Chapter 2
The most important thing in the world to Noel Traubert was her mother. She loved her with a fierce loyalty. She was even protective toward her. She idolized her and she idealized her, probably without being aware of it. She thought her mother was beautiful. Most other people wouldn't have agreed. She thought of her mother as a kind, gentle soul, and at times she was. She thought her mother was wise, intelligent; she might have been average. Noel tried never to be a problem.
Her mother's full name was Fanny Helen Wilson Traubert Eberling. The last three names were the names of her husbands. Her first husband had died when he was very young. Her second husband, Frank Traubert, had been Noel's father, but he had dropped out of sight years ago. Noel couldn't remember him but she hated him. Fan's third and current husband was Bill Eberling. Noel didn't like him but Fan did, and that was what counted.
After Frank Traubert ran away, Fan had gone to work, and for a long time there had been no men in her life. How long this period had gone on Noel didn't know. At first she had been very young, and, to a certain extent, unaware of the problems of living. Then, for a number of years, there had been a series of men who seemed to move in and out of her mother's life. Some had stayed with them briefly, but Noel always thought of them as friends. She didn't search for a deeper relationship.
Bill Traubert had come into their lives about four years ago. At that time Noel had been twelve and worldly wise, not through experience but through talk. No matter where you live, these days, you learn about the birds and the bees while you are quite young. When Bill Traubert had started coming to see Fan, Noel hadn't worried. In the past, men had come and gone, and none had stayed around very long. But Bill was more persistent. Sometimes he would stay quite late. Eventually he started spending the nights in her mother's room. She hated him in those days. She could try to deceive herself about what happened in her mother's room, but not successfully. Finally, when Fan said that she and Bill Traubert were getting married, she was radiantly pleased. This wiped out the taint of shame and evil. Marriage would make everything fine.
Of course it added Bill to the household as a permanent member of the group, and she didn't like that. But for Fan, she would go along with it. For Fan she would do anything.
During the next four years, Bill and her mother fought sometimes, but then most married couples did that. Bill worked as a carpenter, but only when his back permitted. He made good money when he worked, but this was only on occasion. The rest of the time he spent sleeping. Or in the afternoon he might meet some of the boys in one of the taverns. He might come home drunk, and broke. Or he might come home drunk, with a pocket full of money.
Fan didn't mind. When she came home from work she sometimes drank too much too.
When Bill drank too much, Noel despised him. She thought him weak and lazy. When her mother drank too much she could understand the reason. Fan carried the burden of supporting the family. She wasn't strong to begin with and she worked terribly hard. It was reasonable that she needed to drink.
Early that summer Bill had disappeared for five days, and for Noel, those were the most difficult days she could remember. Fan went to pieces. She drank, she did a lot of crying, a lot of ranting. One man had deserted her. She couldn't take it if another man did. She loved Bill Eberling. She would die if he didn't come back.
Noel believed her whole-heartedly. A person who could have been more objective might have said that Fan's pride was more involved than any sense of love. But Noel would never be able to be objective about her mother. If her mother said she loved Bill, then this was true. If she said she had to have him back, that was true.
He did come back. He had been in jail on a charge of vagrancy. A friend got him out. He hadn't given his true name and he hadn't tried to get in touch with Fan because he wanted to protect her from any scandal.
Fan cried, and cried, and cried, and said he was the most wonderful man in the world. As she said that she was curled up in his arms, not looking at his face. Bill, himself, was looking at Noel. She was in shorts and a halter and he could see a lot of her. His eyes made Noel uneasy, and she left the room.
She was trying awfully hard to believe in Bill. She was trying to see him as Fan did.
He was a big man, big everywhere. He was heavy, his shoulders were wide, his arms were well muscled. His face was ruddy and he had black, curly hair and thick brows. He had full lips and a flattened nose. He wasn't at all handsome but Fan said he was.
It's funny. Sometimes there is a factor in a situat- [text was missing in original pocketbook]
Just lying on the bed, nude and motionless, she gradually cooled down. It was still light outside but the sun was down and in a little while the evening breeze would come up. She would dress and go out pretty soon. She didn't have anywhere to go but that wasn't important. She would run into some of the gang in front of the drug store, someone to talk to. That would eat up the evening.
She heard a sound at the door, the sound of the door opening, and she opened her eyes and sat up. Then she gasped and grabbed for something to cover herself. Bill was at the door. No, he wasn't at the door. He had come in, closed the door, and was heading her way, Was almost to her. She had never seen him move any faster.
She had part of the sheet across her body and she cried out. Before she could cry out again, Bill hit her with his words.
"I wouldn't do that, kid," he was saying. "I wouldn't raise any ruckus. Suppose the neighbors hear you and come bustin' in? How's your maw gonna take that?"
She held the sheet in front of her, shoulder high, and she asked, "What do you mean?"
