"They're not all like that!" Laurie's heart was beating really fast. She knew her face was getting red,like it always did when she was mad.
"Bullshit!" Sue drawled, and looked sideways at Chrissy, cracking her up. It suddenly dawned on Laurie that she was being baited, that Sue was getting her worked up and sharing the joke with Chrissy.Her eyes hurt like she was going to cry, but she didn't let the tears out. Her old bear was still on the bed,and she picked him up and squeezed him tight.Chrissy seemed to see how upset she really was, because she sat up suddenly and changed the subject.
"So. What now?" she asked brightly, sending Laurie a brief look that said sorry. But she didn't say it out loud, Laurie thought bitterly. Not in front of her new friend.
"What now?" Sue echoed. She leaned over and deliberately stubbed her cigarette out against the soft furry leaves of the violet instead of on the saucer.Laurie gritted her teeth, trying not to show her anger,but the little smile on Sue's mouth showed she knew she had scored. "Now nothing, Chrissy. Your little friend blew it. If I take you to meet the Lady and Her friends with less than fifty bucks, they'll laugh in my face. The Lady expects presents from Her friends. You wanta be Her friend and be in with Her, you gotta bring Her presents. Money and jewelry and stuff."
"Well, maybe I don't wanna be Her friend!" Laurie broke in.
"Fine with me. Miss Piggy," Sue said, and Chrissy cracked up. It took a few seconds for Laurie to catch the joke. Then, "Get the hell out of my house!" she cried out.
"Fine with me," Sue said slowly. She got up lazily,looked around the room in disdain. "I'm a little tired of sitting around in the nursery, anyway. You coming, Chrissy, or you want to stay here and play Barbies?"
Chrissy looked trapped. "I'll be along, I guess,"she said lamely. "In a little while. I gotta get my stuff."
"Yeah. Sure. Well, better hurry, kid, cause I ain't waiting. I got other things to do. See ya around. Miss Piggy." Sue drifted out of the room, and a few seconds later Laurie heard the front door slam,
"Great, Laurie, you really blew it for us!" Chrissy huffed as she grabbed up her bookbag and coat.
"I blew it? What do you want to go around with someone like that for? She's awful!"
"Not usually. She was just pissed because you didn't get the money- Usually she's really cool, and you should see her boyfriend's car! Talk about rad!On the freeway, night before last, he got it up to a hundred and twenty! And then he turned off the headlights! It was like flying in the dark. Oh, Laurie,you got to get that money, so you can come with us.You should see the stuff that Lady gives her. Jewelry like you wouldn't believe, and this scarf, it looks black, but when you shake it, it's silver! And…Look! I gotta go, because she won't wait for me. But I'll tell her you were sorry, that you were feeling sick or something. And I'll try to get the rest of the money,'cause we've just got to meet this Lady. Usually, you got to be at least a senior to be invited, so we're really lucky."
Motormouth Chrissy was still talking as she wrapped her scarf around her neck and left the bedroom. Laurie didn't bother walking her to the door;
Chrissy didn't notice. Some best friend. Ever since she met that Sue, she'd been acting like a jerk. As soon as Laurie heard the door shut, she got up and took the cigarette butt out of her plant. It was the new one, too, the one that was supposed to have double blossoms. A burnt hole gaped angrily in the soft green leaf. Laurie carefully pinched it off, and carried both cigarette butt and leaf into the bathroom, where she flushed them down the toilet.
Old woman, it's only
A false joy you bring,
Old woman upon your hand
I see a death's-head ring.
Old woman, it's our winter.
We'll never see a spring.
Old woman, it's time to cry.
Why must you still sing?
"BLACKENED FACE"
The cab driver was a fat man who reminded her of Jackie Gleason, which made his deep, gravelly voice quite startling. When she told him where she wanted to be taken he didn't say anything, but gave her a quick, speculative look in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb. During the ride, which,because of the Veterans' Day traffic, took half an hour,she paid little attention to the area they were passing through. She let her mind drift, free associating, finding melodies in the whine of passing cars and patterns in the cracks along the streets.
He let her off at a comer where an old black mans old newspapers and shoeshines in front of a grocer whose green and yellow produce lay in bushel baskets below the barred storefront. The thought of trying to connive her way out of paying the fare popped up unbidden from her childhood, and she tipped the driver lavishly by way of putting the thought back where it belonged. She wondered at it, though- Was it a sign of age, or was there significance to this unexpected recurrence of the old ways?
The cab roared off; she sniffed, as if hoping to catch a scent, and began walking east down the block, because it seemed to be slightly downhill. She knew that what she sought was around here somewhere,and she would find it more quickly and easily on her feet, slow as they were. They hadn't always been slow. Once she had danced. Once she had danced well enough to earn-
Stop now, she told herself firmly. Fools live in the past, as saints live in the future. It was her lot to feel the waves from one-she couldn't afford to let her mind remain in the other.
Children played in the street, and didn't see her,because she had nothing to do with their world. She passed men and women her own age, all of whom were so wrapped up in their dreams that they never looked outside themselves. She came to the place she had Seen, and the excitement of a true Seeing was far back in her mind. The scene before her held a promise and a threat, and she could almost taste them both on her tongue, sour and juicy as lemon, fear and pleasure.
She identified the hotel by its neon sign, which was mostly burned out, then looked around briefly. It was on a hill, and the side she could see was done in peeling red paint. It had a single door, also red, that was no bigger than the door to a house and had no window. She felt almost young again as she pushed it open and entered the lobby.
TWO
The Wolf and the Gypsy
The city is a cesspool,
my apartment is a mess.
You say you got a problem,
just give me your address.
STEPDOWN
"Hell of a thing," said the hotel manager. He wiped his shining forehead with a dirty hanky, dragging it roughly across two ripely swollen pimples. He shifted around, glancing at the body, and away, shying like a nervous horse. Guy was too young to be managing a flop house. Stepovich could tell the kid felt ill, but that being here made him feel so important he couldn't stand to leave. This poor old woman leaking blood onto the hotel's cheap carpeting was probably the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him.
"Think they raped her?" The kid scrubbed at his forehead again, scratched at one of the zits, then absently squeezed it. Stepovich looked away. He'd rather look at the body.
"Sure," Durand said, heavily sarcastic. "What man wouldn't get it up for her? I mean, the streets are crawling with granny bangers, aren't they?"
"Shut up." They made him tired, both of them.