Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr by Hubert Selby Jr. Read Free Book Online Page A

honey,
and she flourished her wrist and tapped Vinnie on the knee. Lee
continued to rank Harry, but he was getting frightfully nasty and Lee
started getting nervous and asked Goldie to turn on the radio and get
some music. Goldie tuned in a jazz program and they slowly relaxed
with the tea and the music. Harry wanted to open a window, but the
guys said nothing and the queens frowned so he sat still, sipping his
drink and watching Lee. Goldie watched Malfies eyes fog, then stared
at his chest as it swelled with the beating of his heart, told him he
may as well take his shirt off as having it hanging open like that,
then watched his flesh move and shine with sweat, loving the small
mat of hair between his breasts and the sweat rolling down and into
the mat. Rosie had been knocking on the door for almost a minute
before Lee, annoyed with the manner in which Miss Goldie was ogling
Maine, got up in a huff and opened the door. She took the gin from
Rosie, put it on the table in the living room, took four more bennie
and a glass of hot bouillon and sat down, disgusted, and tried to
withdraw as far as possible from the sordid party. Cant even take a
few bennie and a little pot without simply drifting off. How
ridiculous. I must say Georgette that I dont think much of these men
friends of yours. I thought they were hip. Goldie heard, but didnt
bother to look at her and continued to stare at Malfie, thinking of
how wonderful it was that they werent used to bennie (getting kicks
too from turning them (him) on), and waiting for the time to fly, as
it does when youre up on bennie, and stop with her and Malfie.
Georgette went to the kitchen, brought back a bowl of ice and a
bottle of mixer, and filled hers and Vinnies glasses. There is no
need to worry Miss Lee. They dont want to have anything to do with
the likes of you. Vinnie was digging the conversation, but was goofed
with the tea and didnt bother to say anything, and just took the
drink from Georgette and looked over his glass at Lee, letting the
smoke come slowly from his nose, and gave her a gee look until Lee
turned her head then Vinnie pursed his lips at Camille and smiled,
glowing inside at the fear in her eyes. Dont worry chippy, nobodys
gonna hurtya. Maybe fuckya a little—Georgette asked him for a
cigarette and he told her ta smoke her own and she fumbled for a
moment until she was certain he was finished speaking to Camille,
then found them.
    Rosie sucked at a glass of gin, sitting at Goldies
feet, and Georgette worried about Vinnie going with one of the other
girls and what they would say if he did . . . then stopped worrying
about what they might say but simply about keeping them away from
him. She wanted them to think he was her lover, but more than that
she wanted him as her lover. Even if only once. If only that. She
took another bennie with her gin and listened to the music. The Bird
was playing. She tilted her head toward the radio and listened to the
hard sounds piling up on each other, yet not touching, wanting to
hold Vinnies hand, the strange beautiful sounds (bennie, tea and gin
too) moving her to a strange romance where love was born of
affection, not sex; wanting to share just this, just these three
minutes of the Bird with Vinnie, these three minutes out of space and
time and just stand together, perhaps their hands touching, not
speaking, yet knowing ... just stand complete with and for each other
not as man and woman or two men, not as friends or lovers, but as two
who love . . . these three minutes together in a world of beauty, a
world where there wasnt even a memory of johns or punks, butch queens
or Arthurs, just the now of love . . .
    and the strange rhythms of the Bird ripped to her,
the piling patterns of sound all falling properly and articulately
into place, and there was no wonderment at the Bird blowing love.
    Then it was over and the background music came in and
Georgette looked up and her eyes cleared as she saw the sick look in
Harrys eyes as