You Can Never Spit It All Out

by Moore, Ralph Robert

  "You have to eat now! I prepared all this food. It's going to get cold."

  Emily noticed the woman in the floppy hat standing next to Russell was taking long gulps of her drink. Chin going back. She seemed tipsy.

  "Finish your drinks! Hurry up! Emily, you still have half your drink left! Chug it!"

  Emily smiled at Vickie. Didn't lift her drink to her lips.

  "Drink it! Come on! You're holding up Ben!"

  "Actually, I'm not that hungry. Ben, why don't you get some food for yourself, while I finish my drink." She smiled at Vickie. "In my own time."

  Vickie's lips turned into a snarl. "Some people have such poor manners!" She reached her hand out, towards Emily, laughing. "Not you, Emily. I was just thinking of this woman I knew, who had really, really bad manners. She was a real, just a, I don't know, a cunt. A cunt who didn't fit in with my crowd. Oh, look! She thinks I'm talking about her!" She poked Emily's hand, sloshing the drink. "I'm kidding! That's just my sense of humor! Ben'll explain it all to you. I can't believe you took it personal!"

  Emily squared her thin shoulders. Lifted her chin. "I think it's obvious you're insulting me."

  Vickie swung her head around. "Well, I don't know why you would think that. If you feel I'm insulting you, I'm sorry you misinterpreted it that way. Are you on any medications?"

  "No, I'm not."

  "Here's what I always do to make myself feel better. Just close your eyes a minute."

  "I feel fine already."

  "Close your eyes! What's wrong with you? I'm the hostess! This is my party! You won't close your eyes a moment when I ask you to?"

  She was Ben's sponsor, Emily didn't really want to create a rift between them, so against her better judgment she smiled and said, "Okay."

  She closed her eyes.

  Vickie's face filled with rage. She leaned her face forward, sticking her tongue out at Emily.

  Everyone else looked away.

  "Okay, open your eyes!"

  Emily looked at Vickie.

  "Did that make you feel better?"

  "Not really."

  "Well, it made me feel a lot better." Her big teeth laughed, as she swung her head around at the others. Came back to Emily. "Nobody gets what they want in life. Except me! It's all about me!" She thrust her two thumbs up in the air. "I won! I got you to close your eyes. Two cheers for Vickie!"

  After Vickie moved on, Ben pulled his long hair away from his face. Opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again. "I'm really sorry. That's the way she is."

  "How do you put up with her?"

  "That's her. What can I tell you? If she didn't sponsor my racing car, I wouldn't have anything to do with her. But she does pay for the car, so I have to at least stay on her good side until I've won some races, and can finance my career myself. You handled yourself really well."

  "Who was that woman in the hat, who kept knocking back the drinks?"

  "That's Greta. Russell's wife."

  That surprised her. "I assumed Vickie and Russell were a couple."

  "Well, they are."

  "Does his wife know?"

  "Probably. But Vickie's the landlord on Greta's gourmet cheese shop, and I think she's a couple of months behind rent, so maybe she doesn't say a lot."

  Once they finished eating, away from Vickie and her crowd, Emily made her way up to the main house, to use one of the bathrooms.

  After she flushed, she opened the small window above the towel rack. No sense of urgency in getting back to the lawn party. There were plenty of other bathrooms on the first floor guests could use.

  Standing in front of the medicine cabinet's streaked mirror. Fingers of her right hand curling under the bottom of her tee-shirt, raising her chin, but eyes still in the mirror, she lifted the shirt up. Above her hourglass abdomen, up over her breasts, exposing them. Turned her narrow shoulders left, right, studying her breasts' reflection. Still firm, still high. Like looking at two apples in a bowl, to see if they're still fresh, if they're still going to crunch when you bite into them.

  Lit a cigarette, by the white porcelain sink. Blue eyes going into herself, like they often did when she was alone. In her one-room apartment, no air-conditioning.

  Could she fit in here?

