I Spit on Your Graves

by Boris Vian

  "Well then, do it now, Lee. Don't mind me. When she wakes up maybe she won't want to."

  "Take it easy, Judy."

  "Maybe it bothers you that I've got my clothes on."

  She went to the door and turned the bolt. And then she took off her dress and her bra leaving nothing but her stockings.

  "Up to you, Lee."

  She sat down on the edge of the bathtub, her legs spread apart, and looked at me. I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I ripped my clothes off.

  "Get down on top of her, Lee. Get the lead out of your pants."

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  "Judy," I said. "You're disgusting."

  "Why? I think it'll be fun to see you on her. Come on, Lee, do something..."

  I dropped down on Jean, but that damn Judy had taken the breath out of me. I didn't have any more power. I remained on my knees with Jean between my legs. Judy came over to me again. I felt her hand guide me to the proper place. She didn't take her hand away. I almost cried out she got me so excited. Jean didn't budge-then I looked at her face and saw she was dribbling again. She had half-opened her eyes, and then closed them again, and I felt that she was beginning to move a bit, swaying her back. Meanwhile Judy continued her guidance, and with her other hand, caressed my behind.

  Judy got up. She went over to the switch and turned the light off. It was too much even for her under the bright light. She came back to me and I thought she was going to do the same thing, but this time she bent over me and gave me a feel. I was still in the same position, and she stretched out on her belly on top of me, but head to toe, and now -instead of her hand, I felt her mouth.

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  Boris Vian

  VI

  I finally decided, after about an hour, that the others would begin to wonder about us so, I crawled out from between them. I can't recall in just what part of the master bathroom we ended up in.

  I was a little dizzy and had an aching back. And my thighs were pretty chewed up where Jean's nails had given me a good raking. I crawled over to the wall and got myself organized and then found the switch. Judy had begun to stir. I put the lights on and saw her sitting on the ground, rubbing her eyes. Jean was on her belly on the bath mat, her head resting on her arm. She looked as though she were asleep. God she had a beautiful back! I quickly put my shirt and my pants back on. Judy was touching herself up before the washbasin. I took a face cloth and wet it. I lifted her head to awaken her and found her eyes wide open, and she was even laughing. I caught her around the waist and sat her down on the edge of the tub.

  "What you need is a good shower."

  "I'm too tired," she said. "I guess I drank a little."

  "You can say that again," Judy broke in.

  "Oh, not so much," I reassured her.

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  "You'll be alright again with a little nap."

  Then she got up and hooked her arm around my neck, and gave me a long kiss. I worked myself slowly out of her embrace, and put her in the tub.

  "Close your eyes and lift your head up."

  I turned the hot and cold faucets and the shower struck her in the face. She stretched out her body under the warm water and I could see the nipples of her breasts become darker and jut out a bit.

  "Mmm, that's good."

  Judy was rolling up her stockings.

  "Step on it, you two. If we go down right away maybe we'll still be able to get something to drink."

  I got a huge bath towel. Jean shut off the faucets and I wrapped her n the fluffy fabric. She sure liked the way it felt.

  "Where are we," she asked. "In Dexter's house?"

  "No, at some friend's," I replied. "We were having too boring a time to stay at Dexter's."

  "I'm glad you brought me along," she said. "It won't be so stuffy here."

  She was all dry by now. I handed her both parts of her gown.

  "Get it on," I said, "Fix up your face and

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  Boris Vian

  come on downstairs."

  I went towards the door. I opened it for Judy who raced down the steps. I was going to follow her.

  "Wait for me, Lee..."

  Jean turned her back for me to hook up her brassiere. I tenderly bit the nape of her neck. She leaned over backwards.

  "Will you sleep with me again?"

  "And how," I said. "Any time you say."

  "Right away?"

  "Your sister is going to wonder where you are."

  "Lou's here?"

  "Of course!"

  "Oh! Well, that's very nice," said Jean. "Now I'll be able to chaperone her."

  "I don't think your chaperoning her will do her much good," I said.

  "How do you like her, Lee?"

  "I wouldn't mind sleeping with her either," I said.

  She laughed again.

  "I think she's wonderful. I wish I looked like her. If you only saw her naked."

  "How abut fixing me up?"

  "Really, now, don't be such a leech!"

  "Pardon ME! I didn't have the opportunity to learn proper etiquette."

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  "I think your manners are very nice,' she said, looking at me invitingly.

  I placed my arm around her waist and led her to the door.

  "It's about time we went down."

  "I like your voice very much too."

  "Come on."

  "Would you want to marry me."

  "Don't talk nonsense!"

  I started to go down the staircase.

  "I'm not talking nonsense! You've got to marry me now."

  She looked quite calm and sure of what she was saying.

  "I can't marry you!"

  "Why not?"

  "Because I think I'd rather have your sister."

  She laughed again.

  "Oh, Lee, I'm crazy about you."

  "Thank you," I said.

