first. I tried to do it right.”
“How soon is _this_ soon?” Beebo asked disconsolately.
“Tonight, if I can get reservations.”
Beebo sat up in a mood of defiance. “Venus, you can’t—”
“I have to, darling. Leo has ways of forcing me. Besides, I knew he’d
been talking about this for months. But I didn’t think it would come so
soon.” She glanced at Beebo and suddenly turned halfway around to kiss
her mouth, startling Beebo.
“Is that goodby?” Beebo said, so coldly that Venus smiled at her.
“I told you I had a business proposition for you, you wicked child,” she
said. “And it’s a damn good thing, or I could never explain to Toby why
you spent the night. I’m going in right now and mess up the guest room.
Bring your clothes.”
Beebo pulled some of them on en route to the guest room. “What
proposition?” she demanded, full of new hopes.
“Would you like to work for me?” Venus said, turning down the covers of
the extra bed. She had thrown her negligee around herself.
“As what?” Beebo said. “Your companion?”
“No. Toby’s. He says you know horses. Maybe you could work in the
stables.” She spiraled the sheets around on the bed and dumped a pillow
on the floor. “That should do it.... Well, don’t stand there, darling,
go home and pack,” she said, glancing up at her astonished guest. “I
want you back here before six tonight. There’s a flight at eight I can
usually get seats on. What’s the matter, don’t you want to go?”
“I—yes—I do,” Beebo stammered.
“Well, go, darling. Go, go, go!” Venus said, clapping her hands under
Beebo’s nose and laughing. “And don’t talk about it!” she hissed at
Beebo’s retreating back. “To _anybody_!”
* * * * *
Beebo drove downtown in a fog of confusion. After the first shock of
flattered pleasure died away, she found herself preoccupied with Paula;
so concerned, so anxious, that there were tears in her eyes she had to
keep squeezing away, just to see the traffic ahead of her.
She would stop at Paula’s apartment before she left. She had to. It was
one thing to hurt somebody, but to do it like a snake, striking and
slipping away before the victim knows what hit her—or who, or how—was
beyond Beebo. She would tell Paula the truth herself, however much it
cost them both in sorrow and resentment.
* * * * *
Beebo returned the Pasquinis’ truck, hoping to escape unnoticed. But
Pete was lying in wait for her.
“So, you brought it back!” he said, grinning at her like a slick little
fox. “We thought maybe you was taking a vacation in it.”
“It’s your truck,” she said, getting down. “I don’t want the damn
thing.” She turned to look at him. “I—uh ... I’m quitting, Pete. I got
another job.”
“No kidding.” He picked his teeth without disturbing the leer on his
face. “Walking the dog for some swell lady?”
“I’ve had it with dogs,” Beebo shot back. “I’ve been working for one all
summer.”
Pete left the pick in his teeth in order to fold his arms over his chest
in imitation of Beebo when she was insulted. “So, Beebo,” he said
softly. “You don’t like it here with us no more?”
“You tell Marie I’m sorry,” Beebo said. “I like her fine.”
“Sure you do, sweetheart. She wears a skirt,” he said, rocking back and
forth on his heels, needling her skillfully.
Beebo felt her temper expanding in her like hot air. It would have
relieved her hugely to have punched him where it would hurt the worst.
But that was no way to solve any problems—especially not with this
covert, twisted young man who was trying to provoke the punch out of her
on purpose.
“Marie is a friend of mine,” Beebo said stiffly.
“Meaning I ain’t? Ain’t I been friendly to you, Beebo?” he said,
sauntering toward her. “Well, I can fix that up right now.” And with one
abrupt movement he reached her side and threw her hard against the door
of the truck, pulling her left arm up high in the back in a wrenchingly
painful hammer lock. Beebo gave a gasp of shock and tried to break free.
But for all her size and strength, she was still a girl, and no match
for an angry, jealous man who had been wanting her and wanting to hurt
her since he first saw her.
