Gould

Read Gould Online

Authors: Stephen Dixon

Tags: #Gould

BOOK: Gould
7.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Gould

Stephen Dixon

Dzanc Books
1334 Woodbourne Street
Westland, MI 48186
www.dzancbooks.org

Copyright © 1997 Gould by Stephen Dixon

All rights reserved, except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher.

Published 2012 by Dzanc Books
A Dzanc Books r
E
print Series Selection

Excerpts from
Gould
have been published in Bakunn Cups, CutBank, Literary Review, Sonoma Review, and Two Girls Review

eBooks ISBN-13: 978-1-937854-03-4
eBook Cover Designed by Awarding Book Covers

Published in the United States of America

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author
.

 

To my sister Bunny for her support

CONTENTS

Abortions .

Evangeline..

Abortions

 

T
he first was when he was seventeen and just a freshman in college and she was a couple of years older. She originally told him she was eighteen because she didn't think he'd want to go out with someone almost two and a half years older than he. But he looked through her wallet and found out her real age and later told her “I'm sorry, I went into your wallet, I won't pretend I was looking for anything but to find out how old you are, because I didn't think you were eighteen—you don't act it and that you're almost a junior and your looks and clothes. And I found one of your IDs with your age on it, and so what?—for what's wrong with you being that much older than me? We seem suited together, don't we?—no big deal like where you experienced World War Two and knew what be-bop was and I didn't. And it's not that you act younger than you are but maybe I act older and if that seems like bragging then just that two and a half years isn't much difference at our age, or at least not between us.” Later he thought, Maybe her being almost twenty and so far along in college is the reason she let him go so far with her so quickly or let him get in her at all: third date, her folks not home, first one they kissed, second she let him rub her behind through her skirt, they'd intended to see a movie but she said while he stood by the door waiting for her to get her coat “I don't really feel like going out, it isn't that I'm feeling unwell or my period or anything like that, would it be all right if we just watched something on TV and maybe later go out for a snack?” and he said he hates TV, it's for idiots, and Saturday night?—nothing's on but dopey comedy shows; he would never own one if he had his own place, he never watches it, his father insists they do at dinner—the news; the news is important, his father says; it's the world, it's what's around us, you learn things; you're a smart boy but afraid to learn things or think the world today is unimportant?—and it always leads to arguments like that and sometimes him leaving the table before dinner's finished.
I Love Lucy
—oh wonderful; Arthur Godfrey, Sid Caesar, George whatever-his-name-is, with the crewcut and checkered jacket and overstuffed shoulder pads and always a bow tie and horselaugh—what morons, and she said “Fine, we won't watch TV, but why do you have to get so virulent about it? Maybe we should go to a movie after all, though I looked in the paper and there's nothing in walking distance that I want to see and I really don't want to take a subway or bus back and forth.” “We can stay here and talk,” and she said “All right, hang up your talk and let's coat,” and he said “Did you mean that?” and she said “What?” and he said “You reversed a couple of words; it was pretty clever,” and she said “I can't take credit for it. I have a brain problem, nothing fatal, and sometimes do that and also with my reading. But what do you want to talk about?” and he said “Can't we discuss this in a more comfortable spot?”—already maneuvering her, not so much to score but to kiss again, this time with the tongue, feel her breasts, maybe get his finger in her cunt, but that'll probably come the next date or one or two after that—“You have a living room with chairs and a couch here, don't you?” and she said “Nope, we read, talk and play chess on the floor. Well, chess I sometimes do play with my father there, but you're so smart, Mr. Thinkpants,” and they went into the living room, and she said “Would you like something to drink? My father has a liquor cabinet stuffed with things, and they won't be home till past midnight, so I'll have plenty of time to wash your glass out and put water in whatever bottle you choose so it doesn't seem poured from,” and he said “Boy, did I once say we were suited?