Chapter 4

"What I mean to tell you, Joe, is this: I want to be a woman, but a certain, special kind of woman."

Again he hesitated and now I thought I could, perhaps, fill in the missing pieces.

"What you're trying to tell me, Kent, is that you want to be a lesbian?"

He smiled, seeing the humor in it, the humor of irony. No doubt he had often turned over the problem in his own agile mind. And I had to admit to myself that it was a real problem, a bona fide problem. He wanted to have a woman, but he could not take one as a man. He had to take a woman in the guise of another woman. A complicated, roundabout method of human fulfillment, but one hwich I respected. Who was I to challenge the ego image of another?

"Well, what have you done about it so far, Kent? Anything?"

He shook his head. "Not very much, I can tell you."

"I guessed that already." My voice remained gentle. "But you must have made some forays into the lesbian world."

"It's not easy, you know. A man just doesn't walk in on them and settle down as one of the girls." He smiled with self-irony. "They don't always like men around, you know. Particularly a man who wants to make out."

"And what about outside of the United States? Hasn't it been better for you anywhere else?"

Kent shrugged. "The country I'm in doesn't seem to make any kind of difference. It's the old saw, you see. Wherever I go, I'm an intruder, an outsider. What it actually is," he said to me with strength of sincerity, "is that I'm a friend dressed in the sex of an enemy. Do you see that?"

I saw, too, that it wouldn't do him much good to dress up in the guise of a woman for, when it came down to the actual physical act itself, he would be in a worse position for having tried deceit.

In my own mind I paused. Kent did, in fact, have a dilemma. And I found myself becoming interested in trying to help him solve it.

"Well, Kent, I'm supposed to be going on vacation myself now."

"Don't do that," he said, with a little crooked smile. "Wait a while. I'll make it worth your time and effort."

"Of course you will," said I, with full assurance. "But what I was thinking was this: supposing we leave the States together and see what we can find for you in more obscure territory."

He laughed aloud now. "What are you going to do, find me a Sherpa?"

I joined him in the laugh. "No, that's not what I had in mind, exactly."

"Well, then, where?"

It was my turn to hesitate about giving him an answer. "I don't know, but we can look."

"You don't have any idea better than that for me?" His voice was taking on a tinge of hopelessness.

"I can think about it, though, with a clearer head than you have," said I with conviction. "That must count for something."

He thought his thoughts and mused aloud. "You wouldn't think that nature would make life so difficult. I am a man, after all. I can never forget that. In fact I rather enjoy being a man in some ways. But I just don't enjoy being a man with a woman. Funny kind of quirk, isn't it, to want to be a woman with a woman?"

"And there are many women who would so gladly change places with you, Kent."

"That would be something."

Again I paused. It would have been relatively simple if all Kent needed was to change his sex. But I knew that kind of operation wouldn't help him at all. He'd still have his own head on his shoulders, thinking his masculine thoughts and having his masculine feelings.

I finished my drink. "Look," I said, "Let me give this my consideration for a couple of days and see what I can dream up. I'll be in touch with you, Kent. All right?"

As I stood, he looked up at me with an expression that said that he was loath to let me go, that he was afraid that I might shove his problem aside or forget about it altogether and leave him stranded where he was. At the same time he could not very well stop me from leaving.

"You will call me then. You have my card."

"Yes, I promise you."

I left the bar and strolled the cool autumnal streets, feeling a real concern for my new acquaintance and for his needs. On the face of it there didn't seem much I could do. There were plenty of women I knew who would sleep with him readily, and men also. I could get him a boy of any age, most beautiful boys. But the problem lay, not with the people I might procure for Kent, but for the persons Kent, himself, was.

I had gotten about three blocks when I heard footsteps behind me, turned and saw the man there. He had been unable to part with me and, after a struggle, had given in and trailed after.

"Well, now," I said, pausing for him to catch up with me. "What good is this going to do you?"

He didn't try to offer excuses or apologize for making a nuisance of himself.

"Look, if you really want to go to Europe, I'll go with you. I don't care."

"I'm not running away from you, Kent," I said. "My word is good."

"I wasn't questioning it."

"Then what?"

"I just can't seem to let you go. Now that I've told you everything, it's like I've given myself over to you."

"All right," I said. "I understand. You want to come home with me. Come along."

I took Kent back to my apartment where he behaved himself quite well and unobtrusively, playing the piano, reading books, even fixing breakfast the next couple of days while I went about my usual business. There seemed some relief for him simply in being away from his normal environment. Being away from the accustomed routine gave him a chance to relax with his being. His company became a pleasure, even though the problem hovered always overhead.

