it would be the +best approach to Toby if you and I got involved,” she said edgily. She +was seeing more than Toby, however; she was seeing Paula. Gentle, +sympathetic, pretty Paula, so in love with her. Paula for whom she felt +such affection and desire. Paula, who told her to run from Milady +Bogardus. She wanted to be safe in Paula’s arms, not here in this +silk-lined trap where so many lovers were so neatly netted. + +Beebo was deeply suspicious of Venus, anyway. What could such a woman +want but transient amusement? Was she gay at all, or just bored and +curious? + +“Toby is the only human being I’ll ever love.” Venus said it. It would +be madness for Beebo to fall in love with her, knowing that. But she had +already learned from Paula that falling in love is not a deliberate act +at all. Sometimes the only way to fight it is to do as Paula said: run. + +“I wish you’d stay a while,” Venus said. + +Beebo gazed steadily at her, and then she opened the door and strode +out. + + * * * * * + +The boys looked up from the living room TV, Toby catching Beebo with +worried eyes and wondering what humiliations Venus had invented for her. +But the sight of his beautiful mother swishing after Beebo with her face +screwed into a scowl consoled him and his heart rose. He wanted Beebo to +teach him nonchalance; teach him to laugh and take Venus less seriously, +before Venus scared her off. + +“Are you going already?” Toby said. + +“How would you like to drive the route with me tomorrow, Toby?” Beebo +asked with a smile. + +Toby threw his mother an uncertain glance, but she said, “Go on, +darling. Learn something about the mysterious pasta business.” + +Toby grinned at her. He hadn’t smiled at her in so long that Venus +merely gazed at him with her mouth open, unable to answer until he had +turned back to Beebo. + +“I’ll pick you up after lunch,” Beebo said. “Come on, Pat.” + +“Just a moment,” Venus said. She caught Pat and put her arms around him, +boarding him like an empress her barge, and kissed him soundly on the +mouth. “There, darling,” she said alluringly. “Don’t wash your mouth for +days. Everybody will die of envy.” + +Pat touched his lips and said a startled, “Thank you.” + +“Mother, that’s repulsive,” Tony muttered. + +“Just wait a year, dear, and it will all come crystal clear,” Venus told +him. + +Beebo took Pat by the arm and propelled him into the kitchen. She was +dismayed at the effort of will it took to leave Venus behind. + +“What a spectacular female,” Pat said, scrambling through the door with +her. “If I weren’t already in love with you, I’d fall for her.” + +“And Jack would be best man,” Beebo quipped. + +“You know, something tells me I _could_ fall for a girl,” he said, +hoping Beebo would pay attention. + +But she only said, “Well, fall outside, will you?” She was afraid if she +didn’t get out fast, inertia would set in. The back door latch eluded +her skittery fingers. + +“Turn it all the way right,” said a crisp female voice. + +They saw the cook, still stirring her witch’s brew. + +“Thanks,” Beebo said, and they got out at last with a grateful gasp. Pat +began to laugh, until he saw Beebo put her head in her hands while they +waited for an elevator. + +“What’s the matter, honey?” he said. “Was Venus bitchy? I’ll go back and +throw something at her.” + +“After the bussing you got?” Beebo said. + +“How about you?” Pat asked softly. And when she didn’t answer, he put +his arms around her, enjoying the contact, standing with her till the +elevator arrived. + +The wicked witch peered at them through the glass in the kitchen door. + + * * * * * + +Beebo was gloomy all the way home, answering Pat laconically. + +“I didn’t even leave a note,” Pat lamented. “Jack will snatch me +bald-headed.” + +“Never. He’s too fond of those blond curls.” + +“Not so fond he won’t clobber me when we get home. It’s late.” + +“You’ve got Jack and I’ve got Paula,” Beebo said, and they brooded about +it. + +Beebo parked in front of Jack’s apartment. Pat looked up at his windows. +“The lights are blazing,” he reported. “And so is Jack, you can bet on +it.” + +“I never saw him mad before,” Beebo said, looking at him quizzically. +Pat’s apprehension seemed silly to her. + +“He’s not in love with you, my friend,” Pat said, and made her wonder at +the distortions—some good, some bad—that love could work in the lover. + +“He probably called Marie. She’ll tell him you’re with me,” she said. + +“That’ll only make him frantic. He thinks we’re a couple of lambs in the +lion’s den.” + +“Maybe he’s right,” Beebo said. She had never felt so exhilarated and +confused and afraid and eager for God-knew-what in her life. + +They hesitated with a common reluctance before the apartment door. “You +go first,” Pat said. “You’re the bravest. If he throws anything, so help +me, I’m going to run for it.” + +Beebo chuckled at him, and then turned the cold brass handle. She opened +the door with a quick swing that revealed only the empty living room. +They walked in. “Jack?” they said together, and a pile of newspapers on +the sofa rolled over and sat up. Jack was very drunk. + +“Hello, you two beautiful dolls,” he said. They looked at one another. +“Paula was here,” he told Beebo. “We got loaded together. If you don’t +want her, I’m going to marry her.” + +Beebo picked up Jack’s empty glass and the bottle on the coffee table +and poured herself a shot. She gave the Scotch to Pat. “Have some. Jack +won’t mind, will you, _darling_?” She imitated the famous Bogardus +inflection. + +“Why should I?” he said, eyes on Pat. “Did you run into Venus while you +were lunching at 21?” + +“We went up to her apartment. She threw a pizza at Pasquini last night.” + +“I heard all about it. Marie was celebrating when I dropped in. Well, it +must have been a jolly reunion.” He saw the smudge on Pat’s lips. “Looks +like the goddess and the gay boy are starting a new trend. You’re solid +lipstick from the nose down.” + +Pat reproached Beebo instantly. “My God, why didn’t you tell me?” he +demanded. + +“I wasn’t looking at you. I’m sorry.” + +“Where’s yours?” Jack said, turning to her. “Or wasn’t this ladies’ +day?” + +“I wiped it off,” Beebo said touchingly, and Jack didn’t know whether to +believe her or not. + +“Something for everyone,” he said. “She must be a Democrat. And what was +Patrick doing while you and Venus occupied the loveseat? Taking notes?” + +“Watching TV,” Pat said casually. “With Toby. Her son.” + +“I hope he was friendly,” Jack said. + +“Very,” Pat replied, irritated by Jack’s jealousy. + +“I’ll bet. Especially if you curled up in his lap.” + +“He’s a nice little kid, Jackson,” Beebo said, surprised at him. Jack +was usually so patient and gentle and funny. “He’s just fourteen, very +mixed-up and very straight.” Jack’s spite amused her a bit and made her +sorry for him. She had never seen him hurt before. He was comical, but +the pain showed too and roused her affection for him. + +“He’s a baby, and I don’t go for babies,” Pat said. “It’s illicit.” + +“Oh, let’s be licit, by all means,” Jack said. “I can see the both of +you, sitting there watching Captain Kangaroo together. Just a pair of +Babes in Boyland.” + +“Honest to God, Mann, you just bug the hell out of me!” Pat exploded in +sudden wrath. + +“With pleasure. Till you scream for mercy,” Jack snapped. + +“Jack, it was your idea that Pat give up his job,” Beebo said. “I took +him with me today for fun. It’s better than having him cruise the +streets all day. Admit it.” + +After a pause, Jack said, “Okay. You’re a pair of worms ... but I’m a +dirty bird. I’m sorry. Call Paula, she’s frantic.” + +Beebo hesitated so long that Jack looked at her and added, “In case +you’ve forgotten, the phone’s in the kitchen.” + +“I know where it is.... I can’t call her. I don’t know what to say,” +Beebo said, and took down another shot like cough medicine. + +Jack noticed her unsteady hands and brooding eyes. “Say, ‘Hello, Paula. +It’s me, Beebo. I’m home,’” he suggested. While his attention was on +Beebo, Pat went over and sat down quietly beside him on the couch. He +took care not to touch him. + +Beebo folded dejectedly onto the floor. “I’m just not sure how I feel, +all of a sudden,” she said, letting her forehead drop into her hand. + +“You didn’t fall for Toby, did you?” Jack said, ignoring the tentative +hand Pat put on his knee. “This seems to be the night to go straight.” + +“Don’t make lousy jokes, Jack.” + +“All right, pal. What happened with Venus? Did she really kiss you? Was +it that great?” True to form, he pushed his own chagrin aside a while to +worry about her. + +“She hates everybody but Toby. She can’t even like herself, and Toby’s +the only human being she’ll ever love. How can such a lovely woman be so +messed up?” Beebo mourned. + +“I see she’s messed you up a bit, too. Beebo, was it you who was +cheating tonight, and not Pat? Are you falling for Venus? Because if +you’re not, you’d go call Paula and laugh this off with her. You +wouldn’t care who Venus loved or why.” + +“I don’t know. Don’t ask me,” Beebo said, crushed almost to despair by +the shame of it—of being a pushover for a professional temptress, and +too mesmerized by her even to phone Paula, whose love for her had become +a torment to them both. + +Pat leaned against Jack cautiously and said, “Toby has seven yo-yos. We +watched the Lone Ranger.” + +“Okay,” Jack said, smiling into space. “Hey, Beebo. Hey!” + +She had rolled over suddenly on her stomach to cry, her face in the +scratchy rug. She shook her head to show she heard him but couldn’t +stop. + +Pat clucked softly at her. “She couldn’t have cared less about that +woman till she checked out the boudoir. They were in there an hour. +Beebo came out transformed.” + +Beebo wept into the stiff wool pile. “I thought I wanted to apologize. +But I really wanted.... Oh, God help me, I’m wild for her. She’s +fabulous.” + +Jack lighted a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke over Beebo’s back. +“Well, that’s two nuts in the family: you and me. We fall in love with +the wrong ones as if it were in the by-laws.” + +Pat turned to stare at him. “Who’s in love?” he said. + +“I am. With you.” + +Pat began to smile. “Why the hell didn’t you _say_ so?” he exclaimed. +“You never said so.” + +“I was waiting for Beebo to go first. Misery loves company.” + +“Come on, you nut, you know I’m crazy about you,” Pat said, smiling at +him. He leaned over. “Stick out your tongue,” he said. Jack obeyed. +“It’s black. You’re lying, you don’t love me at all.” + +Jack began to laugh. Suddenly they forgot Beebo. It was the wonderful +selfishness of love that swept them out of her world into their own; the +selfishness that friends can only envy and forgive. + +Beebo stood up after a while and wandered into the bedroom, wanting to +give them some privacy and herself some relief from their pleasure. She +lay down on the bed and saw Venus on the ceiling; shut her eyes and saw +Paula and felt the tears start again. She stuffed her face into the +pillow, beating it and crying Paula’s name. But when the fit passed, it +was still Venus for whom her limbs ached and body burned; Venus whose +face flamed in her brain and made her heart race. + +Before she slept she thought of Jack and Pat, facing up to their love at +last, and knew she had to move out. Yesterday she could have gone to +Paula, even if it was premature. Today, there was again no place to go. + + * * * * * + +Beebo drove the truck to work with a thundering headache. She felt cut +off from home and help; cut out—halfway at least—from Jack’s life. Venus +wanted her to come back but only, Beebo was sure, to entertain herself. +Paula wanted her, but to smother her with a love she couldn’t honestly +accept, much as she respected and even wanted it. + +At the shop she handed Venus’s autograph to Pete Pasquini. “Something +for your memory book,” she said darkly. + +He looked at it disinterestedly. “So how come you’re so cheerful this +morning? Didn’t she throw nothing at you last night? She got a good +right hand, that one.” + +“She said to tell you she’s sorry,” Beebo said, refusing to look at him +while she worked. + +“Yeah? I think you’re the one who’s sorry. You didn’t do so good, hm?” + +Beebo lifted a heavy can of peeled tomatoes, almost persuaded to heave +it, when Marie’s voice broke in. “Beebo—a visitor. A young lady.” + +Beebo put the can down, and a hand to her head. _Paula. Holy God! I +can’t face her._ But she had to. She walked slowly to the front of the +store, aware that Pete was trailing her at a discreet distance. + +A tall dark-haired girl wheeled around and took off a pair of showy +sunglasses. “Hello, Beebo,” she said. It was Mona. + +Beebo could find nothing to say. Even “hello” was too much of a +courtesy. + +“I want some groceries. Over there on the counter—I’ve got most of them. +I’m taking them to Paula. She didn’t feel much like going out today ... +for some reason.” + +The thought of Paula, defenseless against Mona, was enough to crowd +Beebo’s reluctance to see her little redhead right out of her mind. +“I’ll take them over. I was going to see her at lunchtime anyway,” she +said. + +“I’m sure it’ll come as a surprise to Paula,” Mona observed, smiling at +a display of spinach noodles. + +Pete heard it and laughed his oily mirth to the canned fruits in the +next aisle. Beebo wanted to strangle him. She shoved Mona’s five-dollar +bill back at her and put the food for Paula on a shelf behind the +counter. Mona had that high color on her face brought up by the +excitement of willful malevolence. “I hear you and Pete are getting to +be regular cronies,” she said in a syrupy voice. “Isn’t he a ray of +sunshine, though?” + +“You ought to know. He’s your sunshine, not mine,” Beebo said briefly. + +“Pretty noble of you to pay for the groceries,” Mona said, sliding the +bill back into her purse. “On your salary.” She gave Beebo a provocative +stare that reminded them both of the night they met at the Colophon. A +warm feeling arose in Beebo that was strictly physical and angered her. + +Mona slunk down Pete’s aisle and Beebo heard them murmuring together. +From the back of the shop she could see Pete making animated gestures as +he told Mona something. Marie came out of the kitchen a minute to glance +at them. “Ain’t that a pretty sight?” she said in a caustic whisper to +Beebo. “The ‘Happiness Kids’ Jack calls ’em. They was made for each +other, them two.” + +Beebo had to grin at the spunky little Frenchwoman. + +Pete didn’t let Mona leave till he heard the motor of Beebo’s truck +starting in the delivery yard. Beebo was backing out when he caught her. +He put his head in the cab, forcing her to stop. + +“Well?” she said impatiently. + +“Bogardus just calls in,” he said. “For tonight—lasagna. You can +deliver; I want no more in the face.” He waited for her reply, but she +was gazing through the windshield, seeing nothing but that face, that +face. So fair. So unfair! Pete slapped her knee and made her start. “You +alive?” he said. + +“I hear you.” + +Pete squeezed her knee—the kind of grip known as a horse bite. It hurts +and it tickles at the same time. Beebo wrenched her leg away and the +truck lurched backward. Pete leaped agilely out of the way, laughing at +her disgusted curse. + +She drove off fuming, wondering what it was about him that made her +think, when they met, that he never laughed. She would damn well quit, +whether she had another job or not. But then she saw herself, jobless +and homeless at one stroke. Everything had seemed so right and easy just +a few weeks ago. Everything now seemed bewilderingly bleak. + + * * * * * + +She spent an hour with Paula at lunchtime, trying to explain by fits and +starts how she had made friends with Toby, talked to Venus about him, +and got home late, too tired to call. + +“I’m sorry,” Beebo said, her voice soft with embarrassment. “That was +plain selfishness. Please eat, honey; I brought you all this good food.” + +“Because Mona Petry told you I was staying at home today.” Paula put a +bite in her mouth as if it were a ball of cotton. There was little more +said, and the silences between words became unbearable. They did not +make love, they didn’t laugh. Beebo’s lapse of the previous night hung +between them like a fog. She was almost too inhibited when it was time +to go to kiss Paula. At last she leaned over and gave her a shy peck on +the cheek. Paula accepted it with solemn dignity, but would not return +it. + +“May I see you tonight?” Beebo said. + +“If you think you can put up with my mood.” + +“I’m afraid the mood is my fault. Let me come over, please, Paula.” + +Paula gave her a faint smile. “I won’t be very nice to you,” she said. + +It was the first of many quiet cool nights, when Paula’s intense desire +for Beebo, and Beebo’s unadmitted desire for Venus, kept them restrained +and doubtful with each other. + + * * * * * + +Beebo picked Toby up the next day and spent the afternoon with him. He +turned into a handy helper, carrying orders with her and keeping her +busy with his talk. He was interested, as a child five years younger +might have been, in the panorama of the city, especially the areas that +were new to him. Though he lived there much of the time, he saw very +little of New York. + +He would fire a broadside of questions at Beebo and leave her wallowing +in his wake, searching for answers, while he hurried on to set up the +next bunch. Fortunately, it seemed more important to him to be able to +ask than to get answers. Beebo didn’t want to disappoint him with her +ignorance. + +They became quite good friends in the following few weeks, and to +Beebo’s surprise, they accomplished it without any sideline coaching +from Venus. Venus, in fact, stayed out of sight, though she kept on +ordering from Marie Pasquini. And Beebo, knowing as Toby did not, that +Venus was sacrificing her pleasure for his sake, was grateful to her. + +Beebo dreaded facing her, even though it seemed inevitable sooner or +later. And when it happened, Beebo foresaw her relationship with Paula +going down the drain; her friendship with Toby smashed; and her +self-respect, already slipping, destroyed completely. + +It was something to be spared the encounter for a while. Everything in +Beebo’s life felt very temporary and precarious to her. But at least she +had a breathing space, a time to test her feelings before they were +exposed to others. + +Alone, she was miserable with the problems of where to live, who to live +with, how to control her urgent new emotions. But with Toby, she forgot +a little and studied his troubles instead. They kidded each other and +they laughed a lot. And they talked. At first it was mostly about +guns—Toby’s forte; or horses—Beebo’s. Boy talk. Getting-to-know-you +talk. The necessary preliminaries to a heart-to-heart. And it did Beebo +as much good as it did Toby. + +When they first met, Toby had blurted some awkward and ugly things to +Beebo about his life with Venus. He seized upon her empathy for him and +used it brashly because for all he knew he would see her once and never +again. And it might be years before somebody else came along who seemed +able to understand it. It had to be someone Toby instinctively liked and +respected or it wouldn’t ease his troubled young heart to bare it. So +Beebo was special and he had grabbed her and said too much too fast. + +So he back-pedaled into gun-talk, horse-talk, horseplay, and finally +friendship, now that he could approach it more slowly. A little at a +time, he unbent with her. He told her about the girls he knew in +Bel-Air, California, where they lived when Venus was working in a film. + +“I love it out there,” he said. “We have five horses. Leo rides with me. +You’d love it. Say, maybe you could come out and take care of them for +us. You know all about it from your dad. It’s too bad other girls are so +square. You know, I took one riding once, and she was scared to death.” + +“You just got the wrong one,” Beebo said. “Lots of girls like to ride.” + +“Not the ones I know,” he said. “Or if they like to ride, they don’t +like me.” + +“You haven’t looked around enough.” + +“It’s embarrassing,” Toby said. “The dumb ones can’t talk to you about +anything. And if you find a decent one, you can’t talk to _her_. It’s +awful.” He smiled ruefully while Beebo laughed at him, and then added, +“Why can a guy talk to other guys but not to girls?” + +“You talk to me,” she said. + +“You’re different,” Toby said, with no inkling that he might have +scraped a sore spot. He meant it as a compliment and she took it that +way. “I don’t think I’ll ever love a girl, Beebo. You can’t trust them.” + +“You think they’re all like your mother,” Beebo told him. + +“They are.” + +“No more than all men are the same.” + +“According to my mother, all men are dirty dogs. That includes me. +Sometimes I think the reason she named me Toby was because it makes me +sound like an alley cat. Toby the Cat, and Leo the Lion. What a zoo she +lives with. I wonder why she didn’t name me Fido. She treats me like a +hound most of the time.” + +“Hey, buddy,” Beebo said. “Maybe she’s mixed up but she’s still your +mother. You know what we talked about that day when I was there? How +much she loves you. She cried because you don’t believe her.” + +Toby pressed his lips together, unwilling to concede a single virtue to +Venus. “My name isn’t Bogardus,” he said finally. “It’s Henderson.” + +“Your mother loves you, Toby Henderson.” + +“My father lives in Chicago. Were you ever there? He runs a dairy +processing plant in Gary, Indiana. I’ve never met him and I never want +to.” + +Beebo was shocked. After a moment she said, “Well, maybe you can’t love +somebody you don’t know, even if he is your father. But aren’t you +curious?” + +“Oh, he’s probably a dirty dog like the rest of us. At least if I never +meet him, I can pretend he’s something better.” + +Beebo felt a stinging sympathy for him. “My father means a lot to me,” +she said. + +“How come you don’t live with him, then? You said he lived in Wisconsin. +Did you run away, Beebo? You’re awful young to be on your own here. How +come?” + +He had scored a bull’s eye. She wondered how many years of lonely +introspection it had cost Toby to become that perceptive; that quick to +see the truth beneath the social tricks. + +“I had some tough problems, Toby,” she said. She was suddenly so grave +that he retreated from the subject, afraid of hurting her. Beebo was +thinking what it would do to him to know that she was a Lesbian; how +desperately he would worry about her and his mother. + +“I’m not the dope Mom thinks I am,” he declared. “You can talk to me.” + +“No, you’re no dope, but I am, for running away. And I’ll tell you +something, buddy. Fathers are something special. Even yours.” + +“Sure. He and Mom got together and manufactured me. Something special. A +gorilla could have done the job better, Mom says. Or a test tube. +Sometimes I think that’d be okay—a test tube. Then I’d never even have +to know his name.” + +Beebo felt a little like crying. But it would ruin her prestige with +him. She swallowed and said, “He must write to you. Send you birthday +presents, and things.” + +“The only present he ever gave me was epilepsy,” Toby said in a flinty +voice. “Mom says it came from his side of the family. So I haven’t much +to thank him for. Do you know what that is—epilepsy?” He had said the +word so many times there was no longer any drama in it for him. + +“Your Mom told me,” Beebo said. “Does it ... make things rough for you? +Like at school, with the other kids?” + +“Not too bad,” he said. But she looked at his face and thought +differently. It had made him shy and apologetic about himself, and +consequently, fiercely defensive. At any time, he might become a major +source of inconvenience or even panic to his schoolmates, though the +seizures hit him infrequently in their presence. Still, it was those +times he remembered better than any others. + +“Leo