The Delphi Room by Melia McClure Read Free Book Online Page B

take the fruit rollups and stay upstairs.
    MOTHER
    Good girl.
    (pause)
    Do I look fat?
    INT. BRINKLEY’S HELL—MIRROR—
VELVET’S CHILDHOOD HOME—BEDROOM—NIGHT
    Velvet sits on the floor of her bedroom, with three red fruit rollups draped across her lap. She points and flexes her nail polish-flowered feet.
    VELVET
    Rather fetching, don’t you think, Delilah?
    Her mother’s raucous laughter, together with a deep male voice, drifts up the stairs to Velvet’s ears.
    INT. BRINKLEY’S HELL—MIRROR—
VELVET’S CHILDHOOD HOME—KITCHEN—CONTINUOUS
    A short white candle cries waxy tears down an empty wine bottle on the kitchen table. The sky-blue blueness of Velvet’s mother’s T-shirt dress looks icy in the candlelight as it melts over an epicure’s wobbling flesh. The woman herself is seated at the table, smoke from her cigarette curling upward like a prayer. The man with olive skin also smokes, the pungent stream from his cigar rising alongside her offering in a competition for benediction. Both drink whisky.
    The Mae West look-alike (sans platinum locks), scrapes her fingers on the bottom of her empty chocolate mousse bowl, without looking at it, as though she’s trying to read some sort of culinary Braille. Every once in a while she sticks them in her mouth and sucks, relishing the scant vestiges of dessert.
    Olive Man is telling a story and Mae/Mother laughs all through it, choking on her drink and spitting some back in her glass.

    OLIVE MAN
    You all right, honey?
    Mae West nods, still choking. Olive Man pours the last of the whisky into his tumbler and downs it in a swallow. She stumbles out of her chair and onto his lap, straddling him. She grabs one of his hair-covered hands and places it on her breast.
    MAE/MOTHER
    (coughing)
    Wanna go upstairs? My daughter’s asleep.

    OLIVE MAN
    You have a daughter?
    INT. BRINKLEY’S HELL—MIRROR—VELVET’S CHILDHOOD HOME—BEDROOM—CONTINUOUS
    Velvet rips her red fruit rollups into little strips and begins braiding them. The sounds of Mae/Mother’s choking laughter and Olive Man’s baritonic slurs surge in a cacophonous tide up the stairs. The fruit leather tapestry needs no attention—the stylist is adept—and so Velvet focuses her gaze on the black outside her window, on the moon hung like a congealed and sculpted tear.
    VELVET
    (sings softly)
    “Two drifters, off to see the world
    There’s such a lot of world to see . . .”
    MAE/MOTHER
    (O.S.)
    I get these fucking headaches. Night after night.
    There is a loud thump.
    MAE/MOTHER
    (O.S) (laughing)
    Get off! Wait ’til we get upstairs. Ssshhh! You’ll wake up my daughter!
    Velvet stuffs all her fruit rollup braids in her mouth, but doesn’t chew them. She crawls to her door, which is ajar, and peers into the hallway.

    INT. BRINKLEY’S HELL—MIRROR—VELVET’S CHILDHOOD HOME—UPSTAIRS HALLWAY—CONTINUOUS
    Mae/Mother crawls up the last couple of stairs with Olive Man on top of her, pulling off her dress.
    MAE/MOTHER
    (loudly)
    Holy fuck! I think I’m . . . a little tipsy!
    She is naked, and Olive Man’s shirt hangs open. He is pulling off his belt.
    MAE/MOTHER
    Ssshhh! Be quiet!
    Olive Man dives on top of her, wraps his belt around her neck.
    MAE/MOTHER
    Ow! Watch it! Oh yeah . . .
    (laughs)
    “A hard man is good to find!” I’m quoting! That’s a quote!
    Velvet watches, half hidden by her door. Fruit rollup braids sprout from her mouth.
    Mae/Mother pulls off the belt.
    MAE/MOTHER
    Wait! Inside, inside! No!
    (laughs)
    Bed, I said bed! Ssshhh! Quiet!
    A cuckoo clock on the wall explodes in a frenzy of squawking, sounding the discordant hour.
    MAE/MOTHER
    Shit! I hate that fucking clock!
    Olive Man devours her mouth. His pants have come down around his knees. The watchbird on the wall continues to crow.
    MAE/MOTHER
    (between kisses)
    Shut . . . the . . . fuck . . . up . . . you . . . stupid . . . bird! Oh!
    Olive Man’s underwear goes south. His buttocks are