Hot Night in the City

swirl around a carrot-nosed snowman. 'Your own private snowstorm. A handy thing on a hot night like this!'

'I won it at the county fair when I was a kid. I used my ride money to buy a raffle ticket, and I won third prize. I told my folks I found it at the fairground, because they're dead against raffles and bingo games and all kinds of gambling. My snowstorm's the only thing I took with me when I left home. Except my clothes, of course.'

'So your snowstorm's your friend, eh? A trusted companion through the trials and tribulations of life.'

'I keep it under my pillow, and sometimes at night when I'm feeling real blue I shake it and watch the snow whirl, and it makes me feel safer and more... oh, I don't know.' She shrugged.

'Back to your sentry post, loyal snowstorm.' He returned the paperweight to beneath her pillow and patted it into place; then he reached up, took her hands, and drew her down to sit beside him.

'Please...' she said in a thin voice. 'I'm scared. I really shouldn't of... I mean, I've never...' She knew her hands were clammy with fear, and she wished they weren't.

He spoke softly. 'Listen. If you want me to go, I'll just tiptoe down the stairs and slip out. Is that what you want?'

'...No, but... Couldn't we just...'

'You know what I think? I think I'd better go. You're scared, and I wouldn't want to talk you into anything you don't want to do.' He rose from the bed.

'No, don't go!' Her voice was tight with the effort to speak softly.

He sat down again, but left a distance between their hips.

For a moment she didn't say anything, just sat there kneading the fingers of her left hand with her right. Then she squeezed them hard. She had come to a decision. She began speaking in a flat tone. 'I was sitting at the table, like I do every night. Practicing my shorthand by the light of the street lamp because it's too hot to put on the light. And suddenly I was crying. I just felt so empty and lonely and blue! I wasn't sobbing or anything. The tears just poured out and poured out. I didn't think I had so many tears in me. I was so lonely.' Her voice squeaked on the word. 'I don't know a soul here in the city. Don't have any friends. Even back home, I never went on a date. My folks wouldn't let me. They said that one thing leads to another. They said boys only want one thing. And I suppose they're right.'

'Yes, they are,' he said sincerely.

'After a while I stopped crying.' She smiled wanly. 'I guess I just ran out of tears. I splashed cool water on my face and tried to work at my shorthand some more, but then I just closed the book and said no! No, I won't just sit here and mope! I'll dress up in my best and go out and find someone. Someone to talk to. Someone to care about me and hold me when I'm feeling blue.'

'You decided to go out and just... let yourself be picked up?'

'I didn't think about it that way, but... Yes, I guess so.'

'You wanted to make love with a total stranger?'

'No, no. Well... not exactly. You see, I've never...' She shook her head.

'Shall I tell you something? I knew you were a virgin when I first saw you. Yes, I did. You had that Good Girl look. Like June Allyson. But somehow—don't ask me how—I could tell that the good girl was looking for a bad boy to make love to her. Funny, how I could tell that, eh?'

'But you're wrong. I was just looking for someone to talk to. Someone who might care about me.'

'Oh. So you didn't want to make love, is that it?'

'I don't know. Maybe I did. Sort of, anyway. I didn't think it out or anything, I just took my towel and went down to the bathroom and had a long cool bath, then I put on my good dress, and out I went. Just like that.'

'...Just like that.'

'I took the bus downtown, and I walked around. Boys on street corners looked at me. You know, the way they look at any woman. But none of them... I guess I'm not... I know I'm not pretty or anything...' She paused, half hoping for a contradiction. Then she went on. 'They looked at me, but nobody said hello or anything, so...' She shrugged.

'So you decided to go to the movies. Woman's World.'

'Yes.' Her voice had a minor key fade of failure.

'But hey, wait a minute! You did meet someone! Not much of a someone, maybe. Just your common garden variety drifter. But you talked to him for hours over coffee. And now... here we are.'

'Yes, here we are,' she echoed. 'And I'm afraid.'

'Of course you're afraid. That's only natural. It isn't every day that a virgin sits in the dark with a bad boy she hardly knows.' She didn't respond, so he pursued. 'Even though you're a virgin. I suppose you know about how two people... love, and all?'

'Yes. Well, sort of. Girls used to giggle about it in the school locker room. They talked about how people... did it. I didn't believe them at first.'

'I know just what you mean. To a kid, it seems such a silly thing to do. Putting your peeing equipment together. How could that be fun? And when you think of your own folks doing it...! It's enough to gag a maggot, as a folksy old tramp might say.'

'The girls at school used to make up terrible stories about... it. Just to see me blush. I was easy to tease because I was shy, and I didn't know anything. My mother never told me anything. Once the girls played this joke on me? They gave me a folded piece of paper and asked me to write down my favorite number, then on the next line my favorite color, then my second favorite color, then—oh, I don't remember all the things; but the last question was whether I bit ice cream cones or licked them. Then they unfolded the paper and read it out loud. And there in my own handwriting I had written how many times a day my boyfriend and I did it, and what the color of his... thing... was when we started, and what color it was when we ended, and stuff like that.'

'And finally, your confession that you licked it.'

She nodded miserably. 'I didn't go back to school for the rest of that week, I was so embarrassed. I pretended I was sick. And then I really did get sick. I mean... that's when my periods started.'

'But, of course, that couldn't have had anything to do with the girls' teasing.'

'Oh, I know that, but still... coming right after and all...'

'Yeah, I understand. Kids can be rotten to one another.'

'That was years ago, but I still get tears in my eyes when I think about it.'

'Yeah... tears of rage. I have that sometimes. The rage just wells up in me and I blub like a kid.'

'You do? Really?'

'Sure. So you saw all those embarrassing things written in your own handwriting, and now you're learning to write in a different way. In shorthand.'

She frowned. 'That's not why I'm taking shorthand.'

'Could be part of it. Psychology is a screwy business. Like me playing all sorts of roles because I don't want to be—' He shrugged. 'So, you've never made love. Gee. Still, I suppose you've necked with boys. Been caressed and... you know... touched.'

'No, never. I've never had a... boyfriend.' She said the word in a tone of gentle awe. 'Boys never found me attractive in that way.' She made a dismissive half-chuckle. 'Or in any other way, really. My mom used to say it was a blessing, me being plain. At least my looks wouldn't get me into trouble.'

'But you've had dreams about lovemaking. That's only normal.'

She didn't answer.

'And I suppose you've made love to yourself.'

She didn't speak.

'I mean, you've... you know... played with yourself and caressed yourself. There's nothing more natural.'

'My folks wouldn't think it's natural. They'd say it was a sin.'

'Well, of course they would. But do you think it's a sin?'

After a moment she said, softly, '...yes.'

'But you do it anyway?'

'...yes...'

'Hm-m. Well, that's mostly what our making love would be like. Only I'd be doing... you know... what you do for yourself. I'd be touching you and caressing you and bringing you pleasure. Unless, of course, you don't want me