—even down to our fathers. Mine's also a cheapskate with his booze,” and she said “It's not that; he doesn't like the boys dating me getting tipsy on his whiskey and then getting frisky with me—it's like giving them a gun to shoot me, he's said, Freud not intended,” and he said “I know Freud but not what he says, except for that double-meaning thing. But sure, I'll have something hard—what's he got?” and she said “He likes scotch, so probably lots of scotches,” and he said “That's for old men, not that your father's old, but you know     do you have anything else? Canadian Club, that Royal something . a good rye?” and she looked and he drank two highballs and she had one but hardly touched it and they talked about their parents and people they'd dated and where they both were on several historical occasions to see if their paths had ever crossed—he was walking to school on D-Day when he'd heard about it, her parents told her about it at breakfast and “then went into almost like a history lesson as to what it meant”; he was in summer camp in New Jersey when World War Two ended; she was lying in a hammock at a friend's summer cottage near Peekskill when she first learned of it, “Peekskill,” he said, “my folks took a bungalow there for a month when I was four or five,” and she said “That was the only time I was near there—her family felt sorry I had to spend the summer in the city”; Roosevelt's death: they both walked into their apartments to find people crying and the radio blaring, but in different boroughs; Stalin's: he found out from newspaper headlines on a newsstand in the Garment Center (“Corner of 36th or 37th and Eighth Avenue to be exact”) when he was delivering belts for a belt company, she was a block or two away between Seventh and Eighth and maybe around the same hour—it was after school—applying for a showroom modeling job with a coat and suit house—and he touched her hand, said “This little piggy—ah, that's silly, isn't it?” and felt himself getting high and said “Drink all yours down, catch up with me—or as you might say: ‘Drink all yours down and catch down with me,' though that makes no sense, and no sense is good sense—nah, that makes no sense too. But I'm about twice your weight or a little less, so two of mine is one of yours, and you gotta be equal and fair,” and she finished her drink and said “I believe you're trying to compromise me through the use of my father's booze, just as he said,” and he said “That's right, I'd never lie to you,” and she said “That's a lie, the last part,” and he said “Oh, so what,” and smiled and she did and squeezed his hand and he moved closer and said “Now I'm going to be piggy,” and she said “We'll see—better than wolf, I guess, but that's a bad pun,” and he thought “Pun”? What's she mean?, and she moved closer—he let her; he could have moved even closer than he was when he first started to but wanted to see if he moved a little closer whether she would too—and she put her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes and looked so satisfied and peaceful that for a moment he thought he should leave her like that—they were sitting on the couch—but he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and said in a fake European accent he'd heard in a few movies “Mine darlink,” and kissed her and she kissed back and they kissed and while they were kissing with their eyes closed he touched her breast through her blouse and she pulled her head away and said “I don't know if I want you touching me there,” and he said “Then where can I?” and she said “I don't think anywhere,” and he said “You let me touch your tushie last time and now you're sitting on it so I can't,” and she said “If you did touch my behind then I didn't feel it so I wasn't aware you were touching it,” and he said “Come off it, you don't lie, I don't lie,” and she said “So maybe I did feel it but I thought that was a love tap you were doing,” and he said “No, a sex tap,” and she said
“Touche',”
and he said “Yes,
mucho toucheé
, if what I know of the word's right,
mucho
tushie
touché,”
and she said “Too much
toucheé
, but what I meant by ‘love' was ‘playful'—you were fooling around—
kidding
—and I let you because I thought it was harmless,” and he said “Oh brother, was I fooling around and harmless,” and she said “Don't suddenly get immature,” and he said “Sorry, lady,” and slid over to the end of the couch and looked at his feet and pouted and she said “What's wrong now?” and still looking at his feet he said “You know, darnit,” and she said “Are you trying to manipulate me again?” and he said “I know what manual labor is,” and she said “What's that supposed to mean?” and he said “It isn't the name of a Mexican worker,” and she said “You sound stupid now—excuse me: just a touch silly then, for I hate that, when an intelligent sensible man intentionally acts dumb, as much as I hate an operator,” and he looked at her and smiled and said “Okay, I'm wrong, I admit it, I'm sorry, very sorry, if I could apologize a hundred times without sounding redundant, I'd do it,” and she smiled and he slid over to her and said “But you know, getting back to the other subject, we do know each other,” and she said “We hardly do—three times plus when we first met and before that seeing each other on campus,” and he said “You know me now, all about me, my ups and downs, my bads and goods, my bumps and humps—no, not that,” and she said “Great time for puns,” and he said “You used that word before, and now you'll see how honest and stupid I am—I mean, when you weren't looking I could have written it down and looked it up later—but what's a pun?” and she gave her definition of it and he said “How come I didn't know