Tallulah Bankhead Slept Here

by Sam Lollar

  “But what about Regina? You seem to be friends with her, uh, him?”

  “Oh, Otto’s been a friend of the family for eons. He used to be Dollie’s hairdresser back in Chicago when he did drag at the clubs at night. They became really good friends. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t seen him around the motel. He comes by at least once a week to do her hair. Oh, that’s right, he’s always gone by ten, and you don’t get there until three. Oh, well, just say he’s an old friend of the family. He was probably the first person who knew that I was homosexual.”

  “Did you do anything with him?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. “Oh, God, I can’t believe I asked that. Don’t answer. It’s none of my business.”

  “Don’t apologize, you’re just curious. No, we never did anything, but he did introduce me to my first…what? Boyfriend, I guess is the term. We went together for about three years. In fact, he’s one of Otto’s nephews.”

  “You mean, you were going to send me out in the desert with another homosexual?” I asked, horrorstruck by the thought.

  “Just because he’s homosexual doesn’t mean he’s going to attack you. He really does have a keen interest in the desert, having never really seen it before. We don’t have much desert scenery in the Midwest.”

  I was silent for a while, but then remembered our conversation before reaching Regina’s place.

  “So getting back to this voyager thing we were talking about earlier,” I said, waiting for him to pick up the thread of the conversation.

  “Voyager? What do you mean? Oh, do you mean voyeur? Can we talk about something else, please?”

  “Okay, I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right. We’re almost back at the motel, anyway. Aaron, are you really serious about going to a whorehouse tonight?”

  For a few moments I had completely forgotten about it, but the thought came hurtling back into my consciousness quickly. “Yeah…um, yeah. Yes, I think so. No, I mean I’m sure. I can’t wait to get me a woman.”

  “Bravado, dear boy, is unbecoming to you,” he said. “You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  “I know, but it’s something I feel I have to do.”

  “Just because I came on to you last night doesn’t mean that you’re homosexual, you know,” he offered.

  “I know. Miss LuLu told me that, too. I don’t know. It’s like I’ve got to prove something to myself. After all, all my friends have already done it with a woman.”

  “How old are you, Aaron? Eighteen, nineteen?”

  “I’m eighteen.”

  “Do you know how many of your friends your age have had sexual relations with a woman?”

  “Well, everyone but me,” I said, displaying a certain sense of dismay.

  “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. I’d wager that not more than one or two have actually done anything other than petting with a woman. You’re not in a race. You’ll know when the time’s right for you to be with a woman. There’s no need to push it, just wait until you’re comfortable with the idea. You have a girlfriend, don’t you?”

  “Well, I suppose. I see Pat once a week or so. We do a lot of things together.”

  “Do you want to have sex with her?”

  Just then we pulled into the motel parking lot, at the same time Miss LuLu and Mrs. Schuster pulled up in the Mustang. Both women said simultaneously, “Aaron, be a dear and take my bags to my room.” They laughed, and I rushed over to the car and began pulling bags out.

  “Wait a minute, dear boy,” Miss LuLu said. “You don’t know which bag is whose. Here, dear—these three are mine, and those are Dollie’s. Why don’t you take hers first, she looks a bit tired.”

  “Yes, Aaron, go ahead and take my bags upstairs and then come right back here and get LuLu’s. I’ll be up momentarily, as soon as I catch my breath.”

  I toted the bags up to her apartment. Since her door was unlocked, I set them on the sofa in the front room and ran back to get Miss LuLu’s. As I was about to turn the corner, I heard the two women and Scott deep in conversation.

  “You know to be careful, Scott,” Mrs. Schuster was saying. “Don’t do anything that’s going to get you in trouble. You know Marvin told you to stay away from young men for a while. Let everything settle down a bit. Besides, you’re not even sure he’s eighteen.”

  Miss LuLu continued. “From what your mother’s told me, Scott, I think you’re feeling terribly lonely, and Aaron happened to be convenient. Admittedly, he is gorgeous, but isn’t he a bit young for you?”

