Blood Games

by Richard Laymon

  After the ferry ride back to the Battery, Vivian had suggested they walk over to the World Trade Center. ‘It’s only a few blocks from here.’

  ‘Kiss my sweaty butt,’ Helen had told her.

  ‘Thank you,’ Abilene had said.

  Skipping the World Trade Center, they’d taken the subway back into mid-town, gotten off at the wrong stop, and hiked for an hour before reaching the Hilton.

  A brief rest, a change of clothes, and they’d soon been off again. This time, to Greenwich Village for dinner and the Brecht play.

  They’d gotten off the subway at the Houston Street station.

  Then they’d gone exploring, wandering up and down narrow streets, going into clothes stores and bookshops, walking past sidewalk cafes, scanning menus in restaurant windows. Somehow, they’d found themselves across the street from a park. After checking her guidebook, Vivian had identified it as Washington Square.

  Joining a crowd at one end of the park, they’d spent a while watching a young man juggle machetes while riding a unicycle.

  Then they’d gone back to the maze of streets where they’d seen so many restaurants. Some of the eating places looked too crowded, others too formal, none just right. So they’d kept on walking, discovering streets they’d missed before, always on the lookout for a ‘neat place’ to have dinner.

  Helen was the one who found it.

  ‘My God!’ she’d gasped. ‘We’ve gotta eat here! We’ve gotta!’

  It was an Italian restaurant called ‘Grandpa’s.’ In the window near its entrance was taped a newspaper clipping: an article about the restaurant with a photograph of its owner.

  Its owner was Al Lewis, ‘Grandpa Munster’ from the old TV show.

  So in they’d gone, and Al Lewis had greeted them at the door. He wasn’t in costume. He wore trousers, a plaid shirt and a ball cap instead of his Munster outfit. But Helen had seemed no less excited about meeting him. She’d blushed and searched her purse for paper and shyly asked for his autograph.

  All through dinner, she’d stared at him.

  On their way out, Vivian stopped and asked him directions to the Dunsinane theater. While he’d explained how to get there, Helen had watched him in awestruck silence.

  ‘That was so great,’ she’d said when they were outside.

  ‘The high point of the trip, huh?’

  ‘Pretty near.’

  ‘Better than the Statue of Liberty?’

  She’d rolled her eyes upward and groaned.

  Mother Courage, with actors wandering into the audience and shouting in people’s faces, had seemed nearly as unnerving to Abilene as the winding staircase in the Statue. She was glad when it ended.

  ‘So where is the subway station?’ Helen asked.

  Finley grinned back at her. ‘It must’ve moved.’

  ‘It’s gotta be around here someplace.’ Vivian stopped at a corner, glanced at the street sign, and raised her guidebook close to her face.

  Abilene looked up at the sign and found herself grinning. ‘Hey, it’s Mulberry Street. And to think that I saw it.’

  ‘I don’t see it,’ Vivian murmured.

  ‘What?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Mulberry Street.’

  ‘And to think that I saw it,’ Abilene repeated.

  ‘What are you talking about, Hickok?’

  ‘Mulberry Street. Dr Seuss.’

  ‘Give us a break.’

  ‘I can’t find it on the map,’ Vivian said.

  ‘It’s gotta be on the map,’ Abilene told her. ‘It’s famous.’

  ‘You try and find it.’

  Vivian handed the guide book to Abilene. In the center of one page was a small map of Greenwich Village. She squinted at it under the streetlight. ‘Well, there’s MacDougal.’

  ‘But we’re on Mulberry. Where the hell is Mulberry Street?’ She kept looking at the map. Streets went every which way, going off at odd angles, ending, resuming elsewhere. She found no Mulberry Street. Finally, she shook her head. ‘I sure don’t see it.’

  ‘Look for Broome,’ Cora suggested. ‘We’re at Broome and Mulberry.’

  She studied the map, searching for Broome. ‘It’s not here either.’

  ‘Oh man,’ Helen moaned.

  Vivian grimaced. ‘I think we might’ve gotten off the map.’

  ‘Then where the hell are we?’ Abilene flipped the page over and found a small map of the East Village. ‘Could we be in the East Village?’ she asked.

