Ham On Rye

by Charles Bukowski

  Miss Gredis' stockings were almost skin-colored. It was as if she were not wearing stockings at all, it was as if she were naked there in front of us, but since she wasn't and only appeared to be, that made it better than ever.

  "More and more we will discover our own truths and our own way of speaking, and this new voice will be uncluttered by old histories, old mores, old dead and useless dreams…"

  "Thump, thump, thump…"

  25

  Curly Wagner picked out Morris Moscowitz. It was after school and eight or ten of us guys had heard about it and we walked out behind the gym to watch. Wagner laid down the rules, "We fight until somebody hollers quit."

  "0. K. with me," said Morris. Morris was a tall thin guy, he was a little bit dumb and he never said much or bothered anybody.

  Wagner looked over at me. "And after I finish with this guy, I'm taking you on!"

  " Me, coach?"

  "Yeah, you, Chinaski."

  I sneered at him.

  "I'm going to get some god-damned respect from you guys if I have to whip all of you one by one!"

  Wagner was cocky. He was always working out on the parallel bars or tumbling on the mat or taking laps around the track. He swaggered when he walked but he still had his pot belly. He liked to stand and stare at a guy for a long time like he was shit. I didn't know what was bothering him. We worried him. I believe he thought we were fucking all the girls like crazy and he didn't like to think about that.

  They squared off. Wagner had some good moves. He bobbed, he weaved, he shuffled his feet, he moved in and out, and he made little hissing sounds. He was impressive. He caught Moscowitz with three straight left jabs. Moscowitz just stood there with his hands at his sides. He didn't know anything about boxing. Then Wagner cracked Moscowitz with a right to the jaw. "Shit!" said Morris and he threw a roundhouse right which Wagner ducked. Wagner countered with a right and left to Moscowitz' face. Morris had a bloody nose. "Shit!" he said and then he started swinging. And landing. You could hear the shots, they cracked against Wagner's head. Wagner tried to counter but his punches just didn't have the force and the fury of Moscowitz'.

  "Holy shit! Get him, Morrie!"

  Moscowitz was a puncher. He dug a left to that pot belly. Wagner gasped and dropped. He fell to both knees. His face was cut and bleeding. His chin was on his chest and he looked sick.

  "I quit," Wagner said.

  We left him there behind the building and we followed Morris Moscowitz out of there. He was our new hero.

  "Shit, Morrie, you ought to turn pro!"

  "Naw, I'm only thirteen years old."

  We walked over behind the machine shop and stood around the steps. Somebody lit up some cigarettes and we passed them around.

  "What has that man got against us?" asked Morrie.

  "Hell, Morrie, don't you know? He's jealous. He thinks we're fucking all the chicks!"

  "Why, I've never even kissed a girl."

  "No shit, Morrie?"

  "No shit."

  "You ought to try dry-fucking, Morrie, it's great!"

  Then we saw Wagner walking past. He was working on his face with his handkerchief.

  "Hey, coach," yelled one of the guys, "how about a rematch?"

  He stood and looked at us. "You boys put out those cigarettes!"

  "Ah, no, coach, we like to smoke!"

  "Come on over here, coach, and make us put out our cigarettes!"

  "Yeah, come on, coach!"

  Wagner stood looking at us. "I'm not done with you yet! I'll get every one of you, one way or the other!"

  "How ya gonna do that, coach? Your talents seem limited."

  "Yeah, coach, how ya gonna do it?"

  He walked off the field to his car. I felt a little sorry for him. When a guy was that nasty he should be able to back it up.

  "I guess he doesn't think there'll be a virgin on the grounds by the time we graduate," said one of the guys.

  "I think," said another guy, "that somebody jacked-off into his ear and he has come for brains."

  We left after that. It had been a fairly good day.

