Beebo Brinker Chronicles 3 - Women In The Shadows (13 page)

"There aren't many men stupid enough to put up with his antics as I did,” he said. “I think he might try to put the touch on me between affairs."

"Damn him!” Laura cried indignantly.

"Yes, he might try to find me. And Beebo would pace the city looking for you. But let them. We'd be through with them forever."

And Laura felt a very queer unwelcome pang for Beebo, for all that wealth of misdirected love. Jack was standing behind her now, his hands on her shoulders. “Well?” he said quietly. “Will you marry me?"

"Could I—answer you in the morning?” she asked.

"What the hell will you do tonight?"

"See Tris."

"Oh. And if she's nice, it's no to old Jack. If she's bitchy, it's yes. Right?” He said it lightly but she knew he was hurt.

"Not quite,” she said. “I want to test myself, I guess. Jack, for the first time I feel almost—almost like saying yes. But I want to see her first. Please let me."

"You don't need my permission, Mother."

"Maybe Beebo's found her already."

"Beebo's in bad shape. I lay odds she sleeps it off for a while. Even if she's found Tris she won't be in condition to do either of you much harm. Just call a cop and say she's molesting you."

Laura got up and turned to face him and they gazed at each other for some minutes in silence, “Okay, Mother,” he said. “Go. And come back mine."

She smiled and then she walked past him to the door.

* * * *

Tris was at home giving lessons when Laura got there. She had evening classes twice a week, for adults. She didn't slam the door in Laura's face, but she gave her a black look and directed her curtly to sit down and be quiet. Her delicate mouth was ever so slightly swollen.

Tris went back to work and danced with her pupils for another forty minutes without a word or a glance at Laura. It was lovely to watch. There were only two students—a man and a girt—and they were learning an intricate duet at Tris's direction. They would execute what looked to Laura like a perfect step and suddenly Tris would swoop down on them, shouting temperamental criticisms. She finally made the man dance with her, to give the girl the idea.

Laura watched her fascinated as she leaped into his arms, straight and smooth and beautifully sure of herself. And Laura realized slowly that only when she danced with the man did Tris look over at her to see her expression.

She's trying to make me jealous, Laura thought, and she was suddenly weary; weary of all the envy and ill feeling and violence. She wanted nothing more than to lie down quietly by Tris's side, when the couple had gone, and gently, without explanations or apologies, make love till they both fell asleep. She knew if it happened Like that—naturally and easily and without pain—that she would stay with Tris. But she was afraid that even if it were bitter and unhappy, she would stay anyway.

And still, an angry core of resentment smoldered in her, resentment at Tris for having the effrontery to walk in on Laura and Beebo and cause the bitter outburst that had separated them. She was brooding about this when Tris suddenly dismissed her dancers.

The two went into her bedroom to change and Laura waited for Tris to speak to her. But Tris only glared, performing a few indolent turns until her students returned. Then she unexpectedly introduced them all. She was curt, almost unpleasant about it.

The young man smiled at Laura and said, “Never mind her, she's bad company tonight. Thanks, Tris.” And he gave her a strange look and left, following the girl.

Tris shut the door after them and turned to Laura. “The girl is insufferable,” she said. “She can't dance, and she is a vixen besides."

"The boy can dance,” Laura said, not without a jealous twitch.

"Yes, he can. He can make love, too. And he does—when I don't have company."

She said it pointedly and Laura felt her whole face go a hot red. She stood up without speaking and made for the door, her head swimming, but Tris stopped her there by embracing her. Laura was in no mood for Tris's sudden turnabouts.

"God damn you, let me go,” she exclaimed.

"Tonight, I am grateful for the company,” Tris said. “He bores me."

"I've had all I can take from you, Tris. You split me and Beebo up tonight—"

"Ah, then I did you a favor, no?” and she smiled.

"You damn near got me killed!"

"She is not gentle, is she?” Tris said, releasing Laura to touch her bruised mouth, but she was still smiling a little.

"Gentle?” Laura exploded. “Beebo? Gentle like a tornado. Why did you do it, Tris? Why?"

Tris shrugged, walking away from her. “I felt like it. I don't know why. I wanted to see you. I wanted to see—well, I wondered what she was like ... Beebo."

