Boys and Girls Together

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by William Saroyan




  WILLIAM SAROYAN

  Boys and Girls Together

  Tasol nambawan taim God i wokim ol samting, em i wokim man na meri. Orait.

  (Gud Nius Mak i Raitim. St Mark’s Gospel in Neo Melanesian, or Pidgin English.)

  That’s all number one time God he walk them all same thing, he walk them man and woman. All right.

  (Saroyan-American, or Buzzard English.)

  But from the beginning of the creation God made them male and female.

  (The Gospel According to Saint Mark, Chapter 10, Verse 6. King James Version, or Chicken English.)

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  A Note on the Author

  Chapter 1

  They were sitting in the parlour they both hated so much but somehow liked too and there wasn’t a thing doing. They were married, there were two kids out of it, the boy first and then the girl, and now the kids were asleep at last, or at any rate in bed. They were trying to think what to say so they wouldn’t be just sitting there, but there wasn’t really anything to say unless they fell into dirty talk, which they frequently did.

  ‘I saw Charley’s wife when I took the girl walking,’ the woman said. ‘Who did you see when you took the boy walking?’

  ‘I didn’t see anybody. Who’s Charley’s wife?’

  ‘Ellen. Didn’t you see a girl?’

  ‘I saw a girl standing on the corner waiting for a streetcar.’

  ‘Would she be as good as me?’

  ‘Once or twice maybe she would, but I don’t want a fight.’

  ‘If you don’t want a fight, why do you look at every girl you see and wonder how she’d be?’

  ‘It’s a habit.’

  ‘She was a dog and you know it.’

  ‘She didn’t seem a dog when I saw her. She seemed clean and hopeful, but later on she could easily become a dog.’

  ‘Do you mean that’s what I’ve become?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’ve become.’

  ‘Oh yes you do.’

  ‘What have you become?’

  ‘I’ve become a good wife, and a good mother, and damned tired of it, too.’

  ‘It’s what you wanted. It is tiring, though, I suppose. Now, if you’d take a bath and get yourself relaxed once the kids are out of the way every night, maybe it wouldn’t be so tiring.’

  ‘I’m too tired to take a bath. I’m so hungry I can’t stand the thought of eating the things we know how to cook.’

  ‘If you’d take a bath, you’d be able to stand the thought.’

  ‘No, I’d just want to put on my best clothes and go out and have two or three drinks and a real supper.’

  ‘Well, we can’t do that, but if you’ll take a bath and put on your best clothes, I’ll open two cans of chili. I’ll have everything ready for you when you’re ready and we’ll have two or three Scotches apiece before we eat the chili.’

  ‘After we eat, what’ll we do?’

  ‘Let’s eat first.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll know then?’

  ‘We ought to. Go ahead, take your bath and take your time.’

  ‘I’ll put on some perfume, too.’

  ‘I like the way you smell after a bath without perfume, but maybe you don’t, so put some on if it makes you happy. I like the smell of clean skin that’s breathing.’

  ‘I won’t put any on, then. Don’t you smell the soap?’

  ‘I like to smell the soap.’

  ‘If the boy gets out of bed, spank him.’

  ‘O.K.’

  He went to the woman and hugged her. She smelled tired and dirty and frightened. Her skin was suffocating with dirty sweat, and the expensive perfume she’d used that afternoon made the smell worse.

  ‘Don’t kiss me now. Don’t spoil it in case we think of something after the chili.’

  ‘Go bathe.’

  The wife went to the bathroom and the husband heard her singing softly, almost happily. When she was in the tub the door of the bedroom opened and the boy came out in his bare feet.

  ‘Where’s Mama?’

  ‘She’s bathing.’

  ‘I want to bathe with her.’

  ‘You can’t. Now, go right back and get into your bed.’

  ‘I want a drink of water first.’

  The father let the water run out of the kitchen faucet until it was fresh and cool, and then he handed the son a glass of water and the five-year-old drank it all and handed back the empty glass. The water always satisfied him. He always had the same expression of satisfaction on his face when he handed back the glass. It was something like a wink.

  ‘Why don’t you take a bath, too?’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘I mean with Mama.’

  ‘O.K. Get back in your bed.’

  ‘Good night.’

  ‘O.K.’

  He saw the boy back into his bed, still almost winking with satisfaction. He went across the room to have another look at his two-and-a-half-year-old daughter’s bare body, with the bottom up in the air. Her little body was just about the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He went out of the room wondering what it was she was always thinking about in her sleep.

  He knew what it was he was always thinking about in his sleep because he’d had thirty-nine years to find out.

  He went to the kitchen, got out the two cans of chili and began to read the label on one of them for instructions, and then decided to have one drink before the body of the girl in the bathtub came out to have one with him.

  Chapter 2

  After the drink he went to the bathroom door and said, ‘Don’t misunderstand this, but I need a bath myself and the boy wanted to know why I didn’t bathe with you, but don’t get any ideas about it.’

  ‘Did you spank him?’

