when a loud clamor swept through the floor like a sinister, fiery wind. I saw the women surge forth at the other end of the store. No one will believe me, but I swear I saw lightning coming out of their eyes-there were sparks all over the place. I gave Betty a sad look.
“Run, baby. Run,” I said.
I hoped to be able to hold them off until Betty made it to the emergency exit. Instead of taking off, though, she just let out a sigh and stood there, her feet nailed to the floor.
“It’s no use… I’m tired,” she murmured.
The women were halfway to us, screaming. They engulfed the shelves like a frothy wave. I threw my money in the air. The tacky old guy ran under the shower, his arms reaching up toward Heaven. I made my move with lightning speed-pivoted on one leg, picked Betty up in my arms, took off for the emergency exit, and sprang out into the light, in under four seconds.
I didn’t look back to see if anyone’s hand got caught in the door. I slammed it behind me and went out onto the fire escape overlooking a small street. I put Betty down. I held the door closed once again. I was in the same bind as before, only this time luck was on my side-I didn’t have to pay anyone to get out of it. There was an old metal bar leaning against the wall. I spotted it just as the pounding began on the other side. An angel must have left me that bar-it was exactly the right length to wedge under the doorknob. Let them scream, I thought. I wiped my forehead. A blinding light pulsated all around us, hissing. Betty stretched herself. She smiled, and it almost put me over the edge. I ran down a whole flight of stairs, howling, then climbed back up on my tiptoes. Things were lightening up a bit behind the door. Betty was almost laughing. I motioned for her to hush.
“We won’t go down, we’ll climb over the roof,” I whispered.
The roof, it turned out, was actually a huge terrace-a sort of sun-filled swimming pool. We hopped over the parapet. One last list pounded the door, then there was silence. I went straight to the shade. I sat where the sun could hit only my legs. I reached out for Betty to come sit next to me. She seemed astonished to find herself there.
My plan was less than terrific. It involved a big risk, and this made me nervous. All they’d have to do was use their heads a little, and we’d be cornered-tarred, feathered, and burned at the stake. Still, I didn’t have much choice. To try to make a run for the car, I’d have needed a girl who was very together.
This was not the case. Mine, it turned out, had lead in her shoes. I waited for a minute, then, taking every possible precaution, I went to scope out the main drag. The herd was running along the sidewalk. Those in the lead had already turned the corner. The sky was perfectly blue. The sea was calm and green. There was no beer in sight-nothing that could have distracted me. I walked across the terrace to see what things were like on the fire-escape side. In passing, I grabbed Betty by the chin and kissed her, thus summing up the situation.
“I want to go home,” she murmured.
“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll be on our way in five minutes.”
I flattened myself against a wall and watched the women arrive. In my opinion their relentlessness had something unhealthy about it-as if they were trying to solve some racial problem. I couldn’t let them see me. I flattened myself like a pancake against my little piece of wall. It was all I could do to keep from lighting up a cigarette. I heard them babbling down below. Then I heard the sound of galloping. I stuck my head out and saw them heading back up the street, elbows pumping. Who knows? Maybe those little cunts were off, foaming at the mouth, to see contacts in high places.
I went back and sat down next to Betty, thinking that we might get out of this alive after all. I took her hand in mine and played with it. I felt her resist. The sun had calmed down, gotten over its hysteria-stopped forcing itself into every shadow. The light dimmed from high beams to medium. The terrace turned into a rectangular island of tar paper. It was nearly pleasant out. I can tell you in all honesty that I’ve known worse places than that. No sense exaggerating.
“See? You can see the ocean…” I said.
“Um-hm…”
“LOOK OVER THERE, SOME GUY’S WATER SKIING ON ONE LEG!”
She didn’t look up. I put a lit cigarette in her mouth. I crossed my legs, staring at a spot on the horizon-there was nothing special about it, it just pleased me.
“I don’t know why you did this,” I said. “I don’t want to know, and I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just forget it ever happened.”
She nodded slowly, without looking at me. I was content with this as a response-a flutter of eyelashes or the squeeze of a finger would also have done the trick. Though I never completely understand what some people say to me, I could roam around in Betty’s silences without ever getting lost-it was like walking down the street of my hometown. I knew her better than I knew anything else in the world-at least eighty-five percent of it… something like that-so well, in fact, that I was never even sure she was moving her lips when I heard her talk. You’ve got to admit that sometimes life fills you with wonder, really knows how to get to you. And guys like me are the biggest pushovers.
We stayed there for a while, not saying anything. Strangely enough, I started to feel my oats again. I felt a smile spread across my face. I felt like I had the world by the short hairs. I could have pulled them if I wanted to. I didn’t. I just let it all melt, like chocolate in the sun-not in my hand. I felt
“Okay,” I said. “You think you can run?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“No, I mean run-I mean REALLY run, you get it-I’m talking like in the Olympics, and no looking back. Not like the last time.”
“Right. Run. I know what run means. I’m not a moron.”
“Great. I see you’re feeling better already. Anyway, we’ll find out soon enough. If you can’t make it, wait for me here-I’ll swing by with the car to pick you up.”
She made a face at me, then jumped to her feet.
“You can talk to me that way when I’m eighty-five…”
“I won’t have the strength,” I muttered.
Before going over the parapet, I went and checked out the street. The women were nowhere to be seen. Betty and I went down the fire escape on the front side of the building, our born again legs hurrying us along. We hung by our hands from the bottom rung, then dropped to the sidewalk and took off up the street like bats out of hell.
Of all the girls I’ve known, Betty was by far the fastest runner. Running next to her was purely and simply one of the things I loved best. Usually, however, I preferred doing it in a more serene setting. This time, I didn’t glance next to me to see her breasts dancing, nor did I ogle at the flush that rose in her cheeks. No, none of that-just a delirious dead run for the car.
We slammed the doors. I turned the key, and off we went. Pulling out onto the street, I almost burst out laughing. I felt it rising in my belly. Then I saw one of the women running alongside us. The windshield exploded. Glass fell like raindrops onto our legs. By sheer reflex, I managed to spit out a piece that had flown into my mouth. I put my foot to the floor, and tore out of there. Cursing, I zigzagged down the avenue, people honking behind me.
“Jesus fucking Christ, get down!” I yelled.
“Did we blow a tire?”
“No. They must have hired a hit man!”
She bent over to pick up something, by her feet.
“You can slow down now,” she said. “It was just a beer can.”
“A full one?”
We drove twenty-five miles, with our hair in the wind. Our eyes teared a little, but it was nice out and the sunset was lovely. We chewed the fat. Whoever invented the automobile must have been an illuminated, solitary genius. Betty had her feet stuck in the glove compartment. We stopped at a garage that had a sign: “WINDSHIELDS-IMMEDIATE INSTALLATION” We didn’t even get out of the car while the guys did the job. We
