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

from the same
glass as a fag) so she filled a paper cup for him, hoping this would
not alter the score and glanced at Lee but she did not seem to
notice; and Tony said thank you after taking a bennie and wondered if
they would share their trade with her and trying desperately to think
of something to say or do that would draw everyones attention to her
and make them aware of her presence and perhaps Goldie would be
grateful and one of the men would find her attractive. She looked
around the room, smiling and rapidly blinking her eyes . . . then
jumped up and jerked open a drawer and took out a new candle. She
slammed the drawer closed and tripped lightly to the candle that was
burned to the bottom, lit the new one and placed it carefully over
the old one. There, that is much better, then sat down happily and
beaming at Goldie certain she would appreciate the act.
    Everyone stared at the new candle and the shadows the
jerking flame created, still speaking softly, still smoking, still
sipping coffee and gin; watching the top soften and the first little
drop of wax seep to the edge and stagger down the side of the candle,
the wick glowing brighter and redder in the middle of the flame . . .
then another drop rolled to the first; and another started a new
stream as the flame bent and the edge sloped away and soon many
little drops were rolling down and piling up and flowing down the
side of the candle and everyone relaxed even more, calmed by the new
flame and slightly enervated by the laughing, and they sat deeper in
their seats and the guys stretched their legs even more and the girls
became softer and more coy; and their eyes eventually strayed from
the flame and everything seemed softer and even Lee felt she was a
part of the group and turned in her seat and faced the others and
started telling little tidbits about backstage life and soon they all
joined in and when someone was not talking they were listening to two
or three stories being told at once. Lee told them about how almost
all actors are gay (and even most of the church officials—and you
know who honey), and how the cast of one of the revues she was
starring in were pickedup and the club closed because they were all
blasting backstage— and their hands fluttered about and the guys
flipped their ashes—and I am telling you it was a scream. Caldonia
was just so high—I mean she had been drinking like crazy for hours
and she struts around Broadway and 45th st. crowing like a rooster,
COCKadoodledo COCKadoodledo—Im not shittinya, he was caught fuckin
a stiff. He was in the El witme. He worked inna hospital, you know,
in the morgue, and this nice lookin young head croaks so he throws a
hump inner—Rosie refilled all the cups and ran back to the kitchen
when Harry lunged for her snatch, and sat in the corner with her head
on her knees—well, you think you have weird Johns . . . well, I
have one that makes me beat him with his belt—O that is just
masochism honey— O I know that, but I have to be wearing a bra—ice
blue with lace and panties to match, and stockings and a garter belt
and he rubs his hands up and down my legs and snaps the garters until
I am just black and blue and by the time he comes I can hardly move
my arm—we got a weirdy like that in the neighborhood. He owns a
beauty shop in the 80s on third and comes around a couple a nights a
week— yeah, yeah, I know the guy. Hes got a new Dodge. Green. Yeah.
And he picks up somea the kids and takesem for a ride and paysem a
quarter ta fart—Tony kept leaning forward more and more, listening,
laughing, making certain that each one was aware that she was
listening to their story and enjoying it; trying to think of some
little anecdote she could tell, some funny little thing that had
happened or she had seen ... or even something in a movie . . . she
refilled her glass with gin, smiling at Goldie; nodded, smiled,
laughed, still trying to think of something funny, even slightly
humorous, thumbing through