is good about it,” Toby said. “He’s a pretty good guy. I’d rather +have him around than Mrs. Sack, even.” + +“What’s Leo like?” Beebo said, suddenly afire to know. + +“He stands up to Mom, if that’s what you mean. She hates him, naturally, +but she respects him. Leo gave her her name. He knew her before anybody +else in Hollywood. He was her agent, and he got her started.” + +“What’s her real name?” + +“Jean Jacoby.” + +“That’s pretty ... why won’t Leo divorce her?” + +“He really loves her, I guess. Boy, what a glutton for punishment,” Toby +marveled. + +“If she hates him, why did she marry him?” + +“Oh, she talked herself into a crush on all her husbands,” Toby said, +and Beebo wondered who had explained it all to him with such authority +... Leo? Mrs. Sack? “They were all rich and good looking and married to +somebody else till she came along. I think it was sort of a challenge.” + +Beebo absorbed this in silence, disapproving and yet oddly amused. “What +does Leo do?” She pictured him as a sort of legitimatized gigolo for his +stunning wife. + +“He’s a director now. He directs all her films. That’s why people think +she’s an actress. He can get a performance out of her nobody else can. +She hates to admit it, but she loves her reviews. If they ever did get +divorced, she’d have to let him keep on directing.” His words made Leo +Bogardus seem like more of a man than Beebo would have liked. She +lighted a cigarette. + +“Hey, can I have one too?” Toby said, with the light of friendly +collusion in his eyes. “It’s okay, I’ve smoked before.” + +She handed him her pack. “I’m contributing to the delinquency of a +minor, you know,” she grinned. “It’s your fault, buddy. You’d better +kick the habit before they haul me in.” + +He did not inhale the smoke, but he was very pleased with himself, and +with Beebo. He held the cigarette in a self-conscious imitation of a +man’s gesture, taking a cautious mouthful occasionally and blowing it +out with dreamy satisfaction. + +“Do you get along with Leo, Toby?” Beebo asked. + +“He’s been real decent to me. He does things with me, even when they’re +things I don’t want to do. It’s nice of him ... you know? And sometimes +I end up liking the things I didn’t think I would. It’s funny ... he +tries to make them interesting. I guess you could say I like him.” + +Beebo grinned at him, impressed by his adolescent acuity; and aware, +despite his wary phrasing, that Leo was quite an influence in his life. +“You’re pretty grown up for your age, aren’t you?” she said seriously, +and made him smile at the flattery. + +But his answer startled her. “I had to grow up,” he said, “with men +climbing in and out of Mom’s bed while I played on the floor with my +blocks.” + +“God! Was it that bad?” Beebo said. + +“They all thought I’d be the best adjusted kid for miles around,” he +said with psychological detachment into a cloud of very grown-up smoke. +“I don’t know why all that stuff should embarrass me now that I’m nearly +fifteen. I used to sit there and watch the whole show when I was +little.” His face lengthened. “It never got to me then.” + +Beebo saw the resentment on his face flash and alternate with confusion, +even love, for Venus. She wondered how much Venus was trying to show her +love for him these days, and if it was making Toby all the more +suspicious of her. + +“Toby,” Beebo said. “Do you know that Venus is kind of afraid of you?” + +He turned his face away. + +“She wants you to know she loves you, but she’s afraid you’ll think +she’s kidding after all these years.” + +“She’s right.” + +“Maybe now that she’s trying to say it, you could listen,” Beebo +suggested casually. + +Toby gave a deep sigh. “I guess that’s what she’s been doing all week,” +he said. “She keeps saying she has something to say but she never says +anything.” He returned Beebo’s gaze, his blue eyes, so like his +mother’s, pained and puzzled. “I don’t care how she says it, if only she +means it. I was lousy to her because whenever I try to tell her +something, she’s lousy to me. I wanted to get back at her.” + +“You’ve only got one mother, Toby. You’ve got to make the best of her. I +wouldn’t care so much what my mother was like, if I’d only known her. +She died when I was young.” + +Toby pondered this a while, and then said, “If you ever run away again, +I’ll go with you.” It was not an offer, it was a request—a plea. + +“You’re welcome aboard,” she smiled. + + * * * * * + +Venus was waiting for them outside the elevator door in the service +entrance, one early evening in the first week of September. Strangely, +Beebo wasn’t surprised. It had been coming for weeks, and now she had to +face it. + +Toby grimaced at his mother, and Beebo handed her the carton of +home-cooked food. “Here’s your dinner,” she said. “Mrs. Pasquini +appreciates all the orders.” + +“You might as well keep it, she never eats it,” Toby revealed. “She just +orders it to keep you coming over.” + +“Sh!” Venus exclaimed at him. She was wearing a bright-blue knit dress, +into which her famous frame was smoothly slipped; a glowing target for +the eyes. + +“Toby says you’re a good driver,” Venus said. “Now I suppose he’ll +pester Leo to teach him when we get home.” + +“You know I can’t drive, Mom,” he said wearily. “They don’t give +licences to epileptics.” + +“Well, we’ll talk to the governor, darling,” she said. + +“Besides, what do you mean ‘home’? California?” He looked at her +suddenly, brightening. “I thought we were going to be here all winter.” + +Beebo felt almost dizzy at the thought of losing Venus before she had +won her. It was too much to bear. Everything went wrong in bunches. +“Home?” she repeated, frowning at Venus. + +“Well, you both look as if I had dropped a bomb,” Venus declared. “I +just thought, with Toby’s friends in California, and all those miserable +horses and sunshine and ocean ... I guess I can put up with the smog.” + +“Mom, that’s great,” he said, surprise all over his face. “Are you doing +a new picture?” + +“No, darling. I’m turning over a new leaf,” she said. + +They looked at each other and Beebo sensed an awkward rapport between +them. After a decent pause she said, “Well—have a good trip, you two. I +guess I won’t be seeing you again, Toby.” + +He turned to her in consternation, and Venus said, “Don’t be silly, +darling. I have some lovely martinis all ready upstairs and a perfectly +irresistible business proposition for you.” + +“Business?” Beebo said. + +Toby made a face. “Monkey business,” he said. “Can you walk on your +hands, Beebo?” + +“Hush, darling,” Venus said, pulling them both into the elevator. “Not +until she’s had her martini.” + +Toby had a distant look on his face on the way up. “I’ll have to write +to everybody,” he said. “So they’ll know I’m coming.” + + * * * * * + +Beebo let herself be led into the living room, full of sharp doubts that +made her jumpy. Venus watched Toby go with a smile. “He’ll be busy for +hours,” she told Beebo. “He rewrites all his letters two or three times. +You’d think he was going to publish them someday.” + +Beebo sat down on a long white sofa and accepted a martini with an +unsteady hand. The trembling had started already, and it seemed +impossible to talk or act like a normal human being. + +But Venus, who was more of a sorceress than a goddess, talked softly to +her for half an hour, letting the drinks and her own silvery charm relax +her guest. Even then, Beebo looked so gloomy that Venus began to chuckle +at her. She refilled their glasses and asked her, “Do you hate yourself +for coming up tonight?” + +“Not as much as I hate you for asking me,” Beebo said. + +“Be fair now, darling,” Venus chided. “I’m not responsible for your +weakness, am I?” + +“You know damn well you are,” Beebo said. And in the pause that followed +she felt that if she didn’t escape now, she never would. “I’m sorry, +it’s not your fault,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “I guess +you were born with—all that.” She couldn’t look at “all that” while she +spoke of it. + +“No, I had to grow it, darling. Took me 15 years, and it was a hell of a +wait.” + +Beebo moved to the edge of the sofa when Venus joined her. “Were you a +poor proud orphan till some movie scout discovered you?” + +“Oh, God no!” Venus laughed. “My family was solid apple pie. The trouble +was, I was always so damn beautiful I never had a chance to be normal.” +She spoke dispassionately, as if she were analyzing a friend. It wasn’t +snobbish. “I was supposed to be fast and loose because I looked it. At +first the attention spoiled me. I was cocky. A candy-box valentine brat +with corkscrew curls—my mother’s pride and joy. Until I drove her +frantic, and my friends out of my life. Nobody could stand me. +_Honestly._ You laugh, but I cried when it happened. I couldn’t +understand why I was alone all of a sudden. + +“I got shy and scared. Went my own way and told the world to go to hell. +After a while, when my figure caught up with my face, I made some new +friends: boys. It was so easy to give in. So hard to be anything but +what people thought you were,” she said, and Beebo responded with a +startled swell of sympathy. “Well, in a phrase, they made me what I am +today: a conniving bitch.” Venus spoke defiantly ... and regretfully. + +“I’m not proud of it, but I want to be truthful with you. You’re a +sweetheart, Beebo. And very young, and maybe not too experienced. Tell +me why you’ve made Toby come up alone with the food all these weeks. Did +you think I’d throw spaghetti at you?” + +Beebo took a swallow of her drink. “I don’t want to crawl, Venus. I +don’t want to be hurt,” she said harshly, defending herself with painful +honesty in lieu of a worldly white lie. + +“Nobody does,” Venus said. “Were you expecting to be?” + +“Isn’t that what you want?” Beebo said, looking deep into her ice cubes. +“To play games?” + +Venus touched a finger to Beebo’s cheek. “You’re not crawling,” she +said. “You’re being difficult. That’s new for me.” + +“Is playing around with girls new for you, too?” Beebo asked, afraid to +know the answer. + +“Depends on how you mean it,” Venus said. “You don’t trust me, do you?” +She smiled. + +Beebo caught Venus’s hand as it caressed her cheek and kissed it warmly. +And remembered with sudden sadness the way Paula had done that to her +when they met. She put Venus’s hand down gingerly on the sofa. + +Venus let her sit and stew for a minute and then slipped across the +cushion toward her. Their faces were very near and Venus put her +rejected hand on Beebo’s leg. “I’m trying to give myself to you and you +won’t have me,” she said. “Now who’s crawling?” She let her other hand, +cool and questing, touch Beebo’s neck and slip over her shoulder, +drawing fire with it. + +“You’re putting me on,” Beebo said, determinedly suspicious as only the +young and uncertain can be. She took a deep breath. “But I don’t care,” +she cried suddenly. “I don’t care. I’ll have you any way I can.” She put +her head down and kissed Venus’s throat, putting her arms around her and +grasping her firmly. Venus leaned against her, warm and willow-supple. + +“You want to know how it feels, don’t you?” Beebo said, trying to hurt +her feelings, so sure Venus would hurt Beebo first if she could. “You +want to know what it’s like for a girl to hold you instead of a man. Any +time you get bored, let me know.” She bent to kiss her again but Venus +stopped her. She was dismayed, and Beebo was ashamed to see it. + +“You really _do_ hate me, don’t you?” Venus said. + +Beebo closed her eyes for a minute. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She felt +Venus moving in her arms. “I thought you were bored and frigid. Taking +me like a prescription, or something. The way you talked—” + +“The way I talked about _men_, not women. Beebo, do you know something? +I was scared to death you’d take one look at this face of mine, panic, +and run out.” Her hands slid around Beebo’s back and into her short dark +hair. + +Beebo’s face turned hot while those hands trailed softly through her +hair and over her eyes. “You’re superb, Beebo,” Venus said. “I think I’m +the one who’s afraid. I wouldn’t be if I knew you better. And myself.” + +“You know more than I know,” Beebo said. “Is this all a joke, Venus?” + +Venus hushed her by pulling her down and kissing her mouth, and her +tenderness was no pleasantry. Beebo kissed back: Venus’s face, her ears, +her pale throat, till Venus made her stop, shaking her curls to be let +loose, and laughing. + +“Who the hell am I,” Beebo exclaimed, “that you should kiss me like +this?” + +Venus caught her breath. “You talk to me as if I were a woman,” she said +at last, gratefully. “Not a goddess, or a bitch. It hurts a little, but +it feels good to hurt like that. Like when you’re awfully young and you +have a beautiful dreamy pain to cry over.” + +Beebo rubbed her head back and forth in the cradle of Venus’s shoulder. +“Did you cry over your dreams like other girls, Venus?” + +“I cried, but not like other girls. I never did anything like other +girls. I never even looked like them.” + +“Would you rather be plain?” Beebo asked. + +Venus looked away and found the dignity to be honest. “No,” she said. +“It’s a funny thing about women and me. Half the time I want to make +them weep with despair over my beauty. And the other half I ache to be +friends with them. Accepted. All the things I wasn’t when I was growing +up. My whole world is men. They’re the only friends I have, and they +aren’t really friends at all. Not with a woman like me. The women close +to me are either fat and old, like Mrs. Sack, or homely and heartless, +like Miss Pinch.” + +“The cook? Is that her name?” Beebo gave in to laughter that relieved +her tenseness a little. + +“I know, it’s too good to be true,” Venus said. “Leo started calling her +that, and it caught on. I fire her regularly but she comes back like a +bad dream. She’s devoted to Leo.” + +Beebo put her head down so she could talk without exposing her emotions +to Venus’s eyes. “Do you miss having a woman in your life?” she asked. + +“Yes. The right kind. Somebody cultured and intelligent and +well-educated. Somebody to teach me things. I’m so damned stupid.” + +Beebo gave a short wry laugh. “Venus? I think there’s something you +should know.” + +“What?” + +“I didn’t finish high school.” + +Venus laughed, a charming sound, full of pleasure. “I thought you meant, +did I want a secretary, or something,” she said. + +“I’ll bet you did.” Beebo sat up and lowered herself to the floor, where +she leaned back on the sofa, locking her fingers around her knees. She +felt Venus’s hand come down to play with her ear. + +“Did I say something wrong, darling?” Venus said. + +“Not a thing. Just that for a girl who likes girls, you did a damn queer +thing marrying six men,” Beebo said. + +Venus answered pensively. “I kept thinking one of the six would set me +straight somehow,” she said. + +Beebo felt those lovely hands in her hair, and she looked over at the +kitchen door. It was about thirty feet away ... thirty miles, it seemed. + +“You’ve got such soft hair, Beebo,” Venus said, and she leaned down and +kissed the crown of Beebo’s head, and then lifted her face and kissed +everything upside-down from her perch on the couch. “You kiss me so +gently,” she said. “I never knew a lover so gentle before. There isn’t a +man alive who could come near you.” And she kissed Beebo again till +Beebo reached up from the floor and caught Venus’s breasts in her hands, +returning the kiss with a young warmth that struck sparks in Venus. +Beebo held her hard and groaned, “Don’t, don’t, you don’t know what it’s +doing to me. Oh, God ... oh, please....” + +“Do you still think I don’t know?” Venus said. “Don’t you understand by +now I’m not doing this for kicks? Or to hurt you? Or God knows what +other medieval torments you imagined? I think you’re amazing. Exciting. +Adorable. Did you think I’d never tried it before with a woman? I’ve +tried everything, darling. Everything but corpses, anyway.” + +“Oh, Venus, Venus—” + +“Hush, I’ll explain. You see, it was always so rotten with men. It was +as good as it ever got with a girl. But never this good.” Her directness +threw Beebo emotionally offstride. “I kept thinking it should be. If men +were so bad there had to be something else worth living for. So I kept +looking. But I have to be so damn careful. Whatever I do is news.” + +Beebo looked at her and saw tears on her cheeks. “My daydreams were +always better than my life,” Venus whispered, “and when you reach that +point, you’re in trouble. All the money in the world can’t make those +dreams real.” She brushed lightly at the tears, embarrassed by them. + +“I was wild when that dreadful Pasquini came up here,” she said. “I’d +been looking forward to seeing you all day. After he left, I began to +think maybe his coming was a sign that I should give you up while I +still could. An affair between us would seem like the world’s worst +cliché: the jaded vamp seducing the innocent girl for the sake of a few +cheap kicks.” She sat silent a moment and then she smiled at Beebo. + +“Do you know what Miss Pinch said after you left? She came marching in +and announced that you were a dyke and Pat was a queen.” + +“Miss _Pinch_ said that?” Beebo said, and laughed at the incongruity of +it. + +“Well, she put it a little differently. She said, ‘The dark young +gentleman was a female and the blond young gentleman was a lady, if you +know what I mean, ma’am.’” + +They laughed together and Beebo felt suddenly close to Venus; her fear +had vanished. “The only thing I worry about is, Miss Pinch might tell +Leo,” Venus said. “It makes him simply wild when I take up with a girl.” + +“Do you take them up often?” Beebo asked, looking down. + +Venus shook her head without answering. It was a wordless admission of +her loneliness and frustration; as great, in its way, as Toby’s. Beebo +got up on her knees and encircled Venus’s waist. “Venus, darling,” she +said softly, hesitantly. “I love you so much. I can’t understand this +thing. I thought you were—all glittery and cold. I thought we’d finally +climb into bed, and you’d kill me with your laughter. And then to have +you like this! God, I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s so crazy. Venus, +Venus, I adore you.” She began to kiss her again and Venus let herself +be pulled off the sofa and into Beebo’s arms, giving in a bit at a time, +so that Beebo was trembling and wild-eyed one moment, and overwhelming +Venus the next. + +She had just enough sense to pick Venus up moments later and carry her +to the bedroom, through the overstated boudoir, and out of the sight of +Toby and the women. She laid Venus down on the blue silk coverlet of her +bed, leaning over her with her fists planted in the mattress. + +“This is where I do my dreaming,” Venus told her. “I take off my clothes +and lie down here and tell myself beautiful crazy stories. I’ve been +doing it for years.” + +“Who do you dream about?” Beebo asked. + +“Who do you think?” Venus smiled. “God, you’re so tall for a girl. So +tanned and strong. Like a boy.” + +“I hate to think of you all alone on that blue silk, wanting me,” Beebo +said. “And me out delivering salami.” + +“And talking to Toby,” Venus said. + +“That means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” + +“Everything,” Venus admitted. “I can’t tell you how much. I can talk to +him now without screaming at him. I owe that to you, Beebo.” + +Instead of accepting the compliment gracefully, Beebo stared moodily out +the window. “Are you keeping me around so you won’t lose Toby again? I +don’t want to find myself pounding on your locked door the day you learn +you can talk to him without me.” + +“What does it take to make you trust a girl, Beebo?” Venus teased. + +“I guess I never will trust you—quite,” Beebo said truthfully. “You’re +too good to be true.” + +Venus pulled her head down on the pillow and asked seriously, “How many +people know you have a crush on me? Don’t fib, darling. I have a special +reason for wanting to know.” + +Beebo gritted her teeth together a moment before she answered. “My +roommate. His name is Jack Mann. He’s gay, too. He’s the best friend I +ever had and I trust him more than I trust myself.” + +“Who else? Pasquini?” + +“No,” Beebo said, lying forcefully with the sudden knowledge that Venus +was trying to decide how dangerous their affair could be. The safer it +seemed to her, the better the chances she would keep Beebo with her ... +perhaps even take her to the West Coast. + +“How about this girl who’s in love with you?” Venus said. + +“She’s not in love with me. It’s a crush,” Beebo said, ashamed of the +betrayal but unable to help herself. “She’ll get over it.” + +“Do girls ever get over their crushes on you?” Venus said. + +“Every day,” Beebo protested. “Venus ... would you ever lock me out ... +if people knew?” + +Venus rolled away from her, sitting halfway up. Her face was dark. “I’d +have to,” she said. “For Toby, if for no other reason. And even without +him, there’s my career. It’s my life, my anchor. I can’t afford to +jeopardize it, especially now that I’m thirty-eight.” She glanced at +Beebo. “Is that unforgivably selfish of me? Don’t answer. It is, of +course. I want you, and all the rest, too. And that means you’re the one +who’d have to sacrifice. It’s just that ... for some people a job is a +job. For me, it’s self-respect. Acting is about the only thing I’ve done +in my life I’m not ashamed of. Is it too much to ask, Beebo—secrecy?” + +“Is it possible?” Beebo said. + +Venus nodded. “There are ways. I’ve had to learn them.” + +“With the other girls,” Beebo said resentfully. + +Venus stroked her shoulder. “You don’t have to be jealous,” she said. “I +do.” + +“I’m jealous of all your husbands. All your lovers, male and female. +Every slob who ever saw you in a movie.” + +Venus chuckled, letting her tripping voice twist her body back and forth +on the blue silk, and Beebo suddenly forgot everything in her life that +had preceded this moment. She lunged across the bed and caught Venus by +the wrist, whirling her around just as Venus got to her feet. + +For an instant they stayed as they were, breathless: Beebo stretched out +the length of the bed, looking at Venus with her blue eyes shining like +a cat’s. Venus could feel the avalanche of passionate force trapped +inside Beebo, ready to burst free at the flip of a finger. Already it +was near exploding. + +Venus stood there pulling against Beebo; warm, even hot to the point of +perspiring. The light sweat excited Beebo far more than the perfume +Venus usually wore. Her body was a soft pearly peach and between her +breasts Beebo could see the quivering lift and fall of her sternum. + +Beebo gave a swift tug on Venus’s arm and brought her tumbling down on +the bed, laughing. That laugh sprang the switch in Beebo. She stopped it +with her mouth pressed on Venus’s. And at last Venus submitted, all the +twisting and teasing melting out of her. She let herself be kissed all +over. + +Beebo looked at her, stripped of the tinseled make-believe and the +wisecracks; her lips parted and her eyes shut and her fine dark hair +spilling pins over the pillow, coming down almost deliberately to work +its witchery. Beebo kissed handfuls of it. + +She fell asleep a long time later, still murmuring to Venus, still +holding her possessively close, still wondering what she had done—or +would have to do—to deserve it. + + * * * * * + +They were shaken out of sleep by the shrill ringing of the blue phone by +Venus’s bed. Venus answered sleepily, pulling the receiver onto the +pillow by her ear where she lay across Beebo’s chest. + +But she came awake fast. + +It was Leo Bogardus, calling from Hollywood. Beebo opened her eyes and +watched while Venus flushed with wrath and suddenly burst into furious +tears, threatening to hitchhike for Reno if she had to. + +When she had slammed the phone down she told Beebo