Sheba by Orrie Hitt

Author:Orrie Hitt [Hitt, Orrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4405-3975-6
Publisher: Prologue Books
Published: 2012-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

9

THE rooming house was dark and the redhead was sitting with two young fellows on the porch. She and one of the boys sat on a porch swing and the other fellow sat on the floor, his legs crossed. There was a bottle and a container of ice between them, and the redhead was giggling.

“You fresh thing,” she was saying. “You’ve got the wandering hands of a gypsy.”

“They’re no gypsy hands,” the fellow said. “They know where they’re going.”

“Well, so do I. And I don’t like it.”

“What’d you come down here for?”

“To get out of that hot room.”

The fellow on the floor laughed.

“It was hot all right,” the fellow on the floor said. “The old lady has got a pretty good shape and lots of motion.”

Sheba started across the porch and the redhead squealed.

“Hiya, honey.”

“Hi,” Sheba said.

“Drink?”

“Thanks, no.”

“Aw, come on.”

Sheba paused at the door. She had heard her father say that some nights you could drink and drink and hardly feel them while other times just a few would put you down and out. She guessed this night was one of the former.

“Well, just one,” she said.

The redhead slapped at the fellow’s hands and the swing squeaked as she crossed her legs.

“Fix her a drink,” she said to the fellow sitting on the floor. “And give her the works.”

Sheba walked over and leaned against the railing. There was a breeze coming up from the direction of the river and it smelled fresh and clean. For a second she was able to smell the flowers at the side of the house and then the scent was gone.

“Well, well,” the fellow said from the swing. “The more they come the better they look.”

The young man sitting on the floor looked up at Sheba.

“You’ve got nice legs,” he said. “Are they that good all the way up?”

The redhead made a pass at him with one hand but she missed.

“You shut up,” she said. “Just pour the goodies.” Her blouse was unbuttoned part way down the front and she began to button it. “This is Roger,” she said, indicating the fellow beside her. “And that’s Toby doing the honors.” She laughed. “Hell, I don’t even know your name.”

“Sheba.”

“I’m Monica. Monica Sims.” She slapped at Roger as he went for her again. “Roger, Sheba. Sheba, Toby.” Her voice rose. “Drink up and be merry, for Pete’s sake.”

“Here’s your primer,” Toby said, handing the glass to Sheba. “Pure gin.”

“Gin?”

“It’s good for the nerves, good for the soul. Half a jug of this and you’d run down Main Street naked.”

“Not me.”

“Not you? Are you different from the others? This is good stuff.”

Sheba leaned against the railing, making a face as she drank the gin. Both Roger and Toby were from the college outside of town and she didn’t like either one of them. They were typical wise guys, out to get what they could for as little as possible.

“I’ll bet the seams of your stockings aren’t straight all the way up,” Roger said to her. “I’ll bet they get crooked just above your knees.

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