Schultz

24

Schultz rubbing his eyes walking along a lamplit Charing Cross Road. Past the closed shops of this desolate deserted street. A chill rainy mist falling. Released from jail, and now getting wet. And in six bloody hours I’ve got to be in Court. When I should be planning every last ditch emergency strategy for the show.

Schultz sending a shrieking whistle out between his lips. A taxi stopping two blocks away, turning and coming back. Thank god. At least I can still pipe out a long distance signal for a cab.

“Welcome aboard Gov, where to.”

Schultz alighting at number four Arabesque. Tiptoeing silently in. So far she hasn’t changed the locks on the door and stationed a policeman on the stoop to protect her life. But christ one can’t avoid bitterness after what that bitch has done. Holy jeeze where the fuck will she or her mother be sleeping. And that outsize walrus busting springs in some bed.

Schultz up the first flight of stairs. And up the next. Pressing the light switch. Fucking lights still out. Go into this bedroom at the top back of the house. For peace and quiet. What a night. My head is swimming. About six hours sleep in the last two days.

Schultz wearily taking off his jacket in the dark. Holy shit sounds like there’s a cat loose or something in here. I’m getting jumpy. Like Al nearly went out of his skin when he thought I knew his girl friend. A sweet fucking charmer that she is. I should have rung her. But for my unending adversity I would have done. And met her before that greying geriatric strips a gear on his organs trying to fuck her.

Schultz undoing his shirt, stopping listening again. I heard something, Jesus christ, fucking well move. Dear god I beg you, don’t after what you’ve already done to me make me be in the bedroom of the behemoth. Holy jeeze. There really is something fucking well in here breathing.

Schultz with shoelaces untied, trousers dropped to his ankles. Touching and feeling around him. Shit now if I move I’ll fall over. Or a skeleton will drop out behind me like it did with me getting drenched pissing all over myself in his Lordship’s castle. Christ I haven’t even yet recovered from that heart stopping shock. And Jesus I really do feel like I’m going to shit. My nerves are shattered. I’m just not going to last the course. Escape back to America. The land of the free. The home of the brave. Uncle Werb. Here I am. I want to go into the diamond business. Ah Sigmund what a good boy. Welcome to the reality of practical sense. Here, two million dollars worth of stones, take them over to Izzy my old pal on the top floor. They’re his for three million. You keep ten per cent of the profit for yourself and like a sensible boy go buy a good raincoat and galoshes, in case next time I have to send you out with diamonds to bring to Amsterdam when it’s raining. Holy jeeze. I’d do it. I’d really do it. I’d sell diamonds stark naked in the snow. Even for five per cent commission. And I could be fucking Dutch girls like Greta all over Holland.

Schultz touching his way across the room. Where’s the fucking bed I remember was right here. No Jesus, this is the wardrobe. Ah, my knees are touching the mattress. At last I’m going to be warm. Blankets on the bed.

“Holy shit.”

Schultz jumping backwards. A rustle of bedclothes. A gasping intake of breath. A female voice.

“Who’s that.”

“Jesus christ who the fuck is this.”

“Who are you.”

“I live here. Who are you.”

“Get out of here.”

Like fucking hell I will.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Holy shit, is it you Agnes.”

“Who are you.”

“It’s me Sigmund.”

“Get out of here Mr. Schultz. What are you doing here.”

“I was trying to go to bed.”

“Not with me you’re not.”

“No. I know. I’m sorry. I just got home. I didn’t know anybody was here.”

“Well now you know. And I hope you’ll go. Right away.”

“Jesus hold it will you. My clothes are everywhere.”

“Go this second. Someone could hear you. And I hope you could explain then what you were doing.”

“I’m going to fucking bed in my own house that’s what I’m doing. How the hell was I to know you’re here sleeping.”

“Well I am. Pricilla said I could.”

“O.K. honey, O.K. don’t panic. Give me a second will you to figure this out. Where I’m going to go and sleep. I only just got out of jail. I’m cold, tired and hungry.”

“And if you don’t mind my saying, you also appear to be without any clothes.”

“O hey gee I’m sorry. Boy what eyesight you got to be able to see in the dark. Momma meeo, a fond du mots by goom de bots.”

“What are you saying.”