angrily that Leo had +signed her to a television special series called, “Million Dollar Baby.” + +“I’m the Baby, but I’ll never see the million bucks,” she cried. “God, I +hate TV! You get overexposed, underpaid, and worked to death. And all +the lousy profit goes to the lousy sponsors.” + +Beebo stroked her and tried to calm her. After a while Venus sat still, +her head in her hands. “Will you really go to Reno?” Beebo asked. + +“No,” she sighed. “He won’t give me a divorce. I’ve tried everything.... +I’ll go to Hollywood. I have no choice, Beebo. That’s where they’re +going to film this little horror.” + +“Well, you were going anyway, for Toby.” + +“But not _this_ soon! God damn that Leo! Well, at least I asked Toby +first. I tried to do it right.” + +“How soon is _this_ soon?” Beebo asked disconsolately. + +“Tonight, if I can get reservations.” + +Beebo sat up in a mood of defiance. “Venus, you can’t—” + +“I have to, darling. Leo has ways of forcing me. Besides, I knew he’d +been talking about this for months. But I didn’t think it would come so +soon.” She glanced at Beebo and suddenly turned halfway around to kiss +her mouth, startling Beebo. + +“Is that goodby?” Beebo said, so coldly that Venus smiled at her. + +“I told you I had a business proposition for you, you wicked child,” she +said. “And it’s a damn good thing, or I could never explain to Toby why +you spent the night. I’m going in right now and mess up the guest room. +Bring your clothes.” + +Beebo pulled some of them on en route to the guest room. “What +proposition?” she demanded, full of new hopes. + +“Would you like to work for me?” Venus said, turning down the covers of +the extra bed. She had thrown her negligee around herself. + +“As what?” Beebo said. “Your companion?” + +“No. Toby’s. He says you know horses. Maybe you could work in the +stables.” She spiraled the sheets around on the bed and dumped a pillow +on the floor. “That should do it.... Well, don’t stand there, darling, +go home and pack,” she said, glancing up at her astonished guest. “I +want you back here before six tonight. There’s a flight at eight I can +usually get seats on. What’s the matter, don’t you want to go?” + +“I—yes—I do,” Beebo stammered. + +“Well, go, darling. Go, go, go!” Venus said, clapping her hands under +Beebo’s nose and laughing. “And don’t talk about it!” she hissed at +Beebo’s retreating back. “To _anybody_!” + + * * * * * + +Beebo drove downtown in a fog of confusion. After the first shock of +flattered pleasure died away, she found herself preoccupied with Paula; +so concerned, so anxious, that there were tears in her eyes she had to +keep squeezing away, just to see the traffic ahead of her. + +She would stop at Paula’s apartment before she left. She had to. It was +one thing to hurt somebody, but to do it like a snake, striking and +slipping away before the victim knows what hit her—or who, or how—was +beyond Beebo. She would tell Paula the truth herself, however much it +cost them both in sorrow and resentment. + + * * * * * + +Beebo returned the Pasquinis’ truck, hoping to escape unnoticed. But +Pete was lying in wait for her. + +“So, you brought it back!” he said, grinning at her like a slick little +fox. “We thought maybe you was taking a vacation in it.” + +“It’s your truck,” she said, getting down. “I don’t want the damn +thing.” She turned to look at him. “I—uh ... I’m quitting, Pete. I got +another job.” + +“No kidding.” He picked his teeth without disturbing the leer on his +face. “Walking the dog for some swell lady?” + +“I’ve had it with dogs,” Beebo shot back. “I’ve been working for one all +summer.” + +Pete left the pick in his teeth in order to fold his arms over his chest +in imitation of Beebo when she was insulted. “So, Beebo,” he said +softly. “You don’t like it here with us no more?” + +“You tell Marie I’m sorry,” Beebo said. “I like her fine.” + +“Sure you do, sweetheart. She wears a skirt,” he said, rocking back and +forth on his heels, needling her skillfully. + +Beebo felt her temper expanding in her like hot air. It would have +relieved her hugely to have punched him where it would hurt the worst. +But that was no way to solve any problems—especially not with this +covert, twisted young man who was trying to provoke the punch out of her +on purpose. + +“Marie is a friend of mine,” Beebo said stiffly. + +“Meaning I ain’t? Ain’t I been friendly to you, Beebo?” he said, +sauntering toward her. “Well, I can fix that up right now.” And with one +abrupt movement he reached her side and threw her hard against the door +of the truck, pulling her left arm up high in the back in a wrenchingly +painful hammer lock. Beebo gave a gasp of shock and tried to break free. +But for all her size and strength, she was still a girl, and no match +for an angry, jealous man who had been wanting her and wanting to hurt +her since he first saw her. + +He forced his mouth on hers and when she struggled he bit her. She tried +to knee him, and he pulled her arm up so hard they both thought for a +moment he had broken it. Beebo went white with the pain, and leaned +weakly against the door. Pete kissed her again, taking his time and not +trying to unhinge her arm any more. The rough scratch of his whiskers, +and smell of his winy breath, the push of his hard hips, almost made her +faint. + +“Now why do you make me hurt you, Beebo? Why do you do that?” he said in +a tense whisper, as if it were all her fault. “I don’t want to hurt you. +I want to be friends.” He kissed her again. “Don’t that prove it?” + +Beebo knew she was crying with pain and fury and sickness. “Let me go,” +she said hoarsely. She would have screamed if she had had any strength, +but her heart was pounding and she was clammy pale, very near to +toppling over. + +Pete released her suddenly, caught her as she stumbled, and seated her +on the running board. He shoved her head down between her knees till the +blood flow revived her. “You don’t got to put on a show,” he said +irritably. “I know you don’t want it from a man. I know you’re gay, for +chrissakes. That’s one thing I can spot a mile off. I like gay girls, +Beebo, in case you ain’t noticed. I’m on your side. Jesus God, you’d +think I hated you, or something.” + +She looked at him sideways, when she thought she was strong enough to +stomach him. “Get out of my sight, you rotten little creep,” she said. +“Go find Mona. She plays both sides of the street.” + +“Ah, Mona’s a drag,” he said. “She’s got this big thing about putting +you down on account of Paula. And you standing her up that night. I’m +sorry about that, Beebo, it was kind of my fault. It was me at her place +that night.” + +“Oh, God,” Beebo said, and let her head drop into her hands again. “I +should have known.” + +“Well, how am I supposed to know she’s bringing somebody home? I know +this girl for years. I drop in on her when I feel like it.” + +“If you’re so goddamn big with Mona, you call on _her_ when you feel +like it, not me. Don’t you come tomcatting around to me, Pasquini.” She +stood up, weaving slightly, and put a hand on the fender to steady +herself. + +He stood beside her, and she saw that her angry disgust with him was +beginning to annoy him. He wanted a fight—that was part of the build-up +for him. But he wanted an eventual surrender, on his terms. Beebo showed +no signs of yielding and her revulsion for him was plain enough to anger +him. + +“Maybe Mona was right,” he said, his voice getting thin and mean. “Maybe +you need a lesson before you learn what’s good for you.” + +“I don’t need any from you,” Beebo spat at him. “I’m getting out of here +right now, and you’ll never see me again.” + +“I’ll catch up with you one of these days,” he said. “No matter where +you go.” + +“The hell you will. You’re not going to chase me all the way to +California just to kick my can,” Beebo said hotly. But when Pete began +to smile, she rethought her words in sudden panic. + +“California?” Pete grinned. “Well, that’d almost be worth the trip. I +think I’d like it out there. Maybe get another autograph from Venus. +Huh, butch? You could work it for me.” + +Beebo looked at him, her face a mask but her heart dismayed. “You +believe it if you want to,” she said. “If you think I’d work anything +for you, you’re more of a fool than a creep.” + +She turned and ran out of the delivery yard while he watched her. He +didn’t like to let her go. But at least she was leaving a trail behind +her; one that shouldn’t be hard to follow. Pete smiled. + + * * * * * + +Beebo and Pat drank a few parting shots while Beebo packed her +strap-fastened wicker bag and waited for Jack to get home. She was ready +to go and a little tight when he rolled in at five. + +“Having a party?” he asked. + +“A goodby party. I’m getting off your back, Jackson,” Beebo said. “I’m +going to Hollywood.” + +“They were bound to call you sooner or later,” Jack said. “Anyone can +see you’ve got talent.” + +Beebo looked at the floor. “I’m going with Venus,” she said, humiliated +by it. “I didn’t know what else to do, Jack,” she added vehemently. “I +couldn’t live with Paula. I couldn’t live with you, not if I wanted to +keep your friendship. I had to quit the Pasquini job—Pete’s been helling +after me since I started. And besides—besides....” She stopped, throwing +her arms out and letting them drop against her sides. + +“And besides, Venus asked you to go?” Jack said. Beebo nodded. Jack made +no comment, but she knew he thought it was asinine of her. “Did you ever +write to tell your father where you are?” + +“I thought about it, but I didn’t know what to say.” + +“Have you told Paula?” + +“Not yet. I was waiting till you got home.” + +“Paula’s more important.” + +“Jack, damn it, Paula doesn’t own me!” she cried, angry because she knew +he was right. “My father doesn’t own me. I don’t have to tell them every +move I make, just because they—” + +“They love you,” he finished for her. “Listen to me, little pal. You +came to this town to grow up and find yourself. You can do that without +breaking hearts. And so help me, Beebo, the first one you’re going to +break is your own.” + +Beebo sat down on the bed. “Jack, I didn’t ask Paula Ash to love me,” +she said. “I never said I loved _her_.” + +“Well, that makes it all swell.” + +“She’s a sweet, fine girl. I wouldn’t hurt her for anything. But what +can I do?” + +“Shall I give her that message?” Jack asked. + +“I’ll tell her myself!” Beebo said, stung. But she wished, with all the +force of shame and indecision, that she didn’t have to. + +Jack lighted a cigarette thoughtfully. “I’ve gotten to know her a lot +better the last few weeks. She was over last night, when you didn’t show +again. There’s a new girl in her life, Beebo.” He tossed his match in an +ash tray, scrutinizing Beebo’s startled face. “Miss Plaid Pajamas. You +know her?” + +Beebo was shaken. “I know about her,” she said. “Oh, Paula....” She +recalled the sleeping pills, the tears. Paula’s red hair, her scent, her +green eyes luminous with love. She pressed a hand over her mouth, half +to control a sob, half in recollection of Paula’s first gesture of love. + +“Regrets?” Jack said gently. + +Beebo took a deep breath. “It’s Venus I love,” she said softly, but it +was strangely hard to say. + +“Well, that’s that,” Jack said. “Off you go to follow your star.” + +“I can’t help myself,” Beebo said, and that, at least, was true. “I’d +rather cut off my arm than hurt Paula, believe me.” + +Jack smiled and lifted a hand to show he would not sermonize. “I wish +you well, pal. I wish you love,” he said. “I only wish—” + +The phone rang. They all looked at each other. Finally Pat answered it, +while Jack and Beebo watched him. “It’s for you, Beebo,” Pat said, +holding out the receiver. She took it, looking apprehensively at him, +and he mouthed the word, “Paula.” + +She shut her eyes. “Hello?” she said. + +“Hello, Beebo.” + +“Paula, I was just coming over. I—I wanted to tell you....” Her voice +trailed off. + +“I know. I called to wish you Godspeed.” + +“You what?” Beebo wheeled around to look at the two men. + +“Pete called me,” Paula said. “He likes to play town crier.” + +“God damn him!” Beebo exploded. “Paula, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell +you myself, at least. I—what did he say?” + +“He said you were going to California with Venus Bogardus,” Paula said +simply. + +“Is that all?” + +“It doesn’t matter about the rest, Beebo. Pete always exaggerates. I +just wanted to tell you, it’s all right. I think you should go. It’ll be +a great experience.” Her voice faltered ever so slightly, and Beebo +wanted desperately to hold her, to be able to say, “No, I’ll stay with +you,” and somehow still be able to go with Venus. She felt as if she +were being physically ripped in half. + +“I’m not being melodramatic, honest!” Paula said and she managed a small +laugh. “I’m a hopeless optimist. I think you’ll be back. Or I couldn’t +be such a good sport. Mona says ‘good sport’ is just another word for +‘sucker’. She’s wrong, isn’t she? Beebo?” + +“Yes, Paula. She’s wrong, honey.” Beebo felt her own voice break and +Paula said quickly, “Don’t come over, there’s no need. It’s much easier +on the phone. Write to me now and then.” + +“Paula? Is that girl in the plaid pajamas pestering you again?” Beebo +said anxiously. “Jack said—” + +“Jack is my knight in shining armor. If things get bad, he’ll come +rescue me. He has before.” There was a pause. Beebo glanced gratefully +at Jack and then she heard Paula saying, “Goodby, Beebo. Good luck. No, +_bad_ luck, and come home soon. I love you, you know. You worm.” + +“I know.” Beebo swallowed. “Goodby, Paula.” She let the receiver drop +into its cradle and stood with her head against the wall for a minute. + +“You look like you’re set for a real pleasure cruise,” Jack said, noting +her wan face and full eyes. + +Beebo picked up her bag in a brusque motion and strode to the door. But +she couldn’t turn the handle. “Thanks for everything, Jack,” she said, +full of fears at cutting loose from her only friend in the new world. + +“Come back when Venus shows you out,” he said kindly. “Our bunk is your +bunk,” and he put an arm over Pat’s shoulder. + +“She won’t show me out,” Beebo said with what pride she still had. +“Jackson, take care of that Paula for me.” She caught his shoulders in a +hard grip. “I don’t know if I can stand to do this to her.” + +“You’re doing it,” Jack commented. + +Beebo looked at her bag, then grabbed it and ran down the hall and front +steps without daring to look back. + + * * * * * + +Jack shut the door softly and gazed at Pat. “You’re tanked,” he said +indulgently. His thoughts were elsewhere. + +“You didn’t tell her about Pete and Mona,” Pat said. “Why?” + +“She’s going three thousand miles from here. Let’s hope she doesn’t need +to worry about those two twerps any more.” + +“I’ve heard some of their sickening stories about Beebo around the bars +lately,” Pat brooded. + +“Well, don’t give Pete and Mona all the credit,” Jack said shrewdly. +“Not that they ever say anything nice about anybody. But it helps to +have someone else feeding them information.... Somebody whose initials +are Pat Kynaston.” It was as sharp a reproof as Jack had given him. + +“I only say _good_ things about Beebo!” Pat protested, instantly +wounded. “I adore that girl!” + +“I know. Good things. That’s all they need. Somebody in the Cellar heard +you carrying on Tuesday afternoon: Beebo’s father, her home town, even +that thing at the livestock exhibition. You want Pete to hear that, Pat? +Think what he could do with it, if he wanted to.” + +Pat sank dismally to the living room floor. “Lord, I didn’t realize. I +thought I was telling them how great she is. I thought Pete and Mona +were inventing their stuff.” + +“They are, but not all of it. The nearer the truth they can get, the +louder they’ll shout it—screwed around just enough to make Beebo look +like the type of witch decent citizens should spend their Sundays +burning.” + +Pat’s chin trembled. “I could strike myself dumb,” he said bitterly. + +Jack sat down and put an arm around him. “Just watch it, lover. She’s +put herself in a spot to be crucified, if Pete has anything against her +... and Mona already has, or thinks she has. All that girl needs is a +whim, anyway.” + + * * * * * + +The Bogardus home was located in a lush and secluded area of Mandeville +Canyon Road in Bel-Air. It was huge, elegant, well-staffed and +maintained. The grounds were a glowing sweep of hand-tailored grass, +tropical palms exploding against the sky like green rockets, swimming +pools—two—and the noisy brilliance of equatorial blooms. + +Toby showed Beebo around. They walked over the lawns in bare feet, and +Beebo marveled at it. It dazzled her eyes enough to take her mind off +her sore heart a while. “Every time you push a button, somebody runs up +with a martini,” she said. “It’s fantastic, Toby.” + +“I wish it weren’t,” Toby said. “I wish I had an ordinary house to live +in.” + +“Poor little rich boy,” she grinned. “Wants an ordinary mama and papa, +too, no doubt. Maybe when you’re older you’ll be glad you’re different.” + +“How would you know? You didn’t have to grow up this way.” + +“No, but I had to grow up,” Beebo said. “I would have traded my problems +for yours any day.” + +“That’s what Leo says. His family didn’t have a dime,” Toby told her as +they picked their way over the manufactured rustic rocks circling one of +the pools. + +“Where is that guy, anyway?” Beebo said. Leo worried her, like a family +ghost: much was made of him, yet he was rarely seen. + +“He’s in S.F.,” Toby said. “The servants expect him back the end of the +week. He’s talking to a sponsor for Mom’s show.” + +“What’s he like? How do you talk to him?” Beebo said. + +“Oh, you don’t have to worry. He likes kids. Besides, he’s been talking +about getting somebody to help with the horses for years.” Beebo felt a +sudden wave of relief. She had not brought up the reason for her +presence here, and it seemed odd to her that Toby hadn’t either—till she +realized how Venus had explained it to him. “Besides,” Toby added, +“it’ll be nice to have you around. You can help me with my homework. You +ought to be good with the biology. For once, Mom didn’t get a square for +me.” + +Beebo wondered how many other young people had preceded her in this +household; how many synthetic friendships with young tutors, horsemen, +and valets Venus had tried to promote for Toby, hoping he would turn +into the easy-mannered socialite she somehow pictured him when he was +grown. + +At least it was reassuring to have a job, something legitimate to do to +explain her membership on the family staff. + +Toby sat down at the pool’s edge and put his legs in the cool water. He +was well-developed for his age, though still only five-feet-six. Beebo +looked at his young male body, so carelessly normal, and she envied him +painfully. + +“Leo’s jealous, but he’s tolerant, too,” Toby said. “I mean, he’s put up +with so damn many men tailing Mom, he knows how to outsmart or outlast +all of them. He doesn’t like it much, but he knows she needs them. At +least, that’s what _she_ says. I don’t know why a woman can’t be happy +with one man ... especially if he’s a good one.” + +“Some women can,” Beebo said. But she was thinking that a man of Leo’s +knowledge and well-founded suspicions would doubtless take one look at +Beebo and know good and damn well what his beautiful wife was up to. +There was nothing to do but wait till he got home for the showdown. + + * * * * * + +She confronted Venus with her misgivings about Leo. “He won’t hurt you, +darling,” Venus said. “Don’t offend him and don’t defy him. He’s nervous +as hell with a girl around the house.” + +“If he puts up with your men, why not with your women?” Beebo said +gloomily. + +“I never cared much for the other girls,” Venus said circuitously. “Only +for you.” + +“Well, that ought to ingratiate me with Leo for good,” Beebo said. + +“Leo’s afraid for my career. I guess that’s the only thing we agree on. +My ‘normal’ affairs have scandalized enough people as it is. A gay +love—if it got out—would finish me, Beebo.” She looked at her +apologetically. “It’s hard for me to fight Leo. He—sort of—owns me. +Economically, I mean, like he owns this house.” + +“Do you really hate him, Venus?” + +Venus picked at a nonexistent thread on her skirt. “I guess he’s a +kindly man at heart. I think I’ve ruined his temperament.” She put her +arms around Beebo as they lounged on her private sun porch. “Beebo, are +you sorry you’re gay? Are you bitter about it?” + +“Yes,” Beebo said, and Venus frowned. “All day long, when you go off to +the studio, I’m sorry as hell. At night, I get down on my knees and give +thanks.” + +“There must have been bad times before I came along.” + +Beebo surfaced from a kiss on Venus’s golden shoulder. “When I was +younger, I used to look out my bedroom window on summer nights,” she +said, “and the brightest star in the sky was Venus. I wanted to reach +out and take it in my hand. Put it in a box and make it mine forever.” + +Venus chuckled. “I’m not in a box yet, thank God. And I’m a lot handier +than that dreadful planet.” + +Beebo settled closer to her and said with comfortable intimacy, “I want +to share so many things with you, Venus. I want to see you sparkling at +parties ... take you shopping ... watch you at rehearsals....” + +“You can’t,” Venus said, putting a finger on Beebo’s nose. Beebo brushed +it off, protesting. “There won’t be time, for one thing,” Venus +explained. “Not while we’re filming. And besides, Leo won’t let you. +You’re too young, you’re too noticeable, and you’re too—well, female. +I’ll have all I can do to keep him from putting _you_ in a box.” + +“Well, of all the goddamn nonsense!” Beebo said, clouding up. “I just +want to drive you places and wait. Watch you from a distance. I’m +willing to be a servant, Venus, but not a dog on a leash.” + +“Darling, use your head. What if we were seen together, and it was +common knowledge you lived here and went everywhere with me and—oh, +Beebo, don’t look so crushed. I don’t like it either.” + +“You don’t want me around where you have to look at me all the time,” +Beebo sulked. + +“Darling, I can’t look at you enough!” Venus said, half-amused and +half-concerned at the outburst. “You’re the handsomest thing I ever +saw.” + +“Is that what I am? A thing?” Beebo said, swinging her legs to the +ground. She was surprised at herself for being pettish. But the moment +she questioned herself about it, her thoughts flew to Paula. _Paula +would never talk to me this way._ + +“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Venus said. + +“You don’t want your _things_ following you around in public.” + +“Beebo!” Venus cried, hurt. “I love you!” Her words made Beebo turn back +and take Venus in her arms. + +“I’m sorry,” she said, realizing all at once that Venus was crying. + +“I adore you,” Venus wept. “I feel so free with you. Able to do the +things that used to terrify me. Able to _think_ about them without +shame. I never let go like this with anybody in my life, Beebo.” She +clung to her. “Darling, don’t shout at me for the things we can’t have. +Be glad with me for the things we _can_. I’m trying to look at the world +more charitably, Beebo—for you and for Toby. You try to look at me that +way. Don’t just love me, understand me. I need it so.” She wiped her +tears on Beebo’s shirt and glanced up at her. + +“You know something silly? I want to dress up for you. I want to sit and +hear you talk. I don’t care whether I say a word. I want to be a real +actress, not an obedient puppet. I even want to mother my son. When you +tell me to do a thing, I fret for the chance to try.” + +Beebo stared at her, amazed at this oddly touching admission. “I even +got a bunch of pamphlets from the Department of Agriculture,” Venus +said, “on how to raise chickens and wean calves.” + +Beebo succumbed to laughter. “All you had to do was ask