  “You’re both right, of course. But I can’t get him out of my head. I think about him constantly. I want to touch him so bad I feel like screaming. I don’t know what to do. He swears he is eighteen.”

  “Did you talk to Otto?” Mrs. S said. “You’ve always said he gives good advice.”

  “Not this time, he didn’t. He says I should pursue him ‘with all deliberate speed,’ as he put it. He said he’s of age and able to make an informed decision about what he wants to do with his life. Oh, Mom, I’m just at a loss. I haven’t felt these things since Peter and I broke up, and that was two years ago. And I’ll tell you what, just knowing that he’s in town is really upsetting to me. I don’t know if that’s why I’m so hungry for Aaron or what.”

  “I know sugar, it’s hard. But go easy. You don’t even know if Aaron is homosexual or not.”

  “Oh come on, Mom. You know as well as I do that he is. Even LuLu thinks so, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t say it with certainty, but if I had to guess, I’d say yes.”

  I was stunned. These almost-strangers were discussing my sexual inclinations as though they were the latest stock market reports. And worst of all, they all thought I was homosexual. Was I? Did I want Scott to continue his advances? Despite getting sick before, I knew I was really flattered by his attentions. Did I want that to continue?

  I walked around the corner and practically yelled at them. “I’m not queer. Where you get that idea is beyond me. Just leave me alone.” And then I stormed into the lobby, intending to get my things and head for home, leaving the job and this utter discontent behind me.

  Bob was there and saw that I was upset. “What’s the problem, sport? You look like you just got hit in the face.”

  “It’s nothing, Bob. They’ve just been standing out there in broad daylight deciding whether I was queer or not, and they seem to believe that I am. What do you think?”

  “What?” he said. “That’s not something others can decide for you. Either you are or you aren’t. That’s something you have to determine for yourself. Come over here, and I’ll tell you something.”

  I walked over to the counter, and he leaned over and spoke softly into my ear. “Don’t tell anybody this, but I had sex with a couple of guys in the Navy. I can’t say it was the greatest sex I ever had, but it really was fun. I still do it now and again. There’s nothing so tragic about it. The only problem is that society isn’t as understanding as you might like. If you think you might be gay—and the preferred term is ‘gay,’ by the way—why not try it? If you’re willing to go to a whorehouse tonight, why not try it with a man, too? And if you find out you like it, so what? I like it sometimes. It hasn’t stopped my life, I have a great wife and wonderful kids. Have you ever read the Kinsey Report?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a study done some years ago that shows most of the population, men and women, have had some same-sex sexual experiences. Only a small percentage of people is exclusively one way or the other.”

  Just then the women and Scott walked in.

  “Oh, precious, I’m so sorry you heard us talking about you like you were an inanimate object,” Miss LuLu said. “You must realize, though, that we all care a great deal about you. These past many weeks have brought us together in a rather strange way, don’t you think? We are becoming very close, very fast.”

  “She’s right,” Mrs. S said. “We never meant to hurt you. We were jus
t involved in conversation and didn’t realize how what we were saying would sound to you. Please accept my apologies.”

  “Don’t be mad at them, Aaron. It’s my fault. I began the conversation with them, and they were just responding to my issues,” Scott said.

  “God, I’ve said it before, but I still can’t believe the sex life of an eighteen-year-old kid could be of such paramount importance for you people,” I said. “If, in fact, you do like me, I wish you’d quit talking about it. What I choose to do or not do is not anybody’s business but my own.”

  “Ah, but remember,” Miss LuLu said, “you began this process after Scott kissed you by asking me for input into your confusions. We really do care about you. Maybe our way of showing that concern is faulty, but our care is genuine.”

  That smoothed my ruffled feathers a bit, and we all went about our business. About six that evening, I ran into Bob, who told me Mrs. S was looking for me. I went up to her apartment and rang the bell.