“Nothing, it’s just an expression I used as a kid when every god damn thing was going wrong. Holy fuck, pardon my French but I’m dropping everything I can’t find.”

“How can you drop it if you can’t find it.”

“Honey you’d be surprised what I can do.”

“Yes, punching Pricilla.”

“Hey why the fuck does everybody see everything from her side.”

“Because she’s a lovely person.”

“Wow. You women stick together.”

“Of course we do if a man behaves like a beast.”

“Jesus honey, one sock and shoe is missing I got to find to get out of here. Which believe me I want to do in the quickest possible hurry.”

“I thought the show was lovely.”

“You did.”

“Yes. I did. Magillacurdy I thought was magnificent. Such incredible animal magnetism. A lady sitting next to me was jumping out of her seat in delirium over him.”

“You don’t know how much you’re doing my crushed soul a lot of good with those words honey.”

“Well I honestly did love the whole production.”

“That’s the most pleasantly hopeful thing I’ve heard, no kidding, all night. Even though I haven’t had hardly a second to talk to anybody. This is nearly the first moment I’m suddenly come to rest after spinning like a top for weeks.”

“I imagine it must be such an awful lot of work to put a whole production together like that. Finding and choosing all the people. I really admire you for it.”

“Honey if by any chance that great eyesight of yours can see my face in this obscurity you’ll see I’m smiling a beatific smile.”

“Are you.”

“Yes I am.”

“You’re rather a funny person, aren’t you. So much more introspective and serious than when one just meets you superficially.”

“Agnes honey, you’re a girl of impressive sensibilities.”

“I’m just an ordinary girl. All I’ve done is just ride horses all my life.”

“Honey I’m a little cold.”

“O.”

“And I’m a little tired.”

“O.”

“And I’ve got to be in Court in six hours. Jesus would it be asking too much just to chat and get warmed up in bed for a while.”

“Pricilla’s my best and oldest friend.”

“I know that honey, I know that.”

“We grew up together. Her father’s ranch was beside my father’s ranch before they lost all their money and moved to New York.”

“I know that honey, I know that.”

“And she’s right downstairs and her mother’s right downstairs.”

“I know honey. But I’m right here freezing.”

“Someone could suddenly come.”

“Key’s in the door. I’ll lock it. Please honey. No shit. I really need to be saved at this moment. If you really are a friend of Pricilla’s here’s a time you could really help her by helping her husband, who needs it. What about it. Come on. You’re a girl of impeccable theatrical taste.”

“Wow. You can lay it on thick can’t you. I just know I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Christ Eskimos do this all the time and nobody gets upset.”

“I don’t have any clothes on.”

“That’s O.K. honey, I won’t in a second have any on either.”

“Please, you mustn’t. Please don’t. She’s my only real close friend.”

“Honey, easy. Don’t worry. Just lift up the blanket like this. Look. See how easy and harmless it is.”

“O god.”

“See, I just slip in. Jesus, you have no idea what this is doing for me at this moment.”

“For me at this moment, it’s giving me goose pimples. I’m terrified. Don’t you understand. Pricilla and I were at convent school together.”

“Honey. Just close your mind to the past for awhile. See, lots of room. Not even touching. I just lie here. Hurting nobody.”

“We were confirmed together. Went to our first dances together. Rode together. Took holidays together. Shared our secrets.”

“Well here’s a secret you won’t have to share. It’ll make a change.”

“Don’t you know how close as friends two girls can be.”

“Sure. And as the husband of one of you, I could cement you two even closer. Jesus you looked good tonight.”

“Did you see me.”

“Sure I drank you in. In long ecstatic swallows. Stunning dress.”

“Did you really see me.”

“Sure. Your dress was a gorgeous satiny green. Who’s the guy with you.”

“O him. Just a stockbroker who’s been dating me.”

“Say no more honey. I heard how you’ve been chased ragged all over town by all those English creeps.”

“Some of them are extremely nice.”

“What’s that.”

“What honey.”

“There.”

“Just my knee. Is it bothering you.”

“No. Not yet anyway.”

“You know Agnes. I’ve never so suddenly ever felt better in my life. Usually as I’m lying here like this the ceiling or something has already fallen on me.”

“You’re a funny person aren’t you. I never thought Pricilla would ever in a million years marry anyone like you.”

