© Шитова Л. Ф., адаптация, сокращение, словарь, 2023

© ООО «ИД «Антология», 2023

Chapter 1

They threw me off the hay truck about noon. I had got into it the night before, at the border, and as soon as I got there, I went to sleep. I needed much of that, after three weeks in Mexico, and I was still getting it when they pulled off to one side to let the engine cool. Then they saw a foot sticking out and threw me off. I tried some joke, but all I got was a cigarette and I hiked down the road to find something to eat.

That was when I saw this Twin Oaks Tavern. It was nothing but a roadside sandwich joint, like a million others in California. There was a lunchroom part, and over that a house part, where they lived, and off to one side a filling station. I went in there in a hurry and began looking down the road. When the Greek came up, I asked if a guy had been by in a Cadillac. He was to meet me here, I said, and we were to have lunch. Not today, said the Greek. He layed a place at one of the tables and asked me what I was going to have. I said orange juice, corn flakes, fried eggs and bacon, and coffee. Pretty soon he came out with the orange juice and the corn flakes.

“Hold on^[1], now. One thing I got to tell you. If this guy don't come, you'll have to trust me for it. He was to pay for it, and I'm kind of short, myself^[2].”

“Hokay.”

I saw he was on^[3], and stopped talking about the guy in the Cadillac. Pretty soon I saw he wanted something.

“What you do, what kind of work, hey?”

“Oh, one thing and another. Why?”^[4]

“How old you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Young fellow, hey? I could use young fellow right now. In my business.”

“Nice place you got here.”

“Air. Is a nice. No fog, like in a Los Angeles. All a time nice a clear.”

“Must be good at night.”

“Sleep fine. You understand automobile? Fix'm up?”

“Sure. I'm a born mechanic.”

He told me some more about the air, and how healthy he's been since he bought this place, and how he can't figure it out, why his help won't stay with him.

“Hey? You think you like it here?”

By that time I had finished the coffee, and lit the cigar he gave me. “I tell you how it is. I got a couple of other propositions, that's my trouble. But I'll think about it.”

Then I saw her. She had been in the kitchen, but she came in to gather up my dishes. Except for the figure, she really wasn't any raving beauty^[5], but her lips stuck out in a way that made me want to kiss them hard.

“Meet my wife.”

She didn't look at me and just went out with the dishes. I nodded at the Greek, and that was all. I left, then, but in five minutes I was back, to leave a message for the guy in the Cadillac. A half hour later, I was in the filling station, fixing flats^[6].

“What's your name, hey?”

“Frank Chambers.”

“Nick Papadakis, mine.”

We shook hands, and he went. In a minute I heard him singing. He had a good voice.

Chapter 2

Soon a guy came along that was furious because somebody had pasted a sticker on his wind wing^[7]. I had to go in the kitchen to clean it for him.

“You got a cloth? That I can put to this thing?”

“That's not what you meant.”

“Sure it is.”

“You think I'm Mex.”

“Nothing like it.”

“Yes, you do. You're not the first one. Well, get this. I'm just as white as you are, see? I may have dark hair and look a little that way, but I'm just as white as you are.”

“Why, you don't look Mex.”

“I'm telling you. I'm just as white as you are.”

“No, you don't look even a little bit Mex. Those Mexican women, they all got big hips and legs and breasts up under their chin and yellow skin and hair that looks like it had bacon fat on it. You don't look like that. You're small, and got nice white skin, and your hair is soft and curly, even if it is black. Only thing you've got that's Mex is your teeth. They all got white teeth, you've got to hand that to them^[8].”

“My name was Smith before I was married. That don't sound much like a Mex, does it?”

“Not much.”

“What's more, I don't even come from around here.

I come from Iowa^[9].”

“Smith, hey. What's your first name?”

“Cora. You can call me that, if you want to.”

I knew for certain, that her Greek husband made her feel she wasn't white, and she was even afraid I would begin calling her Mrs. Papadakis.

“Cora. Sure. And how about calling me Frank?”

She came over and began helping me with the wind wing. She was so close I could smell her. I said it right close to her ear, almost in a whisper. “How come you married this Greek^[10], anyway?”

She jumped like I had cut her with a whip. “Is that any of your business?”

