Read Online Tales of the City 08 - Mary Ann in Autumn by Armistead Maupin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Armistead Maupin
Ads: Link
to her, ya hear?”
Otto looked flustered, so Shawna jumped in: “He is. He’s very nice to me.”
“I had me one for a while.”
“A man, you mean?” Shawna couldn’t help grinning. The woman might as well have been talking about a parakeet.
“Yep,” said the woman. “When I was about your age.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I was prettier’n you, too.”
“I’m sure you were” was all Shawna could think to say.
“A whole lot prettier.”
“Hey, watch it,” Shawna said jovially, “or I’ll take my money back.”
“You do, bitch, and I’ll cut you.”
Otto was obviously aghast, but Shawna caught the twinkle lurking deep in the woman’s red-rimmed eyes. “Not if I smack the shit out of you first,” she said.
This elicited another cackle. “You’re all right, kid.”
“I don’t know about that .”
“Nah. You’re my kinda lady. Nothin’ scares you, does it?”
It was an interesting question. “Not the usual things, I guess.”
“Good for you. Us girls gotta be brave.”
“I guess we do, yeah.”
The woman raised her grimy fist in a show of solidarity with Shawna before trudging farther down the traffic island in search of another handout.
“How does it get that bad?” Shawna asked Otto.
He just shrugged. “Heroin.”
“That can’t be all of it.”
“You’d have to ask her.”
The light changed and Shawna drove away. She felt a shameful rush of relief as the woman grew ever smaller in the rearview mirror. That’s why the homeless beg at stoplights, she thought. It’s as much for us as it is for them. We’re shielded from the horror by glass and steel, and we can make a clean break as soon as the light changes.
“She was nice,” Shawna offered.
“It’s her routine. It’s part of signing.”
“Signing?”
“That’s what they call it. When they hold out those signs.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I work the streets, too.”
She snorted. “The mean streets of Pier 39.”
“She’s living for the next fix, so she does what she has to do.”
And we drive on, thought Shawna. We drive on and do nothing .
“What’s the matter?” asked Otto.
“Nothing. Everything. She said it herself: the world is fucked.”
“You wanna go back? Offer her a hot shower and a place to sleep?”
Otto knew the answer to that already.
“I could write about her,” Shawna said feebly.
Otto gave her a sly sideways smile. “And who would that help?”
She turned her eyes back to the road. “Bite me, clown boy.”
Chapter 9
Lady Parts
T he cottage seemed even smaller on the inside, which was fine with Mary Ann. The last thing she needed was room for rattling around. She’d had that in spades back in Darien, and that cavern of a house, minus husband and stepson, only amplified her despair. She wanted to feel cozy now—confined, even—and here, in this doll’s house of a room, with the guys just across the garden, she could be alone but not alone.
She was touched to see how they’d prepared for her arrival: a Mason jar of pink tea roses by the bed and a little wooden crate of artisanal goat soap on the dresser. There was even a Quan Yin—a jade one with a sweet smile—though that might have always been there. She set down her suitcase with an appreciative sigh. “Perfect.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Hardly.”
She turned and laid her head against his chest. “No, Mouse … I appreciate it more than you can know.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. She wondered how much trouble she had caused. Ben had seemed all right about it, but it was sometimes hard to read the emotions behind that gap-toothed Huck Finn smile.
“You can put your suitcase there,” Michael said, indicating the only patch of unoccupied floor in the room. “And there’s a rod in the bathroom where you can hang stuff. If there’s not enough room, let me know. We can hang it in the house.”
She assured him she was fine, that she planned to live as simply as possible during her
Otto looked flustered, so Shawna jumped in: “He is. He’s very nice to me.”
“I had me one for a while.”
“A man, you mean?” Shawna couldn’t help grinning. The woman might as well have been talking about a parakeet.
“Yep,” said the woman. “When I was about your age.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I was prettier’n you, too.”
“I’m sure you were” was all Shawna could think to say.
“A whole lot prettier.”
“Hey, watch it,” Shawna said jovially, “or I’ll take my money back.”
“You do, bitch, and I’ll cut you.”
Otto was obviously aghast, but Shawna caught the twinkle lurking deep in the woman’s red-rimmed eyes. “Not if I smack the shit out of you first,” she said.
This elicited another cackle. “You’re all right, kid.”
“I don’t know about that .”
“Nah. You’re my kinda lady. Nothin’ scares you, does it?”
It was an interesting question. “Not the usual things, I guess.”
“Good for you. Us girls gotta be brave.”
“I guess we do, yeah.”
The woman raised her grimy fist in a show of solidarity with Shawna before trudging farther down the traffic island in search of another handout.
“How does it get that bad?” Shawna asked Otto.
He just shrugged. “Heroin.”
“That can’t be all of it.”
“You’d have to ask her.”
The light changed and Shawna drove away. She felt a shameful rush of relief as the woman grew ever smaller in the rearview mirror. That’s why the homeless beg at stoplights, she thought. It’s as much for us as it is for them. We’re shielded from the horror by glass and steel, and we can make a clean break as soon as the light changes.
“She was nice,” Shawna offered.
“It’s her routine. It’s part of signing.”
“Signing?”
“That’s what they call it. When they hold out those signs.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I work the streets, too.”
She snorted. “The mean streets of Pier 39.”
“She’s living for the next fix, so she does what she has to do.”
And we drive on, thought Shawna. We drive on and do nothing .
“What’s the matter?” asked Otto.
“Nothing. Everything. She said it herself: the world is fucked.”
“You wanna go back? Offer her a hot shower and a place to sleep?”
Otto knew the answer to that already.
“I could write about her,” Shawna said feebly.
Otto gave her a sly sideways smile. “And who would that help?”
She turned her eyes back to the road. “Bite me, clown boy.”
Chapter 9
Lady Parts
T he cottage seemed even smaller on the inside, which was fine with Mary Ann. The last thing she needed was room for rattling around. She’d had that in spades back in Darien, and that cavern of a house, minus husband and stepson, only amplified her despair. She wanted to feel cozy now—confined, even—and here, in this doll’s house of a room, with the guys just across the garden, she could be alone but not alone.
She was touched to see how they’d prepared for her arrival: a Mason jar of pink tea roses by the bed and a little wooden crate of artisanal goat soap on the dresser. There was even a Quan Yin—a jade one with a sweet smile—though that might have always been there. She set down her suitcase with an appreciative sigh. “Perfect.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Hardly.”
She turned and laid her head against his chest. “No, Mouse … I appreciate it more than you can know.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. She wondered how much trouble she had caused. Ben had seemed all right about it, but it was sometimes hard to read the emotions behind that gap-toothed Huck Finn smile.
“You can put your suitcase there,” Michael said, indicating the only patch of unoccupied floor in the room. “And there’s a rod in the bathroom where you can hang stuff. If there’s not enough room, let me know. We can hang it in the house.”
She assured him she was fine, that she planned to live as simply as possible during her
Similar Books
