by Boris Vian
"Do you feel better now."
"I feel swell. Did Jean feel better afterwards?"
"After what?"
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"After you screwed her?"
She sure must have gotten a big kick out of saying that word. If I'd put my fingers between her legs I'm sure I would have had to wipe them afterwards.
"Oh," I said, "that wasn't the first time for her."
Again a hail of blows.
"You're a filthy liar, Lee Anderson."
She was panting from the effort and stared at the road again.
"I think I'd rather screw you,' I said. "I like the way you smell better, and you've got more hair on your belly. But Jean isn't bad. I'll miss it with her once we're rid of her."
She didn't move. She took that blow without flinching. My throat was parched and at that instant I got a sudden flash of understanding. I thought 1 realized what she felt.
"Are we going to do it right away," she murmured, "or only afterwards?"
"Do what?" I said in a low voice.
I could hardly speak.
"Are you going to screw me?" she said in such a low voice. I felt rather than heard what she had said.
I was now as excited as a bull, it almost hurt.
"We've got to get rid of her first," I said.
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I said that only to see if she was really hooked.
"I don't want to," she said.
"You really care that much for your sister? You don't want to go the whole way?"
"No, not that, I don't want to wait."
Luckily for me, I saw a gas station and stopped the car. I had to get my mind on something else, otherwise I might lose my head. I didn't get out, but just told the guy to fill her up. Lou twisted the door-handle and got out. She asked the man something in a low voice, and he pointed out a shack to her. She went in and came back in about ten minutes. I took advantage of the break to put some air in a soft tire and to get the guy to bring me a sandwich that I couldn't get myself to eat.
Lou got back in. I'd paid the mechanic, and he went back to bed. I started the car and drove at full throttle again for a couple of hours. Lou didn't stir. She looked as though she were sleeping. I'd calmed myself down to normal. All of a sudden she straightened up and opened the glove compartment again, and sent down three drinks, one after the other.
I couldn't watch her move any more without my getting all excited. I tried to keep driving, but a couple of miles farther up I
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stopped the car on the shoulder. It was still dark. However, you could feel that dawn was coming. There was no wind at all. Nothing but clusters of trees and bushes all around. We hadn't gone through a town for almost a half hour.
After I'd set the brakes, I took the bottle and drank a shot, and then I told her to get out. She opened the door and took her bag, and I followed her. She went over the trees and stopped when we got there and asked me for a cigarette. I'd left them in the car. I told her to wait. She started rummaging in her bag to look for some but I'd already taken off. I ran to the car. I took the bottle back too. It was almost empty, but I had more in the trunk in the rear.
Coming back I could hardly walk comfortably, and I started unbuttoning my fly before I reached her. I suddenly saw the flash of a revolver shot, and at the same instant I felt as though my left elbow explode. My arm fell limp at my side. If I hadn't been twisted up fixing my pants I probably would have gotten the slug in my chest.
That all passed through my head in a second. And a second later I was on top of her and was twisting her wrist and then I gave her a heavy blow across her forehead with all my
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strength, because she had tried to bite me. I was in a bad position and it hurt Uke hell. She caught my blow and fell to the ground, motionless. I wasn't ready for that yet. I picked up the gun and put it in my pocket. It was a little pea-shooter like mine, but she had aimed right. I ran back to the car. I held my left arm with my right hand and I must have had a face like a Chinese mask, but I was so mad I hardly noticed how much it hurt.
I found what I was looking for, some rope, and I went back. Lou had begun to move. I had a hard time tying up her arms with only one hand. When I had her trussed up I began to slap her; I tore off her skirt and ripped her sweater and then went back to slapping her. I held her down with my knee while I tried to get her damn sweater off, but I only managed to rip open the front. It began to get light in the eastern sky; part of her body was right in the deepest shadow of the tree.
She then tried to talk and she told me I wouldn't have her because she had just telephoned to Dex to tell the police and she thought I was a horrible monster ever since I'd talked about getting rid of her sister. I laughed and I slugged her jaw with my fist because she seemed to be smiling too. Her chest was cold and hard. I asked her why she had shot me
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and I tried hard to control myself when she called me a dirty nigger and said that Dexter had told her that, and that she had come with me to warn Jean, and that she hated me more than anybody in her whole life.
I laughed again. I felt my heart pounding like a trip hammer, my hands were trembling and my left arm was still bleeding hard; I felt the blood run down my forearm.
Then I told her that white men had killed my brother and that they'd have a tough time getting me and that she was going to die in any case and I squeezed one of her breasts until she almost fainted, but she didn't cry out. I slapped her again with all my strength.
She opened her eyes again. The sun was going to rise soon. I could see her eyes shine with tears and with hatred. I bent over her. I think I must have snorted and panted like a wild beast and she began to scream. I bit her right between the thighs. I had my mouth full of black stiff hairs. I opened my jaws and clenched them again a little farther down where it was softer. I was dizzy with her perfume,—she had plenty of it there, and I closed my teeth tighter. I tried to put my hand on her mouth, but she squealed like a stuck pig, blood curdling cries. I bit harder, with all my strength and I cut through the flesh. I felt the
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blood gush into my mouth and her body writhed in spite of the rope. My face was smeared with blood and I sat back on my haunches a bit. I'd never heard a woman scream like that; all of a sudden I felt that I was shooting off in my shorts. It effected me stronger than any other time in my life, but I was afraid somebody would come.