  If she didn't have real feelings for Ben, it wouldn't be an issue. But she did care for him. What would it be like, to live in the country? In a small town? To go to the local shops where the owner and the other customers knew who you were? Greeted you by name? Smiled at you, instead of giving you a cold look? What would it be like to live in an actual house, with your husband, maybe kids eventually? Although she wasn't at all a housewife type, she let herself imagine for a moment how she'd decorate Ben's place. It wouldn't cost much money. This morning at breakfast, in his kitchen, she had looked out the window into his backyard. A big crepe myrtle, covered in pink blossoms. She knew, although she didn't know how she knew, that crepes needed to have their branches trimmed back each Fall. Like an addict teasing himself, letting just a little bit of junk into his veins, pushing down just a little bit on the plunger of the syringe, she allowed an image to come into her thoughts. Behind her motionless blue eyes. Her in their backyard, blue jeans and a sweater. Raising her hands up, fingers around a pair of pruning shears. Snipping.

  Wet blue eyes looking around the small bathroom.

  Cigarette dropped in the toilet. Handle pushed down to flush. Checked her face in the mirror. Ran the cold water tap. Catching the water in her cupped right palm. Bringing the coolness up to her lips to drink.

  Opened the bathroom door.

  "Hey, Girly."

  Russell, standing in the entrance. Blocking her.

  Outside the small window she had opened, the far-off sounds of the guests. Laughter, children shrieking. The band arriving.

  "Mind moving out of my way?" She lifted her jaw.

  His round face spread. Big grin. "I think you're bluffing. 'Mind moving out of the way'? Really? I could slap that haughty look off your face and get you down on your knees naked just using one hand."

  "What do you want?"

  Russell gave a laugh of genuine delight. Eyes looking her up and down. "I like a woman who shows her bare arms. Makes the world a more cheerful place. The fuck you think I want, Girly? You think I waited patiently out here to ask if I could borrow your lipstick?"

  "If you don't move out of my way, right now, I'm going to scream at the top of my lungs. And how are you going to explain that to Vickie?"

  "Are you really. That's your plan? You think Vickie is going to come to your rescue? The same Vickie that positively hates you right now because she caught me last night looking you over?"

  Emily pushed against his chest. "Move!"

  Like pushing against a tree trunk.

  Russell licked his lips. "Well, you just got to touch me, so I guess that means now I get to touch you. In the same general area."

  Reaching out his right hand. Squeezed her breast.

  She went to slap him. He grabbed her wrist. Like catching a fish that jumped up inside a rowboat. Cackled. Yanked her closer. Licked his tongue up the side of her protesting face. Chin to eyebrow. Like she was an ice cream cone.

  "No!"

  "Well, all right then. 'No.' I love a good 'No', because my daddy always told me, if you unzip a 'No', you'll likely find a big, wet, warm 'Yes' inside." Let go her wrist.

  She backed into the sink. Looking around for a weapon.

  "Here's the thing? You ain't gonna say nothing. Why would you? If you do say something, I'll just tell Vickie you came on to me. Vickie and me are close. Real close. And Ben will lose her sponsorship. Which means no car. And you can't be a race car driver if you don't have a car. They don't just let you run around the race track, alongside the other cars, using a cardboard box. Maybe you didn't know that. I'll tell Ben too. Our boy Ben, he don't know you that well yet. I'm sure he's fucked you. And you probably sucked his cock once or twice already, like any girlfriend in training, probably did it real goo
d too, using your lips and using the tips of your fingers, maybe letting that wild red hair of yours fall across the insides of thighs, trying to drive him crazy, trying to pass the audition. But the truth is, I've fucked every other woman in this town, so it wouldn't come as a real surprise to him that I found a way to fuck you too. Then you're gone. You're polluted. He don't want to kiss lips that been wrapped around this devil may care cock of mine. So you say something, anything, he's never gonna want your sorry ass. No more breathing fresh country air for you. Back to being stuck in the city, worrying about bills again, watching them pile up, phone ringing all the time, getting older every day you rise from your bed and look in the mirror with toothpaste on your lips.

  "Another woman would be strong enough to stand up to me. But not you." That nasty grin, tongue behind the teeth. "You got a chink. And I'm gonna hammer away at that chink until you split open for dear old Russell. And there ain't nothing you can do except listen to the clangs while I pound away at that chink, working it open. You're dirt, Girly. And nobody cares about dirt, because there's so much of it around."

