William Vollmann - Whores for Gloria

You want some company? Cynthia said.

His eyes went up the long sweep of Cynthia's legs, Cynthia so cool with a never to be lit cigarette in her hand, Cynthia tapping her shoes on the concrete, one fist on hip, the other firm against her shoulder as she leaned staring into his eyes with a fierceness that might have been predatory were the message not feed on me . . eat me . . and her gaze was not even fierce, really, but simply very serious because Cynthia was working and that was how she showed it. Then he thought to himself this is the one.

Yes said Jimmy I want you to fuck me with this wig on and hair all around your face like the rays of the sun and keep calling me your husband.

Whatever you say, laughed Cynthia. But you gotta pay me sixty right now.

Sixty bucks is too much, Jimmy said. I'm not asking to fuck you up the ass or anything.

All right, fifty then. I'm really good, said Cynthia. I run circles round them all. And you don't have to use a rubber or nothing. Now let's have the money. I be tired of playing around.

OK, Jimmy said.

Gimme gimme. Oh you husband.

Jimmy got it out of the lining of his coat, counting out the tens by feel, and passed it to her.

Now gimme the wig, Cynthia ordered.

When she had Gloria's crown of office in her hand, she started laughing and laughing cruelly. — Is this what she looks like? she screamed, puffing her lips out and smushing her mouth up against her nose, so that her nose and cheeks got fatter and her black eyeballs sparkled. Thunderstruck, Jimmy gaped at her; then he tried to snatch at the wig, but Cynthia leaped back and began to run down the street. Just before she vanished from his life for ever, he saw her throw the wig down into a sewer.

Budweiser

When Jimmy understood what had happened, the world seemed filled with sickness like liquid, churning him around in its acid waves, stinking in his nose and mouth, and he had to lie down on the sidewalk to stop it and felt better for a minute, but then he began to feel a hard remorseless oval in his belly, weighing down his guts as if he had swallowed a big lead sinker; this commenced to get burning hot so that he cried out and doubled his body tight, trying to squeeze that red-hot ball back into something soft and harmless, but he could not, and presently began to vomit very painfully on the sidewalk.

Home again

My god Jimmy cried Pearl what happened to you should I take you to a doctor?

Jimmy said hello Pearl here's my rent.

Cynthia started whoring when a friend said hey you're getting on your back for free you might as well make some MONEY at it! — The best thing that ever happened to her was when she got picked up by an army guy who had something wrong in the head. He gave her a bunch of fifty-dollar bills and said how much does it add up to? and Cynthia counted it and found that it came to a thousand dollars. The army guy said baby you just do whatever you feel like doing. She only had to stay with him a couple of hours. She spent it all on drugs.

Cynthia's man was in the pen. He'd be out in 1992. Until then, she wouldn't be kissing nobody . Whatever she did she had to do, but she was saving her kisses for him.

Pal you look very emancipated, said Code Six, meaning emaciated, and Jimmy said yes I am emancipated from my fatty flesh and Code Six shouted stop talking like a fucking fag! now get off your Gloria kick and eat right and Jimmy said look who's talking and Code Six said so I don't practice what I preach but that's no reason for you to cave in like me Jimmy boy you been the smart one you save your SSI checks so you always got a hotel room to stay in now don't end up like me stinking and puking in the alley I feel bad I ever encouraged you in this Gloria business because look what it's doing to you and Jimmy said Code Six we go back a long way but if you want to keep me as a friend don't try to break me up with Gloria ever again do you hear what I'm saying? and Code Sue said that's how it is huh and Jimmy said yes and Code Six said hell James you know I didn't mean nothing.

Home again

Hello, Pearl, Jimmy said.

Pearl raised her upper lip and put lipstick on it. I've had it with you, she said. You never make any effort with me. Don't think I'm gonna give you any more breaks around here. Just pay your fucking rent.

After Code Six had failed in his mission of persuading Jimmy to return to the paths of full-cocked righteousness, he ambled slowly home to Sixth Street. He did not like the Tenderloin because it was not his area. Bad things could happen to him here. Back home he could take care of himself. He crossed Market Street whisding sadly. For a week or so he'd been wearing a black eye. He didn't even remember who'd punched him. He now wandered in search of a pleasant corner, shrugging shamefaced as he looked people in the face who avoided looking back because he was Code Six whose greasy hair fell across the bridge of his nose, borne down by the weight of the filth it carried, Code Six with his stubbled wobbly chin that could still look pugnacious when he threw his head way, way back, Code Six with his great hairy jelly-belly that hung over his belt absorbing sunlight on this mild morning as Code Six took off his shirt and began to beat it like a carpet against the steel shutters of a hardware store— whooh , you stink! he shouted crossly at the shirt, at himself, and then he started laughing because no one would look him in the eye. None of you stink as much as me! he shouted proudly. You can shit your pants all day and you still wouldn't bear a candle to me! Haw! Keep the flag flying high, streaming and flapping like thunder!

Viet Cong

Later, when he'd panhandled two dollars and was bombing along on the Night Train with such power and speed that the sidewalk was a blur beneath his tightrope feet so agilely lurching, he saw three Indochinese children sitting on the steps of a hotel, holding bundles of some grasslike herb in their hands. Each was chewing on one of the stalks, looking at him alertly. The little girl's blue-black hair was drawn back from her forehead by a headband. She sucked and sucked on her stalk, wrinkling her forehead. Her brothers stared at him unwinkingly.

Code Six cleared his throat. You know, I once killed slopes, he said haltingly. I was ordered to. But it made me feel real sorry.

The children looked at him. He ducked his head and hurried away.

As soon as he was around the corner he began punching himself. — Am I out of my fucking mind to be talking to SLANTS? he shouted into a Vietnamese market. Nobody looked at him. — Was I talking bullshit or batshit or dogshit or was it just ratshit? he said. Jeez oh jeez Jesus. I better stop hanging around James. He's wearing off on me. Goddamn.

Shit, he sighed. Every last one of us betrayed by the VC. Jimmy brainwashed, the Wrecking Crew all dropped dead, Riley God knows where, and me left to fend for myself here in the middle of motherfucking Hanoi, USA. Nothing to do, nothing to do. Wanna kill those Chinese Charlies! Come out and fight! he shouted.

Nobody came.

Guess I won that one, said Code Six, and he lay down on the sidewalk and went to sleep. .

It was another early morning afternoon at the Black Rose for Jimmy, when everything seemed quieter and slower— even the lights around the mirrors seemed to be blinking more slowly — and a slow snowstorm went on inside the popcorn machine, with a rich smell of butter blowing across the bar in hot and oily waves, and two men sat at the end of the bar with their caps pulled down and an old man sat halfway to the bathroom with his head in his hands and a Budweiser in front of him, and Jimmy ordered a Budweiser and stared down at the old popcorn and dead beer bottles on the bar, and there were crumpled napkins with lipstick on them in the ashtrays and Jimmy's beer tasted like rotten hay.