"I just mean Fan'll take it hard. She really will. If she finds I was in here I don't know who she'll blame. Maybe she'll kick me out, and that will hurt her. Or maybe she'll never trust you again in your life."
He was using a lot of words, putting them together to mean something. But he hadn't needed all that. She knew her mother. Fan was in love with Bill and Fan loved her. At least she thought she did. Fan had two things in life: Bill and her daughter. She would not want to lose either one.
"What do you want?" Noel asked. the way. Let's see what you can do."
They had a small kitchen. Noel had hoped he would leave her alone, but he didn't. He took a chair back in the corner and sat there while she worked. He drank two cans of beer during the next half hour and kept watching her as Noel got more and more uneasy, more uneasy. She didn't like him watching her.
She made spaghetti and meat balls and set up a small salad and two delicate portions of cold mashed potatoes. There was some French bread in the bread-box and she buttered several slices and added garlic salt, and warmed the bread in the oven. She had made a good meal but Bill didn't say much about it. He ate a lot of it, however, and then left her to clean up the kitchen.
She was glad he had left and she didn't mind cleaning up the kitchen. She even hummed as she washed and dried the dishes. Then, when everything was done she walked to her room, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
It was hot, but then it was hot everywhere inside if you didn't have air conditioning, or some good fans. Here, they had neither. Her mother didn't earn much money. Bill did, on occasion, but not regularly enough to be of much help. So in the summers they sweltered.
Noel was wearing only panties and shorts, and a halter but in the hot room after working, she was still uncomfortable. After a momentary hesitation, she took everything off, then stretched out on the bed. She was almost sure Bill had fallen asleep. This had become a custom. He drank beer in the afternoons, then he ate a heavy meal and collapsed on his bed. He might wake up later and go out, or he might not. At any rate, she really didn't worry about him. He had never come to her room. It was foolish to think he might. ion which has been there for a long time but you overlook it. You walk around it, or you go over it, or under it. If it kicks you right in the face, you don't see it. You call it something else or you run away from it.
This was what Noel had done with respect to Bill. Until this summer he had hardly ever noticed her. He used to call her "the brat." And he didn't look at her as though she had any identity. During the past weeks, however, he had changed. He glared at her sometimes, scowled at her. He looked her up and down as he had that evening when he got back from jail. And he seemed to be doing that more and more. Noel thought that maybe he wished she wasn't around. If she wasn't around he would have more time with Fan. Or maybe his look didn't mean anything. Actually, it was hard to read a person's thoughts.
She didn't worry about him very much. She still didn't like him, but she tried to like him because he was important to Fan. Nothing else counted.
Occasionally, Fan worked at night, and about a week after Bill's return from jail Noel came home for dinner and found that Fan wasn't there. But Bill was there, prowling through the refrigerator.
He looked around at her. "Your maw won't be back until after eleven. She's got to work."
"I wish she didn't have to," Noel said.
"We can use the money," Bill said.
She might have suggested they would have more money if he worked more often, but she didn't say it. She had made it a rule not to criticize him.
"You think you could whip up something to eat?" Bill asked.
"Yes, I think I can. But you'll have to get out of the way."
His laugh wasn't pleasant. "Sure. I'll get out of-"
That was a foolish question, and she knew it. He had barged into her room and he was wearing only his shorts. Fan was away, she wouldn't return until late. Bill had been eyeing her for weeks, eyeing her as though he wanted her, and he was about to see what she was like.
She should have foreseen this situation, but she had been blind. Bill wasn't in love with Fan, or maybe he was, in his own way, but could still act like this. Some men were like that, and so were some women. Love was a rather changeable quality and had many different meanings. The important thing she had to remember was Fan-nothing else counted.
She knew what was next but she still asked, "What do you want?"
The man motioned with his arm. "You might as well drop that sheet, kid. That ain't gonna help you any. Drop the sheet an' move over."
"But, Bill...."
He shook his head. "I been watching you, kid. I been watching you for weeks. All of a sudden you're ripe. Some man's gonna take you, any day now and that might as well be me."
"But what about Fan?"
"This ain't gonna hurt Fan a bit, 'cause you ain't ever gonna tell her. Understand? You ain't ever gonna tell her."
He dropped his shorts, stepped out of them, and Noel couldn't help looking at him.
He spoke again. "Go on, move over, kid."
She moved over. If she hadn't he would have forced her. He would be doing that anyhow, but as long as she could put him off....
He had flopped down beside her, turned toward her, and he pushed away that covering sheet. Then he got up on his elbow, looked at her breasts, and laughed.
"Thought they was about like that. Coming out nice. Mighty nice. A few more months an' you'll be proud of 'em."
