Someone Is Bleeding Read online

“What are you afraid of now?”

  “Not of you,” she said, but it didn’t sound convincing. “Jim, I guess.”

  That didn’t sound convincing either. I tried to get her mind on something else. I thought I knew what she was afraid of.

  “As soon as we hear one way or the other about Jim,” I said, “we’ll have a real church wedding. We’ll go back to New York and have all my family at it.”

  She turned, a smile flickering on her tired face. We’d been driving all morning and afternoon.

  “Honest?” she said.

  “Honest.”

  She leaned against me wearily and was at peace for a moment. She held my arm.

  Then a horn honked behind us and she sat up with a gasp and looked back. The car passed us and disappeared up the dusty highway. Peggy drew in a heavy breath.

  “We’ll be out of it soon,” I said.

  But I was beginning to get the feeling that neither of us would ever get out of it. It seemed to be going on endlessly. Months of it. Would it go on for years?

  Night was falling over the highway and I was sleepy and tired. And starving, too. We hadn’t eaten much all day and my stomach was about empty.

  I signed the motel registry with as pleasant a smile at Peggy as I could manage.

  Mr. and Mrs. David Newton, Los Angeles.

  For a moment I had the crazy notion that the man was going to ask us for identification because we looked so young. But the man didn’t. He looked bored and slid us the keys. To Cabin K.

  We walked along the gravel path under the sky that was hidden by dust clouds. And we tried to pretend we were happy.

  But every sound made us start nervously and I was almost getting angry at Peggy, with a whole society for getting me into this. There were no thoughts of wedding night pleasures. I felt grimy and disgusted with life. It took a strong effort to be pleasant for her sake.

  Cabin K. All wrong. A slanty little structure, painted green and white and the paint was probably an inch thick. The shutters hung lopsided and the window curtains looked as if they hadn’t been laundered since V-J Day. And then with lye.

  I stood before the door and looked at her. She shook her head once and I didn’t go near her. It would have been a tragic mockery to carry her over that dismal threshold. I just opened the door and stepped aside.

  She looked inside. Something held her back. She shuddered once.

  “Davie.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” I said. “Have I ever harmed you?”

  The pleasantness slipped as she still hesitated.

  “Come on, Peggy,” I said. “I’m too tired to make a pass at anyone.”

  She stood inside looking around the room as I put the bags on the bed. The room was terrible. For anybody. Especially for us. We were newlyweds and the room was dingy and uninviting. No touch of sweet romance. No windows with boughs stirring outside. A dusty floor, a touch of stale whiskey in the air.

  I looked at her. And the expression on her face made me forget my own irritation and worries. I took her hand.

  “Peg,” I said, “I’m sorry. I wish it was a castle. But it’s all we can get now. We have to sleep.”

  “I know,” she said. Without enthusiasm.

  While she was in the bathroom I went down to the manager’s office.

  “Hey, can I get some food?” I asked.

  “Afraid not,” he said. “All I got’s candy. And that popcorn machine over there.”

  “How about some ice?”

  “Only got a little, mister,” he said. “Ice’s hard to get around here.”

  “Look,” I said, “we’ve just been married. And I have a bottle of champagne in my bag. Can’t you let us have a little ice? Maybe a pailful or something?”

  He looked at me studiedly. Then he got compassion. He got a pail and put a chunk of ice in it.

  “Fifty cents,” he said.

  I paid him and held back the temper.

  “What about glasses?” I said irritably.

  “Glasses in the cabin.”

  “I can’t get this chunk of ice in the glasses,” I said.

  He reached under the counter…

  ***

  “Voilá!” I cried to her as she came out of the bathroom. I’d chopped up the ice into small pieces and decided to chill the bottle instead of putting the ice chips in the glasses. I’d stuck the bottle into the pail. But the ice only covered about two inches on the bottom of the pail. The champagne would never chill.

  “Oh!” Peggy said. “Champagne!”

