Jane Bowles - My Sister's Hand in Mine - The Collected Works of Jane Bowles

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Janes Bowles has for many years had an underground reputation as one of the truly original writers of the twentieth century. This collection of expertly crafted short fiction will fully acquaint all students and scholars with the author Tennessee Williams called "the most important writer of prose fiction in modern American letters."

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“A gentleman,” he said, “always knows how to make fun. I am one of the richest businessmen in this country. I am also the craziest. Like an American. When I am out I always have a wonderful time, and so does everyone who is with me, because they know that while I am around there is always plenty. Plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and plenty of beautiful women to make love to. Once you have been out with me,” he pointed his finger at Julia and Inez, “any other man will seem to you like an old-lady schoolteacher.”

He turned to Alfredo. “Tell me, my friend, have you not had the time of your life with me?”

“Yes, I have,” said Alfredo. He was thinking very noticeably of other things.

“His mind is always on business,” Señor Ramirez explained to Julia. “He is also very clever. I have gotten him this job with a German concern. They are manufacturing planes.” Alfredo said something to Señor Ramirez in German, and they spoke no longer on the subject. They spread out their picnic lunch and sat down to eat.

Señor Ramirez insisted on feeding Julia with his own fingers. This rather vexed Inez, so she devoted herself to eating copiously. Señor Ramirez drank quantities of whiskey out of a tin folding cup. At the end of fifteen or twenty minutes he was already quite drunk.

“Now, isn’t it wonderful to be all together like this, friends? Alfredo, aren’t these two women the finest, sweetest women in the world? I do not understand why in the eyes of God they should be condemned to the fires of hell for what they are. Do you?”

Julia moaned and rose to her feet.

“No, no!” she said, looking up helplessly at the branches overhead.

“Come on,” said Señor Ramirez. “We’re not going to worry about this today, are we?” He took hold of her wrist and pulled her down to the ground beside him. Julia hid her face in her hands and leaned her head against his shoulder. Soon she was smiling up at him and stroking his face.

“You won’t leave me alone?” she asked, laughing a little in an effort to bring him to terms with her. If anyone were to be pitted successfully against the Divine, she thought, it would certainly be someone like Señor Ramirez. The presence of such men is often enough to dispel fear from the hearts of certain people for whom God is more of an enemy than a friend. Señor Ramirez’s principal struggle in life was one of pride rather than of conscience; and because his successes were numerous each day, replenishing his energy and his taste for life, his strength was easily felt by those around him. Now that he was near her, Julia felt that she was safe from hell, and she was quite happy even though her side still hurt her very badly.

“Now,” said Inez, “I think that we should all play a game, to chase gloomy thoughts out of this girl’s head.”

She rose to her feet and snatched Señor Ramirez’s hat from where it lay beside him on the ground, placing it a few feet away upside down on the grass. Then she gathered some acorns in the picnic basket.

“Now,” she said. “We will see who can throw these acorns into the hat. He will win.”

“I think,” said Señor Ramirez, “that the two women should be naked while we are playing this; otherwise it will be just a foolish children’s game.”

“And we are not children at all,” said Inez, winking at him. The two women turned and looked at Alfredo questioningly.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” said Señor Ramirez. “He sees nothing but numbers in his head.”

The two girls went behind some bushes and undressed. When they returned, Alfredo was bending over a ledger and trying to explain something to Señor Ramirez, who looked up, delighted that they had returned so quickly, so that he would not be obliged to listen.

“Ah,” he said. “Now this looks much more like friends together, doesn’t it, Alfredo?”

“Come on,” said Inez. “We will all get into line here with this basket and each one will try to throw the acorn into the hat.”

Señor Ramirez grew quite excited playing the game; then he began to get angry because he never managed to get the acorn into the hat. Inez screeched with laughter and threw her acorn wider and wider of the mark, each time purposely, in order to soothe, if possible, the hurt pride of Señor Ramirez. Alfredo refused to play at all.

“Games don’t interest me,” said Señor Ramirez suddenly. “I’d like to play longer with you, daughters, but I can’t honestly keep my mind on the game.”

“It is of no importance at all, really,” said Inez, busily trying to think up something to do next.

“How are your wife and children?” Julia asked him.

Inez bit her lip and shook her head.

“They are well taken care of. I have sent them to a little town where they are staying in a pension. Quiet women — all three of them — the little girls and the mother. I am going to sleep.” He stretched out under a tree and put his hat over his face. Alfredo was absorbed in his ledger. Inez and Julia sat side by side and waited.

“You have the brain of a baby chicken,” Inez said to Julia. “I must think for both of us. If I had not had a great deal of practice when I had to keep count of all the hundreds of tortillas that I sold for my mother, I don’t know where we would be.”

“Dead, probably,” said Julia. They began to feel cold.

“Come,” said Inez. “Sing with me.” They sang a song about leaving and never returning, four or five times through. When Señor Ramirez awakened he suggested to Julia that they go for a walk. She accepted sweetly, and so they started off through the woods. Soon they reached a good-sized field where Señor Ramirez suggested that they sit for a while.

“The first time I went to bed with a woman,” he said, “it was in the country like this. The land belonged to my father. Three or four times a day we would come out into the fields and make love. She loved it, and would have come more often if I had asked her to. Some years later I went to her wedding and I had a terrible fight there. I don’t even remember who the man was, but in the end he was badly hurt. I can tell you that.”

“If you put your arms around me,” said Julia, “I will feel less cold. You don’t mind my asking you to do this, but I love you very much and I feel very contented with you.”

“That’s good,” said Señor Ramirez, looking off at the mountains and shielding his eyes from the sun. He was listening to the sound of the waterfall, which was louder here. Julia was laughing and touching various parts of his body.

“Ah,” she said. “I don’t mind my side hurting me so badly if I can only be happy the way I am now with you. You are so sweet and so wonderful.”

He gave her a quick loud kiss on the mouth and rose to his feet.

“Listen,” he said. “Wouldn’t you like to come into the water with me?”

“I am too sick a woman to go into the water, and I am a little bit afraid.”

“In my arms you don’t have to be afraid. I will carry you. The current would be too strong for you to manage anyway.” Señor Ramirez was now as gay as a lark, although he had been bored but a moment before. He liked nothing better than performing little feats that were assured of success from the beginning. He carried her down to the river, singing at the top of his voice.

The noise of the falls was very loud here, and Julia clung tightly to her escort.

“Don’t let go, now,” she said. But her voice seemed to fly away behind her like a ribbon caught in the wind. They were in the water and Señor Ramirez began to walk in the direction of the falls.

“I will hold tight, all right,” he said. “Because the water runs pretty swiftly near the falls.” He seemed to enjoy stepping precariously from one stone to another with Julia in his arms.

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