A. Fair - Shills Can't Cash Chips

“Donald!” she exclaimed.

“Hello,” I said dejectedly.

“Donald, wait for me. Wait, I want to talk with you.”

She hurried up to the checking counter, said, “Check these through, please, and give me my change.”

She dropped twenty dollars in front of the checker, hurried through and took my arm.

“Donald, why did you duck out on me yesterday?”

“I... I was afraid I was going to go out of control.”

“What do you mean, out of control?”

“I said something I hadn’t intended to.”

“What, about your past? You didn’t tell me anything.”

“No, about... about your legs.”

She laughed. “What about my legs, Donald?”

“They’re wonderful.”

“Silly boy!” she said. “Did you think I didn’t know I had good-looking legs? They’re part of me, I use them to walk around with and when I want to impress somebody — well, I did give you a good look, Donald, when you were nice to me and had started that car for me.”

“You’re not angry because I—”

“I’d have been angry if you hadn’t.”

The checker said, “Here you are, ma’am, three dollars and twelve cents and here’s your change out of the twenty.”

Doris moved over to the paper bag.

I hesitated for just the right period of time, then said, “May I?” and picked up the bag for her.

I carried it out to the car.

“Just put it in back, Donald.”

I put it in back and held the car door open for her.

“What are you going to do now, Donald?”

“Going back to San Francisco.”

“You saw the person you wanted to see?”

“Yes.”

“Get what you wanted?”

“No.”

“Get in,” she said.

“I—”

“Get in. I’ll give you a ride uptown — and don’t jump out on me this time.”

I got in the car.

Doris had her short skirt up to the hemline of her stockings and this time she didn’t make the gesture of pulling it down.

She backed the car out of the stall, drove out of the parking lot and as we left the parking lot I got a glimpse of the tall, rangy individual who had been driving the Ford yesterday. This time he was driving a nondescript Plymouth that had seen plenty of use.

We got into traffic. The Plymouth was four cars behind.

Doris said, “Donald, you’re lonely, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“And you’ve been starved for... for feminine companionship?”

“Could be.”

“And you’re going to San Francisco, Donald, and you’re going to get into trouble. You wanted something here. What did you want — to get a job in that supermarket?”

“Could be.”

“And because you couldn’t get it, you’ve given up the idea of going straight. You’re going to San Francisco — why?”

“I know somebody there.”

“Man or woman?”

“Woman.”

“Young?”

“So-so.”

“Attractive?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve known her before?”

“Before what?”

“Before you got in trouble.”

“Could be.”

“Donald, you know what’ll happen. You’ll need money and you’ll meet some of the old gang up there and the first thing you know you’ll be in trouble all over again and be back.”

“Back where?”

“San Quentin.”

She looked at me with a sidelong, searching gaze.

I hung my head and didn’t say anything.

“Donald, I want you to do something.”

“What?”

“Come up to my apartment.”

“Huh?” I said, jolting to quick attention.

“I just want to talk with you,” she said. “I want to find out something about you. Perhaps I can help you. Are you hungry?”

“Not too hungry.”

“But you’re hungry?”

“I could eat.”

She said, “Look, I’ve got a nice filet mignon in the ice box. I’m going to cook that for you and you’re going to sit down and relax. You’re under some sort of tension and it bothers me. You’re too nice to just go drifting back into trouble.”

“You’re taking an awful lot for granted,” I told her.

“People have to take each other for granted sometimes.”

I didn’t say anything for a while, but watched her driving the car.

“Like them today, Donald?” she asked.

“What?”

“The legs.”

“They’re wonderful.”

She smiled.

We drove in silence until we came to the apartment house. She parked in the vacant lot.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the tall, rangy guy in the Plymouth park at the curb half a block away.

I got out of the car, walked around and held the door open for her.

She swung her knees from under the steering wheel and slid to the ground. “You can take the bag of groceries, Donald.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“Doris,” she said.

“Yes, Doris.”

I took the bag of groceries and closed the car door. We walked to the apartment house and went up in the elevator.

Doris walked down to her apartment, fitted the key to the door, walked in and said, “Make yourself at home, Donald. Would you like a drink?”

“I don’t think I’d better.”

“It is a little early,” she said. “I’m going to cook you a nice steak.”

“No,” I said, “you don’t have to. I—”

“Hush,” she said. “You sit right down in that chair and be comfortable and I’m going to broil that steak and I’ll talk with you while the steak’s broiling.”

I sat in the comfortable chair she indicated.

Doris moved around with swift efficiency.

“You’re not going to have much in the line of vegetables,” she said, ‘but you’re going to have a darned good steak, with bread and butter and potato chips and coffee... How do you like your steak, rare, medium...?” she hesitated.

“Rare.”

“Good,” she said.

“You?” I asked her.

“I’ve just had breakfast, not too long ago — besides, I’m watching my figure.”

“So am I,” I told her, and then caught myself up short.

She laughed and said, “Go ahead and watch, Donald. I don’t mind.”

She plugged in a coffee percolator, put the steak in the broiler, and came over and sat on the arm of my chair.

“Are you looking for something to do, Donald?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps you could do something for me.”

“What?”

“A job.”

“I’d love it.”

“It might be — well, a little risky.”

“I’d take risks for you.”

“Donald, don’t keep moving away from me. I’m not going to bite you.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of what I might do.”

“What might you do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Donald, you’re lonely. You’ve been deprived of women for so long you’ve forgotten how to treat one. Put your arm around my waist. Here... like this.”

She took my arm. I put it around her waist.

She smiled down at me.

I tightened my arm.

She slid off the arm of the chair into my lap and her arm was around my neck. Her lips were pressing against mine. Then her mouth opened slowly and she melted into my arms.

After a minute she said, “Donald, you’re wonderful. Now be a good boy for a few minutes. I’ve got to watch that steak.”

She slid down off my lap and went to the broiler, took a long-handled fork, turned the steak over, put the fork down and was starting back to the chair, her eyes starry, her lips parted, when the buzzer sounded on the door.

For a moment her eyes were startled and incredulous. Then she half-whispered, “No, oh, no!”

The buzzer sounded again.

Doris came running to me. She grabbed my hand, pulled me up out of the chair. “Quick, Donald,” she whispered. “In this closet. In there. Stay there. It’ll only be a few minutes. Quick!”