Fast Lane

Chapter 19

On the way to the hotel, I told the cabbie to stop off at a liquor store. Marge started giving me funny looks, but tried holding in whatever it was she was dying to say. But she couldn’t.

“Johnny,” she said softly. “I was hoping we could lay off the stuff. You know, make this trip a fresh start.”

“I just want to get enough for a nightcap,” I muttered. “But we’ll watch what we drink.”

“Promise, Johnny?”

“Cross my heart.”

The cab pulled over and I got out. That was all I needed, Marge nagging me about drinking. Now more than ever I was going to need a few drinks to take the edge off my worrying.

I bought a quart of scotch and another of rye. When Marge saw the bottles her face went white but she didn’t say anything. During the cab ride she sat with her hands balled up into tiny fists. When we got to the hotel she grabbed both suitcases, ignoring my offer to help, and made sure she was two steps ahead of me. Inside the room, though, she loosened up. I guess she decided it wasn’t worth losing any sleep over.

“So, lover.” She wrapped both arms around my neck. “What should we do first?”

“Why don’t we have a drink and celebrate our first night in Mexico?”

I pulled away from her and reached for the scotch. Pouring it, my hand was shaking.

“I don’t want any.”

“No? I guess I’ll have to celebrate for you.”

“You bastard.” She laughed. “Okay then.” I filled a glass about a quarter way and handed it to her. I then took my drink in three gulps, spilling a little down my chin. The alcohol tightened my stomach, and then everything inside sort of dulled. I would have liked another drink, but I knew I’d like another one after that and sooner or later the bottle would be empty. Too much needed to be done over the next few days to start getting plastered.

She put her drink down and sat cross-legged on the bed. “What next?” she asked.

“You got any ideas?”

She pursed her lips. “Maybe one.”

She straightened her legs, and, reaching behind her, pulled the dress over her head. It was a good thing her dress reached down past her panties. A damn good thing, since she wasn’t wearing any.

She asked, “Can you think of anything yet?”

I wanted another drink. My insides were begging for one, but I couldn’t afford to give in. I joined Marge on the bed. We started to go at it, or at least we tried to. I have to give Marge credit for giving it her best shot. She tried things I wouldn’t have dreamed of, but nothing worked. After a while she fell on her back, red-faced and breathing hard from her efforts. I prayed she wouldn’t say anything.

“These things happen,” she said, hesitating. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

I kept quiet, hoping she’d be smart enough to shut up. I held my breath. She couldn’t leave it alone, though. “You’re tired from all the traveling. Tomorrow you’ll be as good as new, you’ll see. I bet-”

“Shut up.”

“-that you’ll be a new man with a little sleep. Don’t worry about it, Johnny. It means nothing at-”

“Shut up!”

At least she had sense enough to listen to me. I put my pants on and left.

* * * * *

When I came back later Marge was in bed, snoring worse than a pack of dogs. I slipped in next to her and tried to get some sleep, but nothing was coming easy. I fell into this crazy cycle where, right before drifting into unconsciousness, I would jerk out of it, panicked that if I fell asleep I’d forget how to breathe. It got to the point where I was afraid to close my eyes.

After a while I became terrified that I’d collapse into sleep and then suffocate. I lay there sweating like a pig, and well, what Marge couldn’t do with all her effort, was accomplished out of pure necessity. I had to do something to keep my mind off all that craziness and what I did was to start rubbing her.

She groaned, and slowly became aware of what was going on. When we were finished she whispered to me that she knew I’d be okay if I just gave it a little time.

I prayed she was right but somehow I knew I wasn’t going to be. After the snoring started up again I tried closing my eyes but the same damn craziness took me over. Somehow I got the strength to crawl over to Marge. It kept up like that the whole night. Each time we finished I would try closing my eyes, but that same damn panic would overtake me. Somehow, even though I wouldn’t think it possible, I’d end up on top of her.

I guess at some point I must have collapsed into unconsciousness because Marge woke me up the next morning.

Her face was filled with that big easy smile of hers. In a soft, husky voice she said, “I’m all sore from last night. You couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

I blinked, trying to get my bearings. As bad as my stomach felt the night before it would’ve been a blessing if it felt that way now. I got to my feet and staggered to the bathroom.

When I was done, I got up off my knees and sat quietly while a cold chill shook through me. I looked in the mirror and groaned at what I saw. My eyes were red and had a hollow look to them. The hollowness seemed magnified by a gray clamminess that tinged my skin. I bent over the sink and splashed cold water on my face. I kept it up, hoping to wash away the nausea that had worked its way into my temples.

There was a knock on the door and Marge asked if I was okay.

I ignored her and kept up with the cold water. Another knock. Then Marge’s voice again, this time with a hysterical edge to it.

I opened the door. “Couldn’t hear you with the water running.”

She studied me, the color draining from her face. “Johnny, you look awful.”

“Thanks for the compliment.” I walked past her and poured myself a drink. The scotch hit me like a mule’s kick, and then seemed to warm everything up. I strolled over to her and gave her a pinch. “You don’t look so hot yourself in the morning.”

Concern was still working on her face, making her bite her lip. She placed her palm against my forehead. “You’re a little warm. Maybe your cut is infected. Let me take a look.”

I laughed. “I’m a little worn out, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “You look like you could use a hot bath.”

“That’s okay, I really-”

“No,” I said. “You’ll feel better. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

She shrugged and walked into the bathroom. After I heard the water start to run, I picked up the phone.