Last Exit to Brooklyn

by Hubert Selby Jr.

  Camille had finished her bath, collected her brushes and was primping in the bathroom when the bell rang. Georgette almost jumped to the door, but contained herself, sat back, leaning her head to one side hoping the light was falling on her face properly, and waited for someone to open the door. She held her cigarette daintily and tried to hide her excitement. Over an hour since the call and though Miss Camille, while in the tub, had afforded Georgette an opportunity to appear relaxed and carefree, during the time that elapsed since Camille finished Georgette was forced to retain her position, and the center of attraction, by amusing the others with stories, laying this one and that one out, the girls laughing at her wit; continually talking and hoping the bell would ring before too many seconds of silence forced her to think of what to say next or allowed the others to become conscious of time and ask about Vinnie (VINNIE!!! Vinnie had to come) or allowed her fears to come back to the surface . . . but the bell rang and she swallowed another bennie, finished her bouillon and once again adjusted herself on her throne.

  Goldie opened the door and the boys strolled in, looked around, stood in the kitchen, looking, until Vinnie led the way into the living room. Whatayasay Georgie? Hows the leg? O, just fine, thank you, tilting her head to the side just a wee bit more and taking a quick Bette Davis like drag on her cigarette. The other guys strolled around the room, eventually flopping here and there. Harrys eyes bugged when he saw Lee. She looked like one of the show girls you see in some of the magazines (her hair was shoulder length and golden blond and she was always smartly in drag), a real doll. Harry kept staring, not digging the score. He had never been to Goldies before and he thought maybe she was Rosie the freak he had heard the guys talk about, but man, she didnt look like no freak. She looked like a real fine piecea ass. Goldie prepared drinks, putting a bennie in each, and stepped lightly through the rooms dispensing them, smiling and simply brimming over with joy. Lee told Rosie to bring her another pack of cigarettes and when Rosie simpered and said no Lee pointed a finger at her and told her to bring them here at once or you will be out on the street with the other freaks, Miss Cocksucker. (Harry looked at Lee, still puzzled, then figured she must be one of the queens. But shes still a fine piecea ass.) Rosie threw the cigarettes to Lee and ran to the bathroom and pounded on the door until Camille unlocked it, then stepped around her and sat on the floor between the sink and the toilet-bowl. O really Rosie. I mean! Camille sniffed, primped her hair again, peeked out, walked to the kitchen and slowly inched her way to the living room hoping her makeup was on properly (that light over the mirror is simply terrible) and glided into the room and slowly lowered herself beside Goldie and, as did the other girls, surveyed the prospective suitors. Her eyes almost blurred with excitement. They had such hard looks. Why their eyes went right through you as if you were naked. She squirmed slightly. But it is wonderful. But what should she do? Of course she had never even so much as hinted the truth to the other girls, but she was a virgin. She had talked with a few of the queens back home and they told her how to go about doing it, always cautioning her never, but never to take it out of her mouth when he was coming because it might just get all over you and in your eyes and you know honey, you can go blind from that, and anyway thats the moment when everything just explodes and you wont want to take it out . . . But how do you start? what do you say??? O, I hope everything will be alright.

  Goldie inquired if they were ready for another drink and they said yeah, but not so much of that sodashit. Thats o k for you girls, but I like somethin with a kick, so Goldie swished lightly to the kitchen, lowering her eyes at Malfie, fixed another drink with just a drop of mixer and another bennie, distributed the drinks and asked them if they would like a bennie. Sure, why not. So she passed the box around, telling them to take two, then sat down glancing coyly from time to time, at Malfie.

  Georgette no longer tried to control the conversation, but concentrated on Vinnie, trying, of course, to give a disinterested impression, wanting to let her friends see that he was hers. She tried toying with Harry, hoping to arouse a sense of jealousy in Vinnie, but Harry continually grabbed her by the ears and rubbed his crotch and tolder he got a nice fat lob forer ta suck, and Georgette sat back on her throne and threw her head to the side and told him she wasnt interested in boys, Miss Pinkie, then leaned toward Vinnie when she saw him staring at Lee. Vinnie was hip to Lee, but she still looked like a lovely doll and he thought of her as a dame. Lee enjoyed the idea of them staring at her, but turned her head and spoke to Goldie or Camille or the room in general. After all, she had worked in some of the best drag joints and had been featured in the professional magazines and it certainly would be beneath her dignity to openly fraternize with roughtrade (admittedly though she did enjoy them within the safety of the apartment). That may be alright for Georgette, and the others, but someone in her position couldnt afford to be seen with scum, and their manners are far too repulsive . . . but it might be fun to play with them . . . Camille continued to look, worry and hope.

