Gilbert Sorrentino - Aberration of Starlight

They had turned around and started back, no need for the citronella this evening, and he and Helga as natural as you please and without any self-consciousness, put their arms around each other as they walked, nice and slow through the cool darkness and the sound of crickets — there must have been thousands of them! Her heavy solid hip and thigh brushed his leg as they walked, poor man, the worried look on his face made her worry, and she would get down on her hands and knees again this night and pray for him too and for that poor fatherless boy. They discreetly removed their arms from each other’s waists as they neared the house, Christ, no sense in giving that old woman Ralph Sapurty and his old woman of a wife anything to gossip about, and as they got closer Helga said that it was none of her business and as he knew after all these years she was not a busybody with a long nose prying into private things, but she thought he should really put his foot down, a man like him, with an important job and in the prime of life, he shouldn’t be aggravated by a grown-up daughter, but it was only a suggestion. But it was time to let Marie know who was the boss and tell her to stop giving him a headache. Ja? Excuse my butting in. And John agreed and agreed again, what a wonderful lady! And as they turned in at the gate he took her hand for just a second and squeezed it and Helga turned to him and smiled, her gold tooth shining.

Billy was asleep when he entered their room and he undressed and put on his pajamas in the dark, then reached under the bed and got his bottle of Wilson’s, took a long drink and then another, might as well be a little pie-eyed as the way I am. He lay down and thought of Helga. It was terribly disturbing to feel this excited, Jesus Christ, he was an old man, probably, if truth were known, in his dotage! But he couldn’t deny that he’d wanted to put his hands over her breasts out there in the dark, well, hell, he had a good job and enough money salted away for the two of them, why should he worry about this goddamn ungrateful snip of a daughter, mooning around all day long to make you sick. She’d see how it was without her fall guy of a father to support her and her spoiled-rotten son, see how fast Casanova would run when he saw the handwriting on the wall, ha. John dozed on and off, then took his watch to the window and saw that it was — what? ten after one in the morning! My God! The tramp! She knows goddamn good and well I expected her home by twelve, defying me! We’ll see, we’ll goddamn well see about it! He tried not to think of his feelings on the road with Helga because if that’s how he —then what was going on with that little skirt-crazy bastard with Marie? Oh God in heaven, they were at it like two dogs in the alley in that car of his somewhere — he wouldn’t put it past him to put something in her drink, oh hell, yes, he’d heard of it, hadn’t his brother told him about girls, sweet and clean girls that had been given things in a cup of tea for Christ sake, and done things you couldn’t even imagine? Was he to be made a complete horse’s ass of?

He slipped out of the room and climbed the stairs to Marie’s room, why? Hell, how in the name of God did he know why? He closed the door and shone his flashlight around, a slip on the bed, a pair of stockings in a tangle next to it, and there was, what the hell was it? Ah, yes. John put the flashlight down and opened the other bag that Marie had brought back from town — my God! A bathing suit, bejesus, that would show enough of her to get her arrested for indecent exposure. Oh my God, it had all gone far enough, too goddamn far. And this is what the little floozie thinks she’s going to wear in public, with her behind sticking out of it like some slut in the Police Gazette, to go bathing with her little dirty-minded Romeo? By God, they’d have to carry him out in his coffin first! He put the bathing suit back in its bag, thinking of Marie in a car, her clothes all up and that mutt bastard — he heard a car then and quickly left the room, went down the stairs, and back into his room. There they were, and it one-thirty in the morning! The nerve, the nerve of them! He opened the window screen and leaned out, shining his flash across the road, oh, he was yelling, you’re goddamn tootin he was yelling, and he didn’t give a damn what they thought of it or what anybody the hell else thought of it either. He heard Billy call him and he turned toward him and told him to shut up, then shone the light down at the car again. A goddamn old fool, that’s what they took him for? Well, we’ll see who’s the fool! He saw Marie get out and start quickly toward the porch, not looking up at the window. And there were some people up in the house, what in the hell did John care? They want an eyeful, they’ll get one! Let’s see how this little mongrel feels tomorrow showing his face to decent people. Marie thought she’d go out and do God knows what and then waltz in almost at dawn without so much as a by-your-leave? She had another think coming! He heard her pass the door and continue up to her room, crying she was, well let her. And tomorrow she could put that bimbo bathing suit in a drawer and forget about it. He was putting his foot down tomorrow, and if she didn’t like it, well, she could lump it. If she didn’t like what he had to say she could go back to the steam table, live on the street for all he cared. He’d get along, he was no cripple! He’d had enough of goddamn women to last him forever anyway. He saw a match flicker in the front seat of Tom’s car, ha, there you are! The great lover and gent is so worried sick that he’s having himself a lovely little smoke, just as if nothing had happened. Well, he’ll have to see somebody else’s behind in a slut bathing suit! Not an ounce of respect. And no respect from her and that boy either. After I’ve worked my fingers to the bone for both of them, and for her bitch of a mother too, God forgive me. He latched the screen and stood staring out at the soft white mass of the old church.

Everybody but Marie and John and Helga had gone to the first day of the Grange Hall Fair that afternoon and John was sitting on the porch alone while Helga talked German in the kitchen with Frieda. He felt good, satisfied. Helga and he had talked about how wise it had been of him to finally put his foot down on all the shenanigans with Thebus. Just before she’d left the porch she told him that he had done a great favor for his daughter, that she was sure to see someday how right he was, even though now she thought it was terrible of him. He was her father and everybody only has one father and she would forgive him and even thank him someday. This was the kind of thing she needed to give her some gumption and let her stand on her own two feet because it was a good experience and she’d learn from it what two-bit, is that how you say it? sports there are in this world. And it was time, well past time, that a woman her age stood on her own two feet and not expect her father to do everything for her.

Marie was remote and almost totally silent, still shocked and hurt and angry about him finding that trashy bathing suit, but she’d get over it, she’d better damn well get over it. John didn’t really care a good goddamn now if she wore it or not with the assless wonder of the world gone. It wasn’t very modest, but who was to see her? They only had a week or so left anyway here, then all the foolishness would be over and done with and Marie could come down from her high horse. She had never listened to him about anything, took after Bridget, stubborn as a mule! But by God she’d do what he told her about this. That goddamn little mutt with his business in the city! That was a good one, him running with his tail between his legs just like a cur. He hoped that Marie got a good eyeful of that. That cock-and-bull story wouldn’t have fooled a six-year-old. Helga had put it right when she said that he’d run away when he knew he couldn’t strut his stuff anymore. Now maybe Marie would realize that she was a married woman and act it.