Chapter 3
Sue Dorchester was twenty-eight and married. Arthur Morrell knew it, and Howard Kendrick knew it. Joe Banning didn't. Actually, she had been married twice before, but she had never mentioned that to anyone. Even her present husband didn't know of her previous marital experiences.
She had her first taste of marriage when she was eighteen. That had been in Kentucky. Her husband had been a farmer and not a very successful one. Before she was nineteen she ran away with a hardware salesman who took her to Akron. She left him in Akron, took a bus to Cleveland and got a job. Within a few months she met and married a second husband. This lasted a year and a half; she ran away again, took a bus to New York City, and went to work in a restaurant in the Village.
It was three years before she married again and this time she was careful about the man she chose. She didn't want to have to run away again. Carl Dorchester, husband number three-he thought he was the first-was a bookkeeper. But he was planning to get ahead; he was going to night school, working to become a C.P.A. He had been twenty-seven when he and Sue got married. That was three years ago.
Now, he was thirty and he was still working and going to school, driving himself. He didn't earn much.
Sue worked to add to the family budget, and to keep busy.
She and Carl didn't have much fun together. She worked, and he worked, and at night Carl went to class or had to study. That included the week ends. Sometimes Sue wondered if it was worth it. Sometimes she thought about running away again, getting a new start m some other city. But she didn't want to have to do that. After all, she was no longer a fresh young girl. Her twenty-eight years were beginning to show in a few light wrinkles and a flabbiness in her legs and arms.
She hadn't bothered to get a divorce from either her first or second husbands. She had never been strictly moral, but she was not promiscuous, either. Howard Kendrick, the pharmacist at Peel's, had made half a dozen attempts to get somewhere with her. On three occasions he had taken her into the back of the supply room, but he never got her to comply. He got his hands all over her-she had permitted that-but the session ended right there.
She had said, "No, Howard! I wouldn't like that. You wouldn't like that either."
"On the floor or on a bed, what difference does that make?"
He had her right against the wall. The front of her dress was open and his head had been there. He was worked up enough to take her right where she was. She wouldn't cooperate.
When he finally realized he wasn't going to get any farther, he had asked her, "What do you want me to do?"
"Get a bed," Sue said.
"A bed! How am I going to get a bed?"
She shook her head. "Isn't that up to you?"
"A hotel room, huh?"
"If that's a first-class hotel."
"Do you know what a first class hotel room would cost?"
"Twenty dollars, maybe. Don't you think I'm worth that?"
She had him there. He couldn't say no. And he didn't want to spend twenty dollars.
They went through the same scene three times. She would go so far and then stop. And that was that. Howard Kendrick had never tried her. He never would.
But Arthur Morrell was a different matter. He had her one night right on the floor where Howard Kendrick had wanted her. That was the night when Joe Banning made use of his peephole in the washroom.
Arthur Morrell had no trouble persuading her. But he had paid for her. The next week Sue's pay check was five dollars higher, and would stay at that level. Sue and Carl could use the extra money.
In considering the matter of a salary increase, Sue was brutally honest. She and Carl needed more money. Twenty dollars a month was a worth-while increase.
"If I give you a raise," Morrell had said, "could you do a little work for me tonight?"
"Work?" Sue said.
Morrell grinned. "That won't be difficult. You might even like that."
She didn't have to guess what he meant. What he wanted was in his eyes, in the flaring of his nostrils. He had looked at her like that before.
She hesitated, then said, "Just tonight."
"You might like-"
"No. Just tonight."
"All right. Just tonight.
He would want more than just tonight. She was well aware of that. But she would worry about that later.
She nodded, smiled, and that night she paid off. That was a very rushed affair and not very enjoyable, but Arthur Morrell seemed satisfied for the moment.
Sue Had been working at Peel's Drugstore for three months. She was not an expert cashier, but she was fairly honest. She served as a clerk when it was necessary. She got to work promptly and she usually looked nice. Howard Kendrick was a problem to her, but she thought she would be able to handle him. Arthur Morrell might become more of a problem, but that was in the future. Amusingly, Joe Banning now and then looked at her as though he wanted to try her, but Joe was just a kid, no one to worry about.
Actually, her only real problems lay at home, with Carl and with herself.
What about the future?
What about her and Carl?
Would they ever come to a place where they could live like normal people, where they could have fun with each other, going to shows, going on parties, going to the beach and going to bed? She didn't know when she had gone to a show, to a party, to the beach. They went to bed, but it wasn't often that anything happened. Carl was too tired. Night after night after night he was too tired. This was actually true. Carl was physically killing himself with his regular work, his classes, and his endless study.
Why had she let Howard Kendrick go so far? Maybe because that was something to do, and maybe that was something she needed.