  26

  My mother went to her low-paying job each morning and my father, who didn't have a job, left each morning too. Although most of the neighbors were unemployed he didn't want them to think he was jobless. So he got into his car each morning at the same time and drove off as if he were going to work. Then in the evening he would return at exactly the same time. It was good for me because I had the place to myself. They locked the house but I knew how to get in. I would unhook the screen door with a piece of cardboard. They locked the porch door with a key from the inside. I slid a newspaper under the door and poked the key out. Then I pulled the newspaper from under the door and the key came with it. I would unlock the door and go in. When I left I would hook the screen door, lock the back porch door from the inside, leaving the key in. Then I would leave through the front door, putting the latch on lock.

  I liked being alone. One day I was playing one of my games. There was a clock on the mantle with a second hand and I held contests to see how long I could hold my breath. Each time I did it I exceeded my own record. I went through much agony but I was proud each time I added some seconds to my record. This day I added a full five seconds and I was standing getting my breath back when I walked to the front window. It was a large window covered by red drapes. There was a crack between the drapes and I looked out. Jesus Christ! Our window was directly across from the front porch of the Andersons' house. Mrs. Anderson was sitting on the steps, and I could look right up her dress. She was about 23 and had marvelously shaped legs. I could see almost all the way up her dress. Then I remember my father's army binoculars. They were on the top shelf of his closet. I ran and got them, ran back, crouched down and adjusted them to Mrs. Anderson's legs. It took me right up there! And it was different from looking at Miss Gredis' legs: you didn't have to pretend you weren't looking. You could concentrate. And I did. I was right there. I was red hot. Jesus Christ, what legs, what flanks! And each time she moved, it was unbearable and unbelievable.

  I got down on my knees and I held the binoculars with one hand and pulled my cock out with the other. I spit in my palm and began. For a moment I thought I saw a flash of panties. I was about to come. I stopped. I kept looking with the binocs and then I started rubbing again. When I was about to come I stopped again. Then I waited and began rubbing again. This time I knew I wouldn't be able to stop. She was right there. I was looking right up her! It was like fucking. I came. I spurted all over the hardwood floor in front of the window. It was white and thick. I got up and went to the bathroom and got some toilet paper, came back and wiped it up. I took it back to the toilet and flushed it away.

  Mrs. Anderson came and sat on those steps almost every day and each time she did I got the binocs and whacked-off.

  If Mr. Anderson ever finds out about this, I thought, he'll kill me.. .

  My parents went to the movies every Wednesday night. The theatre had drawings for money and they wanted to win some money. It was on a Wednesday night that I discovered something. The Pirozzis lived in the house south of ours. Our driveway ran along the north side of their house and there was a window which looked into their front room. The window was veiled by a thin curtain. There was a wall which became an arch over the front of our driveway and there were bushes all about. When I got between that wall and the window, in among all those bushes, nobody could see me from the street, especially at night.

  I crawled in there. It was great, better than I expected. Mrs. Pirozzi was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper. Her legs were crossed, and in an easy chair across the room, Mr. Pirozzi was reading a newspaper. Mrs. Pirozzi was not as young as Miss Gredis or Mrs. Anderson, but she had good legs and she had on high heels and almost every time she turned a page of her newspaper, she'd cross her legs and her skirt would climb higher and I would see more.

  If my parents come home from the movie and catch me here, I thought, then my
life is over. But it's worth it. It's worth the risk.

  I stayed very quiet behind the window and stared at Mrs. Pirozzi's legs. They had a large collie, Jeff, who was asleep in front of the door. I had looked at Miss Gredis' legs that day in English class, then I had whacked-off to Mrs. Anderson's legs, and now - there was more. Why didn't Mr. Pirozzi look at Mrs. Pirozzi's legs? He just kept reading his newspaper. It was obvious that Mrs. Pirozzi was trying to tease him because her skirt kept climbing higher and higher. Then she turned a page and crossed her legs very fast and her skirt flipped back exposing her pure white thighs. She was just like buttermilk! Unbelievable! She was best of all!