  Everybody was in the living room, making a big racket. I pushed the door open and let Jean go in before me. Our coming was greeted by a chorus of catcalls. They'd opened some canned chicken and were stuffing it away Uke Httle pigs. Bill, Dick and Nicholas were in their shirtsleeves, and had gravy all over their clothes. Lou had an enormous spot

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  Boris Vian

  of mayonnaise on her dress, running down its full length. And Judy and Jicky were just gorging themselves without a care in the world. I noticed that at least five of the bottles were almost empty.

  The radio was giving out monotonously and without too much volume a program of dance music.

  When she got near the chicken, Jean let out an Indian war-whoop and grabbed a big chunk into which she sank her teeth without further ado. I fixed myself up, filling my plate.

  Things were going very well,I thought.

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  VII

  At three o'clock in the morning. Dexter called up. Jean was doing a good job getting herself another drunk on, even better than the first one, and I took advantage of that to latch her onto Nicholas. I didn't leave her sister, however, -

  I rather plied her with drinks, as much as I could, but she offered a lot of resistance and it wasn't easy. Dexter warned us that Mr. and Mrs. Asquith were beginning to wonder what had happened to their daughters. I asked him how come he knew where we were, and he just laughed over the phone. I told him why we, had skipped out.

  "That's O.K., Lee," he said, "I know you couldn't have had any fun at my place tonight. Too many good people."

  "How about you coming over too, Dex," I suggested.

  "What's the matter, no more liquor?"

  "No, it isn't that," I protested. "But you'll get a new slant on things here."

  He was caustic as usual, though his tone of voice remained perfectly innocent.

  "I can't get away from here, he said. "Otherwise I'd come over. What should I tell the girl's parents."

 
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  "Tell them we'll deliver their little girls to their very door."

  "I don't think they're going to like that, Lee. You know..."

  "Oh, they're old enough to take care of themselves."

  "Yeah, but they know they're not alone."

  "Fix it up, Dex old pal. I'm counting on you."

  "O.K. Lee, I'll take care of it. See you later."

  "So long."

  He hung up. I did too, and went back to my campaign. Jicky and Bill were beginning to indulge in some exercises not intended for young ladies of good family, and I was curious to see how Lou would react. She had finally let herself take some drinks. She didn't seem to be very shocked, even when Bill started taking Judy's dress off.

  "Whafll you have?"

  "Whisky"

  "Toss it down, and we'll dance."

  I took hold of her and tried to take her into another room.

  "What do you want to do in there."

  "Too much noise here."

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  sat down on a divan next to me without any protest, but when I tried to pet her, I got a slap as startling as the one I got the day I was born. I was mad as hell, but I managed to keep smiling.

  "Put your paws down," Lou said.

  "You're a pretty tough baby,' I commented.

  "Well you started it!"

  "That's no excuse. Do you think this is a Sunday-school class? Or a bingo party?"

  "Oh, I just don't feel like being first prize."

  "That's what you are, whether you like it or not."

  "I suppose you're thinking of my father's fortune."

  "No, - I'm thinking of this."

  I pushed her back onto the divan and tore at the front of her dress. She fought like a wildcat. Her breasts popped out of the sheer silk.

  "Let me go! You're just a big brute!"

  "No," I said, "I'm a man."

  "You're disgusting," she said as she tried to break away. "What did you do that whole hour you spent upstairs with Jean?"

  "Nothing at all," I said. "You know very well Judy was with us."

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  "I'm beginning to understand just what kind of a crowd this is, Lee Anderson, and what kind of people you are."

  "Lou, I swear that I didn't touch your sister except to sober her up."

  "You're lying. Didn't you see the way she looked at you when she came down again?"

  "Well, I'll be...! Sound so as though you're jealous."

  She looked at me with stupefaction.

  "Well! And just who and what do you think you are!"

  "Do you think that I'd still want to do something to you if I had touched your sister?"

  "Well she isn't any better than I am!"

  I was still holding her down on the divan. She'd stopped struggling. Her breasts rose and fell rhythmically. I bent over her and kissed them with long kisses, one after the other, caressing the nipples with my tongue. Then I stood up.

  "No Lou," I said. "She isn't any better than you are."

  I let her go and stepped back quickly, since I expected a violent reaction. But she turned over on her side and began to cry.

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  VIII

  After the party, I went back to my everyday work. I'd set the trap -1 now had to wait for events to take their course. I knew I 'd see them again. I didn't think Jean would forget me after seeing how'd she'd looked at me, and as for Lou, I counted on her very young-ness, and also on what I'd said and done to her in Jicky's house.

  The following week I got in a big shipment of new books that announced the end of autumn and the beginning of the winter season. I kept up my good work, and I was able to put quite a few dollars away. I now had a pretty good sum. Nothing much, really, but it would be enough. I had to make some expenditures. Get some new clothes, and have my ^ car overhauled. A couple of times I'd substituted for the guitarist in the only fairly decent orchestra in town, the one that played at the Stork Club. I don't think this Stork Club had any connection with the New York one, but the solid young gentlemen with glasses were glad to come there with the daughters of insurance agents or of tractor salesmen. I earned some extra dough that way, and also got to know people who came to buy books from me. The fellows and girls from our bunch sometimes

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  Boris Vian

  went there too. I still saw them regularly, and I still kept laying Judy and Jicky I couldn't get rid of Jicky. It was lucky I had both of them, though, for I was in rare form. In addition to all that, I took part in various sports, and developed the muscles of a prizefighter.