For the sake of a raise she had taken a tumble with Arthur Morrell. That had been too hurried to be very enjoyable, yet she hadn't minded. And the next time he wanted her-
Why did she feel this way?
Two late orders had come in by telephone. Arthur Morrell packaged them, then called Joe Banning, and sent him off to make the deliveries.
A little while later Arthur Morrell walked to the cashier's cage. He smiled at Sue. "You're the prettiest thing in the store."
"Not as pretty as money," Sue answered.
"Much prettier." He lowered his voice. "Do you have to go right home?"
She was ready for that question and she nodded. "Yes. I have a lot of work I have to do at home."
"Couldn't you stay a little while?"
"Not tonight."
"Joe won't be here, cleaning. He has to make two deliveries. We wouldn't be hurried."
She shook her head but managed to smile. "I don't like the floor."
"The floor?"
"That's what I said. I don't like the floor. I bruise too easily. If you had a bed-"
"A bed-where?"
"That would have to be available, wouldn't that?" He scowled at her. "What are you saying to me, really?"
"That I don't like the floor. That's all."
"But if I had a bed?"
She looked away. "We might talk about things."
"You just mean talk."
"Get the bed, Arthur, then we'll see."
He turned, and left her, then from his own desk he stared at her thoughtfully. And Sue told herself, I better do some thinking, too. What would I do if he provided a bed in some apartment? How far do I want to go? What about Carl?
She left the drug store promptly at nine, and walked home. It was not a long trip but tonight it took longer than usual. She was upset, worried, annoyed with herself. Right toward the end, just before she walked out, she almost spoke to Arthur again. If she had, she would have said she would stay for a time after they locked up. She would have had him again on the floor, for no reason at all other than that maybe she would have enjoyed herself.
So what did that make her? A loose woman? A hussy?
Maybe she was, or maybe she was just tired of going home to a husband who didn't have any time for her, Who left her alone too much.
It was a warm night. All along the street people were out on the sidewalks and on the stoops, some talking in groups, some just silent. A good many women were in shorts and halters; some of the men weren't wearing shirts. As soon as she got home she'd get out of most of what she was wearing and then collapse. It would have been nice to undress and have a beer and have someone around to appreciate her.
But Carl would be studying.
She knew it, and she was right. He hardly looked up as she came in. But he said, "Hi. Hard day?"
"In a way," Sue answered.
Carl said nothing. He probably hadn't heard what she said. His head was buried in a book.
Sue changed clothes, changed to sandals, panties, shorts and a halter. She thought of doing some ironing but she didn't want to. She washed out a few things. She wished she had bought some beer, but she hadn't and there was none in the refrigerator. They could have afforded it, but Carl didn't care for beer so they seldom bought it.
Sue wandered around the place restlessly. She stared at Carl and wished she had the nerve to throw away all his books, but that would have been horrible.
She interrupted him and that was wrong. "Carl!"
He looked up at her, frowning. "You know when I'm studying. What is it?"
"Do you ... Carl, how long are you going to be studying?"
He looked at his watch. "I ought to be good for a couple of hours. I'd like to finish this entire section. H I can hold up, I will."
"You couldn't just.. just skip a night ... take a night off?"
"Darling, you know I can't."
"Just tonight?"
"Not tonight, or tomorrow night. We're almost there, darling. Don't you realize it? One more year and I'll have my certificate. Then we can relax."
"No. Then you'll have to change to a new job. There'll be night work again. You told me so once."
"A little night work, yes. If you want to get ahead, you pay for it. But things will be easier next year. I promise."
"I wish I could be sure of it."
"You can, darling. Now why don't you go down and see the Zelinskis, or Ed Yorty and his wife. I don't want to keep you cooped in."
"The Zelinskis are dirty and I don't like Ed Yorty."
"Then try the Martins or someone else. Or sit out in front for a while."
She shrugged, and turned away. He wasn't sending her off, she realized that. All he wanted was to be left alone so he could bury his head in his book. What she did with herself he probably didn't care. He loved her, sure. But his work came first. That was Carl, her husband, who was on his way ahead, but so slowly she could hardly mark his progress.
She sat down, looked through a magazine, put it aside. She could wish, now, that she had stayed at the store. At least, if she had, something would have happened to her. She wouldn't be as nervous or as restless as she was now.
She got up, headed for the door, and called, "I'm going downstairs. Maybe I'll sit out in front until it's cooler."
Carl didn't even answer. He probably didn't even hear what she said.
She meant to go outside, but she didn't get that far. When she got down to the second floor, Ed Yorty was in the door to his apartment, and he waved and called, "Hi there, Sue. How about a can of beer?"
He had one in his hand, and he was grinning, and Sue thought,. Why not? That's what I've been thinking about anyhow. A can of beer. Martha will talk me to death but I can stand it.