  Then from the corner of my eye I saw Mr. Pirozzi's legs move. He stood up very quickly and moved toward the front door. I started running, crashing through the bushes. I heard him open his front door. I was down the driveway and into our backyard and behind the garage. I stood a moment, listening. Then I climbed the back fence, over the vines and on over into the next backyard. I ran through that yard and up the driveway and I began dog-trotting south down the street like a guy practicing for track. There was nobody behind me but I kept trotting. If he knows it was me, if he tells my father, I'm dead. But maybe he just let the dog out to take a shit? I trotted down to West Adams Boulevard and sat on a streetcar bench. I sat there five minutes or so, then I walked back home. When I got there, my parents weren't back yet. I went inside, undressed, turned out the lights and waited for morning…

  Another Wednesday night Baldy and I were taking our usual short cut between two apartment houses. We were on our way to his father's wine cellar when Baldy stopped at a window. The shade was almost down but not quite. Baldy stopped, bent, and peeked inside. He waved me over.

  "What is it?" I whispered.

  "Look!"

  There was a man and a woman in bed, naked. There was just a bedsheet partly over them. The man was trying to kiss the woman and she was pushing him away.

  "God damn it, let me have it, Marie!"

  "No!"

  "But I'm hot, please."

  "Take your god-damned hands off me!"

  "But, Marie, I love you!"

  "You and your fucking love…"

  "Marie, please. "

  "Will you shut up?"

  The man turned toward the wall. The woman picked up a magazine, bunched a pillow behind her head, and began reading it.

  Baldy and I walked away from the window,

  "Jesus," said Baldy, "that made me sick!"

  "I thought we were going to see something," I said. When we got to the wine cellar Baldy's old man had put a big padlock on the cellar door.

  We tried that window again and again but we never actually saw anything happen. It was always the same.

  "Marie, it's been a long time. We're living together, you know.

  We're married!"

  "Big fucking deal!"

  "Just this once, Marie, and I won't bother you again, I won't bother you for a long time, I promise!"

  "Shut up! You make me sick!"

  Baldy and I walked away.

  "Shit," I said.

  "Shit," he said.

  "I don't think he's got a cock," I said.

  "He might as well not have," said Baldy. We stopped going back there.

  27

  Wagner wasn't done with us. I was standing in the yard during gym class when he walked up to me.

  "What are you doing, Chinaski?"

  "Nothing."

  "Nothing?"

  I didn't answer.

  "How come you're not in any of the games?"

  "Shit. That's kid stuff."

  "I'm putting you on garbage detail until further notice."

  "What for? What's the charge?"

  "Loitering. 50 demerits."

  The kids had to work off their demerits on garbage detail. If you had more than ten demerits and didn't work them off, you couldn't graduate. I didn't care whether I graduated or not. That was their problem. I could just stay around getting older and older and bigger and bigger. I'd get all the girls.

  "50 demerits?" I asked. "Is that all you're going to give me? How about a hundred?"

  "O.K., one hundred. You got 'em."

  Wagner swaggered off. Peter Mangalore had 500 demerits. Now I was in second place, and gaining…

  The first garbage detail was during the last thirty minutes of lunch. The next day I was carrying a garbage can with Peter Mangalore. It was simple. We each had a stick with a sharp nail on the end of it. We picked up papers with the stick and stuck them into the can. The girls watched us as we walked by. They knew we were bad. Peter looked bored and I looked like I didn't give a damn. The girls knew we were bad.

  "You know Lilly Fischman?" Pete asked as we walked along.

  "Oh, yes, yes."

  "Well, she's not a virgin."

  "How do you know?"

  "She told me."

  "Who got her?"

  "Her father."

  "Hmmm… Well you can't blame him."

  "Lilly's heard I've got a big cock."

  "Yeah, it's all over school."

  "Well, Lilly wants it. She claims she can handle it."

  "You'll rip her to pieces."

  "Yeah, I will. Anyhow, she wants it."

  We put the garbage can down and stared at some girls who were sitting on a bench. Pete walked toward the bench. I stood there. He walked up to one of the girls and whispered something in her ear. She started giggling. Pete walked back to the garbage can. We picked it up and walked away.

  "So," said Pete, "this afternoon at 4 p.m. I'm going to rip Lilly to pieces."

