The Beebo Brinker Omnibus

by Ann Bannon

  Laura slipped her jacket off without a word, thinking of the loud quarrels she and Beth used to have. And how they resolved them with love. A little curl of excitement twisted around her innards.

  “Well?” Marcie said sharply. “Did he throw you down in the street?”

  Laura was startled, offended. Marcie had no right to say such a thing. “What do you mean?” she said.

  “Your dress,” Marcie said, nodding at it.

  Laura looked down at it. Beebo had dragged it over the bathroom floor and the dirt, together with a hasty pressing job, made her look like she’d been through a scuffle. “Marcie,” she said, trying to control her voice, and not sure when she started talking what she was going to say, “Marcie, I didn’t sleep with Jack.”

  Marcie turned her eyes down to the book she was holding and her expression said, Tell me another one. “With who, then?” she said.

  Laura pressed her lips together and sat down on Marcie’s bed. I won’t yell at her, she told herself. I can’t take the chance. I’d say the truth, I’d blurt it out by mistake.

  “Marcie, I just ended up down in the Village.”

  “Did you wander around all night?”

  “No. No.” She looked down at the floor. “Well, I—”

  “You what?” Marcie looked at her.

  “Marcie, I didn’t spend the night with Jack.” Her voice begged for understanding.

  “Jack has friends.”

  Even in her mounting irritation Laura sensed jealousy and it thrilled her. “Yes, Jack has friends. And they aren’t all men.”

  “Don’t tell me you spent the night with a girl. Ha! That’s even better. You just hang around with anybody who’s handy, don’t you.”

  “You aren’t very choosy yourself, Marcie.”

  “Only with Burr!” Marcie flashed angrily. “I only sleep with Burr. And I was married to him. Besides, I haven’t let him touch me for weeks. You’ve never been married, not to Jack or anybody else.”

  “And I’ve never slept with Jack or anybody else.”

  “I don’t believe you!”

  Laura stood up and looked down at her. “You don’t have to, Marcie,” she said. “What the hell do you care who I sleep with? Or why? Are you guardian of my morals? Yours aren’t perfect, you know. I haven’t slept with Jack, for your information. Not once. But if I had, what would it matter? You thought it was all a good joke at first.”

  Marcie’s face began to color. She put her book down and looked diffidently at Laura, who was standing by her dresser taking off her clothes. Marcie ran her fingers over her lips, as if warning herself to shut up, and Laura thought to herself, Just like me. Just like me when Beth used to taunt me. I wanted her so. And I was so afraid.

  “I didn’t know it would get so serious, at first. With Jack,” Marcie said, her attitude softening. “I feel like it’s my fault, what you’re doing, and I—I feel real bad about it. I’m scared. Maybe you’ll get into trouble, maybe you’ll blame me then. You get so odd sometimes. I guess I’m just being selfish, Laur. But—” She gave an audible sigh that made Laura turn to glance at her. “Laur, will you tell me—will you please tell me—why you keep running out of here at all hours of the night? What am I doing wrong? If you don’t tell me, I’m going to move out of here tomorrow, I swear. I can’t stand it!”

  Laura had to tell her something. She had to lie and she couldn’t lie and as she walked toward Marcie’s bed, she felt something like panic at the thought of losing her. But when she sat down beside her something popped into her head and saved her. She didn’t have to stammer and blush, and she didn’t have to confess her homosexuality. She told Marcie about her father.

  She was almost ashamed to recount what had happened. It was humiliating, and it looked like a bald bid for sympathy. And yet she wanted terribly to touch Marcie’s heart, to win her compassion. “He told the clerk he had no daughter.” She finished. Her shame made her drop her gaze and cover her face with her hands. But Marcie, suddenly moved, put her arms around Laura and cried.

  “Forgive me, Laura,” she whispered. “I’ve been a stupid idiot about this. I don’t know what got into me. Honey, forgive me, I should never have tortured you about it. Whatever your father did to you, he must be a beast. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

  But that was going too far, even for Laura. There had been violent moments of shame and rejection, when she wanted to kill him. But there were others when she wanted only to be allowed to love him. “Don’t say that, Marcie.”