I struck a match and saw that she was bleeding hard. Finally I began to hit down again, at first just with my right fist on her jaw, I felt her teeth shatter but I kept it up, I wanted her to stop screaming. I hit harder and then I lifted her skirt and stuck it over her mouth and then I sat down on her head. She still wriggled like an eel. I didn't think she would have held on to life so hard. She thrashed about so violently I thought my left forearm would be jerked off. I now felt such a rage that I could have skinned her alive. I got up to finish her off with some kicks. Finally I put my foot across her throat and put all my weight on it. When she had stopped moving, I felt myself go off a second time. I now felt my knees trembling and was afraid that I would faint.
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XIX
I should have gone after the pick and shovel and buried her there, but I was afraid of the cops now. I didn't want to be caught before I'd taken care of Jean. I felt the kid point the way to me. I knelt down beside Lou. I untied the rope that held her hands. There were deep cuts on her wrists and she felt soft and flabby, like corpses that are still warm. Her breasts were losing their shape. I didn't pull the skirt down off her face. I didn't want to see her head any more. I took her watch however. I wanted to have something of hers.
I suddenly thought of how my face must look and I ran back to the car. When I looked in the mirror I saw th
ere wasn't too much to fix up. I washed myself with a little whiskey. My arms had stopped bleeding. I managed to get it out of my sleeve and tie it tight against my body with my scarf and some rope. I almost howled, it hurt so much when I bent it back. I managed, especially after I'd gotten another bottle out of the trunk. I guess I'd lost a lot of time—the sun was almost on the horizon. I took Lou's coat out of the car and draped it over her,—I didn't want
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to drag it around with me. I couldn't feel my legs any more, but my hands weren't trembling so bad any more.
I got back in behind the wheel and started the car. I wondered what she could have told Dex. Her story about the cops began to bother me, but I didn't really think about it. It just stayed in the back of my mind, like an echo.
I now wanted to take care of Jean and feel again what I'd felt twice while I was wiping out her sister. I found what I'd always been looking for. The thought of the cops bothered me, but still only vaguely—that wouldn't stop me from doing what I wanted to do,—I'd gone too far. They'd have to go damn fast to catch up with me. I still had about three hundred miles to do. My left arm was beginning to get numb, and I sent the gas-pedal all the way down.
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XX
I began to remember lots of things about an hour before I got there. I remembered the day I'd gotten my hands on a guitar for the fist time. It was at a neighbor's house, he gave me some lessons secretly. I practiced only one song, "When the Saints go Marching On" and I learned to play and sing the whole thing together with the chorus.
One evening I borrowed the neighbor's guitar to surprise everybody at home; Tom sang with me and the kid acted like he was crazy, dancing around the table as though he was leading a parade; he took a stick and twirled it about. Just then my pop came in and he laughed and sang with us. I took the guitar back to the neighbor, but next day I found one on my bed; a second-hand one, but a good one. Everyday I practiced a little. The guitar is a lazy man's instrument. You pick it up, strum out a tune and then you drop it, laze around, pick it up again to strike a couple of chords to accompany yourself while whistling some tune. The days go by quickly that way.
I snapped out of it suddenly when I hit a bump on the road. I think I almost fell
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asleep. I hardly felt my left arm anymore and I was parched with thirst. I tried to think back to the good old days just to get my mind off things, because I was so impatient to get there that whenever I started thinking about it I felt my heart pound against my ribs and my right hand tremble on the wheel. I had a lot of trouble driving with just one hand. I wondered what Tom would do if he were in my place; he was probably praying now back in his school. From Tom my mind traveled to Clem, and then to Buckton, where I stayed three months running a book-store and earning a good living. I remembered Jicky and the time I'd screwed her in the water, and how clear the stream was that day. Jicky so young, smooth, naked, like a baby, and all of a sudden that made me think of Lou and her black muff, thick and curly, and of the taste I had in my mouth when I bit it, a sweetish, salty taste, hot, and the smell of perfume from her thighs; ;and I again heard her screams in my ear. I felt the sweat run down my forehead and I couldn't let go the damn wheel to wipe it.
My stomach felt as though it was all swollen up with gas and pushed on my diaphragm crushing my lungs and Lou screamed in my ears. I reached over to the center horn-button, on the wheel, I had an extra
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set of horns on the car and I pressed everything down at once to drown out her screams.
I must have been doing about eighty-five or so; the car couldn't do much better, but then I started down a long grade and I saw the needle edge over three, four more miles. The sun had been up for some time. A lot of cars went by in the other direction, and I passed some on my side. After a couple of minutes I let up on the horns, I was afraid to arouse some motor-cycle-cops and I didn't have enough speed to get away from them. When I got there I'd take Jean's ear, but Lord, when was I going to get there.
