Odd Girl

by Artemis Smith

  "Why do you need me?" Anne said. It was hard to believe Pru needed anyone. Pru seemed so self-sufficient.

  Pru smiled. "Because you're family, too." She let go of Anne and rubbed the top of her head fondly. "I wish I had met you nine years ago, before Helen."

  Anne laughed. "I would have been twelve years old."

  "Whoops!" Pru chuckled. "Well, I guess I wouldn't have corrupted a minor."

  "But I'm glad I'm here now," Anne said. The thought of Beth went away for a moment and she held Pru's hand, that familiar hand which fit so snugly in her own. Then she let go for a moment to put the meatloaf in the oven and walked out of the kitchen, still holding Pru.

  "Alice, what a royal camp," Jacques said, looking up from a gay novel out of Pru's extensive collection. He had kicked off his shoes and was sitting with Portia on his lap on the sofa, completely at home. He seemed so very small and young on the sofa.

  Pru sat on the floor and Anne sat in front of her, using Pru's body as a backrest.

  "Yes, it's fit for a queen," Anne smiled. "I'm glad you like it," Pru said, kissing Anne's ear lightly. They felt at ease with Jacques. "What are your ambitions?" Pru asked him. She too thought him young and liked him in a protective way.

  "I want to dance," he said, pleased that she had asked. "Alice and I were in the same theater group."

  "Yes," Anne said. "That was how we met."

  "Why do you call her Alice?" Pru asked, amused at Jacques' terms.

  "It's some sort of gay expression," Anne said, feeling she had to defend Jacques a little.

  "It's because she's in wonderland," Jacques said. "You know—meeting queens.”

  Both Pru and Anne laughed loudly.

  "I never realized that was why you called me that," Anne said. "I don't mind the name as much now."

  "Tell me," Pru nudged Anne, "is his name really Jacques, or did he make that one up too?"

  "It's Jonathan," Jacques confessed a bit ashamed. "My father's a retired missionary."

  They would have laughed again but the telephone rang. Jacques was nearest to it so he answered.

  "Esther!" he exclaimed, surprised. "How did you know I'd be here!" He was puzzled. "Who am I? Jacques, of course, who else? No, you didn't dial a wrong number."

  "Dear me," Pru scratched her head, a bit red in her face, "I guess I'm being found out." She got up and went toward the telephone. "I think it's for me, Jonathan."

  Anne watched her, amused and a bit nervous. Esther was calling Prudence and now she would know about Anne.

  "Hello, Es," Pru said, "I'm here with Jacques and Anne. Yes—Anne. She's staying with me."

  Anne listened intently, trying to imagine how Esther was taking it at the other end.

  "Alice, what a triangle!" Jacques said, guessing the situation.

  "Hush," Anne said, trying to listen to the conversation.

  "Wait a minute," Pru said, "I'll put her on."

  She handed the telephone to Anne and said, "Esther wants to speak to you."

  Anne got up nervously and took the telephone. "Hello," she said shyly.

  "Anne, why the hell didn't you say it was Johnson?" Esther exclaimed. Her voice was highly embarrassed.

  "I'm sorry," Anne said, "I didn't know whether Prudence wanted me to tell you."

  "Well, for God's sake!" Esther said, exasperated. "Am I seeing you Sunday?"

  "I don't know," Anne said. And then she looked at Prudence quietly waiting and grew more determined. "I don't think so, Esther. I'm sorry."

  "I see," Esther said. Her voice was hard now, stony. "Well, I guess I can't blame you. Johnson's a good catch. I've been trying myself all this time." She paused for a moment and then said coldly, "Goodbye, Anne."

  Anne heard her hang up. Her face began to flush and she became upset. She had hurt Esther. She put the telephone down slowly and sat on the bed.

  Pru came over and rubbed her neck. "Poor Anne, don't worry. She'll forget and forgive both of us next week."

  "How do you know?" Anne snapped and turned away.

  "She's right, Alice," Jacques said. "I know Esther. Nothing hurts her very badly."

  Pru ignored him and looked at Anne. "I'm afraid I've neglected to tell you something about Esther," she said. "You see, that Sunday morning date she was breaking was with me." She waited, a little amused and embarrassed.