"You're incredible,” Laura breathed, furious, watching her saunter suggestively toward her bedroom.

"Are you coming with me?” Tris asked.

And Laura felt her legs weaken and her heart jump, and she hated herself for it. “No,” she said.

"Of course you are. That is why you are here. Come."

And Laura, helpless, went to her. Tris took her hands and led her, walking backwards herself, into the room and onto the low couch. She began to kiss her and Laura felt her fury rise and change into passion. Tris had never been so close to her, so tantalising.

Somehow her anger made her passion sharper and wilder. She wanted to hurt Tris with it. Beebo believed they had made love, did she? Well, Laura would give truth to her fantasies.

Laura could feel Tris's body begin to respond. A surging feeling of triumph flashed through her. She felt the familiar, wonderful insanity come over her and she relinquished herself wholly to feeling. It took her a few moments to understand that Tris was fighting her. And suddenly she came to herself with a shock and felt Tris slip away from her and saw her standing a few feet from the bed.

Tris gave her a look—almost of pity—and then turned and raced from the room. By the time Laura reached the door, it was locked. At first she was stunned, motionless. And then she began to throw her weight against it. “Tris! Tris, let me out!” she cried in a panic.

"Stay where you are till you cool off,” Tris said. Her voice was very near, just on the other side of the door, and Laura was wild to join her.

"Please, Tris!” she implored and her voice was low with coming tears. “Tris, don't do this to me!” Her whole body ached and after a moment more of futile beating on the door she slumped to the floor, moaning.

A long time later she dragged herself off the floor and back to the bed and lay there, sleepless, until early dawn. She was sick with the need to hurt and the need for love all scrambled inside her; she was imprisoned in her homosexuality and thinking ... thinking hard of Jack.

The first daylight was coming in the window when Laura heard the door open and saw Tris glide across the floor toward her. Laura smothered a first harsh impulse to jump at her. Tris came on tiptoe, thinking Laura would be asleep, and when she saw Laura's blue eyes staring at her, she was startled.

Then she came and sat in silence on the edge of the bed and looked at Laura for a while, until Laura, who was restraining herself tightly, saw that Tris was crying. And the crying became suddenly audible and made Tris cover her face with her hands. Laura lay beside her, refusing to touch her, feeling her spite and misery soften a little, feeling even a shade of pity. She wanted to beat the girl and at the same time stroke her shaking shoulders.

Tris turned her back to Laura and finally spoke with considerable effort. “I'm going out on the Island tomorrow,” she said. “For two weeks, a vacation. Come with me."

Laura stared at her back, frowning in disbelief. “What?” she said.

"I want you to come with me,” Tris whispered. Her voice sounded, as once before, quite American.

"You must enjoy torturing me,” Laura said.

There was a long pause while Tris snatched a piece of face tissue from a box by the bed and blew her nose. Finally she said, “It was torture for me, too. But still, it was inexcusable, what I did to you. I was a beast. I—I can't talk about it,” and she gave a quick sob. “But I promise it will never happen again—if you promise never to mention it. Promise?” And she turned and looked at Laura.

"Why did you do it?” Laura asked.

"I had to! I had to! I wanted to hurt you—last night—you made me feel—” and her speech was clipped again and careful—"you made me want you so much, Laura. And I hate it! I hate it!"—She was almost shrieking.

"Why?” Laura asked.

"Because I'm not really a Lesbian. Not like you. It's men I love, Laura. Really,” she added desperately.

And Laura felt compassion for her. “You're sick, Tris,” she said, but she said it kindly.

"Sick?” And Tris went a strange ashy color that scared Laura. “How do you mean?"

Laura realized then that she couldn't destroy Iris's illusion without destroying Tris. She raised herself to one elbow and brushed away the tears on Tris's cheek. “Let's put it this way,” she said. “If you feel like this about me, we shouldn't be together any more. In two weeks we'd drive each other wild. I know you feel terrible about last night, Tris, I can see it. I know I can't forget you, or forgive what you did. If we were living together, I'd want you and you'd hate me for it. And pretty soon I'd hate you too, for denying me."

"I won't deny you, Laura,” Tris whispered, without looking at her. “I promise you. If you'd just let me do it my way. Don't let it be like last night. When I feel as if I'm losing control, it's as if I were drowning, as if I were losing my sanity along with my will. It's as if—if I let it happen—I—I'll lose my mind.” She spoke so painfully, with such evident anxiety, that Laura was touched.

