Golden Throat

by James P. Alsphert

  “—I could not spend any more days away from you, querido! It is now or never, Cable. I bought the sleep-car ticket —and mi madre and mi hermana will see to the agency while we are gone.” She checked out my eyes. “You are not angry with me, no?”

  “No, beautiful lady, no. I—I, uh, just didn’t expect it, that’s all. And you may be putting yourself in harm’s way. This is not a pleasure trip—or at least it wasn’t until you showed up—nor is it about police business.”

  “Yo Sé. It is about Damianos’ secreto, huh? How you say, danger excites this señorita.”

  “You, too, eh? I thought I was the only one with that disease.”

  “So you think Damianos cause trouble? Un hombre misterioso.”

  “I can’t say yet. I don’t think Damianos wants to stop me—just yet. I have a feeling there are some other tough hombres plying their trades aboard this train, though.”

  “I come to help you stay seguro—safe.” She melted into my arms and turned her head up to kiss me. I couldn’t resist the dame. There was some other force at work here, something that drew me to her like the sea to the shore.

  “So now it’s truth time, Adora. You know about Honey. You know I want you like a bull in heat. I don’t know how long any of it will last.”

  “Ahora…now…is all we have en toda la vida. I cannot see beyond este momento. All I know is I desire you so much I cannot contain it, Cable. I mean to hurt nobody, even your nice chica romántica.”

  “Then it’s settled. I won’t tell that part of myself that’s got the moral conscience—that way, you get a brand new guy without guilt.”

  She laughed and touched my leg with her warm, open hand. I don’t know what it was about the doll, but I got chills when she touched me. I led her over to the bunks as the train began to pull out. I could hear that wonderful, familiar and lonely whistle. It was like that melancholy sax that keeps playing in my head. It pulled me somewhere, but I didn’t know whether it was past or future. Just a place where longing sits in your stomach but you can’t figure out what it is and why it’s there. But it’s always there.

  “These bunk beds will never do,” I said, taking my shoes off. I was thinking of Honey. What was I doing? I hadn’t been with another woman since we began seeing each other. Yet it was like a hand on my back, pushing me toward this beautiful creature whose smile and laughter and sincerity drew me in like a magnet to hot metal.

  “Double-deck—you on top, me on bottom—okay,” she laughed. Then she began to unbutton her blouse. “I am temeroso—afraid—a bit…will you help me? I like you to be the man…and I will be the woman who entrega, surrenders to her hombre, okay?”

  I said nothing but continued where she left off and slowly undid the buttons on her blouse. Her chest was heaving and those wonderful and full breasts of hers stood firm as I touched them through her bra. Shivers went through her and she sighed. Next I began to unbutton the four large buttons on her skirt. When it fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, I could understand why men go insane over a woman’s body. Adora Moreno’s body was perfect. She got the idea and began undressing me. By the time we were standing in the sleeping car totally nude, we knew nothing would stop us from making love. Hastily we grabbed all the blankets, cushions and pillows we could and put them on the floor. She pulled me down onto her. “Oh! Rock-a-bye, baby!” she said, realizing how swaying and bumpy the train ride was.

  “Talking of which, can you have babies? I mean, I don’t have any—any, uh, protection to prevent—”

  “—sí, I can have babies.” She brought her lips to where they barely brushed my own. “I want ten of your babies, Cable.”

  “Oh, God, Adora…I think there’s a stop in Fresno. I can buy some—”

  “—no! Señor Denning,” she whispered. “I want nothing between us except amor, mi amor.”

  “Adora…do you realize what you’re saying? I mean, a baby could change our whole lives—we’re coming into the middle of a Rudolph Valentino movie here—you know, the Sheik and all?”

  “He never use anything.”

  “It’s a movie, babe, not real life. I don’t think you know what you’re saying here. I mean, look, kid, I don’t want to use anything either…”

  She looked at me with those melting brown eyes of hers. “…do you trust me, mi amor? Do you feel how—how heavy is my breath? Can you know how I ache for you since first I see you? Por favor, Cable…”

  Her breathing was labored and her gorgeous breasts were prickling with goose bumps as her nipples became rigid. She pulled my mouth onto hers and we started climbing to the moon with fireworks going off on all sides. As I entered her there came such a joyful release of pleasure that I probably will never forget it. She was the perfect everything for me. Our parts all fit together the right way in the right places. There on the floor of a speeding train, clicking and clacking and rolling, two people found each other and neither would ever be the same again.