me,” she said. + +“I’ll show them to you,” Venus offered, trying to get up, but Beebo +pulled her down again, her fit of pique soothed away. + +“I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “Besides, I’ve got you half +undressed. What would the servants say?” + +“They’d say Venus is in love,” Venus answered, letting Beebo hold her. +“And they’d be right.” + +Beebo made love to her with a new tenderness. And yet, again, when they +fell asleep, she dreamed restlessly of Paula Ash. + + * * * * * + +Venus began to spend all the daylight hours, and some of the night, with +the production staff of _Million Dollar Baby_. Leo returned from San +Francisco, but Beebo would not have known it if Toby hadn’t pointed it +out. + +They had been all day riding Leo’s horses in the boulder meadow +surrounding the Bogardus estate, and when they got in, Toby announced, +“Leo’s back.” + +“How do you know?” Beebo asked, suddenly on her guard. + +“Orange-juice glass,” Toby said, pointing to a brandy snifter with an +orange puddle at the bottom, sitting on an end table. “That’s all Leo +ever drinks. He says we’ve got orange trees in the yard and the juice is +free. He likes things that are free. Besides, he’s always on a health +kick. Right now it’s citric acid. When he’s home there’s always a mess +of sticky glasses around.” + +“He’s not going to like seeing _me_ around,” Beebo said glumly. + +“Why not?” Toby looked at her curiously. “The stables are cleaned up for +the first time in a year. And Mom is getting so nice to be around.... +Gee, Beebo, he’ll probably hang a medal on you.” + +Beebo understood from his answer how little aware he was of his mother’s +relationship with her. He had grown to trust Beebo, as well as like her, +and as far as he knew, she was there only to help out with the horses +during the day and look over his homework at night. The fact that she +had been able to encourage Venus and Toby to try to know and respect +each other at last was the frosting on the cake. + +But after he went to bed, Beebo would go to Venus’s room. They were +lovers at night, but during the day, if Venus was home, she had to be as +breezy and casual with Beebo as she was with everybody else. + +As for Leo, Beebo didn’t meet him for nearly a week. He got up at six +A.M. and left the house by seven, before Beebo was stirring. He looked +in on her with Venus once. Beebo was awakened early by the click of the +bedroom door shutting behind him. But when she asked Venus about it, +Venus only said, “I told him you were a farm kid. He likes that. It +makes you a sort of walking health exhibit.” + +“Does he like the fact that I’m a girl?” + +“Not a bit,” Venus said with a grin, refusing to spoil the moment by +elaborating. + +Beebo dodged around squads of empty orange-juice glasses for several +days with the eerie feeling that the ghost who emptied them would come +cackling out of the rafters at her before long. + + * * * * * + +The night they finally met, Beebo had been living under Leo’s roof for +over two weeks, using his hospitality without ever having seen or spoken +to him. + +She was sitting in the huge recreation room with Venus and Toby, +watching TV and listening to Venus tell about the casting problems, +wardrobe, scripts she had read. + +Beebo commented quietly, “It takes up your whole life, doesn’t it?” + +Venus looked at her anxiously. “You’re lonesome during the day, aren’t +you, darling?” She threw a guarded glance at Toby, but he spoke without +taking his eyes off the TV screen: “What do you mean, lonesome, Mom? +She’s busy all day. Besides, I get home from school at four, and I’m +better company than you are.” + +Venus smiled and reached out to hug him. She startled herself as much as +Toby, but he endured the embrace with less embarrassment than he would +have felt the month before in New York. + +“When is that PTA thing at school?” Venus said. “I want to go with you, +Toby.” _Toby._ His name. The first time in memory she had called him +that when she wasn’t in a rage. Beebo saw the smile in his eyes. + +“You can go if you promise not to call anybody ‘darling’ or wear a knit +dress,” he said. + +Venus gasped and Beebo laughed at him, looking behind his back at Venus. +“All right, darling, I promise,” Venus said wryly. “If _you_ promise not +to ditch me this year, and tell lies to your friends about how I do the +dishes every night, like all the other mothers.” + +Toby smiled without looking at her, and it was a bargain. Beebo felt her +own satisfaction at this bashful honesty between mother and son. And +then Venus surprised her by saying, “Beebo, I’m going to get you a car. +It isn’t fair to make you shovel manure all day.” + +“What would I do with a car?” Beebo said, mystified at the sudden +generosity. + +“You could ferry Toby around. Pick up the groceries for Miss Pinch. +Maybe we’ll get something to eat that isn’t poisonous for a change.” + +“Miss Pinch doesn’t use poison,” said a gravelly voice. “Just too much +paprika. It’s her Hungarian heritage.” + +Beebo turned around with a start to see, at long last, Leo Bogardus +coming down the wide steps to join them. + +“Well, darling, you should know,” Venus said. “You and Miss Pinch have +such a beautiful thing together.” + +Leo strode across the room, a solid, rather squarely built man; gray +hair and gray suit; neat and natty and silver-eyed behind his black +French-framed glasses. He was about Beebo’s height and attractive +without being handsome. + +Beebo stood up to greet him, somewhat subdued. “Mr. Bogardus? I’m +Beebo,” she said and held out her hand. + +Leo put a just-drained orange-juice glass on a table. “I know,” he said. +“I hope you’ll be comfortable with us, for as long as you stay, Beebo.” +He shook her hand briefly. + +Beebo wasn’t sure if he meant to be sarcastic or not. She let her hand +drop awkwardly and sat down again as Bogardus settled in a chair, trying +to size him up. His face was clean-lined and his manner decisive. She +imagined him quick to anger, stubborn, and hard to handle when he was +mad. + +“You’re picking them younger every year, Venus,” Leo said five minutes +later, without once having looked at Beebo in the meantime. + +Venus grimaced a warning at him over Toby’s head to shut up. Leo nodded +wearily. + +“I don’t pick them, darling; they pick me,” she said in a pointed +whisper. + +To Beebo’s discomfiture, Leo gazed straight at her then and laughed with +a honk of mirth. Moments later he got up and left as abruptly as he +came, and Beebo spoke not another word to him for several more days. She +had just begun to hope she wouldn’t have to at all. It would have suited +her, not because she disliked him—she didn’t. Considering her position +in his house, he was more than decent. But he scared her. He was no +ghost, but he was still the unknown quantity. + +Fortunately, the next few times they saw each other there was only time +for small talk, and no more. + + * * * * * + +Venus got her the car before the end of the week—a silver sport +coupé—and Beebo and Toby cruised around Hollywood and the coastal +communities when he got home from school in the afternoons. + +Toby kept on talking, confiding in her, and she began to see how much he +respected and liked Leo; how strongly he sided with his step-father in +any argument between Leo and Venus; what a source of strength Leo was to +him. Here was no dirty dog like the rest of the boys. Here was a man to +admire and emulate, and Toby did. Leo was good for him, and Beebo was +glad they had each other. + +Beebo felt conspicuous, even though they rarely stopped the car or got +out. She was afraid somebody would recognize Toby, and she hated to be +stared at, with her short hair and slacks and casual cotton shirts. +Skirts looked wrong on her and men’s pants looked fake. + +She looked the best in riding wear: a formal tight-waisted jacket and +white stock, hard velvet cap, smooth leather boots, jodhpurs. The kind +of clothes she used to wear at shows around Juniper Hill, when she won +ribbons for jumping other people’s horses. She had a lithe elegance that +the riding clothes dramatized. + +But you can’t walk into Schwab’s drugstore in formal riding clothes. At +least not if you have orders to make yourself invisible. Beebo began to +feel hemmed in. The only safe place in the county of Los Angeles was the +Bogardus estate, and even there she worried about guests and servants. + +Miss Pinch disapproved sniffily of her, but she’d probably hold her +tongue for Leo’s sake. Mrs. Sack was as plump and amiable as a currant +bun, and about as perceptive. The others were a shadowy and obsequious +crew whom Beebo rarely saw, yet she distrusted them all. + + * * * * * + +In the evenings, when she was alone, Beebo started writing to Paula and +Jack. They were short letters at first, though the ones to Jack were +longer and franker. To Paula, she described the flash of October across +the southern California landscape; the whipped-cream weather, the purple +hills, the flowers. + +To Jack she said, “Venus is wonderful. She’s working so hard I hardly +ever see her, though. But she says she’d spend every minute with me if +she could. Nobody else exists but me. It’s funny—that looks so made-up +on paper. But she really said it, and I believe her. + +“I almost never see Leo, either. When I run into him, I ask about his +diet and he asks me about the horses. I think he’s a good man—good for +Toby—but I’d hate like hell to have him mad at me. + +“I guess the one thing I don’t like about it here is being alone so +much. Even Toby’s gone till late in the day. What a nice kid he is, +underneath the shell. He wants to be somebody in his own right, and I’ll +bet he makes it. + +“How is that doll you room with? Please write and tell me _everything_ +about Paula. Best—Beebo.” + + * * * * * + +There was no trouble between Leo and Beebo until the day she and Toby +picked Venus up at the studio in Television City. They knew she was +coming home early to prepare for a party, and they talked one another +into it like a pair of school boys ditching class for a day to have a +ball. It seemed quite innocuous, and yet rather worldly and exciting +when they discussed it, tooling around in the silver car. + +But when they actually arrived in that principality of a parking lot, +they were rather abashed. + +“What if she doesn’t see us?” Toby said. + +“That’d probably be all for the best,” Beebo said. + +But Venus saw them plain and clear when she emerged from the building, +surrounded by aides and admirers. She walked briskly to the car, +surprising the crowd which began to straggle after her, opened the door, +and pulled Toby out by his collar. + +“Darling,” she said smoothly, “I want you to meet Mr. Wilkins and Mr. +Klein. Boys, will you introduce him around for me?” She smiled at one of +the men who quickly obliged her. + +Venus thrust her head into the car. “Beebo, what the hell!” she hissed. + +“I’m sorry—we thought it would be fun,” Beebo faltered. + +“You thought—” Venus shut her eyes a minute and swallowed her temper. +“Oh, balls. I’m not going to get mad at you. I can’t, I’m too much in +love with you. But oh! you fool, _Leo_ can. I hope to God he doesn’t +hear about it.” She withdrew, collared Toby again, and popped him into +the front seat, sitting down beside him to wave and smile at the group +of people so charmingly that no one but herself was likely to be noticed +as they pulled away. + + * * * * * + +The sponsors for _Million Dollar Baby_ were openhanded, despite long +rehearsal hours and high rents and salaries, because they figured that +with Venus in the show, it had to be a smash. So Leo, anxious to live up +to their expectations, worked her unremittingly day and night throughout +October. + +Venus not only had to act, she had to dance and sing. The big number for +the second show, then in production, was “I’m Putting My All On You.” + +“I never sang before in my life!” Venus yelled at Leo. + +“Marilyn Monroe can do it,” he said softly, infuriating her. + +“Leo, _I can’t sing_!” she cried, trying to explain fundamentals to him +as if he were retarded. + +“Well, don’t,” Beebo said, surprising both of them. She was watching the +scene in the Bogardus rec room. Leo threw her an irritated look, and +Beebo explained quickly, “_Talk_ the song. Whisper and wiggle like +Marlene Dietrich. Venus, Leo’s right. You have to live up to the title. +_Million Dollar Baby._ God, you ought to be able to do anything for that +price, including grand opera.” + +Leo laughed, a clattering jangle of a sound, while Venus salved her +wounds in prim silence, peeved at Beebo for backing up her husband. + +“Now, you see?” Leo told her, waving at Beebo. “That’s it. Beebo can see +it. Why can’t you? I tell you the same damn thing and you squawk at me +like a fishwife. Okay, I’m not young and handsome, but I’m smart. That’s +how you got where we are today. You do this right, and you’ll get more +than that million.” + +Beebo watched him with interest as he directed Venus. He was +electrically alive, cunning in the way he teased and bullied and loved +the song out of her. Beebo could almost feel the tune, the words, Venus +herself, coming to life. Leo was a good seat-of-the-pants psychologist. + +After several run-throughs he turned to Beebo. “You’re helping,” he said +laconically. “She sings better for you than for me. I show her what to +do. You make her feel it.” He scratched his head, then let his +shirt-sleeved arms drop. “That’s okay, as long as she doesn’t lose it at +the studio,” he decided. “Maybe we’ll let you watch some other scenes at +home, Beebo.” + +Beebo grinned. It was a relief to participate at last in the paramount +sphere of Venus’s life. + +“It helps to have her in love again,” Leo observed candidly. “Makes her +much more responsive.” + +“Don’t talk about me as if I were a machine,” Venus flashed at him. “And +don’t laugh at me. I know how silly you think it is. I _know_ Beebo’s +too young.” + +Leo sat down on a leather-topped bar stool. “You’re happy, Beebo?” he +asked. + +Beebo nodded, wondering where he was going. + +“It’s rough, isn’t it? Venus isn’t home much these days. And you have +nothing to do but goof around in that car.” + +“I get along,” Beebo said cautiously. “Are you against the car, Leo?” + +“No, just the taxi service.” There was a deadly pause, and Leo’s face +folded into a heavy frown. Beebo was lost for a moment, till Venus +sighed and lighted a cigarette with angry movements. “Who squealed?” she +said. + +“It doesn’t matter,” Leo said crisply. “I don’t like the idea of you two +ladies consorting in public.” + +“Leo, don’t pull that solemn face on me,” Venus said. “She and Toby came +together. They picked me up at work. Nobody saw her face—” + +“Nobody had to,” Leo said, taking a drag on his cigarette. + +“Look, Leo, let’s not fight over it,” Beebo said. “Be reasonable. Things +are working out all right. I’m discreet and I swear I’ll never—” + +“I know, you’ll never do anything to hurt darling Venus,” Leo said +acidly. His eyes narrowed, and he began to pace the room. When either of +the women tried to speak he silenced them with a gesture. + +Finally Venus said, “That poor kid never goes anywhere. She deserves—” + +“She deserves to torpedo your career, just to alleviate her ennui?” + +“Well, damn it, Leo, if you turn her out, I’m going with her. I happen +to be in love with Beebo and I don’t give a damn what you think of it.” + +“Venus, go upstairs,” Leo said. He lighted a cigar—a concession to his +mental distress. When Venus objected he said, “Will you please go?” as +if she were a naughty child. He was almost fatherly with her. “I can’t +talk to Beebo with such a distraction as you around.” He made her hope +he and Beebo would understand each other. She left slowly, telling Beebo +not to believe a word Leo said. + + * * * * * + +Leo stopped his pacing and sat down to face Beebo. “There’s too much at +stake, Beebo,” he said at once. “I can’t tolerate even small slip-ups. +Venus is silly, but that’s no excuse for you. You’re a sensible kid.” + +“But Leo, such a little thing—” + +“Nothing is little, Beebo,” he said. “Let’s be frank with each other. It +worries me enough that you’re so young. At least her other lovers were +nearer her own age. But to have you a girl....” He puffed rapidly on the +cigar. “I won’t disguise the fact that I find you rather ... well, +unsympathetic. I think most normal men would. Partly from masculine +resentment, I guess. A natural revulsion for women who parade as poor +imitations of men, but—” + +“You liked me well enough when you got home and found Venus acting like +a lovable human being,” Beebo interrupted him heatedly. “I’m the same +person now as then. I just happened to pick her up in a parking lot and +drive her home.” + +“The guy who told me about it,” Leo said thoughtfully, “said Venus was +picked up by a good-looking boy. A friend of Toby’s he supposed. Of +course, you were hard to see inside the car. But Venus had told him, +when she saw you pull up, that you were one of the servants. So he was a +little surprised to see her jump in the front seat with you ... and you +didn’t have a uniform on, either. He was giving me the old +elbow-in-the-ribs treatment.” He blew cigar smoke at the ceiling without +looking at her. + +Beebo cleared her throat. “It was so innocent,” she said. + +“Nothing is innocent,” Leo said flatly. “Especially a classy young butch +on the make.” + +“Damn it, Leo!” she said. “I’m clean, I’m healthy, I’ve worked hard all +my life. And so help me God, I’m not ashamed of being what I can’t +_help_ being. That’s the road to madness.” Her cheeks were crimson. + +“Well said, Beebo,” he acknowledged calmly. “You’re right—but so am I. +You might as well face up to the world’s opinion. I speak for the +ordinary prejudiced guy, too busy to learn tolerance, too uninformed to +give a damn. We are in the majority. I admire your guts but not your +person. As for the intolerance, it’s mostly emotional and illogical. I +can’t help it and neither can most men. I apologize. I warn you that +it’s there. I add: it’s beside the point. + +“What I think of you is less important than what the people in Venus’s +world think. I don’t care what you say, somebody in this world besides +the Bogardus family knows you’re living here and laying my wife. It’s no +secret from the servants, you know.” + +Beebo caught her breath and Leo looked at her piercingly. “I’ve heard +them laughing about it,” he said. “And our servants bat the breeze with +the other stars’ servants. They know more guff about us—what we eat, +when we pee, who our lovers are—than all the gossip columnists rolled +into one and stashed behind the keyhole. All I can say is, I pay them +and most of them like me. Not Venus, not you. But _me_. I hope they +respect my privacy, but I know human nature. Sooner or later they’ll +blab.” + +Beebo rubbed a hand over her eyes, angry and frightened. “Well, if it’s +so bad, why the hell did Venus bring me out here? She must have known +how it would be.” + +“Venus isn’t very big for denying herself what she wants,” Leo said. +“Besides, there’s a lot to be said in your favor. Venus is more stable. +She means it when she says she loves you. I believe that, Beebo, and I +hope you do. Her love is a unique gift, and I tell you honestly that I +envy you it. It has transformed her.” + +Beebo was flattered and surprised to hear this coming from Leo. She felt +suddenly sorry for him. He seemed gray all over, from his damp shirt to +his strained face. + +“I struggled for years to win her love ... my God, just to win her +attention. I finally decided there was no love in her, not even for poor +Toby. You proved me wrong, and in a way I’m grateful to you. Venus will +never be an easy woman to live with, but she’s improved measurably with +you, and I think some of it will last long after you’ve left us.” + +“Left you?” Beebo opened her mouth to protest but was bull-dozed by his +rush of words. + +“Her tantrums now are kid stuff compared to the blasts we used to get. +Now, I get a sort of half-assed cooperation. Toby gets some affection. +The servants get some peace. And that’s a lot when you’re starting from +zero.” + +Beebo was taken aback by it. + +“I thank you for that, Beebo. I thank you for being discreet most of the +time, when it’s boring and humiliating. But I have to look at the other +side of the coin. Venus has survived some potentially filthy scandals +because she has the smartest director and press agent in the world: me. +But it took all I’ve got and more to keep them out of the papers. +Sometimes the only way was to jump in front of her and take the crap +meant for Venus on my own kisser, just to keep her clean. I’d do it +again if I had to, but I don’t want to do it for you. If it gets out +she’s sleeping with a girl, we’re dead. All of us. + +“Venus makes a touching speech about walking out of here with you if +anything goes wrong, but she won’t, Beebo. Don’t kid yourself. Don’t get +hurt worse than you have to be when the end comes.” + +Beebo was too mad at him and too proud to admit any such thing. “The end +won’t come, Leo,” she flared. “She’s in love with me and that makes her +a different woman from the one you’ve always known. You can’t make +predictions about her.” + +“I can predict anything about that woman, Beebo,” he said in a sad voice +that mourned the passing of mystery in his love. “I wish there were +something left in her for me to worship. You forget that there was a +great love in her life before Beebo Brinker came along and that love +will last to the end, long after Beebo falls by the wayside. That’s +self-love. She loves herself more than she loves you.” + +“You’re unjust, Leo. She’s told me—” + +“Sure—that she only loves the money, the career. Why, Beebo? Because +they glorify the _woman_. The woman she loves—herself.” + +Beebo stared at him, silenced. + +“You flatter her, you kid her, you make a good try at understanding her, +despite your blind spots. And you’re also nuts about her, which she +finds very ingratiating. Plus the fact of your femininity ... something +I will never understand. You know, she’s tried this Lesbian stuff +before.” + +“She said you objected pretty violently.” + +“Hell, yes. It’s much more dangerous than a normal affair. I’m no +blue-stocking. I’m for falling in love and making it work, as long as it +doesn’t hurt other people. It has nothing to do with my emotional +prejudices. Intellectually, I’m damned fair. The only two people Venus +hurts are me and Toby. I give her hell about Toby; I try to protect him. +But letting Venus hurt me is the abiding condition of my life. The rock +on which our marriage is built.” + +Beebo listened, rooted with fascination, shock, pity, distaste. He was +making an accomplice of her by revealing the secrets of his life with +Venus; putting her in a spot where she would be virtually obligated to +help him, if only to save all their skins. + +“But when I see disaster coming,” Leo went on, “that will crush our son, +destroy her career, ruin all our lives—I have to act. Beebo, you’re +eighteen. You’re among the adults. I lay this on the line to you. I’d +ask you to leave of your own free will, if I thought you had any left. +But you’re too infatuated for that. All I’ll say now is, stay out of +sight, watch the servants, and do as I say.” + +“Look, Leo, I know you’re bending over backwards for me,” Beebo said. “I +appreciate it. Since I’ve been here you’ve been just a face to me, but a +kind enough face. Now I see you’re not just an operator—you’re an +intelligent and honest man. And it’s too bad Venus won’t admit it. I +think she could have loved you if she had. + +“But if you’re working up to telling me that no matter how good a kid I +am, I’m going to have to pack up one of these days and blow, I’m sorry. +I can’t go.” _Unless_, she thought, _I go for Paula. I’ll never go +because I’m pushed._ + +“No,” he said. “I’ll tell you precisely