He walked away. A warm moon was dimly sensible above the lights of the
street. He decided to go to Coney Island and look for the lost Bessie.
It would cost him only a dime, and she owed him money. He smiled a
little savagely and thought that he would collect its equivalent. Then
he boarded the subway, cursing himself for a fool and cursing his
appetite for the fool's master. Why did he chase that particular little
harlot on an evening when his mind should be bent toward more serious
purposes? Certainly not because he had any intention of getting back his
money. Because he wished to surprise her? Because he was angry that she
had cheated him? Or because she was the only woman in New York whom he
knew? He decided it was the last reason. Finally the train reached Coney
Island, and Hugo descended into the fantastic hurly-burly on the street
below. He realized the ridiculousness of his quest as he saw the miles
of thronging people in the loud streets.
"See the fat woman, see Esmerelda, the beautiful fat woman, she weighs
six hundred pounds, she's had a dozen lovers, she's the fattest woman in
the world, a sensation, dressed in the robes of Cleopatra, robes that
took a bolt of cloth; but she's so fat they conceal nothing, ladies and
gentlemen, see the beautiful fat woman...." A roller coaster circled
through the skies with a noise that was audible above the crowd's
staccato voice and dashed itself at the earth below. A merry-go-round
whirled goldenly and a band struck up a strident march. Hugo smelled
stale beer and frying food. He heard the clang of a bell as a weight was
driven up to it by the shoulders of a young gentleman in a pink shirt.
"The strongest man in the world, ladies and gentlemen, come in and see
Thorndyke, the great professor of physical culture from Munich, Germany.
He can bend a spike in his bare hands, an elephant can pass over his
body without harming him, he can lift a weight of one ton...." Hugo
laughed. Two girls saw him and brushed close. "Buy us a drink, sport."
The strongest man in the world. Hugo wondered what sort of strong man he
would make. Perhaps he could go into competition with Dr. Thorndyke. He
saw himself pictured in gaudy reds and yellows, holding up an enormous
weight. He remembered that he was looking for Bessie. Then he saw
another girl. She was sitting at a table, alone. That fact was
significant. He sat beside her.
"Hello, tough," she said.
"Hello."
"Wanna buy me a beer?"
Hugo bought a beer and looked at the girl. Her hair was black and
straight. Her mouth was straight. It was painted scarlet. Her eyes were
hard and dark. But her body, as if to atone for her face, was made in a
series of soft curves that fitted exquisitely into her black silk dress.
He tortured himself looking at her. She permitted it sullenly. "You can
buy me a sandwich, if you want. I ain't eaten to-day."
He bought a sandwich, wondering if she was telling the truth. She ate
ravenously. He bought another and then a second glass of beer. After
that she rose. "You can come with me if you wanna."
Odd. No conversation, no vivacity, only a dull submission that was not
in keeping with her appearance.
"Have you had enough to eat?" he asked.
"It'll do," she responded.
They turned into a side street and moved away from the shimmering lights
and the morass of people. Presently they entered a dingy frame house and
went upstairs. There was no one in the hall, no furniture, only a
flickering gas-light. She unlocked a door. "Come in."
He looked at her again. She took off her hat and arranged her dark hair
so that it looped almost over one eye. Hugo wondered at her silence. "I
didn't mean to rush," he said.
"Well, I did. Gotta make some more. It'll be"--she hesitated--"two
bucks."
The girl sat down and wept. "Aw, hell," she said finally, looking at him
with a shameless defiance, "I guess I'm gonna make a rotten tart. I was
in a show, an' I got busted out for not bein' nice to the manager. I
says to myself: 'Well, what am I gonna do?' An' I starts to get hungry
this morning. So I says to myself: 'Well, there ain't but one thing to
do, Charlotte, but to get you a room,' I says, an' here I am, so help me
God."
She removed her dress with a sweeping motion. Hugo looked at her, filled
with pity, filled with remorse at his sudden surrender to her passionate
good looks, intensely discomfited.
"Listen. I have a roll in my pocket. I'm damn glad I came here first. I
haven't got a job, but I'll get one in the morning. And I'll get you a
decent room and stake you till you get work. God knows, I picked you up
for what I thought you were, Charlotte, and God knows too that I haven't
any noble nature. But I'm not going to let you go on the street simply
because you're broke. Not when you hate it so much."
Charlotte shut her eyes tight and pressed out the last tears, which ran
into her rouge and streaked it with mascara. "That's sure white of you."
"I don't know. Maybe it's selfish. I had an awful yen for you when I sat
down at that table. But let's not worry about it now. Let's go out and
get a decent dinner."
"You mean--you mean you want me to go out and eat--now?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"But you ain't--?"
"Forget it. Come on."
Charlotte sniffled and buried her black tresses in her black dress. She
pulled it over the curves of her hips. She inspected herself in a
spotted mirror and sniffled again. Then she laughed. A throaty, gurgling
laugh. Her hands moved swiftly, and soon she turned. "How am I?"
"Wonderful."
"Let's go!"
She tucked her hand under his arm when they reached the street. Hugo
walked silently. He wondered why he was doing it and to what it would
lead. It seemed good, wholly good, to have a girl at his side again,
especially a girl over whom he had so strong a claim. They stopped
before a glass-fronted restaurant that advertised its sea food and its
steaks. She sat down with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I'm goin' to
eat you out of house and home."
"Go ahead. I had a big supper, but I'll string along with some pie and
cheese and beer."