Chapter 12
The rest of Monday, all of Tuesday, and the full sunlit hours of Wednesday were bad ones for Deedee. Over and over again, she tried to think of some way in which to stop the ugliness that was set to begin Wednesday evening. And over and over again, she was forced to give it up as a hopeless project.
By the time she returned home Wednesday, she was ready for nothing more than a light dinner, a good book, and more than the ordinary amount of sleeping pills. Maybe a miracle will happen, she told herself. She had just finished a rather skimpy, unenjoyed dinner, when the telephone rang. She was deadly tired, still praying for an "out" to the situation. Tomorrows, she thought, are becoming more and more difficult to face.
She let the water run, churning up the soap suds into a somewhat modern semblance of a fluffy cloud, as she listened to the phone. It didn't stop ringing. With a deep sigh, she turned the water off, walked into the living room to answer the call. Only then, did of occur to her that this call shouldn't have come in on this number. It was Ralph, of course. Ralph Colman.
"Deedee? We'll pick you up tonight, about eight o'clock. Okay?"
"Oh." She thought for a moment. "Then you really meant what you said Monday? You're really intending to go through with this-this-oh, Ralph...."
He laughed shortly, bitterly. "You are ever-loving damned right I meant it. Kicks are what count-to you, and just about everybody else, aren't they, Deedee? And you're going through with this, war bride. Twenty bucks on the line. The discount pays for old friendship, remember? You just take very good care of me and my good buddy, Bill Coberly. Good care of us tonight! It's that or, you can believe me, Dee, I'll smash you. I'll wreck you. Be in front of your apartment or don't be at school tomorrow. Eight o'clock." He hung up.
Blindly, Deedee replaced the receiver. One more step, she thought dully. One more step in the wrong direction-like down. She went back to the kitchen, finished the few dishes left from her skimpy dinner and tried not to think.
Promptly at eight-showered, perfumed, and deliberately wearing a cashmere sweater, pleated skirt and single strand of pearls (plus having had a few drinks of bourbon inside her for fortification against the humiliating experience in line for tonight)-Deedee closed the door of her apartment and walked out front to wait. The customers for this ugly evening roared around the corner in Ralph Colman's convertible, top down, radio at full blast, pulled up and made a screeching stop. Ralph got out, ran around the curb side, opened the door and bowed gallantry. The smile on his face, however, seemed slightly twisted to Deedee. "Your carriage awaits, madame." Both his stance and his voice were bitterly mocking.
Coberly, Ralph's buddy and fraternity brother, licked his lips in anticipatory appraisal. He slid out,, and indicated that Deedee should get in the front seat between both of them.
He and Deedee made some rather desultory small talk as Ralph drove to a nearby bar. He had nothing to say. His silence seemed to infect his friend, and by the time they parked and went into the place, no one was talking. For the next few drinks, the only words spoken amongst them were the orders given to the bartender. Suddenly, Deedee felt Bill's hand caressing her thigh. It seemed completely impersonal to her, as if she were standing at one side of the bar and watching a rather vulgar couple. It was, she decided, the effects of the drinks she'd had. She became impatient. Let's, she thought to herself, have done with this stupid charade, this blithering mess of nothingness. Oh hell, she thought, trying to hear herself out of the mood, it's a typically undergraduate bit, and I've gone way past it. I want it over and done with. And now!
"Shall we cut out of here and make the scene, men?" she asked, breaking the prolonged silence.
Coberly licked his lips again. "Well, now, little dolly. I'm all for that. Great idea. How about you, Ralph, old buddy?"
Ralph finished his drink in one gulp. "Yeah, Bill. Yeah, sure." He seemed somewhat less than enthused.
The trio left the bar and headed back to the convertible. Ralph made an illegal turn in the middle of the block, and headed his car in the direction of a suburban area, rather well known for its many unrestricted motels. As they drove, Bill put his arm around Deedee's shoulder and began to whisper into her ear. He whispered obscenities concerned with what he was going to do to her, and what he wanted her to do to him. She leaned against him provocatively, but heard hardly a word he was saying. The bourbon, she thought, is working just fine. Thank God for booze, she added-a final Amen. The great pacifier. The great anesthesia. Give little Deedee enough booze and she won't feel anything. Nothing will hurt her, nothing will cut the inner part of her-that part that you buried way down deep, to keep the world away. All this other-everything-was all nothing. This friend of a friend of hers (and Deedee giggled unconsciously) was nothing but a dirty little boy, spilling his dirty sex on her. But he wasn't important. Perhaps a momentary annoyance, a small discomfort. But not important, really.