what the situation is. I should +have talked to you about this before. You should know where I stand. It +must never—under any circumstances—get out that you’re queer, much less +involved with Venus.” He spoke without self-consciousness, his voice +coming sharp and sure. Beebo wondered if his long experience with +“artistic” types had made him a little wiser than other men. + +“I found Venus when she was about your age: just plain Jeanie Jacoby +from Fostoria, Ohio,” Leo said. “She wrote me a letter saying she was +beautiful, available, and hated her family, and would I please make her +a star. She enclosed a snapshot. And she added that she was writing me +because I was the biggest agent in Hollywood. It was pure guff, but her +picture got me. + +“Later I found out she wrote the same letter to twenty other guys. But I +was the one who fell for it and sent her a ticket for L.A. I figured if +only half of what I saw in the pic was for real, I could still sell her +and make a fortune. Well, she came. I saw. She conquered. I named her +Venus for the obvious reason, and Bogardus because I guessed I’d never +have the chance to give her my own name any other way. I never thought +we’d marry. + +“I loved her the day we met, for all the wrong reasons, and I love her +still. My reasons haven’t improved any. + +“I was just an agent, but I went out and worked my ass off and got her +going. I launched her. She would have sunk after a couple of the flops +she made if they hadn’t let me direct her finally. I made an actress out +of her and saved her career. + +“When her star rose, so did mine. Her success was the only thing we +loved together and cried over and cherished—together. I watched her run +through five lousy marriages in ten years. And when she was weary and +demoralized, I stepped in like Sir Galahad, thinking I could make her +happy. I was delirious when she said yes, and I think even Venus was +pleased. Till the honeymoon was over. + +“I suppose she’s told you what it was like. Things have been more +peaceful with you around. But we’ve driven each other to mayhem in years +past. She thinks she wants her freedom. But she’d come back to me, +Beebo, even if she got it. She needs me as much as I need her. (Don’t +tell her that, she won’t believe it.) I’ll never divorce her. I love her +enough to prefer the torment of living with her to the torment of living +without her.” + +He stopped a moment, fixing Beebo with his silver eyes to impress his +next words on her. “That is one hell of a terrible lot of love, Beebo,” +he said slowly. “I doubt if you could top it. There’s one thing Venus +and I agree on: I made her and I’m keeping her on top. If she didn’t +care about that, she wouldn’t care about me, either. + +“Listen, Beebo. I don’t want her ever to love you more than herself. And +if I see it coming, I’ll fight you. I’ll bring out every drop of +self-love and self-pity and money-lust in her system—and she’s got more +of it than she has blood. Because if she drops her career, she’ll drop +me with it.” He paused and they looked at each other. + +“That’s it, Beebo,” Leo said at last. “I’m sorry if it sounds egotistic +to you. You just mind me, and maybe we’ll make it for a while. I don’t +know what you can do about Toby. He doesn’t get the picture about you +and his mother yet, but he will. He’s a bright kid. But don’t go out of +your way to tell him. It’s going to stagger him. I’ll try to explain +when he catches on. + +“If anything comes up, deny it. I give you this chance because of what +you’ve done for Venus. Don’t make me regret it.” + +“I don’t know whether to thank you or kick you in the slats,” Beebo said +sourly. “You make it sound like a great life.” + +“Did anyone tell you to expect something else?” Leo said. “You’ve been +living it the last two months. You should be used to it.” + +“Used to it but not fond of it,” she said. + +“But fond of Venus ... enough to put up with it? Because if you aren’t, +say so. I’ve been honest enough with you to hurt myself, Beebo. You be +that honest with me.” + +Beebo’s gaze fell. “I’ll put up with it,” she said, but her voice was +rough with resentment. + +“I’m sorry, Beebo,” Leo said, and though his masculine aversion to her +was as real as he declared, he was still capable of a restrained +sympathy for her. “The world wasn’t made for dykes, you know.” + +“No,” she flashed. “It was made for movie queens and their tyrannical +husbands.” + +Leo hunched his shoulders, unoffended. “The world was made for normal +people,” he said. “The abnormal in this world have a tough go. If they +keep their abnormality secret, they’re damnably lonely. If they +broadcast it, they’re damnably hurt. You were born with that, and you’ll +have to live with it, the way I have to live with Venus’s faults.” + +Beebo was impressed with his sensitivity. But she answered moodily, “I +don’t feel so damned abnormal, thanks. I feel as normal as you do. I eat +three meals a day, I pay my bills, I respect the other guy.” + +“Well, I can tell you, society doesn’t give a hoot in hell how normal +you _feel_, Beebo. You _look_ queer, and that’s enough. People are +waiting around to throw some crap your way.” + +“What about the queers who look normal?” Beebo demanded. + +“They have a chance,” he said. “They can hide. You can’t. And when the +stuff hits the fan, I don’t want Venus anywhere near you. You can have +it all to yourself.” + +“You’re a pretty goddamn infuriating individual, Leo,” Beebo said. + +“Sure,” he agreed, getting up and stamping the cigar butt into the tile +floor. “An honest man always is. I’ve said some harsh things to you, but +they were true. And I’ve permitted you to stay on—conditionally. You +know the conditions, my friend, and if you feel like ignoring them, +you’d better feel like saying goodby, too. You dig?” + +“I dig,” Beebo said, glowering at him from the sofa. + + * * * * * + +She wrote to Jack that night, sitting in one of the unused spare rooms, +where she was shunted when Venus was out. She recounted a little of what +Leo had said. + +“God, Jack, it makes you want to go out and convert the whole damn world +to homosexuality,” she told him. “Just so you can walk down the street +with your head up. + +“Maybe I grew up too fast, maybe that’s my trouble. I feel so lost out +here ... hung up between two worlds; half-kid and half-adult, half-boy +and half-girl. And sometimes it seems like I get the dirty side of both. +Leo’s whole life is one long compromise ... maybe that’s what he was +trying to tell me about mine. + +“I wanted Venus and I got her, but I’m not sure having her is worth the +shame and secrecy of it. I’m strong and tall as a boy, but I’m not free +as a man. I wanted to be gentle and loving with women, but I can’t be +feminine. + +“Venus tries to make it better for me. She argues with Leo to let me out +more. She gives me things all the time—money, clothes, anything—and it +makes me realize how much she thinks about me when she’s working. She’s +even been going to Toby’s PTA meetings. + +“And damn it, Jack, I know she loves me. She proves it to me whenever +she’s home. But that’s the catch—that whenever. It gets later every day, +and she’s so tired. She never says no, but I feel like a dog. + +“You know something? I wish all this had happened to me ten years from +now. You said that about Paula, but you were wrong. Paula was just what +I needed. I miss that girl, Jack. I sit here on these long empty days +and dream about her. My letters to her are awful, I don’t know what to +say. Say I love her for me, will you? + +“No—better not. Because I don’t know how I can leave Venus, and I’m +still not sure I want to. God, what a mess!” + + * * * * * + +Leo confronted her one morning two days later and said, “Lay off Venus a +little, Beebo. She has circles under her eyes.” + +Beebo, still half-asleep by herself in Venus’s bed, mumbled at him and +sat up. + +“Her eyes don’t photograph well. She looks her age and that’s no good,” +Leo said. “She gets home at midnight, pooped, and you light into her for +another couple of hours. She’s too crazy about you to say no, but she +has to get up at six-thirty next day, while you lie around till noon.” + +Beebo rubbed her eyes. “Leo, I don’t force her to make love to me,” she +said, trying to clear her head. “She _wants_ to.” + +“Well, she can’t. Not till next Tuesday. That’s the première showing and +we’re all under a hell of a strain till then.” + +“My God,” Beebo whispered, almost to herself. “I have to give that up, +too? Leo, what else is there?” She turned to him, scowling. + +“After Tuesday night, whether we sink or swim, the whole cast and crew +get a week off, and you can make up for lost time,” he said, gazing at +her long form with curiosity; wondering how it could appeal to anybody, +yet respecting his wife’s intense admiration. “I’m sorry, Beebo. It’s +either continence, or I take her to a hotel. You choose.” + +“I have so little of her, Leo. You’re asking me to do without even the +little I have.” She put her head down on her knees. + +“Just for a few days.” + +She lay down on the bed, turning her back to him, and Leo watched her a +moment before he shut the door. + + * * * * * + +In the half week before _Million Dollar Baby_ bowed, a oneliner appeared +in a trade gossip column. It said, “Who’s been picking Venus Bogardus up +at TV City in a silver sport coupé these days?” + +Leo spotted it, underlined it in red, and left it on Venus’s dresser, +where Beebo picked it up the next morning and read it with round-eyed +shock. + +The next day, another columnist asked, “What’s this about Venus Bogardus +taking a personal interest in her son’s friends? Especially one near and +dear to the family?” Leo underlined that one, too. Beebo read it while +she was sitting alone in the spare room again. She was sleeping there +till Tuesday night. + +Leo made no comments in the margins. He didn’t have to. Beebo was scared +enough at the unembellished print. She hadn’t seen Venus for a couple of +days. Venus was too busy and after the hints in the papers, she and Leo +removed to a hotel. Beebo was afraid for Venus, afraid for their love +affair, and afraid for herself. If only Jack were there to help her. If +only it had been possible to tell all to her father long ago and run to +him now. + +Toby saw how blue she was later in the day and tried to cheer her up. +“Hey, don’t look so gloomy,” he said. “What’s got you down?” + +Beebo looked at him. “Toby,” she said, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. +“Did you read the newspapers today?” + +Toby’s face reddened and she wished immediately that she hadn’t brought +it up. “I don’t read them,” he said. “I heard about it at school. +Everybody wants to know which friend of mine they’re talking about. But +they all think it’s a boy, naturally. I—I mean....” He paused, +flustered, unwilling to hurt her. “There was a thing like this once +before, Beebo, and it just wasn’t true. Leo proved it. He’ll get Mom out +of this, he always does. There’s always some jerk waiting around to +throw a scandal at the movie stars.” He sneaked a look at her to see if +he was helping any. + +“_I_ know it’s not true, Beebo, so don’t worry,” he said putting his +hand on her arm. “You know I don’t believe that junk. You kid around, +but you wouldn’t do anything like that.” + +Beebo looked away from him. “I wouldn’t hurt your mother—” she began. + +“I know,” he said, with surprising warmth and sympathy. “She’ll be okay, +don’t worry. The thing that scares me is ... well, I don’t want you to +leave us, Beebo. You’ve done so much for us. Besides, who’d help me with +my biology? Honest—these gossipers—they’ll say anything about anybody.” + +Beebo was touched by his anxiety. “I’m not going anywhere, Buddy,” she +said. But she meant, _Not right now. Tomorrow, I may have no choice._ +And Toby realized it. + +Beebo was a thin line away from despair. All the charmingly confessed +selfishness, that had seemed adorable in Venus at first, had become +Beebo’s prison. + +And having nothing else to do, Beebo studied Venus’s faults as never +before. The self-love, the endless clichés. Venus might laugh at them, +but she couldn’t abandon them. People said there was only one great +glamour queen left in Hollywood: Venus Bogardus. And Venus thought they +meant her trimmings—her velvet-paved boudoirs and flashy conceits; not +her Self. + +Beebo loved her with excited fascination still. And Venus loved Beebo as +well and truly as she knew how. More, certainly, than anyone but Toby. +And yet ... was that enough? + +Beebo stood looking out the window of her room at twilight, taking in +the grounds of the estate and the evening star. Venus. So high and +bright and beautiful. And as far out of reach at that moment as ever it +was when she was growing up back in Juniper Hill. + +That night, when she tried to write to Jack again, she spoiled her page +twice with tears and gave it up. She was trying not to admit that Venus +had no room in her life for a gay lover; that theirs was a time-bomb +romance, set to explode in their faces. The papers had lighted the fuse. +And Beebo, looking at that perfect point of light in the black sky, knew +in her heart that her days with Venus were numbered. + + * * * * * + +The morning of that crucial Tuesday, a nationally syndicated columnist +who wielded huge power in Hollywood, said she was checking a New York +source for verification of a shocking news item about one of the town’s +greatest stars ... a woman, currently headlining a TV series. + +Two other columnists pretended special information on the same subject, +but all refused to reveal their information or describe the scandal till +it was authenticated. + +Venus was on trial that night. One columnist had snickered, “If Leo +doesn’t mind, I don’t know why I should. After all, he’s been through +this a dozen times.” + +Even at that they had let her off pretty easily. But the atmosphere +around her crackled. Fortunately, advance notices on _Baby_ were good. +They had had a good schedule and an extravagant budget. And Leo, with +bench-coaching from Beebo, had wheedled a radiant performance out of his +wife. + +Venus and Leo watched the broadcast on monitors at Television City with +the whole _Baby_ company, and went on afterwards to a baroque party on +the famous Restaurant Row of LaCienega Boulevard. They hit most of the +eateries, picking up celebrities en route, and capping the bash at the +home of a popular singer who had guest-starred on the opener. + +The party was noisy and crazy, and Venus, a show-stopper in silver +sequins, took Hollywood under her thumb, with the subtly effective aid +of her husband. She had her arms around every man present at least once, +as graceful and captivating as any lovely woman aware of her success. +When she was twitted about the dark secrets mentioned in the papers, she +laughed and told everyone she was screwing her cat, and the whole +subject was swept away in the laughter that followed. Only Leo remained +grave, smiling slightly and talking, but inwardly seething. + +And Venus, if the truth were known, was even more disturbed than he. + + * * * * * + +Beebo saw the show in the Bogardus rec room with Toby. The house was +eerily quiet. All the servants had been given the night off, except +Venus’s correspondence secretary, a fussily officious young man; and +Mrs. Sack, who never went anywhere anyway. + +The show had hardly started before the phone began to ring: telegrams, +roses at the front gate, long distance rhapsodies. The secretary took +the calls, but Beebo and Toby picked up the red wall-phone and listened +in to some. + +At the station break, the secretary put his head in and said, “Beebo? +Telegram for you.” He handed her the yellow envelope. + +Beebo felt the bottom of her stomach sink southward. She was sure it +couldn’t be good news. Not when she had left so much angry confusion +behind in New York. + +The wire was from Jack: “Get home, pal. N.Y. safer than L.A. Couple of +people want your scalp. Jack.” + +_What does he want me to do, go back and give it to them?_ she wondered, +taking her worry out on Jack. + +“Was it bad news?” Toby said, looking at her face. Beebo pursed her lips +and nodded. + +“A friend in New York. He says my enemies want me dead.” + +Toby paled, started to ask about it, and suddenly turned back to the TV +screen as if afraid to know the truth. + +When the show was over, Toby and Beebo went for a walk on the lawn, +meandering side by side and speaking little. Beebo was full of the +shadow-image of Venus on the screen; glittering, gorgeous, inaccessible. +Finally Toby stopped in a garden path, standing stiff-legged and staring +back at the lighted windows of the empty living room. “Beebo,” he said. +“You’re not going to leave, are you?” It was not just Beebo he feared to +lose. It was his mother as well. + +Beebo’s hands curled into fists. “I don’t know,” she said, so softly it +was hard to hear her. She knew she was going to have to, that she was +way beyond herself here. And yet not even the discouragements of +boredom, shame, and abstinence had completely crushed her. She kept +thinking of how it might have been. + +“I feel so bad about it all,” Toby said. “They have no right to say +those things about you. It makes me sick. Stay with us, Beebo. Leo will +take care of you.” + +His faith in Leo moved her. She wished she could risk the truth with +him, without destroying him. She wished he could know somehow what she +was, and that the knowledge would not make him loathe her. + +Beebo stood beside him, silent in the night, letting him rant against +the cruel accusations in the papers with youthful outrage, protesting +his trust and affection, and she felt a terrible sob coming up in her +throat. + +Leo had forbidden her to tell him she was his mother’s lover. But it was +the meanest sort of cowardice to let him stand there and thank her, and +beg her to stay on, when all the while she was betraying his gratitude. + +“Nobody in this world ever did so much for Mom and me,” he was saying. +“Honest, Beebo. If you go now, it would ruin everything. I don’t see—” + +“Toby, stop it! Please! Oh, God,” Beebo cried. The sob broke and her +voice went hoarse. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” She covered her face +with her hands for a few agonized moments. Toby stared at her as if she +had taken leave of her senses, very much distressed at her sudden +explosion. He tried clumsily to calm her. + +“Did I say something wrong?” he asked apologetically. + +“It’s no use, Toby,” Beebo cried, so brokenhearted that he was stunned. +“I have to go.” + +“Go where?” + +“New York.” + +“You said there were people back there who want to hurt you,” he +objected, turning white again. “Beebo, if that’s true, you _can’t_ go. I +won’t let you.” + +“Anything would be better than here,” she said, looking at him in +torment. “They’ll flay me alive out here—if not tomorrow, then the next +day. Oh, Toby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The sobs silenced her for a +minute. “Please believe me. I wouldn’t do this to you for the world, +only—” + +Toby turned and walked away. + +She pursued him, calling anxiously, “Toby! Toby, wait!” She caught up as +he was letting himself down gingerly on a stone bench, moving for all +the world like an old man with bursitis. Beebo joined him, reaching out +to touch him, then pulling back when he turned away. + +“I don’t understand,” she heard him murmur. “I told you—Leo—don’t you +believe me? He can help—if it were true, but it’s not—” + +He frightened her. The words were so breathless and disjointed, the +voice so small and hurt. He was rocking back and forth, as if shaken +with sobs, but there was not the slightest sound audible now from his +throat. “Toby? Are you all right?” Beebo said. + +He moved around, again with that strange parody of crippled age, and +seemed about to answer her, when all of a sudden he startled her by +springing straight into the air with a weird howl. In the elapsed time +of less than a second, Beebo realized he hadn’t sprung at all; he had +been thrown upright by the abruptly powerful tensing of his entire +muscular system. He was having an epileptic seizure. + +And before she could move to help, he had fallen forward, rigid as a +cigar store Indian. He struck his head on a decorative rock across the +path when he hit the ground. Beebo cried out, horrified, and then dashed +to his side, lifting him carefully off the gravel and onto the soft +grass. + +Her years of experience with sick animals and illness steadied her a +little. She knew he mustn’t swallow his tongue but it was too late to +put anything between his teeth. His jaws were locked shut. She rolled +him gently on his side, thinking that he could breathe better and would +be less likely to choke on his own saliva, which came foaming out of his +clenched jaws. He was quivering like a vibrator machine and groaning +uncontrollably while the white suds oozed from his mouth. It was a +ghostly wail that made Beebo shiver. And yet she knew that a +seizure—even one as alarming to see as this one—shouldn’t be a cause for +panic. Aside from his contortions, it was the blow on his head that +worried her, but she couldn’t get a look at it. + +Toby’s feet were pointed downward, tight and hard as a toe dancer’s, and +his arms were glued to his sides. Beebo was relieved when finally she +felt him go limp. But it was then that she saw his forehead and gasped. +There was a gash in it, deep and ragged. She began to tremble with +alarm. Now that Toby was relaxed, the wound opened like a fountain. Such +quantities of blood flowed over his face and onto Beebo and the ground +beneath them that she felt almost sick. + +She tried to pick him up, but her legs failed her momentarily and she +collapsed beside him, sweating frantically. + +“This won’t help him, idiot!” she berated herself. “Get up!” She tried +again and made it, desperate to get him in the house and clean the +wound. She wanted help, anybody, a doctor—Mrs. Sack. “Mrs. Sack!” she +shouted suddenly, but there was no sound from the house. Mrs. Sack’s +room was on the other side on the top floor and she would never hear +Beebo calling from the lawn below. + +Beebo lifted Toby and carried him into the house. She put him down on a +satin-upholstered sofa, watching with pity and fear as the red blood +soaked into the pink silk. She pressed her bare hand down hard on the +wound and the flow abated slightly. Nearby was one of the house intercom +phones, and Beebo reached it with her free hand. + +“Mrs. Sack,” she said breathlessly. “I’m in the living room with Toby. +He had an attack and hit his head. Call the doctor and then get down +here—fast!” + +Mrs. Sack rushed into the living room moments later, armed with rolls of +gauze and tape and disinfectants. She stopped at the sight of Toby, so +limp and colorless, except for the scarlet stains on his face and the +sofa. + +“I’ve been waiting for something like this all my life,” she said +grimly. Beebo was astonished to see how firm and fearless she was; not +at all the comfortable muffin she seemed when all was well with her boy. +“We’ve had some bad falls before, but not like this.” + +“Is the doctor coming?” Beebo asked. + +“Yes, in ten minutes.” She knelt by Toby, washing the wound while Beebo +watched. + +“Shall I call Venus?” Beebo said. + +“No,” said Mrs. Sack emphatically. “She’s worse than nothing in a +crisis. She goes all to pieces. It doesn’t help Toby and it certainly +doesn’t help the doctor.” + +Beebo thought, _I should be grateful she’s here—she knows just what to +do_. And yet she was distressed to think that Venus should be playing +goddess at a party while her son lay hurt and bleeding—and no one was +making a move to tell her. + +“She has to be told, Mrs. Sack,” Beebo said. + +“Go and tell her, if you must,” Mrs. Sack said. “She can meet us at the +hospital. At least over there they can give her a