I spit on your graves (9 page)

"You're talking in riddles," I said. "Just what do you mean?"

She now lowered not only her eyes but her head as well. She was quite a lot smaller than I am. She had a big white carnation in her hair. She finally said:

"You know very well what I mean.

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What you did to me, the other day, on the sofa."

"So..."

"Do you do that to all the women you meet?"

I laughed out loud until she pinched my arm.

"Don't make fun of me, I'm not a baby."

"Certainly not."

"Well answer me!"

"No," I said, "I don't do that to all the women. Frankly, there aren't too many women you feel like doing it to."

"You're joking again. After all, I could see the way your friends acted."

"They're not real friends, just chums."

"Don't quibble," she said. "Is that what^ you do then to all your... chums?"

"Do you really think I'd feel like doing that with girls like that?"

"I think..." she murmured, "that at certain times you can do all sorts of things with all sorts of people."

I decided I ought to take advantage of that statement to hold her even a bit tighter than before. At the same time, I tried to caress her breast. I had beat the gun the gun again. She broke out of my clasp slowly but firmly.

"You know, the other day, I had been

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drinking," she stated.

"I don't believe it," I replied.

"Oh, - do you really think I would have let you do that if I hadn't been drinking?"

"Of course."

She lowered her head again, and then lifted it to say to me.

"You don't think I would have danced with just anybody?"

"I'm just anybody."

"You know very well you aren't."

I don't think I'd ever had such an up and down conversation. She slipped out of your fingers like an eel. For a moment you thought she'd go all the way, and then she'd suddenly back up at the least touch. I didn't give up though.

"What's so special about me?"

"1 don't know. You're alright physically, but it isn't that. Your voice, maybe."

"Maybe what?"

"It isn't just an ordinary voice."

I again laughed heartily.

"No, she insisted, "It's a deeper voice, and more... I don't know just how to describe it... more serene, steady."

"That comes from singing and playing the guitar."

"No," she said, "I've never heard singers

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or guitarists with a voice like yours. I have heard a voice that yours reminds me of, yes, it was back in Haiti. Some black men."

"Well, that's really a compliment." I said. "They're just about the best musicians you can find."

"Oh don't talk nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. They're the source of all American music," I said.

"I don't think so. All the big dance orchestras are whites."

"Of course-the whites are in a better position to exploit the Negro's inventions."

"I just don't think you're right."

"All the great popular composers are colored. Like Duke Ellington, for example."

"What about Gershwin, Kern, and all ^ of those."

"They're all immigrants from Europe," I said: "They're the ones best able to envelop it. But I don't think you'd find a single original passage anywhere in Gershwin's work- one that hasn't been copied or plagiarized. Just try and find one in the Rhapsody in Blue, for example."

"You're funny,' she said. "I just hate the colored race."

That was just too wonderful. I thought of Tom, and I was almost ready to thank the

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Lord. But I was too hot after that girl to be able to get mad at that moment. And I didn't need the Lord's help to do a good job.

"You're just like everybody else," I said. "You like to brag about things that everybody else but you discovered."

"I don't see just what you mean.'

"You ought to travel," I said. "You know, it wasn't just the white Americans all by themselves who invented the movies, the automobile, or nylon stockings, or horse-racing. Or jazz."

"Let's talk about something else," Lou said. "You read too much, I guess."

They were still at their bridge game on the table to a side, and I saw that I wouldn't get anywhere unless I made her drink something. I couldn't give up that easy.

"Dex told me about your rum," I went on. "Is it a myth, or can ordinary mortals have some?"

"Of course you can have some," Lou said. "I should have realized you'd be thirsty."

I let her go and she went off towards a sort of salon bar.

"Mix 'em?" she inquired. "White and caramel?"

"O.K., mix' em. Perhaps you could add some orange juice. I'm dying of thirst."

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"Easy as pie," she said.

The bridge-players at the other end of the room cried out to us loudly.

"Hey, Lou! Make some for everybody."

"Alright," she said, "but you'll have to come and get it."

I just loved to watch her bend forward. She was wearing a sort of tight sweater which opened roundly in front, exposing part of her breasts, and her hair was now thrown to one side, as on the day I'd first seen her, but rather to the left. She had much less make-up on, and looked good enough to eat.

"You're a very beautiful girl," I said.

She straightened up, holding a bottle of rum in her hand.

"Please don't start in again."

"I'm not starting 'm continuing."

"Well then don't continue. You go much too fast. It's no fun that way."

"Things like that shouldn't last too long."

"Yes they should. Pleasant things should last forever."

"Do you know what really pleasant things are?"

"Yes. Talking to you, for example."

"But that's your pleasure. You're being selfish."

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"You're very nasty. Do you mean my conversation bores you?"

"I can't look at you without thinking that you are made for something very different than talking, and I can't talk to you without looking at you. But I'd just as well continue talking to you. That way I don't have to play bridge."

"You don't like bridge?"

She filled a glass and offered it to me. I took it and drank about half of it.

"Pretty good." I said appreciatively, looking at the glass. "And I like too the fact that you fixed it up for me."

She blushed.

"It's so nice, when you're like that."

"I assure you I can be nice in lots of other ways."

"But you have the wrong idea. You've got a good build physically and you think that that's all that any woman wants."

"Wants what?"

"Physical things."

"Those who don't want it," I asserted, "have never tried it."

"That isn't true."

"Have you ever tried?"

She didn't answer, but just wrung her fingers, and then she made up her mind.

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"What you did to me, last time..."

"Yes..."

"It wasn't very pleasant. It was... it was terrible."

"But,... it wasn't unpleasant, was it?"

