‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Now you do.’
‘It feels wonderful to be well informed,’ she said, and pushed her rump against me and moved it from side to side, rubbing my groin.
I whistled softly, close to her ear.
She asked, ‘Was that for me or for Kirkus?’
I tried to put a hand inside the front of her gown, but she clutched my wrist through the apron. ‘Not now, honey. You better go on back and keep our friend company.’
‘I can help you.’
‘I’ll take care of everything. It’ll just be a couple more minutes. Go on, okay? It’s not polite to leave him alone.’
‘All right.’ I gave the side of her neck a kiss, then returned to the living room. ‘What’s up, Rudolph?’
‘Oh. please.’
I went to the sofa, sat and picked up my drink. My glass was still half-full of my second Hoocha de los Muertos, but the ice had melted. I took a sip. It was still fairly cold.
On the radio, Randy Travis was singing ‘Heroes and Friends.’
‘It’s almost ready,’ I said.
‘I’m in no hurry,’ Kirkus said.
‘Are you having a lovely time?’
‘Quite.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ I dipped a chip into the salsa, then maneuvered it into my mouth without dripping.
As I crunched the chip, Kirkus said, ‘We should do this more often. Next time, I’ll host the affair at my place.’
I almost said, ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ but I was feeling too good to be mean ... even to Kirkus. The aroma of the fajitas was wonderful, Eileen was wearing the wonderful dress, I’d had fine views of her wonderful breasts, I planned to go out later and have a wonderful time with Casey, and I was wonderfully, mildly high from the hoocha. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘just let us know when you want us.’
He raised both eyebrows. ‘Will you really come?’ For a moment, I glimpsed hope and sadness in his eyes. They were quickly hidden. however, behind his usual haughty demeanor.
‘Maybe.’ I said. ‘I guess it’ll depend.’
‘On what, dare I ask?’
‘Let’s just see how things go tonight.’
‘I shall be on my best behavior.’
From out in the kitchen came the beep of the microwave.
‘I’ll prepare my specialty,’ Kirkus said.
‘What’s that?’ I asked him.
‘Pork roast.’
‘Not long pork, I hope.’
He frowned. ‘Long pork?’
Eileen appeared in the kitchen entryway. She had taken off the apron and she was smiling. ‘Come and get it, guys.’
Kirkus and I went to the table and sat down. Eileen took our glasses. ‘Go ahead and get started,’ she said. ‘I’ll make refills.’
‘What should we do?’ I asked.
‘Grab a tortilla, spread it with sour cream or avacado or whatever, throw on some meat and cheese and lettuce, whatever, roll it up and chow down.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ I said.
Soon, she came over with all three glasses full of her special concoction. Then she sat down. She raised her glass and said, ‘Good for what ails ya.’
Kirkus and I picked up our glasses. We all leaned forward and bumped each other’s glasses.
Kirkus sipped his drink. ‘Grande,’ he said. ‘Mucho grande. ’
I sipped mine. ‘Rio Grande.’
Eileen sipped hers and said, ‘Mississippi.’
I hoisted my glass. ‘To Mark Twain.’
‘Oi,’ said Kirkus.
‘You got a problem with Mark Twain?’
‘He’s so plebian. No wonder you adore him. Eduardo.’
‘Huck Finn’s the greatest novel ever written.’ I felt a moment of guilt over betraying William Goldman. But if I’d tried to claim The Temple of Gold or Boys and Girls Together as the greatest novel ...
‘Oh, please,’ Kirkus said.
‘It is.’
‘American,’ Eileen said. ‘Greatest American novel, maybe. Gotta leave out the British and the Irish and the Russians and the French...’
‘What’d the French ever write?’ I asked.
‘Dumas?’ Eileen said. ‘Hello? The Three Musketeers. And De Maupassant.’
‘Let’s not forget Sartre and Camus and the great Simone,’ Kirkus said.
‘I like Simone,’ I proclaimed. ‘He’s good.’
‘She,’ said Kirkus.
‘I like that detective of his, Maigret.’