sedative.” + +Beebo stood uncertainly by the phone, trying to picture herself walking +in on the fancy party in her bloody slacks; infinitely preferring to +call. + +Mrs. Sack looked around. “Beebo, this boy is more my child than hers—she +says so herself,” she said unexpectedly. “All his life he’s come to me +when he was hurt, and I’m the one who knows how to care for him. Not +her. It’s my job. My life.” She was as proud and strong in her words as +a soldier bristling with defense. + +To Beebo, staring at her, it became clear that Venus didn’t just give +Toby up. Toby was deftly taken from her by this plump, kindhearted woman +who never had a child of her own, but was obviously made to mother one. +She believed Toby was truly her child because Venus had forfeited her +right to him, even the right to be there to comfort him and patch his +wounds. + +“Mrs. Bogardus could have had him when he was born,” Mrs. Sack went on, +ministering to Toby. “But she practically threw him at me. And I was +overjoyed to have a little son to raise and love. She can’t walk in here +like a queen and demand him back, just because he cuts himself and +scares her.” + +Beebo went over and patted Mrs. Sack’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said +gently. “Nobody’s criticizing you, Mrs. Sack. But Venus is his mother, +no matter how much you’ve done for him or how much you love him.” + +“If you call that woman,” Mrs. Sack said, turning around and standing up +to italicize her words, “_I will not be responsible_ for the condition +of this boy. Beebo, you’re a nice youngster and you’re his friend. It’ll +be bad enough for Venus to see him at the hospital, but if she comes +racing in here shrieking bloody murder, she’s likely to make Toby +believe it. Do you want a sick boy or a dead one on your conscience?” + +Beebo ran a distraught hand through her hair. “But Mrs. Sack, I _can’t_ +go get her.” + +“Nonsense. Just change your clothes and drive over. It should take you +about half an hour, and by that time the doctor will be with us and Toby +will be at the hospital.” + +“But the papers ...” Beebo muttered. + +“I don’t read the papers, Beebo, but I’m quite sure they’ll forgive you +for getting the mother of a sick boy from a party.” She had turned back +to Toby. “It’s an emergency and there’s no one else to go.” + +“What about Rod—her secretary?” + +“He doesn’t drive. And besides, he overdramatizes everything. He’d +really fix Mrs. Bogardus.” Mrs. Sack didn’t seem to care whether Beebo +ever got there. But Beebo knew Venus had to be told at once. Venus +herself had admitted to hysterical behavior in the face of Toby’s +attacks. Perhaps the only way then was to pick her up and drive her to +the hospital, as Mrs. Sack suggested. + +Beebo put on some clean clothes in her room, and as she ran down the +stairs again, headed for her car, she heard the newly-arrived doctor +saying on the phone, “Yes, a concussion. Get an ambulance over here.” He +looked up and saw Beebo. + +“Are you Miss Brinker? Get his mother, will you? Tell her not to worry—I +don’t want two patients on my hands tonight. Better not say much about +the wound. Just tell her it’s a bump. We’re hospitalizing him till the +risk of hemorrhage is passed.” + +“Yes, sir,” Beebo said, and ran out to the garage. + + * * * * * + +She left her car directly in front of the main entrance to the house +where the party was, and went in. + +“Excuse me, this is a private party—” said a doorman, but Beebo, with +that peculiar air of authority that came to rescue her from various +crises, interrupted him calmly. + +“Where’s Miss Bogardus?” she said, scanning the living room. “It’s an +emergency.” + +The butler, who read the gossip columns like everyone else, gazed at her +with new interest. “I believe she’s occupied,” he said with a venal +smile. Beebo gave him a twenty-dollar bill, too worried even to begrudge +it. + +“You’ll find her in the back gardens. Out the French doors,” he said, +gesturing toward them. + +Beebo strode through the champagne-stained living room. Many a famous +face glanced at her, and a columnist whispered to his scribe to take +notes. + +She slipped through the heavy shadows bordering the spotlighted garden. +Venus was at the farthest corner. Beebo simply looked for the heaviest +concentration of men. In the center, slim and straight in her +coruscating sequins, stood Venus Bogardus: a silver exclamation point in +the purple dark. + +Too much shivaree had followed Beebo out of the house for Venus to be +unaware of it. Leo alerted her at almost the exact moment her eyes fell +on her lover. There was a half-second of undressed fury visible in her +eyes, flashing brighter than her dazzling gown. And then she pulled her +pride across her face like a veil. + +Beebo walked toward her, her mission making her impossibly sure of +herself. The two women eyed each other as Beebo approached down an aisle +of staring men, like an infernal bridegroom passing through an honor +guard of devils. Luckily, neither Beebo nor Venus were people to +collapse in the face of public shock. + +Silence fell, except from Leo who said clearly, “I’ll tell you just +once, Beebo. _Leave._ You’re fired, and I never want to see you again.” +He spoke softly but in the hushed garden his voice carried to the +audience of Hollywood topnotchers. + +“Fired? I never worked for you, Leo,” Beebo said. + +“Venus, tell her to go,” Leo ordered his wife. + +But Venus, watching Beebo, loved her enough to feel instinctively that +Beebo would not come to humiliate her in public without a drastic +reason. With her characteristic public calm, so different from the +histrionics she indulged in private, she walked boldly to Beebo and +said, “All right, what is it?” + +Beebo hadn’t even time to take a breath before she heard Leo say, “By +God, you get that kid out of here or I will.” + +Venus ignored him, walking toward the house with Beebo coming close in +her wake. But this was once that Leo would not let himself be flouted in +front of his friends. He had to bring Venus to heel as a matter of +pride, and not only because he considered her action self-destructive. +It seemed as if Venus were making a donkey of him before God and the +world as payment for the years of tolerance and love and patience he had +spent on her. It was too much for him. He caught up with her, spun her +around, and brushed Beebo aside. + +“Tell her to get out of our lives, or I’ll take her apart,” he said. He +so rarely threatened Venus that he scared her. But Beebo faced him. +“Leo, why in hell do you think I’m here? I came—” + +He didn’t let her finish. “You cocky little bitch, you want it all, +don’t you? Even her ruination! After all I told you.” + +“Let me explain!” Beebo said, alarmed now like Venus. But Leo reached +out with icy rage and slapped her face. A red storm swirled up suddenly +in Beebo, and she lit into him so hard that for several amazed seconds, +he let himself be punched. But when he got his bearings he was after her +with all the tornado fury of a cuckolded husband. Every man who had ever +shared a bed with Venus Bogardus got a souvenir sock that night—and +every girl. Only it was Beebo who took the blows. + +She fought well enough, but Leo came on with a wild single-minded lust +for vengeance that had her back in the grass before long, heaving for +breath, cut and bruised. She would never surrender, and Leo, possessed +by years of bitter grievances and pent-up vengeance, was in no mood to +be merciful. + +Beebo, sinking beneath his punishment, became aware at last that the +blows had ceased. She heard Leo give a cry and opened her eyes to see +Venus, shoe in hand, glaring at him. She turned to Beebo and her face +softened. “Can you get up?” she asked. “I’ll take you home.” + +Leo put a hand to the back of his head where the sharp heel had cut his +scalp. He brought his fingers away, wet and red, and turned to look at +his wife. But Venus, taking advantage of his brief confusion, had pulled +Beebo to her feet and rushed her through the house toward the car. + +The crowd surging after them deterred Leo’s chase just enough to prevent +him from catching them as they drove away. An uneasy silence settled on +the party as the silver coupé sped off. Nobody knew what to say to Leo. +But he left almost at once, making brusque apologies to his host. + +“Well,” said the smug voice of a Hollywood observer, who wrote for one +of the trades, “I guess it’s true, after all. I wasn’t going to print +it.” + +“Print what? What?” the crowd chorused eagerly. + +“The tip I got from New York last week.” + +“I got it, too,” a woman reporter piped up. “I thought it was sour +grapes, but I have my people checking it.” + +The guests began to rumble for enlightenment, but the first gossipist +said, “Read it in the morning paper, friends.” And he left with several +other members of the movie press, all chattering as they walked down the +drive. + + * * * * * + +Beebo slumped in the front seat, her head against the window, mute with +pain for several moments. + +“We’ll take you home and clean up those cuts, darling,” Venus said, +wincing at the sight of them when she stopped for a light. + +Beebo shook her head. “Dr. Pitman has Toby at the hospital,” she said. +“That’s what I came about.” + +“_What?_” Venus was so shaken she almost lost control of the car. Beebo +had to grab the wheel from her. “It’s okay, honey, he’s going to be all +right,” she said quickly. “He had a seizure, that’s all.” + +“God, I knew it was something awful the minute I saw your face,” Venus +cried as the car moved erratically down the street. “And that +sonofabitch husband of mine had to pound you to pieces—” + +“Don’t blame Leo,” Beebo said, her voice soft and drained. “I don’t. It +wasn’t me he was hitting so much as all the people who came before me.” + +Venus was crying and Beebo tried to make her stop the car. “Toby’s had +dozens of seizures in his life, but they didn’t put him in the hospital. +What aren’t you telling me?” Venus said. + +“He fell,” Beebo said. “We were walking in the garden after the show. He +had a seizure and fell, and his head struck a rock. He has a cut on the +forehead, but—” + +“Oh, dear God!” Venus gasped, and Beebo said, “Stop the car. Damn it, +Venus!” + +“But we have to get to the hospital—” + +“In one piece,” Beebo said. “I’ll drive.” + +“You’re in no shape—” Venus began, but Beebo broke in, “I’m in better +shape than you are.” She made Venus slide over on the front seat while +Beebo walked painfully around the car. Her wounds were the sharp residue +of Leo’s wrath—but her head was clear. She started the motor, and told +Venus firmly, “Toby’s going to live, and so am I.” + +Venus looked down at her sparkling knees, trying to control her weeping. + +“Look, honey, if you have any ideas about running to Toby with tears +streaming down your face, and carrying on as if the end were near, so +help me, I’m going to join Mrs. Sack’s team. She said that’s exactly +what you’d do.” + +“She’s wrong,” Venus said. It was just enough to prick her conscience +into action, and she wiped her eyes while they were still flowing. + +Neither of them said anything more about Toby or the coming storm with +Leo and the papers till they reached the hospital. Venus insisted that +Beebo accompany her inside, and Beebo acceded to keep her from getting +frantic. + +Toby had a concussion all right. They were making a spinal tap to +determine the extent of pressure, if any, on the brain, and to relieve +it surgically if necessary. It was urgent to do this as promptly as +possible, to avoid brain damage. + +“The blow was pretty hard,” Dr. Pitman told them while a nurse dressed +Beebo’s wounds in Toby’s room, at Venus’s request. No one dared to +question Beebo about them. Venus said imperiously, “She’s hurt. Can you +help her?” But her eyes were wild and her thoughts all with Toby. + +“Fortunately,” the doctor went on, while Venus bent over her son, peaked +and scarcely conscious on the hospital bed, “the skull is thick and +tough in the front, with heavier bone than in the back. A blow to the +back, of the same force as the one Toby sustained, might have done +serious damage. As it is, I’m as concerned about the blood loss as the +concussion. We’re preparing a transfusion. He’ll feel a good deal +stronger after that than he does now.” + +Dr. Pitman looked curiously at Venus. “I must say, Miss Bogardus, you’re +taking this better than I expected.” + +“Mama?” Toby whispered, and Venus clutched one of his hands in both of +hers. + +“Yes, Toby,” she said. + +“Am I going to be all right?” He looked at her. “I feel so punk.” + +“Yes, darling, you are,” she said. + +He shut his eyes, reassured, and Venus turned away to cover a sob. The +doctor gave her an “I-should-have-known” look and helped her to the +door. + +“You’re very tired,” he said. “Do you still have some of those yellow +pills I gave you at home? All right, I want you to take one and try to +rest. You can do Toby more good in the morning, when both of you are +feeling better.” + +Venus tried to object, but Pitman pulled Beebo aside and said hastily, +“I’ve been treating her for years. I know how she can be. If she doesn’t +sleep tonight, we’ll see real fireworks, and that will set Toby back if +she gets at him.” + +Beebo looked at the boy, resting now as the nurses prepared his arm for +the blood transfusion, his head neatly bandaged. “Is he really going to +be okay, doctor?” she said. “You convince me, and I’ll convince Venus.” + +“I think so,” Dr. Pitman said, but his concern was still plain on his +face. “To be honest, there is always some risk with any head +injury—especially with an epilepsy patient. He needs absolute peace and +quiet and as little movement as possible, until the danger of internal +hemorrhage is past ... but he’s young and sturdy, and we’ll have a +twenty-four-hour watch on him. I do believe, Miss Brinker, that his +mother will only be in our way tonight. We’ll call immediately if +there’s any change for the worse, but I don’t anticipate one now.” + + * * * * * + +Beebo took Venus out of the hospital in stages, letting her fold up and +rest on chairs in the hall on their way, till she had her in the car and +could drive her home. + +Venus was forced to expend her frustrated maternal impulses on her hurt +lover instead of her hurt child. She investigated and re-dressed all of +Beebo’s bruises, making small noises of reproof and pity. + +“Thanks for braving that party, darling,” Venus told her. “I’d have died +of self-contempt if you hadn’t let me know.” + +“Toby would have been all right.” + +“Maybe. But I wouldn’t. It would have killed me to let Mrs. Sack do it +all again. Especially now when Toby and I are getting so close.” + +“Where do you suppose Leo is?” Beebo said, touching a cut with careful +fingers. + +“I’ll be damned if I know. Or care,” Venus said harshly. “I thought for +sure he’d be here, waiting to skin both of us alive. He’ll be around +sooner or later, you can bet on that.” She sighed, leaving Beebo to turn +on the radio by her bed. “I wish they had let me stay with Toby,” she +said. “I’m ashamed that they couldn’t.” + +“You can see him first thing in the morning,” Beebo comforted her. + +Venus unzipped her sequins and dropped them in a starry heap on a chair. +Fifteen-hundred dollars’ worth of dress and she treated it like a +dishcloth. There was nothing underneath it but her shoes, which she +kicked off. + +Beebo put a hand gently on Venus’s neck, massaging it a little. “Maybe +this is a poor time to bring it up,” she said softly. “But we have to +talk, Venus. I—I love you, but I can’t stand living this way, honey. I +realized something in front of those people at the party: I was on +trial. My life, my love for you, my self. I can never love you openly, +like a human being. They don’t give me credit for being human.” + +“Beebo!” Venus said, looking at her with a shocked face. “Don’t say such +ugly things. You’re talking about the girl I adore.” + +Beebo looked away. “I’m not the kind of person I want to be, Venus. Not +the kind I want you to love. I’d rather die than hurt you, but I feel as +if I’m dying, anyway ... of shame and ... well, doubt about us. I want +to love you somehow without it torturing us both. And I can’t.” + +“I know,” Venus said, and Beebo sensed their mutual hopelessness. She +embraced her and Venus began to cry. “When I saw him beating you +tonight, I could have killed him,” she said, her voice rusty with tears. +“It took all the meanness out of me. I just wanted to console you. +Beebo, whatever happens to us, always believe that I loved you—I _love_ +you.” + +“I promise,” Beebo said, but the past tense gave her a premonition of +what was coming. “What do you mean, whatever happens?” + +“I mean, the papers, and the rest of it. I have to deny everything, +Beebo. I have to pretend you’re nothing to me. Oh, darling, understand +why!” It was a declaration of love that struck Beebo’s heart. + +“I understand,” Beebo said, and thought she did. But she didn’t get +quite all of it. For Venus was saying goodby to her. Beebo didn’t know +that this loveliest night they would spend together would be the last. +She had thought all along that when the end came, she would pick her own +time and day to go; not that the whole thing would be out of her +control. + +Venus said nothing, did nothing, to spoil the night. She was silent +about Toby, even though her heart contracted at the thought of him, and +she ached to be beside him. She spoke only words of love to Beebo. + +Beebo, surprised at Venus’s ardor, gave in at first to humor her, and +finally found herself forgetting even the bruises and cuts on her body. + +The night was mild and the stars were sprinkled thick as spilled +soapflakes across the sky. Venus pushed aside the sliding door to her +patio, and they danced out there a while on a rug of cool grass, moving +with the music and the air and the three o’clock mocking bird, arch-deep +in the tickling soft grass. + +Beebo felt as if she could have held and loved her fabulous lady +forever. When she leaned down to kiss Venus’s face, her cheek was wet. + +“Oh, it’s nothing, darling,” Venus assured her. “I’m just a sentimental +idiot. Say you love me and I’ll recover.” + +“I love you,” Beebo said. “I love you, Venus.” And to her surprise, her +mind was with Paula Ash for a moment. It staggered her a little. Venus +stopped dancing and looked up at her in the moonlight. “Do you? Really?” +she asked. It wasn’t just a woman’s endless need to be told over and +over. It was the knowledge that she wouldn’t hear it again after this +night had passed. + +Venus loved her enough to hope that when she sent her away in the +morning—for she would have to—Beebo’s wounds would heal and she would be +able to think back on their love without the regret that rots so many +sweet memories. + +“Beebo, promise me one last thing, darling, and then I’ll shut up.” + +Beebo squeezed her, turning her tenderly to the rhythm of a waltz. “I’ll +promise you that moon on a platter if you want it.” + +“Promise me you’ll remember this night as long as you live. Everything +about it. The stars inches over our heads, and the music, and the grass, +and....” The famous voice broke and she cried again. + +Beebo picked her up and sat with her on a bamboo garden chair. “Darling, +what’s the matter?” she demanded. + +“Oh, Toby and—the damn gossipists. I don’t know. It’ll never be the same +for us, Beebo.” + +Beebo, full of apprehensions, had no comfort to offer her now, except to +hold her tight. Then Venus slipped from her arms to the feathery grass +and Beebo followed her down, and there were no more questions or tears +or promises. Nothing but beautiful oblivion till the trespassing sun +announced the morning. + + * * * * * + +Beebo awoke, a head-to-toe bouquet of blue bruises from the jolting Leo +had given her. But it hardly bothered her. Venus had loved her so warmly +all night that she was half-ready to hope they could work out some sort +of compromise; half-ready to give in to more months of demoralizing +secrecy, if it could be like that every night. + +Venus called the hospital the moment she awakened, and they reassured +her that Toby was no worse; in fact, seemed better. + +She hung up, looking as blue as before her call. “Now we have to face +Leo,” she said. + +“He won’t eat you alive, honey,” Beebo said. + +Venus paled suddenly. “Look!” she said, pointing at her dresser. Beebo +saw the telltale glass, still coated with orange juice. “He’s already +been in looking for trouble.” Venus stole a glance at Beebo, so young +and handsome, so vulnerable to the worst ostracism society could offer; +and her heart swelled. _I can’t hurt her_, she thought in anguish. + +_I’ve had twenty years of adulation and I’ve got more money than I’ll +ever use._ She began to wonder if she had the guts to go with Beebo +after all. _What the hell, I’ve never loved anybody like this before. Am +I afraid to stick to the one person who knows how to make me happy?