Read Online American Ghosts & Old World Wonders by Angela Carter - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angela Carter
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whores giggle and wave at Teresa.
Johnny idly begins to play a Strauss waltz. Roxana's foot taps a little.
The Count puts down his whisky. Smiles. He approaches Roxana, presents his arm. She's startled -- then blushes, beams like a young girl. Takes off her glasses, pats her hair, glances at herself in the mirror behind the bar, pleasantly flustered. Seeing her pleasure, the Count becomes more courtly still. Still quite a fine figure of a man! And she, when she smiles, you see what a pretty girl she must have been.
Johnny flourishes the keys; he's touched. He begins to play a Strauss waltz in earnest.
Roxana takes the Count's proffered arm; they dance.
"Look! Look! Roxana's dancing!"
The whores flock back into the room, laughing, admiring. And begin to dance with one another, girl with girl, in their spoiled negligees, their unlaced corsets, petticoats, torn stockings.
Maddalena, partnerless, lingers on the veranda, teasing Teresa. Music spills out of the brothel.
"Teresa! Teresa! Come and dance with me!"
Slowly, slowly, Teresa arrives at the veranda, climbs the stairs, peers through a window as, flushed and breathless, the dancers collapse in a laughing heap.
She and Johnny exchange a flashing glance. But her aunt catches sight of her. "Teresa, Teresa, scram! This is no place for you!"
At the Mendozas' dinner-table, her father sits picking his teeth with his knife.
"I want to learn the piano, papa."
He continues to pick his teeth with his knife. She didn't want to learn the piano at the damn convent; why does she want to learn it now? To be a lady, Papa; isn't she going to have a grand wedding, marry a fine man? "Papa, I want to learn the piano."
Teresa is spoiled, indulged in everything. But her father likes to tease her; he'll drag out her pleading as long as he can. He doesn't often have his daughter pleading with him. He cuts himself a chunk more meat, munches.
"And who will teach you piano in his hole, hm?"
"Johnny. Johnny at Aunt Roxana's."
He's suddenly really angry. You see what an animal he can become.
"What? My daughter learn piano in a brothel? Under the eye of that fat whore, Roxana?"
Maria leaps to her sister's defence, surging down on her husband with the carving knife held high. "Don't you insult my sister!"
Mendoza twists her wrist; she drops the knife. "I'm not having my daughter mixing with whores!"
"I want to learn piano," the spoiled child insists.
"Over my dead body will you go to Roxana's to learn the piano, not now you are an engaged girl."
"Then, papa, buy me a piano, let Johnny come here to teach me."
A creaking wagon delivers a shiny, new, baby grand in the courtyard of the rotting hacienda, among the grunting pigs and flapping chickens.
Effortlessly, it's installed in Teresa's room; entranced, she picks at the notes. "Kitty, kitty, the young man in the black jacket is coming to teach me piano. . ."
Her mother chaperones her, sitting, lolling in a rocking-chair, sipping tequila. Johnny, neat, elegant, a stranger, damned, with a portfolio of music under his arm, has come to give Teresa lessons. First, scales. . . soon, Czerny exercises. Johnny waits, watchful, biding his time.
Bored, her mother sips tequila and nods off to sleep. . . A Czerny exercise; Teresa hasn't quite mastered it. Making a mess of it, in fact. On purpose? Johnny's presence makes her
Johnny idly begins to play a Strauss waltz. Roxana's foot taps a little.
The Count puts down his whisky. Smiles. He approaches Roxana, presents his arm. She's startled -- then blushes, beams like a young girl. Takes off her glasses, pats her hair, glances at herself in the mirror behind the bar, pleasantly flustered. Seeing her pleasure, the Count becomes more courtly still. Still quite a fine figure of a man! And she, when she smiles, you see what a pretty girl she must have been.
Johnny flourishes the keys; he's touched. He begins to play a Strauss waltz in earnest.
Roxana takes the Count's proffered arm; they dance.
"Look! Look! Roxana's dancing!"
The whores flock back into the room, laughing, admiring. And begin to dance with one another, girl with girl, in their spoiled negligees, their unlaced corsets, petticoats, torn stockings.
Maddalena, partnerless, lingers on the veranda, teasing Teresa. Music spills out of the brothel.
"Teresa! Teresa! Come and dance with me!"
Slowly, slowly, Teresa arrives at the veranda, climbs the stairs, peers through a window as, flushed and breathless, the dancers collapse in a laughing heap.
She and Johnny exchange a flashing glance. But her aunt catches sight of her. "Teresa, Teresa, scram! This is no place for you!"
At the Mendozas' dinner-table, her father sits picking his teeth with his knife.
"I want to learn the piano, papa."
He continues to pick his teeth with his knife. She didn't want to learn the piano at the damn convent; why does she want to learn it now? To be a lady, Papa; isn't she going to have a grand wedding, marry a fine man? "Papa, I want to learn the piano."
Teresa is spoiled, indulged in everything. But her father likes to tease her; he'll drag out her pleading as long as he can. He doesn't often have his daughter pleading with him. He cuts himself a chunk more meat, munches.
"And who will teach you piano in his hole, hm?"
"Johnny. Johnny at Aunt Roxana's."
He's suddenly really angry. You see what an animal he can become.
"What? My daughter learn piano in a brothel? Under the eye of that fat whore, Roxana?"
Maria leaps to her sister's defence, surging down on her husband with the carving knife held high. "Don't you insult my sister!"
Mendoza twists her wrist; she drops the knife. "I'm not having my daughter mixing with whores!"
"I want to learn piano," the spoiled child insists.
"Over my dead body will you go to Roxana's to learn the piano, not now you are an engaged girl."
"Then, papa, buy me a piano, let Johnny come here to teach me."
A creaking wagon delivers a shiny, new, baby grand in the courtyard of the rotting hacienda, among the grunting pigs and flapping chickens.
Effortlessly, it's installed in Teresa's room; entranced, she picks at the notes. "Kitty, kitty, the young man in the black jacket is coming to teach me piano. . ."
Her mother chaperones her, sitting, lolling in a rocking-chair, sipping tequila. Johnny, neat, elegant, a stranger, damned, with a portfolio of music under his arm, has come to give Teresa lessons. First, scales. . . soon, Czerny exercises. Johnny waits, watchful, biding his time.
Bored, her mother sips tequila and nods off to sleep. . . A Czerny exercise; Teresa hasn't quite mastered it. Making a mess of it, in fact. On purpose? Johnny's presence makes her
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