  We may not have broken any sex-marathon records, but we managed to make love a good three or four hours. Finally I sat up and leaned against the bunks. I reached into my pants pocket and got out a pack of Lucky Strikes. I lit up and offered Adora one. “Smoke?”

  She was beaming and contented. “No fumo, gracias.” Then she felt herself between her legs. “Ay, you make me sore, big man. But I love it.”

  I chuckled. “Well, you can never say you didn’t want it, young woman. I think that’s part of being re-initiated into love making after so long a time. We don’t have to do it anymore, you know.”

  She scooted over to me and kissed my private parts all over. “Hombre malo…you better not leave me alone. I want you until I cannot walk anymore, mi muchacho bonito.”

  “That’s fine with me, babe, but I’m more expensive as the day wears on, you know. So…you might pace yourself a bit.”

  She hit me lightly on the shoulder and laughed. “Nunca! Nunca! Nunca! Never will I keep myself from wanting you…and having you…”

  We were about four hours south of San Francisco when we made our way to the dining car. Being an overnight train, it was open all night and we sat down to an immaculate white tablecloth with cloth napkins and real silverware. We were hungry and ate heartily. “All that—uh, exercise, makes me hungry—what’s your excuse?”

  “Some hungry man already ate me—so now yo tengo hambre, toro.” She smiled at me and lit me up with those warm brown eyes. “And you were el toro pasion, Señor Denning. And you left your smell on me. I am now smelling like your—your producción total.”

  I looked across the small table at her. “Well, how else does a bull mark his territory?” I said, winking at her. She giggled out loud. How did I get so lucky in this life? I guess I could’ve asked that same question about Honey—and did, if I recall. To have that specialness just once in your life was rare, so twice was more than any man could expect. Yet here I was, looking into the beautiful face of a woman I’d met only days before who desired me with a consuming passion and ardent love few are equipped to deal with. I hoped I would be for Adora. She deserved good in her life.

  During our meal I noticed a couple of men sitting at different tables who had been glancing at me from time to time. One of them looked like a gangster that worked for Frank Laggore through Dragna. They called him Crank Sotto, because when he was young he broke his arm twice while crank-starting his car, so I’d heard. I knew about him because he had a police record two miles long and was probably a hit man for Dragna and his newly organized crime syndicate. Him I’d have to keep my eye on.

  The other fellow appeared to be quite elderly, a stern but kindly look sat in the middle of a nice face that sported a silver-white beard and moustache. He could not have been more than five-five and possessed a piercing twinkle in his eye. I noticed a cane leaning up against the wall near to his seat. Across from him sat a much younger woman. My observation told me it was not his daughter, but perhaps a wife or care-giver. Soon the young wo
man got up and helped the old man on his feet, handing him his cane. They made their way unsteadily toward us on their way out of the dining car. He glanced at me curiously and nodded his head in a greeting as they exited.

  This intuition of mine was working overtime. Crank Sotto was still watching me and I had the feeling something was gonna happen any minute. We finished our food and I escorted Adora back to our sleeper. I told her to lock the door and let no one in unless she knew it was my voice at the other side of the door. She cautioned me to be careful. I kissed her and left. I knew I had to draw the lizards out of their cages, so I found a remote place between two cars, at the coupling transom. There I lit up a cigarette, opened and secured the half-window and leaned on the door watching the dawn come up. A porter came by and said passengers weren’t supposed to open that door and lean out. It was dangerous, especially if another train was coming on the track next to you. I told him I couldn’t stand my own cigarette smoke and I needed the fresh air. He mumbled something and went on his way.