“Hey what’s wrong with me.”

“Can I be truthful.”

“Sure honey. What’s wrong with me.”

“Well everything if I’m being honest. I nearly died when I saw you. Her description of you in her letters. As if you were this golden haired knight mounted on this white charger slaying dragons. Then when I met you I nearly burst out laughing. Pricilla has had the pick of men all her life, anybody she wanted. You’ll never believe this but her mother was once one of the most beautiful women in Argentina. And Pricilla just like her, has had only to flick her eyelashes and men were grovelling at her feet. Handsome polo players, Italian princes, tycoons. That’s why I flew all the way here. I thought, my god, Pricilla must have found the most fantastic man of all time. I even, I must confess on the way, hoped you’d break up or something, so I’d have a chance. Then when, there you were. I could see, that love, is absolutely blind. Sorry if I make you seem like such a disappointment. I don’t mean it that way at all. I mean you must have much deeper qualities that aren’t apparent. It’s not that you’re a phoney. O dear. I’m saying too much. Now you’re silent. I’ve hurt your feelings.”

“No honey you numbed them a little. It’ll be a help when I’m standing in front of a judge in a few hours. But between now and then I hope the fucking christ I hear something from somebody that can make me feel I justify my god damn existence.”

“O dear. You’re angry.”

“Honey I’ll tell you one thing that I really am. Right now lying here listening to you. I’m so horny and so dying to fuck you into the next century and centuries beyond, that anything you say only makes me want to fuck you even more.”

“O god.”

“What’s the matter, honey.”

“I don’t know.”

“You want me to get out.”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do.”

“Lock the door.”

“No problem.”

Schultz twisting the key. Returning to bed. Only slightly spraining one ankle stepping on the one lost shoe. Snaking in between the sheets. Rolling over into the arms of this armful. What a change of scenery grabbing these cornucopious bosoms. Locked sweet and delicious mouth to mouth. Honey this golden knight may not be golden and may not be slaying dragons. But he is going to fuck you with such compassion you didn’t know existed. And honey, by the way you’re squirming around like a live Prague Christmas carp, you’re going to do the same. My god. My Czech grandfather. Thanks for the big prick you bequeathed me. To plant in this joy toy. Who is everything I need at this moment. Her spine bones are just the most perfect keyboard for playing diminuendo crescendo of the nervous chord. Wish I could have seen with my bare eyes the gorgeous arse of this creature. With two handfuls already, my fingers are crying out for an extra helping. Just when I was suddenly feeling like an old dog who is petted no more, mangy and kicked in the teeth, here I am climbing up to go to sleep drowsily on a cloud. After a good fuck first. When ten minutes ago I thought I would have to end up letting my curls and whiskers grow. Go black hatted in a long black coat along a jammed packed Forty Seventh Street. Wearing ten pairs of eye glasses to see gems I’m blinded by all day long. Uncle Werb trying to teach me fucking Yiddish and Czech like my grandfather spoke in Prague. And now Jesus with a nectar flowing cunt, this is suddenly the garden of Eden after Adam and Eve have left. I got to taste this unforbidden fruit. Gripped right around my finger. A fucking miracle down there. Demanding insatiable investigation by all the senses. If only screwing women did not result later in my getting fucked in so many other disastrous ways. Nearly ruining my appetite for evermore. Except wow. To kiss, lips smacking, this real honey. Seeping from soft silky thighs spread wide. Conjuring hope to arise from the forlorn vistas of my life. This sure is an opening night at last. Just like no time is the perfect time for a producton. Everytime is the right time to fuck. Keeps me sane in this theatrical life which is too sparsely filled with infrequent peaks of ecstatic joy popping up isolated in a vast sea of tortuous uncertainty. But honey. This is one of the peaks. From which the prick of yours truly will salvo. Into this body you got which ought to go touring on stage in my private life. God, please don’t make the show a flop. Let’s settle between us for a soft hit. In London anyway, no one will speak to you if you’re too successful. In New York no one will speak to you if you’re not. Honey you cunt. You miraculous cunt. You love it. Don’t you. Heaving in rapture. The state of unhappiness can become so familiar that you don’t dare embrace any moments of delight. Then you fucking well dare. Holy shit she fucks like a horse cantering on her pampas. Who designed her. To sprout out of those vast treeless plains. That was the only thing I ever learned about Argentina in high school. And honey since you come off those grasslands. I’m going there in a hurry for further education. Showbizz makes you when you’re happy very happy. And when you’re sad you’re suicidal. But this is catapulting straight into heaven in one nice easy plunge. The wealthiest guys in the world say that no matter how rich you get, you’ve got only one mouth to fill and one asshole to empty. But what they forgot to say is that Jesus you can have more than one cunt to eat. This is it. What women are really good for. To transport you in two seconds. On their soothing bed of flesh. From a bed of deep piercing cold nails. Into a whole new world of perfect comfort. Holy mackerel. She’s pulling me off by the hair. Away from her delicious pulsating snatch. Jesus don’t moan fuck me so loud. And honey don’t rush me. In a ten second count down I’m going to slam it in all way to the moon. Kiss me goodbye. Kiss me hello when we both weightless get there. Momma meeo. Her teeth sinking sucking in my neck. The green green eyes you got I kept looking at when I was undertaken to the Savoy for the post funeral celebration after the disaster of my wedding. This is the first thing good now that’s come out of it. With your hand around my balls. Tugging and squeezing away. And you’ll get every ounce, honey. You firecracker. You just explode my amazement. Maybe my indelible motto I was for a second thinking of abandoning, should remain absolutely the same. Don’t waste time with women you’re not fucking. Unless later that was exactly what all the wasted time was for in the beginning. Honey don’t squeeze and pull too hard. They’ll hear my balls ringing. With the bitch down there who eats like a cement mixer listening. Uncle Werb says there are over two thousand categories of diamonds. And for him I’ve got news. Uncle Werb believe me when I tell you, there are twice as many categories of cunts. And my prick is in one of the most delightful examples. Which Jesus is now going to make me come like Niagara Falls after a deluge. Momma meeo. Something fatal is happening. I’m coming. All over the world. How am I honey, ever ever going to do without you. After this I could happily drift into senile paralysed old age like Al. Who should at his time of life be leaving young girls to the young guys like me. To screw without having a heart valve blow out. Like I think mine nearly just did.