He forced his mouth on hers and when she struggled he bit her. She tried
to knee him, and he pulled her arm up so hard they both thought for a
moment he had broken it. Beebo went white with the pain, and leaned
weakly against the door. Pete kissed her again, taking his time and not
trying to unhinge her arm any more. The rough scratch of his whiskers,
and smell of his winy breath, the push of his hard hips, almost made her
faint.
“Now why do you make me hurt you, Beebo? Why do you do that?” he said in
a tense whisper, as if it were all her fault. “I don’t want to hurt you.
I want to be friends.” He kissed her again. “Don’t that prove it?”
Beebo knew she was crying with pain and fury and sickness. “Let me go,”
she said hoarsely. She would have screamed if she had had any strength,
but her heart was pounding and she was clammy pale, very near to
toppling over.
Pete released her suddenly, caught her as she stumbled, and seated her
on the running board. He shoved her head down between her knees till the
blood flow revived her. “You don’t got to put on a show,” he said
irritably. “I know you don’t want it from a man. I know you’re gay, for
chrissakes. That’s one thing I can spot a mile off. I like gay girls,
Beebo, in case you ain’t noticed. I’m on your side. Jesus God, you’d
think I hated you, or something.”
She looked at him sideways, when she thought she was strong enough to
stomach him. “Get out of my sight, you rotten little creep,” she said.
“Go find Mona. She plays both sides of the street.”
“Ah, Mona’s a drag,” he said. “She’s got this big thing about putting
you down on account of Paula. And you standing her up that night. I’m
sorry about that, Beebo, it was kind of my fault. It was me at her place
that night.”
“Oh, God,” Beebo said, and let her head drop into her hands again. “I
should have known.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know she’s bringing somebody home? I know
this girl for years. I drop in on her when I feel like it.”
“If you’re so goddamn big with Mona, you call on _her_ when you feel
like it, not me. Don’t you come tomcatting around to me, Pasquini.” She
stood up, weaving slightly, and put a hand on the fender to steady
herself.
He stood beside her, and she saw that her angry disgust with him was
beginning to annoy him. He wanted a fight—that was part of the build-up
for him. But he wanted an eventual surrender, on his terms. Beebo showed
no signs of yielding and her revulsion for him was plain enough to anger
him.
“Maybe Mona was right,” he said, his voice getting thin and mean. “Maybe
you need a lesson before you learn what’s good for you.”
“I don’t need any from you,” Beebo spat at him. “I’m getting out of here
right now, and you’ll never see me again.”
“I’ll catch up with you one of these days,” he said. “No matter where
you go.”
“The hell you will. You’re not going to chase me all the way to
California just to kick my can,” Beebo said hotly. But when Pete began
to smile, she rethought her words in sudden panic.
“California?” Pete grinned. “Well, that’d almost be worth the trip. I
think I’d like it out there. Maybe get another autograph from Venus.
Huh, butch? You could work it for me.”
Beebo looked at him, her face a mask but her heart dismayed. “You
believe it if you want to,” she said. “If you think I’d work anything
for you, you’re more of a fool than a creep.”
She turned and ran out of the delivery yard while he watched her. He
didn’t like to let her go. But at least she was leaving a trail behind
her; one that shouldn’t be hard to follow. Pete smiled.
* * * * *
Beebo and Pat drank a few parting shots while Beebo packed her
strap-fastened wicker bag and waited for Jack to get home. She was ready
to go and a little tight when he rolled in at five.
“Having a party?” he asked.
“A goodby party. I’m getting off your back, Jackson,” Beebo said. “I’m
going to Hollywood.”
“They were bound to call you sooner or later,” Jack said. “Anyone can
see you’ve got talent.”
Beebo looked at the floor. “I’m going with Venus,” she said, humiliated
by it. “I didn’t know what else to do, Jack,” she added vehemently. “I
couldn’t live with Paula. I couldn’t live with you, not if I wanted to
keep your friendship. I had to quit the Pasquini job—Pete’s been helling
after me since I started. And besides—besides....” She stopped, throwing
her arms out and letting them drop against her sides.