  "Then she called you to call it off," Anne said.

  "No, she did that yesterday afternoon," Pru said. "She asked me to postpone it until Sunday night. I asked her to call me back to confirm it. That's why she called now." Pru waited again, awkwardly, because Jacques had also heard this.

  Anne walked away from the telephone. If only she could believe Pru, but now she did not trust her. Now she suspected Pru of being unfair, of having tricked Esther. And so the thought of Beth came back and she wanted to leave; she wanted to speak to Beth, to give her a fair chance.

  "I think the meatloaf is burning," Anne said coldly, and went into the kitchen.

  She came back and served them silently at the table, making no excuse for the simplicity of the meal. A stony silence had fallen on all of them and Pru broke it only to comment meekly on Anne's good cooking.

  She knows I'm angry at her, Anne thought, and decided to remain angry. It was convenient to be angry at Pru. It gave Anne a good excuse to see Beth. But she also needed the anger, because it shielded her against the growing fondness which she seemed unable to deny. Yes, Pru was family. Anne had never met anyone, not even Beth, so completely like herself.

  She looked at them while they ate. They both seemed somewhat like little children who had been scolded before dinner. Jacques was perhaps suffering more than Pru.

  Anne's silence had made him insecure and he knew he was in the way. He was eating nervously, trying to hurry through the meal. Pru on the other hand was quiet, but still ate with the wholesome and all-devouring appetite. When she had cleaned her plate and finished all the bread she looked up and stretched and said, "Shall I run down and get ice cream?"

  "I guess so," Anne shrugged, damning Pru's self-confidence.

  But Jacques interrupted her. "No thanks," he said, "I have to get back. I told Peter I'd be in.”

  "Peter?" Pru questioned.

  "A boy I met last night." Jacques shifted uneasily, almost as if he were bluffing. He turned to Pru and seriously said, "I want to thank you and Alice for inviting me. I was a bit wary of that kitchen in Alice's apartment. I don't think I can even boil water."

  Anne had to laugh. "It's all right, Jonathan. Come over again. I'll teach you."

  "Thanks," Jacques said. He rose nervously and hesitated, then went to the closet for his coat.

  Pru got up too and went to help him. "Please do come again," she said.

  He nodded gratefully and then looked at Anne. "Well, good night, Alice."

  Pru walked him to the head of the stairs and watched him leave. "He's very nice," she said when he had gone.

  "He's a crazy mixed-up kid," Anne said dryly.

  "We all are at first," Pru responded and stood, looking at her, studying her face.

  Anne shifted uneasily on the bed. I'm being viciously mean tonight, she thought and felt a little sorry. "You think I'm mixed up too," she said.

  "Yes," Pru smiled, still with that sad and all-wise look that made her eyes seem so kind. "I haven't put anything over on you, Anne," she said, more seriously. "I didn't want to tell you of my date with Esther because I wanted to give her a chance to behave differently with you. If she hadn't called to confirm Sunday night it might have meant that she had changed, her mind, that she felt serious about you."

  "I guess you're right," Anne said. "You're always so right." But she was angry and silent. She did not want to be right. She wanted to be angry.

  "You're still angry," Pru said, going to her. "Is it really about Esther?"

  "No," Anne said, turning away. The room seemed stuffy now, constricting. She did not want to look at Pru.

  Pru sighed and went to pour
coffee. She came back with cup for Anne.

  "It'll keep us awake," Anne said, looking at the cup blandly.

  "We're going to stay awake," Pru said. She held the until Anne took it.

  "If we stay up late we'll be too tired to enjoy Thanksgiving," Anne said, looking at her cup.

  "I'm afraid we'll have to chance that," Pru said. She determined. "I'm going to make a speech, Anne, and then you can go."

  "Go?" Anne looked up, surprised. The word frightened her.

  "Yes. You want to go, don't you?" Pru asked.

  Anne did not answer. She had the feeling Pru was scolding her. It helped her to stay angry.

  "What an angry young woman," Pru said. "You don't need any excuse to leave me. You might just tell me you want to see Beth."

  Anne looked at her, surprised and upset. Pru had seen through her mood.

  "It's a pattern, Anne," Pru said. "I went through it too. I just want time to plead my case and then I'll take you to her."