"No..." she said in barely a whisper.

I didn't press my point, but just finished my drink. I'd recovered the ground I'd lost. God, what a tough time I'd have with this girl. Some fish really do put up a battle.

Jean had gotten up and came over to get the drinks.

"Do you find Lou too boring?"

"How nice you are!" said her sister.

"Lou is very charming," I said. "I like her very much. May I have the honor of asking you for her hand."

"Not while I'm alive," said Jean. "I come first."

"And what does that make me," said Lou, "an orphan?"

"You're too young," said Jean. "You've still got plenty of time. As for me..."

I laughed, since Jean hardly looked more than a couple of years older than her sister.

"Don't laugh like a big dope," Lou said. "Don't you think she looks old and withered?"

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I definitely liked both of them. And they seemed to understand each other too.

"If you don't look any worse than her when you get older," I said to Lou, "I'd be glad to marry both of you."

"You're just terrible," Jean said. "I'm going back and play bridge. You'll dance with me soon, won't you?"

"No, you won't," Lou said. "This time I'm first. Go play your nasty old cards."

We danced again for a while, but the program changed and I suggested to Lou that we take a stroll outside.

"I don't think I really want to be left alone with you," she said.

"There's nothing for you to worry about. After all, all you'd have to do is holler."

"Oh, yeah!" she objected, "and make everybody think I'm a big baby."

"Alright," I said. "In that case how about going for a drink, if you don't mind."

I went over to the bar and mixed myself a little stimulant. Lou remained where I left her.

"Like some?"

She shook her head no, closing her yellow eyes. I decided to leave her alone and I crossed the room to watch Jean's game.

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"Bring you luck," I said.

"About time, too!"

She turned easily towards me with a radiant smile.

"I'm losing about a hundred and thirty dollars. Not so nice, is it?"

"That depends on how many millions you've got left," I said.

"Shall we stop now?" she suggested. The other three players didn't seem to be especially enthusiastic about continuing, and the game broke up. As for Dexter, he'd long since taken the other girl into the garden.

"Is that all you can get?" Jean asked, pointing to the radio with a grimace of displeasure. "I'm going to try to find something else."

She turned the knobs around until she got something that could be danced to. One of the two fellows invited Lou. The other couple danced. I took Jean for a drink before we started. I knew what she needed.

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XIII

When Dex and I went up to go to bed, I'd hardly said another word to Lou after our long conversation. Our rooms were on the first floor, on the same side as the girls'. The girls' parents had rooms in the other wing. The local characters had gone home. As a matter of fact the girls' parents weren't in the other wing at all, but were in New York or in Haiti or some place like that. My room was at one end, then Dex's, then Jean's, and finally Lou's. I wasn't in exactly the best spot for my purposes.

I got undressed, took a nice shower and then rubbed myself all over with a rough towel. I heard Dexter moving around in his room. He went out and then came back a couple of minutes later, and I then heard the sound of somebody taking a drink. He must have made a little trip down to the liquor supply and I thought it wasn't a bad idea at all. I knocked lightly on the door between his bedroom and the bathroom. He came over right away.

"Say! Dex," I said through the door. "Am I dreaming or did I hear some bottles clinking?"

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"How about having one," said Dex. "I brought up a pair of them."

It was a bottle of rum. Nothing better to help you fall asleep, or to keep you awake, depending on who, when and where. I expected to keep awake, but I heard Dex go to bed pretty soon after. It affected him differently from me.

I waited a half hour and then slipped quietly out of my room. I had one pair of shorts and my pajama tops. I can't stand wearing pajama bottoms. They drive me wild.

It was dark in the corridor, but I knew where I was going. I walked forward none too cautiously, since the rug was thick enough to muffle the noise of a ball-game, and I rapped softly on Lou's door.

I heard her come over. Or rather I felt her come, and then the catch turned. I slipped into her room and softly closed the paneled door.

She had on a stunning white dressing-gown which she must have stolen from a Varga girl. I could also see that she had on a lacy brassiere and a set of panties to match.

"I came to see if you're still mad at me," I said.

"You can't stay here," she objected.

"Why did you answer the door then?

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Who did you think it was?"

"I don't know, - Susie I guess."

"Susie's sleeping. And so are all the other servants. You know that as well as I do."

"Just what do you want?"

"Just this."

I caught her in my arms and kissed her with all I had. I have no idea what my left hand was doing then. But she fought back and I caught on my left ear one of the best socks I've ever caught in my time. I let her go.

"You're a brute," she said.

Her hair was done up in the usual way, loosely, and parted in the center, and she looked just delicious. I kept myself calm, however. The rum helped me.

"You're making too much noise," I answered. "Jean'll hear you."

"There's a bathroom between our two rooms."

"Oh! Fine!"

I went at her again and opened up her night-gown. I managed to tear at her panties before she could hit me again. Then I caught her wrist and held her hands behind her back. She rested easily in the hollow of my right palm. She fought without a sound but with all her anger. She tried to butt me with her knees, but I slipped my left hand around the small of

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her back and pressed her tight against me. She tried to bite me through my pajamas. I couldn't get my damn shorts off. I suddenly let her go and pushed her towards her bed,

"Well," I said, "you've put on a pretty good show, but I'll be damned if I'm going to wear myself out for nothing at all."

She looked as though she were going to cry, but her eyes shone with anger too. She didn't even try to cover herself, and I got an eyeful. She had a thick black muff, shiny like astrakhan fur.

I just turned my back to her and went to the door.

"Sleep well," I said. "Pardon me for the slight damage I've done to your underwear. I don't dare suggest that I buy you a new set, but I assure you will send me the bill."