Beebo Brinker Chronicles 1 - Odd Girl Out

by Ann Bannon

  "Oh, Charlie, he's been an undergraduate for six years. The guy hasn't even enough ambition to leave school, for God's sake. Emmy's as much in love with that trombone as she is with Bud. He's a big wheel on campus—talented, everybody knows him. I'd never tell her, but I'm kind of glad they'll be separated for a while. I think they'll both come to their senses. I hope they will."

  Charlie disagreed. “Hell, if they took you away from me for a while would you come to your senses? Would I?"

  "No, but—we're in love."

  "Well, so are they."

  "They just think they are."

  "You just can't resist analyzing everybody you know, can you? No matter how little you really know about them. You figure them all out and slap a label on them and that's the end of them as far as you're concerned. You never consider that you might be wrong, or they might be different. Try analyzing yourself some time. It's no cinch."

  Beth was temporarily confused. “Well—I know Emmy pretty well,” she said.

  "Yeah. And I know Bud. He may be a worthless character, but tearing him away from Emmy isn't going to cool either of them off. That's the best way I can think of to get them both hot. Right now Bud's in love with Emmy and he's damned unhappy. I feel sorry for the guy."

  "Oh, so do I. It's not that I don't, it's just that all men are such—most men are such—oh, never mind."

  He grinned at her. “What are most women?"

  "You'd never understand."

  "What's Beth Cullison?” His eyes were curiously bright and narrow and Beth felt suddenly uncomfortable.

  "You tell me,” she challenged him.

  "I can't,” he said. “I don't know. I thought you did."

  She couldn't look at his eyes and she despised her sudden shyness.

  "Maybe we'll find out together,” he said with a light smile....

  And so the days went slowly by, with everybody bringing news to Emmy about Bud, with everybody discussing the situation over and over again.

  Emily chafed and wept and wondered and beseeched her friends for more news. Bud griped and argued with anyone who would listen, and consoled himself with beer and music.

  It got pretty bad. He liked to talk to Charlie because Charlie was a fraternity brother and Charlie saw Beth, Emmy's roommate. Charlie was a friend; he listened.

  "I tell ya, dad, it's intolerable,” Bud protested. “If I could just see her. Just once. The thing is, nobody'd have to know. If I could just talk to her, work it out somehow."

  "They won't let you talk to her."

  "If I could meet her someplace..."

  "Hang on, boy. That's not going to kill you. They'll relent one of these days."

  "Yeah, sure, I can hang on. But what I mean is, why hang on if you don't have to? Hell, this is a big campus. Nineteen thousand students. Who's going to check on each one? If I saw her some afternoon where nobody'd suspect anything..."

  "Yeah, but you have to worry about where. Why don't you just forget it and let the thing ride for a few weeks? They'll give in. Emmy's acting like a damn puritan. They'll have to let her out."

  Bud was quiet for a minute, and then he looked at Charlie with an intently confidential frown. “Charlie,” he said, “listen. Is there any time during the day when your apartment is empty?"

  "No,” said Charlie firmly.

  "Listen, boy—"

  "No! It's never empty. We have a resident truant officer."

  "Charlie, listen, it'd be so easy. Nobody'd ever know, believe me."

  "No."

  "Now listen to me, will ya, God damn it? Now listen. Look, Emmy has a two o'clock Tuesdays and Thursdays. She's out at three, walks south on Wright Street—"

  "Listen, Bud—"

  "Charlie, you've even got a car. My God, this is perfect. You could pick her up, tell her about it in the car on the way over."

  Way over where?"

  "To the apartment, boy.” Bud flung his hands out earnestly. “Use your head. Jesus. Now listen, when's your roommate in class? What's-his-name?"

  "Mitch."

  "Mitch. He there on Thursday afternoon?"

  "Look Bud, that's beside the—"

  "That's great. That makes it just about perfect. He wouldn't have to know a thing. Nobody'd know but you and me and Emmy. The fewer the better. Charlie my boy, listen to me—we'd be there only a couple of hours.” He watched Charlie's face anxiously. “All right, an hour.” Charlie was silent, sympathetic but dubious. “Charlie, you hear me?"

  "Yeah ... I don't know, Bud."

  "Man, what's the matter with you? You so pure you never had a girl in your apartment?"