  She tried to smile and keep smiling. But even Peggy with her imagination couldn’t overcome all this dinginess. Couldn’t picture us as being anywhere but where we were—a dreary cabin K on the highway.

  She sat on the bed as I opened the bottle. I noticed her glance at the pail, at the object beside it. Then she turned her eyes away and smiled at me again.

  She was wearing a long dressing robe over her body. She sat on the bed and watched me. But she wasn’t relaxed. Her poise was strained, her lips forced into a smile.

  I put down the unopened bottle and sat beside her and put my arms around her.

  “Honey, be happy,” I said. “It’s not paradise, I know. But we’re away at last. And we’re free of the past.”

  Her arms clung to me.

  “Oh, Davie,” she said, “don’t let anything happen to me. Don’t let anything spoil it.”

  “I won’t,” I said, cheerfully.

  Then I stood up and opened the bottle.

  “Ooops!”

  The white foaming champagne spurted out of the bottle mouth and ran onto the floor. I leveled the bottle quickly and poured it into the glasses. Then I put down the bottle on the bedside table next to the pail. I put some pieces of ice into the glasses.

  “I shouldn’t dilute it,” I said, “but if I don’t, the champagne will be too warm.”

  “It’s all right,” she said.

  I handed her a glass. I held my own out to her.

  “My love,” I toasted.

  She smiled. We sat side by side and drank. I was thirsty. The cool tingling of the champagne tasted good. I polished off the glass in two swallows.

  “Popcorn, m’lady?” I asked.

  She took a few pieces. I tried some. It was stale.

  “I wish we could get a steak dinner,” I said, “but there’s nothing around here. I promise as soon as we get back to Santa Monica or… wherever we’re going,” I added as her face grew concerned, “I’ll buy you a nice, juicy sirloin.”

  “You’ll make my mouth water,” she said.

  I felt a little lightheaded. I blinked at her and grinned.

  “Mrs. Newton,” I said.

  She smiled dutifully and I poured two more glasses. One and a half really. Peggy had only drunk about half a glass.

  I felt the warmth coursing my body and I had a little more popcorn. It made me thirsty. I put the bag aside because it spoiled the taste of the champagne.

  The stuff worked fast. I felt as if I were floating. I put my head down on her lap and felt the bed rolling gently under me. I reached out casually and stroked her soft, swelling breast.

  She tried to smile but she couldn’t.

  “Baby,” I said.

  I raised up and kissed her on the mouth. I felt something rising in me. A familiar sensation. Everything had been building it up through the months. And now hunger and lightheadedness were added to it. A cabin isolated. And my brain saying speciously—she’s your wife now, you can do anything to her you want. The immediate philosophy of the deluded male.

  I squirmed on the bed and poured some more to drink.

  “Peggy?”

  “No thanks,” she said. “Maybe we should… find someplace to eat.”

  “There isn’t any place around here,” I said.

  “Maybe up the road.”

  “Honey, not now. I’m tired. I don’t want to drive again.”

  “But…”

  Her chest rose and fell with a shudder.
She swallowed. But not champagne.

  “Do you think Jim is…?”

  I had my mouth over her to stop her talking about it.

  “Now, never mind him,” I said. “This is our wedding night.”

  “Davie.”

  Her fingers in my hair were shaking.

  I ran a hand over her leg.

  “Davie,” she said.

  I started to unbutton her robe.

  “Why are you doing that?” she asked, like a timorous little girl.

  “Because…”

  Her hands held mine.

  “No, Davie.” Gently pleading.

  “Peggy, stop it,” I said. “What are you afraid of? Have I ever hurt you?”

  “No, but…”

  “Well, stop it, then.”

  “I’m sorry. I just…”

  I opened another button. She was staring at me, her face white and tense. She looked like some maiden about to be sacrificed to a horrible god.

  “Peggy!” I said angrily.

  She had her dress on under the robe.

  “Davie, please don’t be angry. Don’t you see I’m…”

  “See! See what?”