‘That’s Simenon,’ Eileen corrected me. ‘Georges Simenon.’
‘I was speaking, old boy, of Simone de Beauvoir.’
‘Oh. Of course you were. She sucks.’
Eileen laughed.
‘You must simply adore playing the fool,’ Kirkus told me.
‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘if we can get back to Huckleberry Finn, the greatest American novel ...’
‘Highly overrated,’ said Kirkus.
‘Hemingway says it’s the best.’
‘Proving my point,’ said Kirkus.
‘I’d have to go with Atlas Shrugged,’ Eileen said. That’s the best book I’ve ever read, and they don’t even teach it in school.’
‘They don’t?’ I said.
‘No school I’ve ever heard of. That’s ’cause all the teachers hate her. They lie about her. They won’t teach her books.’Scowling, Eileen spread some sour cream on a steaming, flour tortilla. ‘They’re afraid of every damn thing she ever wrote. Most teachers are commies, in case you haven’t noticed.’
This was a side of Eileen I’d never seen before - the intoxicated side, I suppose.’
‘Commies?’ said Kirkus. ‘Dear me.’
Narrowing one eye at him, Eileen said, ‘My dad fought the goddamn commies in Vietnam. You think there’s something funny about that?’
‘I apologize if I’ve tread on your toes, my dear ... or the toes of your father’s combat boots. But really, communism? You must admit the subject is a trifle passé these days. Which also makes Ayn Rand’s books passé.’
‘Ever read one?’ she asked.
‘I wouldn’t waste my time,’ Kirkus said.
She pointed her fork at me. ‘How about you, Eddie?’
‘I’m afraid not. I’d like to, though.’
She turned her fork to the steak platter and placed a few strips of meat on her tortilla. ‘Atlas Shrugged, The Fountainhead, We the Living. We’re forced to read every goddamn book that ever came down the pike by the chosen few. The Great Gatsby, for godsake. The Pearl, for godsake.’
‘The Scarlet Letter,’ I joined in.
‘Not to mention Madame Ovary,’ she said. ‘What the fuck is that about.’
Kirkus shook his head and looked very disappointed in us.
‘Hundreds of books,’ Eileen continued. ‘Books by every Tom, Dick and Charlie that ever put pen to paper, but Ayn Rand? Huh-uh. Not Rand. She’s better than most of them, nobody’s better, but they try to keep her away from us ’cause they hate her message.’
‘Her message is selfishness, my dear,’ said Kirkus.
Eileen sprinkled grated cheese on top of her beef, then began to roll her tortilla. ‘That’s what they want you to believe, ’cause they don’t want you reading her. Know what her real message is?’
‘I fear you’re about to tell us.’
‘Nobody has a single goddamn right,’ she said, ‘to take what doesn’t belong to them. Like a government, for instance. The government’s got no right to make us do anything ... not even for what they call “the common good.” We’re nobody’s slaves. We have an absolute right to the fruits of our own labor and we don’t owe jack-shit to society. You ever hear of John Galt?’
‘Of course,’ said Kirkus, and sighed. ‘Who is John Galt?’
‘Who is John Galt?’ Eileen asked him.
‘He’s obviously a creation of your literary goddess.’
‘He turned off the lights of the world.’ As she spoke the words, her voice went husky and tears glim
mered in her eyes.
‘And that means?’ asked Kirkus.
‘That’s what they don’t want you to find out,’ said Eileen. She wiped her eyes, then took a drink, then said, ‘Read the book’ and picked up her rolled tortilla.
‘Atlas Shrugged?’ I asked.
She nodded and sniffed.
‘Perhaps I’ll give it a try,’ Kirkus said. ‘A novel capable of reducing the stout Eileen Danforth to tears ...’
‘Watch that “stout” business,’ Eileen said.
‘It was a reference to your character, not your physique.’
‘Something wrong with my physique?’
‘Not at all, deary. From the standpoint of this observer, it’s really quite spectacular.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Is it not truly spectacular, Eduardo?’ he asked me.
