The Collected Stories of Diane Williams

by Diane Williams

  Gretch is another one. I am going to sleep with Diane and I am going to sleep with Bill’s wife.

  Buster said he didn’t like Diane as much as he liked our other girlfriend.

  “Better eat up those peaches,” Buster said.

  I said, “Buster, right.”

  Buster, Buster, Buster.

  3

  Perhaps, Mary, I just want to see what will hap­pen to Buster.

  One would not know why any of this is, if this is a drama or if this is a pageant.

  Mary?—could you be with me here, Mary? This would not make things easier for me. I just wanted somebody like you to change her mind.

  I don’t have to say everything I could say about Diane.

  The doctor asked Buster to carry Diane in. Her skirt was short. She had bobbed her hair.

  She accepted a cigarette from Buster once she was back up on the chesterfield. She also accepted an ashtray from Buster, and she did a lot of throat-clear­ing. The doctor treated her like a friend. “Do you have a sore throat?” the doctor asked her.

  She’d be perfectly capable of that. I think Diane did have a sore throat! Diane is lifelike.

  “I’ll have a cup of tea!” Diane said.

  They all agreed with her about that.

  “She can always make me laugh,” Mother said. “She is the smartest person I know!”

  I will tell you this—I had the shivers and my neck hurt from sitting in my chair. “I love you with all of my heart,” I told Diane. I think it is thrilling to hear people say that.

  Diane said she would not mind if I told you how she and I do it—I am on top of her, then a little on the side of her.

  What a night! I thought I saw you and somebody else, high up on our wall, tiny-sized, getting ready to fuck each other, or you were just finishing up. Together, we had here great rivals in a house.

  There are many imitations of Diane here, made of horn and rubber and plastic.

  I merely tapped Harriet and she broke.

  4

  I wonder what this is. Diane was wearing crazy clothes. Her hat fell off of the chesterfield where she had set it.

  She had sprung back into a curled position. We washed the girl carefully.

  You think to yourself, I slept with that thing.

  What Diane still needs is what I need.

  I gave a little tap tap to the vagina of Diane—where there was a sizable stain on it—ink—still wet.

  When I took Diane to the bed it was so easy. “Isn’t this a nice ruffle?” I said.

  For your information I said, “What did they do to you Diane? Did they sew you up? Look how little you have made it!”

  Aren’t I a lucky boy?

  Diane gave me something which looks like Honorene. Diane fixed it so that I could wear it on my little finger. It’s a little chipped. It’s tight on me.

  She said, “I think I got that in Burma!” and when she asked me for it, I threw it across the room. Just joking.

  I woke up sexy and frightened, thinking about the girls in the window stacked up on top of each other, and thinking about you, you frightening person.

  5

  I have been expecting a nice compliment from you.

  Then they threw Buster across the room, when Buster tried to protect Diane.

  They pointed at Diane, and Buster tried to pro­tect Diane. They threw Buster across the room.

  Diane had her hat on and Diane said, “Where are we going?” and I said, “What do you mean where are we going?” and Diane said, “I am going with you.”

  I said, “Oh, Diane! Diane, oh, no!”

  One day she just left town and she went out West. She called me, she said, “I won the lottery.”

  Diane—the girl—she was not running away from me! I did a dumb thing! I did such a dumb thing! My hair is sticking out of my head because I did such a dumb thing!

  Buster returned here with Diane, saying that he had not had much fun with her. He carried Diane back to the hiding place after we had eaten our din­ner with Betty.

  Diane’s vulva is a bit better now. She wears lip rouge. She wears a necklace of pearls. She wiped her hands.

  She can climb in, she can climb out of an auto. She can drive it up onto, up on top of a roadway. She will do the cutest little trick. We are going to have to touch her vulva.

  We were not wrong in believing that she had been a full-fledged girl at one point, and we thought of touch­ing the vulva.

  6

  We have pried her apart, divided her again, dis­carded the center portion, given her a good soak­ing. We behave, for what it is worth, with our dicks protruding, as if we were gentlemen.

  I have worked pretty hard at this. This has taken me a long time. I expected this to be scratched or chipped by now and it isn’t.

  Diane touched the collar bar you gave me.

  She said, “What is this?”

  I said, “I found it. Somebody gave it to me. I found it.”

  She said, “Which? Did you find it? Or did some­body give it to you?”

  I said, “Both!”

  Mary, I spoke to Diane as frankly as I speak to you. I thought she was doing fine. There was a fluttering. I felt a tickling. I was stung.

  7

  I said, “I was stung.” I said, “Would you look, Diane?” I said, “Diane, dear, Olga wouldn’t mind it if you fished around inside of my trousers.”

  “Diane, you have been here forever,” Olga said, “haven’t you?”

  “No,” Diane said, “just for two years.”

  A woman asked us if we had seen Diane. The woman said, “That one wasn’t Diane.”

  I said, “It wasn’t?”

  “No,” the woman said.

  We were so surprised. Janet said, “That wasn’t Big Gretch.”

