I kissed the eyebrow with the pencil on it. Then I kissed her smooth forehead and the corners of her mouth and the tip of her nose. I kissed her ear and then caught the lobes between my teeth and bit them lightly. Allison gasped.
My hands were on her breasts. I cupped them in my palms then placed just the flat on my palms against the tips and caressed them with a circular motion.
Allison grasped my hand and pulled it away.
"What did you do that for?" I asked.
"I couldn't take much more," she replied. "I was getting too aroused."
"That, my dear child, was the object."
Allison pushed gently against my shoulders. She sat up and put her arm around my shoulders.
"I couldn't make love to you here. I'd be too afraid that Ruth would come in on us."
"O.k., I see your point. We'll go to my apartment."
"I don't think that would be wise. It would look odd. Ruth might get suspicious if I spent the night at your place."
"Oh great. I can just see what's going to be happening from now on. I'll be lucky if you spend more than one night a week with me."
"What can I do?" Allison asked. "I'll stay with you whenever Ruth's out on a flight but when she's here I've got to sleep home most of the time."
"Uh uh, I don't go for it. You asked for a run of the play contract and that means nightly performances plus matinees once or twice a week. I'll report you to Equity."
"Do I get star billing?"
"Sure, but you know what happens if you ever goof it. Like in the movies, your understudy will play the part for you one night and she'll do such a good job that you'll have to switch places with her."
"And just who is my understudy?"
"My independence," I said. "I'm going to tell you something that I've never confessed to anyone before. Most of the time I'm so damned lonely that I do one of two things. Either I try to lose myself with anyone who is available for the evening or I make a companion of my loneliness. I've reached the point where I've almost externalized it. It's something that I have to deal with, something that walks beside me and demands my attention as a person would. Does that make any sense to you?"
"Yes, I think I know what you mean."
"Because of what I've told you, I've made a point of never getting too involved with any one person. I did that once and I found out that the desire to be with someone who isn't there isn't like the other kind of loneliness. It's a need that can be satisfied only one way. By the presence of the woman I love," I continued. "Without her beside me I'm lost. No other woman can really distract me from my loneliness.
"I hadn't planned on falling in love with you. Originally I just wanted to get you into bed. That's changed. I am in love with you now, Allison. Very deeply in love. For that reason I'm going to insist that we see each other very frequently. I suppose the ideal arrangement for me would be to get married. That way I'd be assured of companionship. But I am in love with a woman. I want the nearest approach to marriage that we can have. I want to live with you, Allison."
She was silent for a few minutes. Then she said in a flat voice, "You know that I love you. That there is no one who means as much to me as you do." She stopped speaking and stared at the wall, a set expression on her face.
"But you won't live with me?"
"I didn't say that."
"Then what's the problem?" I asked.
"I heard from the casting director on the Phil Singer Show today. They want me for the part. That means I'll have to move to California if I take it."
"Did you tell him you'll take the part?"
"I told him that I'd let him know by the end of the week," Allison said. "They want me to sign the contracts Monday. It's a good contract. I'd be making $500 a week with provisions for residuals. Also, the contract would be with the show and not with the network so I would be free to take other jobs with other stations if I could get them. The only thing wrong is that they're insisting on a three year contract."
"What if you get an offer for a job in New York during that three year period?"
"There's not much chance of that. Most television will be coming from the Coast. TV's on its way out on the East Coast except for the small independent stations. I'm not ready to go on the stage yet. I had planned to stay in television for a least a couple of years longer before trying the legitimate stage anyway.
"There's another thing. Crystal soap asked me to do spot commercials for them. They wanted me to fly out to Hollywood to film the commercials there. If I were more available, chances are I'd get a lot of work doing spot commercials for them. They do a lot of network advertising. It's just possible that they might select me to represent their product. All kinds of things could come from that. Look what happened to Betty Furness. Since she's been doing the commercials for Westinghouse everybody knows her. She can practically write her own ticket. One of the men at the agency told me that Crystal soap is considering using a similar approach. They're looking for a girl and he thought I might be the one they'd pick."
"You'd be a fool not to go," I said.
"This is beginning to sound like a soap opera," Allison said. "You know, the kind that 'poses the problem: Can a girl with a career have a home?' Sloane, I hadn't counted on falling in love either. But I have. I don't want to lose you."
"I don't want to lose you either."
"Then you'll come to the Coast with me?"
"And have a Hollywood marriage? No, you'd leave me for some star. It always happens. Success would go to your head and I'd begin to look like small potatoes."
"You're joking."
"Yes, I'm joking," I said. "But there is some truth behind it. In any event, it's a big move. Let me think it over. I'll come to a decision soon. In the meantime, if you love me, you'll sign those contracts with the Phil Singer Show quickly, before they have a chance to change their minds. It's too good an opportunity to pass up."
"What's with the nauseating burst of altruism? I don't see you as the self-sacrificing type," Allison said.
"You're right. I'm not. There's more to it though. Allison, remember that night at Happy's place in the country? The night Marv raped you?"