  “Davie…”

  “What do you think marriage is, a business relationship?” I snapped pettishly. “Oh… for God’s sake…”

  “Davie.”

  I didn’t look at her. I had another drink. She drank another glass. We sat there in silence and we both drank. She seemed to be trying to get drunk. Relentlessly trying to lose herself so she could please me. But it seemed she couldn’t do it, as if this fear in her were imbedded in her very flesh.

  I don’t remember every moment. But I do remember that she took off her robe after I acted sullen. She took her dress off and lay beside me in her slip. Her motions were nervous and shaky. She kept drinking. Her lips shook. She tried to smile.

  “You won’t… do… anything, will you?” she asked, quietly.

  I didn’t answer. My breath was heavier. I could see the lines of her body through the silk now. A beautiful body. My lips pressed against the warm flesh of her shoulder. I remembered that night we’d gone to Ciro’s and Peggy had worn the low dress. I thought of all the times I’d wanted her. I thought of Audrey screaming into my chest. I wanted to scream too. Hunger seemed to have been converted into an ugly drive in me. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. My mind kept trying to stop me but I kept kicking it aside.

  I caressed her. She shuddered.

  “Davie.” A frightened little voice.

  “Stop that,” I said.

  I heard her throat move. I kissed her throat. She drew away. I pulled her close in what I thought was a gentle way.

  She drew away again and stood up.

  “I think I’ll take a bath,” she said.

  It sounded so obvious to me. It irritated me. I stood up quickly and stood before her. I slid my hands around her.

  “No,” I said.

  “I’m… Davie, can’t you…”

  Her eyes like a frightened bird’s. Trapped, helpless.

  “Peggy, I’m your husband.” Thick voice, uncomprehending voice.

  “I know, I know but… you said you’d…”

  “I just want to touch you.”

  “Davie, please.”

  “I just want to touch you.”

  “Davie.”

  “All I want to do is… touch you.”

  I was lost in a fog. I kept running my hands over her. She kept backing away. I followed. I was out of my mind. I grabbed her. She squirmed out of my embrace.

  “No,” she said. More firmly now. A little fire in her eyes.

  I grabbed her.

  “I told you to stop it!” I said angrily and the unspent fury of the last months surged up into my voice.

  She tore away from me.

  “You’re not going to touch me!”

  “No?”

  I moved toward her and she backed away. I thought about her husband. I threw the thought aside. Almost, her fright drove me on harder. I could almost understand a man wanting to take Peggy by force. She seemed the sort of woman.

  She backed into the bedside table.

  “Davie… no!”

  I clutched her shoulders.

  Suddenly her eyes expanded, her lips drew back as she sucked in a terrified breath. I could almost hear the scream tearing up through her throat.

  That was when something managed to lance its way through the thick coating of mindless desire in me. I saw myself. I saw her. And I was doing to her what they’d all done. I was no better than any of them. And the shame of it made me turn away with tears in my eyes and a shaking hand over my eyes.

  “I’m… I’m… I’m… sorry,” I muttered brokenly. A sudden rushing sound. A biting pain in my right shoulder right below where the bandage ended. I jumped around with a gasp.

  She was holding the icepick in her hand and staring at me, her eyes like white dotted marbles in her head, her lips pressed together into a hideous white gash.

  My mouth fell open. I stared at her dumbly.

  I don’t know how long we stood there without a sound. She was like a tensed animal, the icepick raised in her hand, her dark pupils boring into me.

  I moved back a step then. The words seemed to come from my mouth by themselves.

  “You’re crazy,” I said.

  She still looked at me, something tight holding her together.

  Then she noticed the big drops of blood running over my hand and dripping on the floor. She leaned forward a little, the berserk look fading from her face. The features relaxed. Her arm dropped.

  “Davie?” she said.

  “Get away from me.”

  “Davie.”

  “You heard me.”

  “Davie, I didn’t stab you.”

  I backed away some more.

  “Davie, it wasn’t you.”

  “Get away.”