  ‘Hell no. He wanted a drink of water. He’s fast asleep again. But forget it. I’ll take a shower after the chili. I don’t want to spoil your bath.’

  ‘The door’s open. Come on in.’

  He went in and saw that she was already looking cleaner and more hopeful, and the boy sat there almost as if it were in a boy’s dream.

  ‘I’ll brush my teeth, and shave.’

  ‘Will you scrub my back? I can’t reach it.’

  ‘Sure, but don’t hurry your bath. Don’t make another job out of it. After you’re all relaxed and clean, get into the shower and cool off.’

  ‘I don’t want a shower, too.’

  ‘The shower gets all the sweat and dirt and soap off your skin, and then when you make the water cold it tightens your skin all over and brings out all of its colour. You should always take a shower after a bath.’

  ‘O.K., then. Do you think I’m too fat?’

  ‘You’re not fat at all.’

  ‘Oh yes I am.’ She stood suddenly. ‘Here, and all in here, and how about up here?’

  ‘That isn’t fat. That’s woman. Another thing entirely.’

  ‘Was she as
woman as I am?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The girl you saw waiting for the streetcar that you think was so clean and hopeful.’

  ‘Oh.’ He rinsed the toothpaste suds out of his mouth. ‘No, she wasn’t.’

  ‘There you go again being a crook, just because you’re beginning to think of something to do after the chili.’

  ‘No, she was kind of skinny.’

  ‘I know you’re trying to con me just because you’ve hit upon some sort of idea for after the chili, because every time you hit on an idea something happens to your voice.’

  ‘What happens?’

  ‘It gets horny. In spite of everything you do to keep it from getting horny, it gets horny, because once you get an idea you’re a dead Indian. I could make an awful fool of you any time I felt like it if I wanted to go to the trouble of taking off my clothes.’

  ‘You’d make an awful fool of yourself, too.’

  ‘I don’t mean when we’re with people or anything like that. I mean when we’re alone. I found out all about that before we were married when we went swimming naked at night and the water was so cold you’d think it would freeze a man’s balls off. I thought it was because we weren’t married yet, and that’s why I made all that fuss a couple of months after we were married about going swimming that way again. I wanted to find out.’

  ‘A couple of months after we were married you were pregnant, and it wasn’t supposed to be good for you to go swimming that way.’

  ‘Doctors don’t know too much about things like that. Anyhow, it didn’t do me any harm, and I found out that it wasn’t because we hadn’t been married. It was because you go a little nuts when you see a girl’s body. You can be freezing and still go a little nuts. And it’s not because the body’s mine. It could be any girl’s.’

  ‘Maybe it couldn’t.’ He began to shave.

  ‘Not only that. Any woman’s body, any woman at all, not just the body of a twenty-year-old girl, but the body of a thirty- or forty- or fifty-year-old woman. I’ll bet you’ve had women who’ve been more than fifty.’

  ‘Maybe I have.’

  ‘Old bags. Any kind of woman at all.’

  ‘Except intellectuals.’

  ‘You’ve had them, too. You know damn well you have.’

  ‘Some. But I didn’t like it.’

  ‘You’ve had plenty of them. What about that woman who’s so active in the Communist Party? Who lies down with all her clothes on to anybody at all, and opens up and takes away the clothes that are in the way, while her husband’s handing drinks around to the guests downstairs. Before we were married I saw you go upstairs with her, and when you came downstairs ten minutes later I knew you’d had her because she was so sweet to me, and superior, and because you were so friendly to her husband. I suppose you didn’t have her that time?’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘And she didn’t even take off her clothes. She couldn’t have. There wasn’t time.’

  ‘There was.’

  ‘She couldn’t have taken off her clothes. What kind of a woman is a woman like that? How could she take off her clothes and do it and be back downstairs in ten minutes?’

  ‘Eleven or twelve minutes.’

  ‘Well, what kind of a woman is that? What did you say to her?’

  ‘We talked about Russia.’

  ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘She told me about the time she was in Kiev and I told her about the time I was in Kharkov.’

  ‘And then, you were in her.’

  ‘Well, yes, but she talked about Kiev as if she had just won the hundred-yard dash.’

  ‘And you talked the same as ever, the way you always do. Is it that way with other men?’

  ‘You tell me.’

  ‘You know I’ve never been with anybody in this whole world except you. You know I didn’t know my ass from a hole in the ground when I met you. Is it that way with her husband, or does he squeal and squeak the way a woman sometimes wants to do? I’ve always been ashamed to, because I’ve been afraid you’d laugh at me.’

  ‘You can squeal and squeak any time you feel like it. I won’t laugh at you. I guess every man does everything his own way, and maybe some men squeal and squeak but I wouldn’t know about her husband.’

  ‘How would you feel if I took a man at a cocktail party upstairs and did that?’

  ‘You’re not an intellectual.’

  ‘I can talk about Kiev as well as she can. How would you feel if I did that?’

  ‘I’d stop you.’

  ‘Why? Why would you stop me?’

  ‘Because I know it would make you unhappy.’