  “It wasn’t?” I said.

  Janet said, “No, no, that wasn’t Big Gretch.”

  I said, “Where in the world does Big Gretch go?”

  “Up and around,” Buster said, “that way.”

  I have a terrible tale I could tell you about that. That that is.

  Oh, my Mary!—I can tell you anything!

  I behave myself.

  I use simple words that you can understand—the vagina of Diane, the children of Mary. There isn’t any puzzle. I could have caught sight of you I realize now.

  I felt as if they were doing your fucking for you when I saw some people fucking.

  Can you remember my exact words out here in the blue?

  You should receive my instructions today.

  I apologize, Mary, for hurting your vagina. I apologize, Mary, for being so clumsy with your vagina. My worry is, is Buster fine now? Uh, the doctor spoke to Buster. The doctor said, “Good job, Buster.”

  Buster hasn’t been that careful and I have had to say to Buster, “Please be careful!”

  8

  What will Buster do for me? is what I ask myself. What do you think that Buster will do for me?

  Will Buster help out? Buster can be so clever. Mother is clever. It is no surprise, I suppose, that we are clever.

  I spoke to Buster as frankly as I speak to you, honey.

  I don’t think I will ever speak so frankly again. Buster can do anything within reason with Diane and Diane agrees with me about this.

  I cannot tell you how wonderful I feel when Diane tells anyone, “You are right.”

  Mary, I wonder what you would have done. One day you will tell me.

  We have another hard week next week. It will be one thing after another.

  To put it another way, it is not too difficult for us to get up into an asshole, and yet it makes some of us say our knees hurt to just think of going up there.

  In driblets, we execute our duties toward Diane.

&nbs
p; We have promised to carry her, to collect her, to distribute her, to fully dispose of her and her name. Daughter of William, second daughter of William. Born 1946. Helpful, tactful, genial—hasn’t she often tried to bring herself back to the table?

  Listen, she had gone off into the kitchen to get the dessert, to bring it back to us. We were waiting for her. No one was with her in the kitchen.

  We might feel a dessert is too scratched up or too cheap, that it is cheap. We could think it is thick.

  9

  Diane has to throw herself into bringing us some dessert.

  “What happened to her?” we said. “Is she com­ing back?” Boy! She should take every opportunity to come back.

  That was her in the window. We could tell by how she was hunched.

  At last she peeped in.

  Diane said, “Fuck me. Touch my breasts.”

  She comes forward. She greets you. She does not go backward. She says hello. Isn’t it strange she does not go backward when we walk forward?

  We make an effort to avoid getting angry with her. We try not to talk to her in a loud tone. We try not to interrupt her. We try to understand a girl when she speaks to us. We say, “Would you mind going over that again? Will you be kind enough?”

  Diane doesn’t have your confidence or your cour­age, but Mary, she is a good person.

  10

  Now Mary, Thelma is designed as my new friend.

  Mr. Cohen said that I should never bring Thelma to London because they beat up people who bring Thelma to London. If she is in it, they will even burn a store to the ground in London. I can bring Thelma to Paris. Paris is fine. Mr. Cohen does not know anything about Prague. Vienna is fine.

  I said I have been so careful of Thelma. I said I have never taken her anywhere. I have not fully en­joyed Thelma for all these years. I said I really wanted to take Thelma to Europe. Mr. Cohen said, “Not in the snow! because the skin cracks!”

  I am aware of the risks.

  I do not want people to gossip about me. You said, “I understand they question you.”

  We are not the only ones here.

  Mary, some of us found a sexual one, but we do not have enough wisdom to take care of so many full-fledged girls and their vulvas. That we still love those girls gives us some reassurance.

  11

  A girl should be entertaining and instructive in life. Will it ever be different? Marjorie said she didn’t think so.

  We can celebrate in the old style. Ahead of time, we prepare.

  We push our tongues, some do, into some of them, into their anuses.

  “You are pretty, too!” they said.

  They were the biggest, the most beautiful batch of people we have ever seen!

  The eldest of our girls was the fiercest. We don’t care. We hope she does come over. Something bet­ter comes along.

  She was pure gold, Ma’am. We have always said she should have lived in a fairy kingdom, fitted snugly into the fairy kingdom.

  It takes us so long to believe what we are saying.

  Upright Pearl

  How about the deity responsible for me?—why should it not move me through the realm, escort me to the other side of the predicament?

  “Come now,” I said, “I admire you. Can I ask you for another favor? Please, please. I am a friend of yours.”

  I heard singing, high and happy.

  There is another oddity over the last years. I ad­mire my darling husband. I gave him my little paw. I said to him, “Are you lonely?”

  “Yes, I am,” he said.

  He took me by my sleeve which is wrapped in very delicate skin, so you treat it in a special way. He treats all the skin that way. We go into Illinois.

  Now come the other ones who stand like peaks, who wear the brown coat, the ochre jacket—very short.

  One arrived who ate savory goldfish. She stopped. A surprise now would be best now, a nice one. The trees would not be melancholic. The lightning would be decreasing. An old woman who does not look well would show me her reliability.