“And besides, Venus asked you to go?” Jack said. Beebo nodded. Jack made
no comment, but she knew he thought it was asinine of her. “Did you ever
write to tell your father where you are?”
“I thought about it, but I didn’t know what to say.”
“Have you told Paula?”
“Not yet. I was waiting till you got home.”
“Paula’s more important.”
“Jack, damn it, Paula doesn’t own me!” she cried, angry because she knew
he was right. “My father doesn’t own me. I don’t have to tell them every
move I make, just because they—”
“They love you,” he finished for her. “Listen to me, little pal. You
came to this town to grow up and find yourself. You can do that without
breaking hearts. And so help me, Beebo, the first one you’re going to
break is your own.”
Beebo sat down on the bed. “Jack, I didn’t ask Paula Ash to love me,”
she said. “I never said I loved _her_.”
“Well, that makes it all swell.”
“She’s a sweet, fine girl. I wouldn’t hurt her for anything. But what
can I do?”
“Shall I give her that message?” Jack asked.
“I’ll tell her myself!” Beebo said, stung. But she wished, with all the
force of shame and indecision, that she didn’t have to.
Jack lighted a cigarette thoughtfully. “I’ve gotten to know her a lot
better the last few weeks. She was over last night, when you didn’t show
again. There’s a new girl in her life, Beebo.” He tossed his match in an
ash tray, scrutinizing Beebo’s startled face. “Miss Plaid Pajamas. You
know her?”
Beebo was shaken. “I know about her,” she said. “Oh, Paula....” She
recalled the sleeping pills, the tears. Paula’s red hair, her scent, her
green eyes luminous with love. She pressed a hand over her mouth, half
to control a sob, half in recollection of Paula’s first gesture of love.
“Regrets?” Jack said gently.
Beebo took a deep breath. “It’s Venus I love,” she said softly, but it
was strangely hard to say.
“Well, that’s that,” Jack said. “Off you go to follow your star.”
“I can’t help myself,” Beebo said, and that, at least, was true. “I’d
rather cut off my arm than hurt Paula, believe me.”
Jack smiled and lifted a hand to show he would not sermonize. “I wish
you well, pal. I wish you love,” he said. “I only wish—”
The phone rang. They all looked at each other. Finally Pat answered it,
while Jack and Beebo watched him. “It’s for you, Beebo,” Pat said,
holding out the receiver. She took it, looking apprehensively at him,
and he mouthed the word, “Paula.”
She shut her eyes. “Hello?” she said.
“Hello, Beebo.”
“Paula, I was just coming over. I—I wanted to tell you....” Her voice
trailed off.
“I know. I called to wish you Godspeed.”
“You what?” Beebo wheeled around to look at the two men.
“Pete called me,” Paula said. “He likes to play town crier.”
“God damn him!” Beebo exploded. “Paula, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell
you myself, at least. I—what did he say?”
“He said you were going to California with Venus Bogardus,” Paula said
simply.
“Is that all?”
“It doesn’t matter about the rest, Beebo. Pete always exaggerates. I
just wanted to tell you, it’s all right. I think you should go. It’ll be
a great experience.” Her voice faltered ever so slightly, and Beebo
wanted desperately to hold her, to be able to say, “No, I’ll stay with
you,” and somehow still be able to go with Venus. She felt as if she
were being physically ripped in half.
“I’m not being melodramatic, honest!” Paula said and she managed a small
laugh. “I’m a hopeless optimist. I think you’ll be back. Or I couldn’t
be such a good sport. Mona says ‘good sport’ is just another word for
‘sucker’. She’s wrong, isn’t she? Beebo?”
