associate with any daughter of mine! Filth!”
“Good night, Pop.”
“You stay away from the likes of them, do you hear? Even in school! Keep your distance from their kind.” “All right, Pop. Good night.”
In her bedroom, after she has undressed and brushed her black hair, and turned her blankets back, Anita takes the paper napkin from her pocketbook, and looks at the picture, a faint smile playing on her mouth. She tries to say the Spanish words, mispronouncing them. She whispers:
No sabe como te quiero;
puzzling over their meaning. From a popular song she had heard, she knows
yo te amo
means “I love you;” but what do these words say?
No sabe come te quiero.
Turning the napkin over, Anita looks at the little game she had played with herself, after he had stalked out. It was a game where you wrote down two names; crossed out any letters in each which were the same; and then with the remaining letters in each, you said: “Love, marriage, friendship, hate,” in that order. Both had come out
love.
She sits on the bed hugging her knees; remembering his eyes, how they had watched her; and how he had said her name — Nita.
• • •
Babe Limon rolls over in the narrow bed set against the wall in the one-room apartment on Madison and 106th. The red neon sign from the bar beneath her shines in, showing the shabby furnishings. Babe sighs and pushes a curler back around a lock of her hair. “You still awake, Babe?”
Beside her, Marie Lorenzi lies, dressed in bra and panties. Babe wears a faded pink slip.
“Yeah. It’s two o’clock.”
“You think your old lady’s coming home tonight?”
“I told you I doubt it!”
“Well, don’t bite my head off. I didn’t want to stay over. Could of slept at home just as well!”
“If she does come home, I can push the chairs together…. She won’t.”
“Where is she? Downstairs?”
“Who knows? Maybe at my aunt’s.”
“You still thinking about Gober?”
“What if I am!”
“What’s so hard to forget! Cripes, I seen a million Gobers!”
“You don’t know — ”
“Don’t know what?”
“The way Gober could be, is all.”
“How could he be?”
“Well, before all this, you know? When I was first going with him he used to be special about me. Geez, I don’t know, Marie. He used to call me Princess. He used to tell me I was a princess.”
“Gober?”
“Yeah. I wish you knew him. I mean, I know lotsa guys, but till Gober come into my life, I never felt like anything. That’s what steams me, Marie. I always felt like something because of him, and now because of how he’s been acting lately, I feel like nothing. I mean, what he said about me washing my face, and the thing about the cat. Like I was nobody.”
Marie leans across Babe and grabs for her package of cigarettes on the chair, on the top of the pile of their clothing. She passes one to Babe, and they light up, blowing smoke out into the stuffy air of the room. Marie lets the cigarette dangle from her lips, and props her arms up behind her head as she lies there talking.
“How old were you the first time, Babe?”
“Twelve. Thirteen. I don’t know … How old were you?”
“Fourteen. It happened in a line-up. Eight guys, and me howling my lungs out. S’funny, it never occurred to me it’d hurt so damn much. S’funny — even hurting like it did, I remember something that hurt a lot more that night.”
“Yeah? What?”
“These guys were paying fifty cents, see. I was making four dollars. Cripes, I was so scared and just lying there wishing I was dead instead of there, and hoping it’d be over soon. This one guy looks down at me and says, ‘I wouldn’t pay a nickle for this piece! It’s got pimples, and it’s flat as I am!’ “ Marie exhales a cloud of smoke. “I never forgot that. I was just a kid. I didn’t even know what I was doing. My brother — you know Al — he arranged it, and I couldn’t believe I’d get four dollars for just letting some guys
“Good night, Pop.”
“You stay away from the likes of them, do you hear? Even in school! Keep your distance from their kind.” “All right, Pop. Good night.”
In her bedroom, after she has undressed and brushed her black hair, and turned her blankets back, Anita takes the paper napkin from her pocketbook, and looks at the picture, a faint smile playing on her mouth. She tries to say the Spanish words, mispronouncing them. She whispers:
No sabe como te quiero;
puzzling over their meaning. From a popular song she had heard, she knows
yo te amo
means “I love you;” but what do these words say?
No sabe come te quiero.
Turning the napkin over, Anita looks at the little game she had played with herself, after he had stalked out. It was a game where you wrote down two names; crossed out any letters in each which were the same; and then with the remaining letters in each, you said: “Love, marriage, friendship, hate,” in that order. Both had come out
love.
She sits on the bed hugging her knees; remembering his eyes, how they had watched her; and how he had said her name — Nita.
• • •
Babe Limon rolls over in the narrow bed set against the wall in the one-room apartment on Madison and 106th. The red neon sign from the bar beneath her shines in, showing the shabby furnishings. Babe sighs and pushes a curler back around a lock of her hair. “You still awake, Babe?”
Beside her, Marie Lorenzi lies, dressed in bra and panties. Babe wears a faded pink slip.
“Yeah. It’s two o’clock.”
“You think your old lady’s coming home tonight?”
“I told you I doubt it!”
“Well, don’t bite my head off. I didn’t want to stay over. Could of slept at home just as well!”
“If she does come home, I can push the chairs together…. She won’t.”
“Where is she? Downstairs?”
“Who knows? Maybe at my aunt’s.”
“You still thinking about Gober?”
“What if I am!”
“What’s so hard to forget! Cripes, I seen a million Gobers!”
“You don’t know — ”
“Don’t know what?”
“The way Gober could be, is all.”
“How could he be?”
“Well, before all this, you know? When I was first going with him he used to be special about me. Geez, I don’t know, Marie. He used to call me Princess. He used to tell me I was a princess.”
“Gober?”
“Yeah. I wish you knew him. I mean, I know lotsa guys, but till Gober come into my life, I never felt like anything. That’s what steams me, Marie. I always felt like something because of him, and now because of how he’s been acting lately, I feel like nothing. I mean, what he said about me washing my face, and the thing about the cat. Like I was nobody.”
Marie leans across Babe and grabs for her package of cigarettes on the chair, on the top of the pile of their clothing. She passes one to Babe, and they light up, blowing smoke out into the stuffy air of the room. Marie lets the cigarette dangle from her lips, and props her arms up behind her head as she lies there talking.
“How old were you the first time, Babe?”
“Twelve. Thirteen. I don’t know … How old were you?”
“Fourteen. It happened in a line-up. Eight guys, and me howling my lungs out. S’funny, it never occurred to me it’d hurt so damn much. S’funny — even hurting like it did, I remember something that hurt a lot more that night.”
“Yeah? What?”
“These guys were paying fifty cents, see. I was making four dollars. Cripes, I was so scared and just lying there wishing I was dead instead of there, and hoping it’d be over soon. This one guy looks down at me and says, ‘I wouldn’t pay a nickle for this piece! It’s got pimples, and it’s flat as I am!’ “ Marie exhales a cloud of smoke. “I never forgot that. I was just a kid. I didn’t even know what I was doing. My brother — you know Al — he arranged it, and I couldn’t believe I’d get four dollars for just letting some guys
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