Frog

by Stephen Dixon

  It was about a year after. Working at a catering place delivering orders when the man who sends him out on them holds up a wrapped tray of canapés and says “This customer a relative of yours?” “Why, Tetch? Could be, as it’s an unusual one,” and the man says “A Mrs. Howard,” and he says “That’s my first name.” “I know, only making a joke; where’s your sense of humor?” and gives him the tray and another order and exact change for both out of a ten and he goes, few blocks away rings the bell downstairs which has the apartment number he wants but the name Chandler on it. “Yes?” a woman says. “Delivery, ma’am, for Mrs. Howard, do I have the right place?” and she says “Sure, you got it, darling,” and he’s rung in, goes upstairs, apartment door’s opening right across from the elevator when he’s getting out of it, woman in a bathrobe belted tight, Chippy, has to be, doesn’t seem to recognize him or show she does, same style bright red hair, same soap smell or something coming toward him as he goes to her, very white skin, freckles around her nose, he doesn’t know if the bathrobe’s the same one as before, what the hell’s she doing in a regular apartment in a nice apartment building twenty blocks from her hotel? “How much they sticking me for?” she says, taking the canapés, looks at the bill taped to it, he’s already excited, gives him a five, he gives her change, puts a quarter into his hand and says “Here, go and buy yourself a cigar.” “Thank you,” and just as she’s shutting the door he says “Chippy?” and she looks at him and says “What’d you say?—forget it,” and continues closing the door and he sticks his foot in it, though he had no thought to, it just got there, and says “I know you, Chippy, I went to you about a year ago,” and she says “You got to have the wrong party for whatever you mean, little mister. The name’s Howard, like on the order slip, and if you’re saying you don’t like the tip I gave you, though I don’t know anyone else who wouldn’t think it generous, give it here,” and holds her hand out and he says “Yeah, the order slip, but not like on the bell downstairs.” “That’s my friend’s name downstairs, but what’s it to you? Now I’m telling you, he isn’t home now but the super is, and if that doesn’t get you moving, I’ll call the cops and have you run in. Now get your foot away,” and he says “Listen, I don’t mean trouble and will go when you want me to, so you don’t have to call anyone, but I remember everything about you, even the robe but maybe a different color. Can I come in since nobody’s there. I can pay,” and she says “Shut up,” looks around, “Get in, you stupid kid,” and he does, she shuts and locks the door. “You got ten bucks? And you better be quick about it too, since I got someone coming here soon for these canapés,” and puts them on the table by the door. “If not, then you got to scoot.” “It used to be five,” and she says “Ten now. Five, if it was five then, was maybe the last time I used that price,” and she touches his erection through the pants and says “Look at you, ready to roll. Come on, hand it over or go,” and he says “Can’t we do it for nothing?” and she says “You crazy? Get out of here if that’s what you’re thinking,” and starts pushing him to the door, and he says “Then just a handjob for nothing? I won’t take long and then I’ll leave right after. For the truth is I have no money but the quarter you gave me, as I just came on at work and yours was the first tip of the day,” and she says “Oh brother, you really pulled a fast one on me. And everybody who says it won’t take long, even you kids, takes forever. What the hell my going to do with you now?” and he says “Please, I’ll bring customers like Ellis did,” and she says “I don’t need customers; I’ve enough, even by charging ten,” and he says “Please, I’m really ready as I said; it’ll take ten seconds,” and she says “Oh, to get rid of you, come in here,” and he follows her into the bathroom, “Pull your stupid pants down,” he does, she grabs his penis and pulls him to the toilet by it, lifts the seat and starts jerking him over the bowl. He’s still holding the other order by the string and drops it to the floor, gets so excited he falls to his knees, she says “Get up, I don’t want it on the floor,” he grabs her legs under the robe to hold on to, moves his hands up, nothing on, feels hair, the hole, sticks his fingers from both hands in, “What’re you doing? I didn’t say any of that, and get up. Hell with you, finish it off yourself,” and she lets go of him and leaves the bathroom, he gets up and finishes it off in a few seconds and washes up and comes out with the order and she says “I’m really pissed at you. I should even ask for my quarter back, you little brat. Now get the hell out, and I hope you didn’t mess up my fucking bathroom,” and he says “I didn’t; I did it into the bowl and cleaned up without a trace. A kiss?” and puts out his face and she says “I’ll kiss you one, with my fist—you probably messed up all