"You don't think I could have forgotten that, do you?" she asked.
"The question was rhetorical. The point is that I think that what happened was socio-economic in origin. I'm not discounting the fact that we were dealing with a bunch of drunks. Perverted ones at that. However, there are other points to be considered."
"What do you mean?" Allison asked.
"Simply, that if you and I had had more prestige in those men's eyes they wouldn't have dared to do what they did. No matter how drunk they got they'd never try to pull something like that with an Amy Ferguson.
"I think we both agree that their standards and values are pretty smelly," I continued, "but so's almost everything in this world. We've got two choices. Either we go off into some sort of intellectual, spiritual or emotional limbo where we don't have to deal with the world around us or we come to terms with it. Since neither of us are revolutionaries, we have to apply the old principle... if you can't lick them, join them. Beat them at their own game."
"That's an awfully pessimistic way of looking at things."
"Not really. We're both interested in the entertainment industry. You as an actress and me as a writer. Therefore we've got to be aware of the attitudes of society. Otherwise, they won't buy what we've got to sell. People who cater to the public can help change things they don't like. But they do it gradually. Surreptitiously almost. The public will accept gradual evolution but they tar and feather revolutionists."
"Haven't you gotten away from your main point?" Allison asked.
"Yes, guess I have. Anyway, the point is that I know that I'll never be really happy until I have the kind of security and freedom that comes with money and fame. This is supposed to be a democracy but I've seen too much to swallow it whole. The little guy gets pushed around plenty in this here United States. That's o.k. if it doesn't
bother him but it drives me wild. I think you're very much like me in that way.
"Like most things, this comes down to a very simple point. Namely, what I want out of life is happiness and I can't be happy unless you are too. Hence, I want you to do what you must do in order to get ahead. I want you to be in a position where you'll never have to go through anything remotely resembling that night with Marv Banner again."
Allison nodded agreement and got up from the couch. She went out to the kitchen and made more coffee. She came back with it and sat down again.
"I don't see why you can't come to California, though. I'm interested in our mutual happiness too. It appears to me that we could further our careers out there and still have a home together," she said.
"I haven't said that I won't go. I just want some time to think it over. In the meantime, you go ahead and sign those contracts. I mean it, Allison, you'd go down in my estimation if you passed up an opportunity like this because of me."
"But I don't see what there could possibly be to make you want to stay here."
"There are some things I don't want to put into words now. Just accept that I have a lot of thinking to do, will you? Thinking that I'll have to do alone."
"Are you trying to say that you don't want to see me?" she asked.
"Of course not. I’ll see you any time when you can make it. Not here though. I'm not going to put up with these artificial restrictions. I want you to come to my apartment where we can be alone. There are other things that I can't put into words. Things that can only be expressed when you're in my arms."
"Ruth is leaving on a flight tomorrow. She won't be back till the end of the week."
"You'll stay with me the whole time?"
'Try and get rid of me. Don't worry, I'll make arrangements to be with you when Ruth's in town also. I'll think of something to tell her," Allison said.
* * *
I left shortly after that. It sounds crazy I know but I felt marvelous. The majority of the conversation had been about depressing matters but I felt good because I thought that I had made Allison see a side of me she hadn't known before. Or maybe I felt good because for a change I had stopped clowning around someplace besides in bed. Maybe it made me feel good that I had shown Allison and myself that I wasn't always completely selfish. I don't know what it was. Anyway, I felt wonderful.
There was a note in my mailbox. It was from Sylvan, asking me to call him. I did.
"Damn!" he exclaimed when he heard my voice. "Where the bloody hell have you been? I was worried when you didn't call me all weekend. I tried to reach you but there was no answer."
"Bubbala, I didn't know you cared," I answered.
"Shove it. I looked for you everywhere. I asked around at the Harbor and they said you hadn't been in since Friday night. Then I went around to every gay bar in town. I even called the morgue."
"A logical progression."
"Come off it. You're all right? You didn't get into an accident or anything?" Sylvan asked.
"Hardly. I was out of town for the weekend."
"Oh? Tell papa all about it. You had a date with Allison Friday, didn't you?"
"That's right. We had dinner and then went to the Harbor. We decided to go to Woodstock that night so off we went."
"And you stayed the whole weekend?”
"Right."
"You finally made it with Allison?"
"Right again."
"Hats in the air! Whoopee! Huzzah and similar expressions in the same vein! Give me all the gory details, darling. I want to know simply everything."
"I will not. There are some things that a lady just does not discuss."
"Come on. It's just between us girls," Sylvan said.
"A provocative premise. However, I really don't think it's right for me to discuss it."
"You're dying to and you know it."
"You're incorrigible," I laughed. "O.k., you're right and you know it. I'd love to be able to tell somebody about it."
"Fine. Now, first of all, was she any good in bed?"
"Divine."
"Splendid. Now tell me who did what to whom."
"Sylvan!"
"Don't fight me, love. That prude bit just isn't becoming to you."