it?” and she said “Some people know, others do—that's a pun, almost, but more just a joke,” and he said “And funny, but anyway, to end what I was saying about knowing me, you do, and I feel I know you, and I really like you,” and she said “And I like you,” and he said “Then, settled?” and she said “To an extent,” and he said “Good,” and they kissed and after about a minute of kissing he touched her breast and kept his hand there and after another minute of kissing he started unbuttoning her blouse and she tried to rebutton it and he pulled her hand away and unbuttoned the rest and rubbed her nipple with his finger and then unhooked her bra, all while they were kissing, and pulled her bra up and got her breast out from under her blouse and kissed it and while he was kissing it in different places he put her hand on his pants where his penis was and she squeezed it once and moved her hand away and he said “Come on, please, just a little more,” and put her hand back and she squeezed it a few times and then left her hand on top of it and he unzipped his fly and pulled his penis out and put her hand around it and she began jerking it and then faster and he said “Easy, not so hard, I'll mess up the couch,” and she said “We should stop, then, my parents will see the stain and they'll know what it is and go crazy,” and he said “Wait a second, I've an idea,” and kissed her and put his hand up her skirt and scratched her hair through the panties and then curled his pinky underneath the panties and felt around and got the tip of it inside her vagina and while they were kissing and two of his fingers were inside her vagina he stretched his other hand to the side table lamp behind her and she said “What are you doing?” still jerking his penis and he said “Shutting the light or making it lower—does it have two bulbs?” and she said “That one, three,” and he said “I'll shut off two, all right?—it's hurting my eyes,” and she said “Why? Your eyes are mostly closed,” and he said “It still comes through, or it's just nicer all around that way, softer,” and felt around the socket for a switch but felt light chains and pulled two of them and the room went dark and she said “Why'd you turn them all off?” and he said “I only pulled two, so that must have been all that was on,” and she said “Oh well, now you don't have to look at me,” and he said “Yeah, very tough to do, looking at you—you're a beauty,” and she said “Sure,” and he said “You are, you are—kees me, you chrazy mixed-up beauty,” and kissed her and she pushed his face away and said “What do I do if the phone rings?” and he said “I don't know—where's the phone? You can't find it in the dark?” and she said “I mean, do I answer it?” and he said “No-o-o,” and started pulling her panties down and she said “Suppose it was something important?” and he said “How could it be? Your parents are out. Why don't I just take it off the hook—where is it?” and she said “There's one in the kitchen,” and he said “Ah, let's just let it ring,” and pulled her panties down farther and she didn't stop him and he pulled them off and felt her legs and behind and inside her behind and she said “Not that place, it could be dirty,” and he said “It isn't dirty—it's part of fooling around when you're doing it,” and she said “Dirty as in feces, okay?” and he said “I understand,” and felt her legs around her crotch and her hair there and started pulling his pants off and she said “What are you doing?” and he said “My pants, off, they're uncomfortable, the belt buckle thing's sticking me,” and thought Say “Help me, will you?” and said “Help me with them, will ya please?” and she said “I'm not sure,” and he said “Don't worry, anything you don't want to do, we won't—we can just stay close to each other, rubbing and hugging but that's all,” and felt her vagina and inside it and she jerked him back and forth and they were kissing and then he pulled off his pants and then shorts and shirt off and her blouse off and bra from around her arm where it was hanging and he said “Our shoes and socks,” and he pulled their shoes off and his socks for she didn't have anything like that on and then he was on top of her and she said “I don't know if we should continue, this could be dangerous. Suppose my folks come back early and we do mess up the couch?” and he said “Why would they and if you want I can put my hanky or something under you or we can go to a bed,” and she said “No bed,” and he said “Then here, we won't be messy and nothing might come of it,” and she said “One of them could get sick—my mother, one drink, and they drink a lot at those dinner affairs,” and he said “Is that where they went?—where, way downtown?” feeling her body all around, and she said “Some political club event—once a year, I think it's at a big midtown hotel, with lots of speeches. They never miss it and she's a terrible drinker if they don't serve her lots of appetizers before; my father can hold his though,” and he said “Don't worry, they left, what, an hour ago?