"Poor Tris,” she murmured, and smoothed her hair. “I thought I'd be pulling your hair out this morning, not playing with it,” she said, running her long fingers over the sleek black braid.

"Come with me,” Tris pleaded. “Let me make it up to you."

"Where are you going? Fire Island?"

"God, no!” Tris flared. “That place! It's crawling with queers. I wouldn't go near it."

'Tris...” Laura said, a little hesitantly. Her ear did not betray her. Tris's accent fluctuated strangely and roused her curiosity. She asked cautiously, “What part of India do you come from?"

"Why do you ask?” And Tris's eyes narrowed.

Laura lifted her shoulders casually. “You never told me."

"I said New Delhi"

"Oh, yes."

"Besides, it has nothing to do with the vacation. I'm going to a place on Long Island. Stone Harbor. It's not far from Montauk, on the north side. I have a cottage there for two weeks. It's very secluded. No one will bother us. I was there last year and it's really lovely. You'd like it, Laura, I know you would. You can swim every day—we're only two blocks from the beach and—"

"Tris?” Laura stopped the almost compulsive flow of speech and startled the dancer.

"Yes?"

"Why won't you tell me about India?"

"You wouldn't be interested."

"I'd be fascinated. Everything about you fascinates me. For instance, what are you doing in this country?"

"Dancing."

"Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

"How did you get here?"

"Scholarship."

"Are you a citizen?"

"Laura, stop it! Why do you ask me such things? What has this to do with our vacation? I refuse to be quizzed like a criminal. We'll leave tomorrow at eight. Can you be packed by then? I've rented a car."

"I can't even get into my own apartment,” Laura admitted. “You fixed me up just fine."

"Of course you can. Call the police.” Her odd green eyes flashed.

"No. Maybe Jack could get my things. I'll call him."

"Who's Jack?"

"Jack? He's a—sort of—fiance. A permanent fiance.” She smiled slightly.

Tris snorted. “Does he know you are gay?"

"Of course.” She would tell her no more, If Tris were going to seal her private life behind a wall of secrets, Laura could play it that way, too. “Can I use your phone,” she asked.

"Yes. In the kitchen.” Tris followed her across the empty studio into the sunny blue and yellow kitchen and while Laura was dialing she asked, “You will come, of course?"

"I'll tell you in a minute,” Laura said. “...Jack?"

"Good morning, Mother."

"Jack, I wonder if you could—if you'd mind going over to the apartment and getting my clothes. Do you think you could? I hate to ask you, but I don't dare go near her."

"Sure,” he said. “Did you pass your test?"

"My test? Oh.” She glanced at Tris. “I—I flunked,” she said and felt a tidal wave of pity and shame all at once. “Jack—I'm sorry. Oh, I'm so sorry. Let me come over—"

"Come get your clothes at five,” he said. “I'll leave the door open.” And he hung up.

Laura surprised Tris by dropping into a chair and sobbing. Tris sat down opposite her and waited in silence till she caught her breath, expecting an explanation. But Laura only dried her eyes and asked for some coffee.

Jack wasn't home when she went to pick up her clothes. She had known he wouldn't be there, and still it made her want to weep. She was in a blue mood, and even the sight of Tris, waiting for her outside at the wheel of a rented convertible, didn't cheer her up. She made several trips with the clothes, leaving most of her other possessions behind, and on the last trip she wrote him a note. It said, in part:

You're the only man I would ever marry, Jack. Maybe it will still work out. Tris wants me to spend two weeks with her on Long Island. I'll call you the minute I get back. I'm crazy about her, but she's a sick girl and I've had enough of wild scenes with sick lovers. I don't know what to expect so I am leaving most of my things here. Hope they won't be too much in the way. I quit my job, by the way. Will find something else when I get back. Thank you so much for everything, Jack darling. Hope Beebo didn't give you any trouble. Don't start drinking, I'm not worth it. I love you.

Laura.

The cabin had two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room, and a bathroom. It was furnished a la 1935, full of sand and ants, but comfortable. The walk to the beach was short and just enough to get you pleasantly warm before you soaked in the salt water.