For two days after that I was dead, but the Greek was sore at me, so I got by all right. He was sore at me because I hadn’t fixed the swing door 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. I stretched the spring, so it was weaker, and that fixed it.
But the real reason he was sore at me was over the sign. He had fallen for it so hard he was afraid I would say it was my idea, stead of his. It was such a hell of a sign they couldn’t get it done for him that afternoon. It took them three days, and when it was ready I went in and got it and hung it up. It had on it all that he had drew on the paper, and a couple of other things besides. It had a Greek flag and an American flag, and hands shaking hands, and Satisfaction Guaranteed. It was all in red, white, and blue Neon letters, and I waited until dark to turn on the juice. 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, and swung my fist up against her leg so hard it nearly knocked her over.
“How do you get that way?” She was snarling like a cougar. I liked her like that.
“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. He jumped in the car to go see about it. I was in my room when he drove off, and I turned around to dive down in the kitchen. But she was already there, standing in the door.
I went over and looked at her mouth. It was the first chance I had had to see how it was. The swelling was all gone, but you could still see the tooth marks, little blue creases 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 crashing into a little eucalyptus grove beside the road. The Greek had sent us down to the market to take back some T-bone steaks he said were lousy, and on the way back it had got dark. I slammed the car in there, and it bucked and bounced, 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.”
“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. That’s where I lived. The prize was a trip to Hollywood. I got off the Chief with fifteen guys taking my picture, and two weeks later I was in the hash house.”
“Didn’t you go back?”
“I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”
“Did you get in movies?”
“They gave me a test. It was all right in the face. But they talk, now. The pictures, I mean. And when I began to talk, up there on the screen, they knew me for what I was, 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.”
“And then?”
“Then two years of guys pinching your leg and leaving nickel tips 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 so help me, I meant to stick by him. But I can’t stand it any more. God, do I look like a little white bird?”
“To me, you look more like a hell cat.”
“You know, don’t you. 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? You’re not greasy.”
“I can kind of imagine.”
“I don’t think so. No man can know what that means to a woman. To have to be around somebody that’s greasy and makes you sick at the stomach when he touches you. I’m not really such a hell cat, Frank. I just can’t stand it any more.”
“What are you trying to do? Kid me?”
“Oh, all right. I’m a hell cat, then. But I don’t think I would be so bad. With somebody that wasn’t greasy.”
“Cora, how about you and me going away?”
“I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it a lot.”
“We’ll ditch this Greek and blow. Just blow.”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere. What do we care?”
“Anywhere. Anywhere. You know where that is?”
“All over. Anywhere we choose.”
“No it’s not. It’s the hash house.”
“I’m not talking about the hash house. I’m talking about the road. It’s fun, Cora. And nobody knows it better than I do. I know every twist and turn it’s got. And I know how to work it, too. Isn’t that what we want? Just to be a pair of tramps, like we really are?”
“You were a fine tramp. You didn’t even have socks.”
“You liked me.”
“I loved you. I would love you without even a shirt. I would love you specially without a shirt, so I could feel how nice and hard your shoulders are.”
“Socking railroad detectives developed the muscles.”
“And you’re hard all over. Big and tall and hard. And your hair is light. You’re not a little soft greasy guy with black kinky hair that he puts bay rum on every night.”
“That must be a nice smell.”
“But it won’t do, Frank. That road, it don’t lead anywhere but to the hash house. The hash house for me, and some job like it for you. A lousy parking lot job, where you wear a smock. I’d cry if I saw you in a smock, Frank.”
“Well?”
She sat there a long time, twisting my hand in both of hers. “Frank, do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love me so much that not anything matters?”
“Yes.”
“There’s one way.”
“Did you say you weren’t really a hell cat?”
“I said it, and I mean it. I’m not what you think I am, Frank. I want to work and be something, that’s all. But you can’t do it without love. Do you know that, Frank? Anyway, a woman can’t. Well, I’ve made one mistake. And I’ve got to be a hell cat, just once, to fix it. But I’m not really a hell cat, Frank.”
“They hang you for that.”
“Not if you do it right. You’re smart, Frank. I never fooled you for a minute. You’ll think of a way. Plenty of them have. Don’t worry. I’m not the first woman that had to turn hell cat to get out of a mess.”
“He never did anything to me. He’s all right.”
“The hell he’s all right. He stinks, I tell you. He’s greasy and he stinks. And do you think I’m going to let you wear a smock, with Service Auto Parts printed on the back, Thank-U Call Again, while he has four suits and a dozen silk shirts? Isn’t that business half mine? Don’t I cook? Don’t I cook good? Don’t you do your part?”
“You talk like it was all right.”
“Who’s going to know if it’s all right or not, but you and me?”
“You and me.”
“That’s it, Frank. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Not you and me and the road, or anything else but you and me.”
“You must be a hell cat, though. You couldn’t make me feel like this if you weren’t.”
“That’s what we’re going to do. Kiss me, Frank. On the mouth.”
I kissed her. Her eyes were shining up at me like two blue stars. It was like being in church.