  He shrugged his body builder shoulders. "I wanted to squeeze your breast since I first saw you last night, and now I did. That's my right. You know I did, I know I did. Now I'm gonna go back to the party, and get me some more chicken. You throw up in the toilet if you have to, splash cold water up on your face, do whatever you need to do. Just like all the rest of us gotta do whatever we have to do. But remember. The moment you open your mouth and talk about this, to anyone, is the moment you get cast out from this garden of Eden."

  By the time Emily made her way back down to the lake shore. The fireworks were starting.

  A rocket flared up against the darkening blue sky. Moment of nothing, a loud, retina-startling explosion. Brilliantly-lit colors streaming down.

  "Are you okay?"

  She put her arm around Ben's waist. "Yeah! I had a cigarette."

  While she was gone, Ben had been joined at the shore by Vickie. And then Russell. So they were standing right next to her.

  Vickie, shrieking at the latest launch. Poked Ben's shoulder. "Is this the best Fourth of July party anyone's ever thrown?" She poked Ben's shoulder again. "Isn't it?"

  "Absolutely."

  She put a hand on his shoulder. "It was almost a bust." She turned to Emily. "My air-conditioning went out last night. They wouldn't come out until this morning. That's gonna cost them! Did you ever notice, when the air-conditioning goes out, and the rooms get warm, that you get more cockroaches in your house? I had them everywhere. On the walls, the drapes."

  Emily forced a smile. "I don't have air-conditioning."

  "Well, then you must have cockroaches all the time! Yuck!"

  Ben took a long pull on his drink. Some of it spilling down his lower lip. Emily dabbed his chin with a Kleenex. Reassuring to her, to openly show him affection, taking care of him. Since his mouth was full of booze, he looked at her and gave a two-tone grunt. Meant to approximate, Thank you.

  As always, the best fireworks were the final launches. Everything left in the box shot upwards, popping in the now dark sky. Different-colored flowers spreading, sagging, under the clouds. Fire splashing down onto the dark sheen of the lake.

  Over the tops of the trees, in the starry night, the wail of a far-off train's whistle, going away.

  Russell turned towards the others. "You know what the astronauts say outer space smells like?"

  No one knew.

  "They asked them. They said outer space smells like gunpowder. They said moon rocks smell like gunpowder too."

  Vickie, in her blue bedroom. Posing for herself in her pink baby doll in front of the full-length mirror. "He just deserves so much better!"

  The tall windows overlooking her balcony. Fogged from the recent rain.

  Russell sat in one of her high-backed chairs. Bare calf crossed over his left knee, he pulled off his other black sock. "Absolutely."

  She rubbed cream across her long face. Working it in with her fingers. Around the sides of her nose, across her forehead, down her throat. "She just doesn't fit in with our crowd. What do you think?"

  "I agree." Staying seated, he lifted his ass. Pulled his white underpants down, off his bare feet.

  "Oh honey, come on!" She ran over to the dresser, plucked up a towel. Brought its limpness to him. "You know I don't like that! It's unsanitary."

  "Sorry." He lifted his ass again. Lines of fat across his stomach. Arranged the towel across the flower pattern of her chair's cushion. Settled his ass back down, on top of the towel.

  Vickie looked out of the corners of her eyes at Russell. "But of course I do have to admit she's awfully pretty."

  He peeked at her from the corners of his own eyes. Kept his face straight. "She ain't pretty. To me."

  "You don't think so?"

  Shook his head, side to side.

  Down on her knees in front of him, squeezing some lotion onto her hands. Balanced the plastic bottle on the nub of the carpet. Not an easy thing to do, since it was thick pile. Rubbed her palms together. "I don't know. You don't think she's pretty?"

  "Sure don't."

  "Is she prettier than me?"

  He gave out a frightened huff. "You kidding me, darling? She can't hold a candle next to you. Who would ever look at her when they could be looking at you?"

  Vickie made an upset face. Pointed like a child. "Your penis is growing."

  "Well, I–"

  "Your penis is growing! Your penis is growing! Are you thinking of her? Is she making you hard?"

  He sat up, eyes fluttering. "Are you kidding me? Really? You would even entertain that, that I would be the least bit attracted to her, that skinny, well, even more than skinny, that bag of bones, that–"

  "And I'm fat? I'm too fat for you?"

