Read Online Pages Torn From a Travel Journal by Edward Lee - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Edward Lee
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without them, yes–—he informed me of that.”
An accented laugh rumbled like tumbling stones. “That may be what she told ya, man, but the truth is O’Slaughnassey himself pulled all them choppers out years ago.”
The words turned me to stone. “He . . . deliberately . . . pulled them . . . out?”
“A’course, lad! Once he married her proper, that is. She weren’t but a lass of twelve or so back then–well, maybe eleven. But with her feet the way they is, she gets every pervert this side of the pond sweet on her, and that dandy mouth with no teeth in it?” He laughed aloud. “Don’t tell me you ain’t been thinkin’ about it. O’Slaughnassey’s a right smart man. Yankin’ them out made her the best dick-sucker this show’s ever seen. He makes more money whorin’ her than he makes the rest’a the whores all together, that he does.”
The bruiser’s grinning face seemed to contort into something half-Mephistopholian. I hoped, even prayed, that his horrendous exposition was just a carnal-house lie, but somehow the sheer evil in his cast told me it was not.
It was truth.
& with that truth, I could’ve collapsed, muttering aloud my own despair. “What kind of a world could let such horrors be? The girl is pure innocence, yet fate gave her a father that bound her feet & a husband who pulled her teeth? Surely the cosmos should prolapse and suck this pest-warren of a planet into abysmal voids of uncreation–”
But now the Irish brutarian laughed all the more. “Oh, Mister–you yanks are somethin’, aye? We ain’t all from New England, ya know. How is it ya can be so hot on Bliss while ya know nothin’ about her?”
“I assure you, Sir, ” I snapped, “that I am not in reception of your meaning.”
“Things are different all over. See, Bliss’s father and her husband are one in the same,” & then the bout of laughter redoubled.
Evil, evil, evil, I thought, wanting to vomit. To hang myself summarily would’ve been better than learning this. My voice trembled along with my hands when I demanded, “That may well be, Sir—nevertheless I insist on purchasing an allotment of time by which I may share in some of her company.” I emptied my billfold & shook my entire stack of notes at him. “How much? ”
“ No amount of money is enough tonight–”
My ire grew to full-scale rabidness. It was not even a “trick” I wanted, but only a few moments to convince her to come away with me, not that I could have told him that. “What’s that supposed to mean! Is there something irregular about me? How is it that shylocks such as you & your ‘carny’ brethren refuse hard cash?”
“Best to let your dander down, lad,” the rapscallion adjured gregariously in spite of the nihilistic cast. “Your money’s good as the next one’s, but Bliss won’t be turnin’ no tricks tonight on account of–” but before the explanation’s remainder could be made sonant, a brief commotion ensued from the darkness of the adjoining canvas corridor, then from the murk emerged 2 more overly muscled toughs.
They were bearing a makeshift stretcher fashioned from heavy sheets of fabric wrapped about 2 poles; upon this lay a wan form beneath some sheets.
No, no, no, my psyche groaned even before my eyes registered the truth. It was Bliss who lay crumpled, shivering, & battered upon the stretcher.
“What in the name of all things decent happened!” I yelled.
A large hand opened over my heart & pressured me back. “You keep yer dander down, man, else I’ll be introducin’ your kisser to my fist. Bliss got a bit of a pranging is all–”
Spittle flew when I yelled further, “A pranging? Someone’s beaten her senseless!” & as I made the exclamation, she was carried briskly past me, one eye swollen closed, her cheek a grotesque purple contusion, mouth crimson with blood. In that last irreducible fraction of a second that I saw her, her good eye opened, bloomed at the sight of me; then she smiled
An accented laugh rumbled like tumbling stones. “That may be what she told ya, man, but the truth is O’Slaughnassey himself pulled all them choppers out years ago.”
The words turned me to stone. “He . . . deliberately . . . pulled them . . . out?”
“A’course, lad! Once he married her proper, that is. She weren’t but a lass of twelve or so back then–well, maybe eleven. But with her feet the way they is, she gets every pervert this side of the pond sweet on her, and that dandy mouth with no teeth in it?” He laughed aloud. “Don’t tell me you ain’t been thinkin’ about it. O’Slaughnassey’s a right smart man. Yankin’ them out made her the best dick-sucker this show’s ever seen. He makes more money whorin’ her than he makes the rest’a the whores all together, that he does.”
The bruiser’s grinning face seemed to contort into something half-Mephistopholian. I hoped, even prayed, that his horrendous exposition was just a carnal-house lie, but somehow the sheer evil in his cast told me it was not.
It was truth.
& with that truth, I could’ve collapsed, muttering aloud my own despair. “What kind of a world could let such horrors be? The girl is pure innocence, yet fate gave her a father that bound her feet & a husband who pulled her teeth? Surely the cosmos should prolapse and suck this pest-warren of a planet into abysmal voids of uncreation–”
But now the Irish brutarian laughed all the more. “Oh, Mister–you yanks are somethin’, aye? We ain’t all from New England, ya know. How is it ya can be so hot on Bliss while ya know nothin’ about her?”
“I assure you, Sir, ” I snapped, “that I am not in reception of your meaning.”
“Things are different all over. See, Bliss’s father and her husband are one in the same,” & then the bout of laughter redoubled.
Evil, evil, evil, I thought, wanting to vomit. To hang myself summarily would’ve been better than learning this. My voice trembled along with my hands when I demanded, “That may well be, Sir—nevertheless I insist on purchasing an allotment of time by which I may share in some of her company.” I emptied my billfold & shook my entire stack of notes at him. “How much? ”
“ No amount of money is enough tonight–”
My ire grew to full-scale rabidness. It was not even a “trick” I wanted, but only a few moments to convince her to come away with me, not that I could have told him that. “What’s that supposed to mean! Is there something irregular about me? How is it that shylocks such as you & your ‘carny’ brethren refuse hard cash?”
“Best to let your dander down, lad,” the rapscallion adjured gregariously in spite of the nihilistic cast. “Your money’s good as the next one’s, but Bliss won’t be turnin’ no tricks tonight on account of–” but before the explanation’s remainder could be made sonant, a brief commotion ensued from the darkness of the adjoining canvas corridor, then from the murk emerged 2 more overly muscled toughs.
They were bearing a makeshift stretcher fashioned from heavy sheets of fabric wrapped about 2 poles; upon this lay a wan form beneath some sheets.
No, no, no, my psyche groaned even before my eyes registered the truth. It was Bliss who lay crumpled, shivering, & battered upon the stretcher.
“What in the name of all things decent happened!” I yelled.
A large hand opened over my heart & pressured me back. “You keep yer dander down, man, else I’ll be introducin’ your kisser to my fist. Bliss got a bit of a pranging is all–”
Spittle flew when I yelled further, “A pranging? Someone’s beaten her senseless!” & as I made the exclamation, she was carried briskly past me, one eye swollen closed, her cheek a grotesque purple contusion, mouth crimson with blood. In that last irreducible fraction of a second that I saw her, her good eye opened, bloomed at the sight of me; then she smiled
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