Slowly and carefully I went through my mental file of all the women with whom I dealt, trying to uncover the one whose psychology could accept Kent as a combination male-female lover. I knew that many of them would be able to put on a good enough act, if any act could be called good enough. But I knew Kent couldn't settle for that, that it could not fulfill him. He did not wish to be humored in his desire. He wished, as all of us do, to be accepted.

On the night of the third day my telephone rang and the woman's voice was one I had not heard for years.

"Dorris," I said, "Dorris, you just dropped down into my life from heaven."

"Glad to hear that, Joe, but why?"

I did not explain to her on the telephone but asked her to come pay me a visit. She had been a client of mine, once, in the early stages of her marriage, as a convenience. She was a lesbian and had known it then but had not wanted it to interfere with her equal and opposite need for a normal life. She had wanted a husband, the status of marriage and all the trappings of convention. At the same time she had known her own proclivity and had settled her problem peacefully by coming to me for one-night stands with women who could make no demands upon her personal life. Our relationship had been a good one, profitable to us both, and her telephone call tonight was by way of telling me that her homosexual need was in the ascendance again and she would placate it as rapidly as possible so that she might return to her other, more secure world in peace.

I did not immediately figure out how I was going to work out a relationship between

Dorris and Kent. I knew that Dorris would resent my palming off a man on her, of all things. A man she could get any time and, indeed, had a very good one all her own. Nevertheless, I felt that there was some connection to be made between these two people and I felt that I had better follow the nose of my intuition, rather than pseudo-facts of logic. I had learned to trust my feelings, my intuition, and my experience with human nature regardless of how foolish or hopeless or irrelevant the action might seem at the moment of initiation.

Dorris, who was in New York for the weekend, accepted my invitation to come over that night with unconcealed eagerness.

"You have a woman for me, don't you?" she said. "I can feel it in your voice. Tell me about her."

"Not over the phone, my darling. Come on over and I'll tell you then."

The receiver clicked down in my ear. I sat staring at the sapphire pink earring I had taken to wearing lately and felt the mind remain stubbornly a blank as to how to further proceed.

Kent said, "I suppose you want the place to yourself tonight, don't you, Joe?"

I shook my head. "Stay," I said. "You'll enjoy the woman who's coming over. She has quite a head and a great personality, Kent. You'll like her, I'm sure, and I know she'll like you."

I was talking in the dark, yet my voice echoed with a firmness of conviction which seemed to be battering at the stronghold of reason.

Kent didn't need any coaxing to stay. The apartment was a nest for him. Besides, he was curious, I suppose, to meet a woman who was coming to me for business purposes. The idea intrigued him and he knew that he was about to meet a lesbian of means and poise. Probably she would be a person very different from the homosexuals he had met or known in the past. This was the possibility that I think we both counted upon to make some kind of difference in his life, but neither of us could specify exactly how.

Kent became excited as a child and went off to take a shower with a springy step. I smiled to myself at the sense of youth and hope that motivated him, whether he knew it or not. There would have to be a happy ending to his problem, I decided then and there. I liked him and his perversity seemed to have been placed under my personal jurisdiction.

I had no idea where Dorris had called me from but she seemed to be taking her time in arriving. I had not known her to be a woman late for appointments. If anything, she was quite punctual, if not early. After all, in coming to me she was coming to something good and would step around all obstacles and delays with utter and profound pleasure.

For one thing, she had changed her style of dressing. Even the appearance of her body had changed, metamorphosed from a sturdy girl to a slender, sophisticated woman. She wore a beige suit and carried herself erectly, but with ease, polished ease developed gradually through years of secure living. Her hair, as always, was closely cropped but soft, curling around the ears and combed into a diagonal wisp of bangs over her high, intelligent forehead. She had, years ago, worn glasses. But they were gone now, transformed into contact lenses that increased the perspicuity of her expression. She had a high color in her cheeks, probably from walking, and she walked past me now into the apartment, making herself at home, setting down her alligator handbag on one of the coffee tables and opening her jacket which I helped her slip off. The blouse beneath fell softly about her elegant form. Her tits did not bounce as much now as they had but were held in place by a well-tailored bra, emphasizing the loveliness of her femininity. Apparently through the years she had come to respect and enjoy her identity as a woman and felt more sure of herself, too.

"Dorris, you're truly beautiful," I said. "What happened to you?"

She laughed at my left-handed compliment. "I guess it's just years," she replied, pulling off her soft leather gloves, finger by finger. "How long can you fight something? I just gave in and I feel better for it."