“Yes, Paula. She’s wrong, honey.” Beebo felt her own voice break and
Paula said quickly, “Don’t come over, there’s no need. It’s much easier
on the phone. Write to me now and then.”
“Paula? Is that girl in the plaid pajamas pestering you again?” Beebo
said anxiously. “Jack said—”
“Jack is my knight in shining armor. If things get bad, he’ll come
rescue me. He has before.” There was a pause. Beebo glanced gratefully
at Jack and then she heard Paula saying, “Goodby, Beebo. Good luck. No,
_bad_ luck, and come home soon. I love you, you know. You worm.”
“I know.” Beebo swallowed. “Goodby, Paula.” She let the receiver drop
into its cradle and stood with her head against the wall for a minute.
“You look like you’re set for a real pleasure cruise,” Jack said, noting
her wan face and full eyes.
Beebo picked up her bag in a brusque motion and strode to the door. But
she couldn’t turn the handle. “Thanks for everything, Jack,” she said,
full of fears at cutting loose from her only friend in the new world.
“Come back when Venus shows you out,” he said kindly. “Our bunk is your
bunk,” and he put an arm over Pat’s shoulder.
“She won’t show me out,” Beebo said with what pride she still had.
“Jackson, take care of that Paula for me.” She caught his shoulders in a
hard grip. “I don’t know if I can stand to do this to her.”
“You’re doing it,” Jack commented.
Beebo looked at her bag, then grabbed it and ran down the hall and front
steps without daring to look back.
* * * * *
Jack shut the door softly and gazed at Pat. “You’re tanked,” he said
indulgently. His thoughts were elsewhere.
“You didn’t tell her about Pete and Mona,” Pat said. “Why?”
“She’s going three thousand miles from here. Let’s hope she doesn’t need
to worry about those two twerps any more.”
“I’ve heard some of their sickening stories about Beebo around the bars
lately,” Pat brooded.
“Well, don’t give Pete and Mona all the credit,” Jack said shrewdly.
“Not that they ever say anything nice about anybody. But it helps to
have someone else feeding them information.... Somebody whose initials
are Pat Kynaston.” It was as sharp a reproof as Jack had given him.
“I only say _good_ things about Beebo!” Pat protested, instantly
wounded. “I adore that girl!”
“I know. Good things. That’s all they need. Somebody in the Cellar heard
you carrying on Tuesday afternoon: Beebo’s father, her home town, even
that thing at the livestock exhibition. You want Pete to hear that, Pat?
Think what he could do with it, if he wanted to.”
Pat sank dismally to the living room floor. “Lord, I didn’t realize. I
thought I was telling them how great she is. I thought Pete and Mona
were inventing their stuff.”
“They are, but not all of it. The nearer the truth they can get, the
louder they’ll shout it—screwed around just enough to make Beebo look
like the type of witch decent citizens should spend their Sundays
burning.”
Pat’s chin trembled. “I could strike myself dumb,” he said bitterly.
Jack sat down and put an arm around him. “Just watch it, lover. She’s
put herself in a spot to be crucified, if Pete has anything against her
... and Mona already has, or thinks she has. All that girl needs is a
whim, anyway.”
* * * * *
The Bogardus home was located in a lush and secluded area of Mandeville
Canyon Road in Bel-Air. It was huge, elegant, well-staffed and
maintained. The grounds were a glowing sweep of hand-tailored grass,
tropical palms exploding against the sky like green rockets, swimming
pools—two—and the noisy brilliance of equatorial blooms.
Toby showed Beebo around. They walked over the lawns in bare feet, and
Beebo marveled at it. It dazzled her eyes enough to take her mind off
her sore heart a while. “Every time you push a button, somebody runs up
with a martini,” she said. “It’s fantastic, Toby.”
“I wish it weren’t,” Toby said. “I wish I had an ordinary house to live
in.”
“Poor little rich boy,” she grinned. “Wants an ordinary mama and papa,
too, no doubt. Maybe when you’re older you’ll be glad you’re different.”