  The wind would roll us over a ledge and when the rain starts we would go home.

  I am ashamed to say I am unhappy and we poured out liquor into our glasses and we drank it.

  The disorder in my left knee has returned, and this time for a different reason than the last time, I have pallor, debilitating pain, possibly fever, a no­ticeable tumor involving a tendon, and persistent tingling in my affected good try and first haunting.

  Ecstasy or Passion

  While I am alive, I have raptures. I have troubles with my nose. When I fell, I broke both of my arms. I didn’t know I had broken my arms. I sat down after I fell. There was semen on my penis. My hands were together on my belly, the way Bob’s were, as if somebody had tampered with my body. Somebody else—I did not do it!—must have killed me.

  Her Hair Is Red

  I would not have seen the tiny indiscreet comet. I am weak. But what I think is I saw stars, stairs, stars. I have been permitted to stick these last together.

  There is anything I should see.

  I should stand. I comb.

  Laws of nature can neglect a human. Herb helped me and my mother helped me.

  I did not know she liked those grails at the house. Saw her with the sack I gave her. I should ask for a sack back for more repose of my soul.

  In jam jars, she puts sundrops around and she buys small things such as toothpaste.

  What I think of she provides. In fact, sure she does.

  “How is Thursday,” she said, “or anything else?”

  There is all of this to say.

  They were proud of me. There is all of that to say at the time. I was made into a more womanish girl. I tell myself not to run away, whatever that means. Thick folds of my skin prevent me, what­ever that means. Rather, it is from the blather, rather, I am made.

  I parade around plenty, which means I do have the globular breasts. Yet, I am watched.

  Madder Lake

  “Well, yes,” says Jack, “but there are Frenches!”

  Uh, that’s very specific this time that here is Marcel French and George French and Steve. It’s Steve. It’s Mike. Mike’s companion’s name is George. He’s a French. They have their obligations. That’s Colleen and Marcel French and that’s Sherwood French.

  I’m the wriggle upright who is wearing women’s slipper-type shoes.

  I speak to Jack.

  “In a way,” I say, “I like it here.” It is not diffi­cult to understand why.

  I do have the summary of quarrels. Yet, Jack and I, we are boxed in with painless prickings. We chew our morals. Our clothes are good.

  Uh, that’s very specific this time that it’s the stuck-down Frenches—Steve and Mike French. All else is undulation and the inlaid outline.

  Frenches say—“I was there.” “It is my belief.” “Try wide in the last four years.”

  Colleen French is featured with tapering legs, with a raised back. She wears her woman’s head, her pad­ded arms. I dare not to speak a word to her, in front of her, at the end of March, near her. I spoke to Jack. My feeling is I should have.

  Tell Jack, Jack, tell Jack! Jack! Jack! My apron, it doesn’t feel too bad. My decorated hand, my pierced-together stretcher, my displayed mount, the hanging space on every side—sliding. They do not terminate! I left lunch cooking on the stove and I made coffee!

  Get myself endeared I should, endorsed with a day in mind. This day is Wednesday.

  All Frenches are not dispersed. They’ll lunch. A French says, “You don’t usually wish?”

  “Yes,” Jack told Mike, “I do wish, despite my mind.”

  I do wish too despite my mind. I feel quite sin­cere and Jack is wise. I take his arm. Uh, the day—if you want one of these days I will save it for you. Jack p
uts his hand out for my hand, puts an arm around the waist of my madder lake crepe dress. He is one of our ablest and most crafty.

  Now, for goodness’ sake, here is a girl who is formal and exceedingly general.

  The girl—a friend of Colleen French—says, “Are you all right? I think you’re over it.”

  I notice the shade of the sky. This shade of sky is “orange glow,” a visual effect usually created by lower skies, not often by this sort of sky which is so very high. This sort of sky’s highness manages to preserve the charm of direct sunlight.

  The girl says, “Pourquoi êtes-vous si triste?” There you are. “Il ne faut pas être triste.”

  Our sky’s so high. It’s at the gravel stop of a tall building.

  They Were Now at the Top

  With his wife and his child he had been summoned to come forward to this moment inside of the shop.

  The husband said, “Take that one.”

  The wife put a pair of glass frames on. She waited for her love of the glass frames to reveal itself.

  The child dropped its toy. The wife began to feel hatred for her child.

  “Please help me out,” the wife said.

  The husband said, “Take off that one.”

  The optician said, “Aah.”

  Someone else’s child left the optician’s shop.

  “Is there a bathroom here I can use?” the wife asked.

  The optician smiled. He said, “No.”

  Inside the bathroom a dish and a piece of soap skip like rams.

  The child fell to the floor.

  It spent much of its time for any reason.

  “You! You ought to pick it up,” the wife said to the husband, referring to the child.

  “He fell!” the husband said.

  “You couldn’t reach it if you tried,” the wife said.

  D. Beech and J. Beech

  Some layering is required and some combination of these people.

  Maybe I did not make it refreshing enough.