City of Night (Rechy, John) by Rechy John

Author:Rechy, John [Rechy, John]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Grove Press
Published: 1994-01-12T16:00:00+00:00

2

On the table, in the booth where weve been sitting since Skipper came over—mysetf and the fatman on one side, Skipper and the skinny man on the other—there are the empty bottles of beer, empty glasses; the ashtray is crammed with smoked cigarettes like dead bugs. The mixture of beer and hard liquor Ive been drinking has worked its peculiar magic on me: I feel alertly high: The world now seems compressed into this immediate spot, as if in a giant painting everything but one tiny area has been blocked out—and the unblocked area is now in sharp focus, locked for minute observation. And as usual in that state, I feel tied in fascination to the scene.... The dim smoky figures beyond this booth have retreated farther and farther into the amber darkness of the bar.

“And then what happened?” The fatman has been questioning Skipper with the tone of voice one would use to goad a child to relate a fantastic story for the amusement of adults listening with mock interest—the child, unaware of being used, becoming more and more responsive to the attention.

I know that, sober, Skipper would have left long ago—as I would have left—but in the willing surrender to drunkenness, he is answering the fatman’s questions as if testifying in his own defense. Sitting next to Skipper, the skinny man has completely abandoned his previous role of novice. He has given in, under the impact of the liquor and the fatman’s brutal attack, to the life the fatman has badgered him into. Watching him-his skinny form propped there resignedly against the brownish leather of the booth—I feel even more sorry for him now— now that the pose which up to tonight had made his existence more easily possible has collapsed under the ramming words of the fatman. The fatman, aware of his triumph there, has pushed the skinny man into the background. Now he is questioning Skipper with the certainty of a prosecutor interrogating a witness who has already confessed.

“So then what happened?” the fatman repeats: He sits there, a giant caricature of Buddha. He has been sipping one drink since we sat here; and he holds that drink cupped in his fat-hand as if it were his sobriety, which for the purposes of tonight he was guarding.

Skipper mutters: “Yeah, well, see—it was just after I got outta the marines—and I met this guy in L.A. And I—”

“Louder,” the fatman says. “I cant hear you.”

Skipper raised his voice. Hes creating the familiar circles on the table with the watery glass. “I knew this guy in L.A.—see —that I stayed with. . . . See, when I got outta the service, I made this Main Street scene. I met—lots of guys—you know -go with them—hang around here—Main Street—all the time.... Thats when I met this guy—right here, too, right here at Harry’s was where I met him.”

“Oh?” the fatman says. He never removes the cigar from his mouth, except when it becomes a stub, and then he seems

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.