afternoon we’d been piling up for ourselves exploded.
He grabbed her, shook his own Coke, held his thumb over it, and began popping it in her face as fast as he could get the pressure up. She squealed and pulled away and Lina whooped and held her. Then he tore her suit open and slopped Coke all over her and she did the same for him. Then her suit slipped off and she had nothing on but fat, that shook all over her. Still he kept throwing Coke. Then she got loose and dodged all around. Then she ran in the bedroom and he ran in after her and slammed the door. Lina beckoned me, tiptoed over, opened the door on a crack, and peeped. You could hear them in there, but what made me sick was the look on Lina’s face as she watched them, her mouth wet, her eyes shining, and her breath coming in little short gasps.
“What’s the matter, don’t he like me?”
“Listen, Lina, take it easy. He’s not a horse, see? In the first place you kept him swimming around out there, right on top of all that stuff he put in his stomach, and—”
“What stuff?”
“Sandwiches. Pickles. Ginger ale.”
“What was wrong with that?”
“It was swell. But in the second place, it’s hot—”
“It is, Coolidge, but he’s not. What ails him?”
“Hell, he’s just a kid—”
“Oh, I am, am I?”
When the other two showed, it was our turn in the bedroom, Lina’s and mine, that seemed to be the idea, and Denny’s and Fats’s turn at the keyhole, no doubt. But my imagination didn’t run on that track. Nice made as Lina was, much as I’d liked the swimming, I could no more have gone through with it the way it was being done that afternoon than I could have flown. And the sorer she got the greener I turned, as I could see by the mirror back of the counter, but I couldn’t want her, to save my neck. When Denny made his crack about my being a kid I meant to take a poke at him, but I never got that far. Two steps from my table and I had to dive out the door. There by the car everything came up, ham, bread, pop, and girl. When I got back I knew she’d been told, my real age, I mean, because she stared at me with tears shaking in her eyes, partly from rage at me, partly from pity for herself, that she’d been kidded and didn’t know it. In a minute she picked up my clothes and threw them out. “Get that sick pup out of here!”
Now, as I tell it, it all seems simple enough, and if I couldn’t take it, the wild afternoon the other three had got started on, I guess I don’t mind, looking back at it. I wouldn’t like it, if I had chased her around, torn off her suit, and dragged her in the bedroom, with Denny and Fats at the door. But at that time nothing was simple. Here all summer we’d done nothing but chase girls, not knowing how very well, but hoping. And here at last we’d bumped into exactly what we were looking for: a pair of trollops pretty enough for what we wanted, and trampy enough that they wouldn’t get big ideas in their heads of what they had coming to them afterwards. And they had the time and the place, which were slightly more important than we had any idea of. And then I whiffed out like a wet match. Doing it in front of Denny was bad enough. But that crack of hers, about the sick pup, was the worst of all. Something seemed wrong with me, and not knowing what it was, feeling like some part of a man was left out of me, bothered me, and bothered me plenty. After that I didn’t go out much. Fact of the matter I didn’t go out at all. I found the Old Man’s library, that had been there all the time, and started reading. I read Thackeray and Dickens and Bennett and Wells and Conrad and Hergesheimer and Lewis. There was a lot in their books about what was worrying me, and for a while I wasn’t too proud to get educated second-hand.
7
T HE FOOTBALL WAS AN accident, and as you might expect, came from some ideas Denny got. The day after the big afternoon on the bay he was due to leave for Frederick, but
He grabbed her, shook his own Coke, held his thumb over it, and began popping it in her face as fast as he could get the pressure up. She squealed and pulled away and Lina whooped and held her. Then he tore her suit open and slopped Coke all over her and she did the same for him. Then her suit slipped off and she had nothing on but fat, that shook all over her. Still he kept throwing Coke. Then she got loose and dodged all around. Then she ran in the bedroom and he ran in after her and slammed the door. Lina beckoned me, tiptoed over, opened the door on a crack, and peeped. You could hear them in there, but what made me sick was the look on Lina’s face as she watched them, her mouth wet, her eyes shining, and her breath coming in little short gasps.
“What’s the matter, don’t he like me?”
“Listen, Lina, take it easy. He’s not a horse, see? In the first place you kept him swimming around out there, right on top of all that stuff he put in his stomach, and—”
“What stuff?”
“Sandwiches. Pickles. Ginger ale.”
“What was wrong with that?”
“It was swell. But in the second place, it’s hot—”
“It is, Coolidge, but he’s not. What ails him?”
“Hell, he’s just a kid—”
“Oh, I am, am I?”
When the other two showed, it was our turn in the bedroom, Lina’s and mine, that seemed to be the idea, and Denny’s and Fats’s turn at the keyhole, no doubt. But my imagination didn’t run on that track. Nice made as Lina was, much as I’d liked the swimming, I could no more have gone through with it the way it was being done that afternoon than I could have flown. And the sorer she got the greener I turned, as I could see by the mirror back of the counter, but I couldn’t want her, to save my neck. When Denny made his crack about my being a kid I meant to take a poke at him, but I never got that far. Two steps from my table and I had to dive out the door. There by the car everything came up, ham, bread, pop, and girl. When I got back I knew she’d been told, my real age, I mean, because she stared at me with tears shaking in her eyes, partly from rage at me, partly from pity for herself, that she’d been kidded and didn’t know it. In a minute she picked up my clothes and threw them out. “Get that sick pup out of here!”
Now, as I tell it, it all seems simple enough, and if I couldn’t take it, the wild afternoon the other three had got started on, I guess I don’t mind, looking back at it. I wouldn’t like it, if I had chased her around, torn off her suit, and dragged her in the bedroom, with Denny and Fats at the door. But at that time nothing was simple. Here all summer we’d done nothing but chase girls, not knowing how very well, but hoping. And here at last we’d bumped into exactly what we were looking for: a pair of trollops pretty enough for what we wanted, and trampy enough that they wouldn’t get big ideas in their heads of what they had coming to them afterwards. And they had the time and the place, which were slightly more important than we had any idea of. And then I whiffed out like a wet match. Doing it in front of Denny was bad enough. But that crack of hers, about the sick pup, was the worst of all. Something seemed wrong with me, and not knowing what it was, feeling like some part of a man was left out of me, bothered me, and bothered me plenty. After that I didn’t go out much. Fact of the matter I didn’t go out at all. I found the Old Man’s library, that had been there all the time, and started reading. I read Thackeray and Dickens and Bennett and Wells and Conrad and Hergesheimer and Lewis. There was a lot in their books about what was worrying me, and for a while I wasn’t too proud to get educated second-hand.
7
T HE FOOTBALL WAS AN accident, and as you might expect, came from some ideas Denny got. The day after the big afternoon on the bay he was due to leave for Frederick, but
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