Martha was Ed's wife. She was big, but she could whine like a baby. She didn't like anything about anything or anybody. Ed was just as big, barrel-chested, and not much to look at. He was barefooted, was wearing shorts, and nothing else. He was in the mid-forties.
As Sue hesitated he motioned again. "Come on. I'll even put some clothes on."
"It's too hot for that," Sue said. "How's Martha?"
"Cranky as ever."
"Are you sure you've got an extra can of beer?"
"Come a-runnin'."
She walked toward him and entered his apartment as he stepped aside, then closed the door and led the way to the kitchen. Sue followed him. Martha wasn't in the front room or in the kitchen.
Ed opened the refrigerator, took out a can of beer, opened it and held it toward her. "Got plenty more, too," he mentioned.
Sue tasted it. "Umm. Good."
"It's just beer."
"Sure, but it's cool and refreshing-everything it says in the ads. Where's Martha?"
"Over in Brooklyn."
"Brooklyn?"
"Her sister got sick a couple days ago. Martha's going to stay there for several days, helping."
"Oh. I didn't know that."
She was frowning. She hadn't realized Ed was here alone. If she had known that she probably wouldn't have accepted his invitation to step inside. Now, maybe, she would have trouble leaving. He was very much married if Martha was around, but if she wasn't his arms were very practiced. He had used them on her several times in the hall.
But he was not bothering her now, and the beer was good. She took another drink.
"What's Carl doing?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Studying. Lost in some book. He doesn't even know I'm around."
"I know you're around."
She frowned, but was silent.
"I know you're here," Ed said again. "Want another can of beer? I got plenty."
"No." She shook her head.
"Does it seem warm in here?"
"It's warm everywhere."
"Not in the bedroom." He pointed. "I've got a new window fan on the job. It helps a lot. You ought to try it."
"No thanks, Ed."
"It's really cool in there."
"I'll bet"
He scowled at her. "You're just like a woman. You make up things in your mind."
"Do I?" She looked away, was silent for a moment, then motioned. "Haw about another can of beer?"
"Sure. Another can coming right, up."
She didn't look at him but she was sure he was grinning, and that his grin couldn't have been much wider. And she asked herself, Why did I say that? Why did I ask for another can of beer? What am I thinking about? She was afraid she knew the answer. Another can of beer would keep her here, and in the next room was a window fan that made the air cooler. There was something else there, too. A very convenient bed where she could stretch out, and relax. Only she wouldn't do much relaxing. Ed Yorty would be right there beside her.
She took a deep breath and she asked, Why am I doing this? And with a man like Ed Yorty? This doesn't make sense.
He opened another can of beer, moved toward her, gave her the can and slid an arm around her waist. His voice was almost suggestive. "Hey, how about that? Why don't we try that next room?"
She took a sip of the beer. ""I don't know, Ed. I shouldn't stay. I've a hundred things to do upstairs."
"Do them some other time."
"You can't put things off forever."
"Just for tonight. You'll like being in there. That window fan reallv cools things."
"That couldn't help much."
"Come on. Let me show you."
He urged her toward the parlor door, his arm still around her and as she moved with him to the door and across to the bedroom, she had stopped asking herself why she was doing this. She knew what was ahead.
She knew almost step by step, just what would happen. Ed would talk about the. fan but he wouldn't talk about that very much. He would get her onto the bed and go to work, and he wouldn't waste much time.
The horrible thing was that she wouldn't mind.
She was even looking forward to what would happen.
They came to the bedroom, stepped inside. The bed lamp was burning. That was the only light. Beyond the foot of the bed was a window, and in that was a large square fan, churning up the air. The temperature was not much lower than in the kitchen.
"How do you like that?" Ed asked.
Sue shook her head. "It's still too warm."
"Sure it's warm but it's better in here than outside. Try the bed. You get right in the wind stream. That helps a lot.
"You just want to get me onto the bed," Sue said bluntly.
He laughed and nodded. "Sure. Why not?"
"I ought to leave, and you know that."
"Huh-uh." He gave her a hug. Then he said, "Finish that beer. We can get more later."
She took another gulp of the beer then handed him the can, stepped forward, turned and sat down on the bed. And almost at once he was beside her. He had set the beer can aside and now he pushed her down and leaned over and kissed her, and one of his hands was already under her halter and at ioer breasts.
That was a very good kiss, a demanding kiss. His mouth was sealed against hers. In half a minute she didn't have any breath left, and she didn't have any halter. He had pulled her toward him and had reached back and unbuttoned the halter. That still hung on her arms but the garment wasn't serving any purpose.
He drew his head away for a moment. That gave her a chance to breathe, and gave him a chance to look at her breasts.
His voice was low. "Hey, these boobs axe all right. Better than I guessed."
