Hell Harbor

by Len Levinson

  They clicked glasses and sipped champagne. He gazed at her over the top of his glass, admiring the gentle curve of her nose and her nice kissable lips. Her bosom swelled nicely and he’d caught a glimpse of her cute fanny while they were crossing the lobby. She’d told him she liked him, so there was the possibility that he could seduce her. It was a long shot but worth a try, because she probably was prettier than the sleazy whores he’d find at Countess Lulu’s, and he was crazy about her anyway. He looked at his watch and told himself that if he didn’t get into her pants by four o’clock in the morning, he’d leave her and hotfoot it over to Countess Lulu’s.

  “Late for an appointment?” she asked, noticing him looking at his watch.

  “No, just checking out the time.”

  “Countess Lulu’s is open all night, so you don’t have to worry about getting there before closing time.”

  He opened a package of cigarettes, took one out, and lit it up. “I’m not worried about going to Countess Lulu’s.”

  “You shouldn’t have ordered a full bottle of champagne. I told you I would be happy with a plain whisky and soda. I’d finish it in fifteen minutes and then you could put me in a cab. You’d be at Countess Lulu’s in under forty-five minutes.”

  “I’m not interested in being at Countess Lulu’s in forty-five minutes.” He stood and grabbed her hand. “Let’s dance.”

  “Hey!” she said, remaining glued to her chair.

  “Come on.”

  He pulled her to her feet and dragged her to the dance floor, noticing she wasn’t resisting that much. She liked him, there was no question about that. The big question was whether she’d let him into her pants.

  The dance floor was crowded and the band was playing “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree With Anybody Else But Me.” Mahoney took Shirley by the waist and hand and glided her through the other couples, but she kept her distance and their bodies weren’t touching.

  “I haven’t danced for so long,” she said nostalgically. “You dance very well for a man your size, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  The beat was fast and everybody was bouncing around. Other couples brushed up against them or bumped into them, and there was something frantic about it all, but Mahoney knew it was only the war, with everybody trying to squeeze each last drop of pleasure out of life, because life was so short, and anything could happen tomorrow.

  The music slowed to “Stardust,” and Shirley moved closer, the tips of her boobs touching his jacket when he executed certain sneaky moves. He wanted to crush her against him and fasten his mouth on hers, sucking out her beauty and sweetness, and then tear off her clothes and ravish her.

  “I feel so secure with you,” she said, moving closer.

  “I feel very nice with you, too, Shirley.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest. “The war has made such a mess out of so many lives.”

  “That’s the way it goes,” Mahoney said philosophically.

  “People do things that they otherwise would never do,” she continued. “For instance, if it weren’t for the war, I’d be married to Bob and would never be dancing with you like this, in this dark old place, with all these drunks around us.”

  “I guess the war has brought people closer in certain ways,” he said.

  “Yes, but it makes so many problems, because you know, Mahoney, I like you very much.”

  She brought her body to rest against his, and they danced across the Stardust. He was becoming dizzy with love and lust, for he hadn’t touched a woman for a while, and this Shirley was lovely and lithe, and there was a purity about her that he found enchanting.

  The band broke into a languid version of “Sunrise Serenade,” and Mahoney held her tightly, thinking of all the women he’d danced with in his life and all the crazy things he’d done with them afterwards, and wondered if he wasn’t in his hospital bed dreaming all this, because it was preposterous really, him in a captain’s uniform dancing with a lieutenant in a London hotel lounge.

  She cuddled closer to him, as they swayed and turned. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here with you,” she said.

  “I thought you just said you felt secure with me.”

  “I feel secure about you but I don’t feel secure about me.”

  He thought about that for a few moments, and it only could mean one thing. The time had come for strategic maneuvers. He kissed her ear, and she shivered.

  “Don’t do that,” she whispered.

  “I’m crazy about you, Shirley.”

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Only the ones I’m crazy about.”

  “You’re probably crazy about all of them.”

  “No, not all of them.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest. “Oh, Mahoney, this war is so crazy.”

  “It’s the craziest thing that ever happened.”

  “I should be married to Bob right now,” she said, “and be living in Lansing, Michigan. I’d be a nurse at a hospital and he’d probably be an executive at the Oldsmobile plant. Where would you be?”

  “Probably in some stockade someplace.”

  “You’ve been in the stockade before?”

  “Twice.”

  “What for?”

  “Insubordination the first time, and a fight in the mess hall the second time. Nothing too serious.”

  She looked up at him and said sadly, “Oh, Mahoney, what are we doing here together?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, kissing her cheek.

  She looked frightened and she turned her lips to him, and he kissed those red berries delicately, because he didn’t want to unravel his tongue down her throat and scare her away.

  She pulled away from him. “I think we’d better sit down.”

  “Let’s get a room someplace.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you crazy.”

  “I’m crazy about you.”

  “I’m engaged, Mahoney.”

  “There’s a war on, Shirley. We have to make the best of things.”

