I walk up and down Bourbon Street. Aimlessly. Not knowing where to go. I am tired of it with Jacques. I won't go back to Armand's. The walls of the room press in on me there. I am sick of the smell of wine. It is not enough with any of them. I need something more. More than Rae too. I wish that I could fly away from it all. But I cannot. I am a small bird only. Caged in. Without wings. It all oppresses me. I seek the cool breeze, the sun, a strange new touch…
I stop in a small restaurant. for coffee, drink it rapidly, leave. I start toward Canal Street but it is a long way and my feet ache. I stand on a corner for awhile. The laughing and talking crowds hurt my ears. Convertibles zoom by, tops down, girls' hair flowing back in the wind. Trucks rumble. I walk on past the seafood place. It is almost empty inside. My throbbing feet seem to sink deeper into the concrete sidewalk with each step.
Dauphine Street. Yes, that's it. I remember her telling me. It must be only a few blocks down. I don't know the number. There must be some kind of sign. I should see one of them. There were enough of them. Ten… I'll find the place. Introduce myself. I'm Carrie. I like to be fucked. No, it doesn't matter by whom. Anyone with a prick will do.
This must be it. The poster on the window. The same dresses, suits. I recognize some of their faces. But this can't be it, there's a barber shop here. Oh I see, it's upstairs. There's the stairway. I don't know if I have the nerve just to go up. Maybe I should wait here until I see one of them coming. Say hello. Say that I was at Lorraine's and how much I enjoyed the show. Yes, that's it. I'll just walk back and forth. Not act nervous. It might take a long time but that doesn't make any difference. I don't have any place else to go.
"Waiting for somebody?"
"No, not really," I say. I smile. I recognize him as one of them. He is carrying two bags of groceries.
"Why don't you come up for some coffee?"
"All right…" He must remember me too. Could he figure it out that easily why I'm here? He's really very nice.
We climb the stairs and go in. There isn't much furniture and not any rug. Part of the floor is raised, something like a stage. I see a spotlight and a box of colored slides on a table. The black suits and pastel dresses are hung carelessly on a wardrobe at the back of the stage. There are a few chairs and several large foam rubber pads. The walls of the room are plain, a drab yellow. In one corner is a kitchen. The man sets the groceries on a table near the sink, then starts to make coffee in a blackened pot. The gas stove lights with a bang when he puts a match to it.
"Where are the others?" I ask.
"… sleeping," he says. "Most everyone likes to sleep before we start. Today especially. We had some convention people last night and everything ran late."
We drink coffee and talk. Without saying anything really about why I am here. But I know that tonight I will be with them. The others gradually come out of the bedrooms. The brunette. The girl with the white-blond hair. The man with the monster cock. The introductions are casual but everyone is friendly. I talk back and forth with them. I hear one of the women complaining in a low voice that now with me here there will be too many women. I feel like an outsider for a minute but the others hush her up.
Everyone eats. They don't eat from the same bowl of course but it bothers me that the dishes look grimy and unclean. They eat cold meat sandwiches and potato chips: Somebody fries a few hamburgers. Everyone walks around while they're eating. I'm not hungry at all and don't have anything but the coffee.
The woman who'd been complaining about me starts an argument about something she sees in the newspaper. The corners of the paper are stuck together with jelly and dried milk.."It's really awful," she says, "that doctor going to prison just for performing that abortion."
"But the girl died," one of the men says.
"Read the rest of the article," says the girl with the white-blond hair. "… he didn't even use sterile methods."
"How can he help that when it's against the law? If they made it legal, he could have done it in a hospital and wouldn't have had to worry, about that, right?"
"Still he should have been sanitary."
"It should be legal, that's what's the matter is."
"Ten years isn't enough for the bastard. Shit, if I'd have been on the jury I'd have had him hung."
"The judge decides that…"
"Why are you, all so much against abortion?" the first woman says angrily.
"We're not against it for crissake, but the man's a quack, a murderer!"
"Don't be silly, someday they'll be putting up memorials to men like that… pioneers or something."
"Shit!"
"He should be sticking pigs in a packing house."
"It's not his fault. It's all those congressmen flying off to Europe and places like that instead of staying home and passing laws we need."
"We've got enough goddamn laws."
"See what I said, you're, against it… abortion. You're as responsible for that girl's death as that doctor."
"Shit… Jesus. Is there any more coffee?"
"Just grounds. I'll put in some more water and heat it up."
