“Tom’s not distrait,” Honest Lil said. “Tom is sad.”
“Cut out that shit,” Willie said to her. “What are you pissed off about? First somebody is distrait. Then somebody is sad. Before that I’m horrible. So what? Where does a cunt like you get off criticizing people all the time? Don’t you know you’re supposed to be gay?”
Honest Lil began to cry, real tears, bigger and wetter than any in the movies. She could always cry real tears any time she wanted to or needed to or was hurt.
“That cunt cries bigger tears than mother used to make,” Willie said.
“Willie, you shouldn’t call me that.”
“Cut it out, Willie,” Thomas Hudson said.
“Willie, you are a cruel wicked boy and I hate you,” Honest Lil said. “I don’t know why men like Thomas Hudson and Henry go around with you. You are wicked and you talk vile.”
“You’re a lady,” Willie said. “You shouldn’t says things like that. Vile is a bad word. It’s like spit on the end of your cigar.”
Thomas Hudson put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Drink up, Willie. Nobody’s feeling too good.”
“Henry’s feeling good. I could tell him what you told me and then he’d feel awful.”
“You asked me.”
“That isn’t what I mean. Why don’t you split your goddam grief? Why did you keep that by yourself the last two weeks?”
“Grief doesn’t split.”
“A grief hoarder,” Willie said. “I never thought you’d be a goddamned grief hoarder.”
“I don’t need any of this, Willie,” Thomas Hudson said to him. “Thank you very much, though. You don’t have to work on me.”
“OK. Hoard it. But it’ll do you no damn good. I tell you I was brought up on the goddamned stuff.”
“So was I,” Thomas Hudson said. “No shit.”
“Were you really? Then maybe your own system’s best. You were getting to look pretty screwy, though.”
“That’s just from drinking and being tired and not relaxed yet.”
“You hear from your woman?”
“Sure. Three letters.”
“How’s that going?”
“Couldn’t be worse.”
“Well,” Willie said. “There we are. You might as well hoard it so as to have something.”
“I’ve got something.”
“Sure. Your cat Boise loves you. I know that. I’ve seen that. How is the screwy old bastard?”
“Just as screwy.”
“He beats the shit out of me,” Willie said. “He does.”
“He certainly sweats things out.”
“Doesn’t he, though? • If I suffered like that cat does I’d be nuts. What are you drinking, Thomas?”
“Another one of those.”
Willie put his arm around Honest Lil’s ample waist. “Listen, Lilly,” he said. “You’re a good girl. I didn’t mean to get you sore. It was my fault. I was feeling emotional.”
“You won’t talk that way any more?”
“No. Not unless I get emotional.”
“Here’s yours,” Thomas Hudson said to him. “Here’s to you, you son of a bitch.”
“Now you’re talking,” Willie said. “Now you’ve got the old pecker pointed north. We ought to have that cat Boise here. He’d be proud of you. See what I meant by sharing it?”
“Yes,” Thomas Hudson said. “I see.”
“All right,” Willie said. “We’ll drop it. Put out your can, here comes the garbage man. Look at that damn Henry. Get a load of him. What do you suppose makes him sweat like that on a cold day like today?”
“Girls,” Honest Lil said. “He is obsessed with them.”
“Obsessed,” Willie said. “You bore a hole in his head anywhere you want with a half-inch bit and women would run out. Obsessed. Why don’t you get a word that would fit it?”
“Obsessed is a strong word in Spanish anyway.”
“Obsessed? Obsessed is nothing. If I get time this afternoon I’ll think up the word.”
“Tom, come down to the other end of the bar where we can talk and I can be comfortable. Will you buy me a sandwich? I’ve been out all morning with Henry.”
“I’m going to the Basque Bar,” Willie said. “Bring him over there, Lil.”
“All right,” Honest Lil said. “Or I’ll send him.”
She made her stately progress to the far end of the bar, speaking to many of the men she passed and smiling at others. Everyone treated her with respect. Nearly everyone she spoke to had loved her at some time in the last twenty-five years. Thomas Hudson went down to the far end of the bar, taking his bar checks with him, as soon as Honest Lil had seated herself and smiled at him. She had a beautiful smile and wonderful dark eyes and lovely black hair. When it would begin to show white at the roots along the line of her forehead and along the line of her part, she would ask Thomas Hudson for money to have it fixed and when she came back from having it dyed it was as glossy and natural-looking and lovely as a young girl’s hair. She had a skin that was as smooth as olive-colored ivory, if there were olive-covered ivory, with a slightly smoky roselike cast. Actually, the color always reminded Thomas Hudson of well-seasoned mahagua lumber when it is freshly cut, then simply sanded smooth and waxed lightly. Nowhere else had he ever seen that smoky almost greenish color. But the mahagua did not have the rose tint. The rose tint was just the color that she used but it was almost as smooth as a Chinese girl’s. There was this lovely face looking down the bar at him, lovelier all the time as he came closer. Then he was beside her and there was the big body and the rose color was artificial now and there was no mystery about any of it, although it was still a lovely face.