by Peter Rabe
Nobody stopped where Loma sat A few times someone would walk past the tree and a few times someone nodded at Loma without waiting to see if he nodded back. A man with a blonde came by Spinner’s cabin and he heard the blonde say, “You mean you know him, over there?”
“I’d just as soon not,” the man said, and they talked about something else.
A warm pine odor blew into the cabin. Spinner leaned back in his chair and put his hands in back of his neck. But he couldn’t see Loma that way. He leaned forward again and then he stood up.
The Cadillac looked out of place coming through the trees. Passing from light into shadow, the big body flashed on and off and then the car stopped under Loma’s tree. A brown-haired girl was behind the wheel and a man with a glittering thread in his sports shirt got out of the car. He walked up to Loma, nodded, sat down. They didn’t shake hands.
Spinner got up and licked his lips. He wished his shirt were clean. He walked to the tree with long steps and when he looked down at the two men he said, “That him, Loma?”
The man in the glittery shirt turned around and looked up at Spinner, his mouth open. His eyes showed a lot of white, and he had thick, black hair.
“You don’t know much, do you?” he said, and when he started to laugh it was just a loud sound without mirth.
“Loma and me …” Spinner started, and the man stopped laughing.
“Is that the guy?” he said to Loma.
“Yes.”
“Come back in five minutes, okay, boy?”
“Why?” said Spinner.
“Give us a moment,” Loma said.
“Yeah. Say hello to precious over there,” said the man. “She deserves the best”
Spinner ignored it and walked away.
“But watch out,” the man called after him. “She’s in a biting mood.” Then he laughed again.
Her brown hair was curly and came down over her forehead. It made her eyes look very big. She watched Spinner with no special interest, but kept turning her head as he came around the car. The way she sat in the big car Spinner couldn’t see much of her, except that she wore a white blouse, and that her arm was brown from the sun.
“Who is he?” said Spinner and nodded his head at the man with Loma.
“Some bum.”
He didn’t have patience for her troubles and her answer made him feel hard, just the way she had sounded.
“So what are you doing with him?”
“He pays high,” she said. When she saw Spinner squint at that she started to laugh, a laugh with no interest in it.
They didn’t talk any more and Spinner leaned against one front fender and smoked. He watched a buzzard making a turn over one of the hills.
“Who are you?” the girl said.
He didn’t turn. He didn’t want to hear her voice. It had a slight hoarseness in it, making him listen to it against his will. She got out of the car, walked over in front of him.
“Who are you?” she asked him again.
“I haven’t got a cent,” he answered.
“Now that you told me you can be crude, do you feel any better?”
He looked at her full length the first time. She was very attractive. What spoiled it was what he had said, and what she had said, and he might as well stop looking.
“I bet you’d like to say you’re sorry,” she said.
If she laughs now, he thought, if she laughs now — She didn’t laugh, though. She leaned against the fender, the way he was doing it, and looked at the buzzard too. After a while the buzzard wheeled out of view and the girl moved away from the car.
“Now that we lost that conversation piece, let me ask you something else.”
Spinner said, “How come you act that way? Had a fight with him?”
“That’s right.”
“Don’t take it out on me.”
“There’s nobody else,” she said. “Besides, you don’t look too sensitive. Are you?”
“Like you,” he said.
She gave a short laugh for an answer and turned away She walked back and forth a few times, kicked at a stone, then came back to the car.
“Can I have a glass of water?” she asked.
Spinner nodded and led the way to the cabin. Halfway there he regretted having said yes, because it meant leaving Loma and the man with the shirt out of sight. But that was foolish. He regretted going because he didn’t like the girl. That was the reason. It wasn’t her needling that bothered him, it showed her spirit But the hard part, her coldness, that made him dislike her. Cold, like Loma, he thought, except that it didn’t jar when he thought of the coldness in Loma. With her it did, as if no woman had any business being cold.
He gave her a quick look and then coughed. They went into the cabin.
“How can you stand the heat in here,” she said.
“The bathroom’s this way.” Spinner walked ahead of her to look for a clean glass.
She stood in the room and fluffed her blouse.
“You live here with that Loma?”
“You want this water or don’t you?”
She came into the bathroom and took the glass from him. She drank and ignored his remark. Spinner watched her chin and her long neck curving back. The skin was whiter there, where the sun hadn’t reached, and if she hadn’t been such a cold bitch, Spinner thought, he would tell her what a fine neck she had. Then she put the glass down with a satisfied sound and licked her wet lip. Spinner looked away, at the glass.
“You want more?”
“No, thanks. Leave the bathroom a minute, will you?”
She turned on the tap before he got out and he heard the splashing while he stood at the front window.
“Don’t you have any towels?” she called.
He didn’t know where to look for one. If she didn’t like the ones in the bathroom let her shake her hands for a while and they’d be dry in this heat soon enough.
“Every towel in here is wet,” she called. “You got any more?”
“All right Just a minute.”