I think I began to squeal there in the car, to squeal like a pig, with my teeth clenched, I was able to go faster that way, and I took a curve without slowing down with a horrible shrieking of the tires. The Nash swung over violently, but straightened up again after having cut over to the left shoulder and I kept the accelerator pedal down to the floor and I laughed happily like the kid when he danced around the table singing "When the Saints Go Marching On" and I almost wasn't afraid any more.
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XXI
That damn shivering came back on me anyhow, just before I got to the hotel. It was almost half past eleven. Jean must have expected me at breakfast as I had told her. I opened the door on the right and got out that side because with my arm it was easiest that way.
The hotel was a sort of white building in the local style with drawn blinds. They still had plenty of sun down there, even though it was towards the end of October. I didn't find a soul downstairs. It was nowhere near as nice a place as described in the ad, but as far as privacy, you couldn't have asked for anything better.
I counted about a dozen other shacks and a gas station and cafe a little off the road, probably a truck-stop... I went outside again. As I figured, the sleeping cabins ought to be separate from the hotel and I thought they might be up the path that led off at right angles to the road. There were some miserable trees about and some sparse grass. I left the car and went up the path. It turned not far up, and right after that I ran into Jean's car in front
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of a cabin with two fairly clean rooms. I went in without knocking.
She was sitting on an armchair and seemed to be sleeping. She didn't look so good, but still had on her swank clothes. I wanted to wake her up but the phone,—there was one in the cabin,—began to ring right then. I lost my head like a dope and jumped on it. My heart beat wildly again. I took off the receiver and slammed it back on. I knew that Dex was the only one who might call her. Dex or the cops. Jean rubbed her eyes. She got up and I kissed her right off, so hard she almost cried out. She felt wide awake now. I put my arm around her to lead her out. Just then she noticed my empty sleeve.
"What's the matter, Lee?"
She looked frightened. I laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh.
"It's nothing. I tripped like a dope getting out of the car and I smashed my elbow."
"But you've been bleeding."
"Just a scratch. Come on, Jean, I've had enough of that trip. I just want to be alone with you now."
The phone started ringing again and I felt as though the electric current had been stepped up through my body rather than going through the wires. I couldn't control
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myself and I grabbed it and threw it on the floor.
I broke it to bits with my heels. I suddenly felt as though I was crushing Lou's face again with my shoes. I broke out into a sweat, and I almost ran out. I know that my lips were trembling and I must have looked like a madman.
Fortunately Jean didn't press me. She went out and I told her to get into her car. We'd ride off a bit to be more alone and we'd come back for breakfast later. It was damn late for breakfast, but she seemed to be in a daze. Still sick, I guessed, because of the baby that was coming. I pressed on the gas pedal. The car jerked as I started it, throwing us back hard against the seat. It was almost all over now. Just hearing the motor calmed me. I said something to Jean to explain about the phone; she began to notice I was raving and I told myself it was about time for me to stop it. She snuggled against me and put her head on my shoulder.
I waited until we had covered about twenty miles, and then I looked for a good place to stop. I found a stretch where the road was built up on an embankment. I thought that we could just slide down the embankme
nt and I could do it there. I stopped the car. She
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got out first. I felt Lou's gun in my pocket. I didn't want to use it right away. Even with only one arm I could take care of Jean too. She bent over to fix her shoe and I could see her thighs under the short skirt that tightly molded her hips. I felt my mouth become dry. She stopped near a bush. There was a spot there where you couldn't see the road when you sat down.
She stretched out on the ground. I took her right there, but I didn't let myself go all the way. I tried to keep myself calm, in spite of her wriggling; I was able to make her go off without having gone off myself. And then I spoke to her.
"Do you always like it so much when you get laid by a colored man?"
She didn't say a word. She looked paralyzed.
"You know, I've got more than an eighth colored blood in me."
She opened her eyes again and I laughed. She didn't know what was going on. And then I told her everything : the whole business of the kid, how he fell in love with a girl and how her brother and father had taken care of him; I told her what I wanted to do with her and with Lou, to get double revenge. I felt in my pocket and pulled out Lou's wrist-
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watch. I showed it to her and then said I was sorry I hadn't been able to bring her one of her sister's eyes, but they were too poor condition after the special treatment I had given them.
It wasn't easy for me to say all that. The words didn't come out by themselves. She lay there on the ground, with her eyes closed and her skirt pushed up on her belly. I again felt that strange sensation that ran up my back and my hand closed on her throat and I couldn't stop myself; it came; it was so strong that I let her go and almost staggered to my feet. Her face was all blue, but she didn't move. She was still breathing I think. I took Lou's gun from my pocket and I sent two bullets into her neck, almost point-blank; the blood started bubbling out, slowly, in spurts, with a squirting sound. All you could see of her eyes was a white thread between her lids. She jerked suddenly, and I think that that was when she died. I turned her over so I wouldn't have to see her face any more, and while she was still warm I did to her just what I had done in her bedroom.