“How would you know? You didn’t have to grow up this way.”
“No, but I had to grow up,” Beebo said. “I would have traded my problems
for yours any day.”
“That’s what Leo says. His family didn’t have a dime,” Toby told her as
they picked their way over the manufactured rustic rocks circling one of
the pools.
“Where is that guy, anyway?” Beebo said. Leo worried her, like a family
ghost: much was made of him, yet he was rarely seen.
“He’s in S.F.,” Toby said. “The servants expect him back the end of the
week. He’s talking to a sponsor for Mom’s show.”
“What’s he like? How do you talk to him?” Beebo said.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry. He likes kids. Besides, he’s been talking
about getting somebody to help with the horses for years.” Beebo felt a
sudden wave of relief. She had not brought up the reason for her
presence here, and it seemed odd to her that Toby hadn’t either—till she
realized how Venus had explained it to him. “Besides,” Toby added,
“it’ll be nice to have you around. You can help me with my homework. You
ought to be good with the biology. For once, Mom didn’t get a square for
me.”
Beebo wondered how many other young people had preceded her in this
household; how many synthetic friendships with young tutors, horsemen,
and valets Venus had tried to promote for Toby, hoping he would turn
into the easy-mannered socialite she somehow pictured him when he was
grown.
At least it was reassuring to have a job, something legitimate to do to
explain her membership on the family staff.
Toby sat down at the pool’s edge and put his legs in the cool water. He
was well-developed for his age, though still only five-feet-six. Beebo
looked at his young male body, so carelessly normal, and she envied him
painfully.
“Leo’s jealous, but he’s tolerant, too,” Toby said. “I mean, he’s put up
with so damn many men tailing Mom, he knows how to outsmart or outlast
all of them. He doesn’t like it much, but he knows she needs them. At
least, that’s what _she_ says. I don’t know why a woman can’t be happy
with one man ... especially if he’s a good one.”
“Some women can,” Beebo said. But she was thinking that a man of Leo’s
knowledge and well-founded suspicions would doubtless take one look at
Beebo and know good and damn well what his beautiful wife was up to.
There was nothing to do but wait till he got home for the showdown.
* * * * *
She confronted Venus with her misgivings about Leo. “He won’t hurt you,
darling,” Venus said. “Don’t offend him and don’t defy him. He’s nervous
as hell with a girl around the house.”
“If he puts up with your men, why not with your women?” Beebo said
gloomily.
“I never cared much for the other girls,” Venus said circuitously. “Only
for you.”
“Well, that ought to ingratiate me with Leo for good,” Beebo said.
“Leo’s afraid for my career. I guess that’s the only thing we agree on.
My ‘normal’ affairs have scandalized enough people as it is. A gay
love—if it got out—would finish me, Beebo.” She looked at her
apologetically. “It’s hard for me to fight Leo. He—sort of—owns me.
Economically, I mean, like he owns this house.”
“Do you really hate him, Venus?”
Venus picked at a nonexistent thread on her skirt. “I guess he’s a
kindly man at heart. I think I’ve ruined his temperament.” She put her
arms around Beebo as they lounged on her private sun porch. “Beebo, are
you sorry you’re gay? Are you bitter about it?”
“Yes,” Beebo said, and Venus frowned. “All day long, when you go off to
the studio, I’m sorry as hell. At night, I get down on my knees and give
thanks.”
“There must have been bad times before I came along.”
Beebo surfaced from a kiss on Venus’s golden shoulder. “When I was
younger, I used to look out my bedroom window on summer nights,” she
said, “and the brightest star in the sky was Venus. I wanted to reach
out and take it in my hand. Put it in a box and make it mine forever.”
Venus chuckled. “I’m not in a box yet, thank God. And I’m a lot handier
than that dreadful planet.”
Beebo settled closer to her and said with comfortable intimacy, “I want
to share so many things with you, Venus. I want to see you sparkling at
parties ... take you shopping ... watch you at rehearsals....”