"Your round. I guess you'd call it about fifty-fifty. I took the lead at first but Allison was in there pitching before the weekend was over."
"You don't know how much I envy you. It sounds as if it was simply divine," Sylvan said.
"Oh? I didn't know you went for it. In that case, I'll introduce you to some nice girls I know."
"Girls! Don't be obscene."
"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. I should have known better."
"Just keep it in mind, dearie. I won't have you defaming my character that way. I'm a pure little boy's boy all the way. Didn't you know that fornication is against the law in this state?"
"And they're giving out prizes for pederasty?"
"I'll ignore that one. You're just jealous because I'm prettier than you are. I have this trouble all the time. No one loves me for myself alone but for my yellow hair," he said.
"You've dyed it!"
"Don't be an ass, my sweet. I wish I could but I'd never get another job. Besides, Mike likes my hair this way."
"Who's Mike?" I asked.
"A divine bit of seafood I picked up this weekend."
"Seafood?"
"A sailor. Really, Sloane, happiness had made you positively obtuse. Mike's on shore leave for a week and he's staying with me."
"And you're talking this way in front of him?"
"Oh, he can't hear me. He's passed out in the bedroom.”
"I thought you'd been drinking." Sylvan never sounded that swishy unless he was soused.
"I'm still coherent and that's all that matters. Now tell me more. When are you and Allison going to get a place together?"
I told him about the California deal. I said that I had urged Allison to take the job.
"Happy martyr's day! Do you know what you're doing in sending her out to Hollywood where the deer and degenerates play? You better assert squatter's rights and go with her if you don't want to have her turn into one of those ghastly Hollywood queer-nymphomaniacs," he said.
"I haven't made up my mind yet about going."
"What's the problem?"
"Well, partly that Allison has a tendency to try to manipulate and direct me. I don't want her to think I'll just follow her around like a puppy wherever she goes."
"Not good enough. I don't believe that's the real reason for your not going."
"There are a few other things that I'd rather not go into," I said.
"I've got it," Sylvan said. "You're afraid that if Allison finds out that she has too much power over you she'll drop you like Marilyn did. That's it, isn't it?"
"Go get another drink. You're becoming revoltingly sober."
"I'm right, I'm right!" he crowed.
"O.K., so you're right. Anyway, let's meet for lunch sometime this week. We'll discuss it then."
"Love to. I'd like to see Allison again too."
"I've got an idea. Why don't you and Mike come here for dinner Wednesday night?"
"Splendid. Just don't serve oysters, please."
"Why? Mike too much for you?"
"Darling, I'm down to a shadow of my former self," Sylvan said delightedly. "I don't think I'd be able to survive if he stayed for more than a week."
Just then I could hear a gruff voice calling Sylvan in the background. "Be with you in a moment," Sylvan called back.
"I'll let you go now," I said. "Mustn't keep your seafood waiting. It might spoil."
"Honey, you don't know the half of it. He's terribly impatient. Does perfectly terrible things to me if I'm late. I love it," he whispered. "Oh, here he comes now. Don't get nasty, love, I was going to go to you in a minute. Well, Sloane, I'll... Mike, Mike, what are you doing? Mike, I'm on the phone. I'm talking to a girl! Mike, at least let me hang up. Oh-h-h, Mike!" Sylvan's voice had chan
ged to a breathless soprano. "Sloane, we'll see you Wednesday at seven."
"Right. Take good care of your sailor now."
"I have no choice. Mike, please! The blinds are up!"
CHAPTER 10
Wednesday night Sylvan brought his friend to my apartment for dinner. Sylvan was wearing a rust coloured suede smoking jacket with pastel trousers. He had a paisley ascot around his neck. I learned something new about Sylvan. He didn't have to be drunk to become feminine. Apparently the company of another man brought out the swish in him.
Mike was a sailor. With a vengeance he was a sailor. Big and beefy with a voice that sounded like a fog bell. He was handsome in a prehistoric sort of way.
There are only two types who look good in Navy blues and Mike was one of them. Slim, slight men look kind of sexy in the tight pants. Guys like Mike look good because the skinlike outfit shows off every muscle and emphasizes their masculinity.
As a conversationalist he was a good tennis player. Mike laughed a lot. At things that were funny and even at some things that weren't. He had a big deep laugh that made the muscles on his shoulders quiver.
We asked him questions about shipboard life to which he responded in monosyllables. Sylvan supplied the details for us. I don't know when he found out anything about Mike unless the guy became talkative in the most inappropriate moments. He sure as hell didn't talk much when he was vertical.
Sylvan danced attendance on Mike as if the sailor were a delicate woman who couldn't do anything for herself. He brought him his drinks, even mixed them and removed the swizzle stick before giving them to Mike. Mike looked a little embarrassed when Sylvan curled up on the floor at his feet and stared up at him with adoring eyes.
I felt sorry for Sylvan. He deserved better than this. Sylvan had a good mind, lots of personality and a lot to offer someone. Mike just wasn't capable of appreciating him.
These Curious Pleasures Page 10