  "No! No!"

  "I have to be able to trust you, Russell. I demand loyalty." Her angry face, with its expensive cosmetic surgery. Turned to profile, lost in private thought. "Boy oh boy, you put all your eggs in one Easter basket, but if that basket ever betrays you, then you start looking for another basket."

  "Look, my penis is completely soft now. I was thinking of you. That's why it started to get hard." He twisted an eyebrow. "You know, in that pink baby doll of yours, showing all that leg, those breasts. Man can't help getting hard."

  "That better be it."

  "That's it."

  "You don't like her at all, right?"

  "Right!"

  "Because if you did, even just a smidgen, you'd get Vickie mad. You don't want to get Vickie mad!"

  "That's not it."

  "You swear?"

  "Yeah."

  "Do. You. Swear. On your mother's grave."

  "Absolutely, darling. You have my word."

  "Do I have your word on your mother's grave?"

  "My mother's still alive."

  "But when she dies. Do you swear on her grave?"

  "Yes! You have my word on my mother's grave."

  She licked her index fingers. Smoothed her eyebrows. "Okay."

  Looked down at his penis.

  "Only you can get me hard."

  "That's right."

  Taking a chance, he reached out his right hand. Put it on the back of her head, feeling the dryness of her dyed blond hair against his palm. Gave the back of her head a tug. Waited for it. Waited for it. Saw her blue eyes drift down. Lips part. Wait for it. Wait for it. Tip of her tongue came out, switching across her lower lip, upper lip. Gave the back of her head another tug. "Let's do this."

  Ben pulled his race car into the left bay of Wayside Motors and Body Shop. Tires tilted against metal shelves. Fan belts hanging from the walls. Calendars that were months behind. Girls in bikinis holding wrenches. Revved the engine a few times, like knocking. Shut it off.

  Russell and his cronies made their way out of the glass-fronted office on the left. Russell at the front.

  Russell stood with his feet planted apart. "There he is!" As Ben swung the driver's d
oor open.

  Ben nodded at Russell. Looked at the others. "Vickie said you could soup it up in time for Saturday's race?"

  Russell walked around the car. Oval and square decals advertising different local businesses. Across the doors, fenders. 1-800 numbers and website URLs printed in orange and yellow. Glanced at his compatriots. Stopped in front of the shiny red hood. Emblazoned with a larger than life artist's rendering of Vickie's smiling blonde face, one thumb up.

  "And there she is. In all her glory. Selling her real estate. Wonder what orifice she planning on sticking that thumb up?"

  The others glanced at each other. At Russell. At Ben.

  One of the crew stood in front of the shiny hood. Looking at Vickie's big face. "Hey, Russell? I bet I could get up on this hood, lay my stomach down on it, and position my crotch to where it'd be right over Miss Vickie's mouth. Think she'd buy me a race car then?"

  Russell cracked a smile, despite himself. "Think it's that easy, Eustace?"

  "Just saying."

  Russell stared at Ben. "Women are disgusting. One time I caught this woman in the shop's restroom, and you know what she was doing?"

  Ben stared back.

  Russell bent his upper body forward. "I said, Know what she was doing?"

  "Going over your bill, to see how much you cheated her with fake parts and inflated labor costs?"

  "A comedian! 'Inflated labor costs'! Well, you're so fancy, let me bring you some tea and a plate of buttered scones. Nah, she wasn't doing that at all. She was lying on the dirty floor with her butt up against the base of the toilet, her feet soaking in the toilet bowl. She said her feet was aching from wearing high heels. No man would do that. A man puts up with pain."

  "I'll just call Vickie and explain you don't know if you have time in your schedule to service the car she invested sixty thousand dollars in."

  "Oh, I'll service it. I'm going to start servicing it once your back is turned. See, that's what I do." Russell walked over to one of the headlights. "You work on a good car, you got to break it first. Know how you break a good car? You just keep taking more and more liberties with her. She lets you do a little bit, thinking, okay, maybe he'll stop now. But then you just do a little more, a little more. You just keep at it, slow and steady, breaking her down one little violation at a time, and next thing you know? Lordy, lordy! She's letting you do all kinds of things she never thought she'd allow." Raised his thick eyebrows. "Even from the car's owner."