by Peter Rabe
“I asked because in that case I would have been sure you’re a wife beater.”
He ignored her.
“Tell me, Mr. Tapkow, do you always beat your women?” She moved closer, looking at him with a show of interest. “Do you enjoy beating women?”
“No,” he said.”
“Then why do you?”
He turned his head and said, “I didn’t beat you. I told you to shut up. Then you did shut up and that was that.”
“I see. And that was that Aren’t you going to tell me again?” She was needling him now.
“No. Next time I do what I warned you about.”
For a moment she didn’t say a thing. Then she said, “You know, Tapkow-uh, Benny-you turned out to be quite something else than a boot-licker… Well, aren’t you pleased?”
He hadn’t been following her.
“You dislike me a great deal, don’t you?”
This time he turned and looked at her. It hadn’t occurred to him. As a part of his deal she was everything. As a person she had no importance to him.
“You’re talking through your hat,” he said and turned to the road again.
“I have a talent for making people take note of me, Benny. Or wouldn’t you think so?”
“Jump in a lake.”
She had her arm on the back of the seat now and he could feel his sleeve brushing her blouse now and then.
“Insolent bastards like you don’t hold up very long, Benny Because it’s an act. What would you do if I jumped out of the car?”
He tensed, thinking for a moment that she might “I’d stop you,” he said.
“Aren’t you sweet. So you are taking note.”
“Just don’t jump,” he said, and moved to be clear of her.
“What if I told you I’m starving, that I’m starving to death? What would you do then?”
“I’d get you something to eat, for chrissakes. Now shut up, will you?”
She rolled away from him, lying slouched in the seat. There was a smile on her face, one side of her mouth up and crooked.
“Where are you going, Benny? To the place?”
“Yeah, to the place.”
“Did you say Daddy’s there, waiting?”
“I said he wasn’t there yet. He’s still in New York.”
She didn’t talk for a while and Benny forgot her. He was thinking he could miss the cutoff, fake motor trouble.
“Benny, I’m hungry. I’m serious now. Stop at the next place you pass.”
Here was his chance.
“There’s nothing on this road. There’s a place I know, but it’s east. We’ll have to turn off.”
“Go ahead and turn off.”
He turned off on a state road and drove east. Perhaps he’d gain time this way. He didn’t trust her as far as he could spit against the wind, but so far there was nothing she could do.
After a while they came to a roadhouse, a low, sprawling affair with palm trees in the front and a long row of cabins leading back into an artificial grove.
They got out and went to the screened patio with the tables. Benny had the car keys in his pocket.
“Order something while I’m gone. I’ve got to phone again.”
“Phone whom? My father?” She sounded sharp.
“No,” he said. “Not your father.”
She didn’t stop him again and he went inside and asked for a phone.
“Right behind you on the wall, bud.”
Benny pulled out a bill and flicked his finger against it. “I mean someplace private.”
The bartender came out from behind the bar and took the bill. “Follow me, sir.” They walked to the back. There was an office there and the phone was on the desk.
After the door closed behind him Benny picked up the phone. First the St. Petersburg number. He waited a long time, listening to the phone ring. Then he hung up. Next he placed a long-distance call to New York. While the operator made the connections he walked to the door and opened it. Pat was not at the table. He started to dish out when he saw her come back. The door that said “Ladies” was slowly swinging shut.
When he picked up the phone again the operator was already talking. “Ready with your call to New York, sir. Go ahead, please.”
“All right. Hello?”
“Hello, who is it?”
“Tapkow. That you, Wally?”
“Yeah. What’s up, Benny?”
“Wally, listen close. Something went wrong. We made the rendezvous and they picked up the wrong dame. She’s on the boat now. Can you get hold of them?… Waddaya mean no?… Three days? You mean I gotta hold onto this spitfire for three more days?… Yeah, of course I got Pendleton’s daughter. Now listen. I’ll call you again tomorrow and give you a contact where I can be reached. Meanwhile, try like hell to get to Alverato. He may get in touch sooner, because he ought to know by now he’s got the wrong dame… O.K. So long.”
He walked back to the table where Pat was waiting. This time he was going to find out. “Your father,” he said, and watched her face.
“My father?” Her voice sounded less friendly. “What did he-what did you tell him?”
“Nothing. I called the Florida place is all. They said he won’t be down for three days.”
He watched her exhale the smoke from a deep drag and it sounded as if she had been holding her breath. He sat back.
“That gave you a jolt, huh?”
For a second the sharp line showed between her eyes, then she leaned forward on her elbows. The very difference on her face made her look hard. “I get my jolts elsewhere,” she said. “Almost anywhere else.”
She moved closer. He had one hand on the table and she leaned forward on her elbows. One small breast rested on his hand.
He didn’t move it.
“Even with the help?” he said.
Her light eyes never wavered and she stayed where she was.
“Even with the help,” she said.
He hadn’t known just how brassy she could be and it made him angry. He moved the fingers of his hand on the table slightly. She must have felt it but didn’t stir.
“Later,” she said, and they looked at each other like enemies.
