Milton Granby: Four to a bed

Harry Pitt stared at the large color print in his hand, unable to take his eyes off the coolly smiling face of the beautiful woman depicted in it. It was an exceptionally good photograph, perfectly in focus, and Harry felt a tremor of thrilling excitement shoot unwillingly through him as his avid gaze continued to devour the sultry lines of the woman’s exquisitely sculpted body. She was wearing a plain woolen dress, which at first glance seemed. somewhat prim, but as Harry continued to stare, the molded curve of her voluptuous breasts was revealed by the tight fit of her garment which also swept snugly along the arc of her hips, displaying to undoubted advantage the enticing flare of her thighs. Her glossy black hair was piled high on her head and her lips were slightly parted in a provocative smile.

“She’s really something isn’t she?” Jeff’s voice broke in on Harry’s reverie, and he turned to look at his companion, feeling a stab of envy tugging at his stomach at the recollection that the glorious creature in the photograph was the other man’s wife.

“Y-yes, she is,” he mumbled, reluctantly handing back the alluring snapshot.

“Yes,” Jeff went on, replacing the print in his large wallet. “My Ann’s quite a girl. Six years of Wedded Bliss, as they call it, and I’m still as crazy about her as ever! And let me tell you,” he added, wheeling around to face the younger man again, “it’s not an easy job keeping Jeff Green interested!”

Harry could well believe his newly acquired friend’s egotistical remark. He was a tall muscular man in his middle forties with dark good looks and the air of a man who has been around the world a bit. Harry had already gleaned, from their limited conversation, that Jeff was a connoisseur as far as women were concerned, and he thought with a trace of bitterness that his stunning wife reflected the taste of an expert.

"Hey, cheer up, man!” Jeff inveigled, putting his arm on the younger man’s shoulder. "I thought that photo of Ann would chase away your blues! Of course, if you knew her, like I know her, you wouldn’t be able to think of anything else! Boy, I can hardly wait to get back home and get her in-”

“It’s being in this goddamned cell that’s driving me nuts!” Harry interrupted, angrily loosening his tie and opening the top button on his creased white shirt. His dark blue Brooks Brothers suit was beginning to be rumpled and his usually shiny shoes were coated with a thin film of grime.

“I keep telling you, Harry; you’ve nothing to worry about. A day or two in the cooler never hurt anyone, and you’ll be out come Monday, for sure. What about me? I’ve been here a week already, going Out of my mind wondering if that’ sexy wife of mine hasn’t found a new bed partner! You’d have something to complain about-”

“But at least there’s a valid reason why you’re in here,” Harry insisted obstinately and then laughed weakly. “Look Jeff, I didn’t mean…”

“No, you have a point,” Jeff agreed, flicking some dust particles from the sleeve of his sports jacket. “They’ve got something on me or at least they think they have, but they haven’t yet beat Mike… one of the best lawyers in the City!”

“Well, I sure could use him!” Harry grimaced. “That’s just it, you’re somebody… a big shot… you’ll find a way to get out of this goddamned hole. You’ve got the money and the contacts! I’ve got neither, and all I did was to go a few lousy miles over the speed limit!” His doubled fist came crashing down with a resounding smash on the small table beside the narrow beds. “And all because of that damned demonstration!”

“Take it easy!” Jeff soothed, “I’m telling you, they’re just cracking down on everyone this weekend. They’re afraid with all the kids pouring in from everywhere.”

‘Why the hell couldn’t they stay at home? What do they know about the war? Dirty unkempt layabouts… a hard day’s work would kill them! Sponging off their parents on the pretext of studying and then spending their time causing trouble, harassing the police, filling themselves up with dope. And who suffers? The innocent mugs, like me, trying to make an honest living after working my guts out to get through college! Christ! If I had one of those hairy bastards here now…”

“Don’t be so hard on them, my boy,” Jeff suggested. “After all, it’s time somebody stood up to the Machine which has been desperately trying to coat us with all the whitewash of conformity. I admire these kids! They-”

“Don’t tell me you’re on their side!” Harry spat, fury burning in his intense blue eyes, his face distorted with rage.

“Well, it’s pretty obvious from my activities that I’m not a System man, isn’t it?” Jeff smiled, examining his nails intently.

A wave of depression swept over Harry, and wearily he sat down on the edge of the bed, sinking his head in his hands. Since the police had picked him up last night, everything was a nightmare. He felt he was in a trance when he found himself pushed into the cramped cell after being allowed the briefest of phone calls to his wife. He couldn’t believe it was happening to him, Harry Pitt! And yet there was reality! Locked up in a decrepit cell with an amoral, slick gangster, held for the umpteenth time on some kind of gambling violation. What was the world coming to? None of this would have happened in the first place, he lamented, if those damned hippies, and good-for-nothing students hadn’t decided to have their antiwar march here in Chicago this weekend. But they had, and he had the bad luck to be a few miles over the speed limit on one of the streets heavily patrolled by the riot squad. He closed his eyes in agony as he recalled his bad luck that led to his incarceration, and his mouth worded obscenities as he thought about the demonstrators.

“I hope the police crack their goddamned skulls for them, the lazy sons-of-bitches! It’s what they deserve. They should be kept off the streets so decent folk can get on with their lives!”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it now, anyway,” Jeff commiserated. “Monday won’t be long coming and you’ll be out. As for me, God knows how long I’ll be left in here this time!”

Harry felt a sudden stab of sympathy for his newfound friend. His conviction was really serious… if he was found guilty, it could mean years of imprisonment. Maybe his own case wasn’t so bad after all…

“I haven’t shown you a picture of my wife,” Harry said suddenly, at once anxious to change the subject. He searched clumsily in his wallet and withdrew a small black and white photo. Without looking at it, he handed it to Jeff who immediately took it over to examine it in the light from the small barred window.

“Wow! What a little angel!” he said, his eyes widening as he stared at the image of the lovely, almost ethereal blonde who was looking back at him with limpid dark eyes, her small oval face framed by a cloud of shimmering blonde hair. Yes, an angel , Harry thought, that’s what Sandy is.

“She’s a real beaut!” Jeff exclaimed, “How old did you say she is?”

“Eighteen!” Harry answered, suddenly shy. “We’ve only been married for two months. I know she’s terribly young, but… but we couldn’t wait!”

“Yes, I can see why,” Jeff mused, unable to draw his lascivious gaze away from the haunting beauty reflected in the fragile face of the young bride. Surreptitiously, he drew the tip of his tongue over his dry lips, his eyes still riveted on the photograph, as if spellbound by what he saw. The photograph was only a head and shoulders study, but Jeff could just make out the beginning of the swell of her ripe young breasts through her tightly drawn sweater, and a thrill of interest coursed through him.