His hand settled over one of them, his big, rough hand. He mashed the breast down, rolled that around. He did the same with the other. After that he started pinching. Her breasts were cone-shaped and pink, and there were tiny bumps at the tops. Noel didn't like what he was doing but when he teased he gave her a tingly feeling all over.
He moved closer. He tried his kiss to her breasts and kept working. But after a time he raised his head and looked at her. "How do you like that?"
"I don't like that at all," Noel said.
"You will. I'm just starting."
"I don't think you ought to be doing this."
"Why not? You're big enough."
"But Fan-"
"She'll never know. Quit bringing Fan into this."
She closed her eyes. How could she think of anyone else? She was taking this for Fan. She was lying here, being violated, because of her love for Fan. If it hadn't been for Fan she would have been screaming, tearing the place apart.
Instead, she was submitting quietly, even though one of Bill's hands was on her, big and callous, hurting her. She knew he didn't have to. One night Chuck Wales, one of the gang, had started loving her, and his hand had been on her. But he hadn't hurt her like this. That had been exciting. What was happening now, was just plain hurting. Maybe this was because she was resisting. She tried not to resist. But that still hurt.
"You're about to get loved, kid," Bill said, and he raised his head from her breasts. "This is gonna be a real tumble. Maybe you been tumbled before, but this you'll remember."
"No, Bill," she whispered. "Please don't."
He shook his head. "Cut that out, kid. If you'd only let go you would love this. I can tell you, the finest thing in life is a good" tumble."
Let herself go! How could she, when she hated this man. She had all she could manage to endure what was happening.
He swung closer to her, and at least that calloused hand moved away. But what was happening now was much worse.
This was a moment to remember. She knew that. This might not be a pleasant memory, but she was no longer a virgin. She had been used, and that was that. Tomorrow she might look at the world with the same eyes, she might appear the same, but she would be a different person. Vastly different.
He had hurt her at first, hurt her terribly. She still hurt, but not as much as before, and something else was happening to her. There was a faint, stirring excitement, a strange feeling of pleasure.
But she didn't want that. She didn't want to enjoy what was happening. She wanted to suffer. She wanted to sacrifice. She was making a payment of her love for her mother. That was what she was doing, and nothing else.
She hung on to that idea, mentally, but her body went on and almost, got out of hand. She twisted a little, a high feeling piled up and then everything seemed to go to pieces, and the tensions slid down and she grew quiet.
Bill did too. He stretched himself beside her and he finally rolled away.
Then he turned toward her. "How was that, kid? Pretty good, huh? You can bet that was good."
She didn't say anything.
He laughed, and seemed pleased with himself. "Yep, that was a real ball. But you'll do better next time, and the next time, and the next. Before long we'll really be having fun."
She still didn't say anything but she was thinking. What is he talking about, next time and next? Does he think I'm crazy? I'll never get caught again.
He rolled toward her, put one of his hands to her breast and started acting as though that belonged to him.
"You'd better go," Noel said.
"No rush." He shook his head. "I got to work on these boobs for a while. Want to build 'em up."
Noel stiffened. She tried not to feel what he was doing.
He spoke again. "We're gonna be in luck this summer. Your maw told me she was going to work nights, whenever she can. She might be away two or three times a week, and when that happens, why I'll be lookin' after you. How do you like that?"
She took a deep breath. "You mean, whenever Fan works nights-
"Yep. That's right, kid. You're gonna get a real workout this summer. You're gonna get tumbled every way there is. We might even figure out some new ways."
She looked up at the ceiling. "Now and then I work nights, too."
"Yeah? Doing what?"
"Baby-sitting."
"You can drop that."
"I need the money."
"What money?" He shook his head. "Fan's bringing in enough money."
Tears filled her eyes. Hot, bitter tears. The life Bill was picturing for her was an impossibility. What kind of daughter was she, to go to bed with the man her mother loved? To do so knowingly, and by plan. To do so again and again. She shook her head angrily.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked suspiciously.
"I just don't like that," Noel said. "I can't do that again."
"You can't do what?"
"This-what we're doing."
"Don't know why not."
"I'm thinking of Fan. She loves you."
"Sure she does. That's what makes this perfect. She'll never guess about us, not for a minute. You just button your lip and everything will be fine."
She covered her eyes with one of her arms, and in her mind she could still hear Bill's argument. This could go on and on. Fan would never be suspicious. Why should she be? Bill was her husband and she loved him. Presumably he was in love with her.
He rolled his hands on her breasts, and he laughed and said, "Got to get work on these. Got to build 'em up. I like them when they're bigger."
He moved closer, put his head on her, and she could feel his kiss settling at one of the mounds. At first he stirred up her feelings, but after a time he began hurting her, and she didn't like that at all.
She pushed his head away. "You'd better get back to your own room. Fan sometimes gets home early."
He shook his head. "Quit your worrying. Got this other boob to worry about, don't we?"