  She waited for Anne to speak. Anne looked down, feeling quite defensive. She didn't want Pru to be so superior; she was treating her like a child.

  "I told you that you could have Beth," Pru said. "If you see her tonight you'll know I'm right. But if you keep her you'll make the mistake I made with Helen."

  "Perhaps Beth's not like Helen," Anne rose to her defense.

  "Perhaps," Pru said. "If so, I hope you'll both be very happy." She stared at Anne a little sadly now. "I need you too, Anne," she said, repeating the words with the same intensity as before, in the kitchen. "I know it seems as if Beth needs you more, and perhaps she does. Beth certainly needs someone. But I need you too and I think I can appreciate you more than Beth can. I think Beth is selfish about you. She doesn't want to give up anything for you as I do."

  "What do you want to give up for me, Johnson?" Anne looked at her. It was hard to be angry at Pru, even when convenient.

  "All of me, which is bad and would hurt you," Pru said. "Don't think that's an easy thing to do. Many people—and I think Beth especially—wouldn't know where to start."

  "I guess not," Anne said. "I wouldn't know either."

  "But you do," Pru said. She neared Anne now and took her hand. "You're rare, Anne, because you're so honest with yourself. That's why I need you. I've looked and looked for someone like you." She stopped and sighed. "I guess I'd better stop talking and take you to Beth." She took up the telephone and handed it to Anne. "Better see if she's home."

  "I don't want to call her," Anne said, avoiding the telephone as if it were a vicious thing.

  "Yes, you do," Pru said. "Eventually you'll want to call her. It might as well be now."

  She's so beautiful, Anne thought, wanting now to embrace Pru. They were alone and Anne felt desire awakening. Perhaps because she's being cold to me, she thought.

  "I don't want to see Beth," Anne said, getting up and facing Pru. "Hold me," she pleaded.

  "No," Pru said, turning away, "I can't. You still belong Beth." She handed the telephone to Anne. "Please call her now."

  "I don't want to call her," Anne said, again avoiding the receiver. "I'm not ready yet."

  "Tomorrow I won't be ready to let you call her," Pru said.

  "If I see Beth tonight I'll probably make love to her," Anne said coldly, trying to discourage Pru. "Do you want that?"

  "I'm prepared to forgive it," Pru said. She turned away. I want you to make love to her, Anne. It's the only way you'll be sure about her. I want you to know whether you enjoy being treated like a man."

  "What do you mean?" Anne said, puzzled and embarrassed.

  "Helen pretended, I was a man for eight years," Pru said. "She really wanted men, but she was afraid of them. I was a convenient substitute."

  "And you think Beth wants men too," Anne said. "I think Beth wants to be pure," Pru answered. "She's had too many men and being with you will make her feel young again. She'll make you into a young boy."

  "I can't believe that," Anne said and turned away. "You're saying Beth wants me to be a butch, like the ones at Cora's."

  "Perhaps," Pru nodded. "And then again perhaps I’ve misjudged her."

  "I think you have," Anne said coldly. She was annoyed at Pru now. She was attacking Beth's motives, was comparing Beth to one of the cheap girls at Cora's. Anne went to the telephone and took it angrily. "I guess I'll have to prove it to you."

  She dialed Beth's number roughly, feeling a wonderful new freedom, almost sadistic, making her strong with rage and no longer afraid of Pru, no longer afraid of Beth. She stared intently at Pru, not stopping even when Beth answered the telephone.

  "Beth?" she said, a little hoarse; and then she cleared her throat. "Beth, I want to see you tonight. May I come over?" She was doing what she had wanted to do at the A&P—calling Beth. But she felt cold about it, and about Pru, felt cold about the whole world, felt only rage.

  She heard Beth's startled pause on the other end. "Yes, of course," she said. "Rick's here, but I'm sure he'll understand."

  "I want to see you alone," Anne said. The mention of Rick made her even more angry.

  Beth paused again for a long moment and then said, "All right, I'll send him out for a couple of hours. Come up in twenty minutes." She hung up without a goodbye.

  Anne put the receiver down slowly. A feeling of distaste was beginning to creep over her rage. Beth was with Rick, would see Rick again after Anne. She didn't want to see Beth like that. But she would, to spite Rick.

