Seven Deadly Pleasures by Michael Aronovitz Read Free Book Online Page B

the buildings closed in on each other. Long zigzagged cracks in the sidewalks sprouted gnarled clumps of weeds, street signs were bent at odd angles, and plywood-covered doorways wore layers of unintelligible graffiti. I took my eyes off the road for a moment to flick an ash and almost slammed an old woman jaywalking a group of young girls to the Flemmings Ballet School on the far corner. I screeched my brakes and she glanced back at me with a sour look of distaste. I rolled down my window.
    "Hey, pelican face," I said. "Next time, move your fat, wrinkled ass! Don't you have a duty to die or something?"
    There was a spatter of laughter from the children and I drove on feeling lower than dirt.
    I hurtled down the one-way, straight into the side of town most broken-down. Garbage bags billowed from the paneless windows of dirty tenements. The wind had knocked over a few recycling bins, and they barrel-rolled at the front of an alley like cars on a short-circuited Tilt-a-Whirl ride. Across the street, a pit-bull on a chain gnashed and slammed against a rusted, diamond-link fence.
    I cursed out loud.
    A block ahead I could see the two hookers that worked the corner of Fifth and Walsh. Tina and I passed the pair every day and had slowly numbed ourselves to them, made the whole thing into a joke. We even gave them nicknames. Thelma and Louise.
    Today, Thelma had on her Friday colors, black mini and heels with both legs sporting a roadmap of purple bruises. Louise, the stockier one with fire-red hair hanging in dreads, boasted yellow hot pants and a matching bikini top. The girls looked feisty. They were in the middle of the street prepared to block traffic.
    I drove between them just fast enough to make them shove over, and couldn't help but forfeit a grin.
    They howled.
    "Look at him with the piss-face laughing," Thelma said.
    "Where's the little woman?" Louise said. "Come back here, baby. Ain't there something you want to ask me?"
    I slammed on the brakes. I couldn't help it. I threw the car into reverse and squealed backward to a halt. Thelma approached, and the car behind me honked long and loud.
    "Go around, muthafuckah," she shouted. "This is business!" He put on his signal and squeezed around like a good little boy.
    "Hey there, sugar," she said into my face, arms folded on the lower window rim. Her breath stank of peppermint Dentyne and stale gin.
    "There's something I always wanted to know," I said. "How much for what?"
    She grinned brown, crooked teeth.
    "I got two programs, sweet thing. Regular and High Octane."
    "What's Regular?"
    "For a hundred dollars we go to a room above the Y across the street. I light a cigarette and put it in the ash tray. Then you get to possess this body like the Devil himself, but when the smoke gets down to the filter, your time be over."
    "And what's High Octane?"
    She reached in and slipped a hand under my lapel to rub my chest.
    "Not recommended for a little punk like you. The only thing left would be your belt buckle and a puddle of sweat."
    There was a clunking sound and my car bowed down in front. It was Louise, crawling on all fours up the hood. She slipped down a strap and popped out her breast.
    Thelma's hand became a strange shape under my suit jacket, and she made a play at stealing the gold Cross pen in my pocket.
    "Hey!" I said. I pressed the heel of my hand to her forehead and pushed. She fell backward on shaky heels and landed butt to the asphalt. I hit the gas and Louise smacked the glass cheek-first before rolling off to the right. I burned rubber and eyed the rearview. Thelma was in the street shouting obscenities. Louise was looking for something to throw. I sped away as if the hounds of Satan were snapping at my tires.
    Something was burning. It was the smell of tobacco and smoking fiber. I had dropped my lit cigarette during the scuffle and something was burning and my crotch was on fire!
    I spun the wheel to the left and peeled curbside behind an old abandoned Buick that