"We're going to be married in here. Sort of special ceremony after the church. O gee. I didn't want it to be like this. You like me, don't you."
"I do."
"Gosh, I know. I like you. Smithy it's your eyes. I don't know. I don't want to cut you out of my life. The part you were playing was swell."
"And small."
"Come on. It's important. But a guy, when you love him and you're his. Well like a rag doll. You get thrown in the corner when they're finished with you."
"I wouldn't throw you in the corner."
"Smithy, Jesus. That's what I'm thinking. O shit, that's what I'm thinking. Sorry about the language."
"That's all right."
"Just to avoid getting shunted by guys. I got a career. Wanted my freedom. I only got these looks for so long, I guess, to drive guys crazy. Aren't our flames nice there. Wish my body was big enough I could spread it around and you could have it too. Like could send it over to you when you needed it. You look sweet. Right now. Funny, you're always hanging around in my mind, in your crazy old clothes. With your quaint little problems. Glad you brought your mother with you."
"That's cruel."
"Who is she."
"A very old friend."
"She's pretty impressive, I'm only kidding about the age, she's pretty beautiful too. I'm jealous. Never seen you in evening clothes before. It's a revelation."
"Why do you sigh like that."
"I don't know Smithy. I throw guys over because they try to own me, I never threw you over. And gee, your invitation. There it is, resting here on the altar. It's great. Ha ha, I'm dying to get there."
"You're shivering. Miss Tomson."
"Yesh. Funniest thing. Keep thinking I'm carrying black lillies up the aisle."
Miss Tomson raising one eye brow. One smiling eye in her head. The other so sad. Looking slowly down Smith's elegance. Stopping at his fly and smiling. Smith laying a modest hand across.
"Miss Tomson, really."
"Gee Smithy, it's right there. Wow, I better turn on some music."
Tomson turning knobs. A control panel under a shelf of books. Faint drums and horns. She's so beautiful. Lights up the darkness of the room. Can I tell her. Save her. Say, Sally let me spill my blood. A bit. For you. So scared all those weeks you weren't there. That I was too small time. Too much of nothing and you were everything. With all the people you knew. My mangy little office. Horsehair sofa. A bath running rusty water. You lived so high up, it was a long way to reach you. Each time I phoned it rang in the distance. And I'd hear a ship's horn trumpeting in the river. Boop. Boop. I thought of the deep deep water and maybe you had gone away altogether. Then I got hard. Wished I was famous, wished I was the center of attraction with friends calling, going in and out of my life. And I said, and shouted, you were cheap and sham. Worth nothing, just a climbing bitch, sticking heels in faces. You are. Because you must. Do what you're doing. I'm married in all my chains. That in a big world, where we touched hands. Whispered. Told each other tiny sorrows. It's all there is. Can't ask for more. Because there is no more. Only a moment of feeling skin, your heart under your breasts, and screaming in your ear as you grabbed me by the simple arse. That was it.
"Sally, I don't want to lose you."
"O."
"I don't."
"Gee."
"I don't want to lose you."
"I know."
"You won't let me lose you."
"Smithy."
"I want to tell you."
"O.K."
"That if I lose you I have nothing left."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I could buy you."
"Could you."
"Yes."
"Gee."
"Can't give you a contract. But could give you laughs."
"Smithy, ha ha, yesh, you give me a chuckle, true."
"And it wouldn't be enough, would it."
"You're the most surprising guy. You don't know how close I'm to saying, yesh it's enough. Maybe I could fit you in in the afternoons."
'Would you."
"I don't want to lose you Smithy. I don't. I can't two time. I just can't. I'm funny people. I don't love this guy. But if I'm honest I'm not really taking him for his money either. Gee. Hear that. Boat in the river. Funny time to blow such a sad tune. Left all my guests. I don't care. For a minute anyway. Don't ebb. Jesus don't ebb."
"I will."
"I grew the hair under my arms. Just for you, because I knew you liked it. Not much I guess to do, to show affection. It nearly ruined my career."
"How did you know I liked that."
"I'm not telling you."
"You never told me there is a real AI Maygrain Diltor something."
"Gee, didn't I say he was a real guy."
"No."
"O.I know him."
"He sent me an invitation, Sally."
"I know. Don't ask me, it's a laugh."
Smith's head upon Tomson's soft bosom, ear against her breast, hard corner of a jewel. Her hand reaching in his hair. The beautiful danger of letting her nails near my eyes. As they touch, could claw. Lay the fingertips gently. Gently they lay.
"I want you, Smithy to stay in my life. I do. We're like two little kids standing here."
Swaying softly held together. Strains of a highland march. Buy her. Get what. But if you don't fight. If you don't go smashing in upon her heart and grab it in both hands, hold it tightly, make it squirm under the crushing fingers. Got to do that.
"I'll buy you."
"Smith what can you offer me. You' d give me money."
"Miss Tomson we're two wretched folk."
"You see Smithy, the price is so high. I want a father on tap for my kick. To play with them on the rug with trains. If you were giving me money. I mean, gee it would be miserable for you having to part with all the cash I would need. This is terrible talk. Between us. Because suddenly I'm not kidding. Maybe it's all because you haven't got brown eyes."
"I have the lonely green variety."
"O Smithy. Gee."
"MissT."
"Mr. S."
"Can you hear that sound, Miss T."
"No."
"It's me. Tip toeing."
"Where you going, you tip toeing."
"Out of your life."
"O no. Gee I sort of yelled didn't I."
"You did."
"We better go down."
Tomson holding Smith's hand tightly. Stepping up the steps out this temple room. To put an arm around, squeeze you ever so gently. I know that when I tip toe and go. You wanted me to stay. And so, when I go, it won't be as cold. A warmth I can wear. Your fingernails leave. Last thing of all. My steel heart snaps shut. Never open again. Painful asking what are you doing tomorrow, Sally, where are you today. Tyrant tide. Comes up to cover us. And you're tall. Golden gypsy. Running way up into the sky. Laughing and dry.
The sweet heart
In the lilly
All black
Or white
Like snow
24
THE square high vast room. Two A.M. More arrivals. Throats of pearl. Wrists of diamonds. Hearts of. Who knows. I'm throwing no pebbles. With vaults of bullion. And followed Miss Tomson down her spiral staircase back into the crowded voices. Hands reach out for Sally.
Slip away now behind her back because I feel a stranger. To hide. From people together like this. They see me. My myth gets shaken and shattered. Lift a morsel from this passing tray. Thank you. No spiders anywhere. My God Her Majesty is popular. No one coming to my little corner to ask me who I am. Who are you. I yam der yingle humperkink. Vas ist das. Nooding.
Winter air in the door from the terrace. Blazing logs under the head high marble mantel. And a portrait of Sally. Holding Goliath on lead, top a windswept bluff. Milkweed and stormy bright spring flowers. Poor Merry Mansions just hasn't got what it takes. Too late to buy the top tip of a building. Rent some cheap space under the water tank.