  "Yeah?"

  "You know that broken-down car at the back of the school that Pop Farnsworth took the engine out of?"

  "Yeah."

  "Well, before they haul that son-of-a-bitch away, that's going to be my bedroom. I'm going to take her in the back seat."

  "Some guys really live."

  "I'm getting a hard just thinking about it," said Pete.

  "I am too and I'm not even the guy who's going to do it."

  "There's one problem though," said Pete.

  "You can't come?"

  "No, it's not that. I need a look-out. I need somebody to tell me the coast is clear."

  "Yeah? Well, look, I can do that."

  "Would you?" asked Pete.

  "Sure. But we should have one more guy so we can watch in both directions."

  "All right. Who you got in mind?"

  "Baldy."

  "Baldy? Shit, he's not much."

  "No, but he's trustworthy."

  "All right. So I'll see you guys at four."

  "We'll be there."

  At four p.m. we met Pete and Lilly at the car.

  "Hi!" said Lilly. She looked hot. Pete was smoking a cigarette. He looked bored.

  "Hello, Lilly," I said.

  "Hi, Lilly baby," said Baldy.

  There were some guys playing a game of touch football in the other field but that only made it better, a kind of camouflage. Lilly was wiggling around, breathing heavily, her breasts were moving up and down.

  "Well," said Pete, throwing his cigarette away, "let's make friends, Lilly."

  He opened the back door, bowed, and Lilly climbed in. Pete got in after her and took his shoes off, then his pants and his shorts. Lilly looked down and saw Pete's meat hanging.

  "Oh my," she said, "I don't know…"

  "Come on, baby," said Pete, "nobody lives forever."

  "Well, all right, I guess…"

  Pete looked out the window. "Hey, are you guys watching to see if the coast is clear?"

  "Yeah, Pete," I said, "we're watching."

  "We're looking," said Baldy.

  Pete pulled Lilly's skirt all the way up. There was white flesh above her knee socks and you could see her panties. Glorious. Pete grabbed Lilly and kissed her. Then he pulled away.

  "You whore!" he said.

  "Talk to me nice, Pete!"

  "You bitch-whore!" he said and slappe
d her across the face, hard. She began sobbing. "Don't, Pete, don't…"

  "Shut up, cunt!"

  Pete began pulling at Lilly's panties. He was having a terrible time. Her panties were tight around her big ass. Pete gave a violent tug, they ripped and he pulled the panties down around her legs and off over her shoes. He threw them on the floorboard. Then he began playing with her cunt. He played with her cunt and played with her cunt and kissed her again and again. Then he leaned back against the car seat. He only had half a hard. Lilly looked down at him.

  "What are you, a queer?"

  "No, it's not that, Lilly. It's just that I don't think these guys are watching to see if the coast is clear. They're watching us. I don't want to get caught in here."

  "The coast is clear, Pete," I said. "We're watching!"

  "We're watching!" said Baldy.

  "I don't believe them," said Pete. "All they're watching is your cunt, Lilly."

  "You're chicken! All that meat and it's only at half-mast!"

  "I'm scared of getting caught, Lilly."

  "I know what to do," she said.

  Lilly bent over and ran her tongue along Pete's cock. She lapped her tongue around the monstrous head. Then she had it in her mouth.

  "Lilly… Christ," said Pete, "I love you…"

  "Lilly, Lilly, Lilly… oh, oh, oooh ooooh…"

  " Henry!" Baldy screamed. "LOOK!"

  I looked. It was Wagner running toward us from across the field and also coming behind him were the guys who had been playing touch football, plus some of the people who had been watching the football game, boys and girls both.

  " Pete!" I yelled, "It's Wagner coming with 50 people!"

  " Shit!" moaned Pete.

  "Oh, shit," said Lilly.

  Baldy and I took off. We ran out the gate and halfway up the block. We looked back through the fence. Pete and Lilly never had a chance. Wagner ran up and ripped open the car door hoping for a good look. Then the car was surrounded and we couldn't see any more…