It wasn’t going to do to cross her. There were a number of things he would have liked to do to her, but the stakes were too big. So it wasn’t too hard to hold back and forget about her. And besides, she was a stranger to him. He had known women that sold it and others that didn’t. Pat was like neither. Pat was doing the buying.
Sometimes he had felt that there was another kind of woman, a woman to whom buying and selling had nothing to do with it, but he wasn’t thinking of that now. All he knew was that Pat meant business and nothing was going to mess that up. She wasn’t going to pull him aside, get herself frantic, and maybe keep leeching around when everything ought to be over.
“While you’re just sitting there, Tapkow, go get us a cabin.” She leaned back and looked at Benny with her cold eyes. “And don’t tell me this is news to you. You’ve known for the past hour we’d end up in bed.”
She was playing it his way, and he didn’t like it.
“Go on, Benny. Or I’ll do it with the waiter if you won’t.” She didn’t even blink.
He got up and left.
The cabin was way in the back. He stood by the bed, smoking, trying to get his temper under control. If he didn’t need the time, the time for the big chance… The door opened and she walked in. “You could have come back to pick me up,” she said.
“You got here.”
There was silence for a moment and he could hear her breathe. “How do you want it, Benny? With clothes or without?”
He turned as if stung and saw the smirk on her face. “I bet you feel like cast iron,” he said.
“You haven’t even touched me yet.” There was that clear, metallic tone in her voice. “But let’s not ruin my clothes. My luggage is in the other car, you remember.” She unbuttoned her blouse.
“If there’s any
chasing to be done around here, it’ll be me who’s doing it.” His breath hissed and for once he felt cornered.
She just laughed. The blouse fell to the floor, and then the skirt. Then she kicked her shoes off. Benny saw the muscles move in her long thigh.
“You take off the rest,” she said. “You do it.”
He sat on the bed and lit a cigarette. “This is your show, kid. You do it.” He blew smoke at her thigh.
She was all over him like a snake. One hand tore at his hair and he felt with surprise how one sharp first smacked into his mouth. Then she caught his nose. He jumped up and she flew against the opposite wall. Then the surprise stayed with him when he saw her come back. The flat of his hand caught her cheek, but her eyes, like a fighter’s, never left his. And then he felt her balled fists stinging his ribs, then his neck and stomach. He reached for her and they fell on the bed, struggling. He could feel the muscles in her twisting back. When her bra ripped she suddenly stopped. Benny saw her small breasts, like hard lemons, and she twisted to meet him. But she stiffened when she saw his eyes. He grabbed her and with a swift pull she was suddenly on her feet. Her arms were pinned back, then her feet thrashed free again, and when she came down she was cramped in the dark as the closet door swung shut and the lock clicked into place.
His cigarette had rolled under the bed. He bent to pick it up, sat in the chair by the window, and smoked. He watched the closet door tremble with her pounding. He sat and smoked another cigarette. After a while there was no more noise. It had got dark outside and the gloom of the cabin just showed the rumpled bed and her clothes on the floor. He pulled the sheets straight, then went to the closet.
She stood flat against the wall. Benny could see her breathe and he saw that her light eyes weren’t cold any more.
“Come out,” he said.
She didn’t move, only her breath came faster.
Benny took her bare arm and led her to the bed. She was different now. Her nakedness was smooth and soft in the dark room.
“Lie down.” He pulled the covers back.
She lay down, waiting. This was as new to her as it was to him. Then he covered her with the blanket. He stepped back and looked down at her. “No dice,” he said.
For a moment she said nothing. “Start all over?”
“We’ll start all over,” he said. “Good night, now.”
Once in the middle of the night she woke up and looked for him. His breathing came from near the door, where he was lying on the floor asleep. You couldn’t have opened the door without waking him.
Chapter Twelve
Before breakfast, before Pat woke up, he made another call. He called New York, he talked fast and urgently, and then he hung up. No word from Alverato.
The bad news made him edgy, but he didn’t find out just how bad it was till he joined Pat at the table. He sat down, they looked at each other, and then he saw it. She wasn’t through with him yet.
He thought he knew why. Of the men she had known, only Tapkow had been a stranger. He hadn’t wanted a thing. He had stood back, holding back, and that alone made him special.
“Let’s go,” he said, and put the change on the table. She followed him to the car without having asked where they were going.
He was sullen behind the wheel, and they took off with a sudden jerk, the wheels spitting gravel. He too didn’t know where he was going.
“Back to Dad’s place?” she said after a while. She had lit a cigarette, dragged on it, and then offered it to him. He took it without thinking. “Well?”
He had heard the question and hoped he wasn’t figuring it wrong. “No,” he said. “Not his place.”
It wasn’t a mistake. She sidled over and leaned against him, one arm along his back. He could feel her through the blouse. “Three days, Benny?” He could tell by her voice she was smiling at him.
“Three days,” he said. “You and me.”
“We’ll have some excitement?”