I nodded. "Well, I'm glad," I said, kissing her on either cheek. "And what can I do for you?"

"Oh, the usual."

"Exactly the usual?"

Her chuckle became a smile. "Well, maybe I have some few small changes in my taste these days."

"I'll be glad to hear them. What can I get you to drink?"

"Oh, just a tonic and lime juice," she said. "No liquor, please."

"You off that stuff?"

"I don't need the calories," she smiled.

"You look like you know exactly how to take care of yourself, Dorris."

"I'm learning."

We settled down comfortably into opposite ' but facing club chairs and we both stretched out our legs, at ease with each other and glad to be together, for our business relationship went deeper than the mere transaction of business and both of us knew it and were glad for the experience.

"I've been dreaming about a girl," she began.

"Someone I know?"

"No one even I know. Just a dream."

"Well, it's my business to fulfill dreams, Dorris. Tell me about it."

"It's really hard to capture in words, Joe, you know. Let's see. I'll try. The first quality is attentiveness. I want someone who will really listen to me, if you can find such a creature. A person with two ears and a responsive brain between them."

"And the body?"

"Well, the body is really secondary. I know you'll find me someone shapely, of course, but I couldn't care less about the color of hair and complexion, and that sort of thing. I'm more interested in the personality this time."

"You sound like you're looking for some kind of," I hesitated, "relationship."

Dorris blushed. She did not stop looking at me though, through her immediate embarrassment. "Maybe that's exactly what I want." She sipped her tonic and touched her finger to the floating piece of lime. "Maybe that's what I need. Something to last me for the duration."

"Of your life?"

"Why not? I'd like to set up some girl close enough to be accessible yet far enough not to be a threat to my home life."

"You'll pay her on a monthly basis?"

"I have the means to do it, Joe. That's why I've come to you."

"Well, go on. Have you anything more to tell me?"

"Lots, Joe. Lots." She grinned. "These are the characteristics. She has to be good at sports. I mean, I'll need a companion to come with me skiing, you see, or in the winter time swimming when I travel south."

"That sounds like a healthy relationship."

"Well, it's a good beginning, isn't it?" She set the glass down beside her and examined her cuticles. "There's another couple of qualities, also, if you can find them. Someone who can take care of the secretarial chores I might have for her."

"I thought you didn't want a girl close to home."

"Well, you see, I'm vacillating already," she laughed at herself. "You want a wife."

"No, no, no." Her words were firm, clipped, like chops of an axe to stubborn wood.

"Why are you so sure of that?"

"I can't afford it, Joe. I may want it, but I can't afford it. No, no, no," she repeated.

"You're still afraid, Dorris."

"I'll always be afraid. It's like being an addict, being a homosexual. I mean, you stay away from it for years but the yen never leaves you. You know, I could come very close to making a fool of myself without half trying and that's the very thing I must avoid."

I took a deep breath. "Tell me, Dorris, have you had children during these years?"

She nodded. "One, a boy. He's away at school, though. His father wanted to get him started in a career early."

"And you had no say in the matter?"

"I didn't want to interfere. I don't think I'm qualified when it comes to men to know what's good for them."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Dorris. You're qualified for lots more than you imagine. But, of course, that's not going to help you here tonight, is it? Let's reconnoiter. You want an athletic, companionable, and no doubt respctable girl whom you can keep about or not without any tongues wagging by spiteful neighbors or husband's vested interests such as your own."

"Joe, you understand me exactly," she said with satisfaction, and leaned her head back against the over-stuffed cushion of the chair. She stared at the ceiling for a few moments. "That would be ideal, Joe. Do you have anyone for me?"

"You know what's peculiar, Dorris, is that you haven't mentioned a word about love and I have the feeling you're tripping over in that direction just now."

"I wouldn't dare."

"You might, without realizing it, you see."

"I have my rules and I play by them, Joe. I have no intention of falling in love but I have every intention of enjoying my life in a casual, fulfilling manner. I spent enough years being the perfect wife. I've stayed away from women. I've even stayed away from thinking about them as much as I could. I've given all to my home and now that the boy is away at school and my husband does the amount of traveling he has to do for business, I see no reason why I should not begin to set in order my own feelings and cater to them a little bit. I think they deserve my attention."

"Or they might desert you?"

"You never can tell," she said, nodding.

"And you don't want to die anonymous."

"Anonymous. That's a funny word, Joe. Why do you use that?"