He started to bang drawers open and shut. The girl in the bathroom started to whistle and Spinner felt himself getting on edge, without knowing why. The waiting, it must be the waiting. Throughout the trip with Loma he waited, now with the man from St. Louis he waited, and on top of that, as if nothing else mattered, she whistled in there, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, most likely, to see how she looked while whistling. Probably turning and posing in front of the bathroom mirror, to see how good she looked and taking the sight for granted, the whistling for granted, and Spinner hunting around for a towel for her, for granted, too.
He found a drawer with towels and yanked out the one on top.
“Can’t you find one?” he heard.
Spinner pushed the door open and held out the towel but then he let it drop down again. She was watching herself in the mirror and with arms up was fluffing the short brown hair. Spinner could see the skin white on the inside of her arms, where the sun hadn’t reached. The rest was brown and shiny with water. She had kept on the skirt and her bra but the rest of her glistened; face, neck, shoulders, and the roundness over the bra.
“Give it to me,” she said and held out one hand. Aside from that she ignored him. “You wouldn’t have a comb, would you?”
The bra was white and next to it was the brown of her tan and Spinner thought he could smell the warm skin. A cold bitch like her —
“In the cabinet,” he said.
She opened the cabinet which made Spinner’s mirror image swing into view. It stared at him with fine lines at the ends of his eyes and the brows drawn together. And he didn’t like the look of the mouth, or the chin, or anything showing. He looked away, feeling rotten without knowing why and there was the girl again. The bathroom was very small.
“Watch my elbow,” she said, “when I comb my hair.”
Maybe he expected too much. Maybe Loma wasn’t a cold bastard with a feel like metal and the girl, maybe she was just like any
of them or all of them and he, Spinner, with the heat of anger inside, just expected too much.
“Step back some,” she said.
It wasn’t too much to expect that she didn’t really feel like a stone, and he put out his hand. Her arm felt warm.
She stopped combing and said, “Forget it, will you?”
She felt warm, but she wasn’t, and with sudden anger he grabbed the soft arm and yanked.
She looked up at him and he didn’t like the slant she put on her mouth.
“You can’t rape me, you know,” and she pulled her arm out of his hand, quite slowly, as if it didn’t matter.
“You always talk tough like that?” he said.
“With your kind, it helps.” She suddenly jerked away. Or almost, because he held on again, feeling the muscles move under her skin.
She relaxed suddenly and it almost stopped Spinner — but then she laughed. It was like a kick. His arm clamped around her back, more like a hit than anything else, and he heard the sound when it squeezed the breath out of her. She didn’t tense again and she didn’t struggle, and Spinner might not have gone ahead had he known how she felt — feeling nothing.
CHAPTER 15
She sat up on the bed, shook out her hair, and got up. She smoothed down her skirt and adjusted the brassiere. Then she went to the bathroom and Spinner heard the faucet again, as before. When he got up he walked around the end of the bed and saw Loma with the man in the glittery shirt They hadn’t moved, though Spinner didn’t pay any real attention. There was a pack of cigarettes in his pocket, and the Cellophane made a crackling sound. He took the pack out, dropped it on top of the dresser. He pushed the pack to the edge and watched it drop into the wastepaper basket that stood there. Spinner wished he knew how he felt.
In a moment she’ll turn off the water, he thought, and then what. But the water kept running and Spinner couldn’t continue to stand at the dresser because the edge cut into the back of his thighs, hurting him. And he wanted to see her.
When he came in she took her hands away from her face and shook off the water. Her face was wet, and the rest of her, too, as before.
They looked at each other and he said, “Here. I brought you a towel.”
She didn’t take the towel right away because she was still looking at his face, but then, whatever her expression was going to be, she let it go and reached for the towel.
“Thank you,” she said.
Spinner leaned against the door frame and watched her rub herself dry, and for a brief moment it felt as if he knew her and something felt good. But that happened only for a brief moment when everything else came back to him, except without the anger.
“I don’t know your name,” he said.
It would have been the time for her to make a crack, some very seasoned kind of remark, and he even got ready for it, ready to ignore it, but she only said, “Ann.” She wasn’t looking at him. “And yours?”
“Jake. Jake Spinner.”
She nodded at that “I forgot where I put the comb. Do you have one of your own?”
He gave her the comb from his pocket and she started going through the back of her hair.
Spinner didn’t know how to say it but then it came all by itself.
“We were lousy.”
Then there was nothing else to say. She put on her blouse while Spinner walked back into the room in front where the windows looked out on the clearing. After a while she came in and opened the door.
“I’m going back,” she said.
“Yes. Let’s go back,” and they walked together toward the car.
CHAPTER 16
The sun had moved just enough to reach the bottom of Loma’s chair, and touched the cast, which lay white and hard. It gave the impression of not belonging to anything. Loma looked down at it, but didn’t move.
“I can’t use him. Perhaps you can.”
“He’s your problem.” The man picked up a twig and stuck it into his mouth. “If you can’t take care of him, who can?”
“We’ll see,” said Loma, and then looked up.