  "No, but I was never under orders not to have her, boy. I was never shadowed by the university. If you get caught, we all get canned. The university doesn't sponsor extracurricular love-making, in case you didn't know."

  "Look, Charlie, if we get caught, which we won't, nobody gets canned but us. Emmy and me."

  "Are you ready to do that to Emmy?"

  "It won't happen. Believe me. Besides, if it did we'd go on pro, we wouldn't be expelled."

  "Who wants to be on probation?"

  "Charlie, we're just wasting time talking about it. It won't happen, man."

  "It's my apartment, my car—my bed, for God's sake."

  "Okay. And I'm your friend. A brother. I could've asked to use the apartment without telling you why. You can make like you're shocked as all hell if we get caught. Oh, hell, this is a lot of crap—we're not going to get caught. Who's gonna catch us? when does Mitch get in?"

  "Oh-about five-thirty."

  "Any sooner? Ever get in sooner?"

  "No.” Charlie shook his head.

  "Okay, we're out at five. Emmy walks one block to the bus, I go the other way, toward campus."

  Charlie shook his head doubtfully. “Bud, I hate to risk it, boy. Not because I'm afraid for my own sake, but—God, it would be the end for Emmy if she got caught."

  "Charlie,” said Bud, as if he were talking to an uncooperative first-grader, “we won't get caught. Who the hell's gonna catch us? As long as I don't have to call her, as long as you pick her up and everything, what's to go wrong? Oh, Charlie, be a friend. I need help, believe me. How would you like it if they cut you off for months? And don't tell me there's other girls. I know that, I know. I want Emmy. Like you want Beth, I want Emmy ... Charlie, I'd do it for you. I swear I would, boy."

  Charlie drained his beer and stabbed his cigarette into an ashtray. “You really want to see her that bad?” he said.

  Bud looked up at the ceiling as if searching it for his self-control. “Yeah. I want to,” he said. “That bad."

  "Okay. I'll pick her up. Thursday at three."

  "Charlie—Bud grinned at him and gripped his hand.

  "Be at the apartment. And by God, be out at five."

  "I will. Jesus, Charlie, I can't tell you—"

  "Never mind, boy. Save it. Just keep it quiet."

  "My God, you're telling me!"

  At three o'clock on Thursday afternoon Emily stood on the steps of Bevier Hall on Wright Street, chattering with some classmates. Charlie didn't see her until she came down the walk with a friend, and then he pulled the car toward her and called to her.

  "Emmy!” he said. “Hey, Em! How about a ride?"

  She looked up, surprised, and broke into a sudden smile.

  "Thanks!” she exclaimed, running over. “Can you take Jane too?"

  Charlie was alarmed. “Where's she going?"

  "Gamma Delt house.” The girl thrust a pleasant young face over Emmy's shoulder.

  "Okay, hop in,” said Charlie.

  "It's right on the way. I hope you don't mind,” Emmy said, sensing his reserve.

  "Not at all.” He had little to say until Jane was delivered and they were a mile off course from the apartment. He turned the car around while Emily watched him with big questioning eyes.

  "Where're we going?” she asked.

  "We're going to my apartment, Emily,” he said.


  "Your apartment?"

  "Yeah.” He looked at her and said with a smile, “Bud's there."

  Emily gasped. And then she cried.

  "Emily!” he said. “My God, don't tell me you don't want to go!"

  "Yes, I do,” she said. “I do. You scared me, Charlie. Oh, is he really there?” She put a hand on his arm.

  "Yeah, he's there all right."

  "Charlie—it's safe, isn't it? I mean, we won't get caught?"

  "No, Em, don't worry. Mitch is out for the afternoon. I won't be there. You'll have till five o'clock."

  "Ohhh,” said Emily with an uncertain smile. “Charlie, thanks."

  "Don't thank me, honey. I wasn't very nice about it. I don't want you to get into trouble. But I guess there's not much chance of that. But Emmy—"

  "Yes?” Her heart gave a thump.

  "Don't tell anyone about it. Not anyone. Not even Beth. Understand?"

  "Yes. Not even Beth?"

  "Not even Beth. Promise?"

  "Yes,” she whispered.

  Charlie dropped her off. She walked up to the door with her knees shaking a little, opened it, and went in. For a moment her sun-dazzled eyes saw nothing and then she heard Bud jump to his feet. “Emmy!” he said. He pushed the door shut behind her, and held her against it, leaning on her and kissing her almost savagely.