“Yeah. Plenty.”^[11]

“Here's your wind wing.”

“Thanks.”

I went out. I had what I wanted. From now on, it would be business between her and me. She might not say yes, but she wouldn't stop me. She knew what I meant.

That night at supper, the Greek got sore at her for not giving me more fried potatoes. He wanted me to like it there, and not walk out on him like the others had.

“Give a man something to eat.”

“They're right on the stove. Can't he help himself?”

“It's all right. I'm not ready yet.”

We sat at the kitchen table, he at one end, she at the other, and me in the middle. I didn't look at her. But I could see her dress. It was one of these white nurse uniforms^[12], like they all wear, whether they work in a dentist's office or a bakeshop. It had been clean in the morning, but it was a little bit dirty now. I could smell her.

“Well for heaven's sake^[13].”

She got up to get the potatoes. Her dress fell open for a second, so I could see her leg. When she gave me the potatoes, I couldn't eat. “Well there now. After all that, and now he doesn't want them.”

“Hokay. But he have'm, if he want'm^[14].”

“I'm not hungry. I ate a big lunch.”

He acted like he had won a great victory, and now he would forgive her. “She is a all right. She is my little white bird. She is my little white dove.”

He winked and went upstairs. She and I sat there, and didn't say a word. When he came down he had a big bottle and a guitar. He poured some out of the bottle, but it was sweet Greek wine, and made me sick to my stomach. He started to sing. He had a tenor voice, not one of these little tenors like you hear on the radio, but a big tenor, and on the high notes he put in a sob like on a Caruso record^[15]. But I couldn't listen to him now. I was feeling worse by the minute.

He saw my face and took me outside. “Out in a air, you feel better.”

“'S all right. I'll be all right.”

“Sit down. Keep quiet.”

“Go ahead in. I just ate too much lunch. I'll be all right.”

He went in, and I threw up. It was like hell the lunch^[16], or the potatoes, or the wine. I wanted that woman so bad^[17] I couldn't even keep anything on my stomach.

Next morning the sign was blown down. About the middle of the night it had started to blow, and by morning it was a windstorm that took the sign with it.

I kept tinkering with the sign, and he would come out and watch me. “How did you get this sign anyway?”

“Was here when I buy the place. Why?”

“It's lousy all right. I wonder you do any business at all.”

I went to gas up a car^[18], and left him to think that over. When I got back he was still looking at it. Three of the lights were broken.

“Put in new lights, hang'm up, will be all right.”

“You're the boss.”

“What's a matter with it?”

“Well, it's out of date^[19]. Nobody has bulb signs any more. They got Neon signs. They show up better. Then, what does it say? Twin Oaks, that's all. The Tavern part, it's not in lights. Well, Twin Oaks don't make me hungry. It don't make me want to stop and get something to eat.”

“Fix'm up, will be hokay.”

“Why don't you get a new sign?”

“I'm busy.”

But pretty soon he was back, with a piece of paper. He had drawn a new sign for himself, and colored it up with red, white, and blue. It said Twin Oaks Tavern, and N. Papadakis.

“Swell^[20].”

I fixed up the words, so they were spelled right.

“Nick, why do we hang up the old sign at all? Why don't you go to the city today and get this new sign made? It's a beauty, believe me it is. And it's important.”

“I do it. By golly^[21], I go.”

Los Angeles was about twenty miles away, and right after lunch, he went. Soon as he was gone, I locked the front door. I took a plate that a guy had left, and went on back in the kitchen with it. She was there.

“Here's a plate that was out there.”

“Oh, thanks.”

I put it down. The fork in her hand was rattling like a tambourine.

“I was going to go, but I started some things cooking and I thought I better not.”

“I got plenty to do, myself.”

“You feeling better?”

“I'm all right.”

“What's that?”

Somebody was out front, knocking on the door. “Sounds like somebody trying to get in.”

“Is the door locked, Frank?”

“I must have locked it.”

She looked at me, and got pale. Then she went into the lunchroom, but in a minute she was back.

“They went away.”

“I don't know why I locked it.”

“I forgot to unlock it.”

She started for the lunchroom again, but I stopped her. “Let's – leave it locked.”