  Goldie asked Malfie if he would like another drink and he said sure sweetheart, fillerup and Goldie filled the glass with gin, just a bit of mixer, no bennie (too much might kill his nature), yelled for Rosie to get more gin like a good girl. Rosie smiled, you like me Goldie? and Goldie patted her head, of course Rosie. Now run along like a good girl and get the gin. When Goldie handed the drink to Malfie she brushed lightly against his leg and smiled. Malfie raised his eyes slightly and Goldie twittered and asked if he would like some pot. Yamean weed? Of course darling. Yeah. She rushed into the bedroom (he didnt move his leg), came out with a small cookie tin and passed the joints around. Georgette blasted with a flourish, letting the ash get long and loose then dragging hard and sucking the ash in with the smoke. She laughed loudly, turning and pointing to be certain that everyone was aware why she was laughing, and watched Harry as he struggled with the stick and ranked him as he covered his nose and mouth trying to suppress a cough. You should have asked us to show you how Harold. Theres no sense in wasting good pot on amateurs. Georgette enjoyed the light laughter and sat back sucking hard on her joint, pointing at Harry as he continued to struggle, feeling her eyes cloud slightly . . . She rolled her shoulders and looked at her Vinnie then turned back to Harry as he finally stopped choking and tolder ta shuter mout, ya cocksucker. I am an expert in my field honey. No body can suck a cock better than I. But you!!! why youre not even a good thief. Youre just rank, and she sucked the joint down to an 1/8th of an inch then dropped the roach in her mouth and, smiling disdainfully, leaned over and took the partially smoked stick from Harry. His body was as sluggish as his imagination and he only got partway to his feet then sat down, trying to ignore the smiles of the guys and the twittering of the queens, straining to think of something to say, but only mumbling, fag. Shutup and take your dope pills, ya hop-head. Lee burst out with a roar and told Georgette she was surprised that her friends were so square. Not all of them honey, and she flourished her wrist and tapped Vinnie on the knee. Lee continued to rank Harry, but he was getting frightfully nasty and Lee started getting nervous and asked Goldie to turn on the radio and get some music. Goldie tuned in a jazz program and they slowly relaxed with the tea and the music. Harry wanted to open a window, but the guys said nothing and the queens frowned so he sat still, sipping his drink and watching Lee. Goldie watched Malfies eyes fog, then stared at his chest as it swelled with the beating of his heart, told him he may as well take his shirt off as having it hanging open like that, then watched his flesh move and shine with sweat, loving the small mat of hair between his breasts and the sweat rolling down and into the mat. Rosie had been knocking on the door for almost a minute before Lee, annoyed with the manner in which Miss Goldie was ogling Maine, got up in a huff and opened the door. She took the gin from Rosie, put it on the table in the living room, took four more bennie and a glass of hot bouillon and sat down, disgusted, and tried to withdraw as far as possible from the sordid party. Cant even take a few bennie and a little p
ot without simply drifting off. How ridiculous. I must say Georgette that I dont think much of these men friends of yours. I thought they were hip. Goldie heard, but didnt bother to look at her and continued to stare at Malfie, thinking of how wonderful it was that they werent used to bennie (getting kicks too from turning them (him) on), and waiting for the time to fly, as it does when youre up on bennie, and stop with her and Malfie. Georgette went to the kitchen, brought back a bowl of ice and a bottle of mixer, and filled hers and Vinnies glasses. There is no need to worry Miss Lee. They dont want to have anything to do with the likes of you. Vinnie was digging the conversation, but was goofed with the tea and didnt bother to say anything, and just took the drink from Georgette and looked over his glass at Lee, letting the smoke come slowly from his nose, and gave her a gee look until Lee turned her head then Vinnie pursed his lips at Camille and smiled, glowing inside at the fear in her eyes. Dont worry chippy, nobodys gonna hurtya. Maybe fuckya a little—Georgette asked him for a cigarette and he told her ta smoke her own and she fumbled for a moment until she was certain he was finished speaking to Camille, then found them.