‘I’d say so,’ I said. A little worried about his negative, I added, ‘It is.’
‘Of course, he has to say so, being your boyfriend cum loverboy - pun intended, of course - whereas I am truly disinterested and speak the truth without fear of reprisal. From a perspective of complete objectivity, I can say that your physique is truly extraordinary. At least what I’ve seen of it. I’m sure Edward has the advantage over me in that regard.’
I muttered, ‘Jeesh.’
He eyed me. ‘You do have a flair for words, old boy.’ To Eileen, he said, ‘Speaking of which, I understand that the entire gang of ruffians Wednesday night had the pleasure of feasting their eyes on your undraped titties. Seems that everyone has seen them but me.’
Staring at him, she tilted her head sideways. ‘Where did you pick up that bit of news?’
Kirkus looked at me and smiled. ‘Was I not supposed to tell?’
‘What ever happened to “mum’s the word”?’ I asked.
‘I wasn’t aware you meant it to apply to the fair Eileen.’
I groaned.
‘No problem,’ Eileen said. Then she shoved some of her tortilla between her teeth and tore off a mouthful. As she chewed, her eyes again became shiny. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Then she said, ‘Excuse me.’
She shoved back her chair, stood up, and walked out of the kitchen.
From where I sat, I watched her stride across the living room and enter the hall. Moments later, a door shut. She had apparently gone into the bathroom.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Kirkus, and smiled. ‘Do you suppose it was something she ate?’
Chapter Forty-nine
‘Probably something you said,’ I told him.
Looking delighted, he said, ‘Woe is me.’
‘Asshole.’
‘Don’t be too quick to blame me, old boy. She might simply be hurling. Those are powerful drinks. I’m more than a trifle smashed myself.’
‘I’d better go check on her.’
‘Oh, don’t be too hasty. Give her some time. Whatever her problem may be, she would probably rather not have an audience quite yet. Why don’t we both stay here and enjoy the repast before it gets cold? Give Eileen an opportunity to recover in private.’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ I said.
‘I most frequently am.’
‘When she does come out, keep your mouth shut about Wednesday night, okay? The last thing she needs is to have you rubbing it all in. We’re trying to put it behind us.’
‘Quite so,’ said Kirkus. ‘My mistake.’
We both commenced to eat our fajitas. By the time we were done, perhaps ten minutes later, Eileen still had not returned to the table.
‘I’m going to check on her,’ I said, scooting back my chair.
‘Give her my regards,’ said Kirkus.
As I’d suspected, the bathroom door was shut. I knocked gently.
‘What?’
‘Eileen? It’s me.’
‘Leave me alone.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Just go away.’
‘Is it what Kirkus said?’
The door suddenly opened. Eileen grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me in and shut the door. Her eyes were red and wet, her face streaked with tears.
Still clutching my shirt, she said, ‘What did you tell him? Did you tell him everything?’
‘No.’
‘It was suppose to be our secret. How could you blab to him?’
‘I didn’t tell him anything. Not about what really happened. Nothing about under the bridge. All I told him was the stuff we made up about the gang of teenagers jumping us. The same thing we told him Wednesday night.’
‘Oh really? Know what? I don’t recall telling him they ripped off my shirt and feasted their eyes on my undraped titties.’
‘That’s just Kirkus. The undraped stuff.’
‘What else did you tell him?’
‘I think ... well, you told him they pissed in your hair, remember ?’
‘Of course I remember.’
‘I reminded him of that. And I told him that you felt really humiliated by the whole thing and that’s why you didn’t want anyone to know about it.’
‘What else?’
‘That’s about it.’
‘About it?’
My face heated up.
If she didn’t hear it from me, she might hear it from Kirkus. ‘I think I mentioned something about them touching you.’
‘Touching me?’
‘Fondling you.’
‘Where?’
‘I guess your breasts.’
‘You told Kirkus they fondled my breasts?’
‘I think I mentioned something along those lines.’
‘Thanks a lot.’
‘He’s gay.’
‘That makes it all right?’
‘It was just so he’d understand why he has to keep his mouth shut.’
