by Jane Bowles
"I once was in love with an older woman," said Mrs. Copperfield eagerly, "She was no longer beautiful, but in her face I found fragments of beauty which were much more exciting to me than any beauty that I have known at its height. But who hasn't loved an older person? Good Lord!"
"You like things which are not what other people like, don't you? I would like to have this experience of loving an older woman. I think that is sweet, but I really am always in love with some nice man. It is lucky for me, I think. Some of the girls, they can't fall in love any more. They only think of money, money, money. You don't think so much about money, do you?" She asked Mrs. Copperfield.
"No, I don't."
"Now we rest a little while, yes?" The girl lay down on the bed and motioned to Mrs. Copperfield to lie down beside her. She yawned, folded Mrs. Copperfield's hand in her own, and fell asleep almost instantly. Mrs. Copperfield thought that she might as well get some sleep too. At that moment she felt very peaceful.
They were awakened by a terrific knocking at the door. Mrs. Copperfield opened her eyes and in a second she was a prey to the most overwhelming terror. She looked at Pacifica, and her friend's face was not very much more reassuring than her own.
"Callate!" she whispered to Mrs. Copperfield reverting to her native tongue.
"What is it? What is it?" asked Mrs. Copperfield in a harsh voice. "I don't understand Spanish."
"Don't say a word," repeated Pacifica in English.
"I can't lie here without saying a word. I know I can't. What is it?"
"Drunken man. In love with me. I know him well. He hurt me very bad when I sleep with him. His boat has come in again."
The knocking grew more insistent and they heard a man's voice saying:
"I know you are there, Pacifica, so open the bloody door."
"Oh, open it, Pacifica!" pleaded Mrs. Copperfield, jumping up from the bed. "Nothing could be worse than this suspense."
"Don't be crazy. Maybe he is drunk enough and he will go away."
Mrs. Copperfield's eyes were glazed. She was becoming hysterical.
"No, no—I have always promised myself that I would open the door if someone was trying to break in. He will be less of an enemy then. The longer he stays out there, the angrier he will get. The first thing I will say to him when I open the door is: 'We are your friends,' and then perhaps he will be less angry."
"If you make me even more crazy than I am I don't know what to do," said Pacifica. "Now we just wait here and see if he goes away. We might move this bureau against the door. Will you help me move it against the door?"
"I can't push anything!" Mrs. Copperfield was so weak that she slid along the wall onto the floor.
"Have I got to break the God-damned door in?" the man was saying.
Mrs. Copperfield rose to her feet, staggered over to the door, and opened it.
The man who came in was hatchet-faced and very tall. He had obviously had a great deal to drink.
"Hello, Meyer," said Pacifica. "Can't you let me get some sleep?" She hesitated a minute, and as he did not answer her she said again: "I was trying to get some sleep."
"I was tight asleep," said Mrs. Copperfield. Her voice was higher than usual and her face was very bright, "I am sorry we did not hear you right away. We must have kept you waiting a long time."
"Nobody ever kept me waiting a long time," said Meyer, getting redder in the face. Pacifica's eyes were narrowing. She was beginning to lose her temper.
"Get out of my room," she said to Meyer.
In answer to this, Meyer fell diagonally across the bed, and the impact of his body was so great that it almost broke the slats.
"Let's get out of here quickly," said Mrs. Copperfield to Pacifica. She was no longer able to show any composure. For one moment she had hoped that the enemy would suddenly burst into tears as they do sometimes in dreams, but now she was convinced that this would not happen. Pacifica was growing more and more furious.
"Listen to me, Meyer," she was saying. "You go back into the street right away. Because I'm not going to do anything with you except hit you in the nose if you don't go away. If you were not such hot stuff we could sit downstairs together and drink a glass of rum. I have hundreds of boy friends who just like to talk to me and drink with me until they are stiffs under the table. But you always try to bother me. You are like an ape-man. I want to be quiet."
