“I loved him, Beebo, he was a part of your life,” Laura protested anxiously.
But Beebo ignored it. It was half a lie, spoken in affection, but still a lie. “I could always talk to him and it seemed as if he understood,” Beebo said. “I know you thought I was crazy. But there were times when I had to talk to somebody and there wasn’t anybody. Only Nix. I had him for seven years…since he was six weeks old.” And she clutched him to her and wept and Laura looked at her, all bloodied and heartbroken, and thought, She feels worse about the dog than about herself.
“Now that he’s gone…at least we’ll have one less thing to fight about.” Beebo looked very pale and odd. “Won’t we, baby?” she said.
“I—I guess so,” Laura said. She’s cracked! she thought. She went into the living room then, leaving Beebo alone for a few minutes, and called Jack. He was alone.
“Jack, I don’t know how to tell you. I—they raped Beebo.” Her voice was low and shaky.
Jack wasn’t sure whether she was kidding or not. He wasn’t even sure he heard her right. “Lucky bitch,” he said. “I wish they’d rape me instead. I’m never in the right place at the right time.”
“I’m serious, Jack.”
And when he heard the catch in her throat he believed her. “Who raped her, sweetheart?” he said, and the levity was dead gone from him.
“She doesn’t know. Some hoods. God knows who they were.”
“Did you call a doctor?”
“She won’t let me!” Laura’s voice rose with indignation. “Of all the nonsense I ever heard in my life! She’s afraid the doctor will find out she’s a female. I think we’re all going crazy—” But she felt Beebo’s hand then taking the phone from her, and she surrendered it without arguing and went to the couch and collapsed.
“Jack?” Beebo said. “I’m all right. It looks worse than it really is. I’ll live.” The front of her was sticky with Nix’s blood.
“You talk like it happens all the time,” Jack said with scolding sympathy. “Like getting you teeth drilled, or something.”
Beebo smiled wryly. “How is it you always know just what to say to a girl, Jackson? Make her feel real swell?”
“How is it that you’re such a goddamn prude you won’t let a doctor examine you? The doctor doesn’t give a damn what sex you are.”
“They killed Nix.” She threw it at him unexpectedly, silencing him about the doctor. And she described him with such detail that Laura didn’t want to listen. She got up and went into the bedroom to escape the conversation.
Beebo joined Laura on the bed ten minutes later, wearing her men’s cotton pajamas. Laura was too tired and weak to move. Beebo undressed her where she lay on the bed and dragged her under the covers naked.
“I don’t know what to do with Nix,” she said. ‘I’ll have to figure something out in the morning.”
They lay in each other’s arms, absorbed in their own thoughts. Laura’s mind was a potpourri of vivid impressions. She would never forget the bloody little dog, nor the fragrant skin of the Indian dancer, nor Beebo’s misery, nor those sinfully sweet kisses she stole from Tris….
“Jack’s coming over tomorrow,” Beebo said in her ear.
“Good.”
“Why ‘good’?”
“He’ll help us. He’ll make you see a doctor and he’ll do something about Nix. I don’t know, I just feel better with him around.”
“If I didn’t know for goddamn sure how gay you are, baby, I’d hate that guy.”
Laura had to laugh. “Beebo, if you get jealous of Jack I’ll send you to a head shrinker.”
“Okay, okay, I know it’s nuts. But you talk about him all the time.”
“I’m very fond of Jack. You know that. He brought us together, darling.” And she said it so gently that Beebo clasped her tighter and was reassured.
Laura slept, finally. But Beebo could not. She spent the night with her arms around Laura, taking her only comfort in Laura’s nearness and the sudden apparent return of her affection.
Jack came at eight-thirty. It was a Saturday morning and he had the day to spend. With his usual detachment he wrapped Nix up while Beebo was dressing. He carted him down the stairs in a garbage pail and left him for the morning pickup in a trash bin, well hidden in a shroud of papers. When Beebo came into the kitchen a few minutes later he just said, “He’s gone. Don’t ask me about it, Beebo. It’s all over.” He found it almost as hard to talk about as she did.
“Damn you, Jack,” Beebo said feebly. But she was glad he had done it for her. She felt lousy. All the excitement and anger that had sustained her the night before were gone, leaving a lassitude and nausea that swept over her in waves.
Laura made her go back to bed and fed her breakfast from a tray.
“Don’t leave me, baby,” Beebo begged and Laura promised to stay near by. But as soon as Beebo had swallowed a little food and kept it down, she fell asleep, and Jack pulled Laura to her feet and dragged her, whispering protests, into the kitchen.
“How can I talk to you in there?” he demanded and fixed them both some coffee.
Laura drank in silence, listening to his rambling talk with one ear, gratefully. She thought of Tris and wondered whether to confess to Jack about the dancer or keep it a secret. She knew he wouldn’t like it.
“Beebo acted kind of crazy last night,” Laura said. “I think she felt worse about Nix than about herself.”
“No doubt she did. But pretty soon she’ll feel her own aches and pains. Maybe I can find her another hound somewhere. I just hope to God she doesn’t use this thing to make a prisoner of you, Mother.”
“A prisoner?”
“She was getting pretty desperate about you, you know. I think