  “I didn’t stab at you. Davie, not at you!”

  “I said get away!”

  I backed off in horror. And then the idea came and the breath was sucked out of me.

  “You killed Albert, didn’t you?” I said.

  She stopped. She looked at me blankly.

  “You killed him, didn’t you?” I said hoarsely.

  “Davie, I…”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Davie…”

  “You did, didn’t you!”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Oh my God!” I cried. “You kill a man and you ask what difference it makes!”

  “You said you could forget everything,” she said.

  “Forget that you murdered a man!”

  “He wasn’t a man, he was an animal!”

  “He was a man, a man! And you killed him!”

  Her throat moved. She started to tremble. She raised her hand. She saw the icepick and then threw it away with revulsion and it rolled over the floor.

  “I didn’t,” she said weakly.

  “You did!”

  “Yes, I… I killed… h-h-him. But…”

  I felt myself drained in an instant. As if by some invisible vampire, of the strength. I staggered back, hardly feeling the pain in my shoulder at all.

  “You lied to me,” I said dizzily. “All this time you lied to me.”

  “No, Davie, no,” she said miserably.

  She was trying to wipe away the past. It was what she always meant. That we should forget everything, even that she had killed.

  “You said what happened before didn’t matter. You said it didn’t,” she said.

  “What are you?” I said. “An animal yourself? You kill a man and then you say forget it.”

  “I was out of my mind. I couldn’t help it. I… didn’t mean to.”

  “Why did you lie? Why did you lie to me?”

  “Davie, don’t.” Tears were flooding down her cheeks. “I was upset. I couldn’t lose you. You’re all I have now. Don’t desert me. I need you. I need you.”

  “A
nd you let me think that Jim killed them,” I said.

  “He had Dennis killed,” she said, “I didn’t do that. What’s the difference if he dies for one crime or two. Didn’t he say he killed Albert?”

  He’d lied for her. I knew it suddenly. I hadn’t gotten any confession from him. He’d heard Jones out there and he’d lied once more to save Peggy.

  I couldn’t get it. I just couldn’t understand it. All I could think was one thing.

  “And we’re married,” I said. “We’re married.”

  Something hard gripped her features.

  “Oh, that’s awful, isn’t it?” she said, her voice breaking. “That’s just horrible, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t think you feel guilty at all,” I said, “I think you feel justified for everything you did. You think you had a right to kill Albert, don’t you?”

  “I did have a right! He was a pig! He tore at my clothes and he tried to make me filthy with his own dirt! I had to kill him! I had to, can’t you see that!”

  “No, I can’t! I can’t see it!”

  Something seemed to start in her. Way down. Like a flood of hot lava surging up to the mouth of a volcano. It shook her body as it came up. It made her arms tremble at her sides, made the fingers clamp into boney fists.

  It exploded in my face.

  “You’re like all of them!” she yelled. “Like every damn one of them! Defending each other! Plotting with each other against us! Driving us into a pit! A pit! Hurting us, brutalizing us, destroying us, making us into tools for your filthy hands! Twisting our hopes into knots! And tearing our hearts out! You don’t care, oh, you don’t care! You’re all the same, all of you! You don’t care about us! You don’t care if we have minds, you don’t care if we’re sensitive, you don’t care if we’re afraid, you just take us! You just rip the beauty out of our lives and give us ugliness instead! And then you tell everybody what wonderful men you are, how happy you’ve made us! All of you—pigs! Get away from me you pig, you pig, YOU PIG!”

  Her blood-drained fists were crushed against her white cheeks and saliva ran from her twitching mouth. I stood there, paralyzed, looking in blank horror at a girl I’d never seen.

  I didn’t even hear the door open. The first thing I knew was Peggy turning. And then I looked.

  Jim.

  ***

  He came across the room quickly. I couldn’t move. I watched him take off his top coat and put it over her shoulders. She tried to throw it off but, without a moment’s hesitation, he slapped her across the face. Hard. The red flared up on her cheek and she gasped and backed away.