  ‘That’s what you think. I’m going to do it, too.’ She was finished soaping her body, and now she sat back in the water. ‘Will you scrub my back?’

  Chapter 3

  He began to scrub, and she said, ‘Do you want to get in with me and bathe, too?’

  He scrubbed hard and saw the smooth pink skin turn red. ‘I won’t spoil your bath, and I’ve got to get the chili and drinks.’

  ‘You’re being a crook again and you know it. Something I said has stopped you from being horny and you’re trying to pretend you want to be nice.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I’ll take a shower after we eat. You finish your bath and take a shower and I’ll have everything all set. I just wanted to brush my teeth and shave.’

  ‘You wanted to look at me, because I’m a girl’s body.’

  ‘I like to look at you all right. Shall I scrub some more?’

  ‘Scrub a lot. Scrub all the way down. Scrub anywhere you like.’ She stretched out in the water and waited to see where he would scrub. He scrubbed where she hoped he would, and she watched his face to see if she could guess what he was thinking, and then she said, ‘When I was in Kiev there was a member of the Party there who asked if he might show me the Theatre for Children Orphaned by the Revolution.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘He was one of the most brilliant men I ever met. He had black hair, black skin, and a very black thing, too, as I later happened to notice.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘We went straight to the Theatre, but of course it was empty because it was one o’clock in the morning. He was so brilliant. He lived for the Party. He lived for it night and day. We had the party on the stage all over the floor and furniture of a set that was supposed to be a Russian millionaire’s parlour before the revolution.’

  ‘O.K. Now get the hell into the shower and take your time about drying and combing your hair. Comb it straight down, long, and don’t pile it upon top of your head on the theory that it makes you look seductive.’

  ‘Don’t you want to hear any more about Kiev?’

  ‘You’re not an intellectual.’

  ‘Well, what did she say that was so much better than what I said?’

  ‘She emphasised the wonderful new life that was going to come out of Communism. She didn’t mention any man with black hair and black skin. I’ll go fix the chili and get the drinks.’

  ‘Don’t you want to tell me something about Kharkov?’

  ‘It was full of bores, the same as San Francisco, or any other place. Get into the shower and turn on the cold water.’

  ‘Do we have to have chili?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not hungry any more. Are you?’

  ‘Not if you’re not.’

  ‘Let’s just drink.’

  ‘O.K. Take your time.’

  ‘You take yours, too.’

  He went out and fixed himself another drink. He was thinking when the doorbell rang and he thought, ‘If this is some stupid friend, I’m just going to have to tell him I’m working and can’t stop just now.’

  He opened the door and it was Charley Flesch and his wife Ellen.

  ‘Hi,’ Ellen said. ‘Daisy asked us over after dinner. We got a sitter for the kids after phoning about a dozen of them and we came right over.’

  They were both in now and he was showing Charley where to put
his hat and coat. He’d told her never to ask people over without letting him know, so now here they were.

  ‘How’ve you been? Sit down and I’ll bring you a drink. Daisy’s had a rough day and she’s having a shower. Scotch?’

  ‘Scotch is just what I’ve been dreaming about all day,’ Charley said. ‘Is there enough for a stiff one to start and a couple of mild ones to keep it going?’

  ‘There’s plenty. Ellen?’

  ‘The same, thanks, Dick, but let me help with the glasses or something.’

  ‘No, just sit still. I’ll only be a minute. Turn on the radio if you like, or both of you come along and pour them the way you like them.’

  ‘Yes,’ Charley said, ‘that’s the thing to do.’

  At the bathroom door he called out cheerfully, ‘Oh, Daisy, can you hear me?’

  The shower water was going but he heard it stop, and then he heard her say, ‘Do you want to tell me something about Kharkov?’

  ‘No. It’s Ellen and Charley. I’m getting us all a drink. Hurry along and join us.’

  Her silence was too long, but maybe Ellen and Charley didn’t notice. She was remembering that she had as a matter of fact asked Ellen to come over after dinner and she had forgotten all about it, so now here they were all set to start drinking and they wouldn’t be gone until after midnight.

  ‘Hi, Ellen, hi, Charley,’ she called out suddenly. ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’

  Chapter 4

  ‘Well, how’s the writing game?’ Charley Flesch said.

  ‘I’m practically retired. You know how it is with women who are supposed to look after your kids. First, they’re wonderful, and then all of a sudden they’re a bigger problem than the kids, a bigger problem than the bride, a bigger problem than marriage itself. You know you ought to fire her, but you don’t do it, because you don’t want to have to do all that work yourself, but the bride keeps telling you every night in bed what a dog the woman is with the kids, how she pretends to love them but actually hates them, how she keeps trying to teach them her idea of manners, how she is for ever comparing them with her own grandchildren who are so much more intelligent and handsome and well-behaved, and how she secretly slaps them because the little boy himself told her so, and then at last you give her a bonus and send her away, and that’s what happened three months ago. So naturally I’ve been out of touch with the writing game. How are things in the barber game?’

 

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