  Rosie sucked at a glass of gin, sitting at Goldies feet, and Georgette worried about Vinnie going with one of the other girls and what they would say if he did . . . then stopped worrying about what they might say but simply about keeping them away from him. She wanted them to think he was her lover, but more than that she wanted him as her lover. Even if only once. If only that. She took another bennie with her gin and listened to the music. The Bird was playing. She tilted her head toward the radio and listened to the hard sounds piling up on each other, yet not touching, wanting to hold Vinnies hand, the strange beautiful sounds (bennie, tea and gin too) moving her to a strange romance where love was born of affection, not sex; wanting to share just this, just these three minutes of the Bird with Vinnie, these three minutes out of space and time and just stand together, perhaps their hands touching, not speaking, yet knowing ... just stand complete with and for each other not as man and woman or two men, not as friends or lovers, but as two who love . . . these three minutes together in a world of beauty, a world where there wasnt even a memory of johns or punks, butch queens or Arthurs, just the now of love . . .

  and the strange rhythms of the Bird ripped to her, the piling patterns of sound all falling properly and articulately into place, and there was no wonderment at the Bird blowing love.

  Then it was over and the background music came in and Georgette looked up and her eyes cleared as she saw the sick look in Harrys eyes as he looked at Rosies snatch. Her legs were raised and she rested her head on her knees staring at a spot on the rug, waiting, as always, for Goldie to speak and she would jump. Georgette turned her head and tried to think the Bird back into her mind, but she slowly turned her head back, unable to ignore Rosie, or avoid thinking about her. Rosie had always been more than taken for granted—she had never been thought of. Not even as a demented human, but as a scooper: someone to scoop up the empties; to buy the bennie; to meet the connection . . . Georgette looked at the spot on the rug, then back at Rosies face. Who was Rosie? What? Did she think? What did she feel? She must feel something or why would she stay with Goldie? Had she ever loved? Was she ever loved? Could she love? Georgette looked at the leer on Harrys face, the lust breaking through the junk facade. If Rosie were to move Harry would jump up and lay her right there—hold her arms, bend over her with his leering face next to hers ( spit dribbling from his mouth) and shove it in if he had to fight for—Georgette lifted her head so she couldnt see his face. If Harry did have sex with her would she enjoy it? Would Rosie feel anything? Did she ever think of it? Did she ever long for love??? An analogy started to form and Georgette had to fight it, she had to fight before it defined itself or she would not be able to ignore or deny it. She popped more bennie and gulped gin. She almost puked from the gin and in panic ht a cigarette and sat still, smoking, until the nausea passed (the analogy becoming fainter) then turned up the radio and concentrated on the music, snapping her fingers, looking at Vinnie and hoping the bennie would soon overtake the tea and Vinnie would get with it.

  Camille asked Georgette what the name of the number was that was being played, saying she liked it very much, and Georgette told her, and who was blowing and Camille started moving slightly in time with the music and Lee turned to her and told her not to wiggle like a slut in heat. And I really dont see how you can listen to that trashy music Georgette. You who love Opera so much. O really Miss Thing—Camille moved back and sat still—take the icecube out of your ass. Vinnie laughed and Georgette turned to him, coyly, turning the volume up a little more and marked one up on Lee, took a drink of gin and when the record ended and another came on she asked Camille if she liked it, digging the glance she directed at Lee—well dont look at me honey. Its your bad taste not mine—and Camille wished she new what to say, if she liked it or not (did she like it?), looked at Sal and shivered again. Its alright, I guess (would he be as rough as he looks?).

