Nobody will look twice at us, I'm pretty sure of that. A boy and a girl on a bike. A boy in regular jeans, and a tangled1 blonde in a bluebonnet-blue dress. No smells on us, just like TV. I have my pack with me, so it could even look like we're selling things. Selling things is a good excuse around here.
'Guess what?' yells Ella into my eardrum.
I stop by the side of the Johnson road to instruct her how to be a bicycle passenger without killing3 the driver. She lifts her dress to show me her clean white underwear. I only half pay attention, because it seems a troubled afternoon to me; gusts5 come threaded with thunder, and the horizon behind Keeter's is lit by a single strake of gold. Ella doesn't notice omens6, you can tell she's just getting a kick out of today. Probably because she's in a business adventure with me. Fucken Ella, I swear to God. We're going to split the booty, although she says she ain't in it for the money. That's how fucken weird7 she is.
I get some waves about it. For all I know, Deutschman could be trying to quit schoolgirls, he could be on the schoolgirl wagon8, taking one day at a time and all. And now - heeere's Ella. I make an effort to think more like my dad's videos. I mean, the client has an Unfulfilled Need, so - here's a Timely and Caring Service. What's more, part of our Extensive After-Sales Service is that nobody will ever know. It's a Market Gap, for chrissakes. But my conscience still calls me from Brooklyn. 'Nah, Boinie,' it says. 'Yez openin up a whole can a woims for da guy.' Then I think of Mom at home. Probably with the power off, probably getting laughed at, on account of her poverty, and her lack of fucken pizzazz. Localized smirking9 from douche-bag Leona. I'm committed.
The bike whirrs between flaky shacks11 and trailer-homes, down streets without edges, until the light almost disappears from the sky. We come to a cheap wooden house, of the kind you can build in a weekend, painted clean, though, with a neat little lawn, and tidy edges of bricks and gravel12. Ole Mr Deutschman's place. We crunch13 past a clay figure of a sleeping Mexican, and carefully lay the bike in the gravel beside the house. Mr Deutschman ain't expecting us. This is known as Cold Calling, in the trade. I take hold of Ella's shoulders to give her a final briefing.
'Ella, it's just look and touch, okay? Nothing heavy - okay? Call me if he goes too far.'
'Chill out, Bernie - I'm the one with the poles, remember?'
God she's fucken scary sometimes. The plan is for her to be shy and sweet, and leave the initiative to him. Like: yeah, right. I told her not to even open her mouth if she could help it, but that's asking a whole shitload from Ella, you know it.
She crunches14 around to Mr Deutschman's door while I crouch15 in the gravel, out of sight. I pretend to rummage16 in my backpack. A couple of fat raindrops smack17 me like birdshit. Typical fucken Crockett's. Then I hear the door open. Deutschman's voice warbles out.
'Who's this here?' he says, all kindly18 and ole. He has the voice quality of genuine oleness, like he swallowed a vibrator or something.
After I hear them go inside, I unload my pack and crunch around to the door, scanning the street for neighbors. There's nothing to see, except an ole parked Jeep, and not much to hear except wire twanging in a gust4. I try Deutschman's front door - it opens. I hold my breath until Ella's voice chimes out from deep in the house.
'Mama buys them because cotton's supposed to be - wow, your hands are cold . . .'
Game on. I close the door behind me, and creep into the living room. A new smell imprints19 on my brain; the smell of ole pickled dreams, like organs in a jar. Other people's house-smells hit you harder when you're not supposed to be there. I move down this narrow hallway toward Ella's voice, past the bathroom, where other industrial smells hang. Then a car turns onto the road outside. I dampen the sound of my heart with my hand until it hisses21 away up the street; the car that is, not my fucken heart. I shuffle22 forward again.
Deutschman and Ella are in the room at the end of the hallway. The door stands ajar. I flatten23 myself against the wall, and crane for a peek24 through the gap. Mr Deutschman sits on one of those hard ole beds that you just about need a ladder to get up to. The bedclothes are symmetrically draped under his symmetrical ass2, which makes a neat little crinkle on top. Next to the bed is a polished wooden table, where a lamp stands on a knitted doily. A wallet, a Bible, and a black-and-white picture in a heavy brass25 frame sit alongside. A friendly lady shines out of the picture, with clear, trusting eyes, and curly, woolen26 hair that blows alongside blossoms in a breeze. You can tell that breeze blew a long time ago. On the other side of the room is one small window that overlooks junk in the back yard, including a rusty27 kind of love-seat.
Ella stands at the end of the bed with her dress held under her chin. 'Ha! That tickles28 - wait up, you wanna see my south pole - or my north pole?'
She pulls her panties down to her knees; doesn't inch them down, sexily or anything, but fucken yanks them, smiling like you just found her in the Mini-Mart. See what I mean about Ella?
