American fiction -- 20th century; American poetry -- 20th century; Short stories, American
Liz took her coat off the peg on the kitchen wall and they went out
the door. Jim had his arm around her and every little way they
stopped and pressed against each other and Jim kissed her. There was
no moon and they walked ankle deep in the sandy road through the
trees down to the dock and the warehouse on the bay. The water was
lapping in the piles and the point was dark across the bay. It was
cold but Liz was hot all over from being with Jim. They sat down in
the shelter of the warehouse and Jim pulled Liz close to him. She was
frightened. One of Jim’s hands went inside her dress and stroked over
her breast and the other hand was in her lap. She was very frightened
and didn’t know how he was going to go about things but she snuggled
close to him. Then the hand that felt so big in her lap went away and
was on her leg and started to move up it.
“Don’t Jim”. Liz said. Jim slid the hand further up.
“You musn’t Jim. You musn’t”. Neither Jim nor Jim’s big hand paid any
attention to her.
The boards were hard. Jim had her dress up and was trying to do
something to her. She was frightened but she wanted it. She had to
have it but it frightened her.
“You musn’t do it Jim. You musn’t.”
“I got to. I’m going to. You know we got to.”
“No we haven’t Jim. We aint got to. Oh it isn’t right. Oh it’s so big
and it hurts so. You can’t. Oh Jim. Jim. Oh.”
The hemlock planks of the dock were hard and splintery and cold and
Jim was heavy on her and he had hurt her. Liz pushed him, she was so
uncomfortable and cramped. Jim was asleep. He wouldn’t move. She
worked out from under him and sat up and straightened her skirt and
coat and tried to do something with her hair. Jim was sleeping with
his mouth a little open. Liz leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
He was still asleep. She lifted his head a little and shook it. He
rolled his head over and swallowed. Liz started to cry. She walked
over to the edge of the dock and looked down to the water. There was
a mist coming up from the bay. She was cold and miserable and
everything felt gone. She walked back to where Jim was lying and
shook him once more to make sure. She was crying.
“Jim” she said, “Jim. Please Jim”.
Jim stirred and curled a little tighter. Liz took off her coat and
leaned over and covered him with it. She tucked it around him neatly
and carefully. Then she walked across the dock and up the steep sandy
road to go to bed. A cold mist was coming up through the woods from
the bay.
OUT OF SEASON
OUT OF SEASON
On the four lira he had earned by spading the hotel garden he got
quite drunk. He saw the young gentleman coming down the path and
spoke to him mysteriously. The young gentleman said he had not eaten
yet but would be ready to go as soon as lunch was finished. Forty
minutes or an hour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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