“You can’t,” Venus said, putting a finger on Beebo’s nose. Beebo brushed
it off, protesting. “There won’t be time, for one thing,” Venus
explained. “Not while we’re filming. And besides, Leo won’t let you.
You’re too young, you’re too noticeable, and you’re too—well, female.
I’ll have all I can do to keep him from putting _you_ in a box.”
“Well, of all the goddamn nonsense!” Beebo said, clouding up. “I just
want to drive you places and wait. Watch you from a distance. I’m
willing to be a servant, Venus, but not a dog on a leash.”
“Darling, use your head. What if we were seen together, and it was
common knowledge you lived here and went everywhere with me and—oh,
Beebo, don’t look so crushed. I don’t like it either.”
“You don’t want me around where you have to look at me all the time,”
Beebo sulked.
“Darling, I can’t look at you enough!” Venus said, half-amused and
half-concerned at the outburst. “You’re the handsomest thing I ever
saw.”
“Is that what I am? A thing?” Beebo said, swinging her legs to the
ground. She was surprised at herself for being pettish. But the moment
she questioned herself about it, her thoughts flew to Paula. _Paula
would never talk to me this way._
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Venus said.
“You don’t want your _things_ following you around in public.”
“Beebo!” Venus cried, hurt. “I love you!” Her words made Beebo turn back
and take Venus in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” she said, realizing all at once that Venus was crying.
“I adore you,” Venus wept. “I feel so free with you. Able to do the
things that used to terrify me. Able to _think_ about them without
shame. I never let go like this with anybody in my life, Beebo.” She
clung to her. “Darling, don’t shout at me for the things we can’t have.
Be glad with me for the things we _can_. I’m trying to look at the world
more charitably, Beebo—for you and for Toby. You try to look at me that
way. Don’t just love me, understand me. I need it so.” She wiped her
tears on Beebo’s shirt and glanced up at her.
“You know something silly? I want to dress up for you. I want to sit and
hear you talk. I don’t care whether I say a word. I want to be a real
actress, not an obedient puppet. I even want to mother my son. When you
tell me to do a thing, I fret for the chance to try.”
Beebo stared at her, amazed at this oddly touching admission. “I even
got a bunch of pamphlets from the Department of Agriculture,” Venus
said, “on how to raise chickens and wean calves.”
Beebo succumbed to laughter. “All you had to do was ask me,” she said.
“I’ll show them to you,” Venus offered, trying to get up, but Beebo
pulled her down again, her fit of pique soothed away.
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “Besides, I’ve got you half
undressed. What would the servants say?”
“They’d say Venus is in love,” Venus answered, letting Beebo hold her.
“And they’d be right.”
Beebo made love to her with a new tenderness. And yet, again, when they
fell asleep, she dreamed restlessly of Paula Ash.
* * * * *
Venus began to spend all the daylight hours, and some of the night, with
the production staff of _Million Dollar Baby_. Leo returned from San
Francisco, but Beebo would not have known it if Toby hadn’t pointed it
out.
They had been all day riding Leo’s horses in the boulder meadow
surrounding the Bogardus estate, and when they got in, Toby announced,
“Leo’s back.”
“How do you know?” Beebo asked, suddenly on her guard.
“Orange-juice glass,” Toby said, pointing to a brandy snifter with an
orange puddle at the bottom, sitting on an end table. “That’s all Leo
ever drinks. He says we’ve got orange trees in the yard and the juice is
free. He likes things that are free. Besides, he’s always on a health
kick. Right now it’s citric acid. When he’s home there’s always a mess
of sticky glasses around.”
“He’s not going to like seeing _me_ around,” Beebo said glumly.
“Why not?” Toby looked at her curiously. “The stables are cleaned up for
the first time in a year. And Mom is getting so nice to be around....
Gee, Beebo, he’ll probably hang a medal on you.”