Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr by Hubert Selby Jr. Page A

The guys had a ball and she got a few bucks. If there was no
room to go to there was always the Wolffe Building cellar. Miles and
miles of cellar. One screwed and the others played chick. Sometimes
for hours. But she got what she wanted. All she had to do was putout.
It was kicks too. Sometimes. If not, so what? It made no difference.
Lay on your back. Or bend over a garbage can. Better than working.
And its kicks. For a while anyway. But time always passes. They grew
older. Werent satisfied with the few bucks they got from drunks. Why
wait for a drunk to passout. After theyve spent most of their loot.
Drop them on their way back to the Armybase. Every night dozens left
Willies, a bar across the street from the Greeks. Theyd get them on
their way back to the base or the docks. They usually let the doggies
go. They didnt have too much. But the seamen were usually loaded. If
they were too big or too sober theyd hit them over the head with a
brick. If they looked easy one would hold him and the other(s) would
lump him. A few times they got one in the lot on 57th street. That
was a ball. It was real dark back by the fence. Theyd hit him until
their arms were tired. Good kicks. Then a pie and beer. And Tralala.
She was always there. As more time passed they acquired valuable
experience. They were more selective. And stronger. They didn't need
bricks anymore. Theyd make the rounds of the bars and spot some guy
with a roll. When he left theyd lush him. Sometimes Tralala would set
him up. Walk him to a doorway. Sometimes through the lot. It worked
beautifully. They all had new clothes. Tralala dressed well. She wore
a clean sweater every few days. They had no trouble. Just stick to
the seamen. They come and go and who knows the difference. Who gives
a shit. They have more than they need anyway. And whats a few lumps.
They might get killed so whats the difference. They stayed away from
doggies. Usually. They played it smart and nobody bothered them. But
Tralala wanted more than the small share she was getting. It was
about time she got something on her own. If she was going to get laid
by a couple of guys for a few bucks she figured it would be smarter
to get laid by one guy and get it all. All the drunks gave her the
eye. And stared at her tits. It would be a slope-out. Just be sure to
pick a liveone. Not some bum with a few lousy bucks. None of that
shit. She waited, alone, in the Greeks. A doggie came in and ordered
coffee and a hamburger. He asked her if she wanted something. Why
not. He smiled. He pulled a bill from a thick roll and dropped it on
the counter. She pushed her chest out. He told her about his ribbons.
And medals. Bronze Star. And a Purpleheart with 2 Oakleaf Clusters.
Been overseas 2 years. Going home. He talked and slobbered and she
smiled. She hoped he didnt have all ones. She wanted to get him out
before anybody else came. They got in a cab and drove to a downtown
hotel. He bought a bottle of whiskey and they sat and drank and he
talked. She kept filling his glass. He kept talking. About the war.
How he was shot up. About home. What he was going to do. About the
months in the hospital and all the operations. She kept pouring but
he wouldnt pass out. The bastard. He said he just wanted to be near
her for a while. Talk to her and have a few drinks. She waited.
Cursed him and his goddamn mother. And who gives a shit about your
leg gettin all shotup. She had been there over an hour. If hed fucker
maybe she could get the money out of his pocket. But he just talked.
The hell with it. She hit him over the head with the bottle. She
emptied his pockets and left. She took the money out of his wallet
and threw the wallet away. She counted it on the subway. 50 bucks.
Not bad. Never had this much at once before. Shouldve gotten more
though. Listenin to all that bullshit. Yeah. That sonofabitch. I
shoulda hitim again. A lousy 50 bucks and hes talkin like a wheel or
somethin. She kept 10 and stashed the rest and hurried back to