David Goodis - The Blonde on the Street Corner

He walked toward Dippy’s house.

It was very cold out. On the pavement the snow became a hard, shiny sliding-board of white. At the curb the snow was piled up high. In the streets the chains on automobile tires clanged and sparked as they struck against the sections of asphalt swept clean.

Cold, dry air swished into Ralph’s mouth, and down into his lungs and up to his head. Inside he felt clear and light.

It was a quarter to twelve. Lenore, alone in the house, was in her bedroom. She was not tired. She didn’t want to go to sleep. But there was nothing else to do. Earlier in the evening she had arrived home to find a note from Clarence, stating that he was going to the movies. She knew what he was going to do after the movies. He had to get it somehow. She knew he was paying for it. She got a kick out of that. He would be home tomorrow morning, miserable. She got a kick out of looking at the misery in his eyes.

She walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Behind the ice compartment in the icebox she had a hiding place for her own food. Nobody else in the house knew about it. This was the third hiding place. Dippy had ferreted the other two. The son of a bitch wouldn’t find this one. She reached in and took out an oily-papered package of cold meat, and fixed herself a thick sandwich. She made herself two more sandwiches. She made some lemonade to drink with the sandwiches. She looked around the kitchen. There was cupcake in the bread box. She had that.

Returning to her bedroom, she stood in front of the mirror. Admiring herself, running her fingers through thick blonde hair, she played her tongue along her lips and wondered what she could do instead of going to bed. She scratched herself in the armpits, started to get undressed, and heard the front doorbell ringing.

Probably the mother had forgotten her key. To hell with the old hag. Let her stand out there in the cold. Let her freeze out there. The bell rang again. Lenore leaned her weight on one foot and put her hands on her hips and thought of how warm it was in the house and how cold it was out there. A third time the bell rang.

And then Lenore remembered that although they all had keys, the front door was not locked. She remembered that she had not locked it tonight. She wondered who was at the front door. The bell was not ringing now. Whoever it was must have gone away. But she wanted to know who had been ringing the bell.

She hurried downstairs, opened the front door. She saw him walking away.

“Hey!”

Ralph turned.

“Come here,” Lenore said.

Ralph walked back to the house. He stood at the foot of the steps.

“What did you want?” Lenore said.

“Dippy ain’t home, is he?”

“Come here,” Lenore said. “Come on up. I want to close the door. It’s cold standing here.”

Ralph came up. He walked into the house. Lenore closed the door.

“Take off your coat,” she said.

“Is Dippy here?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “Take off your coat.” She was looking him up and down.

“If he’s not here I guess I’ll be going,” Ralph said. “Do you know where he went?”

“Sure.”

“Where?”

“Why should I tell you?”

Ralph shrugged. He started toward the front door.

“Wait a minute,” Lenore said.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you. Come on in and take off your coat and sit down. What’s the big hurry? You’re not going anywhere.”

“How do you know?”

“I know a lot of things,” Lenore said.

“Yeah?”

Lenore put her hands on her hips and nodded and smiled.

They looked at each other.

Slowly Ralph took off his coat.

In the house it was nice and warm.

Lenore took his coat and carried it into the next room.

He told himself to get the hell out of here.

He sat on the sofa. She came in and sat down beside him. She had a pack of cigarettes.

“Smoke?”

“Thanks. I got my own.”

They smoked. She crossed her legs. She was wearing a silk dress that was rather tight. Underneath the dress she had on a brassiere and panties. She put her hand on her thigh and slowly pulled the dress up. He could see her soft, fat white flesh between the rolled garter and the edge of the dress.

“Do you think Dippy be home soon?” Ralph said, wondering why he was saying it, wondering why he wasn’t getting out of here while the getting was good.

“I don’t know when Dippy is coming home,” Lenore said. “And I don’t care,” she added, very slowly. She turned and looked at him.

He gazed at the floor.

Her dress went up a little higher.

She stood up. “Wait here a minute. I’ll be right down.”

On the sofa Ralph told himself to get out and get out fast. But he sat there, waiting.

And then he heard her calling, “Come upstairs. I want to show you something.”

He stood up. He went into the next room and grabbed his coat. He walked to the front door. He stood there, shifting the coat from one arm to the other.

The coat dropped to the floor.

He went upstairs.

He went into the room. It was dark, except for orange light from the hall.

She was leaning against the dresser, with her hands on her hips. Her lips were wet, and she was sliding her tongue over them again. And then she moved very slowly toward him. He took one step backward and stopped. She came nearer and he got a whiff of perfume. She came up close and put her fat arm around him and let it edge up to his neck. Her fingers played along the back of his neck and his ear and up into his hair. She put the other arm around his middle and pulled him to her. His head went down and she pushed her lips up and clamped them onto his lips and she smiled slowly as she felt his arms sliding around her and tightening. For a while they stood there, and she had his lips locked. Then she was kissing him all over the face. Then she had his lips again. She forced her tongue through his lips. She pulled him to her, and she went back and they were on the bed. She was kissing him and undressing him. She unbuttoned his shirt while he cupped his hand under one of her big breasts. She unhooked his suspender buttons and unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down and threw them on the floor. He started to roll away from her and she rolled on top of him and got hold of him again and put her lips on his.

His eyes were closed. She knew that she had him. She rolled over and took him with her. Then she sensed that he was trying to squirm away. She knew he was scared. But now he was on top of her. His arms were tight. He had a terrific grip. He was trying to let go but he couldn’t. She pulled him tightly. She clamped her lips onto his lips. She pulled as hard as she could because she knew he was trying to get away and all she had to do was to let up for the slice of an instant and he would roll away. She didn’t want to let this one get away. He was all right. He was better than the others. He had a terrific grip. He was scared now but he would get over it and she would see a lot of this one. She couldn’t let him get away. She pulled him down and kept pulling hard and throwing herself up at him. He was still trying to get away. She couldn’t let this one get away. Just then she felt his fingers sink into her arms, just above the elbows. It hurt. She thought he was trying to break her arms. She opened her eyes. She looked up at his face. She looked into his eyes. She became very frightened and breathed fast and hard. Her mouth was open and she wanted to yell but she couldn’t get sound through her lips. And she couldn’t stop looking at his eyes. He was hurting her now. He had a grip on her that made the breath swish up past her lips, forced her head back. And she was gasping. But her eyes were open. She couldn’t stop looking at his eyes. Then her mouth was open very wide, and her teeth quivered and her entire body quivered, because she was getting it with more force and with more throb than she had ever gotten it before. Her eyes were closed. Her teeth were locked. A thin whistle stretched out as she breathed in. Then she started to moan. And within the moaning, she smiled. Now she had someone who gave it like a beast.