  ‘You got me.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Helen said.

  ‘These street names don’t look very familiar,’ she said, and a drop of water hit the page. She lifted her face and a cool drop splashed her forehead. ‘I hate to mention it, folks. I think it’s starting to rain.’

  ‘I was hoping that was just a little bird shitting on my head,’ Finley said.

  ‘Just some drizzle,’ Cora said. ‘It won’t kill us. Let’s keep walking. We’re bound to come to a main road before long. If we can’t find a subway station, we’ll get a taxi.’

  Abilene handed the guidebook back to Vivian. ‘So which should we take?’ she asked. ‘Mulberry or Broome?’

  ‘Either way, we’re lost,’ Helen said.

  ‘Mulberry hasn’t gotten us anywhere,’ Cora said. ‘Let’s try Broome.’

  As they crossed the road, the raindrops began to fall more rapidly. By the time they reached the other side, the drizzle had turned into a shower.

  Walking backward at the head of the group, Finley stretched out her arms and said, ‘Could be worse.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Abilene asked. ‘We’re lost and it’s pouring.’

  ‘And my feet are killing me,’ Helen said.

  ‘At least we haven’t been mugged.’

  ‘The night’s still young,’ Abilene told her.

  Finley laughed and whirled around.

  ‘Where are all those damn taxis when you need them?’ Cora said.

  A few cars were passing on the street, headlights glaring on the slick pavement, tires swishing. There didn’t seem to be a cab among them. Nor were there any shops or restaurants in sight where they might take shelter and ask directions - or phone for a cab. There were only apartment buildings with dark entry-ways.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Helen said.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Abilene said.

  ‘Staying out of the rain,’ Finley called back.

  ‘We’re bound to find a taxi sooner or later,’ Vivian said. ‘Or a subway station.’

  As they walked past a recessed entryway, a derelict wrapped in a blanket raised his head and yelled, ‘Hey!’ Abilene’s stomach lurched. She hurried past him and looked back. He was out of sight.

  ‘Wanta ask him for directions?’ Finley asked.

  Cora elbowed her and she laughed.

  ‘This is getting a little too hairy for me,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Just consider it an adventure. That’s what we’re here for, right? Adventure! ’

  ‘Getting lost wasn’t what I had in mind,’ Vivian said.

  ‘Hell, it’s our last night in the Big Apple. At least it’ll be a memorable one.’

  ‘If we live through it,’ Helen said.

  ‘At least you can die happy,’ Finley told her. ‘You met Grandpa Munster.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ Vivian said. ‘Here comes someone.’

  Walking up the sidewalk toward them was a slim man dressed in jeans. His shirt was off. He walked briskly, swinging his shirt beside him.

  At least he’s not staggering, Abilene thought.

  ‘Everyone just stay calm,’ Cora advised. ‘If he tries anything, I’ll handle it.’

  As he neared them, he slowed his pace. He was a young man, rather handsome. ‘Are you ladies all right?’ he asked.

  ‘We’re not sure where we are,’ Vivian told him.

  Nodding and frowning, he stopped in front of her. His long hair was pulled back in a pony tail. His wet torso gleamed in the streetlight, and Abilene could see raindrops splashi
ng off his shoulders. ‘I wondered about that,’ he said. ‘If you knew where you were, you wouldn’t be here. This isn’t the best of neighborhoods, you know. You’re heading straight into the Bowery.’

  ‘Oh dandy,’ Finley said.

  ‘We’re trying to get back to our hotel,’ Vivian explained. ‘Where are you staying?’

  ‘The Hilton.’

  ‘You aren’t going to get there this way.’

  ‘We’ve been looking for a subway station.’

  ‘You won’t find one around here. I guess the best bet’d be Canal and Broadway.’

  ‘Where the hell is that?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Not far, but… maybe I’d better take you, make sure you get there in one piece.’

  ‘That bad?’ Cora asked.

  ‘I get scared and I live here. And I’m not a pretty young woman.’

  ‘We don’t want to take you out of your way,’ Vivian told him. ‘That’s okay. I was just on my way home anyway. My con-science’d bother me if I let you go on by yourselves.’

  ‘It’s mighty nice of you,’ Vivian said.