Nothing, and she tried to hold back the hot tears, nothing really like Pat. Not like the times with-the tears began to scald her eyes. She tossed her head defiantly into the windstream, letting the cool breeze dry her traitorous eyes. Think of the baby, she told herself. Think of Maria. Think of the reason you're doing this. It's more reason than these bastards have. It isn't enough to excuse it, but it's better than no reason at all!
They pulled up in front of a fairly isolated motel.
"I see you know how to find the hot blanket, joints," Bill said laughing. "They turn these beds over three, four times a night. And they never ask any questions. Let me register, Ralph. I've never made this scene before. Mr. and Mrs. Coberly, and their son, Ralph. Now, how's that grab ya'?" He laughed again, and the bubbles showing unpleasantly around his mouth reminded Deedee of Junior. "Man, this is gonna be a ball! You said no holds barred, remember? Me, I got some great ideas!" He jumped from the car, went up and rang the bell marked "manager."
While Coberly was gone, Ralph turned to Deedee. He swallowed, started to say something, then changed his mind. She was aware of his discomfort, but only vaguely. The bourbon was close to taking over completely, and she didn't give a damn for anything. She began to hum a tuneless song under her breath.
Finally, Ralph cleared his throat again. "Sure you want to go through with this, Deedee?"
She was just sober enough to realize, at that point, that she didn't have to go through with it if she didn't want to, but she felt a strange need to shame this ex-friend who'd done such a good job of shaming her.
"What's the difference, Ralph? Two guys tonight, twenty tomorrow night. It's all the same. As long as I get paid, it's all the same. Speaking of which, I believe you said twenty? Give." She wriggeld her fingers, laughing inwardly at his obvious discomfort.
Blushing, he reached for his wallet, handed her two ten-dollar bills. She glanced at them carelessly before she thrust them into her purse. "That's better. Now, I'm all yours. Doesn't that give you a great big kick? Here you just bought and paid for little old Deedee's lily-white body. Who's going first, you or your boy friend?"
Colman made a retching sound in his throat. "Look, Deedee. I said you don't have to go through with it. The hell with it. We can just turn the car around and go home. I don't know what's been the matter with me. I guess I went off my rocker when I saw you the other night. That's all I can think of."
"But aren't you forgetting your fraternity brother?" she asked, wickedly. "After all, Bill trusted you. He believed in you, and he's in there right now looking forward to a big night with a call girl-one he can tell all the other frat boys about. That's good advertising in my trade, you know."
"Then you intend to go through with this?"
Now, perversely, she was determined. "Yes. Of course I am. You named my fee, you paid it. You also stated your conditions. And you told me what the penalty would be, just in case I refused. Now, who's going first, Ralph-you or Coberly? Or are you going to watch each other? I almost forgot, you're kind of a voyeur, aren't you?"
"Deedee, I swear I thought that was just a double date. Anyhow, that's what the rat-bastard told me. And I'm not going to do anything with you tonight. Forget it. I'm sorry I started this dirty mess."
She unsnapped her purse. "Oh? Well, then, you'd better take back ten dollars of this. If you're going to 'pimp' for me, you sure don't have to spend your own money. I'm supposed to pay you, you know, for fixing me up with dates."
He thrust the ten dollars angrily into his pocket.
Coberly was returning to the car, waving a key triumphantly, and grinning. "You are going to pimp for me, aren't you, Ralphie?" Her whisper was vicious. "Because if you don't get me some good action off the campus, I'll swear you are setting up the deals for me. I'll swear it to the kids, and I'll swear it to the dean. I'll spread the word all over Blue Harbour. So get busy, sweet daddy. I'll cut you in for a good piece of the action-if you play your cards right!"
She opened the door, swung out, looked down at him and laughed. His face was angry, flushed, set.
"Hey, baby," Coberly greeted her, taking her by the arm. "Let's go swing. Ralphie, boy, coming along? Or you gonna' wait?"
Deedee laughed again, walking away with Bill. "He won't be in tonight. He's got a bad case of the guilties."
"Guilties? Hell, I ain't had a dose of them since I was about ten!"
They entered the motel room together. Ralph climbed out of his car and vomited.
Ralph didn't talk about that night, but Bill Coberly did. Within the matter of days Deedee found herself with more action than she could hope to handle. Religiously, she called Ralph before turning each trick, and asked him if she knew the student. Ralph almost always hung up in angered frustration. Just as religiously, Deedee would send him twenty-five per cent of her earnings, along with a detailed report of her activities. Where, with whom, how long, action involved, and payment received.