  “Oh, no we don’t.”

  They continued dancing, and she leaned her full weight against him, letting him move her around the floor. The band was playing “I’m In The Mood For Love.”

  “Why can’t we get a room together, Shirley?”

  “You know very well why.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Because I’m engaged, and because I don’t want to have a cheap squalid little one-night affair with somebody I don’t even know.”

  “Please,” he said, holding her tighter.

  “Don’t do this to me, Mahoney,” she pleaded. “I can’t stand it.”

  “Please,” he repeated.

  “No.”

  “Tomorrow morning you can go back to being engaged, and I’ll probably go back to the front, but at least tonight we can . . . you know.”

  “I don’t want to know.”

  “You know you like me, Shirley.”

  She nodded, her cheek against his chest. “I know.”

  “Then why shouldn’t we?”

  “Because I don’t want to be like all the others here, jumping into bed all the time with whoever happens to be convenient.”

  “Look at me, Shirley,” he said.

  “I don’t want to look at you.”

  “C’mon, look at me.”

  He put his finger under her chin and raised her face. Their eyes met as they danced among the crowd on the floor.

  “The whole world is turned upside down,” he said, “and a person’s life isn’t worth a dime. There’s no guarantee that our side will even win the war. So we might as well take whatever happiness we can find and be glad that we got it, because there’s so much misery and confusion around.”

  “I know you’re right,” she replied, “but I just can’t do it. I’m not that kind of a person.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not going to try and talk you into it. If you don’t want to, you don’t want to.”

/>   “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said, placing her cheek against his chest again. “It’s that I can’t . . . because of Bob. I’d never be able to look him in the eye again.”

  “How do you know what he’s doing right now?”

  “Don’t say that, Mahoney.”

  “His aircraft carrier might be in port right now, and he might be lonely. Would you get mad if he found a girl to keep him company for a few hours?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you think he’d feel any different if you did something like that?”

  She looked at him again. “Mahoney, I think it’s time you went to Countess Lulu’s.”

  “Is that what you really think?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Okay.”

  They separated and walked off the dance floor, returning to their table. Mahoney put his two packs of cigarettes into his jacket pocket and picked up his hat.

  “Aren’t you going to finish your champagne?” she asked.

  “To hell with the champagne. Let’s go.”

  They made their way through the sea of tables and revelers to the door of the lounge.

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “You sure?”

  “Completely sure.”

  “I don’t want you to be mad because you know that I really do like you.”

  “I know.”

  “If it weren’t for Bob and my moral upbringing, I’d probably do whatever you wanted me to do.”

  Mahoney nodded. They left the lounge and crossed the lobby of the hotel, passing through the open door and descending the steps in front to the sidewalk. It was still drizzling, and there were fewer people hanging around in front.

  “I’ll get you a cab,” Mahoney said, looking both ways into the street.

  “I’ll probably get home faster if I catch the bus. Why don’t you walk me to the bus stop—it’s on the way to Countess Lulu’s.”

  “Okay.”

  He lit a cigarette, the glow of the match illuminating his rugged features, and walked beside her toward the bus stop. A solitary occupied cab drove down the street, and a GI was passed out in the doorway of a tailor shop.

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

  “No, I’m not mad at you.”

  “I think you are.”

  “I’m really not.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly become cool.”

  He looked at her and puffed his cigarette. “Well, there’s no point in staying hot, is there?”

  “No.”

  “All right, then.”

  They continued down the street and turned left at the corner. He felt tired and a little disappointed, but he’d done his best and couldn’t reproach himself for anything. If she wanted to remain true to her boyfriend in the South Pacific who probably was screwing some Filipino broad right now, it was all right with him. He’d just go to Countess Lulu’s and get his rocks off that way. But he’d sure like to crawl into a bed someplace with Shirley.

  She took his arm. “Do you know when they’re going to discharge you from the hospital?”

  “In another day or two, I guess.”

  “What then?”

  “My outfit is fighting in France. I guess I’ll rejoin them.”

  “You must be a little afraid of all that.”

  “A little, but General Patton spoke to us once and he said the best way to deal with fear is to concentrate on following orders and trying to do your duty, and that’s the way I handle it, I guess. When they say charge I charge, and when they say dig in I dig in. If they tell me to take a particular objective I try to take it. That’s about it.”

  “I’ve noticed you limping a little. Is your leg all right?”

  “Just about. It wasn’t a bad wound. I got a bad one in Italy, though. A stomach wound. But they got all the shrapnel out and I didn’t lose too much of my guts.”

  “I hope you’ll be all right, Mahoney.”

  “It don’t matter to me either way,” he replied, puffing his cigarette. “If a bullet comes with your name on it, there’s nothing you can do except go down like a soldier.”

  She looked at him. “I’ll bet you’re a good soldier.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am a pretty good soldier. That’s because I really don’t give a shit, you know what I mean?”

  “Don’t you want to live? Don’t you like life?”