  I hope that’s what it is, Abilene thought. No telling what he might really be up to.

  He’s probably just a decent guy who wants to help, she told herself.

  But you never know. This is New York.

  ‘I’m Wayne, by the way.’ Cracking a smile, he added, ‘I’ll be your tour guide for this evening’s festivities.’

  They introduced themselves, and he nodded a pleasant greeting to each of them.

  ‘First on the agenda, let’s get you turned around so you’re heading out of harm’s way.’ They parted to let him through, then accompanied him back up Broome Street.

  Vivian and Cora walked at his sides, the others following close behind. His wet pony tail hung swaying at the nape of his neck. His jeans hugged his hips so low that the crevice of his buttocks showed and Abilene had doubts that he was wearing underpants.

  Finley’s kind of guy, she thought.

  ‘How’d you manage to end up on the Lower East Side?’ he asked, looking over his shoulder. Probably so everyone could hear, but his question seemed directed at Helen.

  ‘We thought we were in Greenwich Village,’ she answered.

  He smiled. ‘That might be where you started.’

  ‘Map-girl blew it,’ Finley told him.

  ‘I guess you’re tourists.’

  Cora laughed.

  ‘Obviously,’ Vivian said.

  ‘Where you from?’

  As they walked along, they told Wayne where they were currently living, how they’d gone to college together and come to New York City as an excuse for a get-together.

  ‘We’re planning to meet somewhere every year,’ Helen explained. ‘This year, it was Vivian’s turn to pick. She’s into acting, so obviously she chose New York. We’ve been to… what? Five shows? The others were, you know, downtown, but tonight we came out to the Village. It seems like all we’ve done is go to plays and walk.’

  Abilene grinned at her. She’d rarely found Helen so talkative with a stranger.

  ‘Next year, it’ll be Cora’s turn to pick.’

  ‘You won’t be seeing us back here,’ Cora said. ‘That’s a guarantee.’

  ‘You don’t like New York?’ Wayne asked her.

  ‘It’s an armpit.’

  ‘Come on,’ Vivian protested. ‘It’s great!’

  ‘Great if you like traffic and crowds and honking horns and jackhammers, weirdos and winos everywhere.’

  Mention of the wino made Abilene realize they’d already walked past the derelict who’d called out from the entry way their first time by. She hadn’t even noticed. It does help, she decided, having an escort. She found that she didn’t even mind the rain so much, now that Wayne was leading them back to civilization.

  ‘And have you ever tried to breathe the air in Grand Central Station? It smells like exhaust.’

  ‘At least,’ Finley added.

  ‘I think New York’s terrific,’ Helen said. ‘I’ve loved every minute.’

  That’s a hoot, Abilene thought.

  She must really like this guy.

  While they descended the stairway to the subway station, Wayne put on his shirt. At long last, Abilene thought. Though she had appreciated being escorted back to civilization, and Wayne seemed like a nice enough fellow, she’d found it odd that he had kept his shirt off while walking along with the five of them. Particularly because of the way his jeans hung so low. Was he deliberately showing off his body to them?

  As he slipped into his shirt, Finley leaned close to Abilene and whispered, ‘Aw, shucks.’

  Helen, two stairs below them, looked back and gave Finley a chiding glance.

  They gathered around Wayne at the bottom of the stairway. Vivian extended a hand to him and said, ‘Thanks so much. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.’

  Smiling, he squeezed her hand. ‘My pleasure. It’s not every night I get to help out damsels in distress. I think I’d better stick with you for a while, though. You get some pretty strange customers on the subway, especially at this hour.’

  ‘That’s very nice of you, but…’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ Cora interrupted. By the look in her eyes, Abilene could see that she was suspicious of the offer. ‘But thanks so much for getting us here.’

  ‘I’ll stay with you. At least till we get to your stop. Just in case. I really don’t mind.’

  ‘It’s not necessary,’ Cora said.

  ‘It sounds like a good idea to me,’ Helen said. She looked at the others for support. ‘You know? You hear about stuff happening on the subways, and it’s after midnight, and… if Wayne thinks he should stay with us for a while, I’m all for it.’

  ‘I’m only concerned about your safety, ladies.’

