Hot Water Music by Charles Bukowski Page B

thinking a murdered thing should keep screaming, I don’t know.
    “Anyhow, I walked over to the kitchen sink and began vomiting. I vomited for a long time. Then I told Al that I had to get out of there. Wouldn’t you want to get out of there, Carl?”
    “Fast,” said Carl. “Very fast.”
    “Well, Al got in front of the door and he said, ‘Listen—that wasn’t murder. Nothing’s murder. All you’ve got to do is break through the ideas they’ve loaded on us and you’re a free man— free , you understand?’
    “‘Get the hell away from that door, Al—I’m getting out of here!’
    “He grabs me by the shirt and starts to rip my shirt. I hit him in the face but he keeps ripping at my shirt. I hit him again and again, but he doesn’t seem to feel anything. The Rams are still on tv. I step back from the door and then his wife runs up, she grabs me and starts to kiss me. I don’t know what to do. She’s a powerfully built woman. She knows all these nurses’ tricks. I try to push her off but can’t. Her mouth is on mine, she’s as crazy as he is. I begin to get a hard-on, I can’t help it. Her face isn’t so great but she has these legs and this big ass and she has on the tightest dress possible. She tastes like boiled onions and her tongue is fat and full of saliva, but she’s changed into this new dress—green—and as I pull the dress up I see her petticoat, blood-colored, and it really heats me up and I look over and Al has his cock out and watching.
    “I threw her on the couch and soon we were at it, Al standing over us and breathing heavily. We all made it together, a real trio, then I got up and began getting my clothes straight. I went into the bathroom and threw water on my face, combed my hair and came out. When I did they were both sitting on the couch watching the football game. Al had a beer open for me and I sat down and drank it and smoked a cigarette. Then that was all.
    “I got up and said I was going. They both said goodbye and Al told me to give them a call anytime. Then I was out of the apartment and into the street, and then I was in my car and driving away. And that was it.”
    “You didn’t go to the police?” asked the barkeep.
    “Well, you know, Carl, it’s hard—they kind of adopted me into the family. It wasn’t as if they were trying to hide anything from me.”
    “The way I look at it is that you’re an accessory to a murder.”
    “But what I got to thinking, Carl, is that those people really didn’t seem to be bad people. I’ve seen people I disliked a lot more who never killed anything. I don’t know, it’s really confusing. I even think of that guy in the freezer as some kind of big frozen rabbit…”
    The barkeep pulled the Luger out from under the bar and pointed it at Mel.
    “Okay,” he said, “you just freeze while I call the police.”
    “Look, Carl—this thing isn’t for you to decide.”
    “The hell it isn’t! I’m a citizen! You assholes just can’t go around popping people into freezers. I may be next!”
    “Look, Carl, look at me! I want to tell you something…”
    “Okay, go ahead.”
    “It was just bullshit.”
    “You mean what you told me?”
    “Yeah, it was just bullshit. One big joke. I sucked you in. Now put your gun away and pour us both a scotch and water.”
    “That story wasn’t bullshit.”
    “I just told you it was.”
    “That was no bullshit story—there was too much detail. Nobody tells a story like that. That’s no joke. Nobody jokes that way.”
    “I tell you it was bullshit , Carl.”
    “There’s no way I can believe that.”
    Carl reached over to his left to slide the phone down toward him. The phone had been sitting on the bar. When Carl reached to his left Mel grabbed the beer bottle and got Carl across the face with it. Carl dropped the gun and held his face and Mel jumped over the bar, hit him again—this time behind the ear—and Carl dropped. Mel picked up the Luger, aimed carefully, squeezed the