  Marcie looked up at her, her face so close that she gave Laura a start. “Don’t tell me you still feel anything for him?” she said. “After what he did to you?”

  “I don’t know what I feel. I hate him sometimes, Marcie, I hate him so much sometimes that I’m terrified of myself. I think ‘If he were with me right now—if he suddenly appeared—I’d kill him. I’d kill him!’” And she said it with such force that Marcie shuddered. “And then, other times, all I want to do is cry. Just cry till there aren’t any tears left. Get down on my knees and beg him to love me.”

  “It seems so crazy, Laur. My Dad is so nice and ordinary. I couldn’t take it if he ever hurt me like yours. God, you must feel so alone. Laura, let me be close to you. Let me be friends with you. You haven’t up to now, you know.”

  Laura began to feel dizzy. This is too much, this is too easy, she thought, and pangs of conscience came up in her. All I have to do is pull her close, caress her, kiss her, all I have to do—oh, my God! But I can’t! It’d be like corrupting her, like leading her astray. Damn! Why have I got a conscience? Beth didn’t have one. Neither does Beebo. Why me? Why can’t I just take her? But she was too afraid.

  “Laura, talk to me. You’re off in another world again.”

  Laura looked down at her, balanced between desire and fear, between desire and conscience, between desire and…desire, desire…

  “Marcie,” she whispered. “Remember the night you wanted to touch tongues?”

  Marcie laughed a little, embarrassed. “Yes,” she said. “I told Burr about it. He says I’m cracked.”

  Laura was shocked. “You told Burr?” she said, hurt by the betrayal.

  “Well, don’t look so horrified.” Marcie giggled. “Don’t tell me you didn’t tell Jack?”

  And Laura, by her sudden confusion, admitted that she had. With the admission, and the shock, came a clear head. She stood up. Marcie watched her. “I’m going to bed,” Laura said. “I’m too beat to talk. I’m just worn out.”

  Marcie let her go without a word. Her eyes followed Laura around the room. Laura ignored her studiously. She was asleep within minutes after she lay down, too tired even to worry.

  Laura knew she would have to lie to Sarah in the morning about where she spent the day before. She made up her mind to do it fast and simply. She organized a little story about a sick headache and she delivered it quickly, even before Sarah had a chance to ask. Sarah took it at face value.

  At the end of the day, she called Marcie and told her she’d be late. “I’ve got to stay here and catch up,” she explained. “I’ve done nothing but get behind the whole time Jean’s been away. I just can’t seem to get the work done. I’m not going to lose this job.”

  “You’re wearing yourself out, Laur. I think you’re crazy. You can get a much softer job and earn a lot more money. In fact I talked to Mr. Marquardt about you.”

  “You what?”

  “Yes.” She laughed. “Today. I thought it would be fun if we could be in the same office. Besides, I never saw anybody work like you do. It’s insane, when all you have to do is sit around.”

  “Marcie, I don’t want to sit around! I don’t need help! I can do this myself. I know you did it out of friendship but damn it, I want to work. I don’t want to sit around on my behind all day, counting the minutes till the next coffee break.”

  Marcie was taken aback by the forcefulness of it. “Laura, I didn’t mean—” she began, and her voice was hurt.

 
; “I know, I know. I’m grateful, Marcie, forgive me. But I have something to prove, staying here. It’s only hard at first, when you’re learning. It’ll get easier. And in another two weeks there’ll be three of us at the office.”

  She knew she had hurt Marcie’s feelings and when she hung up she wondered if it was worth it. Why don’t I quit? Why don’t I take a soft job, like Marcie? But she knew what scorn her father would pour on a job like that. It was only the tough ones, the ones that took it out of you, that demanded your best, that he had any respect for.

  Laura stayed on until nearly eight by herself. The building was crypt-quiet and she was deep in the last round of reports she intended to do, when the door opened and a voice said, “Laura!”

  Laura gave a gasp of shock, throwing her hands over her face. She was so startled that she found herself trembling all over. For a moment she was unable to move. “Laura?” he said again.

