The Men's Club by Leonard Michaels

Author:Leonard Michaels [Leonard Michaels]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781907970856
Publisher: Daunt Books
Published: 2016-05-14T16:00:00+00:00

Kramer said, ‘Anybody want some coffee?’

Berliner said, ‘Your pants around your ankles. I see it. I see it, man. You’re sitting in the car with your pants around your ankles. That’s a scream.’

‘Yeah,’ said Paul, looking at Berliner with a dim light of pleasure, sharing the scream.

‘But why is your story like mine?’

‘The cars.’

‘The cars?’

‘She was sad. We went to her car. Then she was happy.’

Berliner said nothing. Paul glanced at me. ‘No?’

‘Maybe it is,’ I said, not knowing what is or isn’t. Berliner muttered, ‘She used you.’

‘Yeah. You’re right. That’s what I mean.’

Cavanaugh said, ‘You shouldn’t tell that story. There are stories nobody should tell.’

‘It’s what happened. It’s not a story. My wife left town and this woman laid me.’

‘Cavanaugh is kidding you,’ said Terry. ‘I’m glad you told it. What happened when your wife got home?’

‘Your pants around your ankles,’ said Berliner, laughing.

‘It’s a scream.’

‘I was happy when my wife got home. She said, “You horny or something?” She expected me to be mad at her. She said, “You horny? It’s only been two weeks.” I said, “Let’s go to bed.” She said, “It’s the middle of the day. The house is a mess.” I said, “Please.” She said, “I have too much to do.” We spent the afternoon in bed. I was happy she was home and that’s the truth.’

‘You weren’t lonely anymore,’ I said.

Paul began fixing himself another marijuana. ‘When she’s around, I don’t have to try to live.’

‘Well, I don’t know about you guys,’ said Cavanaugh, smiling and surly, as if Berliner and Paul, in their stories, had reproached him. ‘But I love to do it. I’ve driven to other cities, my pickup loaded with camping equipment. Sarah thinks I’m going to the Snake River to fish. I’m driving to Denver to fuck.’

Paul said, ‘You know how to live. Drive to Denver … That’s cool. If I tried it, I’d have an accident, go off a cliff or something.’

Terry, looking at Cavanaugh, said, ‘They used to call a person like you oversexed. You’d drive to Denver? Must be twenty hours. More.’

‘It’s fun.’

‘Driving to Denver?’

‘The sex.’

Terry scowled. ‘It makes you laugh?’

Cavanaugh laughed. Berliner laughed at him.

Terry said, ‘Sex is serious, but I’m sure it could be other things. For imbeciles it could be fun. Not for a man like you, Cavanaugh.’

‘It’s fun,’ said Cavanaugh.

Berliner shouted, ‘Paul got his dick crushed. That’s fun.’ Laughing teeth and gums, his head snapped on a whiplike spine.

Cavanaugh, lifting his wineglass, talked to it. ‘Life,’ he said. Then said, ‘Life is thirst.’ Nobody was listening. He drank his thirst.

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