Schultz reaching up a hand to feel if the top of his head was still on and to brush back Agnes’s silkily soft hair stuck in the beads of perspiration of his brow. Sounds out on the London night. And all’s quiet on the Arabesque front. Agnes half an inch away. Nice fresh air coming in the window from the back garden. Big Ben tolling a quarter to five. Holy Jesus I must have for a minute fell asleep. In a dream I was on my way from Woonsocket to Boston on the train. Lost my luggage. In the big shadowy gloomy station. Then found myself not knowing where to go out in the twisted streets. Kept asking everybody directions to the Ritz Carlton Hotel. They kept saying you go left, you go right, then through a door of an old office building and down a long tiled hall. And out another door. I’d get there. End up standing around hearing doors slamming. And ask and get the same direction from somebody else all over again. I kept saying it’s by the Public Gardens. And Agnes suddenly was there, magically opening up every orifice. And Jesus I found my way. Right up into a Ritz bedroom having sausages and buckwheat cakes drowned in maple syrup. Blueberry muffins and melted butter. And quaffing coffee. Reading the newspapers. Watching the television. Happy on top of the world.

“You’ve got to get out of here.”

“Holy cow take it easy, don’t push.”

“I thought I heard a sound.”

“Could be a cat in the garden.”

“I’ve just betrayed my best friend.”

“No you didn’t honey, you just did her a big favour.”

“I’m in her house. Her guest.”

“You’re in my house. You’re my guest too honey.”

“You sound like a cat who just got the cream.”

“Honey you just saved my life.”

“That’s nice for you. But I’m not in the life saving business. O dear, what’s that.”

“Nothing honey.”

“It is. Someone’s coming up the stairs.”

“Holy shit, there is. Agnes don’t panic, door’s locked.”

“O god what are we going to do.”

“Lie low. I’ll get under the bed just in case.”

“Get your clothes.”

“No problem. Holy shit. What am I saying again. It could be some problem.”

“Shush.”