"Who the hell cares about your house!" Meyer bellowed at her. "I could put all your houses together in a row and shoot at them like they were ducks. A boat's better than a house any day! Any time! Come rain, come shine! Come the end of the world!"
"No one is talking about houses except you," said Pacifica, stamping her foot, "and I don't want to listen to your foolish talk."
"Why did you lock the door, then, if you weren't living in this house like you were duchesses having tea together, and praying that none of us were ever going to come on shore again. You were afraid I'd spoil the furniture and spill something on the floor. My mother had a house, but I always slept in the house next door to her house. That's how much I care about houses!"
"You misunderstand," said Mrs. Copperfield in a trembling voice. She wanted very much to remind him gently that this was not a house but a room in a hotel. However, she felt not only afraid but ashamed to make this remark.
"Jesus Christ, I'm disgusted," Pacifica said to Mrs. Copperfield without even bothering to lower her voice.
Meyer did not seem to hear this, but instead he leaned over the edge of the bed with a smile on his face and stretched one arm towards Pacifica. He managed to get hold of the hem of her slip and pull her towards him.
"Not as long as I live!" Pacifica screamed at him, but he had already wrapped his arms around her waist and he was kneeling on the bed, pulling her towards him.
"Housekeeper," he said, laughing, "I'll bet if I took you out to sea you'd vomit. You'd mess up the boat. Now lie down here and stop talking,"
Pacifica looked darkly at Mrs. Copperfield for a moment. "Well then," she said, "give me first the money, because I don't trust you. I will sleep with you only for my rent."
He dealt her a terrific blow on the mouth and split her lip. The blood started to run down her chin.
Mrs. Copperfield rushed out of the room. "I'll get help, Pacifica," she yelled over her shoulder. She ran down the hall and down the stairs, hoping to find someone to whom she could report Pacifica's plight, but she knew she would not have the courage to approach any men. On the ground floor she caught sight of a middle-aged woman who was knitting in her room with the door ajar, Mrs. Copperfield rushed in to her.
"Do you know Pacifica?" she gasped.
"Certainly I know Pacifica," said the woman. She spoke like an Englishwoman who has lived for many years among Americans. "I know everybody that lives here for more than two nights. I'm the proprietor of this hotel."
"Well then, do something quickly. Mr. Meyer is in there and he's very drunk."
"I don't do anything with Meyer when he's drunk." The woman was silent for a moment and the idea of doing something with Meyer struck her sense of humor and she chuckled. "Just imagine it," she said, " 'Mr. Meyer, will you kindly leave the room? Pacifica is tired of you. Ha-ha-ha—Pacifica is tired of you.' Have a seat, lady, and calm down. There's some gin in that cut-glass decanter over there next to the avocados. Would you like some?"
"You know I'm not used to violence," Mrs. Copperfield said. She helped herself to some gin, and repeated that she was not used to violence. "I doubt that I shall ever get over this evening. The stubbornness of that man. He was like an insane person."
"Meyer isn't insane," said the proprietress. "Some of them are much worse. He told me he was very fond of Pacifica. I've always been decent to him and he's never given me any trouble."
They heard screams from the next floor. Mrs. Copperfield recognized Pacifica's voice.
"Oh, please, let's get the police," pleaded Mrs. Copperfield.
"Are you crazy?" said the woman. "Pacif
ica doesn't want to get mixed up with the police. She would rather have both legs chopped off. I can promise you that is true."
"Well then, let's go up there," said Mrs. Copperfield. "I'm ready to do anything."
"Keep seated, Mrs.—what's your name? My name is Mrs. Quill."
"I'm Mrs. Copperfield."
"Well, you see, Mrs. Copperfield, Pacifica can take care of herself better than we can take care of her. The fewer people that get involved in a thing, the better off everybody is. That's one law I have here in the hotel."
"All right," said Mrs. Copperfield, "but meanwhile she might be murdered."
"People don't murder as easy as that. They do a lot of hitting around but not so much murdering. I've had some murders here, but not many. I've discovered that most things turn out all right. Of course some of them turn out bad."