They both watched Spinner and the girl come back from the cabin. The girl walked toward the car and Spinner came to the tree. But the man wasn’t watching Spinner. His face spread with a wide grin and he called, “Ann, doll,” and when she looked at him from the car he said, “how was it, Ann, doll?”
Spinner said nothing, but he hoped that the girl would have an answer.
She said, “Is that how you get your kicks?”
She watched from the car, waiting for more, but the man only laughed. When he looked up at Spinner the laugh petered out and he spat the twig on the ground. “Loma says you drove him back.”
“This is Keel,” said Loma to Spinner. “From St. Louis.”
Spinner sat down on the bench next to Keel and looked the man over. He might not like Keel, but this was what Spinner was after. This was the whole point of having come this far.
“I drove Loma for an introduction. My name’s Spinner.”
Keel leaned back and grinned.
“Changing jobs, or something?”
“More than that But I’m looking for a job.”
“Well,” said Keel, “jobs like driving Loma here, and busting his ankle, don’t come along every day.” He laughed.
Neither Loma nor Spinner showed any reaction and Keel stopped laughing.
“You’re in hot water,” said Keel. “I don’t call that a recommendation.”
“Me? No more than Loma.”
“You ain’t Loma, uh — what was that name?”
“Spinner. Jake Spinner.”
Keel worked his tongue around the inside of his cheek and started to frown.
“Spinner? Where you from?”
“Stone Bluff. The same place …”
“Yeah. Dixon. You got a name rings a bell, Spinner, but I can’t place it.”
“My father worked for Dixon some years back.”
“Is that so?” said Keel.
For a moment Spinner had thought that his father, in a queer, tangled way, would suddenly be of some help, but the tone of Keel’s voice didn’t let it happen.
“Dixon used to pick up all kinds,” said Keel. “I think I heard the name.” And after a pause, “What did he do? Your old man, I mean.”
Spinner didn’t answer right away. He looked at the green on the side of the hill and then up the hill where the trees looked darker. He wished there were nothing else to do but look at those and sit in the shade here.
“I don’t think he ever did a damn thing,” Spinner heard himself say. “He fell down the stairs and died from that Why you asking?”
“Just questions. I thought maybe he was big with Dixon or something. Seeing I remember the name.”
“He wasn’t What’s that got to do with anything?”
Keel shrugged. “You’re looking for a job, aren’t you? So I’m asking. Qualifications and so forth.”
“Then ask what’s important! I don’t waste time …”
“I don’t like lip, Spinner.”
“Loma — ” Spinner looked over at him — ”is this guy the best you can do?”
“He’s the one that come,” said Loma, showing no interest.
Keel looked from one to the other, as if he didn’t believe his ears.
“Hey!” he said. “Who says I got to listen …”
“You tell this when you get back to St. Louis,” said Loma. “Tell them he saw the whole thing from the beginning. That he has made no wrong move, so far, for only one reason. He told you what that was.” Loma paused, to see if Keel was listening. Then he said, “And you can’t kill him. He and I have been together ever since Dixon. If they’re looking for me and he turns up dead, it would be bad. If they’re looking for him and he turns up dead, it would be the same because they’ll be after me.”
Keel went more by the tone of voice than the content and he didn’t say any more. Spinner had followed the reasoning and he didn’t say anything either. The shock
was Loma’s inhuman bookkeeping. Not that this was anything new; but it hadn’t happened so clearly before, with Spinner the cipher that had to be balanced.
And it made sense. Spinner felt cold, but said nothing. It made sense, and this was all part of his switch and he mustn’t forget it.
“I don’t get paid to argue,” said Keel, and got up. “I’ll tell ‘em.”
“Let me know tomorrow,” said Loma.
Spinner said nothing. The machine was set in motion and this was all part of the plan. He mustn’t forget it.
When Keel got to the car Spinner got up from the bench and walked into the sunlight. He didn’t want to sit under the tree with Lorna. He looked at Ann, who was standing next to the car and who dropped her cigarette when Keel came closer. She made a short laugh when she saw his face.
“What you been doing? Tried arguing with somebody?” she asked.
Keel frowned at her, then looked down at his sleeve, brushing it When he looked up he was grinning. He felt best when he could manage a grin.
“There’s us with beautiful bodies and then your kind, with the brains.”
“Either way you turn it,” she said, “I come out on top.”
Spinner heard how they were talking and he walked up closer. Keel was saying, “Either way, I can buy you.” His grin made it sound worse.
“For cold cash, what temperature do you think you’ll be getting?”
Spinner put his hands on the end of the hood and held the ornament He could feel it bite into his fingers.
“Hell, you talk like I want something from you. Hey, Spinner — ” he cocked his head, looking at him like a buddy — ”what makes these dames think they got it all? Tell her.”
Spinner saw Ann look away and he wondered about her expression.
“Maybe, just to show her,” Keel went on, “I’ll go back by myself. Hey, Ann.”
She turned back and for a moment Spinner thought she was going to look at him, but then she didn’t. Keel grinned at her.
“Annie, you ever been dumped?”