_ + +It gave her the courage to try, at least, to defend Beebo against her +formidable and stubborn husband. + +While she was preoccupied with these thoughts the bedroom door opened. +Beebo was just pulling her shoes on, sitting on the edge of the bed in +her clothes of the night before. She stiffened, expecting Leo, but it +was the corresponding secretary again. “Another telegram,” he said to +her. “For you.” + +“Thanks, Rod.” Beebo got up to take it and was about to open it when she +heard him say, “Good morning, Mr. Bogardus,” and there was Leo. He +dismissed Rod with a wave of his hand and Beebo stepped aside wordlessly +to let him enter the bedroom. He had a lighted cigar—a bad sign—and +another glass of orange juice in his hand. Beebo thrust the telegram in +her pocket and followed him in, shutting the door. + +“All right,” Leo said. “We’re adults, and we aren’t going to scream at +each other. Let me talk first if you please. Beebo, are you all right?” + +His board-meeting tone, typical though it was of him, offended her more +than an explosion of fury would have. “Relax, Leo, you won’t have to pay +any more doctor bills,” she said. She was pleased to see that she had +given him a shiner. + +“I’ve been to the hospital. I was there all night. I can understand your +concern at the party, Beebo. But let me remind you that this house is +full of telephones, anyone of which would have got a call through to +Venus.” + +“Leo, Mrs. Sack told me Venus would—” + +“But you preferred to repay my kindness to you by shaming me in public.” + +“The doctor said it, too: Venus would get hysterical if she heard over +the phone that Toby was hurt and had to be hospitalized.” + +“You know it’s true, Leo,” Venus said softly. + +“I didn’t go there to shame you, Leo,” Beebo said. “It’s bad enough +being holed up in this fort like a prisoner of war, but not so bad I’d +do that to you. I just want you to believe one thing: I was really +scared about Toby, and I never thought of anything but getting you and +Venus to him as fast as I could.” + +Leo finished his glass of juice while she talked. “I believe you,” he +said. “I also believe you could have sent somebody else and spared us +what we’re about to go through—all of us. I’ve been tolerant about +Venus’s lovers in the past because they were vital to her existence. But +none of them ever treated me like a sucker.” + +“Beebo has always treated you respectfully, Leo,” Venus interrupted +heatedly. “It isn’t you she’s rebelling against; it’s the way we’ve made +her live.” + +“What other way is there? Did she think she’d be your escort at parties? +Meet all your friends? I think I’ve had to put up with a hell of a lot +more than Beebo has. All the worry of this queer situation has been on +my shoulders. Christ, I never could understand why a woman would want +anything to do with another woman that way, anyway. And if she did, why +love a woman who does everything possible to make herself look like a +boy? Why not love a real woman? Or a real man? If you want a lover in +pants, Venus, I’m available. I have been for years, and I still love +you, though God alone knows why. + +“If you want to love a female, don’t run after a mistake of Nature like +Beebo Brinker.” + +“Leo, that’s brutal!” Venus cried. “Beebo can’t help how she was born. +Good God, do you think any human being would deliberately choose to live +with a problem like this? Leo, there are homosexuals in this world—I’m +one myself—emotional strays of one kind or another, who at least have +the comfort and privacy of an inconspicuous body to live in. The shelter +of a normal sex on one side of the fence or the other.” + +“Are you trying to stir my pity for her?” Leo said. + +“I don’t want your lousy pity!” Beebo said. + +“I’m trying to make you see how it feels,” Venus said urgently. “Leo, +what if you’d been raised as a boy and learned to be a man, and had to +do it all inside a female body? What if you had all your masculine +feelings incarcerated under a pair of breasts? What would you do with +yourself? How could you live? Who would be your lover?” + +Leo nodded, answering slowly. “That’s what I’m saying: it’s not an easy +life, nor a desirable one, no matter where Beebo lives it. And I know +she didn’t pick it out. But whether you two like it or not, she is a +freak. And I am sorry for her. Now, Venus—do you want me to sit by and +watch that kid wreck the career I’ve spent twenty years of my life to +build? Yours, my dear—all yours!” + +“I don’t want it!” Venus shouted stridently, wanting to hurt and +frighten Leo. + +But Beebo was recalling Leo’s words: “If you ever mean more to her than +her career, I’ll lose her. I won’t let that happen. I’ll fight you—I’m +warning you, Beebo.” When she thought of leaving Venus, she meant to +leave a path open behind her for an occasional meeting, a +correspondence, a night together now and then when Venus was in New +York. But Leo was about to sabotage even that small hope. She looked at +him and caught her own thoughts in his eyes. + +“That shellacking I gave you was only the opening round, Beebo. Unless +you’re ready and willing right now to walk out of here and never come +back. Never call, never write, never speak to Venus or see her again. +_Never._” + +“Leo, I love this girl!” Venus said. “If you insist on kicking her out +of my home, you can kick me out with her.” It was not what she had +thought she would say when the time came. She felt a sort of amazed +pride in her foolish bravery. + +Beebo, too, was overcome with gratitude; yet wondering at the same time +what recriminations Venus would vent on her as the weeks and months went +by, if they did leave together. Where would they go, with Venus as +notorious as she was? The thought of running away with her—of being tied +to her for life—alarmed Beebo in spite of herself. + +Leo walked to his wife and spoke straight in her face. “Fine,” he said. +“Go with her, Venus. Never mind losing your money, your name ... and +your son. Not to mention me. The things that have sustained you all +these years. Ditch them all. + +“What for? For your bargain, here: Beebo. She’ll love and protect you +better than I can, no doubt. You’re thirty-eight years old and you won’t +have that face of yours so damn much longer. If you quit now, it’ll go +to hell in a hurry. By the time Beebo’s twenty-eight, you’ll be nudging +fifty. Probably a grandmother with a face full of charming crow’s feet. +Every night you and Beebo will sit by the TV and watch old Bogardus +movies on the late late show.” + +Beebo and Venus stared at him. + +“You won’t have your face or your fortune or your home, or me to fight +your battles, or Toby to love and respect you at last. You won’t have +Toby at all, for that matter. Do this, Venus, and you’ve lost him +forever. No state board in its right mind would give custody of a child +to an infamous Lesbian who’d surround him with scandal and expose him to +homosexual obscenities—even if the child himself wanted to be with her, +which he damn well would not. + +“And what do you trade Toby for? A big, overgrown, penniless butch with +no job and no prospects for one, who’ll dump you the minute that face +and body begin to sag.” + +“You bastard!” Beebo shot at him, appalled. + +“Shut up, Beebo,” he said coolly. “Do you have a job?” + +“No, but—” + +“Do you deny you’re gay?” + +“No, but—” + +“Do you deny Venus would lose everything if she went with you? Do you +love her so much you can’t wait to destroy her?” + +“Leo, for the love of God—” + +“For the love of my wife I say these hard things!” he shouted at Beebo. +“You were warned. You have no business standing there now with a slack +jaw. What will you do, take a cold-water flat in Greenwich Village and +live on love till you get hungry and cold? Do you think Venus Bogardus +can go anywhere in the world right now with the papers headlining her +lewd romance with another woman? ‘Venus Bogardus, queen of hearts, has +found a queen of her own.’” He was quoting, unknown to the two women, +the morning’s gossip columns. + +Venus, thinking he had made it up, turned all her famous fury on him. +“Get out of this house, you stinking dog!” she cried. “I never want to +see you or hear your filth again!” + +“I’ll be over at Sam’s when you’re ready to call me,” Leo said, +referring to the friend who took him in whenever Venus turned him out. + +“I’ll never call you!” she screamed at his retreating back. It was +always her parting shot. Later in the day she would pick up the phone +and tell him that even though he was a sonofabitch, she guessed he’d +better come home. Miss Pinch had just squeezed a batch of fresh orange +juice. + +At the door Leo picked up a stack of newspaper columns, torn from the +morning papers, and held them out to Venus. “These will pass the time +while Beebo is packing,” he said, but Venus refused to glance at them. +Beebo, in the grip of a spiraling alarm, took them instead. + +Leo looked at her. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you,” he said. “If you +weren’t so young you might have handled things better. I got hurt too, +Beebo. The most I can hope for now is to save Venus and Toby. It’ll take +all my ingenuity—and maybe all my money. And I have to start at once. +Just like you have to get gone.” + +She didn’t answer him, but she felt moved, realizing slowly that he +needed her pity as much as she needed his. She could never forgive him +for calling her a freak, and yet it had been a valuable lesson in the +prevailing attitude toward mannish women. + +Jack had been sympathetic and patient with her. Pat, himself quite +feminine, had responded to her much the way that the Lesbians who liked +her did. Even the people back in Juniper Hill had been pretty used to +her most of her life. They watched her grow up and while they laughed +unkindly and sometimes lied about her, still they had never said to her +face the things Leo Bogardus had said. Beebo damned well had to stand up +and fight back, or lose her self-respect forever. + +Her gaze fell on the pile of columns in her hand, as Leo left them +alone. Venus tried to throw them all in the wastebasket, till she saw +the spreading shock on Beebo’s face. She read over Beebo’s shoulder, +holding her breath: + +“Venus Bogardus, ruler of the hearts of men the world over, is ruled +herself it seems: by a WOMAN! Is this true, or just vicious gossip? +Readers of my column know I never use any but the most carefully +validated tips from reliable sources. This one has been double-checked +and we can say positively: the handsome youngster sharing the Bogardus +manse as companion to Venus’s son, is really the apple of the movie +star’s eye. Is Venus Bogardus really one of those unfortunate misfits, a +LESBIAN? Leo, do you know about this? Does your stepson know it? Our +hearts are with you in this difficult situation. + +“Readers who doubt me may ask themselves if I would dare to print such +an accusation under the threat of legal action from Miss Bogardus, if it +were false. No! I would never, etc., etc....” + +Beebo shuffled through the others quickly. It was the top story in all +the trades and made full columns in the big L.A. dailies. She looked at +Venus and saw such a pallor on her face that she was afraid Venus would +drop where she stood. Beebo helped her to her satin-draped bed where +Venus deflated in a heap. + +Beebo stood beside her, her hands crammed into her pockets, afraid to +touch her. At last she asked, “Does this mean I have to go right now? +Alone?” She knew it did; she had known all along it was coming. Yet here +they were, and the time was upon them, and it was abysmally hard to do. +Strangely, she found herself picturing Paula again. It comforted her. +Not that she had any illusions about a warm welcome from Paula. But even +the thought of a fight with the little redhead was better than the +thought of not seeing her at all. + +Beebo touched Venus’s long hair gently. “A few minutes ago you were +telling Leo he’d have to kick you out, too, if he wanted me to go.” It +wasn’t kind to remind Venus, and yet it was a relief in a way. + +“Oh, darling, I’m such a coward,” Venus said brokenly. “I can’t bear it. +Where in hell did they find out? Miss Pinch would never tell. The others +don’t like me, but they wouldn’t do anything to ruin Leo. Besides, I was +never around during the day and at night we were so careful. How in +hell—?” + +Beebo knew perfectly well how it got out. She touched the telegram in +her pocket fearfully, and Venus saw her face change and guessed. “Your +friends in New York?” she asked. + +Beebo pulled out the wire. Jack had written: “Hope this catches you +before the sky falls, pal. If not, chin up. We love you. I found out too +late from Pat that Mona wired the Hollywood press. Come home and ride +out the storm. This is a time for friends to help you, not lovers. +Jack.” + +Beebo folded it with the meticulous care you give to the oddments of +life that happen to be in your hands when pain strikes; each fold +careful, straight, and neat—as tidy as her life was not. There is an +obscure comfort in smoothing a small piece of paper to its ultimate +neatness. It seems a symbol of order and reason that must somehow rescue +you from the chaos of suffering. It eases the misery that wants to pour +out of your eyes and wail from your throat. + +“My friends in New York,” Beebo said huskily, “are still my friends. My +enemies in New York did this to me. Venus, Venus....” She shook her +head. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve been trying to tell you, but I +didn’t know how. I thought we could part lovers and come together again, +still lovers, some day.” + +Venus reached up for her, both of them admitting tacitly that it could +never have lasted; neither willing to say the words outright. + +But Beebo rejected her arms. “I have to confess something terrible to +you,” she said. “I—I brought on Toby’s attack. I was telling him I +thought I would have to leave here, so you wouldn’t be hurt by the +papers. He got more and more upset and strange ... he tried to answer me +... and then suddenly he shot up and fell over.” + +Venus looked away. “It might have happened anyway,” she said. “We know +so little.... I’m going to lose him, Beebo. He’ll never get over this.” + +“You’re wrong. You’ve got to be! You can’t lose all you worked for with +him in one stroke like that,” Beebo said. + +“Maybe Leo can help me,” Venus said, the dimmest spark of hope in her +eye. “He always seems to put me back together. Maybe he can do it for +Toby.” + +Beebo could see that she was floundering at the prospect of losing the +props that had supported her for so long: Leo, Toby, her money, mass +love. + +“One thing you have I’ll never have, darling,” Venus told her quietly. +“Courage. I’ll bet you didn’t know how much till now. Maybe you’ve got +it because without it you’d have been destroyed long ago. Well ... I +hate to admit it, but Leo is my courage. I can’t run away with you, even +though my heart breaks to let you go.” She stopped talking for a minute +till her voice steadied a little. “I thought you’d given Toby to me at +last, but I’m afraid you’ve lost him for me forever.” + +“I hope to God he has better sense than that,” Beebo said, kneeling by +the bed with her face near Venus’s. “I hope he loves both of us more +than that, and I think he does. He’s brighter and steadier than you are, +Venus. Besides, he’s lived all his life with a condition that makes him +different from ordinary people. Maybe that will help him understand me a +little now.” + +Venus stopped crying and embraced Beebo. “Forgive me,” she whispered. +“All I want to say to you is, thank you. For the time I had with Toby, +for the love you gave me.” + +For a moment Beebo wanted to stay so badly she was ready to sacrifice +her life again—but only for a moment. It was easy to get carried away +when you had your arms full of Venus. + +“I love you, Beebo,” Venus said seriously. “Some day you’ll know how it +feels when you’re my age, and the girl you’ll adore forever is yours. +And you know it’s going to end before long and you’ll have to go on +living somehow.” + +Beebo caressed her shoulders without looking at her face. “You’ll never +say you love me again, will you?” she murmured. “Will you say it to +another girl?” + +Venus’s arms tightened around her. “Will you?” she countered. + +“You’ll say it to men as long as you live, won’t you?” Suddenly it +seemed unbearable to Beebo; bad enough to know that other girls would +follow her, even if Venus never loved any of them. But intolerable that +she would keep on climbing into bed with men, too. Her hands hardened on +Venus’s shoulders. “God, how I wish I could make you choose!” she said. +“Be gay or be straight. Don’t be both. The only other girl I know who’s +both is contemptible.” + +Venus answered quietly. “Beebo, you knew what you were early in life. +Some of us don’t find out till after we’ve committed ourselves to a man +and children. You’re one hundred per cent gay. You never doubt it. You +breathe such easy contempt for me. But darling, believe me, you’re the +lucky one. You knew yourself in time to save yourself from housewifery +and husbands—things the rest of us have to live with. + +“But I didn’t know till it was too late. It wasn’t just all the men I’ve +known that confused me. It was the way I was raised, too, and the girls +I knew. It was having a man and a child and a career in my life to +defend before I knew I wanted anything else. It was a paralyzing fear of +the truth. I didn’t have a body like yours that threw the truth at me +whether I wanted to see it or not. I could pretend. I pretended with men +and men and more men. + +“And the more clearly I realized I was gay, the more terrified I was to +admit it to myself, and the more I had to lose. Do you have to loathe me +for it, Beebo? Am I sort of second-class Lesbian, is my love a +second-class love, because I live with a man and I’ve borne a child?” + +Beebo shut her eyes. “I’m your lover, not your judge,” she said, pulling +Venus’s head down on her shoulder. “All I know is, I hate it—sharing +you. If it were another girl, I could fight back on my own ground. But +Leo confronts me with marriage and motherhood and morality and ... God, +what can I say? Tell all of society to go to hell?” She kissed Venus +disconsolately. “If you’d known what you were when you were young, would +you really have given up all this for the life of a Lesbian? The kind of +life I’ll lead?” + +“If I’d known I could be as happy with a girl as I’ve been with you, +Beebo ... and I didn’t have my son or a name to worry about ... I could +have given up anything to be with you.” + +Beebo couldn’t hate her, in spite of the distressing knowledge that she +had been used. Venus was no Mona Petry. Venus proved her love and did +her utmost to go beyond her limitations for the sake of that love. But +she had lived too long in the world of safety and social acceptance that +is the normal woman’s—a world Beebo would never know—to leave it now. +She was imprisoned in the only security she knew, just as Beebo was +imprisoned in her body and her strong emotional needs. + +“You despise me a little for hiding behind my husband and child,” Venus +said, seeing it in Beebo’s face. “What do you want me to do with them, +darling? I love Toby and I need Leo. I can’t wish them out of existence. +They existed for me long before you did.” + +“Venus, I don’t know what’s right or wrong,” Beebo said. “I only know I +love you and it’s made me miserable. God spare either of us another +affair like this one.” She caught Venus in an impassioned embrace, +holding her hard enough to hurt her and crying soundlessly against her +cheek. + +Then she released her, walking swiftly to the door. Venus gave a small +scream and rushed after her. “Oh, not like this! Wait, stay with me a +while. There’s no need to go just yet. I need you more than I ever did. +Beebo!” + +“Don’t make it hurt any worse, Venus,” she said. “Let’s not cut it off +an inch at a time.” Beebo was the strongest and it was up to her to make +the break physical and final. + +“Say it one last time, then,” Venus pleaded wildly. “I’ll never see you +again! Beebo, darling—say it!” + +“I love you,” Beebo said huskily. “Goodby, lover.” She reached out and +put her hands on Venus’s shoulders to draw her near; kissed her ardently +on the lips and then chastely on the brow. + +Venus gazed at her, afraid to believe it for a minute, and then dropped +her face into her hands with a sob. Beebo left her, running down the +curving stairs to the front door. If she were to move at all, it had to +be at top speed. + + * * * * * + +It was raining in New York when Beebo landed at Idlewild, a standard, +sharp November rain: liquid ice tumbling out of a dirty sky. She reached +Jack’s familiar door early in the evening and rang his bell. The answer +was immediate, as reassuring as a personal word. + +She dashed up the stairs and saw him leaning in the open doorway, +waiting for her. Neither of them said a word. Beebo went up and hugged +him against her damp jacket. He fit neatly under her chin, letting +himself be squashed in the name of friendship. + +“Come in, pal,” he said. + +“I should have wired you. I left in such a damn hurry,” she said. +“Jack—you aren’t even surprised to see me!” + +“I read the garbage in this morning’s paper,” he said. “I didn’t think +Venus would keep you around long after that. But I have to admit I +wasn’t prepared for her phone call.” + +Beebo’s mouth fell open. “Venus called _you_?” she said. + +“About four hours ago. Said you were flying back. She remembered my name +and had her secretary try every Jack, John, and J. Mann in the Manhattan +directory,” he chuckled. “She sounded very sweet and sad. I was +impressed with her—I really was. She said to tell you she loves you.” + +Beebo leaned forward on the sofa. “Poor Venus,” she said, too tired even +to feel surprise at her compassion. “She’s so afraid I won’t believe +her. You know something, Jackson? She does love me. That’s the craziest +part of it. She just isn’t strong enough to snap her fingers at the +world. And God knows she had more at stake than I had—mostly a son she’s +just beginning to know and love. I have no business condemning her. But +oh my God, it hurts so much. She was so lovely.” + +Jack sat down beside her. “I know the feeling,” he said. “I guess it’s +the one pain on earth you can always remember perfectly, down to the +last mean twinge.” + +Beebo smiled a bit, putting her head back on the sofa and accepting +gratefully a lighted cigarette from Jack. + +“How about a peppermint schnapps?” he said. “Or would you prefer Scotch +and water?” + +“That’s more like it.” + +“It’ll warm you up a bit. What a rotten day for a homecoming.” The rain +pelted the roof and windows with an endless muted rattle. He handed her +the drink, making one for himself. + +“Thanks, Jack,” she said. “You know, it was sunny in California. +Eighty-two degrees and not a cloud in the sky.” + +“I was stationed there a while during World War II. I remember that +weather.” + +The small talk comforted Beebo and the drink relaxed her. They had +another, and it wasn’t till Beebo had been there several hours and told +Jack all the highlights of her life with Venus, that she became aware at +last of a void in the room. She sat up. “Where’s Pat?” she said. + +Jack glanced down into his drink. “Pat left,” he said simply. + +“Left?” Beebo looked at him incredulously. “Jack, he couldn’t just +leave, he was so fond of you!” she said. “I’m so sorry.” + +“So am I. But it’s winter, after all. Spring will bring somebody new. It +always does.” + +Beebo’s heart turned over for him. “But you ... really loved him. Oh, +Jackson,” she sighed. “And you let me deluge you with my problems.” + +“Yours are worse than mine, pal,” Jack said kindly. “And newer. Pat left +me about four weeks after you did. First of October.” + +Beebo shook her head, still half-disbelieving. “Why?” she said. + +“He found somebody else,” Jack said, and when Beebo exclaimed in +protest, he added, “A woman.” Beebo stared at him. “I guess you put that +bug in his ear,” Jack said wryly. “He began to brood about being gay. He +thought if he could be so attracted to you, maybe it would work with +another aggressive girl. And he was a bit lost when you left, anyway. +Then he met Sandra and got quite a crush on her. She took him on. It all +happened in a few weeks’ time. They’re living upstate, running an +antique shop. She’s teaching him the business. And I guess he’s +exterminating her termites. Now and then he comes down to see me. We get +along fine.” + +“And I thought he was so happy here,” Beebo mourned. + +“I think you meant more to him than we realized. He moped around after +you left and wanted to follow you to L.A. I talked him out of it, but it +seemed to relieve him to talk about you. Frankly, he talked too much. I +warned him, and he really tried to stop, but he’d have a drink or two +and open up. And he always got around to you. It was complimentary—what +he said—but there was too much of it. Mona or Pete managed to get most +of the dope. + +“And when Pat realized he was hurting you, he began to blame himself for +all your troubles. He felt guilty about living with me—‘off me’—when he +couldn’t give me his whole love. He’s a damn nice kid, Beebo. It’s best +for him that he look around a bit more.” + +“What’s best for you, Jackson?” Beebo asked fondly. + +“Somebody new, I guess.” + +“I hope you don’t have to wait till the spring.” + +“I’d rather. It’ll give me time to get over Pat. Besides, I’d rather +fall in love in the sunshine than the rain.” + +He fixed another round while Beebo mused, “I hope Venus’s son gets +through this all right. It’s tough enough on Leo and Venus ... but Toby. +I was his best friend. He thought if I ever left he’d lose his mother +again.” + +“He didn’t lose her,” Jack said. “Venus said Leo explained things to him +at the hospital. It shook him up pretty badly, but he came out of it on +Venus’s side. That Bogardus must be a wise man. Venus said he didn’t say +one bitter word about you. Anyway, Toby ended up wanting to comfort her. +She said it saved her life. She couldn’t have stood to lose you both in +one day. + +“Toby doesn’t know what to think about you, and maybe he never will.” + +“That will draw him closer to Venus, at least,” Beebo said. “I don’t +like to think he’d ever hate me. But there’s some comfort in knowing I +brought him and his mother together. It’s a funny thing ... all of a +sudden she seems as remote and inaccessible as—as the California +sunshine. The end of the rainbow. Jack, I hate to give up the pot of +gold.” + +She bent her head and shut her eyes a moment. When she looked up she +asked, “How’s Pasquini doing?” + +“Got a new driver—a boy,” Jack shrugged. “Marie can still cook. I don’t +know about Pete. He’s a scared