"I wish I could feel as relaxed as you about everything. I don't understand how you can sit here, and I don't understand how Pacifica can go through things like this without ending up in an insane asylum."
"Well, she's had a lot of experience with these men. I don't think site's scared really. She's much tougher than us. She's just bothered. She likes to be able to have her room and do what she likes. I think sometimes women don't know what they want. Do you think maybe she has a little yen for Meyer?"
"How could she possibly? I don't understand what you mean."
"Well now, that boy she says she's in love with; now, I don't really think she's in love with him at all. She's had one after another of them like that. All nice dopes. They worship the ground she walks on. I think she gets so jealous and nervous while Meyer's away that she likes to pretend to herself that she likes these other little men better. When Meyer comes back she really believes she's mad at him for interfering. Now, maybe I'm right and maybe I'm wrong, but I think it goes a little something like that."
"I think it's impossible. She wouldn't allow him to hurt her, then, before she went to bed with him."
"Sure she would," said Mrs. Quill, "but I don't know anything about such things. Pacifica's a nice girl, though. She comes front a nice family too."
Mrs. Copperfield drank her gin and enjoyed it.
"She'll be coming down here soon to have a talk," said Mrs. Quill. "It's balmy here and they all enjoy themselves. They talk and they drink and they make love; they go on picnics; they go to the movies; they dance, sometimes all night long. ... I need never be lonely unless I want to. ... I can always go and dance with them if I feel like it. I have a fellow who takes me out to the dancing places whenever I want to go and I can always string along. I love it here. Wouldn't go back home for a load of monkeys. It's hot sometimes, but mostly balmy, and nobody's in a hurry. Sex doesn't interest me and I sleep like a baby. I am never bothered with dreams unless I eat something which sits on my stomach. You have to pay a price when you indulge yourself. I have a terrific yen for lobster à la Newburg, you see. I know exactly what I'm doing when I eat it. I go to Bill Grey's restaurant I should say about once every month with this fellow."
"Go on," said Mrs. Copperfield, who was enjoying this.
"Well, we order lobster à la Newburg. I tell you it's the most delicious thing in the world. . . ."
"How do you like frogs' legs?" asked Mrs. Copperfield.
"Lobster à la Newburg for me."
"You sound so happy I have a feeling I'm going to nestle right in here, in this hotel. How would you like that?"
"You do what you want to with your own life. That's my motto. For how long would you want to stay?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Mrs. Copperfield, "Do you think I'd have fun here?"
"Oh, no end of fun," said the proprietess. "Dancing, drinking ... all the things that are pleasant in this world. You don't need much money, you know. The men come off the ships with their pockets bulging. I tell you this place is God's own town, or maybe the Devil's," She laughed heartily.
"No end of fun," she repeated. She got up from her chair with some difficulty and went over to a box-like phonograph which stood in the corner of the room. After winding it up she put on a cowboy song.
"You can always listen to this," she said to Mrs. Copperfield, "whenever your little heart pleases. There are the needles and the records and all you've got to do is wind it up. When I'm not here, you can sit in this rocker and listen, I've got famous people singing on those records like Sophie Tucker and Al Jolson from the United States, and I say that music is the ear s wine."
"And I suppose reading would be very pleasant in this room —at the same time that one listened to the gramophone," said Mrs. Copperfield.
"Reading—you can do all the reading you want."
They sat for some time listening to records and drinking gin. After an hour or so Mrs. Quill saw Pacifica coming down the hall. "Now," she said to Mrs. Copperfield, "here comes your friend."
Pacifica had on a little silk dress and bedroom slippers. She had made up her face very carefully and she had perfumed herself.
"Look what Meyer brought me," she said, coming towards them and showing them a very large wrist watch with a radium dial. She seemed to be in a very pleasant mood.
"You been talking here one to the other," she said, smiling at them kindly. "Now suppose we all three of us go and take a walk through the street and get some beer or whatever we want."