His head went to her again.
Noel just lay there, waiting.
Fan did come home early but before then Bill was in their bedroom, and on the proper bed. Noel heard them talking but she couldn't hear what was said. Along toward morning she fell asleep but she didn't get much rest. While she had been awake she had thought, and thought, but she knew she hadn't made any sound decision. There didn't seem to be one.
The next morning she was rather silent at breakfast, but so was Fan. She seemed tired, listless. But this was another work day and she had to be on time. Bill was still asleep.
"Don't make any more noise than you have to," Fan said. "I want Bill to sleep as long as he can. His back is bothering him again."
Noel thought, No wonder. From the way he worked at me, his conscience ought to be bothering him. Then she was flooded with guilt and she looked down. She couldn't look at her mother.
"You look as though you needed more sleep, too," Fan said. "Why don't you go back to bed again?"
Back to bed, Noel thought. So I could be ready for Bill as soon as Fan leaves the apartment? Never again.
She raised her head. "I'm really not tired, Fan. Maybe I can find some work somewhere."
"Don't you worry about work," Fan said. "I can handle that. Why don't you go to the library? You used to love to read."
"I might do that," Noel said. "Or I might go to the Settlement House. I can always find something to do there. Will you be working tonight, do you know?"
"I'll be home tonight," Fan said. "But tomorrow night I might have to work. We can use the money."
Noel started straightening up the kitchen. She would be home tonight, because Fan would be here. Tomorrow night, while Fan was away, she would stay away. This was going to have to be her program for the rest of the summer. She could run away, but that would hurt Fan terribly. She couldn't do that.
There was the key to Noel Traubert. Fan was the most important thing in the world. She came first. Everything else was secondary.
She hurried in the kitchen so she could leave the apartment with Fan. That saved her from a possible encounter with Bill, who might not really be asleep. At the subway entrance, Fan left her, and from there Noel walked to the Settlement House. It was too early to go to the library. Besides, it was quite a walk to the branch library, and she was tired. Her breasts were sore too, but not so much that she was concerned. In another day, most likely, the pain would be gone.
Walking slowly along the street she thought that this was the beginning of a new era. She was no longer an innocent child. As long as she could remember she had never been very innocent, but today, definitely, she was no longer innocent.
She spent part of the morning at the Settlement House, but toward noon she headed for Peel's Drugstore where some of the gang might be hanging around. Some were, Hugo Tennyson, Chuck Wales, Mary Riley, and Debby Roth. She was glad Debby was there. She wanted to talk to her. She needed to talk to her. Debby had crossed the line a long time ago. Debby knew the score.
All four, Hugo, Chuck, Mary and Debby were having Cokes. Cokes cost ten cents. Noel didn't have much money but she decided that spending a dime was worth it, so she joined those at the counter.
Half a dozen times Hugo had gotten her into the shadows and tried to see how far he could go. He never had gotten very far. She really didn't like him. Chuck had done much better. He was the one whose hand had gone about as far as was possible and now he was sore at her, disgusted with her. He scowled at her, then looked away.
Noel ignored him and she ignored Hugo. She took a stool near Mary Riley and started talking to her. Debby was between Hugo and Chuck. She really wanted to talk to Debby, but she would arrange that when she could.
Joe Banning entered the store. He was almost one of the gang, but not really. He had a job. He worked here. That put him in a different category, at least when he worked.
He came up to Noel and said, "Couldn't make it. Tried to get back but I couldn't make it. I had two late deliveries, emergencies, and they were about a mile apart."
"That's all right," Noel said.
Up to this moment she had forgotten he had said something about going to the movies. If she had wanted to pick up the date, she should have been on the corner at about nine. Apparently he hadn't been here, but neither had she. At about nine she had been in the process of being tumbled.
She smiled crookedly. That was what Joe wanted-a bed date. That was what Chuck wanted, and Hugo. That was what any of the guys wanted-bed dates. Of course a bed date might be in some alley, or on a roof top, or in one of the deserted buildings about to be torn down or in the shrubbery in the park along the river. They didn't often make out on a bed. Debby had told her once that she had never been tumbled on a bed. "I've made out every place else," she had said. "Every place-alley to roof top. But I've never made out on a bed. Someday I'd like to."
Noel thought, I ought to send Debby to my place. She could have a bed and she could ham BUI. I never want him again.
"What about tonight?" Joe said. "Doing anything tonight?"
"I have to go home tonight," Noel said. "But tomorrow night we might go out."
"Tomorrow night then," Joe said. "That'll be better anyhow. Tomorrow's payday."
She looked at Joe thoughtfully. Tall, thin, freckled, redheaded, he was not as good looking as Chuck, but better than Hugo who looked like a beast, a brute. He was one of the tough guys of the district. She would never trust Hugo.