“Nobody can get in if it's locked. I got some cooking to do. I'll wash up this plate.”

I took her in my arms and pressed my mouth hard against hers… “Bite me! Bite me!”

I bit her. I sunk my teeth into her lips so deep I could feel the blood flow into my mouth. It was running down her neck when I carried her upstairs.

Chapter 3

For two days after that I was dead, but the Greek was sore at me because I hadn't fixed the swing door^[22] that led from the lunchroom into the kitchen. She told him it swung back and hit her in the mouth. She had to tell him something. Her mouth was all swelled up where I had bit it. So he said it was my fault that I hadn't fixed it.

But the real reason he was sore at me was over the sign. He had fallen for it so hard^[23] he was afraid I would say it was my idea, stead of his. When it was ready I hung it up. It had on it all that he had drawn on the paper – a Greek flag and an American flag, and hands shaking hands^[24], and Satisfaction Guaranteed. It was all in red, white, and blue Neon letters, and I waited until dark to turn on the light^[25]. When I snapped the switch, it lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Well, I've seen many a sign in my time, but never one like that. I got to hand it to you, Nick.”

“By golly. By golly.”

We shook hands. We were friends again.

Next day I was alone with her for a minute.

“How are you, Cora?”

“Lousy.”

From then on, I began to smell her again.

One day the Greek heard there was a guy up the road undercutting him on gas^[26]. He jumped in the car to go see about it. I was in my room when he drove off, and I rushed to the kitchen. But she was already there, standing in the door.

I went over and looked at her mouth. The swelling was all gone, but you could still see the tooth marks, little blue lines on both lips. I touched them with my fingers. They were soft and damp. I kissed them, but not hard. They were little soft kisses. I had never thought about them before. She stayed until the Greek came back, about an hour. We didn't do anything. We just lay on the bed. She kept rumpling my hair, and looking up at the ceiling, like she was thinking.

“You like blueberry pie?”

“I don't know. Yeah. I guess so.”

“I'll make you some.”

“Look out, Frank. You'll break a spring leaf.”

“To hell with the spring leaf.”

We were going into a little eucalyptus grove beside the road. The Greek had sent us down to the market to take back some steaks he said were lousy, and on the way back it had got dark. I drove the car in there, but when I was in among the trees I stopped. Her arms were around me before I even cut the lights. We did plenty. After a while we just sat there. “I can't go on like this, Frank.”

“Me neither^[27].”

“I can't stand it. And I've got to get drunk with you, Frank. You know what I mean? Drunk.”

“I know.”

“And I hate that Greek.”

“Why did you marry him? You never did tell me that.”

“I haven't told you anything.”

“We haven't wasted any time on talk.”

“I was working in a hash house. You spend two years in a Los Angeles hash house and you'll take the first guy that's got a gold watch.”

“When did you leave Iowa?”

“Three years ago. I won a beauty contest. I won a high school beauty contest, in Des Moines^[28]. That's where I lived. The prize was a trip to Hollywood. And two weeks later I was in the hash house.”

“Did you get in movies?”

“They gave me a test. It was all right in the face. But they talk, now.^[29] And when I began to talk, up there on the screen, they knew me for what I was^[30], and so did I. A cheap Des Moines trollop, that had as much chance in pictures as a monkey has. Not as much. A monkey, anyway, can make you laugh. All I did was make you sick^[31].”

“And then?”

“Then two years of guys pinching your leg and leaving nickel tips^[32] and asking how about a little party tonight. I went on some of them parties, Frank.”

“And then?”

“You know what I mean about them parties?”

“I know.”

“Then he came along. I took him and meant to stay by him. But I can't stand it anymore. God, do I look like a little white bird?”

“To me, you look more like a hell cat.”

“That's one thing about you. I don't have to fool you all the time. And you're clean. You're not greasy. Frank, do you have any idea what that means?”

“I can kind of imagine.”

“I don't think so. He makes me sick at the stomach when he touches me. I'm not really such a hell cat, Frank. I just can't stand it anymore.”

“Cora, how about you and me going away?”

“I've thought about it. A lot.”

“We'll leave this Greek and go away.”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere. What do we care?”^[33]

“Anywhere. You know where that is?”

“All over^[34]. Anywhere we choose.”