69 Barrow Street

by Lawrence Block

  They had been living together for several months on their unemployment checks.

  Roger Brann was 22 years old.

  Sally was almost 16.

  Ralph sat alone by himself, avoiding the others. In the background weird modern jazz played on Stella’s hi-fi, filling the room with strangely erotic rhythms and harmonies.

  Stella was talking earnestly with two other couples—David and Elaine Jordan and Luke and Betty Swinnerton. The Jordans started out as just an ordinary married couple, until they both decided that there was something lacking in ordinary married life. They got involved in a few minor wife-swapping deals with men who worked in the same advertising agency as David. Then they discovered the Village and Stella’s crowd and their problems were solved. They were still very happily married, very much in love with each other. They looked upon the sexual experimentation of the Village as a release, a way to let off steam and to keep their own marriage fresh and exciting.

  The Swinnertons, although both under thirty, had always seemed a little older than the other people in the room. It was hard for Ralph to determine just why this was true. He decided that it was in the way they pursued their “kicks.” The others in the room approached depravity and dissipation in a madcap search for pleasure, hungrily chasing down every possible escape they could find. Luke and Betty were different. Like the Hendersons, they had married when Betty thought she was pregnant. In their case it turned out to be a fake pregnancy but they remained married when they found out it was more or less the same as living together. And when Luke and Betty looked for kicks they did it in a totally dispassionate way, as though they had already given up all hope of achieving any genuine happiness. They continued to dissipate because it was their life, the only life they had known for years. But nothing touched them and nothing moved them.

  They stood talking to Stella and the Jordans, but they seemed a million miles removed from the conversation. There was a hollow stare in Luke’s eyes. Betty kept her eyes closed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, snapping her fingers absently in time to the music, humming softly to herself.

  One other couple remained—Larry Colestock and Maria Raines. The two of them shared a cold-water flat on the East Side off Third Avenue. Ralph didn’t know Larry well at all, but he would never forget Maria, with her large, brown eyes and jet-black, shoulder length hair.

  He had met her at another party of Stella’s, two or three months ago. Stella had met her and invited her to the party, and when she came Stella slipped a powder into the girl’s drink.

  The powder was called Spanish Fly.

  Maria had been a virgin. That night Stella led the little girl to the bedroom in back and ten men, one after the other, put an end to Maria’s virginity and ripped away her self-respect as they tore her inside. Then, when the men had finished with the girl, Stella took her in her strong arms and held her close for the remainder of the night.

  That had been either the beginning or the end of Maria, depending on how you looked at it. She left her family and moved permanently to the Village. Looking vaguely for love, she took whatever happened to come her way. Nothing mattered to her any more.

  A wave of shame washed over Ralph.

  He had been one of the ten men that night.

  Stella walked to the window and pulled the shade all the way down. While she didn’t mind at all if passers-by watched Ralph make love to her, there were certain things that she didn’t want anybody to see. Then she walked to the middle of the room and held up a hand for silence.

  “All right,” she said. “Okay, everybody. It’s time for us to get started. You got everything, Jimmy?”

  Henderson nodded. He took a small, bulging envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. Stella ripped open the envelope and dumped the contents into the palm of her right hand.

  The joints were about one-third the thickness of a regular cigarette. The ends were twisted to keep the weed from spilling out. Stella counted the joints, unable to keep the anticipation from showing on her face as she did so. Then she picked one up between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand and examined it carefully.

  “Twelve of them,” she announced. “Twelve bombers. Enough to knock us out of our heads.”

  There was a low murmur of approval from the others.

  “C’mon,” she said. “Everybody get seated in a circle on the floor and we’ll get the ball rolling.”

  The group formed a circle on the large oriental rug. Ralph found himself seated between Maria Raines and Elaine Jordan. He wished fleetingly that he was somewhere else, anywhere but here. He liked marijuana, enjoyed the effect it had on him, but he knew what it would do to the party.

  Stella put the first of the cigarettes between her lips and accepted a light from Henderson. She dragged deeply on the joint with her lips slightly parted so that she would smoke it properly, taking in a mixture of air and smoke. She drew the mixture directly into her lungs in order to get the maximum effect, rather than puffing on it and then inhaling as with a regular cigarette. In this way the maximum amount of smoke was absorbed into the bloodstream and the greatest possible effect achieved.

  As soon as she had finished dragging on the joint she passed it to Henderson. By keeping the cigarette moving around the circle less of the smoke was lost than if each person smoked a joint by himself. She held the smoke in her lungs as long as possible.

  When she let out her breath she was smiling.

  “Cool,” she murmured. “Deep.”

  Stella was getting the second joint going by the time the first one reached Ralph. He took it between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and brought it to his lips. Despite his misgivings, the sharp odor of marijuana present in the room had made him anxious to turn on, to smoke some of the pot and get high.