Schultz on hands and knees, grabbing around on the floor in the dark. Dragging his clothes after him squeezing face up in under the bed. A creak of floor boards in the hall. A long long listening silence. Another creak. And a knock on the door.

“Agnes. Are you alright in there.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure. My mother thought she heard someone screaming.”

“I had a bad dream. I’m alright now.”

“Can I come in.”

“The door’s locked.”

“Why have you locked it.”

“I just locked it. I always lock my door in a big city.”

“I do think you had better let me in. Open the door. Please. Oh the door is open. I thought you said it was locked.”

Schultz squirming further under the bed. Holy jeeze, how the fuck did that happen. Too much on my mind for too long and mistakes are happening all over the fucking place. They teach you day and night in the Coast Guard. Check and then double check everything. Now with the way my life has become, if I don’t fall head first downstairs, I leave doors open, my fly open, and even my prick out. Which would you believe it, is at this moment pushing a hole up into the bedsprings.

A candle glow coming into the room. Followed by Pricilla. In a purple satin nightdress, with transparent crimson lace over the bosoms guaranteed to turn tired husbands on fire.

“Now are you sure you’re alright Agnes.”

Agnes shifting down in the bed. Schultz pulling his armful of clothes in tight around him. Foot entangled around the lamp cord. Holy Jesus christ. There’s a break in my favour. No electricity to electrocute me. One more inch lower and I could never even with my prick bent back double, fit under this fucking thing in the first place. Look at the bitch. The hem of a brand new purple fucking outfit to go to bed in. And she’s wearing my god damn hand sewn custom made slippers. If my heart pounds any louder she’ll hear it. Come on Agnes. Time to be as cool as a cucumber in the September rain. Keep up the performance. Act like you were masturbating and blew your lid in a paroxysm. Don’t give the game away with nervousness. Like I’m beginning to do with hysteria. Jesus this is just like once instead of hiding under it, I had to lie in full view in the bed. With a Mafia gunman four feet away pointing a god damn Smith and Wesson thirty eight calibre revolver right at me between the eyes. When I had two minutes before been forty two miles up his luscious chorus girl mistress fucking the tits off her all afternoon. When the banging on the door came just as I was banging her for the seventh ecstatic but unlucky time. Her jaw dropped and her eyes nearly fell out while she nearly ripped my prick off jumping into a kimono. The guy was hammering the apartment door down while I said should I hide under the bed. She said no. He’ll kill you soon as he finds you there. Just go to sleep and look like you got pneumonia. I’ll tell him you’re my nephew from Albany who’s visiting town and got sick. I got sick in a second like I had malaria, double pneumonia, clap and leprosy. The fever I threw made me so red all over the face I nearly exploded. Like I thought the end of the revolver barrel was going to do any second. With his bodyguard just behind him, he kept standing there. In a black fedora, chesterfield overcoat and black skin tight gloves. Holding the gun on me. Looking. Saying. If this fucking kid’s been up to any monkey business I’ll blow first his head away and then yours. She kept saying can’t you see he’s just an innocent kid Al. Imagine this gangster called Al. He was also called hairy ape because he didn’t have a hair on his body. Never before did I try to look so young, innocent and vulnerable. Only time I ever truly changed character in my life. It was a tour de force. Even to fluttering my eyelids to look effeminate. So help me fucking god I swear that was what must have convinced him. I was a pansy. He locked the bedroom door. As he was leaving he socked her breaking her nose. Shoved his knee in her stomach and made her vomit. Then threw her crashing back through the bedroom door where I was to my own astonishment getting up to protect her. Fortunately he was gone. And holy shit I left this god damn bedroom door open. But Jesus instead of Pricilla, give me the Mafia anytime. She could be giving evidence against me this morning in Court. Christ I already hear her sniffing.

“Agnes. I smell something, like tomcat or something.”

“I don’t smell anything.”

“Well I do.”

“A cat might have got in during the night. In the window.”

“How could a cat climb up three floors up the side of the building.”

“The drain pipe.”

“What’s this.”

“What’s what.”

“This Agnes.”

“That.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think it’s anything is it.”

“It’s a man’s sock. And this is a shoe. I think I am entitled to an explanation. Well.”

“Honestly, really honestly, Pricilla, I just woke up.”

