Charles Bukowski - Factotum

"Listen, you're not some kind of nut, are you? There's one guy been bothering the girls, he picks them up, then takes them to his place, strips them down and cuts crossword puzzles into their bodies with a pen knife."

"I'm not him."

"Then there are guys who fuck you and then chop you up into little pieces. They find part of your asshole stuffed up a drainpipe in Playa Del Rey and your left tit in a trashcan down at Oceanside…"

"I stopped doing that years ago. Lift your skirt higher."

She hiked her skirt higher. It was like the beginning of life and laughter, it was the real meaning of the sun. I walked over, sat on the couch next to her and kissed her. Then I got up, poured two more drinks and tuned the radio in to KFAC. We caught the beginning of something by Debussy.

"You like that kind of music?" she asked.

Some time during the night as we were talking I fell off the couch. I lay on the floor and looked up those beautiful legs. "Baby," I said, "I'm a genius but nobody knows it but me."

She looked down at me. "Get up off the floor you damn fool and get me a drink."

I brought her drink and curled up next to her. I did feel foolish. Later we got into bed. The lights were off and I got on top of her. I stroked once or twice, stopped. "What's your name, anyhow?"

"What the hell difference does it make?" she answered.

Her name was Laura. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon and I walked along the path behind the furniture shop on Alvarado Street. I had my suitcase with me. There was a large white house back there, wooden, two stories, old, the white paint peeling. "Now stay back from the door," she said. "There's a mirror halfway up the stairs that allows him to see who's at the door."

Laura stood there ringing the bell while I hid to the right of the door. "Let him just see me, and when the buzzer sounds, I'll push the door open and you follow me in."

The buzzer rang and Laura pushed the door open. I followed her in, leaving my suitcase at the bottom of the stairs. Wilbur Oxnard stood at the top of the stairway and Laura ran up to him. Wilbur was an old guy, gray-haired, with one arm. "Baby, so _good_ to see you!" Wilbur put his one arm around Laura and kissed her. When they separated he saw me.

"Who's that guy?"

"Oh, Willie, I want you to meet a friend of mine."

"Hi," I said.

Wilbur didn't answer me. "Wilbur Oxnard, Henry Chinaski," Laura introduced us.

"Good to know you, Wilbur," I said.

Wilbur still didn't answer. Finally he said, "Well, come on up."

I followed Wilbur and Laura across the front room. There were coins all over the floor, nickels, dimes, quarters, halves. An electric organ sat in the very center of the room. I followed them into the kitchen where we sat down at the breakfast nook table. Laura introduced me to the two women who sat there. "Henry, this is Grace and this is Jerry. Girls, this is Henry Chinaski."

"Hello, there," said Grace.

"How are you doing?" asked Jerry.

"My pleasure, ladies."

They were drinking whiskey with beer chasers. A bowl was in the center of the table filled with black and green olives, chili peppers, and celery hearts. I reached out and got a chili pepper. "Help yourself," Wilbur said, waving toward the whiskey bottle. He'd already put a beer down in front of me. I poured a drink.

"What do you do?" asked Wilbur.

"He's a writer," said Laura. "He's been printed in the magazines."

"Are you a writer?" Wilbur asked me.

"Sometimes."

"I need a writer. Are you a good one?"

"Every writer thinks he's a good one."

"I need somebody to do the libretto for an opera I've written. It's called 'The Emperor of San Francisco.' Did you know there was once a guy who wanted to be the Emperor of San Francisco?"

"No, no, I didn't."

"It's very interesting. I'll give you a book on it."

"All right."

We sat quietly a while, drinking. All the girls were in their mid-thirties, attractive and very sexy, and they knew it.

"How do you like the curtains?" he asked me. "The girls made these curtains for me. The girls have a lot of talent."

I looked at the curtains. They were sickening. Huge red strawberries all over them, surrounded by dripping stems.

"I like the curtains," I told him.

Wilbur got out some more beer and we all had more drinks from the whiskey bottle. "Don't worry," said Wilbur, "there's another bottle when this one's gone."

"Thanks, Wilbur."

He looked at me. "My arm's getting stiff." He lifted his arm and moved his fingers. "I can hardly move my fingers, I think I'm going to die. The doctors can't figure out what's wrong. The girls think I'm kidding, the girls laugh at me."

"I don't think you're kidding," I told him, "I believe you."

We had a couple of drinks more.

"I like you," said Wilbur, "you look like you've been around, you look like you've got class. Most people don't have class. You've got class."

"I don't know anything about class," I said, "but I've been around."

"Let's go into the other room. I want to play you a few choruses from the opera."

"Fine," I said.

We opened a new fifth, got out some more beer, and went into the other room. "Don't you want me to make you some soup, Wilbur?" asked Grace.

"Who ever heard of eating soup at the organ?" he answered.

We all laughed. We all liked Wilbur.

"He throws money on the floor every time he gets drunk," Laura whispered to me. "He says nasty things to us and throws coins at us. He says it's what we're worth. He can get very nasty."

Wilbur got up, went to his bedroom, came out wearing a sailing cap, and sat back down at the organ. He began playing the organ with his one arm and his bad fingers. He played a very loud organ. We sat there drinking and listening to the organ. When he finished, I applauded.

Wilbur turned around on the stool. "The girls were up here the other night," he said, "and then somebody hollered 'RAID!' You should have seen them running, some of them naked, some of them in panties and bras, they all ran out and hid in the garage. It was funny as hell. I sat up here and they came drifting back, one by one, from the garage. It was sure _funny!_"

"Who hollered 'RAID'?" I asked.

"I did," he said.

Then he stood up and walked into his bedroom and began undressing. I could see him sitting on the edge of his bed in his underwear. Laura walked in and sat on the bed with him and kissed him. Then she came out and Grace and Jerry went in. Laura motioned to the bottom of the stairway. I went down for my suitcase and brought it back up.

When we awakened, Laura told me about Wilbur. It was 9:30 a.m. and there wasn't a sound in the house. "He's a millionaire," she said, "don't let this old house fool you. His grandfather bought land all around here and his father did too. Grace is his girl but Grace gives him a rough time. And he's a tight son of a bitch. He likes to take care of the girls in the bars who have no place to sleep. But all he gives them is food and a bed, never any money. And they only get drinks when he's drinking. Jerry got to him one night, though. He was horny and chasing her around the table and she said, 'No, no no, not unless you give me fifty bucks a month for life!' He finally signed a piece of paper and do you know it held up in court? He has to pay her fifty bucks a month, and it's fixed so that when he dies his family will have to pay her."

"Good," I said.

"Grace is his main girl, though."

"How about you?"

"Not for a long time."

"That's good, because I like you."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Now, you watch. If he comes out this morning with his sailor cap on, that captain's cap, that means we're going out on the yacht. The doctor told him to get a yacht for his health."