‘Well, thanks a lot.’
‘I’m sorry. If I’d known it would upset you like this, I never would’ve told him anything.’
‘What else did you tell him?’
‘Nothing. That’s it.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Pretty sure.’
‘You didn’t figure it would make a better story if they fucked me?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I appreciate your restraint.’
‘Come on, Eileen, don’t be this way.’
‘And what way am I being?’
‘You’re blowing it all out of proportion. I mean, the whole idea was to make him realize how humiliated you’d feel if he told anyone...’
‘Really should’ve had me gangbanged.’
‘Cut it out.’
‘What’d you tell him about you? You’ve got a bunch of creeps ripping off my clothes and feasting their eyes on my undraped tittles and groping me, what’d they do to you? Seems sorta one-sided if you ask me. You’re making stuff up, why not have them tear off your clothes and grope you. Hell, that would’ve made a better story, don’t you think? Considering Kirkus.’
‘Maybe.’
‘I mean, you’re the one he’s got the hots for.’
‘You were the one wearing my shirt when we ran into him Wednesday night.’
Her eyes widened slightly. Her mouth opened as if she were about to say something. She blinked a few times. Then she said, ‘Oh.’ Then she said, ‘That’s a point.’ Then she said, ‘Even still.’
I put my arms around her. ‘I’m sorry I told him all that stuff.’
‘It’s just... if it just wasn’t Kirkus. He’s such a shit. I don’t like him knowing stuff like that. Or thinking stuff about me. Thinking about me naked.’
‘He’s gay,’ I said again.
‘Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t.’
‘I’m pretty sure he is.’
‘Even still.’ She pushed her face against the side of my neck. It felt warm and wet. She sniffed. ‘And I’ve gotta be wearing this stupid dress.’
‘It’s a wonderful dress.’
‘In front of him.’
‘He doesn’t care.’
; ‘Oh, I bet.’
‘Shall we go out and ask him?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’
‘You shouldn’t be.’
‘And I drank too much.’
‘We all did.’
‘But I’m the one who fell apart right in front of God and everyone.’
‘I’m sure God forgives you. I know I do, and who cares if Kirkus does?’
She stroked the back of my head. ‘I love you so much, Eddie.’
‘Now I know you’re drunk.’
‘I do. I’ve loved you from the very start, even when you were going with Holly. Did you know that?’
‘Not really.’ The sound of Holly’s name gave my stomach a twist.
‘You never even suspected, did you?’
‘No.’
‘I know. I never let anyone know how I felt. It was just for me to know. But I ached inside. I ached for you. It hurt so much to see her with you that way. I wanted so much for it to be me.’
‘And now it is,’ I said. The words made me feel like a louse.
Eileen hugged me hard and kissed the side of my neck. ‘I’m so glad,’ she said. ‘I’m so glad.’
‘We should probably get back to the kitchen,’ I said. ‘You’ll feel better after you’ve had some more to eat.’
She nodded. Then she took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But I ... I need to change first.’
‘Change how?’
She laughed and sniffed. ‘My clothes. I don’t want Kirkus seeing me in this again. Even if he is gay.’
‘He is.’
‘Can I wear something of yours?’
‘Whatever you want.’
We let go of each other. I opened the bathroom door and Eileen followed me into the hallway.
‘I’ll just be a minute,’ she said, and headed for my bedroom.
‘See you later,’ I said.
I found Kirkus on the living room sofa, the remains of a drink in one hand, his legs crossed. At the sight of me, he said, ‘I was beginning to feel abandoned.’
‘Eileen’ll be along in a minute.’
‘How is she?’
‘Pretty upset.’
‘Not with me, I hope.’
‘With both of us. She didn’t like me telling you that stuff. She thought it was too personal.’
‘We embarrassed her?’
I nodded.
‘How peculiar.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Did you by any remote chance happen to notice what she’s wearing? And she’s thrown into a tizzy by a few words regarding the very assets she is so brazenly displaying for all the world to see?’
Night in the Lonesome October Page 26