  She opened the door, wearing a lovely blue shift dress that did a reasonably good job of hiding most of her. “Hi, sweetheart. We were going out to dinner, and I thought it would help you accept our apologies if you went with us. Scott wants to drive the Mercedes, and since we won’t all fit, we’ll go in the Lincoln. Ron and Mimi will join us. Why don’t you pull it around, and we’ll be ready shortly.”

  “That really does sound nice, Mrs. S. I apologize for snapping at you this afternoon.”

  “Nonsense, sugar. You had every right to be incensed by our blatant discussion of you. Again, I apologize to you. Come around about eight tonight.”

  At about eight, I went around the front of the motel and pulled the Lincoln back to Mrs. S’s apartment. A moment later, Miss LuLu walked up, followed soon by Mimi and Ron. “Where’s Scott?” Mimi asked. “I’m really hungry; he better not be late. Hi, Aaron, I’m glad you’re going with us tonight. We want Mexican food, and Miss LuLu has been raving about that little place you took her to the other day. La Posada, or something wasn’t it?”

  “La Posta,” I corrected. “I love that place. There’s Scott now.”

  The five of us piled in the Lincoln while Scott pulled out in the Mercedes.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Imperial. The Lincoln. The Cadillac. The Mercedes.

  No sooner did I pull out of the driveway than I caught sight of a car on my right, no headlights, coming the wrong way down the street, straight at us, while I also noticed bright headlights coming the other way, also right at us. I tried to yell for everyone to brace themselves, but all I managed was a groan as the cars collided. It felt like the two cars smashed into us at the same time; then I felt what I later learned was Scott in the Mercedes slamming into the rear end of the Lincoln. I remembered hearing screams from Ron and the women, and that’s the last I remember.

  *

  “My God, Dad. You never told me about this.”

  “Well, there was no long-term damage, at least not to me, but let me finish. It’s really amazing what happened later.”

  *

  When I opened my eyes, I was in a cramped hospital bed, my left arm at an odd angle, tied up with about a ton of gauze, and my left leg in traction. The cast ran from my toes to my hip. As I groggily opened my eyes, I saw bouquets of flowers all around what appeared to be a private room. That’s when I remembered the accident the night before. Or I assumed it was the night before.

  I was dazedly looking things over when a nurse walked in, glanced at me, and promptly left, returning shortly. She informed me that she had notified the doctor I had finally come to. She took my vital signs, and in a few minutes the doctor entered. I was surprised to see another woman, having never been taken care of by a woman doctor before. “How’re you doing, Aaron?” she asked. “I’m Dr. Hawkins. You had us pretty worried there for a while.”

  “What happened?”

  “You were in a major accident, and you’ve been out for two days. You were the only one injured, but the pile-up blocked Mesa Street for the better part of four hours. Traffic was a nightmare.”

  “Jesus. It must have been my fault, since I was pulling into traffic.”

  “Not according to the police report and the newspapers. Apparently, the woman who hit you was on the wrong side of the road. She was so drunk she thought she was in Mexico and could drive on whichever side of the road she wanted. At least, I think that’s what she told the cops. It goes without saying, of course, that she was uninjured. The other car that hit you was a new Cadillac, going the right way in traffic, but it still managed to plow into your side of the car. That’s where most of your injuries came from.”

  “Oh, God…I don’t feel very good…” I began vomiting uncontrollably. The nurse quickly grabbed a basin and held it in place for me, minimizing the mess. She cleaned me up and I thanked her, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly exhausted. “I think I want to sleep for a while.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Dr. Hawkins said. “If you feel any more pain in your arm or leg, notify the nurse immediately.”

  Both women exited the room, and I must have immediately fallen asleep.

  I was having the most erotic dream I had ever had. Someone was rubbing my chest and playing with my nipples, teasing between my pecs. Then the unidentifiable someone rubbed my abdomen, outlining all the muscles there. I felt a hand brushing against my inner thigh, barely touching my privates. I was enjoying the dream, and when I began really feeling aroused, I woke up to find Scott fondling me.