Holy Jesus, my whole life is passing in front of my eyes, come on honey make it sound more convincing. Or else this could be the third situation of major mayhem in this house. Just like the psalm singing girl I invited in off the street. There she was playing in the band, pink skinned wearing glasses early one Sunday morning. In her little dark green straw bonnet with its big bow. Singing that old rugged cross. Coloured ribbons on her tambourine. Watching her through the curtain, every time she opened her mouth I wanted to shove my prick between her beautiful teeth. Then shit ten minutes later when I thought they were gone, the bell rang. And there she was standing in front of me at the door collecting donations. I said step in. Don’t mind my kimono. A big flower on her collar and purple epaulettes. After giving her two ten shilling notes one after the other I listened for five minutes to her shit trying to convert me. Praise my soul the king of heaven. She made her decision to consecrate herself. To god who is wonderful. I have promised to serve him to the end. Under my breath I said for Jesus’ sake honey serve me a piece of ass. She said she’d found peace. Plus plenty tranquility and rich fellowship through the blessing of the Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus I don’t know how I did it. And I don’t think she knew what I was doing. But I said take my mace, honey. In the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost. I had her on her back, drawers down, green dress up, legs open fucking her right there on the carpet downstairs in the front hall. With her tambourine and collecting tin lying next to her. When a bunch of the fucking rest of the choir came all at once looking for her right to my door. Jesus what a battle that was. In and out the hall, up and down on my stoop. In the middle of screwing she said divine and human nature is combined in god, the governor of all things. Blood and fire she said. Crossed swords. Snakes around our cross. Every word she said, now I believe. And only hope her religion will forgive me.

“Where is he.”

“Where’s who.”

“My husband, this is his shoe.”

“How can you be sure, Pricilla.”

“It’s his shoe. That’s how I can be sure.”

“Honestly I don’t know where your husband is Pricilla. It must have just got left here somehow.”

“That’s not all that’s just got left here. His smell is here. The smell of his sperm.”

“That’s the candle you’re smelling.”

“This is a beeswax candle. I know what my husband’s sperm smells like.”

“Well I’m sure that you do, Pricilla. But I don’t. And I wouldn’t want to know. Please Pricilla, can’t you just go back to bed. You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill.”

“Don’t tell me what to do in my house.”

“Pricilla, god, I’m not telling you.”

“And what’s this. Over here. Look at this. This is his tie, he wore tonight to the opening.”

“It couldn’t be. It’s my boyfriend’s.”

“You liar you came here to escape your boyfriend. And I let you into my house. This is his tie clip. Initials S.F.S. Is this your boyfriend’s. Is it. You fucking betraying treacherous bitch.”

Pricilla rushing forward. The candle on the dresser toppling over and falling to the floor. Two bodies bouncing on the mattress over Schultz’s head. Screams and scratching. Holy jeeze. Here we go folks. I wish the fuck this didn’t have to happen. Thank god the candle’s just gone out. With what’s going to happen now, any darkness is merciful.

“I’ll kill you, you slut.”

“Get off me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

Dust and debris dropping down into Schultz’s face. Jeeze. I’m choked. This fucking house. I once called a home. I lived in decently and civilized as a respectable occupant once. Holy god. Pricilla’s going to ruin that beautiful piece of ass. Christ, who knows maybe this should be flattering to my ego.

“I’ll tear your tits off you cunt. You cunt.”

Schultz pulled his shirt over his face as more dust puffed down. They’re murdering each other. Fond du mots. Grunting, thumping, screaming and groaning. Am I a dumb bastard. Momma meeo. What a dumb bastard I am. What the fuck is it I can’t do things in the right sequence. If ever guidance and flexuosity was needed in my life, it’s. now. Greta and Roxana’s fight turned into the greatest bout of screwing. But these two are never ever going to love each other again.

“Pricilla, stop, stop. O god. My face. My face.”

“Teach you a lesson you dirty slut.”

Grunts, groans, and curses turning to choking croaks. O Jesus one of them is giving out last gasps. Somebody’s hands are around somebody’s throat. Got to make an appearance now. Even stark fucking naked. To save lives. God gives me for every little sprinkle of pleasure, a deluge of horror. Never did I know how well off I was two hours ago behind bars in jail.