  “Yeah, I like life I guess. But I’m not crazy about it. I mean, what is it? A struggle to survive, that’s all. Whether you’re in the Army or back in New York, it’s just a struggle to survive.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve never seen life as a struggle like that.”

  “Maybe that’s because you never had to struggle very much.”

  “As a matter of fact I never have.”

  “Thank your lucky stars that you haven’t,” he said, “and pray that you never have to.”

  They approached the bus stop, and a few male and female officers were there. Mahoney looked at his watch; it was two-thirty in the morning. He’d have plenty of time for an orgy at Countess Lulu’s.

  “Well, here we are,” Shirley said.

  Mahoney nodded. “Yup.” He held out his hand. “Well, good night.”

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me good night?”

  “If you want me to.”

  She reached for him. “You know I want you to.”

  They were standing close to a red brick building, and he took her in his arms. Her face was upturned and her eyes a little frightened as he closed the distance and kissed her lips. They were soft and small, and she whimpered as she opened them to admit his hungry tongue. He lowered his hands to her fanny and pulled her tight against his erection; she didn’t try to get away from it. He felt her fingernails in his shoulders as her body strained against him. I think I’ve got her now, Mahoney’s reeling mind told him.

  She had been on her tiptoes, and now dropped down again, looking at his face. Her eyes were wide and wild.

  “What do I see in you?” she asked.

  “Let’s get a room someplace,” he replied.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know about anything anymore.”

  “Stop thinking, let me think for both of us,” he said. “Take my hand and let’s go.”

  He took her little hand in his and started walking. She walked beside him as though in a daze.

  “I think I’m losing my mind,” she said. “Where are we going?”

  “To the first decent hotel we can find.”

  “I know where there’s one.”

  “You mean the Albemarle?”

  “No, another one. It’s just a few blocks from here. I’ve been there before. Don’t ask me who I was there with, but I’ve been there before.”

  His head jerked in surprise. “You’ve been there before with someone else?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “But . . . what about Bob?”

  She stopped and looked up at him. She was so pretty and so utterly vulnerable that he wanted to pick her up and cuddle her like a baby.

  “I try to be a good person,” she said softly, “but I get lonely and crazy sometimes, and then I meet one of you big beautiful doomed bastards, and I just fall in love with you. Oh, I don’t know if it’s real love or not, or if it’s pity or just plain old lust, and I don’t want it to happen, but finally I give in. I’m weak I guess.”

  “Which way’s that hotel?” Mahoney asked.

  “Is that all you can say?”

  “I think its location has become sort of important.”

  “Kiss me first.”

  They hugged and kissed as the rain fell lightly upon them. Mahoney was delirious with joy and passion as he felt the ribs of her back, and tasted her sweet mouth. She nibbled his tongue and pressed her body against him, holding nothing back.

  She sighed and pressed her face against his chest. “When I saw you on the bus, I knew I was lo
st,” she said. “I’ve always been attracted to John Garfield types. So I sat down beside you like a little slut. You must have thought I was awful.”

  “I thought you were terrific, as a matter of fact.”

  “Did you think I’d be an easy lay?”

  “No, I thought you’d be impossible.”

  “Impossible?” She laughed sardonically. “No, I’m not impossible. I’m just another Army nurse who’s being unfaithful to her boyfriend.”

  He placed his forefinger on her nose. “Stop that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “It’s not the truth. The truth is that the war is driving everybody nuts. It’s even driving me nuts, and I was nuts long before I ever joined the Army.”

  “You’re not even an officer.”

  “I’m a master sergeant, and that’s better than an officer.”

  She laughed again, more happily this time. “I think you’re marvelous, Mahoney.”

  “Where’s that hotel?”

  She took his hand and they walked through the deserted rainy streets. Mahoney thought of how nice it would be if he could live with Shirley, and maybe be married to her. It would be wonderful to come home to someone like her every night, but instead they’d just have a few hours in a hotel room, and a week from now Germans would be shooting at him, and she might be heading for this hotel with another lonely GI.

  The hotel was on a side street and was called the Selridge. It looked genteel and illicit at the same time. They climbed the steps and entered the small lobby that had a worn carpet on the floor and worn old furniture positioned upon it. The lobby smelled like an attic that no one had cleaned for years.

  The clerk was an elderly man wearing pince-nez glasses, and he behaved in a friendly manner as he went through the formalities of the check-in. Mahoney thought the old guy might have been a soldier once himself, and signed a fictitious name on the register. He accepted the keys to the room and followed Shirley up the stairs, looking at her long, slim legs, wanting to stop and kiss them.

  The room was on the fourth floor, and he unlocked the door, walking toward the bed and turning on the lamp on the night table. The room was rundown, but warm and cozy. He returned to the door, closed and latched it.

  “Well, here we are,” he said dropping the keys onto a sagging dresser.

  She wrinkled her nose. “What a dump.”

  Mahoney was taking off his jacket. “It looks fine to me.”