  Laura turned slowly around in her swivel chair, taking her hands away from her face. She looked up, her face cold and white and resentful. It was Burr. She didn’t say a word. She only stared at him in surprise. She felt overflowing with hatred for him, as if Merrill Landon were standing there.

  Burr was somewhat taken aback. “Marcie said you were down here,” he said, a little awkwardly. “I wanted to talk to you.” He shrugged, and pulled Sarah’s chair out from her desk, sitting down about five feet from Laura. She said nothing.

  “Laura,” he said, embarrassed. “We started out to be pretty good friends, you and I.” He turned his hat around and around in his hands, studying it while he talked. “Then—I don’t know why—we seemed to—well, we just didn’t have anything to say to each other. I guess maybe because we always talked about books. And Marcie. You don’t seem to be reading any books anymore. And Marcie—well…” He seemed at a loss for words here. He twirled his hat assiduously, as if that might give him some answers. But it was no help. “Of course, I haven’t been around much lately, either,” he said.

  Laura was suddenly a little scared. But she was determined not to be any more helpful than his hat. She only glared at him. She still hadn’t said a word to him.

  After all, she thought, I haven’t done anything. He still hasn’t said what he wants.

  “Well, frankly Laura, Marcie’s changed. I don’t know what the hell’s come over her. I thought maybe you could help me out.” He eyed her closely. “I guess it sounds pretty silly. But I love her, and all of a sudden I can’t even see her anymore. I can’t get near her. She’s just not interested.” When Laura still said nothing he went on, “I mean, I know it’s not your problem, but I thought, being her roommate, you know, you might help me out.” He looked up at her, smiling a little, but his smile faded when he saw the look on her face.

  Laura was thinking, Why the hell should I help you? But she said, “Why don’t you stop fighting with her, Burr? Maybe that would help.” Her voice was faintly sarcastic.

  “When we fought,” he said, “at least we could always make up. That was fun. We both enjoyed it. Then all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago, Marcie wouldn’t fight anymore. I don’t know what the hell got into her. She just got quiet and thoughtful. She wouldn’t fight and she wouldn’t make love. I’m beginning to think she needed to fight before she could make love. Maybe that’s the only thing that excited her.” He looked quizzically at Laura.

  “How would I know? Maybe you needed it,” Laura said and shrugged.

  By her reticence she had made Burr uncomfortable. “Well, I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing to bother you with,” he said, making a visible effort to control his temper. “But damn it, Laura, I love her. She’s my wife. I still think of her that way, I can’t help it. I was a fool ever to let her have that divorce.”

  “Do you think getting married again would change any of that?” Laura said. “Don’t you think it would just be the same old fights all over again?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Maybe. But I’d rather live with Marcie and fight than live without her and be this miserable.”

  “Does fighting make you happy?”

  “I don’t mind it. Not enough to make me give her up again.”

  “You talk like a kid, Burr,” she said, wondering what authority gave her the right to pronounce judgments. And then she reasoned that Burr himself gave her the right. He asked for it. Okay, he’d get it. “If you want to win Marcie back, find out what’s the trouble and change it. If you want my opinion—and I guess that’s why you’re here—I don’t think you should go back together. I think Jack’s right; you were never meant for each other. It’s purely physical.”

  These were hard words, but even so Laura wasn’t prepared for the effect they produced. Burr went pale and his mouth dropped open. Suddenly he stood up. “Jack said that?” he said incredulously. “Jack?”

  And Laura went a little sick. She had violated a confidence, without even meaning to. The one person she couldn’t bear to hurt, to alienate right now, was Jack. “Maybe I’m mistaken,” she said quickly. But who else could it be? “It was me, Burr, I don’t know why I said that. It wasn’t Jack.”

  “Oh, it was you!” He had been surprised into a fury. He had been nursing his grievance, trying to talk calmly to Laura. Now his feelings got out of control. “Well, I’ll tell you something, Laura. I don’t believe you. It was Jack or you wouldn’t have said so. You’re a lousy liar. Now suppose you explain something to me.” He leaned with his fists on her desk.