'My, what's this here?' Deutschman's fingertips tremble onto her bare ass, his breathing gets jerky.
I take a deep breath too. Then I jump in with Mom's Polaroid. Snap!
'The psycho!' says Deutschman. His lips seem to quiver in midair, then his head slumps29 onto his chest, with shame I guess.
'Mr Deutschman, it's okay,' I say. 'Mr Deutschman? We're not here to make any trouble, the young lady is here by choice, and I'm just here with her. You understand?'
He raises dull eyes at me, and swallows some silent words. Then he looks back at Ella. She cocks her head like a game-show hostess, and fixes him with a grin. God she's bent30, I swear.
'Mr Deutschman,' I say, 'I'm real sorry to barge31 in like this, I mean no disrespect. But, y'see, you and I have special needs, we can help each other out.' Deutschman hangs his mouth open, listens like a Texan. 'See the young lady here? I bet you'd like to spend some time with her. Your needs'll probably get well satisfied.' I copy the salesmen in Dad's videos, who always spread their hands out and chuckle32, like you must be the dumbest fuck in the world if you don't see how easy things are. 'A little cash is all we need, in return for everything. Your joining fee today could be three hundred dollars, for instance - one flat, easy payment - and I'll leave the two of you to hang out some more. I won't even come back at all. And Mr Deutschman, you can have this picture, and we'll never come by again, or say a word. That's our solemn promise to you, ain't it, Miss?'
Ella puts her hands on her hips33, grinning like a Mouseketeer, with her drawers around her knees. Deutschman stares at the floor awhile, then reaches for the wallet on his bedside table. He empties it of banknotes, and hands them to me without a word. A hundred and sixty dollars. My heart sinks.
'Sir, is this all you have? Just this money here?' I look down at him, all ole and shaken, and my heart sinks some more. I open out the wad of cash and peel a twenty off the top. 'Here, sir, we don't want to clean you out or anything.'
Some fucken criminal I make. He takes the note without even looking up. What suddenly stings me, though, is this: Ella's getting all the attention she craves34, and getting paid for it. Deutschman's using up some stale ole cash, and getting the kicks he probably dreamed about his whole adult life. My ole lady's getting peace of mind about my so-called job, and a new little income. And all I get is the privilege of juggling35 this big ole mess of lies and fucken slime. The thing has me so bummed36 I just want to get the fuck out.
'I'll leave you two alone now,' I say, turning to the door.
When I reach the door though, I hear Deutschman groan37 behind me. I spin around to see him sliding onto his feet. Ella's panties fly back up her legs.
'Don't stop,' says Lally from the window. He turns from the camera to call over his shoulder, 'Leona - come see what we got for the show!'
I grab Ella, her dress half-scrunched into her panties, and pull her out to the hallway, fumbling38 and dropping Mom's camera along the way. Deutschman clatters39 into the bathroom ahead of us, eyes and mouth jammed open. I flick40 the photograph to him through the door.
'Destroy it, sir, and whatever you do - don't talk to that guy.'
Floorboards bounce as we charge to the front door and out over the steps. We're met by raindrops flying sideways through the porchlight, weaving at us like angry sperm41. I yank Ella around the corner in a spray of gravel, to where my stuff is tucked in the shadows. And there stands Lally with his camera.
'Whoa, kids - wait up.'
I take Ella's shoulders and shove her away. She spins toward the road, one arm flailing42, the other still adjusting the ass of her panties through her dress. Lally swaggers over to my pack, planting himself between me and the bike. He gives his balls a luxurious43 grope.
'My but you're such a career man these days.'
A thousand cusses jump to mind, but none of them come out. Instead I fix his leer in my mind, lower my head, and launch myself into his guts44. 'Dhoof!' he flies back onto the bike, the camera spins through the air, then glances off his head with a crack.
'Sack of shit!' He unpeels his spine45 from the bike's frame and takes a swipe at my ankle. 'Wanna play in the real world, cock-sucker?' he snarls46.
I snatch up the camera and rip out the cartridge47. Then I take aim at him with my leg, and kick for all my life's worth. I connect hard, and he crashes back across the bike, dazed and bloody48, in a shower of gravel.
'Wow, Lalito,' calls Leona, still out of sight behind the house. 'Your star just saw a spider back here - is this how the job's supposed to be?'
I haul up my backpack and sprint49 onto the road. Ella breaks cover from behind the parked Jeep across the street, lunging for my free hand. I pull her head-first into the dusk and we steam down the road, hand-in-hand, chased by fast-moving clouds.
'Lalo,' says Leona behind us. 'Be honest, now - as a name, do you prefer Vanessa or Rebecca?'
Our heartbeats trail us along rows of warped50 shacks, past makeshift porches dangling51 yellow light, into creekbeds, over bluffs52; we suck air like jet-engines until we're spent. Lally will be back on the road by now, searching. Pissed as hell. And the law won't be far behind him. Feel the powerdime glow hot.