“Sure.” His short smile was automatic. He was trying to think. She was crazier than he had thought, half stone, half woman, only it had been easier before. He’d get her back on the old tack, the mean bitch who was so cold it would probably need a blast furnace of excitement to make an impression on her. Not like now, when even his shortest smile seemed to please her, but one big, impersonal blast of excitement-and then he remembered about Tober, crazy Tober. He’d been somebody once, before Benny’s time. He’d been with Old Man Ager for a while and he had helped Benny find the spot with Pendleton. Tober had been friendly. Benny was hoping that Tober was still that way. He hadn’t seen him for a while, ever since Tober quit, rich and bored. He’d moved to that place he had on the Gulf and stayed there most of the year. He’d imported his excitement, being rich and bored.
“Where are we going, Benny?” she asked again.
“Down the road a piece.”
“Excitement?”
“No tea and crumpets,” he said.
“Where?”
“You’ll see. Some party-time people I know.”
They drove for another hour. A private drive took them off the highway through neglected land. Dead swamp grass and crooked trees covered the view on both sides, but suddenly it changed to rich green growth and a tended row of palms. Another bend showed the house, which sprawled in all directions with little pillars, balconies, and a lot of green stucco. There were cars all over the wide yard, but nothing else.
“Where is everybody?” Pat was leaning out and looking.
“You stay here while I go see.”
Benny got out of the car and walked into the house. The big hall looked empty. He walked to the back, where the ocean was, and looked down the veranda.
“Looking for someone?”
The voice was high and fast, almost like the ping from an air rifle. Benny turned. “Tober, you old crook, it’s good to see you!” Benny pumped a limp hand.
Tober burst out in a shrill laugh when he saw who it was, and his hand became strong like a claw. “Benny the Tapkow! How have you been, how have you been? Come sit and have a drink. Christ, wait till the rest of them get a load of you! Say, man, what happened to your hat? No hat, Benny, I see no hat.”
Tober had talked with that rapid excitement in his voice which happened to him three times a day. Three times daily Tober was a pistol, sharp, fast, and full of noise. His shiny eyes glittered back and forth, and his long, stooped body looked tense.
“You high, Tober?” Benny tried to see the man’s pupils.
“Like a rocket, Benny, like a red, white, blue, and purple rocket. But for you slow-witted squares I got tamer stuff. How about some Scotch, how about some hipscotchdipscotch Scotch splashed over rocks, Benny boy?”
“Slow down, Tober. Listen, I got a guest. You mind if I bring a guest?”
“I’ll make two hipscotchdip-”
“Tober, pay attention. This is kind of a special deal. She and I got to stay under wraps for a day or so. I thought-”
“Benny boy, this is the place to stay under a wrap, if that’s the kind of thing you fancy. Where is this delight?”
“Outside. I’ll get her.”
Benny walked to the front door and waved Pat to come in.
“It’s O.K.?” she asked.
“Is it O.K.? Is it O.K.!” Tober rushed out to grab her by the hand. “I’d say, being a judge of such,” and he looked her up and down.
“Tober, you were going to get some drinks.” Benny took the girl by the arm and watched Tober rush into the house.
They went to the back, where a long veranda faced the Gulf, and sat down.
“Who’s Tober?” Pat asked.
“Just somebody I know.” Benny thought for a moment about the Tober he used to know, fifty pounds heavier, a quiet guy.
“Is he a little crazy?”
“Sometimes. He made too much money. Drives him crazy now and then.” He walked back and forth. “Where in hell are those drinks?”
There wasn’t a soul around,
but a piano was being played someplace in the house.
“Let’s look for the piano player, seeing that Tober disappeared.” Pat got out of her chair.
They followed the sound of the music, which was alternately plinking and crashing with a fast rhythm, but it wasn’t so easy to find. They walked through one room where a man was sleeping on a couch. He had a three-day growth of beard and his cheeks puffed out like a bellows when he breathed. They saw a blonde who was sunning herself on a sun deck. She was stark naked and waved at them as they passed. When they finally reached the room with the piano, they found Tober, sitting there on a stool and hitting the keyboard as if he were chopping wood. He stopped when he heard them.
“The drinks!” he yelled, and ran out of the room.
“You sit here.” Benny pushed Pat onto the couch. “I better watch him.”
He could feel her following him with her eyes and then he closed the door behind him.
He wanted Tober to stick around, take some of the work off his shoulders and help put this thing on a business basis.
Tober was in the big kitchen, breaking ice cubes out of a tray.
“A delight,” he said without transition. “A lovely sight of delight.”
“Yeah.”
“Romantic Benny!” Tober said. “Here-warm yourself on an ice cube.”
“Listen, Tober. Anybody here from your old crowd?”
“All dead,” Tober said, “except me. I’m recharged daily.”
“Anybody here knows Pendleton and those people of his?”
Tober looked up and his eyes were almost normal. “I thought I knew her,” he said. “The Pendleton kid!”
“Yeah.”
“An ill-fated romance, Romeo Tapkow, an ill-”
“Business,” Benny said. “I’m just bringing it up so you can tell me to blow. This is like dynamite.”
“A snatch? An old-fashioned abduction?” Tober started to shake with laughter. It stopped as unaccountably as it had started and then he winked. “And doesn’t she know it?”
“Hell, no.”
“Bring the ice, Benjamin.” Tober picked up the tray with the bottle and glasses. They walked down the long corridor that led to the room where Pat was waiting.