little man. I guess that’s what makes him +so vindictive. He feels brave hurting somebody who can’t hurt back.” + +“He and Mona sent the scoop to Hollywood, didn’t they?” + +“They did. They called me about it later. They were that sure of +themselves.” He studied her face. “Venus told me about the boxing match +with Leo. He must have given you those bruises.” + +“It’s all right,” Beebo said, touching her face. “I gave him some, too.” + +Jack lighted a cigarette. “There’s one more thing, honey,” he said. +“Your brother.” He spoke carefully in an effort to keep from alarming +her. + +“Jim?” Beebo said, grimacing. “God, I suppose he read about all this, +too. Did he tell Dad?” + +“No,” Jack said. “Somebody sent your father the news, but he never saw +it. I suppose it was Mona.” + +“Damn it, why does that girl enjoy persecuting me? All I ever did was +get my wires crossed on a date with her once. I can’t understand—” + +“You will,” Jack promised her. “Beebo, listen to me. Your father ... +never knew.” + +She looked at him, suddenly white-faced, and whispered, “Oh, Jesus. Oh, +God. Jack? He’s dead, isn’t he?” + +“I guess I shouldn’t have told you tonight,” Jack said. “Coming on top +of the rest, maybe it’s too much.” + +“No,” she said, breaking down and crying a little. “Do you know, Jack, +I’m almost glad. I’m sick that I wasn’t with him at the end—if I’d known +it was so close I’d have come back. But that poor unhappy man went +through too much over me as it was. I think—I hope—that he knew why I +left him. Maybe he seized the chance to lay his burdens down. + +“Oh, I don’t mean he’d kill himself. But he kept himself alive through +sheer will power, to help me out of my scrapes. After I left, he was +free to surrender. For all he ever knew, I ended up the doctor he hoped +I’d be.” She shook her head. “Such a good man. So kind, so humanly +frail. I loved him, Jack.” + +“I got quite a biography of him from Jim,” Jack said. “His drinking, his +poverty, his tantrums. Jim’s bitter as hell.” + +“I was the cause of most of it,” Beebo said. “What happened to Jim?” + +“He sent me a letter from the University of Wisconsin. He said your +father didn’t have any money, but you could have any of his belongings +you wanted. If he doesn’t hear from you before the end of this month +he’s going to sell what he can and throw out the rest.” + +“Is that all?” + +“He said he was sorry for you but he never wants to lay eyes on you +again.” + +She laughed sourly. “I’ll bet,” she said. “That’s the nicest he’s ever +put it, too. I never loved him, Jack, but he’s all the family I have, +and he’s no family at all. It’s too bad ... but he’s right. We’re poison +together. I guess I’ll let him sell Dad’s things. I have his picture and +my memories. They’re worth more to me than some worn-out furniture.” + +She fell into bed soon after, lying in the familiar warmth and watching +Jack move around the room. She envied the fullness and strength of his +arms and chest. + +When the lights were out she asked him softly, “Jack? How’s Paula Ash?” + +“Pretty lonesome.” + +“Do you see her at all?” + +“All the time. We shore each other up.” + +“What do you do together?” + +“Talk about Pat and Beebo.” + +Beebo smiled faintly in the dark. “Is that all? Does she hate me?” + +“No, little pal.” + +“Does she ... love me?” + +“You’ll have to ask Paula that one.” + +“Jack, is she living with anybody?” + +“She was. The girl with the Plaid Pajamas moved in for a while.” + +Beebo felt an odd melancholy that had nothing to do with her father or +Venus. “Have you met her? Plaid Pajamas?” + +“Yes.” + +“Who is she?” + +“Nobody you’d go for. Didn’t Paula tell you about her?” + +“Not much.” + +“Well, you’ll meet her one of these days,” he said. + +That was all she could get out of him. + + * * * * * + +Beebo spent the next week resting and living quietly out of sight. She +had no plans for wild revenge against Pete and Mona; only the wish to +forget, to learn to live with herself again. + +Venus was often in her thoughts and would be for a long time. But more +and more, as the hurt faded, she found herself preoccupied with Paula. +Paula, so real and so faithful; so unlike the fairy-tale princess, +Venus, who had vanished inevitably into Never-Never Land. Beebo had +crashed back to earth, and she wanted a real girl in her arms. + +The cackling in the papers about the Bogardus-Brinker affair made life +awkward for her for a while, with reporters trying to scout her down and +people whispering about her wherever she went. But the talk was slowly +yielding at the other end of the country to Venus’s surprising dignity. +She appeared in public at Leo’s side emphasizing the duration of their +life together. Both of them swore that their marriage had never been +stronger, and in a way, it was true. They needed each other extremely +then. + +The official story was that Beebo was a young woman who had taken a job +on the household staff and subsequently became a close friend of Toby’s. +Nobody was aware that she was harboring a feverish crush on Venus. When +the situation blew up in their faces, Venus and Leo were as startled and +shocked as the rest of the movie colony. They expressed their sympathy +for their unfortunate young friend and hoped she could find a happier +life somewhere else. + +“No one who knows me will believe that there was anything between this +poor girl and myself except a friendly relationship based on her +closeness to my son,” Venus was quoted. And Beebo, reading the +statement, could picture Leo writing and rewriting it at the desk in his +library, with a cigar fuming in his mouth and a glass of orange juice +nearby. + +Somehow, Leo brought it off—partly by expending huge sums on public +relations and partly by exploiting Toby’s illness: he hinted broadly +that unless the furor died down, the boy’s health was in danger of +permanent damage. + +Beebo shed a few tears over it in private. But it was, after all, as +merciful towards her as Leo and Venus dared to make it. Her picture was +kept out of the papers. She still had some anonymity in this biggest of +all big cities. + + * * * * * + +It had been two weeks since she returned to New York; weeks spent +resting and job-hunting. Beebo was tense throughout the day, for that +night the second segment of _Million Dollar Baby_ was scheduled for +showing. It was the one in which Venus sang, “I’m Putting My All On +You”—the song Leo and Beebo had coaxed out of her that night in the +recreation room. + +Beebo tried all day to forget about it. But when she came home again +that night without a job, Jack had to cheer her up with a cold martini. +“When are you going to call Paula?” he said casually. + +“Paula who?” she said with a little smile. + +Jack pinched her amiably in the arm. “She wants to see you. This would +be a dandy night not to watch television.” + +“How do you know Paula wants to see me?” + +“Well, if she hadn’t called to say so, I’d still know. I’m telepathic.” + +“You’re psychopathic. What am I supposed to do, go over there and beat +the daylights out of Miss Plaid Pajamas? You said they were living +together.” + +“_Were_—past tense. I don’t know what the situation is now, with you +home. Anyway, pal, what’s the matter with you? Afraid of a little fight? +Or isn’t Paula worth it?” + +“What are you promoting it for, Jackson? Taking bets?” + +“If the Pajamas are still hanging around, you can take her with one hand +behind your back. Leo must have taught you _something_.” + +“And after I kayo her, then what do I do?” + +“You claim the fair damsel, stupe,” Jack said. “Jesus, you’re thick +sometimes, Beebo.” He chuckled at her. + +Beebo sobered slightly. “Jack, I’m not so sure. I mean, I hurt Paula. I +was damned unfair and unfeeling with her.” + +“Really? _Unfeeling?_” + +“I ditched her for what must seem like the cheapest kind of affair, when +Paula needed me and Venus only wanted me.” + +“You’re ashamed of yourself. Is that why you’re stalling? Beebo, don’t +you know a girl in love is always ready to forgive her lover?” + +“Provided the lover’s in love with her,” Beebo said. + +“Well, aren’t you? Not one letter did I get from California that you +didn’t fret and worry over Paula Ash.” + +Beebo looked at him. “I’ve been thinking about just two people for the +past two weeks: Venus and Paula. And every day, it’s more Paula and less +Venus. And yet I think if Venus were to call and say, ‘Come back, I +can’t stand it without you’—I’d go.” + +“No, you wouldn’t, pal. You’ve learned too much.” Jack nodded at the +phone. “Besides, she’ll never call. Venus Bogardus isn’t real any more. +She’s the doll millions of us will watch and covet tonight on TV. And +you’re just one of the millions now.” + +Beebo felt momentarily swamped with frustration. Gradually she became +aware of Jack’s voice saying, “Paula doesn’t belong to the public or a +bank or a one-track husband. She doesn’t have any of those things. Paula +can get up when the show is over and turn the set off, and come back to +your side, ready for love. Venus will be gone forever with a turn of the +knob.” + +Beebo lighted a cigarette to cover her emotion. “Maybe I should call +Paula. The least I can do is apologize. But I don’t want to see her till +I’m sure—” + +“Sure of what?” Jack said. “Loving her? Beebo, you can wait a lifetime +trying to be sure of love. You didn’t wait to be sure of Venus. I didn’t +wait to be sure of Pat.” + +“And look how those affairs turned out,” she said. + +“If we had waited, we wouldn’t have known any happiness at all with +them. I still love Pat. We’re friends and I think we always will be. +Venus loves you, Beebo, and the things you gave her are the most +precious in her life. Because of her, you’re growing up a little, at +last. Would you rather it had never happened, just because it hurt?” + +She glanced at him, puzzled. “No. But I don’t want to hurt Paula any +more. She doesn’t deserve anything but my love, and I don’t know if I +can give her that yet.” + +“Well, she can give you hers. And right now, that makes her the strong +one. You need love and it’s her joy to give it. Maybe the gift will +transform the recipient. That’s what happened to Venus.” + +“God, if I could make myself love her, I would,” Beebo said, but Jack +laughed at her. + +“Hell, honey, that’s _her_ job,” he said. “Be honest with her and she’ll +take it from there. If she’s willing to risk a love affair with you now, +knowing all she knows, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” + +Beebo doused her cigarette. “Can you eat all that hamburger by +yourself?” she said, pointing at it. + +“Without the slightest strain.” He smiled at her. + +“Okay,” she said, answering the smile reluctantly. “I’m going calling. +But if I come back here tonight with two black eyes and a broken heart, +by God, Mann, you’re going to pay for it.” + +“I can’t wait,” he said. + +Beebo threw a plastic saucer at him, which he fielded deftly, and left +with his laughter in her ears. + + * * * * * + +She walked through the night air, crisp and cold enough to crack if you +just knew how to grasp it, all the way to McDonald Street. It was easy +enough to find Paula’s building. Not so easy to go in and ring her bell. + +Beebo looked at the small black button for several minutes before she +pressed it. When the answer sounded at once, she wondered if Jack had +called to forewarn Paula. She opened the door and walked down the hall +with the feeling of reliving in life what she had once dreamed an eon +ago. + +Paula’s door was open as it had been the night they met. A slice of +light lay across the hall. Beebo felt her heart beating higher in her +chest. Soon Paula would appear in a pair of plaid pajamas that weren’t +hers, and say sleepily, “Yes?” + +But she didn’t. Beebo stopped at her door and waited. She could feel +Paula’s presence somewhere just inside the room. Finally she glanced in, +blinking at the light. Paula was leaning against the far wall, facing +the door. Her hair had grown quite long in the few months since they had +seen each other, and it washed over her pink silk shoulders in an auburn +tide. + +Her eyes were enormous and there was a flush of love and fear in her +cheeks. She wasn’t just pretty. She was so lovely that Beebo’s breath +caught in her throat. Everything Paula felt and feared and hoped for +shone on her face. + +Beebo stood in the doorway, her hands characteristically shoved into her +pockets, her bright blue eyes fixed on this gentle girl who, incredibly, +learned to love her in three days and loved her still after three +months. + +“Paula,” Beebo said. “Are you still my Paula?” + +“Still yours,” she answered. + +“I don’t see any plaid pajamas around,” Beebo said, but it was no +wonder: she didn’t see anything around that room but Paula Ash. + +“She left,” Paula said. “The day you came home. I told her to leave. Oh, +Beebo.” Paula shut her eyes, and when she opened them, Beebo was +standing beside her, hesitating, absorbing the mystery of their +attraction. + +“Paula, I feel as if I’m seeing you for the first time,” Beebo said. “I +swear I do.” + +“I’m no match for the goddess,” Paula said, smiling without any malice. +She was prompted by an innocent little-girl need to be admired and +loved, so transparent that it charmed Beebo completely. + +“The goddess was no match for you.” Strangely, all at once, it was true. +“Jack was right—you’re the real woman.” She closed the small space +between them, taking Paula’s shoulders in her big hands and kissing her +suddenly on the mouth. Paula put her arms around her, so hard Beebo +could feel her quivering. + +“Paula—darling—I want to know just one thing,” Beebo said. “Where are +your damn sleeping pills?” + +“I gave them to Jack the day you left,” Paula said. “Kiss me again, +Beebo.” Beebo obeyed her gladly, over and over, rediscovering with her +all the things they had learned to need and love in each other months +before. + +When Paula took Beebo’s hands and turned them palms up to kiss, Beebo +groaned with the delight she couldn’t hold back. “Paula,” she said, “oh, +Paula. I came here like the self-centered idiot I am, thinking I could +pay you off for what you’ve been through with a few silly kisses. Honey, +I’m the one who wants them. I’m the one who needs them. I just didn’t +have the sense to see it.” + +She was full of crazy joy that was part nostalgia, part relief, and +mostly desire. The touch, the fragrance, the feel of this marvelous girl +were beyond anything Beebo had remembered. + +Beebo picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, bending over her +on the bed, her hands supporting her weight on either side of Paula’s +face. “Oh, that hair, that mouth. Paula, I came so close to loving you +before. And then ... Jesus, she dazzled me. Honey, I was helpless with +her.” + +“Don’t explain, Beebo. I got through it somehow, and it’s over. Jack +practically adopted me. We talked all night every night for a week after +you left. He told me you’d be back, and he was so sure of it that I +believed him. I knew you weren’t in love with me, but I knew you wanted +me. And because of Jack, I never despaired. I wasn’t even afraid of Mona +any more. She thought I was nuts, but—” + +“Mona! Has she been after you, too?” Beebo flared. “Hasn’t she hurt me +enough? Does she have to take it out on you?” + +“You stood her up for me, remember?” + +“How could I forget?” Beebo leaned over to kiss her. “Unbutton me, +Paula,” she whispered. + +Paula complied with a tremor. “Mona thought she owned me,” she said +softly. “She shucked me off months before, but I wasn’t supposed to love +anybody new for the rest of my life.” + +“Paula ...” Beebo seized her hands and looked at her searchingly. “Are +you trying to tell me—oh my God!—was _Mona_ the girl in the plaid +pajamas?” + +Paula nodded, still opening buttons until Beebo’s shirt slipped off. +“She came back this fall when you left. She wanted information about you +at first, but then she decided to live with me again. I let her do it. I +supposed I was looking for a way to hurt you both. Make you jealous, and +get even with Mona for the pain she gave me. She was astounded when I +told her to get lost two weeks ago. She’s still waiting for you to snub +me, and then she’ll come back to say, ‘I told you so.’” + +“That’s one thing she’ll never say,” Beebo said emphatically. “She won’t +have the chance. How could you fall for a girl like that, darling? You +so sweet all the way through, and Mona so sour?” + +“It’s you I love, Beebo. Let’s not talk about Mona.” + +Beebo kicked her slacks off, lying down beside Paula. “Did you know Mona +was going to send that smear to the gossipists?” she asked. + +“Yes,” Paula confessed and shocked Beebo. “I’ll be truthful. This is the +hardest thing I have to tell you, Beebo. I knew, and maybe I could have +stopped her, I’m not sure. But I didn’t even try. I knew it would +separate you and Venus. It would have come sooner or later, but I wanted +you so awfully and this was the fastest way to do it. I couldn’t have +done it to you myself. But when I found out what Mona and Pete were up +to, I didn’t have the guts to stop them.” + +There was a long silence. “Beebo, I forgive you everything. Can you +forgive me this?” Paula’s voice, slight and sweet as herself, hung close +to tears. This was the test. + +Beebo turned Paula’s face up to hers finally and kissed it. “You have +far more to forgive than I do,” she said. “If you can, so can I.” + +Once again they held each other, immersed in the swell of love. Paula +lay beneath Beebo, letting her work a while; letting the ardor slowly +take fire inside her, until the urge to respond became irresistible. + +Then, suddenly, her head went back in a beautiful arch, into a pool of +auburn hair. Her body heaved against Beebo’s, and one of her legs +slipped between her lover’s. Her hands began to wander through Beebo’s +close-cropped curls, over her broad back and trim hips, caressing her +everywhere. Beebo answered her with gratitude, amazement, and the first +warm thrill of real love. Not an infatuation that knocks the breath out +of you and dislocates your life for a while. But the slow sure kind, +strong and reassuring, that holds together. Honesty, trust, respect, all +were growing between them. + +When they had slept a little, Beebo raised herself up on one elbow to +light a cigarette and talk. “You know something, Paula,” she said. “I +tried to tell you this our first night together, and you wouldn’t +believe it. But it’s true, and it has a lot to do with the way I feel +about you now.” + +“What, darling?” Her look of love, so womanly and so complete, moved +Beebo warmly. + +“You brought me out, Paula. You were the first. I spent my life back +home saying no to everything but my daydreams. There wasn’t a soul I +could have touched without the whole town finding out. It would have +killed my father. That’s one of the reasons I had to leave. Paula, you +precious girl. God, how lucky I was that it was you.” + +“It might have been Venus,” Paula said. + +“If it had, I’d have botched it. She would have laughed at me.” + +“Her show is on,” Paula said, looking at the clock-radio by the bed. +“Want to watch it?” + +“No thanks.” + +“I think you should. Come on, I’ll watch it with you.” Paula got up +smiling and pulled her halfway out of bed. + +“Paula, honey, I don’t give a damn—” + +“No fibs!” Paula cautioned, throwing her pink silk wrapper around +herself. “Come with me, Beebo.” She stood at the bedroom door, waiting, +and Beebo couldn’t turn her down. She stood up, but not without +misgivings. + +The show had already started and the commercial was in progress. Beebo +took Paula in her arms and together they settled back on the sofa. + +“If you had refused to look, I would really have been scared,” Paula +admitted. “I would have thought you were still tied to Venus +emotionally—too much to bear to see her, even on the screen.” She +twisted around in Beebo’s arms to look at her face and kissed her +swiftly a dozen times till Beebo was suddenly embracing her tightly and +murmuring her name eagerly. + +Paula was trembling with the immensity of her feeling, full of whirling +thoughts hard to word. “I know you don’t love me yet the way I love you, +Beebo,” she said at last. “But God, I hope you will. It’s kept me +going—that hope—all this time. You felt so right to me.” + +Beebo stroked her hair and gazed at her, unaware that Venus, in black +satin, was singing, “I’m Putting My All On You.” + +“You’ve only seen the rough side of gay love,” Paula told her. “People +can be so cruelly selfish. Even the people who try to be good to you, +and I guess Venus tried. + +“Darling, Lesbian love doesn’t have to be brief or heartbreaking, just +because it’s a love between two women. I want to teach you that. I want +to live with you and do things for you and even let you do things for +me. + +“Oh, Beebo, don’t you see it? Women have a special knack for loving. +Even Venus, in her way, found that knack. There’s a tenderness, an +instinctive sympathy, between two women when their love is right ... +it’s very rare in any kind of love. But it comes near perfection between +women. + +“You haven’t known that tenderness yet. You’ve only known a hectic +affair with a fantastically difficult actress. I want to give you a +home. I want you to come back to me every night and know you’ll be loved +and cared for and spoiled. Beebo, darling, I want you to spoil me a +little, too.” + +“Paula, it’ll be a pleasure,” Beebo smiled. + +Paula relaxed in her lap and Beebo put her hand back on the cushions. +They watched the end of the song as the camera closed in on the face of +Venus Bogardus. She was talking the words the way Beebo had suggested, +her head tilted to one side and her eyes full, glittering with a +give-away brilliance of real tears. + +At the end, she let her head drop so that her gleaming hair swung around +her face and hid her eyes. The tune—just a gimmicky little love song to +begin with—had become a torch. And for just one moment, Venus was living +flesh for Beebo again. + +Beebo moved Paula off her lap and got up, going to the TV and turning it +off. “It’s not that I’m still close to her, Paula,” she said, coming +back to the sofa. “It’s just that that was goodby. From her to me.” + +They looked at each other. “Did you really love her, Beebo?” Paula +whispered. + +Beebo sat down and took both of Paula’s hands in hers and kissed them in +a gesture that had become special to them both. And then she pulled +Paula down on the couch in her arms and kissed her neck until she +squirmed and laughed. “I won’t know for sure what love is till I’ve +spoiled you for a while, sweetheart,” Beebo grinned. + + + THE END + of an Original Gold Medal Novel by + Ann Barron + + + + + Transcriber’s Notes + + +The original spelling was mostly preserved. A few obvious typographical +and punctuation errors as well as variations in hyphenation were +silently amended. All other changes are shown here (before/after): + + [p. 25]: + ... ravioli, and drew it out with a potholder, spooning in onto ... + ... ravioli, and drew it out with a potholder, spooning it onto ... + + [p. 34]: + ... that run his wife’s errands and pocket all the money Marie ... + ... than run his wife’s errands and pocket all the money Marie ... + + [p. 49]: + ... told me. He looks hungry, as if he needed to be cared for.” ... + ... told me. He looks hungry, as if he needs to be cared for.” ... + + [p. 50]: + ... must be waiting to erupt someone so intense, so yearning, ... + ... must be waiting to erupt from someone so intense, so + yearning, ... + + [p. 80]: + ... the cotton tops out far enough to brush Beebo’s chest with ... + ... the cotton top out far enough to brush Beebo’s chest with ... + + [p. 151]: + ... “Oh, you don’t have to worry. He likes kids. Beside, + he’s ... + ... “Oh, you don’t have to worry. He likes kids. Besides, + he’s ... + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79057 *** |