'Fuck,' puffs53 Ella when we finally stop.
I kneel next to her in the bushes behind her house. From here you can see down an overgrown alley54 that runs between her back fence and the shack10 next door. At the end of the alley, you can just make out the Johnson road. Keeter's, and the escarpment beyond, roll deep and black behind it. As my breath settles, I hear the first crickets, and the pulse of rustling55 grasses in the wind. Moist air from Ella's mouth strokes my face. I turn to look back through the bushes, where the outermost56 lights of Crockett's twinkle. In amongst the quiet you hear a soft bustle57 from town, then a car approaching. A learning comes over me gently, warm like a stroke. It is that I have seven fucken seconds to plan the rest of my life.
'Ell, I have to trust you with something important.'
'You can trust me, Bernie.'
'We got a hundred and forty dollars. That's seventy apiece.' I pull the cash from my pocket, and rifle through it for a ten-dollar bill. I stuff the ten into my pocket, passing the rest to Ella. 'Can you take sixty of this to Seventeen Beulah Drive? Can you do that for me? You'll have to tie up your hair, change your clothes, and sneak58 down there like a shadow. Can you do that?'
'Sure I can.' She nods like a little kid, you know how they nod too much. Then she stares at me through shining eyes. 'What're you gonna do?'
'I have to disappear awhile.'
'I'll come with you.'
'The hell you will. They'd catch us in a second.'
She presses her lips shut, and stares some more. I swear she's like your cat or something, how she just stares. A truck growls59 along the Johnson road. I tense until it passes. Ella just keeps staring. Then a door bangs in the middle distance, and a lady's voice screeches60 out.
'E-lla!'
Ella's face drops. I guess this was a real adventure we had just now; you can tell it broke the ice with Ella Bouchard. I squeeze her hand, for recent ole times' sake, and pick up my pack. 'If you see my ole lady, tell her I'm sorry, and I'll be in touch. Or, no, better - don't tell her anything, just slide the cash under the door. Okay?' I stretch out of the grass, but Ella's hand intercepts61 me at the leg. I look down at her face. It suddenly seems configured to make brave decisions in life, like willpower soaks through her pores or something. She leans up to my mouth and plants a clumsy kiss.
'I love you,' she whispers. 'Stay clear of Keeter's track, they's settin up that SWAT thing tonight.' She reaches for my hand and stuffs all her cash into it, all but my mom's sixty dollars. Then she springs to her feet and swishes away down the alley like a cotton ghost.
'Eee-lla!'
'Comin!'
I still feel her spit on my lips. I wipe it on my arm. As I melt into the dark on the escarpment side of the road, I see a figure bobbing through the light at Keeter's corner. It's Barry Gurie's unmistakable fat head. He ain't rushing. The hiss20 of a car approaches from the other direction. Lally's car. I run before its lights sweep the road.
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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omens
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| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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smirking
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| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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crunches
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| n.（突发的）不足( crunch的名词复数 )；需要做出重要决策的困难时刻；紧要关头；嘎吱的响声v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的第三人称单数 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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imprints
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| n.压印( imprint的名词复数 )；痕迹；持久影响 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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hisses
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| 嘶嘶声( hiss的名词复数 ) | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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flatten
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| v.把．．．弄平，使倒伏；使(漆等)失去光泽 | |
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peek
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| vi.偷看，窥视；n.偷偷的一看，一瞥 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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tickles
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| （使）发痒( tickle的第三人称单数 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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slumps
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| 萧条期( slump的名词复数 )； （个人、球队等的）低潮状态； （销售量、价格、价值等的）骤降； 猛跌 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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craves
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| 渴望，热望( crave的第三人称单数 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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juggling
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| n. 欺骗, 杂耍(=jugglery) adj. 欺骗的, 欺诈的 动词juggle的现在分词 | |
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bummed
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| 失望的，沮丧的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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clatters
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| 盘碟刀叉等相撞击时的声音( clatter的名词复数 ) | |
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flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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sperm
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| n.精子，精液 | |
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flailing
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| v.鞭打( flail的现在分词 )；用连枷脱粒；（臂或腿）无法控制地乱动；扫雷坦克 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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44
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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45
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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46
snarls
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| n.（动物的）龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 )；愤怒叫嚷（声）；咆哮（声）；疼痛叫声v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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47
cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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49
sprint
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| n.短距离赛跑；vi. 奋力而跑，冲刺；vt.全速跑过 | |
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50
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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51
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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53
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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54
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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55
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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56
outermost
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| adj.最外面的，远离中心的 | |
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57
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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58
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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screeches
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| n.尖锐的声音( screech的名词复数 )v.发出尖叫声( screech的第三人称单数 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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intercepts
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| （数学）截距( intercept的名词复数 ) | |
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