"That would be nice," said Mrs. Copperfield. She was beginning to worry a bit about Mr. Copperfield. He hated her to disappear this way for a long time because it gave him an unbalanced feeling and interfered very much with his sleep. She promised herself to drop by the room and let him know that she was still out, but the very idea of going near the hotel made her shudder.
"Hurry up, girls," said Pacifica.
They went back to the quiet restaurant where Pacifica had taken Mr. and Mrs. Copperfield to dinner. Opposite was a very large saloon all lighted up. There was a ten-piece band playing there, and it was so crowded that the people were dancing in the streets.
Mrs. Quill said: "Oh boy, Pacifica! There's the place where you could have the time of your life tonight. Look at the time they're having."
"No, Mrs. Quill," said Pacifica. "We can stay here fine. The light is not so bright and it is more quiet and then we will go to bed."
"Yes," said Mrs. Quill, her face falling. Mrs. Copperfield thought she saw in Mrs. Quill's eyes a terribly pained and thwarted look.
"I'll go there tomorrow night," said Mrs. Quill softly. "It doesn't mean a thing. Every night they have those dances. That's because the boats never stop coming in. The girls are never tired either," she said to Mrs. Copperfield. "That's because they sleep all they want in the daytime. They can sleep as well in the daytime as they do at night. They don't get tired. Why should they? It doesn't make you tired to dance. The music carries you along."
"Don't be a fool," said Pacifica. "They're always tired."
"Well, which is it?" asked Mrs. Copperfield.
"Oh," said Mrs. Quill, "Pacifica is always looking on the darkest side of life. She's the gloomiest thing I ever knew."
"I don't look at the dark side, I look at the truth. You're a little foolish sometimes, Mrs. Quill."
"Don't talk to me that way when you know how much I love you," said Mrs. Quill, her lips beginning to tremble.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Quill," said Pacifica gravely.
"There is something very lovable about Pacifica," Mrs. Copperfield thought to herself. "I believe she takes everyone quite seriously."
She took Pacifica's hand in her own.
"In a minute we're going to have something nice to drink," she said, smiling up at Pacifica. "Aren't you glad?"
"Yes, it will be nice to have something to drink," said Pacifica politely; but Mrs. Quill understood the gaiety of it. She rubbed her hands together and said: "I'm with you."
Mrs. Copperfield looked out into the street and saw Meyer walking by. He was with two blondes and some sailors.
"There goes Meyer," she said. The other two women looked across
the street and they all watched him disappear.
Mr. and Mrs. Copperfield had gone over to Panama City for two days. The first day after lunch Mr. Copperfield proposed a walk towards the outskirts of the city. It was the first thing he always did when he arrived in a new place. Mrs. Copperfield hated to know what was around her, because it always turned out to be even stranger than she had feared.
They walked for a long time. The streets began to look all alike. On one side they went gradually uphill, and on the other they descended abruptly to the muddy regions near the sea. The stone houses were completely colorless in the hot sun. All the windows were heavily grilled; there was very little sign of life anywhere. They came to three naked boys struggling with a football, and turned downhill towards the water. A woman dressed in black silk came their way slowly. When they had passed her she turned around and stared at them shamelessly. They looked over their shoulders several times and they could still see her standing there watching them.
The tide was out. They made their way along the muddy beach. Back of them there was a huge stone hotel built in front of a low cliff, so that it was already in the shade. The mud flats and the water were still in the sunlight. They walked along until Mr. Copperfield found a large, flat rock for them to sit on.
"It's so beautiful here," he said.
A crab ran along sideways in the mud at their feet.
"Oh, look!" said Mr. Copperfield. "Don't you love them?"
"Yes, I do love them," she answered, but she could not suppress a rising feeling of dread as she looked around her at the landscape. Someone had painted the words Cerveza—Beer in green letters on the facade of the hotel.
Mr. Copperfield rolled up his trousers and asked if she would care to go barefoot to the edge of the water with him.
"I think I've gone far enough," she said.
"Are you tired?" he asked her.
"Oh, no. I'm not tired." There was such a pained expression on her face as she answered him that he asked her what the trouble was.