I began! to think then about Kent, whose shower water had just ceased running. He would be into the living room soon and I had not yet mentioned a word to Dorris about what kind of man she would be meeting.

"Well, Dorris," I said, "you'll have to give me a few days to go over this matter thoroughly and come up with exactly the right woman for you. I just don't want to toss anyone into your lap since this is taking on a certain seriousness in your mind which I hadn't expected."

"Take all the time you want, Joe. That's how you are and that's what makes you worthwhile, finally. You don't rush into things. You don't toss people around as though they were so many beads running loose from a broken string. Yes. Take your time. Take your time."

She was quite right about me. My eagerness had long since ceased to function as a substitute for good sense. And now I cautiously began to introduce the advent of Kent T. into our midst.

"Well, I knew you weren't along the minute I walked in here," Dorris said, without the faintest hint of annoyance. "I didn't expect to barge into your life and find you one hundred percent ready and waiting for me alone. I'm not that self-centered or unrealistic. So tell me about your friend Kent. What is he like?"

This was my opportunity to put Kent's psyche out on the table for Dorris to explore with me. Perhaps she might have some suggestions on the matter, yet I hesitated. Some sixth sense told me not to divulge everything right away, to let Dorris find out gradually for herself and respond naturally in a growing sort of way as people must if they are to accomplish anything solid.

The question I asked myself at this time was why I so completely took for granted that Dorris and Kent would have a world in common and that they should know each other. But I did. I took it for granted and I tell you I felt like a matchmaker more than a pimp that night. Of course a good pimp is a matchmaker, in the ideal situation, for even though he makes most of his money on quick turnovers, a long run relationship can yield him a steady profit, too, without an extra added investment of time, but with an extra added yield of personal satisfaction in having done something continually constructive.

I told Dorris about Kent's status in the business world and about his personal appearance, that he liked athletics, and seemed quite agreeable.

"So you've only met him tonight."

"No, a couple of days ago."

"Well, you speak about him as though he's some kind of new toy, Joe."

Her voice had a tinge of challenge and annoyance in it and it occurred to me that here was Dorris, being protective of someone she had not yet met. On top of that, being protective of him against me. I sat back and studied her face. What was she doing? What was she feeling? And why?

"Maybe you're right,"I said. "Maybe he is a toy."

"How can you do that to a person? You, Joe, of all people. How can you make a person an object?"

"Is that what I'm doing?"

I knew very well what I was doing. But I didn't want Dorris to see it just yet. I rather enjoyed the rise of her human patriotism against me, the enemy. It seemed to indicate that I had said something about Kent which pleased her.

Or had I said something against myself which displeased her?

No. The latter was not too likely. She knew me well enough, closely enough, not to transform her opinion of me based on a couple of quick sentences concerning a mutual stranger. The better conclusion seemed to be that I had inadvertently stumbled on a description of Kent which appealed to her.

I couldn't have done better had I tried, I realized, and I decided to shut my mouth on the subject rather than run the risk of neutralizing the good I had already effected.

Dorris, however, was not on to her own responses and soon the subject changed from Kent back to women and Dorris began to pump her here and there in the hope of dredging up a name or a face which might not have occurred to me as yet.

I was willing to cooperate. I wanted the best woman possible for Dorris, as usual. She deserved the best. The more I thought about it the more I realized that the girls I knew were all transient types. I had never had an opportunity to place any of them in positions of apparent permanence. Those who had been of an aptitude for a single steady affair where already ensconced. What I would have to do for Dorris was to plow a new field. This, we both knew, must take time, perhaps exploration. Yet she had come to me for someone now. That was my job. That was the good I could do her. If she had to wait, she might just as well go looking on her own, probably already had.

We sat facing each other with friendly yet blank expressions when Kent came into the room.

From where I sat I could see their instant response to each other. Dorris's lips and eyes smiled with habitual friendly courtesy that went skin deep only. She leaned forward in her chair and extended her hand for greeting.

Kent, perhaps the more sensitive of the two, realized her disappointment but I didn't know whether he understood why she was disappointed, whether he realized that she would have preferred for him to be a woman. I really wished I could tell him this for I knew it would give him more confidence.

He fixed himself a drink and by the time he finished it, Dorris was already making motions to leave. She did not seem abrupt about it yet made it clear to me that since we already understood each other and what she had come for, there was no reason to stay here in the company of another man.

I saw her to the door and promised her that I would do my best to find the kind of person she needed.

She told me the name of the hotel where she was staying for the next week. "I hope you'll get in touch with me," she said.

I kissed her on the cheek. "I know I will."

I closed the door and went back to Kent.