  The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle as I waited for what I knew would be the inevitable confrontation with whoever it was who set me up for a patsy. I was thinking about the reality of getting back to L.A. and how I’d face Honey as if nothing ever happened between Adora Moreno and me. But I had lived long enough to know that energy shifts in people when the dynamics change and we are creatures far more tuned to each other than most people acknowledge. It was like waiting here for the next ‘thing’ to happen. Somehow I was tuned to it and my body was preparing minute by minute.

  But I didn’t have to wait too long. Crank Sotto came through the sliding door followed by none other than Frank Laggore! “Officer Denning—or should I say the mysterious Mr. Denning?” Laggore said, his snake-like stare checking me out.

  “I didn’t know you were a train fan, Laggore,” I said, spewing out a little venom of my own. “Crank and Frank on a field trip, huh? Charming…”

  “Mr. Dragna wanted to know if you knew where a certain missing item is—and you certainly are elusive—and keep unexpected company. You know what I’m talking about, I presume?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know where the missing item is. It’s either one nut case or another that’s following me. Get lost, Laggore, I never liked you before and I don’t like you now…or your goon.”

  “Mr. Sotto, did you hear that?” Laggore drew a gun. Crank Sotto did the same. “Since the mysterious Mr. Denning doesn’t know where the object in question might be, he also may not know that he’s going to have an accident very soon. He’s going to fall off a moving train while smoking. Bad habit. Never picked it up myself.”

  “Well, then, shoot and get it over with. I’m bored with you guys and I’m about finished with my cigarette. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back—”

  “—to your little Latin lover? Whatever would the charming Miss Combes say back home, I wonder? I think she thinks you’re a true-blue Johnny boy, now, doesn’t she? Well, imagine she won’t have to worry about that anymore at all now, will she?” He laughed a sick laugh. “You’ll be one of those uncounted missing persons.”

  “Yeah, maybe so, Laggore, but I know you’ve lusted for her so long your dick hangs out when you’re around her—and that ain’t pretty, you lousy punk. Bumping me off is one way to clear your way to her—so why don’t you shoot—I’m—I’m kinda tired of waiting around for you spineless pieces of shit.”

  Laggore bristled. “Not nice, mister, I think I need to wash your mouth out with Life Boy soap—you’re gonna need an extra life. But…we’re not going to shoot you, Denning. Then it wouldn’t look like an accident. No, Crank is going to come over and confiscate your firearm before we push you from the train traveling now at about sixty miles an hour, I estimate. What do you think?”

  “I think it’ll take both of you to take my gun away. Hoodlums like you two never change—you live in fear and act in anger—because you’re really yellow inside just like the color of that stripe down your back,” I said, gritting my teeth. “So come and get it!”

  Sotto started toward me, but he was slow and I kicked him in the gut and he dropped his gun to the floor. Before he could recoil, I grabbed him by the hair, slammed his head against the stainless steel bottom half of the door and tossed him out the top half. There was a scream and a terrible thud as I realized I had thrown the man right into the path of an oncoming freight train. Laggore went white and began to tremble. I knew he wasn’t the tough guy he pretended to be. He was one of those cheap gangsters who rode on other people’s shirttails and played yes-man to the mob.

  “Now—now I’m going to have to shoot you, Denning!” I ducked as he fired, but he grazed my shoulder and I felt the pain of the bullet carve up some flesh through my clothes. Before he could fire again, I lunged at Laggore and grabbed his gun hand and smashed it against the side of the transom. He yelled in pain as I brought him to the floor and stomped on his hand until I could feel the bones break in his fingers. I took his gun and threw it out the window. I could feel the train was slowing as I dragged Laggore to the open half-window I had tossed his accomplice out of.

  “The trouble with you guys, Laggore, is that you’re pampered and you’re not tough enough. I was raised in the land of kill or be killed, buddy. So guess what, you’re taking a ride on your own railroad!” I stuffed him through the window and tossed him out onto the tracks below. Unless he hit his head or something or suffered the same fate as Crank Sotto, I didn’t think the fall would kill him, as by now the train had slowed to less than maybe forty miles-an-hour. I hoped that was the last of Frank Laggore—for my own sake as well as Honey’s.

  I made my way back to Adora’s compartment just as the train came to a stop. I knocked. “Who is?” she inquired as I had instructed her. She was a good girl.