  He pulled her against him and said, “Oh, Emmy. Oh, God, God, God, Emmy! Darling...” He could not have said more or said it better. He looked at her as if she were all miraculously new to him. He pulled her down and took her like a man who had never had a woman before and thought never to have another. He took her over and over and over and yet again in a fight with time that raised his passion to a frenetic pitch and made a wild, tireless thing of Emily. And then they lay beside each other, whispered to each other of love and loneliness and relentless longing. Bud wrapped her in his arms, still lightheaded with emotion, and said, “Emmy, darling, I love you."

  "Oh, Bud,” she half sobbed. “They'll never do this to us again."

  "Never,” he echoed. “Oh, Em—I'd do anything for you. I love you, chicken."

  She clung to him hopefully. “Anything, Bud?"

  "Anything,” he murmured, kissing her. “They'll never take you away from me again."

  "Bud—” Her voice was light and supplicating. “Marry me?"

  "What?” He stopped kissing her just long enough to raise himself on one elbow and gaze at her. “Marry you?"

  She held her breath, not daring to answer nor yet to keep still, and her perishable perfection ensnared him, en-flamed him, wrenched his heart like a lovely tune.

  "Yes, Em. I guess I would. I never thought of it, but I guess I would. I will if you want it, Emmy. I'd be one hell of a lousy husband, but I love you. Maybe that'll make up for it."

  "Oh, Bud,” she cried softly. They leaned toward each other until their lips were together again, and far away, as in the gentlest of reveries, the latch clicked and the door opened. They lay, quiet and complete, whole and serene in each other's need, fulfilled and reassured, lovely and beautifully human.

  "Emily!” A poison-tipped voice split them asunder; a girl's voice, high and hard with indignation.

  "Oh, my God!” cried a boy at almost the same time. “Oh, my God!” he said again, helplessly.

  Bud and Emmy sat up suddenly in a fit of alarm, gazing at the silhouettes, straining against the head-on sun streaming at them from the window to see their faces.

  I'm terribly sorry,” said the boy. “I didn't know. I mean—God. We'd better go, Mary Lou."

  "We'd better go, Emily, said Mary Lou. “You and I."

  Bud looked at his watch. “But it's only four-thirty,” he said.

  Beth found Emmy just before dinner, face down on the couch and sobbing. The shades were all pulled down and the room was dark and sad and overheated. Laura followed Beth into the room and stood soundless and motionless while Beth dropped her books and shut the door.

  "Emmy!” Beth said. “What's the matter?” She threw her coat off and sank to the floor on her knees by Emily's head. Emily turned away. “Emmy, honey,” she said, and stroked her hair. Laura watched her without expression. “Tell me what's the matter."

  Emily tried to repress her tears. She turned to Beth and whispered sporadically, “They found us. Mary Lou and Mitch. We couldn't stand it any longer. We had to see each other. They found us."

  Beth was astounded. “You saw Bud?” she said, squinting incredulously.

  "Yes,” said Emmy in a tiny voice.

  "Emmy! Where? How?” Beth felt the impending catastrophe.

  The apartment. I didn't know. Charlie picked me up. I never thought we'd get caught."

  "Charlie? Charlie's apartment?"

  "Yes. He told Bud he could use it. Nobody was going to be there. It was just a mistake—"

  "You met Bud in Charlie's apartment?"

  "Yes.” Her voice tricked and trapped and deserted her; her breath came hard and then not at all.

  "Oh, Em...” Beth put her arms around her and comforted her. Laura watched them, cold and remote as a winter sky, silent as the snow. “Tell me about it."

  Emmy pulled herself up and sat gazing at the dead face of the window shade behind the desk. “Mitch wasn't supposed to get in till five-thirty. He cut class. He had coffee with Mary Lou. They came back to the apartment to get some books. We would have left in another fifteen minutes. But they caught us. I'll be blackballed, Beth.” She looked desperately at her.

  The dinner chime sounded and Beth remembered Laura. “Run along and eat, honey,” she said.

  Laura stood stolidly in place. There were times when she actively resented the childish role Beth forced on her.

  "Go on,” Beth said. “I'll be along in a minute."