For that matter, who could she trust? Maybe no one.
After Joe went to the rear of the store, she turned back to Mary Riley, who said, flatly, "I think he's a creep-Joe Banning. If you want him you can have him."
"Who said I wanted him?" Noel asked.
"They're all after the same thing," Mary said. "I'm old enough to know that."
She was fourteen, but a wise fourteen. She seemed much older.
Noel finished her Coke, and paid for it, then when Debby said she had to go home, she called out, "I'll go with you. I want to talk to you."
This was nothing unusual. She and Debby sort of hung around together. They left the drug store, headed up the street, two tall, young girls, sixteen, Debby a little heavier than Noel, Debby with brown hair, Noel almost a blonde, sandy-haired.
"Where were you last night?" Debby asked.
"Around," Noel said, and she looked away. "I met a guy."
"That's easy, anywhere. Did you like him?"
"I don't know."
"Did he get you?"
"Not all the way."
Debby laughed. "I could have guessed that, but just wait. One of these guys won't stop. You got to get over the line sometime."
"I'll get over when I want to," Noel said. She looked down at the sidewalk. "Does that hurt much the first time?"
"Sure, if he's any good."
"What about the second time?"
"That's not so bad. Third time is fun if the guy's any good. That's what's important. If the guy is any good. Did I hear you making a date with Joe Banning?"
"He wants to take me to a movie."
"A movie? Yeah. I know where he wants to take you, and so do you."
"Have you ever been out with him?"
"He's never had me, if that's what you mean. I don't like him. There's something about him-I don't know what it is unless Mary tabbed it. A creep."
"He's not that bad."
"I think he is."
"At least he's got a job."
"It's not much of a job. Hugo does a lot better without a job."
"Stripping cars? The cops will get him one of these days."
"Maybe, maybe not. He's a real guy if you feel you're up to one. If I were you I'd try Chuck. He's not bad at all."
"I'm not looking for anyone," Noel said.
She had lunch at Debby's, then in the afternoon she walked to the library. She was a little less tired now. If what Debby said was true, the next time shouldn't hurt too much. And the third time-
But there would be no second time with Bill. And no third time. Tonight she would go home after Fan got home. In the morning she would leave when her mother left. Tomorrow night she would stay out with Joe Banning or by herself, because Fan would be away. She wouldn't go home until Fan returned.
This was going to be her program for the rest of the summer. Bill would never trap her again.
It seemed to her that she had said this to herself several times already. But that was all right. She was fixing this plan into her mind so it would be permanent.
Joe didn't remember until the next morning that Serena hadn't paid him for the order he had delivered. The bill had totaled eight-fifty. Serena had said she would give him ten dollars, but she must have forgotten. Possibly she had had a good reason to forget. She had been awfully active in bed and it was quite late when he left. It was late and she was sleepy and he had not remembered the bill.
So here he was the next morning, eight fifty short. No, it was worse than that. He had delivered two packages last night and he hadn't picked up any money from either place. Serena owed him eight fifty. Mrs. Olga Parkington owed him one fifty. Mrs. Parkington was the woman who hadn't been able to find her purse. He had said he would call later, but he hadn't. He had reached Serena's and had stayed there.
Eight fifty and one fifty. That totaled ten dollars, which he didn't have. He could collect it and he would, but he didn't have it now. He wouldn't have it by noon. Just before he left Serena had said she meant to sleep until noon and he was not to call her. When she was free for an evening she would leave an order at the drug store.
He couldn't telephone her and he couldn't go to see her. He couldn't pick up the eight fifty.
He could get the one fifty from Mrs. Parkington, but not right away. He telephoned her at what he thought was a reasonable hour-ten-thirty-but she didn't answer the phone. She still wasn't home when he telephoned at eleven-thirty.
Joe was at the drug store early to sweep out, but Mr. Morrell was late so he didn't have to account for the ten dollars he should have collected. He left, then came back again at about eleven forty-five.
Noel was at the fountain with some of the gang. He had forgotten until then that he had made a tentative date with her for the evening before. And that he hadn't kept it. That should have made him feel bad, but it didn't. Last night he had had the greatest night of his life-a wonderful night. To be very honest he wanted to shout about what had happened. He wanted to gloat openly. It was disappointing he couldn't.
He stopped and talked to Noel and he half expected she would be angry, but she wasn't. It occurred to him that she hadn't been there either, but she didn't say one way or the other. Then, when he propositioned her for another date, she had agreed but had put it off until another day. In a way, the delay was fortunate. He was short of money and if he had to fork out ten dollars to pay for last night's deliveries, he would be broke.
He left Noel, walked to the rear of the store and was noticed by Mr. Morrell. His voice was crisp. "Joe, come over here."
He walked that way. "Yes sir."
"I believe you made two deliveries last night," Mr. Morrell said. "They amounted to ten dollars."