  ‘But you’ve already done so much,’ Vivian protested. ‘We can’t ask you to ride all the way back with us.’

  ‘I insist. Really.’

  ‘Besides,’ Finley said, ‘it’ll give him a break from the rain. I sure wouldn’t want to rush right back out there.’

  ‘Oh, I like the rain. But I don’t like the idea of you girls riding alone at this time of night.’

  ‘Let us at least buy your tokens,’ Vivian said.

  He laughed softly. ‘Fine. If you like.’

  Vivian, keeper of the tokens, searched her purse for those she’d bought for the return trip. She passed them around. As Wayne followed her to the glass-enclosed booth, Cora shook her head.

  ‘I know,’ Abilene said.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Helen asked. ‘He’s just being nice.’

  ‘Maybe too nice,’ Abilene said.

  ‘You worry too much, Hickok.’

  She frowned at Finley. ‘We don’t know anything about this guy-’

  ‘He’s got a nice bod on him.’

  ‘We’d be lost in the Bowery if it weren’t for him,’ Helen pointed out.

  ‘Right,’ Cora muttered.

  They followed Vivian and Wayne to the turnstiles, dropped their tokens into slots, and passed through.

  On the station platform, Abilene decided that having Wayne along might not be such a bad idea after all. A wino wrapped in a filthy coat was curled up on a bench, apparently asleep, a couple of over-stuffed bags at his feet. He wore mismatched tennis shoes and no socks. Near the far end of the platform three black teenagers were whispering and casting glances in their direction. She wondered if they had screwdrivers with sharpened points. She wondered if Wayne had any kind of weapon. She wondered if she would be worrying about such things if the three young men had been white.

  Soon, a train came roaring into the station. They boarded it. The wino stayed on his bench. The three black kids entered a different car.

  Except for an old man reading a newspaper, their car was deserted.

  Two stops later, the old man left. Nobody else entered. Finley, hanging onto an upright pole and smiling down at Wayne, said, ‘Sure are a lot
of strange customers in here.’

  ‘Guess it’s our lucky night,’ he said.

  Helen patted his thigh. ‘I’m glad you’re with us, anyway. I feel so much safer.’

  For the rest of the ride, nobody else entered their car.

  They stepped out at the Times Square station.

  ‘We know our way from here,’ Cora said as they gathered in the rain at the top of the stairs.

  ‘I’ve come this far,’ Wayne explained. ‘I might as well see you safely to the hotel.’

  ‘It’s only a few blocks. We’ll be fine.’

  ‘No, really. I don’t mind.’ He started off, Helen staying close to his side.

  Christ! Abilene thought. Why won’t someone tell him to go home?

  ‘What the hell’s he up to?’ Cora muttered.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Abilene said. ‘But I don’t like it.’

  ‘He’s just being helpful,’ Vivian said.

  ‘You always were too trusting,’ Cora told her.

  ‘It looks like the guy’s adopting us,’ Finley said.

  ‘How are we gonna get rid of him?’ Abilene asked.

  ‘I’ll take care of it,’ Cora said.

  ***

  Wayne opened the door for them, followed them into the lobby of the Hilton and walked with them to the elevator bank.

  Elevator doors were open, cars waiting.

  Nobody entered one.

  ‘Well,’ Vivian said, once again shaking Wayne’s hand. ‘Thanks so much.’

  ‘Glad to be of service.’

  ‘I don’t know what we would’ve done without you,’ Helen told him. She offered her hand. Wayne took it, squeezed it and let go.

  Cora opened her purse. She took out her billfold, saying, ‘We’d like to give you a little something for all your trouble.’ She plucked out a ten-dollar bill.

  Wayne held up both hands to ward it off. ‘No, please. I don’t want your money. Gosh. Put it away.’

  Cora blushed. ‘Please. Take it. If nothing else, use it for a taxi home.’

  ‘The subway’s fine. ’ He patted a pocket of his jeans. ‘Already got my token.’

  Cora put the money away. ‘Okay, if you’re sure. Anyway, thanks so much.’

  ‘Yeah, you were a lifesaver,’ Finley said.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ Abilene added, realizing she had misjudged him. ‘You really helped us out.’