"Let's talk about something else. Liz is always bringing it up about this abortion shit."
"Why don't we have the contest. Everybody guess how many got killed in the war this week."
"I already know. The report is on page three. Right under the picture of the flag."
"You're out of it then. You be the judge. Here's the paper."
"I don't need it. I remember the number for chrissake."
"Murderers! You're all really just a bunch of murderers."
"Murderers? Who says we're for the war? We're all against it. Everyone knows that."
"I'm not talking about that. I mean abortion. None of you want to legalize it and stop all these killings."
"Oh Christ, come off it… come off it will you!"
"Listen…" says one of the women who hasn't spoken before. "I'll tell you all one thing. I don't want anyone shoving his prick in my asshole tonight. I've been on that ride three nights in a row. I'm so sore, I can hardly sit."
"Or shit…"
"I'm serious."
"I don't know… we'll probably have some of them asking for their money back then. We've been telling everyone it's part of the show."
"Right, you've got to give them something wild… not just commonplace stuff."
"But. why does it always have to be me lately? I just can't take anymore of it."
"Try some Vaseline."
"I do. I fill myself full of the stuff."
"… what about Surfacaine?"
"Are you crazy? That burns too much. It'd just eat away my skin. What about you doing that part, Cheryl? Or the new girl?" '
"Not me," Cheryl says. "I had that all last week. With Rex one time too. And you know what it's like with him."
Everyone turns to me.
I feel flustered, stare straight ahead.
Frank the one who brought me upstairs comes to my rescue. "That wouldn't be fair," he says. "Not, on her first night."
Some of the others nod agreement.
Liz complains.
One of the men grunts. "Hell Liz, you didn't even go on with us the first night you were here. You just sat in the corner and watched."
"I came in on it at the end."
"Yeah, shit… when half the audience was on the floor too."
"Let's not argue about it for crissake. Why not just skip that part tonight. It's just a Tuesday. Mostly regulars will be here. They won't mind."
"That's right. Holly can give them something a little extra with a blow job on Rex. They all go for that."
At about seven everybody starts to get ready. Very matter-of-factly. A few of them tidy up, stack the dirty dishes in the sink. I help Liz and some of the men with the stage. I sweep the floor. She does something with the lights. We move the foam rubber pads forward, getting them in line with the lights. Some of the others get their costumes and go back to the bedroom to change.
"Would you like to sell the tickets?" Frank asks. "It's easy. They just come in a few at a time:"
"All right," I say.
Frank gets a small green metal box off a shelf in the closet. The tickets are in it and some loose change. "You just sit by the door and they pay as they come in," Frank says. "It's six bucks ahead, nine a couple. If you spot any lesbos, let them in as a couple. They're good about passing the word about the show. For tourists, you try to get more if they look uneasy or embarrassed. Once I got a twenty from a fat old fart and some doll he had with him. If we're lucky we'll have sixty or so tonight. That'd be about tops for a Tuesday… you have any questions?"
"No, I think I understand:"
"They'll bring in the tickets and give them tome. After we get started we don't let anyone else in. I'll go down and bolt the door. Don't worry about the pigs or anything. I can spot them. If any show, we'll just cut off and give everyone their money back. Say, you can help yourself to a dress off the rack. There should be one there that fits you. Better do it now. Everything will be starting pretty soon."
I thank him and pick out one of the dresses. It is a size too small but the best there is. I take it back to one of the bedrooms. I hesitate at the open door. There is a man in the room starting to change. The one with the huge cock.
He chuckles. "Come on in," he says. "I'm Rex. You're not going to be shy about just getting dressed, are you?"
"No…" I go in and cross the room. It is a big barn like room with two seedy looking beds and an old dresser.
I turn my back to Rex and undress quickly. I laugh at myself. It is silly to let this part of it bother me. I pull the dress over my head. In the mirror I see Rex pulling on his black pants. He isn't wearing shorts. His prick juts out, enormous, swollen, thick… I wonder if he's stiff like that because he's been looking at me. It makes me quiver to think about it. I catch his eye in the mirror. I turn away, feel myself blush a little.
"Have you done this sort of thing before?" he asks.
"Not exactly… no. I don't suppose many people have." I turn to him again. I see him tuck his cock inside his pants. "Does it ever bother you?" I ask.
"The show…? Hell no. We used to do it just for kicks. Now we make a buck. Don't worry about it, you'll do fine. After a few nights, you won't even give it a second thought. Are you ready… shall we go?"