Chapter 4

Bernie shifted a bag of groceries awkwardly from one arm to the other, then propped it against the door, holding it up with a knee while he worked his key into the lock, catching the bag as the door gave way, then kicking the door shut after him.

He glanced at the two couches that doubled as beds and grinned.

"Isn't this a bitch?" he said. He moved behind the counter that served as a table and set down the bag and began unloading its contents on the black vinyl counter-top. He glanced at the couches again.

His own had been transferred from a bed already and the slip cover replaced. The other was still pulled away from the wall and covered with rumpled bed clothing. There was a great lump in the blanket and a bare foot sticking out one end, dangling in the air.

"What am I running here, a hotel?" he said loudly, setting out a large cereal package and a clump of bananas on the counter as though on display. Then he moved to the bed and sat on the edge. He reached out and ran a finger lightly over the bare foot. The lump in the blanket shifted slightly. "Is this Bernie Evans' Hotel, room and board and sleep till noon? Huh?"

The last word was very loud and caused a murmur from under the blanket, accompanied by a more violent move. Two brown hands emerged and clamped over the place where ears had to be. Bernie laughed and tugged at the blanket. It pulled back and finally the lump revealed its contents in an abrupt rise.

"C'mon, dammit," Mike said. His large dark eyes flashed in a gesture typical of his Spanish ancestry. "Can't a person sleep?"

After the statement he immediately went under again with a great flourish.

"Not till noon," Bernie said.

"It ain't noon," Mike said.

"Little friend, it is noon. It was noon two hours ago," Bernie said simply. "So, get up!"

The last two words were accompanied with good whacks, carefully aimed, and caused an eruption that made Bernie jump back and almost fall off the edge of the bed.

"Why do you have to do that?" Mike said angrily. "Every morning, every morning, every morning! Just because you get up early everybody has to get up early!"

"That's right," Bernie said. He grinned because he knew his grin was adding to the younger boy's irritation. "I make the rules," he added. "Everybody does what I say!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Bernie laughed loudly. "And when I say get up, you get up. See?"

"You can't make me. I can sleep all day if I want to."

"Not in this house, sonny boy," Bernie said. "When you get back to Chicago, you can sleep all you want to. Both of you. Together!"

"Knock it off," Mike said.

"I'll knock it off! And this!" Bernie pummeled playfully at the blanket, jabbing from all sides, but pulling his punches. "And this and this and this!" He knew a weakness and finally grabbed Mike's waist and dug his fingertips into the boy's sides. Mike began to writhe under the blanket, but finally his cursing evolved into laughter and he turned over and stared up at Bernie.

"Anyway, how come you didn't come home last night? You know this is my last night here?"

"Big deal!"

"Anyway, why get up? There ain't no milk left."

"Anyway, anyway, anyway!"

"And the Wheaties are all gone too."

"Good God! What the hell are we gonna do?"

"Oh!" Mike frowned, irritated at Bernie's game.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Bernie said, imitating his tone. "What do you call that?" He pointed at the counter. Mike looked past him at the groceries, and his eyes lit up with pleasure. Suddenly he was alive.

"Did you go to the store?"

"No," Bernie said rising, "It came to me in a dream. In fact I'm asleep and this is all a dream." He moved across the room, his arms extended, his head weaving in a strange dance. "A horrible nightmare. Oh, life is a curse. It's a curse to be old and ugly."

Mike laughed and sprang up from the bed. He jumped at Bernie's back, locking his arms around Bernie's neck.

"Come on," Bernie said. "You're choking me." He struggled to break free of the hold. Mike loosened the hold and Bernie turned, facing him. He put his hands on Mike's arms as though to push them off.

"Are you gonna miss me when I'm gone?" Mike said.

"I suppose."

"You're gonna be lonesome without the patter of my little feet around here, aren't you?"

"I've solved that," Bernie said. "I'm gonna buy me a cocker spaniel. Now, let go. What if someone should come in now? What the hell would they think?"

"They'd think we were lovers," Mike said.

He grinned and puckered his lips, making loud kissing sounds.

"You monkey," Bernie said grinning back. Then he felt a tinge of anger, and it crept into his voice behind the grin. "Now let go!"

Suddenly he was staring at Mike's body, the deep cream color of his skin contrasting vividly against the white cloth of his unbuttoned pa jama tops that hung from his shoulders. "You monkey," Bernie said, again, but this time his voice trembled. "You-bastard!"

Without warning he grabbed one of Mike's wrists and twisted his arm behind his back while he swung the other arm around Mike's throat, and clamped his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You faked me out," Mike hollered, laughing. "That wasn't fair!" Bernie pushed Mike's arm higher behind his back and Mike winced. "You'll break my arm," he said, clawing with his free hand at Bernie's arm that was pinned across his chest.

"Now," Bernie said finally, "Who's got who?"

"I can get away."

"Not until I let you," Bernie said. "Not until I let you and that may be never!"

"I give up," Mike said. "Let me go. I think my arm is broken."

"I'll never let you go," Bernie said and he was trembling. "Never!" Suddenly his hand slid from Mike's shoulder and clamped over one of his breasts and he squeezed the flesh and his hand moved down the boy's body deliberately, angrily, his fingers pressing hard against the skin. "Never!"

Suddenly someone was screaming. "Rape!"

"Oh, my God!" Bernie released him, the word jarring his head. Mike was laughing and he ran to the apartment door. He pulled it open. He stood in the doorway and yelled as loud as he could. "Ra-aa-aa-pe!"