  Pru looked at her. Her eyes were quiet, stoic. "I'll drop you off in a taxi," she said.

  Anne stood, still feeling the wonderful freedom of before, the freedom of being able to do what she wanted, of feeling unashamed of rage and selfishness. Selfishness—that was it. She had hidden her selfishness even from herself, and now Pru had let her be selfish, had let her be reckless and cruel, had made her free.

  Now Pru brought Anne's jacket and helped her with it. Anne let her automatically and then followed her downstairs, out into the damp cold air. It was drizzling slightly. The wetness took some of Anne's rage away. But she was not flesh and blood now, she was back somewhere, to some old and strange half-sleeping mood, part robot, in a world of stone.

  "Come on, butch," Pru said wryly. "You’ll be late."

  "Why are you calling me that?" Anne said.

  "Because that's what you're being, young 'un," Pru said. She smiled a little now. "You won't look as bad as some in short hair, though." She couldn't help being amused at Anne now, almost laughing at her, although she was still sad.

  Anne thought of Skippy again and it made her angry that Pru was putting her in that category. She was not like that. "I'll never cut my hair," she said.

  "Well, perhaps Beth won't let you," Pru smiled again, teasing. "It might make you too obvious."

  When they reached the corner Pru hailed a cab and let Anne enter first.

  "Fifth and Twelfth Street," Anne said.

  They sat back, Pru shut the door, and the cab raced down the lonely street to catch the changing light.

  Anne twisted Pru's ring around her finger. It was forming a blister.

  "Psychological," Pru said, watching her hands. "You can take it off, Anne. I'll keep it for you in case you come back."

  Anne looked at her, a little frightened again. She didn't want to break with Pru. But she also wanted to see Beth. She felt very confused. "I'll keep it on," she said, pushing the ring far back on her finger.

  It was not far to Twelfth Street and the cab driver turned in, reached Fifth Avenue, and stopped.

  "There you are," Pru said. She opened the door for Anne to get out and then looked at the street. "Paradise is near here," she said. "You can find me there until closing time."

  Anne got out quietly, fighting a mounting fear in her chest. The lonely street and the thought of leaving Pru panicked her. She took Pru's hand and held it tightly.

  Pru squeezed Anne's hand fondly for a moment and then withdrew. "Goodnight, Alice," she said, imitating Jacques a l
ittle, then shut the door.

  Anne watched the cab drive off and turned toward Beth’s house.

  CHAPTER 12

  Anne had never been in Beth's apartment. She had come to see the house, to mark it in her mind as the place where Beth lived, but she had never been upstairs. It was a small brownstone, bursting with old Washington Square tradition, on what was in daylight a very lovely street. She walked down three steps to the front door and rang the bell.

  Beth buzzed back quickly. She lived on the top floor. Anne walked up the three flights slowly. Unreality was making her dizzy. At the top she heard Beth open the door timidly.

  "Anne?"

  Anne hurried the last few steps to the door and stood. Beth was very beautiful, her platinum hair forming a halo around her face. Desire and intensity began to wear away the unreal feeling, making Anne not flesh again exactly but aware of her body, her robot body, now strong and tall and very hard.

  "Come in," Beth said hurriedly, stepping back from the door to give Anne room.

  Anne entered and looked around. It was a pretty apartment, overly decorated with conventional furniture, almost like Carl's study, but in light colors instead of Carl's dark red leather. It was dainty, like Beth.

  Anne let Beth take her jacket and waited for her to come back from the closet. "I got your letter," she said finally.

  "My God, Anne," Beth said, "is that all you came to say?" She was upset and went to the cabinet for a glass of scotch. "It was very embarrassing to ask Rick to leave."

  "Yes, it must have been embarrassing," Anne said. She felt the rage inside of her grow again. Beth was being weak. She went to the cabinet and took the scotch away from Beth's hand. "Has Rick touched you tonight?"

  Beth turned away. "We had just gotten in when you called. I sent him right out again. What do you want, Anne?"

  Anne pulled her close and forced Beth to look at her. "I've come to take you away from him," she said.

  "Don't be insane," Beth turned. "I can't leave yet. We'll have to wait."

  "I won't wait," Anne said. "I don't want you after Rick."