  The phone rang and Goldie tapped Rosie on the head and she jumped up and answered it, then turned to Goldie and said it was Sheila. Goldie listened, said yes and hung up. Shes coming home with an all night John so we will have to go down to Miss Tonys. O that place is loathsome. Well Lee, you can always go home, if you have one. Rosie, heat up the bouillon. O I think youre awful, living with a woman. O youre just jealous Lee. Why dont you just go about your own business Georgette. Honestly Goldie, I really dont see how you do it, even if she does support you and keep you in bennie. I think that that is my business Miss Lee. Hey, whats all this bullshit about? Were going downstairs to someone elses apartment. That is if its alright with you Harold. I honestly dont see how you can have sex with her Goldie. Or do you only eat it? O O OOO. Goldie flew from the room and Rosie spit at Lee and ran after her. O for heavens sake, dont be so touchy. The guys started stirring and digging the scene, but didnt know from nothin, so they just shrugged and Georgette looked after Goldie and inquired if she was alright and Camille was much taken aback, after all this is not the way ladies should act. And Lee is supposed to be so elegant. This sort of thing never happened back home. But it is exciting and he is so manly; and Lee said she was terribly sorry, I didnt mean to upset you dear. Its just that Tonys place is so dreary, with the electricity turned off and everything, and I guess I just have the rag on tonight anyway, so they kissed and made up, and they all helped finish the bouillon (with a few more bennie) gathered the gin and bennie and went downstairs, the guys stumbling behind, not sure exactly what was happening but having kicks and too high to care, and walked into Tonys apartment.

