The Bell Tolls for No One by Charles Bukowski Read Free Book Online

good highs off them.
    Then they found the hoe under my bed. I was called in Dr. McLain’s office.
    â€œSit down, Bukowski.”
    He pulled out the hoe and sat it on the desk. I looked at the hoe.
    â€œWhat were you doing with this under your bed?” he asked.
    â€œIt’s mine,” I said. “I found it out in the yard.”
    â€œWhat were you going to do with this hoe?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œWhy did you bring it from the yard?”
    â€œI found it there. I put it under my bed.”
    â€œYou know we can’t let you have things like that, Bukowski.”
    â€œIt’s just a hoe.”
    â€œWe realize that it is a hoe.”
    â€œWhat do you want with it, doctor?”
    â€œI don’t want it.”
    â€œThen give it back. It’s mine . I found it in the yard.”
    â€œYou can’t have it. Come with me.”
    The doctor had a male nurse with him. They walked up to my bed. The male nurse opened the doors of my bedstand.
    â€œWell, look at this!” said the doctor. “Bukowski’s got a regular pharmacy here! Do you have a prescription for this stuff, Bukowski?”
    â€œNo, but I’m saving it. It’s mine. I found it.”
    â€œDump it out, Mickey,” the doctor said.
    The male nurse pulled up a trash can and threw it all in there.
    I was denied my juice for the next three nights. Sometimes they were quite unfair, I thought.
    It wasn’t very hard to get out. I just climbed a wall and dropped to the other side. I was barefooted and in my gown. I walked down to the bus stop, waited, and when the bus stopped I got on. The driver said, “Where’s your money?”
    â€œI don’t have any,” I answered.
    â€œHe’s a looney,” somebody said.
    The bus was moving. “ Who’s a looney?” I asked. “Who said I was a looney?”
    Nobody answered.
    â€œThey took my juice because of a hoe. I’m not staying there.”
    I walked down and sat next to a woman.
    â€œLet’s make it, baby!” I said.
    She turned away. I reached out and pulled her breast. She screamed.
    â€œHey, look, fellow!”
    â€œSomebody call me?”
    â€œI did.”
    I looked around. It was a big guy.
    â€œYou leave that woman alone,” he told me.
    I got up and hit him in the mouth. When he rolled from his seat I kicked his head two or three times, and although I didn’t have shoes on, I never cut my toenails.
    â€œOh, God oh Mighty, help, help!” he screamed.
    I pulled the bus cord. When the bus stopped, I got out the back door. I walked into a drugstore. I picked up a pack of smokes from the counter, found some matches and lit a cigarette.
    There was a little girl in there, about seven, with her mother. “Look at that funny man!” the girl said to her mother.
    â€œLeave the man alone, Daphine.”
    â€œI’m God,” I told the little girl.
    â€œMommy! That man says he’s God! Is he God, Mommy?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” said Mama.
    I walked up to the little girl, lifted her dress and pinched her behind. The little girl screamed. Mama screamed. I walked out of the drugstore. It was a hot day in early September. The little girl had had on nice blue panties. I looked down upon my body and grinned as the sky fell down. I had a whole day before I decided to go back or not.

Dancing Nina
    N ina was what you might call a flirt, a vamp. Her hair was long, her eyes strange and cruel, but she knew how to kiss and dance. And when she kissed and danced, she had a way of offering herself to every man that few women had. That made up for a lot of deficiencies and Nina had a hell of a lot of deficiencies.
    But Nina was what she was.
    She was a tease. She’d almost rather tease than do the actual thing. What Nina lacked was the ability to choose—she simply couldn’t tell a good man from a bad one. The American female, in general, has this same frailty.