Charles Bukowski - Short Stories Collection Part 22

Tanya came over and sat in my lap. "they will kill me now.

please try not to be sad." I didn't answer.

then Von Brashlitz was screaming, pointing to Tanya - "I TELL YOU, GENTLEMEN, SHE HAS NO FEELING! I SAVED.

THE d.a.m.n THING FROM HITLER! I tell you, it is nothing but a MACHINE!"

they all just stood there, n.o.body believed Von B.

it was simply the most beautiful machine, and so-called woman, they had ever seen.

"Oh s.h.i.+t! You idiots! Every woman is a f.u.c.king machine, can't you see that? They play for the highest bidder! THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS LOVE! THAT IS A FAIRYTALE MIRAGE LIKE.

CHRISTMAS!"

they still wouldn't believe.

"THIS is only a machine! have FEAR! WATCH!"

VonBrashlitz grabbed one of Tanya's arms.

ripped it completely off her body.

and inside - inside the hole of her shoulder - you could see it - there was nothing but wire and tubes - coiled and running things - plus some minor substance that faintly resembled blood.

I saw Tanya standing there with this coil of wire hanging from her shoulder, where the arm used to be, she looked at me: "please, for me to! I asked you to try not to be too sad."

I watched as they ganged her, and ripped and raped and tore.

I couldn't help it. I put my head down between my legs and crieda"

also, Indian Mike never got his 20 bucks worth.

some months went by. I never went back to the bar. There was a trial but the govt. exonerated Von B. and his machine. I moved to another town. far away. and one day sitting in a barbershop, I picked up this s.e.x mag. here was an ad: "Blow up your own little dolly! $29.95. Resistant rubber material, very durable. Chains and whips included in package. A bikini, bras, panties. 2 wigs, lipstick and small jar of love-potion included. Von Brashlitz Co."

I sent him a money order. some box number in Ma.s.s. he had moved too.

the package arrived in about 3 weeks. very embarra.s.sing. I didn't have a bicycle pump, and then I got the hots when I took the thing out of the package. I had to go down to the corner gas station and use their air hose.

it looked better as it blew up. big t.i.ts. big a.s.s.

"whatcha got there, pal?" the gas station man asked me.

"look, man, I'm just borrowing a little air. don't I buy a lot of gas here, huh?"

"o.k., that's o.k., you can have the air. I just d.a.m.n well can't help wondering whatcha got there-"

"just forget it!" I said.

"JESUS! look at those t.i.tS!"

"I AM looking, a.s.shole!"

I left him there with his tongue hanging out, then threw her over my shoulder and made it back to my place. I carried her into the bedroom.

the big question was yet to come?

I spread the legs and looked for some kind of opening.

Von B. hadn't completely slipped.

I climbed on top and began kissing that rubber mouth. now and then I reached for one of the giant rubber t.i.ts and sucked upon it. I had put a yellow wig on her and rubbed the love-potion all over my c.o.c.k. It didn't take much love-potion. maybe he'd sent a year's worth.

I kissed her pa.s.sionately behind the ears, stuck my finger up her a.s.s, kept pumping. then I leaped off, chained her arms behind her back, there was this little lock and key and then I whipped her a.s.s good with the leather thongs.

G.o.d, I gotta be nuts! I thought.

then I flipped her over and put it back in. humped and humped. frankly, it was rather boring. I imagined male dogs s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g female cats; I imagined 2 people f.u.c.king through the air as they jumped from the Empire State Building. I imagined a p.u.s.s.y as large as an octopus, crawling toward me, wet and stinking and aching for an o.r.g.a.s.m. I remembered all the panties, knees, legs, t.i.ts, p.u.s.s.ies I had ever seen. the rubber was sweating; I was sweating.

"I love you, darling!" I whispered into one of her rubber ears.

I hate to admit it, but I forced myself to come into that lousy hunk of rubber. It was hardly a Tanya at all.

I took a razor blade and cut the thing all to s.h.i.+t. dumped it out with the beercans.

how many men in America bought those stupid things?

or then you can pa.s.s half a hundred f.u.c.k machines in a 10 minute walk on almost any main sidewalk of America - the only difference being that they pretended that they were human.

poor Indian Mike. with that 20 inch dead c.o.c.k.

all the poor Indian Mikes. all the climbers into s.p.a.ce. all the wh.o.r.es of Vietnam and Was.h.i.+ngton.

poor Tanya, her belly had been a hog's belly. veins the veins of a dog. she rarely shatted or p.i.s.sed, she had just f.u.c.ked - heart, voice and tongue borrowed from others - there were only supposed to be 17 possible organ transplants at that time. Von B. was far ahead of them.

poor Tanya, who had only eaten a little - mostly cheap cheese and raisins. she had had no desire for money or property or large new cars or overexpensive homes. she had never read the evening paper. had no desire for colored television, new hats, rain boots, backfence conversation with idiot wives; nor had she desired a husband who was a doctor, a stockbroker, a congressman or a cop.

and the guy at the gas station keeps asking me, "hey, what happened to that thing you brought down here one day and blew up with the air hose?"

but he doesn't ask anymore. I buy my gas at a new place. I don't even get my hair cut anymore where I saw that magazine with the Von Brashlitz rubber dolly s.e.x ad. I am trying to forget everything.

what would you do?