  “God damn it. Get away from me. Nurse! Where’s the fucking call bell? Nurse!” I was screaming so hysterically that two nurses and an orderly ran in. Scott just stood there looking horrified.

  “Calm down, Aaron, calm down. What seems to be the problem?” one of the nurses asked as he rearranged my hospital gown, which had fallen loose.

  “I woke up and he was fondling me. Get that pervert out of here. Get him out.” I was yelling as I tried to get out of the bed myself, only making my arm and leg begin throbbing all over again. “You son of a bitch. Get out of this room now.”

  “Mr. Schuster, maybe you should go. He’s really agitated. We’ll call the doctor and get him a sedative, but for now, go on into the waiting room.”

  *

  “Dad. You mean he came at you again? What a pervert.”

  “Well, hold on. There’s more to the story.”

  *

  Scott left meekly with the nurses, the orderly leaving once he’d straightened things up a bit. Gads, I didn’t even know if what I thought had happened had actually happened. Had Scott been fondling me? Or was it a dream and Scott was just there at an inopportune time? But I was in too much pain to worry about anything except getting a pain shot.

  Within a matter of seconds, one of the nurses returned and gave me a sedative and a shot. I quickly drifted back to sleep.

  I was pretty groggy for another day or so, but eventually the fog lifted, and I felt pretty perky despite the intermittent pain. The doctors took the restraint off my arm. My shoulder had apparently been cracked and dislocated rather badly but was well on the way to healing. My leg still throbbed, but not as badly as before. I finally began seeing the visitors who left the flowers and candy and stuffed animals. Pat had been coming by daily and continued to do so. Many of my friends came by, catching me up on the latest gossip. Mrs. Schuster, Miss LuLu, and Bob made their daily pilgrimage to visit, which was nice, but I told them in no uncertain terms that Scott was not allowed. When asked why, I merely told them to ask Scott. Days passed, and the doctor changed my cast to one I could walk on. The physical therapist worked with me several times a day, walking first a few steps and then around the room, finally up and down the halls. A week or so later, I was ready to go home.

  I had originally called my roommate to come get me, but he was in class, so I asked Bob to pick me up, certain he would keep Scott away from me. When he arrived, I was all set to leave. We stopped by the billing office on the way out. I had no idea how I was going to pay,
but the billing clerk said the Imperial lady was at fault and her insurance covered everything.

  Rather than dropping me off at my apartment, Bob took me back to the Rancho. When I asked why, he said I was still in need of help, and this way they could guarantee that I got it. Plus, Bob said, it was the only way my mother would allow me to stay in town. If I went back to my apartment, she was going to come and drag me to Dallas with her.

  “But, Bob, this is silly. I can walk, I can get around easily, and since it’s my left leg, I can even drive, I think. Just let me go home.”

  “Actually, sport, the doctor wasn’t going to release you unless we promised some sort of daily care would be provided. You’re still beat up a bit inside. So you see, it’s really doctor’s orders. And Mom’s orders as well. Besides, your little Falcon is a stick shift. How’re you going to use the clutch and steer when you can only drive with one arm and one foot?”

  Feeling too tired to argue, I just let Bob drive up to the room they had arranged for me…not surprisingly, near Scott’s. “That creep better not even think about coming near me.”

  “God, Aaron, what happened at the hospital? The nurse said you were wild, demanding that Scott leave immediately or you’d call the police. You even threw your water pitcher at him. Good thing it was Styrofoam.”

  “I don’t remember that. I just remember what he did to me.”

  “What was that?”

  “I’m too humiliated to discuss it, let’s just say he took advantage of me when I was most vulnerable.”

  “I think you’re wrong, Aaron. Scott said he had just sat down when you woke up screaming at him. The nurses said they saw Scott walk in just as you started screaming.”

  Now it was my turn to be shocked. “What? You mean he wasn’t there when I thought he was…uh, doing what he was doing?”

  “No, Aaron. I think you had a bad dream.”