Stanley Elkin - A Bad Man

“Well, just tell me what it is. If it sounds worthwhile—”

“You’d do it?”

“Well, if I thought it was okay—”

“All right,” Feldman said. “You’ve got to go to Cleveland. You wear disguises.”

“What?”

“You wear disguises in Cleveland. I’ll send you to a place where they rent costumes.”

“Jesus.”

“You stay in a hotel, and every day you put on a different costume: fireman, baseball player, intern — that sort of thing.”

“Well, what’s so hot about that?”

“Sure. Forget it.”

“Well, what’s so hot about it?”

“Have you tried it?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then how do you know? Habit — everything’s habit. Tell me, what do you do when you hear a funny story?”

“Well, I laugh.”

“Exactly. That’s what I mean . Why not hold your right arm up instead? Look, do me a favor. Go to Cleveland. See what you think.”

He went, and a week later Feldman got a postcard saying it was the best seven hundred dollars he’d ever spent and that next year the man thought he would try it in Worcester, Mass.

Now things ran smoothly. Each day brought new challenges, and he derived a certain joy from the balanced schizophrenic nature of his store: the aboveboard floors, with their conventional commerce, and the queer open secret of his basement. He was even able to take more interest in the main store, discovering, now that he could again pay attention to it, that in the last months it had prospered. He reconsidered his plans for building a suburban branch, and while he had not actually made his mind up to go ahead with the project, he deemed it a serious future possibility. Though he still believed in the lean years to come, he wondered whether he might not have exaggerated their imminence.

At home his relations with his family had entered a new phase. He neither tormented Lilly nor avoided her with his neutrality. Billy, who was out of school for the summer, was by the grace of his vacation able to obscure some of his intellectual clumsiness. Lean years would come for Billy, Feldman knew, but for now he was perfectly willing to pretend that there was not much wrong with his son. Though everyday he pursued Billy with questions about why he was the last kid chosen for a team, sometimes he allowed a tone of joking to give a good-natured dimension to his scorn.

It was against this background that he found himself one night on Lilly’s side of the bed. They had been watching television together, and Feldman, who always determined which programs they would watch, permitted her a movie. The grateful Lilly couldn’t do enough for him.

“Play with my back,” he murmured. He lay on his side and pulled his pajama tops up around his shoulders. “Use your other hand,” he said. “I feel your callus.” It was pleasant to lie there in the dark with his eyes closed, listening to the movie. “Lower,” he said, “a little lower. Yes. There.” Lilly didn’t have any idea when she had overworked an area. “Keep moving around,” he told her. “Try to remember where you’ve been. That’s it.” For a few minutes it was much better, but every so often she would become engrossed in the movie. Then her hand would falter and stop, and he would have to shake his shoulders to get her attention again. During commercials, however, the hand came alive by itself and fluttered hither and yon with an almost geisha attention. During the next commercial Feldman removed his bottoms, and even after the movie came on Lilly’s fingers still moved expertly.

“I’m going to turn the set off, Leo,” she said in a few minutes. In the dark she groped her way back to the bed. “Play with the backs of my legs,” he said. “Play with my kneecaps. Play with the nape of my neck.”

She reached across his body and drew her fingers up his thighs. “Let’s make love,” she whispered.

“No. Play with my back again.”

“Please, Leo.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll make you. Shall I try to make you, Leo?”

“All right,” he said, “try to make me.” He lay on his back, and she took his penis in her left hand. The callus irritated him. She rubbed him this way for a few minutes and then began to thrash about against him.

She put her breast on his nose. “Do you have a hard-on, Leo?” she asked sweetly.

“I have a soft-off.”

She put her hand back on his penis. “Take my ear in your mouth,” he said. She took his ear in her mouth. “Don’t suck it, for Christ’s sake — you’ll break the eardrum.” She became gentler.

“Can you now, Leo?” she asked in a little while. “Will you try?”

“All right,” he said, “I’ll try.” He rolled on top of her. “It doesn’t fit.”

“Here,” she said.

“I’m not in.”

“Sure you are.”

He moved back and forth a few times. “I’m slipping out.”

“Ahh. Ahh. Oh, Leo.”

“You’re too dry.”

“ Ahhgghhrr ,” she shuddered.

“Play with my back,” he said.

“Leo, come back. Leo? All right,” she said, “I know. Let’s stand up.” They stood up.

“Stop. You’re breaking it off.”

“Let’s sit on the side of the bed.”

“No. The color television.”

“Leo, we’ll break it — and the tubes get too hot. Let’s stand on the dresser.”

“Let’s sit in the chest of drawers.”

“Leo, what are you doing?”

“Where’s the air-conditioning vent?”

“The air-conditioning vent?”

“Where is it?”

“There, on the floor. Near the chair. What are you doing?”

“I’m sitting down. Ohh,” he said. “Oh boy, Arghhrr .”

“Let me try.”

“Wait till I’m through. Ahhghh . Wow.”

“Leo, you’ll catch cold. Nothing’s worse than a summer cold. Leo?”

“Oh boy.”

“Leo, please, let’s get in bed.” She pulled him up and they got into bed. Feldman turned onto his stomach. “Leo,” she said after playing with his back for a few minutes, “try to catch me.”

“All right.”

“Close your eyes.” He heard her get out of the bed. “Count to fifty.”

“All right.”

“Don’t start counting until I tell you.” Her voice came from across the room; she was sitting on the air conditioning. “You can start counting now, Leo. Leo? Are you counting?”

“What?”

“Are you counting?”

“You woke me up.”

“Oh, Leo!”

She got back into bed. “You’re hard now, Leo. Come in me.”

“All right.”

“Oh, Leo, you’re so hard now.”

“I have to pee.”

“Oh, Leo. Oh. Oh. Oh, that’s wonderful, Leo. Oh.”

“Where’s the Kleenex?”

“Oh. Oh.”

“There’s only three left. How can you let the Kleenex get so low?”

“Oh, I love you, Leo. I love you.”

“All right.”

“I did something, Leo. It’s the first time. It was wonderful.”

“Been quite a night for you. First your own program on the TV and now this.”

“You do something too, Leo. You do something now too.”

He flipped out of her and rolled off. “Can’t cut the mustard,” he said philosophically, putting his hands behind his head.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Lilly said. “It’s been wonderful these last months. You’ve been marvelous to us. To Billy and me. So relaxed.”

“Yes.”

“Things must be going well at the store.”

“Very nicely.”

“See? It doesn’t do any good to worry.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Leo?”

“Yes?”

“Did you know that I’ve been worried lately?”

“No. I didn’t know that.”

“I tried not to show it.”

“Well, it worked.”