SIX INCHES.

The first three months of my marriage to Sarah were acceptable but I'd say a little after that our troubles began. She was a good cook, and for the first time in years I was eating well. I began to put on weight. And Sarah began to make remarks.

"Ah, Henry, you're beginning to look like a turkey they're plumping for Thanksgiving."

"Ats right, baby," I told her.

I was a s.h.i.+pping clerk in an auto parts warehouse and the pay was hardly sufficient.

My only joys were eating, drinking beer and going to bed with Sarah. Not exactly a rounded life but a man had to take what he could get. Sarah was plenty. Everything about her spelled S-E-X. I had really gotten to know her at a Christmas party for the employees at the warehouse. Sarah was a secretary there. I noticed none of the fellows got near her at the party and I couldn't understand it. I had never seen a s.e.xier woman and she didn't act the fool either. I got close to her and we drank and talked. She was beautiful. There was something odd about her eyes, though. They just kept looking into you and the eyelids didn't seem to blink. When she went to the restroom I walked over to Harry the truckdriver.

"Listen, Harry," I asked, "how come none of the boys make a play for Sarah?"

"She's a witch, man, a real witch. Stay away."

"There's no such thing as witches, Harry. All that has been disproven. All those women they burned at the stake in the old days, it was a cruel and a horrible mistake. There's no such thing as a witch."

"Well, maybe they did burn a lot of women wrongly, I can't say. But this b.i.t.c.h is a witch, take it from me."

"All she needs, Harry, is understanding."

"All she needs," said Harry, "is a victim."

"How do you know?"

"Facts," said Harry. "Two guys here, Manny, a salesman. And Lincoln, a clerk." "What happened?"

"They just kind of disappeared in front of our eyes, only so slowlya" you could see them going, vanishnga"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about it. You'd think I was crazy."

Harry walked off. Then Sarah came out of the lady's room. She looked beautiful.

"What did Harry tell you about me?" she asked.

"How did you know I was talking to Harry?"

"I know," she said.

"He didn't say much."

"Whatever he said, forget it. It's bulls.h.i.+t. I won't let him have any and he's jealous. He likes to badmouth people."

"I'm not concerned with Harry's opinions," I told her.

"You and I are going to make it, Henry," she said.

She went to my apartment with me after the party and I'm telling you I've never been laid like that. She was the woman of all women. It was a month or so later that we were married. She quit her job right off, but I didn't say anything because I was so glad to have her. Sarah made her own clothes, did her own hair. She was a remarkable woman. Very remarkable.

But, as I said, it was after about 3 months that she began making these remarks about my weight. At first they were just genial little remarks, then she began to get scornful about it. I came home one night and she said, "Take off your d.a.m.ned clothes!"

"What, my darling?"

"You heard me, b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Strip!"

Sarah was a little different then than I had ever seen her. I took off my clothes and underwear and threw them on the couch. She stared at me.

"Awful," she said, "what a lot of s.h.i.+t!"

"What, dear?"

"I said you look just like a big tub of s.h.i.+t!"

"Listen, honey, what's wrong? You got the rag on tonight?"

"Shut up! Look at that stuff hanging at your sides!"

She was right. There seemed to be a little pouch of fat on each side, hanging just above the hips. Then she doubled up her fists and hit me hard several times on each of the pouches.

"We've got to punch that s.h.i.+t! Break up the fat tissues, the cellsa"

She punched me again, several times.

"Ow! Baby, that hurts!"

"Good! Now, hit yourself!"

"Hit myself?"

"Go ahead, d.a.m.n you!"

I hit myself several times, quite hard. When I was finished the things were still there, though now they looked quite red.

"We're going to get that s.h.i.+t off of you," she told me.

I figured that is was love and decided to cooperatea Sarah began counting my calories. She took away my fried foods, bread and potatoes, salad dressing, but I kept my beer. I had to show her who was wearing the pants in our family.

"No, d.a.m.n it," I said, "I won't give up my beer. I love you very much but the beer stays!"

"All right," said Sarah, "we'll make it work anyway."

"Make what work?"