The Carpetbaggers

7

NEVADA STIRRED RESTLESSLY, WITH THE VAGUE feeling that someone else was in the room with him. Automatically he reached for a cigarette, and when his hand hit empty air and fell downward against the side of the couch, he came awake.

It was a moment before he remembered where he was, then he swung his legs off the couch and reached for his pants. The cigarettes were in the right-hand pocket. He put one in his mouth and struck a match.

The flame flared in the darkness and he saw Rina sitting in the deep chair, looking at him. He drew deeply on the cigarette and blew out the match. "Why ain't you sleeping?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "I couldn't sleep," she said. 'I’m afraid."

He looked at her quizzically. "Afraid, Rina? Afraid of what?"

She didn't move in the chair. "I'm afraid of what will happen to me."

He laughed quietly, reassuringly. "You're all set and you're young. You got your whole life in front of you."

Her face was a luminous shadow in the darkness. "I know," she whispered. "That's what I tell myself. But the trouble is I can't make myself believe it."

Suddenly, she was on her knees on the floor in front of him. "You've got to help me, Nevada!"

He reached out and stroked her hair. "Things take time, Rina," he said.

Her hands caught at his. "You don't understand, Nevada," she said harshly. "I've always felt like this. Before I married Cord, before I ever came out here. Even when I was a little girl."

"I reckon, sometime or other, everyone's afraid, Rina."

Her voice was still hoarse with terror. "But not like me! I'm different. I'm going to die young of some horrible disease. I know that, Nevada. I feel it inside."

Nevada sat there quietly, his hand absently stroking her head as she cried. "Things'll be different once you get back East," he said softly. "There'll be young men there an- "

She raised her hand and looked up at him. The first faint flicker of morning light illuminated her features. Her eyes were wide and shining with her tears. "Young men, Nevada?" she asked and her voice seemed to fill with scorn. "They're one of the things I’m afraid of. Don't you think if I weren't, I'd have married Jonas instead of his father?"

He didn't answer.

"Young men are all alike," she continued. "They only want one thing from me." Her lips drew back across her white teeth and she spat the words out at him. "To fuck! To do nothing but fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He stared at her, a kind of shock running through him at hearing her clear and venomously ladylike articulation of the so familiar word. Then it was gone and he smiled.

"What do you expect, Rina?" he asked. "Why are you tellin' me all this?"

Her eyes looked into his face. "Because I want you to know me," she said. "I want you to understand what I'm like. No man ever has."

The cigarette scorched his lips. He put it out quickly. "Why me?"

"Because you're not a boy." The answer came quickly. "You're a grown man."

"An' you, Rina?" he asked.

Her eyes became almost defiant but her voice betrayed her unsureness. "I think I'm a Lesbian."

He laughed.

"Don't laugh!" she said quickly. "It's not so crazy. I've been with girls and I've been with men. And I've never made it with a man, not with any man like I have with a girl." She laughed bitterly. "Men are such fools. It's so easy to make them believe what they want to. And I know all the tricks."

His male vanity was aroused. "Maybe that's because you ain't never come up against a real man."

A challenging note came into her voice. "Oh, no?" He felt her fingers lightly search his thighs beneath the blanket and find his phallus. Quickly she threw the blanket aside and pressed her head into his lap. He felt the movement of her lips, and suddenly he was angry.

He pulled her head back by the hair. "What're you tryin' to prove?" he asked harshly.

Her breath came hard and uneven. "That you're the man," she whispered. "The one man that can make me feel."

He stared at her, not answering.

"You are the one, Nevada," she whispered. "I know it. I can feel it down inside me. You can make me whole again. I’ll never be afraid any more."

She turned her head again but his hand held her firm. Her eyes were wide and desperate. "Please, Nevada, please. Let me prove how I can love you!" She began to cry again.

Suddenly, he got to his feet and went over to the fireplace. He stirred the coals alive, fed them kindling and another log. A moment later, a crackling heat came sparkling into the room. He turned to look at her. She was still sitting on the floor in front of the couch, watching him.

Slowly he walked back toward her. "When I asked you up here, Rina, I thought I was doin' the right thing." He sat down and reached for a cigarette.

Before he could light it, she held a match for him. "Yes, Nevada?" she questioned softly.

The flame glowed in his eyes and died as the match went out. "I ain't the man you're lookin' for, Rina."

Her fingers touched lightly on his cheek. "No, Nevada," she said quickly. "That's not true."

"Mebbe not," he said and a slow smile came over his lips. "But I figger I'm too young. You see, all I want to do with you is – fuck, fuck, fuck!"

She stared at him for a moment and then she began to smile. She got up quickly and took the cigarette from his mouth. Her lips brushed fleetingly against his for a moment, then she walked to the fire and turned to face him. She put the cigarette between her lips and inhaled deeply.

Then she made a slight movement and the robe fell to the floor. The leaping fire turned her naked body into red gold. Swiftly she threw the cigarette into the fireplace behind her and started back toward him.

"Maybe it's better this way," she said, coming down into his outstretched arms. "Now we can be friends."