Ironweed - William Kennedy [30]
“I believe when you’re dead you go in the ground and that’s the end of it,” Jack said. “Heaven never made no sensicality to me whatsoever.”
“You wouldn’t get in anyhow,” Helen said. “They’ve got your reservations someplace else.”
“Then I’m with him,” Clara said. “Who’d want to be in heaven with all them nuns? God what a bore.”
Francis knew Clara less than three weeks, but he could see the curve of her life: sexy kid likes the rewards, goes pro, gets restless, marries and makes kids, chucks that, pro again, sickens, but really sick, gettin’ old, gettin’ ugly, locks onto Jack, turns monster. But she’s got most of her teeth, not bad; and that hair: you get her to a beauty shop and give her a marcel, it’d be all right; put her in new duds, high heels and silk stockin’s; and hey, look at them titties, and that leg: the skin’s clear on it.
Clara saw Francis studying her and gave him a wink. “I knew a fella once, looked a lot like you. I had the hots for him.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Helen said.
“He loved what I gave him.”
“Clara never lacked for boyfriends,” Jack said. “I’m a lucky man. But she’s pretty sick. That’s why you can’t stay. She eats a lot of toast.”
“Oh I could make some toast,” Helen said, standing up from her chair. “Would you like that?”
“If I feel like eatin’ I’ll make my own toast,” Clara said. “And I’m gettin’ ready to go to bed. Make sure you lock the door when you go out.”
Jack grabbed Francis by the arm and pulled him toward the kitchen, but not before Francis readjusted his vision of Clara sitting in the middle of her shit machine, sending up a silent reek from her ruined guts and their sewerage.
o o o
When Jack and Francis came back into the living room Francis was smoking one of Jack’s cigarettes. He dropped it as he reached for the wine, and Helen groaned.
“Everything fallin’ on the floor,” Francis said. “I don’t blame you for throwin’ these bums out if they can’t behave respectable.”
“It’s gettin’ late for me,” Jack said. “I used to get by on two, three hours’ sleep, but no more.”
“I ain’t stayed here in how long now?” Francis asked. “Two weeks, ain’t it?”
“Oh come on, Francis,” Clara said. “You were here not four days ago. And Helen last night. And last Sunday you were here.”
“Sunday we left,” Helen said.
“I flopped here two nights, wasn’t it?” Francis said.
“Six,” Jack said. “Like a week.”
“I beg to differ with you,” Helen said.
“It was over a week,” Jack said.
“I know different,” said Helen.
“From Monday to Sunday.”
“Oh no.”
“It’s a little mixed up,” Francis said.
“He’s got a lot of things mixed up,” Helen said. “I hope you don’t get your food mixed up like that down at the diner.”
“No,” Jack said.
“You know, you’re very insultin’,” Francis said to Helen.
“It was a week,” Jack said.
“You’re a liar,” Helen said.
“Don’t call me a liar because I know so.”
“Haven’t you got any brains at all?” Francis said. “You supposed to be a college woman, you supposed to be this and that.”
“I am a college woman.”
“You know what I thought,” Jack said, “was for you to stay here, Franny, till you get work, till you pick up a little bankroll. You don’t have to give me nothin’.”
“Shake hands on it,” Helen said.
“I don’t know about the proposition now,” Jack said.
“Because I’m a bum,” Francis said.
“No, I wouldn’t put it that way.” Jack poured more wine for Francis.
“I knew he didn’t mean it,” Helen said.
“I’m gonna tell you,” Francis said. “I always thought a lot of Clara.”
“You’re drunk, Francis,” Helen screamed, standing up again. “Stay drunk for the rest of your life. I’m leaving you, Francis. You’re crazy. All you want is to guzzle wine. You’re insane!”
“What’d I say?” Francis asked. “I said I liked Clara.”
“Nothin’ wrong about that,” Jack said.
“I don’t mind about that,” Helen said, sitting down.
“I don’t know what to do with that woman,” Francis said.
“Do you even know if you’re staying here tonight?” Helen asked.
“No, he’s not,” Jack said. “Take him with you when you go.”
“We’re going,” Helen said.
“Clara’s too sick, Francis,” said Jack.
Francis sipped his wine, put it on the table, and struck a tap dancer