  Laura stayed where she was and Beth turned to Emily again. “Can I bring you a tray, Em?"

  Emmy shook her head. “I can't eat,” she said, leaning limply on Beth's shoulder. “They're going to kick me out, Beth."

  "How bad—I mean—what were you doing when they came in?"

  "We were in bed. We were in Charlie's bed.” Laura shuddered with a sharp involuntary disgust.

  "We were making love. Oh, Beth!” Emmy wept. “I love him so much. Is it such a terrible crime to love somebody?"

  "No,” said Beth with a sting in her voice, “but it's a terrible thing to get caught. It's good to love, Emmy, but it's hell to get caught. I'd just love to know,” she went on, with her voice getting surer and harder, “just what the hell Mary Lou and Mitch were doing going to the apartment this afternoon? Going to do a little intimate homework, maybe? A little research ... anatomical variety? We'll never know.” She rocked Emily in her arms and Laura, seeing their bodies move together, could feel nothing but spite for Emily....

  Laura held her tongue until late that night, after Emmy had gone to bed. “What will they do to her?” she asked.

  "Kick her out. Jerk her pin. Disgrace her.” She spat the words out.

  "Well...” Laura studied her nails. “I guess she disgraced them."

  Beth looked at her narrowly. “She fell in love, Laura. Is that so disgraceful to you?

  "I didn't mean it that way, Beth,” Laura said softly. “I only meant she didn't have to be so obvious about it. Everybody knew—"

  "Yeah, everybody knew she loved him. That's good enough reason to expel her, isn't it?"

  Laura sighed ill-naturedly. “She got what she deserved,” she said. “She broke every rule. She defied authority."

  "Laura,” said Beth with pointed irritation, “what do you think would happen to you if everybody knew you were in love with me? You'd get the same treatment, honey, and don't forget it. You'd get worse."

  Laura stared at her, startled and scared.

  "What's so wonderful about rules?” Beth snapped. “Is it obeying the rules for two girls to make love to each other? Don't you think we're defying authority ourselves?"

  "I—never thought of it that way,” La
ura faltered.

  "No, of course not. Maybe you never thought of it at all—"

  "Beth, for heaven's sake! Emily was caught in bed with a man with no clothes on when she wasn't supposed to see him at all. She was—she was—making love to him—"

  Beth came over to the couch and sat down beside Laura, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, a cigarette in one hand. She pulled on her cigarette and brought two jets of smoke through her nose. “We've made love, Laura."

  "But that's different, Beth. That's clean. It's beautiful.” She grasped Beth's arm and leaned anxiously toward her. Beth studied the tip of her cigarette.

  "A man and a woman are beautiful, too. And we've been caught making love, Laura ... you and I. Just like Bud and Emmy."

  Laura snatched her hand away as if from a flame and sat for a wounded moment, terrified. “Beth, what do you mean?” she said in a strained whisper.

  Beth flicked her ashes thoughtlessly toward a tray. “Just that. We aren't any cleaner or any more beautiful than Emily and Bud, just because we're both women. And we were caught, too."

  "Beth!” Laura stared at her with horrified eyes. “We were never caught."

  "Yes we were, Laur. We were seen in here one night—right here in this room—kissing each other and talking about it."

  "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't they ever say anything?"

  "They don't know. We had the good luck to get caught by Emmy."

  "Emmy!"

  "Yes. Emmy. Emmy found us in here one night. Just before semester vacation. She heard enough to guess the story. She never told a soul except me. She never will.” Beth's quiet, angry voice contrasted vividly with Laura's high anxiety.

  To Laura, her love had seemed as secret as it was sacred. That someone else should know; that someone else had known for months; that the someone else was Emily, and Emily would never tell, would spare them what had been inflicted on her—all these thoughts struck Laura at once and she felt a sudden twist of guilt in her heart.

  "Oh, Beth ... if I'd only known,” she said, and her voice broke.

  "Oh, it would only have worried you, Laur. I hoped you could see some good in Emmy. I hoped you'd learn to like her.” She looked up at Laura's face. “I guess you were jealous of her."

  "Beth...” Laura rested her forehead against Beth's shoulder. “Beth, I'm so sorry. I thought she was—oh, I don't know why she didn't just tell them about me. I was so nasty to her. I couldn't have blamed her if she did."