She smiled for a moment, then she said, "Ed, did you lock the front door?"
"Sure. It's got a snap lock."
"Stinker, you planned this all the time."
"Why not? I've been wanting you for a long time."
"I never should have come in."
"You mean you don't like this? You don't like this at all?" He rolled his hand on her breasts, trying one mound then the other. He rubbed over the nipples, the blunt obstacles which stood in the way. He did that again and again, and waves of radiating impulses seemed to spread throughout her body. Once more she was short of breath. Her blood was pounding faster.
"So you don't like this," Ed said, and he laughed.
She didn't answer, didn't say anything. She didn't want to tell him how she felt. She was enjoying every moment of this. His hands seemed to be charged with electricity. She had closed her eyes, had shut him out of her mind. That might have been Ed who was doing this, but more than that, this was a man who was doing this. He was a source of excitement and of delight; her body was a responsive object.
He lifted her, moved her so she was stretched out full length on the bed, and in the process he slid down her shorts and panties. For a moment, then, he neglected her to strip off his own clothes, but that didn't take long. He was back again almost at once, his head was down on her breasts, and his hand was on her too. A very practiced, very knowing hand.
But she could try that, too, and she did, and he raised his head and laughed and said, "How do you like this now?"
"I'm going to like this," Sue answered. "What are you waiting for?"
He didn't wait any longer. He swung to her, and she rolled with every movement of his body, stirring an excitement which seemed almost out of control.
She got there, finally, to a smashing crescendo, a high plateau of enjoyment, a star-spangled finish.
Then there was a time to relax, and to wish that the window fan was a little better. The wind stream Ed had promised didn't seem to touch her.
But everything else had been fine, the can of beer, the second can, the bed and the rest.
She stretched out on the bed and she didn't even try to think.
Here she was on Ed Yorty's bed, thoroughly nude and entirely unconcerned. Very well satisfied, too. She would have said yesterday that this was an impossibility. She didn't like this man, she never had, yet she had enjoyed him as much as he had enjoyed her.
This. was a crazy, hard-to-understand world. She had a very nice husband. Once she never would have thought about going to bed with anyone else. Yet she had been tumbled by Arthur Morrell to gain a higher salary, and tonight-How could she explain tonight?
He had moved over beside her, was lying there motionless, resting. Although he was not at all attractive, in a way he had been a very good lover.
He turned toward her now, and moved his hand to rest on her breast. He spoke under his breath. "You know, we do all right together."
Sue didn't answer. Her eyes were closed. She didn't want to talk.
But Ed did. He spoke again. "We're gonna try again. We're gonna have a lot of fun, you and me, every night we can."
"How?" Sue asked bluntly. "What about Martha?"
"I told you she was in Brooklyn."
"She'll be back."
"Sure, I but we'll work things out."
"How?"
"Just leave that to me."
She shook her head but was silent She was thinking that this was all for Ed Yorty. For some strange reason she had needed him tonight but she wouldn't feel that way tomorrow night, or the next night. For a long time after she and Carl had been married she had enjoyed a nightly tumble, but then as his work and his studies seemed to pile up, there had been less and less time for love-making. Now, she was getting along pretty well, sleeping alone. Occasionally she felt an urge for something like this, but she didn't mean to let things get out of hand. Not with a man like Yorty. That was definite.
He rolled his hand on her breast, made a sound in his throat, and then said, "How about another wrestling match? I'm a pretty good man."
"How about more beer?" Sue suggested.
"Beer?"
"You said we'd have another."
"You'd rather have more beer?"
"Get the beer," Sue said. "Then we'll see how we feel."
She didn't need any more beer but after all she had to go back to Carl, and pile into bed alone, and a few more beers might help her to go to sleep.
A few more beers and a little attention from Ed Yorty.
Why not?
He wasn't much to look at.
He wasn't anyone she would ever want to. go to bed with again.
He had nothing to offer but himself, the beer, and a window fan.
But here she was on his bed, very nude and very pliable, and that was easy to stay where she was and take another tumble. That might satisfy her for a long time. That might quiet her uneasiness.
She stretched out on her back and wished Ed would hurry back with the beer.
It was quite late when she got back, but Carl was still up, still studying. He looked up at her vaguely, as though he didn't know her, but then he smiled, and asked, "Any cooler outside?"
"Not very much," Sue answered.
"You look tired."
"It's been a long day."
He motioned with one arm. "One of these days you can quit all this. We'll be able to live in a decent place. You won't have to work any more."
She had heard that story before. She had heard it many times. She was even a little tired of it. She pointed to the bed. "I've got to get to bed. So far as I can see, tomorrow is just another day."
"I'll be in bed before long," Carl said.
He did go to bed in a little while, but Sue was unaware of it. She had fallen asleep.