  And then, one evening, about a week after the party which began at Dex's house, I got a letter from Tom. He asked me to come as quickly as possible. I took advantage of the weekend and went down to where he was. I knew Tom hadn't written me for no good reason, and I suspected it wasn't about something pleasant.

  There'd been some fights in connection with the elections, stirred up by Senator Balbo, the biggest bastard in the state. Ever since the colored men had been trying to vote, he'd been stirring up hell. He managed it so that a couple of days before the election, some of his men broke up some colored meetings, beating a couple of men to death.

  My brother, who was a teacher in the colored school had made a public protest, and had sent a letter on the subject, and the next day, they beat him up too. He'd written me to come and get him with the car, to take him somewhere else.

  He was waiting for me in our house, all

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  alone in the dark room. He was sitting on a chair when I came in. It hurt me to see his broad but bent back and the way he held his head in his hands. I felt my blood, my good Negro blood, throb in anger through my veins and sing in my ears. He got up and took me by the shoulders. His mouth was swollen and he could speak but with pain. When I was about to give him a slap on the back to cheer him up he caught my arm.

  "They bullwhipped me," he said.

  "Who did it?"

  "Bleb's gang. The Moran boy."

  "That guy again!"

  My fists balled up involuntarily. A bitter anger came over me.

  "Do you want me to knock him off, Tom?"

  "No, Lee. We couldn't. They'd kill you. You've still got a chance, Lee, you haven't got any of the signs."

  "But you're a better man than I am, Tom."

  "Just look at my hands, Lee. Look at my nails. And my hair and my lips. I'm black, Lee. I can't get away from it. But you !..."

  He stopped talking and just looked at me. He really loved me.

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  "You, Lee, you ought to get away from it. God will help you to. He'll help you, Lee."

  "God doesn't give a hang," I said.

  He smiled. He knew I had no more religion.

  "Lee, you were too young when you left this town, and you've lost your religion, but God will forgive you when the time comes. Flee from men. But come to Him, with open arms and open heart."

  "Where are you going to go, Tom? Do you need any money?"

  "I've got money, Lee. I wanted to leave the house together with you. I want to..."

  He stopped. The words came with difficulty from his twisted mouth.

  "I want to burn the house down, Lee. Our father built it. We owe everything to him. His skin was almost that of a white man, Lee. But he never thought of going back on his race-remember, Lee? Our brother is dead, and nobody shall live in the house our father built with his own black hands."

  I said nothing. I helped Tom get his things together and we piled it into the Nash. The house was situated out on the edge of town, in a rather isolated spot. I left Tom to finish up in the house, and I went over to the car to do over the bundles.

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  He joined me a couple of minutes
later.

  "Well," he said, "Let's get going. We've got to go away because the time when there will be equal justice for the black man as well as the white man is not yet at hand."

  A red light flickered in the kitchen, and then suddenly flashed brightly We heard the muffled roar of an exploding gas-can and then the bright gleam reached the window of the adjoining room. And finally a tongue of flame cut through the board wall, and the wind fanned the flame. The fire danced about and Tom's face, in the bright red light, shone with sweat. Two heavy tears rolled down his cheeks. And he placed his hand on my shoulder and we turned our backs on the scene.

  I'm pretty sure Tom could have sold the house. With the money he could have caused the Morans a good bit of trouble, maybe even knock off a couple of them, but I didn't want to stop him from doing what he thought he ought to do. And I did what I thought I had to do. He still had a lot of funny ideas about kindness and godliness in his head. He was too honest, Tom was, and that's what ruined him. He thought that if he were good and kind, he would be repaid with kindness but it was quite rare that things turned out so. There is only one thing that matters, and that is to

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  have revenge, full and complete revenge. I thought of the kid, who had been even whiter than I was, if that were possible. When Anne Moran's father had learned that he was going with his daughter, all hell broke loose.

  But the kid had never left our town, whereas I had been away for more than ten years, in contact with people who didn't know what I came from, and I had been able to lose that abject humility that grows upon us, bit by bit, like a reflex; that hateful humility which made Tom's torn lips proffer words of compassion; the fright which made my brothers hide themselves every time they heard a white man's footsteps. But I knew that if we only had his skin we'd be ahead of him, for he talks too much and betrays his weaknesses when he's in the company of what he thinks are other white men.

  With Bill, with Dick, and with Judy, I'd already gotten several points up on them. But I didn't think it worth while telling them a "nigger" had taken them-I wouldn't get what I really wanted that way. I'd have my revenge on Moran and on every last one of them when I'd done with Lou and Jean Asquith. Two at a clip, and they wouldn't get me like they did my brother.