"I left it at home," Joe said. "Sorry Mr. Morrell."
"Sorry!" Mr. Morrell said. "Go and get it. You can make up the time later."
Joe turned and left the store. He knew it wasn't wise to admit he had failed to collect the money. If he did, Mr. Morrell would send him out to get it and it couldn't be collceted now. Besides, he didn't want to injure his relationship with Serena. He wanted to see her again. Before he finished with her he meant to wear out the bed. He could have gone to see Mrs. Parkington, but that wouldn't have helped a great deal. No, the only thing he could do now was put up his own ten dollars and get along until payday-tomorrow. If he needed a little for tonight he could see Mrs. Parkington. By now, surely, she would have found her purse.
He stayed away from the drug store long enough to have gone home and back, then returned and handed over his own ten dollars. Mr. Morrell took it, put the money in the cash register and gave him a short lecture on responsibility. This was one of his favorite subjects. He had a few others-truth, honesty, and Sue. Joe wondered if Sue had stayed last night after nine.
He took a look at her. Tall enough, and nicely padded, in a way she was quite attractive. He would never forget how she had looked when Mr. Morrell stepped away from her that night in the back of the supply room.
One of these days or nights Joe would try her himself. He felt the certainty that he could take her and make her like him. Serena had liked him. She hadn't even guessed that was his first time. If he was that good, Sue would be no problem at all.
Nor would Noel be any problem if he could just get started with her.
He didn't know what had happened to her last night and she didn't know about him. In a way, they had hit the same level in life at about the same time. And today it was interesting to observe the attitudes they had fallen into. Joe was riding a high crest, proud, sure of himself, on top of the world.
Noel couldn't have felt much lower. She was carrying a burden of guilt and just behind her was a shadow of fear. If she had known where to run she would have started running, but she couldn't. Fan would never understand.
Right now, Joe and Noel were miles apart. In a little while they would grow much closer, but not in the way either one would have thought.
Joe had to make three deliveries late in the afternoon. Two were routine and uninteresting. The third was a little out of the ordinary. It didn't add up to very much-a twenty-five cent tip. But there was some conversation which might lead up to something if he could work it out. It was stalled for the present-the man might never pick it up. Or then again he might. You never knew how things like this would work out.
The man involved was Mr. Matt Kroeger. He lived in a rather nice apartment, large and well furnished. He came to the door when Joe rang the bell.
"Oh, you're the boy from the drug store, huh," Kroeger said. "Come on in."
He turned around, walked away, and Joe hesitated, remembering he wasn't supposed to enter anyone's apartment. But then he shrugged and stepped inside.
Kroeger was on the telephone. He picked it up and went on talking for a moment. A rather big man, heavy, in the forties, he had wide shoulders, powerful arms, rugged features. His voice was sharp and positive over the telephone. He slammed it down when he finished, muttered profanely, then looked at Joe. "How much do I owe you?"
"Two seventy-five," Joe answered.
The man reached into his back pocket, took out his wallet, dug out three dollars and handed them over. "The extra two-bits is for you. Thanks a lot."
"That's all right," Joe said, and he started for the door.
"Hey, wait a minute," Kroeger said. "You live around here, don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
"Know your way around, I'll bet?" He was grinning.
Joe grinned. "Some I guess."
"I'll bet you do all right. Got a girl?" He hesitated. He didn't know what was coming. "Not-not exactly. That is-"
"You mean you play the field?"
"You might say that."
"That's what I did when I was your age. Greatest years I ever had. Never will forget 'em. I was just wondering-"
"Wondering what?"
"You know most of the girls around here?"
"I guess I know some."
The man gave a hearty laugh. "I'll bet you do. More than you want to admit. Bet you could even tell me where I might be able to pick one up some night, and I don't mean some old hag. I go for the young ones."
"I don't know," Joe said, and he was half frightened by the proposition. What was this man asking him to do-dig up a girl he could have some fun with? That was even hard for him.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Joe Banning."
"Joe, huh. And you work at Peel's. Think about what I said. I'll be in to see you in a day or so."
"I'm not sure what I can do." Joe said, and he was frowning.
The man waved his arm. "You like money, don't you?"
"Sure I do, but-"
"I can always dig some up," Kroeger said. "I'm not asking you to do this for nothing. I'll bet you could use an extra ten bucks."
"But I'm still not sure."
"Think about it, huh. I'll see you again."
"Yeah, I'll see you again," Joe said, and he swung around once more. This time he made it to the door.
He was a little angry when he got to thinking about Kroeger's proposition. He wanted a girl, and without much question he didn't want to talk to her or look at her. He wanted to put her to bed. And he wanted him, Joe Banning, to make the proposition, to set up the date. Kroeger would pay him, but what girl did he know who would go for a blind date with an older man? The entire scheme was ridiculous.
