Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr by Hubert Selby Jr.

never
happened back home. But it is exciting and he is so manly; and Lee
said she was terribly sorry, I didnt mean to upset you dear. Its just
that Tonys place is so dreary, with the electricity turned off and
everything, and I guess I just have the rag on tonight anyway, so
they kissed and made up, and they all helped finish the bouillon
(with a few more bennie) gathered the gin and bennie and went
downstairs, the guys stumbling behind, not sure exactly what was
happening but having kicks and too high to care, and walked into
Tonys apartment.
    She was sleeping so Goldie lit a few candles and told
her Sheila was turning a trick so they had to come down here and Im
sure you dont mind honey, handing her some bennie, and told Rosie to
make coffee. Rosie ht the small kerosene stove in the kitchen and put
on a pot of coffee. When it was ready she passed out paper cups of
coffee then went back to the kitchen and made another pot, continuing
to make pot after pot of coffee, coming in inbetween to sit at
Goldies feet. The guys slowly snapped out of the tea goof and soon
the bennie got to their tongues too and everybody yakked. Goldie said
she felt ever so much better. I guess I needed a good cry and she
passed around the bennie again and they all popped bennie and sipped
hot coffee and Goldie sat next to Malfie and asked him if he was
enjoying himself, and he said yeah, Im havin a ball; and Goldie just
floated along on a soft purple cloud, feeling luxurious and slightly
smug: a handsome piece of trade beside her; wonderful girl friends;
and a beautiful bennie connection in the corner drugstore where she
could get a dozen 10 grain tablets for 50cents. O this is divine. I
mean the candlelight and everything . . . it brings to mind Genet.
Genet? I fail to see how this reminds you of her. Whose this junay? A
french writer Vinnie. I am certain you would not know about such
things—I really dont see how all this gloom reminds you of Genet
(Georgette looked at Lee as she talked and glanced at Vinnie and
sighed. Vinnie will never have anything to do with her after that
remark). I mean she is so beautiful. Well that is exactly what I mean
darling. She creates such beauty out of the tortured darkness of our
souls—O well, yes. That is true enough—and I feel so beautiful.
Hey! wheres the shithouse. Georgette jumped up (Camille was shocked
and looked askance) and said it is outside. I will show you. Vinnie
walked past her, patted her on the ass. Thats o k sweetchips, I can
find it. Georgette whirled slightly and sat down, smiling and
chalking another one up. O it will be so wonderful . . . later. Rosie
was passing more coffee around and Harry asked her if she blew cock
and she fell back spilling some of the coffee. Goldie told her to be
more careful, you might have burned someone, and Rosie wailed and
buried her head in Goldies lap and Goldie told her it was alright.
Nobody was hurt. You can continue serving the coffee, and Rosie
smiled a smile of salvation and stepped over the feet and passed out
the coffee; and Georgette looked at the tears slowly streaking Rosies
face and glistening in the sepia room; and Harry thought it might be
kicks ta sloff it inna weird dame like that. Whattsa matta Rosie?
afraida my lob? Rosie backed out of the room and Harry laughed and
asked the guys if they saw the look oner face. Man, shes a real
weirdy. Whered yapick that up? Goldie said she found her somewhere
and Camille went out to the kitchen to see if Rosie was alright,
thinking Harry was terribly cruel and Goldie should not let them do
that to her. She did not see Rosie immediately and stared at the low
blue flame of the kerosene stove, the perking coffee looking like a
witches brew. Then she saw Rosie sitting in the corner, her head
resting on her knees. Camille was nervous, but felt she should try to
comfort her. She called softly, tentatively, then stood silent for a
moment listening to the coffee perking, the strong rhythm broken
every third or fourth