  Laura leaned away from him, frightened now. “Calm down, Burr,” she said, but he ignored her.

  “You and Jack can both go to hell!” he said. “You’ve been psychoanalyzing the situation over a couple of beers in your spare time. A couple of cocktail hour psychologists. Oh, don’t think I can’t see it. Well, I don’t give a damn what you think. I love Marcie!” He was shouting. “I love her! And I’d like to know why the hell she doesn’t love me anymore. Why, Laura? You tell me. Why would she rather stay home with you at night than go out with me? Why does she talk about Laura, Laura, Laura all the time? Laura reads this, Laura does that, Laura says! God, I’m sick of it!” His ugly suspicions exploded in her face.

  “She doesn’t, Burr, you’re mistaken.”

  “Mistaken!” he roared, his face turning scarlet “Mistaken! Oh, you’re a bitch, Laura! Mistaken! And she won’t make love to me anymore. She won’t see me. You’re the only one she gives a damn about. She can’t get enough of you at home, she’s got to get you a job in her own office. Yes, she told me about it,” he interrupted himself, when Laura gave a little gasp.

  “Burr, you fool, you’re making things up,” Laura said. She looked cold and controlled, but there was a terror inside her that he couldn’t see. She rose in her seat and faced him, their faces not a foot apart. “Now get out of here.” It had worked before with other men. It had to work now with Burr. She would give him no satisfaction.

  “Don’t tell me you’re not up to some God-damn funny business,” he growled.

  “I’m not up to any God-damn funny business,” she replied quietly.

  “Then what’s all this crap about touching tongues? In the dark? In bed? Why does Marcie follow you around like you were Svengali?”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “Don’t tell me she doesn’t!” he shouted in a fury, bringing his fist down with a huge thump on her desk. “I know she does. I know!”

  “Burr, you’re insane with jealousy.”

  “What’s going on between you two?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m a bad liar, you said it yourself. If I had ever touched Marcie I couldn’t lie about it.” She glared at him, her face a mask, almost white; her eyes brilliant and her body tense.

  “You want her. Admit it.” He was quiet now, but it was the quiet of hatred.

  “I won’t admit anything. Who the hell are you? I don’t owe you any explanations.”

  “She’s my wife.”

  “So she’s your wife. She’s my
roommate. She prefers to live with me.” Laura was dangerously near throwing her advantage in his face.

  “You are queer! By God, I knew it!”

  “How dare you!” And the hot blood came to Laura’s face. “Get out of here! You bastard!”

  “All right, deny it, then.”

  “I’m not accountable to you, Burr. I won’t admit or deny anything. I don’t have to. I’ll call the police if you don’t get out of here. I’ll sue you for libel if you make that accusation in public. I never laid a hand on Marcie.”

  “That’s not what Marcie said.”

  For a shocked second Laura was unable to move or respond. Then she gasped and staggered a little. There was a terrible silence, heavy with the awful meaning of his words.

  Laura sat down shaking. She began to cry.

  Burr watched her in silent fury for a moment. Then he said, “I thought that’d get you, you bitch.” His voice was low and dry. “I came here to talk to you like a human being, to give you a chance. But you act like a God-damn queen. You act like I was in the wrong, not you! Like I was an animal. Well, you’re no better. You’re a pervert, Laura. And I’m going to get Marcie away from you if have to call out the cops to do it. You’re not going to touch her again.” He turned sharply and started out.

  “Burr! Burr! My God, wait! What did she say? What did she tell you?”

  “Can’t you guess?”

  “She made it up, Burr, believe me. Please believe me.” She was begging him now. “You know how she is.”

  “Yeah, I know how she is. She didn’t make this up.”

  “She did! She’s lying.”

  “She’s telling the truth. You’re perverting her. It’s obvious, even I can see it. Perverting her! My Marcie!” He almost wept when he said it, and Laura instinctively put a hand to her throat as if to protect herself.

  “Burr,” she said, and her voice was deeply intense and quiet, “I swear to you by God and Heaven and everything I hold sacred, I never—”