Charles Bukowski - Women

"We'll get you some beer. My name's Tammie."

"It's after 2 am."

"We'll get some beer. Cleavage can work wonders."

They arrived in 20 minutes with the cleavage but without the beer.

"That son-of-a-bitch," said Arlene. "He always gave it to us before. This time he seemed scared."

"Fuck him," said Tammie.

They both sat down and announced their ages.

"I'm 32," said Arlene.

"I'm 23," said Tammie.

"Add your ages together," I said, "and you've got me."

Arlene's hair was long and black. She sat in the chair by the window combing her hair, making up her face, looking into a large silver mirror, and talking. She was obviously high on pills. Tammie had a near-perfect body and long natural red hair. She was on pills too, but wasn't as high.

"It will cost you $100 for a piece of ass," Tammie told me.

"I'll pass."

Tammie was hard like so many women in their early twenties. Her face was shark-like. I disliked her, right off.

They left around 3:30 am and I went to bed alone.

Two mornings later, at 4 am, somebody beat on the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's a redheaded floozie."

I let Tammie in. She sat down and I opened a couple of beers.

"I've got bad breath, I have these two bad teeth. You can't kiss me."

"All right."

We talked. Well, I listened. Tammie was on speed. I listened and looked at her long red hair and when she was preoccupied I looked and looked at that body. It was bursting out of her clothing, begging to get out. She talked on and on. I didn't touch her.

At 6 am Tammie gave me her address and phone number.

"I've got to go," she said.

"I'll walk you to your car."

It was a bright red Camaro, completely wrecked. The front was smashed in, one side was ripped open and the windows were gone. Inside were rags and shirts and Kleenex boxes and newspapers and milk cartons and Coke bottles and wire and rope and paper napkins and magazines and paper cups and shoes and bent colored drinking straws. This mass of stuff was piled above seat level and covered the seats. Only the driver's area had a little clear space.

Tammie stuck her head out the window and we kissed.

Then she tore away from the curb and by the time she reached the corner she was doing 45. She did hit the brakes and the Camaro bobbed up and down, up and down. I walked back inside.

I went to bed and thought about her hair. I'd never known a real redhead. It was fire.

Like lightning from heaven, I thought.

Somehow her face didn't seem to be as hard anymore…

I phoned her. It was 1 am. I went over.

Tammie lived in a small bungalow behind a house.

She let me in.

"Be quiet. Don't wake Dancy. She's my daughter. She's 6 years old and she's asleep in the bedroom."

I had a 6-pack of beer. Tammie put it in the refrigerator and came out with two bottles.

"My daughter mustn't see anything. I still have the two bad teeth which makes my breath bad. We can't kiss."

"All right."

The bedroom door was closed.

"Look," she said, "I've got to take some vitamin B. And I'm going to have to pull my pants down and stab myself in the ass. Look the other way."

"All right."

I watched her draw liquid into the syringe. I looked the other way.

"I've got to get it all," she said.

When it was done she turned on a small red radio.

"Nice place you got here."

"I'm a month behind on the rent."

"Oh…"

"It's all right. The landlord-he lives in the place up front-I can hold him off."

"Good."

"He's married, the old fuck. And guess what?"

"I can't."

"The other day his wife was gone somewhere and the old fuck asked me to come over. I went over and sat down and guess what?"

"He pulled it out."

"No, he put on dirty movies. He thought that shit would turn me on."

"It didn't?"

"I said, 'Mr. Miller, I have to leave now. I have to pick Dancy up at school.'"

Tammie gave me an upper. We talked and talked. And drank beer.

At 6 am Tammie opened the couch we had been sitting on. There was a blanket. We took off our shoes and climbed under the blanket with our clothes on. I held her from the back, my face in all that red hair. I got hard. I dug it into her from behind, through her clothing. I heard her fingers clawing and digging into the edge of the couch.

"I've got to go," I told Tammie.

"Listen, all I've got to do is to make Dancy some breakfast and drive her to school. It's O.K. if she sees you. Just wait here until I get back."

"I'm going," I said.

I drove home, drunk. The sun was really up, painful and yellow…

I had been sleeping on a terrible mattress with the springs sticking into me for several years. That afternoon when I awakened I pulled the mattress off the bed, dragged it outside, and leaned it against the trashbin.

I walked back in and left the door open.

It was 2 pm and hot.

Tammie walked in and sat on the couch.

"I've got to go," I told her. "I've got to go buy a mattress."

"A mattress? Well, I'll leave."

"No, Tammie, wait. Please. The whole thing will take about 15 minutes. Wait here and have a beer."

"All right," she said…

There was a rebuilt mattress shop about three blocks down on Western. I parked in front and ran through the door. "Fellows! I need a mattress… FAST!"

"What kind of bed?"

"Double."

"We've got this one for $35."

"I'll take it."

"Can you take it in your car?"

"I've got a Volks."

"All right, we'll deliver it. Address?"

Tammie was still there when I got back.

"Where's the mattress?"

"It'll be along. Have another beer. You got a pill?"

She gave me a pill. The light shot through her red hair.

Tammie had been voted Miss Sunny Bunny at the Orange County Fair in 1973. It was four years later now, but she still had it. She was big and ripe in all the right places.

The delivery man was at the door with the mattress.

"Let me help you."

The delivery man was a good soul. He helped me put it on the bed. Then he saw Tammie sitting on the couch. He grinned. "Hi," he said to her.

"Thanks very much," I told him. I gave him 3 dollars and he left.

I went into the bedroom and looked at the mattress. Tammie followed. The mattress was wrapped in cellophane. I began ripping it off. Tammie helped.

"Look at it. It's pretty," she said.

"Yes, it is."

It was bright and colorful. Roses, stems, leaves, curling vines. It looked like the Garden of Eden, and for $35.

Tammie looked at it. "That mattress turns me on. I want to break it in. I want to be the first woman to fuck you on that mattress."

"I wonder who will be the second?"

Tammie walked into the bathroom. There was a silence. Then I heard the shower. I put on fresh sheets and pillow cases, undressed and climbed in. Tammie came out, young and wet, she sparkled. Her pubic hair was the same color as the hair on her head: red, like fire.

She paused before the mirror and pulled in her stomach. Those huge breasts rose toward the glass. I could see her, back and front, simultaneously.

She walked over and climbed under the sheet.

We slowly worked into it.

We got into it, all that red hair on the pillow, as outside the sirens howled and the dogs barked.

Tammie came by that night. She appeared to be high on uppers.

"I want some champagne," she said.

"All right," I said.

I handed her a twenty.

"Be right back," she said, walking out the door.

Then the phone rang. It was Lydia. "I just wondered how you were doing…"

"Things are all right."

"Not here. I'm pregnant."