  She was sleeping so Goldie lit a few candles and told her Sheila was turning a trick so they had to come down here and Im sure you dont mind honey, handing her some bennie, and told Rosie to make coffee. Rosie ht the small kerosene stove in the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. When it was ready she passed out paper cups of coffee then went back to the kitchen and made another pot, continuing to make pot after pot of coffee, coming in inbetween to sit at Goldies feet. The guys slowly snapped out of the tea goof and soon the bennie got to their tongues too and everybody yakked. Goldie said she felt ever so much better. I guess I needed a good cry and she passed around the bennie again and they all popped bennie and sipped hot coffee and Goldie sat next to Malfie and asked him if he was enjoying himself, and he said yeah, Im havin a ball; and Goldie just floated along on a soft purple cloud, feeling luxurious and slightly smug: a handsome piece of trade beside her; wonderful girl friends; and a beautiful bennie connection in the corner drugstore where she could get a dozen 10 grain tablets for 50cents. O this is divine. I mean the candlelight and everything . . . it brings to mind Genet. Genet? I fail to see how this reminds you of her. Whose this junay? A french writer Vinnie. I am certain you would not know about such things—I really dont see how all this gloom reminds you of Genet (Georgette looked at Lee as she talked and glanced at Vinnie and sighed. Vinnie will never have anything to do with her aft
er that remark). I mean she is so beautiful. Well that is exactly what I mean darling. She creates such beauty out of the tortured darkness of our souls—O well, yes. That is true enough—and I feel so beautiful. Hey! wheres the shithouse. Georgette jumped up (Camille was shocked and looked askance) and said it is outside. I will show you. Vinnie walked past her, patted her on the ass. Thats o k sweetchips, I can find it. Georgette whirled slightly and sat down, smiling and chalking another one up. O it will be so wonderful . . . later. Rosie was passing more coffee around and Harry asked her if she blew cock and she fell back spilling some of the coffee. Goldie told her to be more careful, you might have burned someone, and Rosie wailed and buried her head in Goldies lap and Goldie told her it was alright. Nobody was hurt. You can continue serving the coffee, and Rosie smiled a smile of salvation and stepped over the feet and passed out the coffee; and Georgette looked at the tears slowly streaking Rosies face and glistening in the sepia room; and Harry thought it might be kicks ta sloff it inna weird dame like that. Whattsa matta Rosie? afraida my lob? Rosie backed out of the room and Harry laughed and asked the guys if they saw the look oner face. Man, shes a real weirdy. Whered yapick that up? Goldie said she found her somewhere and Camille went out to the kitchen to see if Rosie was alright, thinking Harry was terribly cruel and Goldie should not let them do that to her. She did not see Rosie immediately and stared at the low blue flame of the kerosene stove, the perking coffee looking like a witches brew. Then she saw Rosie sitting in the corner, her head resting on her knees. Camille was nervous, but felt she should try to comfort her. She called softly, tentatively, then stood silent for a moment listening to the coffee perking, the strong rhythm broken every third or fourth beat with a double beat, then she looked back in the living room and everyone was talking, drinking (Georgette seemed to have been watching her), and when she caught Sals eye she blushed and turned back to Rosie and called her again. Rosie sat in the corner with her head on her knees. Camille walked over to her, carefully avoiding the stove, asked if she was alright. Why dont you come back inside Rosie, lightly touching her shoulder. Rosie jerked her head around, bit Camilles hand, looked at her for a moment then put her head back on her knees. Camille screeched and ran back to the living room clutching her injured hand, extending it before her. She bit me, she bit me, that crazy little thing. She turned in a circle, arms still stiffly extended, jumping up and down. What thefucks wrong wit you? O she bit me. O for heavens sake Camille sit down. Sit down. O she bit me. Shaddup. Harry pushed her and she fell on Lee and they screeched and tried to right themselves, but Camille kept falling down as she tried to push herself up then remembered her hand and halfway up she would try to clutch it and fall again, her arms whirling in the air and she rolled off Lee and Lee fought frantically to keep her skirts down, all the time yelling at Camille to get off her and Camille finally raised herself to her knees and grabbed the elusive hand and searched for the teeth marks. Dont worry little girl, yawont get the rabyz. Lee sat up and smoothed her skirt and threw Camille a vicious glance, O really Miss Thing, and took a mirror from her pocketbook, examined her face then dove in her pocketbook and extracted her comb, cosmetics and hurredly fixed her face. Camille finally sat down and continued to examine her finger, completely ignoring the laughter. O it was terrible. All I did was try to speak to her and she bit me. She bit me like----like some kind of animal. O it was terrible. Why didntya biter back? She/d get the crud. Here, dipit in the hot coffee. Goldie was laughing as hard as the rest but managed to lean over and offer solace and bennie. O yes, please. She brought me down something dreadful. O . . . she scooped up the bennie and dropped them in her mouth (with her good hand) then picked up her coffee (with her good hand) and took a few tiny sips until the bennie were down. Hey, what time does the next show start? They were all laughing, except Camille, and Lee only sneered at first, but when she finished putting her face on she too relaxed and joined the party, each new remark bringing forth a loud guffaw and refined laughter; Camille sitting with a peevish look on her face; but the boys were having a ball, not too sure what they were laughing about, but really digging the bennie scene, enjoying the cold chills and the strange feeling in their jaws as they clenched and ground their teeth (Harry wondering if maybe he oughtta go out to the kitchen and straighten Rosie out); Georgette content to relax and laugh ( she was 3 up on Lee ) yet still watchful for an opportunity to regain the center of attraction; and Goldie was ethereal . . . things were going so well and she was atingle with anticipation; but poor Camille felt ashamed and tried to relax and laugh it off but O it was so terribly embarrassing. She had carried on so; and Lee was determined to maintain her aloofness (yet she did not want to estrange herself from Goldie ), the aloofness that her beauty and position demanded. The laughter continued even after they were too breathless from laughing to continue dropping remarks, and Goldie called for more coffee and Rosie made the rounds once more and retired to the kitchen and started a new pot and sat in the corner with her head on her knees. Goldie counted the bennie determining that there would be enough left for a few rounds (and by then the drugstore would be open) and handed more out. Vinnie asked for some gin (spurts of giggling still coming forth) and Georgette offered her glass but Vinnie refused (the code forbids drinking from the same glass as a fag) so she filled a paper cup for him, hoping this would not alter the score and glanced at Lee but she did not seem to notice; and Tony said thank you after taking a bennie and wondered if they would share their trade with her and trying desperately to think of something to say or do that would draw everyones attention to her and make them aware of her presence and perhaps Goldie would be grateful and one of the men would find her attractive. She looked around the room, smiling and rapidly blinking her eyes . . . then jumped up and jerked open a drawer and took out a new candle. She slammed the drawer closed and tripped lightly to the candle that was burned to the bottom, lit the new one and placed it carefully over the old one. There, that is much better, then sat down happily and beaming at Goldie certain she would appreciate the act.