Joe worked out the rest of the day. At nine-twenty, when he got away, most of the gang which usually hung around during the evening had drifted away. At least Noel wasn't there. Of course she had said she had to go home tonight, but he thought she might have changed her mind. Serena moved across his mind. He had thought of her half a hundred times before. She was a warm and tingling memory. Her husband was with her tonight, and that wasn't pleasant to remember, but the day would come when there would be an order he had to deliver to Mrs. Serena O'Bannion. That would be more than an order. That would be an invitation to spend the evening.
He laughed to himself, turned away, and beaded in the direction of Mrs. Olga Parkington's apartment She owed him a dollar and a half, and he might as well pick it up.
She answered the door when he rang the bell and at first she looked startled, surprised. But then she smiled, and said, "Oh, it's you. I thought you were coming back last night."
"I meant to," Joe said. "But I had too much work at the store. I mean it was quite late-"
"That's all right." She bobbed her head. "Come on in."
Joe hesitated, but then stepped inside. The woman was again wearing the red, silky negligee. A short, thick-bodied woman with frizzy gray hair, she wasn't at all attractive. Last night she had seemed distracted, hadn't known what she had done with her purse. He hoped she had it tonight.
She did. She found it and turned toward him. "How much is it I owe you?"
"It's a dollar and a half, Mrs. Parkington."
She looked in her purse, then looked up. "I don't have the correct change. I have five dollars here. Can you change it?"
Joe scowled. "I'm afraid I can't."
"I just don't have any small bills," the woman said. "And I have hardly any change at all."
"I suppose I can come another time," Joe said.
"No, I don't want you to have to do that. Are you all through for the night? I mean-"
"Yes, I'm through for the night. I'm on my way home."
"You live nearby?"
"A block or two."
"What is your name?"
"Joe Banning."
"Joe. I like that. I've just been thinking. I might have some extra change somewhere." Do you like tea?"
"Tea?" He was almost startled. Then he shook has head. "No, ma'am, I don't care much for tea."
"You would mine," the woman said. "But you'd probably rather have Coca Cola. There is some in the refrigerator. I'll get you a bottle while you're waiting."
He almost turned away and walked out but then he got to thinking that this was all a dodge and that this woman didn't mean to pay the One fifty. That made him a little angry and he thought, I'll stay right here until I get my money. I'll stay here until she throws me out. She can dig up the one fifty if she wants to.
"Sure, a Coke would be fine," he told her, and he grinned.
She got him the Coke and poured it into a glass. Then she said, "You can help me look for the change, Joe. I want you to." A funny expression crossed her face. "I don't often get visitors."
"I'm not a visitor," Joe said. "I'm a collector. No one likes collectors."
"But I do," the woman said, and she laughed. No, she cackled. That was the way it came out. Then she said, "Come on, Joe."
He followed her to a side door, looked in. This was a small bedroom, crowded by a huge bed, a bureau and a vanity, a bedside table and several chairs. There was a closet door and a door to the bathroom. Clothes were everywhere, on the bed, on the chairs, on the doorknobs. The vanity top and the top of the bureau were cluttered by bottles, all sorts of beauty aids. There seemed to be only one light, a lamp on the bed stand.
The woman had turned the light on from an electric switch near the door. She walked to the bureau, opened the top drawer, looked in, then she looked around at Joe and said, "Don't just stand there. Sit down on the bed and make yourself comfortable."
Joe looked at the woman, then looked at the bed, and he thought, What a setup. What a perfect setup if she was other woman. But not this one-short, dumpy, hatchet-faced, and maybe not all there. If there was any dollar and a half anywhere around, she ought to know where that was.
But he walked to the bed and he sat down, and he wondered what would be next, what dodge to avoid paying the bill.
She surprised him, but this happened gradually.
She turned toward him. "Is the drink all right?"
He nodded. "It's perfect."
"You don't mind waiting?"
"No, that's ail right.".
She walked to the bed, turned and sat down next to him, and motioned with her arm. "I declare, I don't know where to start hunting but I really don't mind. I have someone to talk to. Sometimes a woman can get very lonely. Maybe you know what I mean."
Joe didn't, but he said, "I suppose so."
The woman spoke again. "I may never find the change I'm looking for. I suppose I ought to tell you that, but if you don't have to leave right away, if you can stay here for a while you can have the whole five dollars. It's there on top of the bureau."
He didn't know quite what to think. Maybe she was lonely, but what could he say to her, what could he talk about?
"There's another five dollars there, too," the woman said. "Ten dollars, Joe. Maybe that isn't much to you, but if you don't have to go anywhere, well-you know-"
Her voice had dropped so he could hardly hear her. He suddenly swallowed and the thought of What she wanted slammed at him all at once. Here be was, on her bed. The lights were low. She was right beside him. And on the bureau were two five dollar bills he could pick up and take.