—so they're just starting, and we can do anything, if we do it, quickly,” and she said “I don't want to do it any kind of way,” and he said “Have you ever?” and she said “Once, with a guy I liked, a few times, when I was much younger—it was a big mistake. And you?” and he said “Yes, but I have to admit it, only with women I paid—I don't like that, I'm sorry,” and she said “That's all right,” and he said “So what do you think?” and she said “I really don't think we should,” and he said “Okay,” and kissed her neck and face and breasts and belly and said “I think we should,” and vagina and stuck his tongue in and turned his body around, and she said “I've never done this—I didn't with the other guy, though he wanted me to,” and he said “Just try, if it's no good, not something you like, don't then, really,” and she did and continued to and he did and then he felt himself coming and pushed her face away and said “You don't want to be swallowing the stuff, do you?” and she said “No, never, though I think I tasted it now,” and he turned around again and kissed her and put his tongue in her mouth because he thought she'd wanted to be kissed like that after, for that would make her think he didn't think her mouth was dirty from doing it, and then he tried putting his penis in her and she said “The whole thing doesn't feel good like this, the couch isn't wide enough and my shoulder's pressed—let's get on the floor,” and he thought “Good, it's done, I'm in,” and said “Why not your room?” and she said “The floor's easier,” and he said “How could it be?—the bed's softer,” and she said “My room's a mess,” and he said “Who cares about that?” and she said “I just don't want us to be there, I share it with my sister when she cornes home from college, and this is a good thick carpet and please don't argue,” and he said “Okay,” because she just might get so upset at him that she'd stop now and they got on the floor and she got on her back and spread her legs and patted her thighs, he saw all this from the light in the kitchen, and said “I'm not wearing anything, I haven't got one yet, did you bring something?” and he said yes and got up to get his wallet out of his pants and she said “Actually, I've already started my period a little, if you don't mind that—I never should have let you do what you did,” and he said “By the way, when I said I had one, it wasn't for this time particularly, I just happen to have it in my wallet for a while—and before, when you shouldn't have let me do what I did, did you mean with my mouth?” and it seemed she was nodding and he said “You're nodding?” and she said yes, and he said “I didn't taste anything unusual, so maybe it had stopped before I was there—but you sure you can't get pregnant by us doing this without anything?” and she said “Positive, it's biologically impossible, though if you want to put on something, just to be extra safe, go ahead,” and he said he'd rather not and got down on the floor and inside her and flattened himself on top and she said “That can't be the way, I'm not the most experienced at it, but what you're doing would squash anyone,” and he said “Sorry,” and raised his rear a little and after a few moves by both of them, came. They did it again a short time later and then almost every weekend someplace, sometimes both weekend nights and occasionally on a weekday, when his parents weren't home, hers, couple of times at the apartment of a friend of hers when the friend's parents were out and she left them alone for an hour, and used condoms for a while and then a diaphragm when she got fitted for one or didn't use anything around the time of her period and sometimes right at the height of it—he didn't really like to do it then, all the blood on him after and the thought of her bleeding while they were doing it, the slippery stuff not so much theirs but her blood, but it didn't seem to bother her much, she'd just pull the tampon out and roll it in a tissue or napkin and drop it on the floor and once even said, lying back flat on the bed, “Why don't you do the honors this time—it's only a little string,” and he told her lots of times he loved her though he only liked her a lot but loved making love with her and just knowing he had someone steady to make love with and that his friends knew, that was important too, and she said she loved him more than she had anyone before, “even if there haven't been that many guys in my life I felt deeply about: two, you're the third, and one of those two when I was so young I never let him touch me or do anything but kiss, but that was exciting enough then,” and they met on campus the days they both had classes and had lunch there and sat outside when it was nice and talked and sometimes she took the subway downtown with him when he had to go to work after school, just to be another hour with him, she said. He wished he could really love her and felt bad and troubled that he didn't and sometimes thought he was wasting his time going with someone and doing such serious things with her whom he didn't think he'd ever love so much as to say it

Other books

Made to Love by Medina, Heidi
Mr. Timothy: A Novel by Louis Bayard
The Venetian Affair by Helen MacInnes
Gilbert Morris by The Angel of Bastogne
Monday Night Jihad by Elam, Jason & Yohn, Steve