  He sucked greedily on the joint and tasted the familiar taste of the marijuana, felt the familiar sting as the hot smoke scorched his throat and lungs. He took in as much smoke as he could hold and passed the joint to Elaine. Then he let his eyelids drop shut as he felt the marijuana hit home.

  By the time he breathed out Maria was handing him the second joint. He repeated the process. This time the smoke caused less pain to his throat and lungs and he could feel the drug beginning to work, loosening him up and increasing his sensory perceptions. His mind felt much clearer and he could close his eyes and become very conscious of all the organs in his body. He heard his heart pounding out a firm, steady rhythm, felt the blood coursing through veins and arteries, listened to the contraction and relaxation of muscles when he moved his fingers.

  One by one they smoked the twelve joints. When the cigarettes had burned down so far that they couldn’t be smoked any longer they were extinguished, and what remained was known as the roach. Henderson walked around the circle, his beady eyes gleaming unnaturally, and passed out a roach to each of the smokers. They each removed some of the tobacco from the end of a regular cigarette and stuffed in the roach, twisting the end of the cigarette to keep it in place.

  Then the roaches were smoked. It was like the slaughterhouses in Chicago, where they boast of using “all of the pig but the squeal.” Not a grain of the precious marijuana was wasted.

  Ralph was very high, higher than he had been in months. He remained on the floor with his legs out in front of him and his eyes closed. Everything felt so good, so perfectly peaceful. Nothing mattered anymore. To hell with Stella, to hell with Susan, to hell with everybody. He just didn’t care about a thing, not a single thing.

  He stood up precariously and surveyed the room. He felt completely at ease now. A voice—Stella’s—suggested that all the girls strip to the waist, and he leaned up against the wall and watched as each of the women removed her blouse and bra, tossing the clothes to the floor.

  He walked over to Elaine Jordan. She was talking to her husband and her back was turned to Ralph. He reached around her from the back and his hands closed over her huge breasts. Her breasts were very firm and the nipple
s were hard and warm. He moved closer to her and the perfume wafted from her soft brown hair to his nostrils. The marijuana, which made every sense stronger and more acute, made his sense of smell so sharp that her perfume tickled his nose.

  Calmly, almost absently; he began to manipulate her breasts with his hands. She went on talking very intently to David, her husband, hardly even noticing what Ralph was doing, and he buried his face in her soft hair and went on caressing her breasts.

  Stella slipped her arm around Luke Swinnerton’s waist and let her breasts push against his chest. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “You didn’t seem to be getting any charge from the pot?”

  “It’s no kick for me anymore.”

  “How come?”

  He shrugged.

  “Tell me.”

  Silently he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm and showed her the arm. It was dotted with needle marks all the way up and down the main vein. Her eyes widened.

  “Horse,” he explained. “Heroin.”

  “How long?”

  “A month, maybe two.”

  “Are you hooked?”

  “Through the bag and back again.”

  “That’s too bad. What does Betty think?”

  Luke shrugged again. “She’s hooked, too.”

  “You mean you got her started?”

  Luke smiled sadly. “Betty’s a good little chick. She figured if I was going to have a habit she wanted to keep me company. She’s a good chick, you know?”

  Maria took David Jordan by the hand and led him away from his wife. Elaine was still standing in the same position but now her eyes were closed. Ralph continued to stroke her breasts.

  Maria said: “You want to make it with me?”

  David’s eyes travelled the length of her body. They took in the long black hair, the big brown eyes, the soft little breasts and the strong, golden thighs.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’s a scene.”

  “Greek?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Greek style,” she explained. “That’s how I feel like making it.”

  He shook his head.

  “Aw, why not?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Come on.” She took him by the hand again and tried to pull him toward the bedroom in the back. He resisted her.

  “Why not?” she demanded.

  “It’s just not my scene. I’ll make it French, if you want. I dig it that way.”

  “Larry and I did it like that this afternoon. I want to do it Greek style.”

  “Later,” he said, freeing himself and dismissing her. “It’s just not my scene.”

  Roger Brann caught Jimmy Henderson by the arm. Roger’s hair had fallen over into his eyes and his lips were very pale.

  “You seen Sally?” he demanded.

  “She disappeared into the bedroom with Larry Colestock a minute or two ago.”

  “Little bitch.”

  “Hell, you don’t expect her to stick with you all the time, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then what’s bugging you?”

  “I don’t know. She coulda told me.” Jimmy laughed.

  “Say,” Roger said. “You know, sometimes I get pretty fed up with women.”

  Jimmy looked at him.

  “You know what I mean?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well? Are you interested?”

  Jimmy thought for a moment. “What the hell,” he said finally. “It’ll be something new.”

  “You never done it before?”

  Jimmy shook his head.

  “Then c’mon. Maybe you’ll dig it.”

  “Where’ll we go?”

  “Bedroom.”

