David Goodis - The Moon in the Gutter

“Not there,” Lola said. “I told you to bring it here. To me. And bring your face here so I can smack it again.”

Bella swallowed hard. She was afraid to move. Kerrigan reached for the pepper shaker and handed it to Lola, who took it without looking at it. Lola aimed a dim but dangerous smile at her daughter.

“You’re gonna get it,” Lola said. “I can see you’re itching for it, and before the night’s over you’re gonna get it like you never got it before. I’m telling you, girl, you got a rotten evil temper and I’m gonna knock it out of you if I have to break every bone in your body.”

Bella’s lips were trembling. She started toward the doorway leading out of the kitchen. Lola caught her arm, pulled her away from the doorway, then shoved her back to the sink.

“You ain’t finished here yet,” Lola said. “You gotta do them knives and forks. And when he’s through eating, you’ll have his plates to do.”

Bella seemed to be choking. “Me do his plates? I gotta clean up after him?”

“You heard me,” Lola said.

Kerrigan squirmed in his chair. “I can wash my own dishes.”

“I said she’s gonna wash them,” Lola said loudly and firmly.

Kerrigan shrugged. He knew there was no use arguing with Lola.

She heaped his plate with the beef stew and the rice and the squash. She put six slices of bread on the plate, poured coffee into a thick cup, then backed away from the table and watched him tackle the meal.

Kerrigan ate slowly, chewing thoroughy, savoring each mouthful. As he sat there enjoying the meal, the kitchen was quiet except for the busy noise of his knife and fork on the plate. He completely forgot the presence of Bella, whose eyes alternated between raging glares at him and wary glances at her mother.

His plate was empty now, and Lola said, “Ready for more?”

He nodded, pushing bread into his mouth.

Lola looked at Bella and said, “Don’t stand there. Pick up his plate.”

Bella swallowed hard. Her voice cracked slightly as she stared pleadingly at her mother and said, “It ain’t bad enough I gotta wash his dishes. Now you want me to bring him his meal. Like a servant.”

Lola’s eyes softened just a little. She shook her head slowly. “No,” she murmured. “Not like a servant. After all, you’re his woman, ain’t you?”

Kerrigan winced. He looked up and studied Lola’s face and all at once he knew what was in her mind. In her own blunt way she was saying to her daughter, If you want him for a husband, I’ll show you how to get him.

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He had a strange feeling that the walls were closing in on him and he itched to get out of the house. Until now it hadn’t occurred to him that Lola wanted him for a son-in-law. But as he noticed how Lola was nodding approvingly, he realized there was a plan in action, and for a fearful moment he could see himself married to Bella.

But then, as the steaming food was placed before him and he saw the smooth richness of Bella’s skin, he said to himself, Why not?

He watched her as she turned away from the table, and saw how her hips moved. The construction was there, the face was there, and all he had to do was buy her a ring and he’d have all that for keeps.

Another thing. He’d soon be thirty-five and it was high time he got married. What the hell was he waiting for?

He pictured himself putting the ring on Bella’s finger. He had the feeling it would settle a lot of questions that clouded his brain and circled around in there, a vague merry-go-round of issues that he just couldn’t figure out. Since last night he’d been walking back and forth in a fog, doing things he didn’t want to do, operating way off the beam and wondering what in God’s name it was all about. Things had happened much too fast, making him dizzy, taking his feet off the ground. But there was a fast way to fix all that.

There’d be no problem in finding the right person to perform a quick ceremony. On Third Street, off Vernon, a little old Greek was capable of legally tying the knot in a matter of seconds. The Greek’s son worked in City Hall, in the Marriage Bureau, and was faced with no trouble at all when it came to stealing licenses. The father and son were extremely popular in the neighborhood, for when Vernon men decided to make it legal, they didn’t like to wait.

A blunt voice cut in on his thoughts. He heard Bella saying, “More coffee?”

He looked up. She was standing at the stove. He glanced around the kitchen, but Lola wasn’t there and he wondered when she’d walked out of the room. Then he gazed down at his plate and saw that it was empty and he couldn’t remember having finished the second helping.

“Come out of it,” Bella said, and he knew she’d been watching him for some time. “I asked you if you want more coffee.”

He nodded. But it wasn’t for the coffee. It was just to make a reply.

Bella brought the percolator to the table and poured coffee into his cup. She poured a cup for herself and sat down across from him. Then she put cigarettes on the table and asked him if he wanted one. He nodded again, looking at her intently and trying to establish contact with her. As he leaned forward to get the light from the match she offered, he wondered what the hell was wrong here. He had the downright uncanny feeling that he wasn’t here in the kitchen with Bella, he was someplace else.

“What is it?” Bella said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I had a rough day.”

“You look it,” she murmured. “Who slugged you?”

“It happened on the pier. It didn’t last long.”

“They carry him away?”

“No,” he said. “They carried me.”

She gave him a side glance. “How come? Lose your punch?”

He didn’t say anything. He sipped at the coffee and took long drags at the cigarette and tried not to look at her. But he was focusing on her face, and seeing a parade of questions coming out of her eyes. He compared her present mood with the explosive anger of minutes ago, and realized that she’d calmed down considerably, almost to the point of passivity. He’d never seen her like this, and it made him uneasy. His throat felt tight and he worked his head from side to side, trying to loosen his collar.

“Unbutton it,” she said.

“It’s all right.”

“Don’t you feel hot? Why don’t you take your jacket off?”

“I want it on.” He spoke just a little louder. “You don’t mind, do you?”

He was hoping she’d curse him, or say anything that would get the shouting started, their normal means of communication.

But all she said was, “Of course I don’t mind. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“All right, I’m comfortable. You satisfied?”

She didn’t reply. For some moments she just sat there looking at him. Then, in a strangely quiet tone, “I want to know why you’re all dressed up.”

He opened his mouth to give her an answer. His mouth stayed open but no sound came out.

Bella leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “Come on, let’s have it. You might as well tell me who she is. I’ve seen her already.”

He blinked a few times.

“Last night,” Bella said. “I was in bed, waiting for you. When you didn’t come in, I got up to see what you were doing. I went into the parlor and took a look through the front window. I saw you talking to her. And then the two of you got into the car and drove away.”

He managed to look away from her. “It wasn’t what you think.”

Her face was expressionless. “I haven’t told you what I think. I’m waiting to hear what your plans are.”

“What plans?”

Bella’s eyes were drills going into him. “You and her.”