my linens in there; just get going and don’t bother ever coming back, you’re off my list for good,” and opens the door and shoves him out. He calls some of his friends from work, says what happened, she jerked him off while he had his fingers in her, she was all excited and he would’ve screwed her but she wanted too much and he thought this for nothing is better than screwing for ten bucks, and when they meet that night, five of them, one says “Hey, let’s go visit her. We’ll get ourselves in somehow and ask her to screw us all for free or just jerk us all off. She doesn’t want to, we’ll threaten her, bring knives but keep them under our coats till we have to show them. Shit, handjobs she can do two at a time and then we’ll be out of there fast as Howard, we’ll tell her. She doesn’t want to do anything, we’ll also say we’ll tell the cops about her, and the knives only as a last resort and just to scare her, of course. He says “Not me, she could have cops there as customers when we try to push ourselves in, or just a customer with a gun or something or just something like acid to throw at our faces herself,” and this guy says “If cops are there, which isn’t too likely, we’ll say ‘Sorry, we had our appointments with her mixed up,’ or we thought we could come by without calling her, and as for the other things, hardly.” “I can get in trouble, she knows where I work,” and another of them says “A whore’s going to make trouble for you? She’ll never show her face. That’s the point, I guess. That once we get in she’s got to do what we say, since there’s five of us and it’s not like we want to be future customers of hers. We only want this once and she’s a sitting duck for us since we know where she is and what she does.” He still says no but doesn’t want to miss out on the excitement and maybe getting laid and another handjob but this one finished by her and even a blow-job as someone else says they might also be able to make her do while she’s giving two others handjobs, so he says “OK, yeah, sure, but do we have to take knives?” and they go to one of their apartments first, say hello to their friend’s mother and that they only came up for some cold water and soda and go to the kitchen, get kitchen knives there and put them under their coats or in their belts, Howard and another guy don’t want to but one of the others say “Everybody, we’re in on this together, all for one and do or die and that sort of shit,” say goodbye to their friend’s mother, go to Chippy’s building, decide while they walk what to say and who’s to say it, ring her vestibule bell, “Yes?” she says, “Rowers from Mr. Tibbs, the florist, ma’am,” guy who was chosen to speak says, “Bullshit, flowers, beat it or I’ll call the police,” and they ring several bells in the building, has about twenty apartments, four to five to a floor, a few people say “What? Hello? Who is it? Who’s there?” but nobody rings back, ring some other bells and more people ask questions which they don’t answer but one rings them in, they stay quiet downstairs, a man yells down “Is that you, Thomas?” the spokesman yells up “Sorry, sir, wrong building, made a mistake,” and points to the front door and makes hand motions and another of them opens it and lets it slam. They wait, door upstairs closes, five minutes, then go up, spokesman knocks on her door, others stay to the sides or crouched on the floor but out of view of the peephole, “Yes?” she says, “Rowers from Mr. Tibbs, ma’am, and has to be signed,” “I’m not expecting flowers or anyone, so goodbye,” “No, it’s true, ma’am, just doing my job—open u
p and you’ll see,” and she says “Even if you put a basket of bouquets in front of the hole here I wouldn’t open up, so you better get moving or I’m calling the police right now,” and one of them from the floor says “Whore’s gonna call the cops?” “Fuck you, dopos, you’ve been warned,” and goes away from the door, comes back a few minutes later while they’re figuring out what to do next, stay here, leave, ring again and say there’s just two of them and they’re friends of Ellis and will give her ten bucks each to get laid and then when she lets them in to grab her and make her do whatever they want for free, and says “They’re coming, have fun, boys, for if you don’t think they do favors for me and that I also wouldn’t press charges, you’re crazy.” “Let’s go,” Howard says, and the spokesman says “She’s full of it,” and he says “What if she is? She’s not opening up, we’re never getting in there, and I’m going before something I don’t like happens,” and starts downstairs, they follow him, outside he says “Let me ask you. What if she had her pimp with her and it was his apartment she was working out of or if she had called him instead of the cops to deal with us and he had come up from downstairs while we were there? Those guys got real weapons and can be very mean and rough,” and one of them says “Why didn’t we think of that? I know I sure wouldn’t have tried what we did if someone had brought it up.”