  “It’s me, babe, open up…”

  “How do I know? You could be pretend hombre, eh? Give me what police call—uh, ‘living proof.’ I must know that first.”

  “You’re gonna know a knuckle sandwich first if you don’t open up—now!”

  She opened the door and saw my bloody left shoulder immediately. “Ay, mi amor! Qué pasó?! I get train doctor.”

  “No, Adora. I’ve got to keep this quiet. There may be another group on the train—other than Dragna’s goons.”

  “Dragna? Who is Dragna?”

  “Never mind. Too much to explain now. It’s just a surface wound and maybe you can wash it for me before my shoulder stiffens up or it infects.”

  Adora was fast. She said no more and went into the bathroom, prepared some cloths and warm water. She had me strip to my waist and sit on the toilet. She carefully washed my wound and dressed it as best she could. Trouble was I had brought only one coat that now had a bullet rip on its top and was stained with blood. “I bring your suit top to train valet—or what you call pott—port—”

  “—porter. You stay here and lock the door, I’ll go.”

  “But you are weak, and shot, querido.”

  “Listen to me, Adora. This isn’t the time to argue and I told you I didn’t want to get you involved in this thing in the first place, okay? So, please, if you don’t mind, stay here until I get back.”

  “I will always mind not being close to you, mi amor. Pero, yo comprendo.” She hugged me desperately around the waist and kissed me as I departed. I was wishing I had a drink when I remembered my little flask of gin in my left coat pocket. It was there and uninjured. I got to the dining car and made my way toward the kitchen. The breakfast coach was starting to fill up with people and I got some curious looks from folks who saw the bloody shoulder and the slightly disheveled coat. I asked for the head chef. He was a jaunty looking black man. “Yes sir! Yes sir!” He saw my shoulder. “Me oh my, mister. You okay? What can I do to help?”

  “I need something to sterilize a superficial wound. Do you—uh, cook with alcohol or the like?”

  “No, siree, it’s Prohibition—and we�
��s not allowed to do some such things. But I think Alexander’s got just what the doc ordered. Can you wait here, mister?”

  I sat at the last table in the dining car, just at the entrance to the kitchen. Just then I noticed the old man and his caretaker enter and mine was the only table available. I started to get up and give it to them.

  “Oh, no, sir, please don’t move.” He studied me and sized up the situation immediately. “They say a couple of people left the train in a hurry back a ways. And I can see you’re—you’re wounded, son.”

  “Uh….yeah, word travels fast now, doesn’t it? I suppose that’s why the train’s stopped?”

  “By the way, I’m Dr. Jedediah Penn. I think you had better come to my compartment and let me take a look at that. It looks like a bullet tear—and lead has a way of poisoning the body, you know.”

  I extended my hand across the table. “Denning—Cable Denning, Dr. Penn. Yeah, that’d be swell if you could see to this. Thanks.”

  I told the cook I was in good hands and we left. “By the way, this is my lady-in-waiting and my day-and-night nurse, Polly Parker.”

  “How do you do, Miss Parker,” I said, looking over the medium-sized young woman of about thirty. “What, may I ask, does a lady-in-waiting do these days?”

  She seemed embarrassed. She spoke with a German accent. “Vell, I suppose she vaits. Perhaps for da right man to come.” Then she hooked onto Dr. Penn’s arm tightly. “But my doctor is my man today, Mr. Denning.”

  “Pshaw! Never heard such nonsense! She’s building her hope chest along with her chest just the same as any other red-blooded healthy female her age. But, she’s modest…you know how that goes…”

  “Yeah,” I said as we arrived at Dr. Penn’s compartment. Polly Parker led me in after she was sure the doctor was comfortable and seated where he could examine me.

  “Please to take your shirt off, Mr. Denning,” Miss Parker said.

  As I sat down, the old man with the penetrating blue eyes and silver hair, beard and moustache looked me over. “I’d say, Mr. Denning, you live dangerously and wager a guess you might not live long enough for this here wound to completely heal. Lord knows, what possesses men to commit violence upon one another.”