Part 2 (1/2)
”I'm serious. I'm even bored with liquor. By Jesus, I think I'll go on the wagon.”
”When you go on the wagon, boy, I'll believe you're going mad for sure. But not before.” She put her own gla.s.s down as if it suddenly frightened her. ”Why do we all drink so much, Jackson? Is it something in the air down here? Does the Village contaminate us?”
”I wish to G.o.d it did. I'd move out tomorrow.”
”Are we all bad for each other?”
”Poisonous. But that's not the reason.”
”It's contagious, then. One person gets hooked on booze and he hooks everybody else.”
”Guess again.”
”Because we're queer?”
”No, doll. Come with me.” He took her by the hand and led her on a weaving course through the living room to the bathroom. The dachshund, Nix, followed them, bustling with nonalcoholic energy. Jack aimed Beebo at the mirror over the washbowl. ”There, sweetheart,” he said. ”There's your answer.”
Beebo looked at herself with distaste. ”My face?” she asked.
Jack chuckled. ”Yourself,” he said. ”You drink to suit yourself. As Laura said, you drink because you like the taste.”
”I hate the taste. Tastes lousy.”
”Beebo, I love you but you are the G.o.ddam stubbornest female alive. You don't drink because anybody asks you to, or infects you, or forces you. You're like me. You need to or you wouldn't! Ask that babe in the mirror there.”
”I can't live with that, Jack,” she whispered.
”Okay, don't. I can't either. I just made up my mind: I'm quitting.”
She turned and looked at him. ”I don't believe you.”
He smiled at her. ”You don't have to,” he said.
”And what if you do? How does that help me?”
He shook his head. ”You have to help yourself, Beebo.
That's the h.e.l.l of it.” He turned and walked toward the front door and Beebo followed him, scooping Nix off the floor and carrying him with her. ”Don't go, Jack,” she said. ”I need somebody to talk to.”
'Talk to Laura.”
”Sure. Like talking to a wall.”
'Talk anyway. Talk to Nix.”
”I do. All the time.” She held the little dog tight and turned a taut face to it. ”Why doesn't she love me any more, Nix? What did I do wrong? Tell me. Tell me...” She glanced up at Jack. ”I apologise,” she said.
”What for?”
”For laughing about your kid”. Your little girl.” She stroked Nix. ”I know how it feels. To want one. You just have to make do with what you've got,” she added, squeezing Nix.
Jack stared a little at her. ”You know, it comes to me as a shock now and then that you're a female,” he said.
”Yeah. Comes as a shock to me too.”
He saw tears starting in her eyes again and put a kind hand on her arm. ”Beebo, you're trying too d.a.m.n hard with Laura. Relax. Ignore her for a couple of days.”
”Ignore her! I adore her! I die inside when she slams that door at me.” She dropped Nix suddenly and threw her arms around Jack, nearly smothering him. ”Jack, you've been through it, you know what to do. Help me. Tell me. Help me!” And her arms loosened and she slumped to the floor and rolled over on her stomach and wept. Nix licked her face and whimpered.
Jack stood looking over her, still smiling sadly. Nothing surprised him now. He had lived with the heartbreaks of the h.o.m.os.e.xual world too long.
”Sure, I know what to do,” he said softly. ”Just keep living. Whatever else turns rotten and dies, never mind. Just keep living. Till it's worse than dying. Then it's time to quit.”
”Ohhhh,” she groaned. ”What shall I do?”
”Stop loving her,” he said.
Beebo turned over and gaped at him. Jack shrugged and there was sympathy in his face and fate in his voice. ”That would straighten things out, wouldn't it?”
Beebo shook her head and whispered, ”I can't. You know I can't.”
”I know,” Jack repeated. ”Goodnight, Beebo.”
CHAPTER 2.
THE BEDROOM DOOR opened and Beebo surprised Laura sitting on the closet floor fingering her shoes and dreaming. The party was two days past, the hangovers were still with them, but love was seven days behind them. Beebo didn't know how much longer she could take it. She had tried, since Jack's advice about relaxing, to keep her distance from Laura. It had not worked miracles, but it had helped.
However, Laura resented the love she could no longer return. Perhaps it was anger at her own failing, her own empty heart. Laura felt a sort of shame when Beebo embraced her. She blamed herself secretly for her fading affection. Beebo's love had been the strongest and Beebo's words, when she spoke of it, the truest. And yet Laura had said those same words and felt those same pa.s.sions and believed, as Beebo had believed, that it would last.
She could not be sure where she had gone wrong or when that lovely flush of desire had begun to wane in her. She only knew one day that she did not want Beebo to touch her. When Beebo had protested, Laura had lost her temper and they had had their first terrible fight. Not a spat or an argument or a disagreement, as before. A fighta physical struggle as well as a verbal one. An ugly and humiliating thing from which they could not rise and make love and rea.s.sure each other. That had been almost a year ago. Others had followed it and the breach became serious, and still they clung to each other.
Only now Laura's need was weakening and it was Beebo who held them together almost by herself. It was Beebo who gave in when a quarrel loomed, who took the lead to make peace afterwards, to try to soothe and spoil Laura. Beebo had the terrible fear that one of these days the quarrel would be too vicious and Laura would leave her. Or that she would go beyond the point of rational suffering and kill Laura.
Once or twice she had dreamed of this, and when she had wakened in sweat and panic she had gone to the living room and turned the light on and spent the time until dawn staring at it, repeating the jingles of popular tunes in her mind as a sort of desperate gesture at sanity.
Now Beebo stood looking down at Laura and at Nix, who was chewing on a pair of slippers, and she felt a wrenching in her heart. It just wasn't possible for her to ignore Laura any longer. She had kept hands off since the party and her talk with Jack. There had been no begging, no shouting, no furious tears. Now she felt she deserved tenderness and she knelt down and took Laura's chin in her hand and kissed her mouth.
”I love you,” she said almost shyly.
And Laura, who wanted only to leave her, not to hurt her, lowered her eyes and looked away. She could not say it any more I love you, Beebo. It wasn't true. And Beebo knew it and the knowledge almost killed her, and yet she didn't insist ”Laura,” she said humbly. ”Kiss me.”
And Laura did. And in a little wave of compa.s.sion she said into Beebo's ear, ”I don't want to hurt you any more.”
Beebo took it the wrong way, the way that hurt her least. She took it to mean that Laura was apologising and wanted her love again. But Laura meant only that Beebo had been dear to her once and that it was awful to see her so unhappy. ”It's my fault,” she said. ”Only”
”Only nothing,” Beebo said quickly. ”Don't say it Say sweet things to me.”