  “Can’t,” Jimmy said. “Larry and Sally are in there. I just told you.”

  “Where, then?”

  “I think the bathroom’s empty.”

  Roger smiled. “So what are we waiting for?”

  Sally took off her dress. She dropped it on the floor. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.

  “Hurry up,” Larry said. “I can’t wait much longer.” She joined him on the bed. He pulled her to him and kissed her, his tongue slipping between her lips. She let out a little moan and put her arms around his neck.

  “God,” she said. She buried her face in his neck. “Oh Jesus God.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I just wish I could make it,” she said. “That’s all. That’s all I want.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I just wish I could make it. I like it but it never happens for me.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “That’s a bitch,” he said. “Hell, you still got time though. How old are you, anyway?”

  “Almost sixteen.”

  “That all?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you got plenty of time. Lots of chicks, they’re twenty-five before they get banged for the first time. You got no worries.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  He ran his hand down her back. She was plump, and he liked the feeling of plenty of soft feminine flesh under his hand.

  “Hey,” he said. “I got an idea.”

  “What?”

  “You ever try it with you on top?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You might have a better chance of making it.”

  “Honest?”

  “There’s a chance.”

  “What the hell,” she said. “A chance is a chance.”

  Ralph was still handling Elaine’s breasts. She seemed totally removed to a dream world of her own and totally oblivious to his hands on her. He didn’t care. He just wanted to stand there forever with his hands cooled by her soft flesh.

  Maria tugged at his arm.

  “What do you want?”

  “You want to make it with me?”

  He flushed, remembering the last time. That time she hadn’t had to ask. She didn’t have a chance to ask, for that matter.

  He shrugged.

  “Please, Ralph. I’m trying to find someone who’ll make it Greek fashion.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Busy? All you’re doing is giving her a feel.”

  Ralph smiled. “Yeah, but it’s one hell of a feel.”

  “Do it Greek with me and you can feel me at the same time.”

  “Go away, will you.”

  “You go to hell,” she said, leaving him. “You go straight to hell.”

  Rhonda said: “If you’re on junk, do you and Luke do anything anymore?”

  “No,” Betty said.

  “That must be rough to take.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Well,” she said, “he can’t do it any more, what with the junk and all. Sometimes I want to, but it doesn’t matter too much to me. Just being with him is enough.”

  “I guess so.”

  “It’s a shame,” Betty said. “Luke and I were good together, you know. Luke used to be wonderful in bed.”

  “I know.”

  “Huh?”

  “It was a long time ago,” Rhonda said. “Before the two of you even knew each other.”

  Betty relaxed.

  “I wouldn’t horn in on you now,” Rhonda went on. “Even if I could. I know how you two feel about each other.”

  Betty got a dreamy smile on her face. “We’ve very much in love,” she said.

  “I know it.”

  “Very much in love. It’s so good this way. He loves me and I love him and it’s wonderful. We’re both pretty lucky, when you stop to think.”

  Stella and David Jordan were on the couch. Her arms were around his neck and their mouths were glued together. He had one hand under her skirt.

  “I want you,” she said. “I want you bad.”

  He lowered his head and began kissing
her on the breasts.

  “Oh, God,” she said. “I can’t wait, David.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “Then come on.”

  “Where? There’s somebody in the bedroom and the bathroom door’s locked.”

  “What’s the matter with right here?”

  “Here?”

  “Sure.”

  “Here? On the couch?”

  “Why not?”

  “People’ll be watching.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” she said. “I don’t give a damn if the whole world is watching.”

  “What the hell,” he said. “Let ’em watch.”

  Maria stood in the middle of the living room. She took off all her clothes and stood completely naked.

  Nobody seemed to notice her.

  “God damn it,” she shouted. “Doesn’t anybody want to make it Greek style?”

  Nobody said anything.

  “God damn it!”

  Everybody ignored her.

  “What a dull party,” she said. “What a stinking dull party!”

  She sat down on the floor and rested her head on her knees and started to cry.

  Jimmy and Roger walked out of the bathroom. “Well? Did you like it?”

  “It was a scene,” Jimmy admitted.

  “Yeah.”

  “I like it better with women, of course.”

  “Naturally. So do I.”

  “But it’s another way to make it.”

  “That’s how I look at it.”

  “And everything’s worth a go at some time or other.”

  “That’s the way I feel.”

  “Yeah,” Jimmy said. “Well.”

  Sally was breathing deeply. She snuggled her head against Larry’s chest and kissed him.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” she said. “I’ll be double-damned.”

  “I told you it would happen. All you had to do was give it a chance.”

  “You were right.”

  “See? There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re as normal as anybody else. It was just a question of giving yourself enough time.”

  She fell silent.

  Then she said: “Could I come and live with you?”

  “Why?”

  “I like it with you.”

  “How about Roger?”

  “To hell with Roger.”