"Well, you see," he said, "Lesbians run away from me."

I smiled. "How did you know about her."

"Oh, I felt it."

"Well, I suppose you're right," I sighed, and we both fell into the silence once again of his dilemma.

I lay awake that night staring into the dark. This was the first time in a long while that I was being confronted with the problems of two people as difficult as Dorris and Kent. I kept asking myself why I thought I could make a match between them of all people, particularly since I knew that Dorris certainly didn't want a man. She did have a husband, after all, and probably had tried to work something out with him these many years. Still, I couldn't help feeling that Kent could fill her every need and that her lesbian inclination was more one of psychology than pure physical desire.

Sometimes it is part of a pimp's job to enlighten his clients about themselves, for the pimp can see more objectively. And if, in fact, he is a good pimp, doing his job well, his intuition is intense and sensitive.

I am better able, somehow, to think outdoors while walking and the next day I took myself out onto the streets to let my mind wander far afield from the subject of Dorris and Kent. The air was cool and good for walking. I don't know how many hours passed before I found myself on the West Side, where I paused almost absentmindedly to watch a new building going up. New York is a city of change and continual restructuring of its skyline is congenial with my own nature, for I am not one who enjoys staying in the same routine for very long. Noontime came and passed. Toward the end of the day I had covered many blocks and felt inclined to sit for a while on one of the benches outside of Central Park.

The evening's action had already begun. People strolling back and forth, looking for each other with covert, yet hungry faces. I had little expectation of picking up anyone here who might be suitable for either Dorris or Kent, yet a sixth sense kept me watching.

Suddenly I heard an outburst of dog barks and the frantic ringing of a bicycle bell. I turned my head and saw a young Doberman pinscher jumping at the front wheel of a bicycle being slowly pedaled along the curb.

The cyclist was a young girl in turtleneck and jeans, tits waving ingesticaly out in front of her, frantically turning the handlebars this way and that, trying to get away from the dog's playful attack. But because she had to slow down almost completely, the bicycle tipped over and she fell to one side. The dog, intrigued with his new toy, began to paw and chew the wheel spokes while the girl looked around for the dog's owner who was nowhere in sight.

She wasn't at all hurt, only annoyed. It was an amusing scene to me, watching her try to get the dog away from the bike. The more she pulled and pushed him, the greater became his energetic playfulness and soon he was nipping at her ankles, jumping this way and that. He barked and pawed her, too. Obviously she wasn't afraid of him and finally caught hold of his chain collar and pulled him away. But the minute she let go of him he was at her again and she seemed stranded there between her bicycle and the Doberman.

The more I looked at her the more attractive she became. She had her dark hair in pigtails and wore large round glasses in a light blue frame. Her skin had the creamy tone of youth with two high spots of color from the cycling. Her light blue turtle-neck fit loosely but could not hide the fullness of young, ready breasts. And, of course, the tight-fitting jeans showed off her supple, rather, sturdy physique.

I liked her looks and I liked her spirit.

I rose from the bench and went over to see if I could help at all.

She didn't notice me when I approached. She was too busy for that. I got up close, bent and grabbed the dog by his collar and yanked him back.

"You ought to keep your dog on a leash," she said, half angry, half flippant. "Unless you want him run over or something."

She spoke well and easily, with a certain charm that attracted my attention.

"I would," I said, "if he were mine."

Suddenly she caught my full meaning and the rosy spots on her cheeks deepened and spread. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought he was yours."

Some minutes had passed and still no owner. I told the girl to go on and I would stay with the dog until somebody came for him, but she refused.

"I won't leave you alone with that monster," she laughed. "You might be stuck here all day." Her voice was pure consideration for me now. I realized that this girl had a wealth of consideration just waiting to be tapped and appreciated by the right lover. I could almost believe that she was a virgin.

She leaned on the bicycle against a tree and stood with me, both of us waiting for the appearance of the dog's negligent master.

She bent over and stroked his head down between his ears. "He doesn't seem to miss his master," she said, "and I guess I don't blame him."

We were both squatting on either side of the animal. I turned the collar around looking for the ASPCA tag and perhaps some other mark of identification.

"Look, Here's a name and address," she said. "Maybe we ought to take him back home."

The thought occurred to us both simultaneously that perhaps the dog had run off.

I read the address aloud. The house number was not too far from where we stood.

"It will only take me a few minutes," I said. "I'll return."

"You need a leash." She began to unbuckle the belt of her jeans. "Here, take this."

"Okay, thanks. I'll return it to you."

She nodded. "I'll wait here."