Bernie darted to the doorway and pulled him in, slamming the door shut. "Where the hell do you learn crap like that?"

"That's a trick I picked up," Mike said, tapping a finger against a temple, grinning. "That's how girls protect themselves."

"You damn little fool," Bernie said hotly.

"I told you I could get away, didn't I?"

"All right."

"I can get away any time I want, you know."

Bernie flashed a look at Mike and winced at the boy, who was still grinning.

"I know," Bernie said and he realized he was trembling....

Touch me, he said, and then he hollered rape. Bernie trembled with the anger of injustice....

"Hey," Mike said and Bernie opened his eyes, recovering from his thoughts. The sight of Mike, his black hair glistening, still wet from the shower, seemed to wash away his mood of depression and suddenly Bernie felt good. The sun was shining and Mike was there and to hell with yesterday and tomorrow.

"What's up?" Bernie said.

"Are you gonna go pretty soon?"

"Yes, sir," Bernie said. "I'm going downtown. I work there, you know. What about your packing? Finished?"

"Almost. But my new rifle won't fit in the box."

"I told you to leave it in the closet. I'll send it Railway Express with the rest of the junk," Bernie said impatiently. "I don't know why I bought that damn gun in the first place. It hasn't even been fired yet."

"I'll need it when I get home," Mike said. "I'll be going pheasant hunting with my dad."

"That'll be the day!" Bernie said bitterly. "You put your clothes in the washer?"

"Yeah, they're washing now," Mike said. "Hey, you don't suppose you could drop me off at Sarah's on your way?"

"Yeah, sure." Bernie cursed under his breath, not at Mike, but at himself and the fact that everything was choking him.

"Well, will you?"

"What do you mean, 'on your way?'"

"Oh, forget it," Mike snapped.

"No, I'll take you there," Bernie said, "Only, don't say on your way when you know damn well it isn't!"

"I gotta borrow ten dollars, too."

Bernie stared at Mike for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. "Boy, boy, boy...." he said finally. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?" It was almost a whisper.

"Can I?"

"What for?"

"I can't tell you," Mike said. "I just need it."

"I see," Bernie said calmly. "Well, I'm sorry, I don't have it."

"You do, too."

"I said I don't."

"Well, you do!"

"Goddammit, Mike, I said I don't. You're telling me what I've got and what I haven't got?"

"You got six hundred dollars left in the bank."

"That's right," Bernie snapped. "I have six hundred dollars in the bank-minus the rent I just paid, minus my car payment and minus the hundred-and-ten bucks I just drew out for your train tickets tonight! What else do you want to tell me I've got?"

"Well, it's important," Mike said finally.

"I'm sorry," Bernie said, and he put out his palms to show Mike they were empty. "I don't have ten dollars-one tenth of my weekly salary-to put out for something when I don't even know what it's for!"

"Well, I can't tell you," Mike snapped.

"Then don't," Bernie said. "Tell someone else."

Bernie knew Mike didn't like asking him for anything. He could see his awkwardness. It hadn't always been like that ... At first Mike had wanted everything, including the moon. He wanted it now! But lately things were different. Now he just wanted to be out of there. Bernie knew that and he hated Mike for it. Mike couldn't wait to be out of there!

Now that the bank was closed, why stick around? How stupid did he think Bernie was? The little bitch! Squeezing him, bleeding him, right to the end! The bitch! Scum! Rotten Spick scum! Bernie knew it now. That's all Mike had ever wanted-a soft touch, a pansy to pay the bills and feed him and make his bed in exchange for a grin and a nod.

Leading him by the nose, luring him with a ridiculous bit of flesh dangling like a worm, and he thought Bernie was the fish. Laughing because he thought Bernie was the fish. But he was finding out ... Bernie didn't bite! He had found that out all right. Bernie never bit and Mike and his child bride could peddle their respective wares somewhere else.

"It's for Sarah," Mike said finally. "I have to take her to the doctor."

"Bullshit!"

"I do. I took her last week and now she has to go again."

"What's wrong with Sarah?"

"I don't know," Mike said. "It's woman's troubles."

"Woman's troubles?" Bernie laughed bitterly. "Now I have to pay for woman's troubles! He gets married and I have to pay for it!"

"Oh, forget it," Mike said hotly. "Just forget it!"

"Oh, yeah, sure." Bernie bolted up and headed up the short hallway to the small dressing room, extracted a bill from a large envelope in the top drawer of his bureau.

"There!" he said returning, dropping the money onto the counter. "There's my budget for the week."

"I don't want it," Mike said. He picked up the telephone and started dialing.

"Who are you phoning?"

"I'm calling the doctor to tell him we're not coming."

"Will you hang up the phone, please? It's on the table."

Bernie dropped onto the leather chair, staring at the drapes. Behind him Mike moved to the counter, picking up the bill. He stood awkwardly for a moment, then pushed the bill into his pocket.

"I'll pay you back," he said.

"Okay."

Mike headed for the door, then hesitated at the doorway. "Maybe I won't need it," he said. "If I don't, I'll bring it back."

"I'm not worried," Bernie said to the drapes. "Now go finish your laundry."

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

Bernie shook his head.

"Then why don't you look at me?"

"I said, go finish your laundry-and your packing."

"Okay," Mike said angrily. "Anyway, after tonight, you won't have to hear me ask for anything again!" He pulled the door violently after him and it slammed with a crash that jarred the drapes.