When Ralph failed to return the money it gave Deedee a kind of grim satisfaction.
She wasn't prepared, however, for the coolness which suddenly greeted her everywhere on the campus. Of course, she thought. I should have realized the story's too good for these punks to keep to themselves. Speedily, the situation became worse than it had ever been at the Edith Pyne Seminary.
Nor was she prepared for the visit Ralph paid her on the following Tuesday. Unannounced, he arrived at her apartment, the hideaway she shared with Jim Bradley. She didn't want to let him in, but could see no way of getting around it. As she admitted him, he coolly surveyed the living room. "Pretty lush setup," he said. "So this is what the wages of sin look like."
Deedee poured herself a drink, lit a cigarette and peered at him through narrowed eyes. "You've made your little observation," she said coldly. "Now, if you have anything else on your mind, let's have it. Then you can get the hell out of here."
Ralph grinned crookedly, sat down without an invitation. "Pretty rough for you on the campus now, isn't it?"
Deedee nodded, not speaking.
"Yeah. It's got to reach the dean sooner or later. Ever think of that?"
Deedee flushed. "You didn't come up here today to bring me fresh news. You've got some kind of an angle. What is it?"
Ralph settled back comfortably, crossing his legs. "Aren't you going to offer me a drink?"
"Let's hear the pitch, buster. Forget the drink."
"Oh? All right. I won't pretend the-the tokens of your esteem you've been sending me from day to day haven't been quite helpful. They have been. I like the feel of money, Deedee."
"That figures."
He refused to let her make him angry. "So. If you get tossed off campus, or if it gets so bad the boys can't afford to be seen with you-well, bang goes my extra income, and bang goes all of yours. So, I've got an idea which can help us both."
"Oh?" She tried to conceal an interest she couldn't help feeling.
"Sure." He leaned forward, earnestly. "See, I'll pin you. That means we're engaged, at least semi-officially. Okay. We won't be able to stand much action on campus, probably none at all. But there are a hell of a lot of conventions in this town, baby, and I hear those guys are big spenders. Junior tells me they go for fifty, a hundred bucks a session. Sometimes, even more. I got plenty of spare time, now that I don't have to work nights, see? I can hit the hotels, grease up a few bell captains and night room-clerks. Baby, we can double or triple our income."
Deedee looked at him without expression. Without expression, she started to speak. "I was trying to shame you when I sent you those few lousy bucks. I had thought of you as a friend, and I was trying to make you see how wrong you were about things. But I can see it didn't work. You're really a pimp at heart, Ralphie-boy. Well, pimp, I don't need you. I've got all the connections I need, and you're a little out of your depth.
"Want me to tell you something, pimp? Every trick I went out with, I told him that part of my earnings went to you-that you were pimping for me. I don't suppose you've heard that, yet. You will, don't worry-when they ask you to resign from the frat. You see, along with a few extra bucks, you've also picked up a stinking reputation. Ask around, see if I'm lying."
Ralph got to his feet, white-faced in anger. "Why, you cheap little whore. You'd dare to-to-"
"To tell the truth about you? Sure. God knows I haven't any reputation left. Why should you? I did all the dirty work, you know. You just sat back and collected. What are your plans now? Beat me up? Go ahead. Try it. You mark me up so I can't work, and a few of my friends in totim won't like it very much. You won't be able to have much fun with a couple of broken legs!" It was a lie, but he was forced to believe her.
"Deedee, I-"
She opened the door. "Out, pimp. You four-bit punk. You're not even a good pimp!"
"But, Deedee-"
"Out!" She held the door as he half stumbled into the hall, then she slammed it on his retreating figure. To her surprise, she found she was trembling. She called Sandy, just to have someone to talk to while she tried to calm herself.
"Got a real live one tonight, Dee. Want in on it?"
"No, Sandy, but thanks. Jim's coming home tomorrow night and I want to be fresh this trip. I almost got nailed last time, remember?"
"Do I ever? It was Stonesville that night. Well, give me a call when you can get back in action."
Deedee tried to watch television but her thoughts kept getting in the way. What kind of a mess had she gotten into? She felt as if she were in quicksand, slowly being sucked under. She drank several more drinks, took a pair of sleeping pills, but neither sleep nor rest would come to her. She tossed fitfully all night, finally dropping off into an uneasy slumber, just before daylight. The alarm woke her two hours later, and she dragged her way to the shower. She felt as if she'd just run the four-minute mile.