Schultz squirming out. Crawling on hands and knees, entangled in a piece of underwear torn pulling it on. An arm through where it should have been a leg. And a leg wound in the lamp cord. A crash of white pottery. There goes another light out forever. Just rip everything off. Jesus where am I. I’ve been hit already. I wish I was miles away.

“There he is you bitch, the fucking bastard. Hiding under the bed. You hussy.”

Pricilla kneeling astride Agnes. Her hand pressed down squeezed around her throat. Holy shit, got to hold this tiger. Who came into my life like she wouldn’t hurt a moth.

“Let go of her. You’re killing her. Let go for christ’s sake.”

“Shut up you.”

Schultz tearing at the fingers. Shit suddenly she’s got the fucking strength of a stevedore. When at any other time she could have fainted, now she’s wide awake alive like a maniac. When here’s something for her to faint about. When it would make everybody happy. Instead she erupts like an insane volcano.

“You’re killing her for christ’s sake. Let go.”

Schultz hauling back and releasing a left hook slapping Pricilla’s jaw. Holy jeeze. Like hitting fucking granite wall all of a sudden. Hey what’s this.

Light coming in the door. O no. Please Jesus. Not that. Not the fucking walrus behemoth whale. Tits heaving like ocean waves. Three candles blazing on her ice breaking bow.

“What’s going on in here.”

Mrs. Prune in a black satin nightdress pushing her plate of candles on the dresser. Three flames flickering in the mirror. Shadows on the wall. The imitation crystal ceiling chandelier tinkling as the weight of the behemoth vibrated the floor and window panes.

“It’s you again. Striking my daughter. You beast. Being arrested doesn’t teach you a lesson.”

“Fuck you madam, there’s a killing going on here.”

“I’ll kill you, that’s who I’ll kill.”

“Get your fucking hands off me, you tub of lard.”

Mrs. Prune pounding forward. Her arms grabbing around the stark naked Schultz. As his one free hand grabbed out clutching at her hair. Which holy shit. No. My god. The whole fucking thing is coming off her completely bald head. This is the end of my life. If only I could get to the window to jump. Like her husband did. Out away from this Arab Israeli war to end all wars.

“Give me back my hair.”

“Let fucking go of me.”

Schultz shaking loose. Pricilla arms flailing. Agnes, arms up shielding her face, still gasping for air. Schultz throwing punches. Landing sinking in these bottomless bosoms. O god. I can’t look. The sight makes me sick. She looks like a man. Except for her mountainous tits. Fucking hell the behemoth is going to hit me with the rest of the broken lamp.

“Put that down you bitch.”

“My daughter. You’re trying to make her miscarry.”

“Shit, stop, stop everybody.”

“Look at you. Look at you. Disgusting pervert. With your penis erected. I’m going to smash that prick and balls with this lamp.”

The bald headed behemoth stalking him. Schultz circling backing away. Sounds of sobbing. Agnes hands up to her face. Pricilla at the bedside, fists clenched, snarling down.

“That’s what you deserve you sneaky slut.”

“You’ve hurt me, my neck, you’ve hurt me.”

“Next time it will be your brains I’ll knock out. And you get out of this house. And I never want to set eyes on or speak to you again. Who do you think you are.”

“I am your best friend. He came in. He had nowhere to go.”

“Except up you, is that right.”

“No no. Nothing. Not a thing happened. He said he was cold and hungry.”

“For a piece of ass as he always is.”

“We did nothing. And you’ve scratched my face.”

“I smell his sperm.”

“Please, Pricilla. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.”

Schultz cornered between the dresser and the window. One of the landlord’s ersatz antique chairs held legs up jabbing at Mrs. Prune. By the dawn’s early light. Cold draught of air on my arse. The behemoth standing, her eyes wide eyed. Staring transfixed. Catching her breath. Holy Jesus the most horrible obscene sight of my existence. They saw you get a hard on at a hanging. She’s mesmerized. Can’t take her eyes off it. Give it a twitch. For once in my life my stiff prick is saving me from a broken arse. With an erection you could use as a high diving board. Giving such signals. And making in this situation my prick go wagging up and down pointing at the bald behemoth. Still got her jet black wig in my hand. Just watch me. I’m going to god damn well put it on. Top of my head.

And go

Fucking

Gay