If he stayed.
And if he did what she wanted.
He looked at the woman then looked away. She vwas short, thick-bodied, and she wouldn't rate at all in the beauty department. She must be in the late forties. But the lights weren't too bright and that would help, no one else would ever have to know about this, and that was an advantage. So was ten dollars and so was a new kind of experience. Maybe she would really be interesting.
He knew then what he would do but he hadn't yet admitted that to himself. He was still arguing with himself. He took a gulp of the Coke, then leaned to the side and put the glass on the bed stand.
She reached out, put a hand on his knee. "Did I shock you, Joe? Do you think I am terrible?"
He shook his head. "Of course not."
"I want you to call me Olga."
He made a sound in his throat.
"This is really a nice bed." She patted the bed with her other hand. One hand was still on Joe's knee.
He cleared his throat, then spoke, just to be saying something. "My bed is much smaller, and bumpy."
"Then you'll really like this one. Lean back. See how comfortable this is."
He leaned back and he thought, I'm lost. Now I've got to go through with this. But rather strangely, be didn't mind at all the way things were developing. This would be something new and different and besides, he was getting paid. Altogether, not a bad deal.
Olga had crawled round beside him, and she said, "Now you can put your feet up."
He did, but he was still wearing all his clothes and he wondered what she would do about that. She was in better condition for a tumble than he was. Under that red negligee she probably wasn't wearing very much.
But if she was worried about his clothes she wasn't doing much about them. She was beside him, quite close beside him, one of her hands on his chest. And her hand was just lying there.
Then the hand moved, fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, got them undone, and her hand slid under the shirt. Joe thought, I ought to be the one doing that for her. But he didn't move and he thought, Why don't I see what she does? This is her party anyhow.
Her voice, at least, was very low. "Isn't this nice? Very nice?"
He could say easily, "Yes. This is very nice."
"You do like my bed, don't you?"
"I could almost go to sleep."
"You can in a little while. Do you mind what I'm doing?"
"Of course not." He could say that honestly. She wasn't doing anything but lying close to him, one hand on his chest. The hand was moving a little, circling around. But that was all, for a moment. Then she raised her head, finished unbuttoning his shirt, spread that wide, then put her head down on his chest. She kissed him there, very lightly, and laughed.
Joe thought, This is all going backward. I ought to be doing this for her. But if this is what she wants-Her voice was still low. "Joe, do you mind what I do?"
He shook his head. "Why should I?"
"I don't know. I just wondered. Your skin is so warm and soft. I like just to lie here."
That was what she said, that she just liked to lie there. But she wasn' just lying. One of her hands was on his belt and his belt got unbuckled. Then he tensed.
"This is nice too," Olga said. "Very, very nice."
Her head was inching over his chest. Joe thought, She better be careful. If she isn't-
But she wasn't going to be careful. Her lips were on him and he knew a sudden flood of emotion which he couldn't hold back. And there that was-the sharp tension, the break, and a slow, spreading feeling of relaxation.
He thought, This was what she wanted all the time. I never even guessed.
He knew about this. The guys talked about this as something different. This was certainly different. He was really learning fast, Serena last night with some straight and fancy tumbling, and tonight Olga with some tricks.
Her head moved away, almost reluctantly, and she moved so that she was lying near him, her head now close to his shoulder, her hand on his chest.
She spoke slowly. "Joe, was that all right?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"Do you feel cheated?"
"I guess not."
"I think I have-cheated you. Some men would say that."
"I didn't."
She rolled her hand on his chest. "You could do anything with me, now. Anything, Joe."
He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do.
She was silent for a time, then she spoke again. "You were wonderful, Joe. You let me do what I wanted. But now I want some attention, too, I really do."
"You-you mean-"
"Turn this way. I'll help you."
She drew her hand back and he rolled toward her. He wasn't exactly sure what he was to do, but apparently he would find out.
Her negligee had fallen open. She wasn't wearing anything else and he was surprised at her breasts. They weren't bad at all. They stood out very well Not like Serena's, but the nipples were even larger.
He put his head there and Olga said, "That's right, Joe. That's right. Stay right there for a while."
He did. He moved those boobs around with his face and he could sense she was getting excited. He worked a little harder.
"Yes," Olga said. "There."
He thought she meant his hand but she didn't. She wanted him to do what she had.
"That's right, Joe," she whispered. "Yes. Yes. That's what I wanted."
That must have been all right for her, too. She twisted and rolled and really seemed to be having fun, and if this was what she wanted, then this was fine.
And for ten dollars, why not?
No, not ten dollars. One fifty went to the store. He would get only eight fifty. But the next time he'd get the full ten dollars, if there was a next time.
He wanted to laugh. He knew there would be another time.