Detour Read Free Page B

But if her face and hair were lovely, her body was something special. She was of slight build, with a waist so slender every time she bent over you expected her to break. I won't go into all the details, but engineers ought to go to her for lessons in streamlining. With her looks she didn't have to know how to dance.
    It took me all of three weeks to gather up enough nerve to ask her for a date. When finally I did she said she had a date; however, the following night she let me take her home on the Fifth Avenue bus that runs up Riverside. It was quite a long ride—she lived uptown near Seaman Avenue and Dyckman Street—but in all the time it took us to get there I don't think I said ten words to her. She had me completely buffaloed, and before the bus passed 72nd Street I was in love with her. I could feel her little body against my arm and the perfume she had on was enough to make any man bite through a bar of cast-iron. It was heaven, let me tell you. I guess she must have realized how I felt, because when we reached her door she kissed me good night and said I was sweet and good night again, she'd see me tomorrow; then she kissed me again. I rode home on the downtown subway that night and passed my stop.
    All this was about three months after my father died. I was still feeling pretty low about it and the apartment seemed awfully dark and empty without him. His old Morris-chair continued to stand by the living-room window where he used to sit by the hour and stare down into the street. Right after the funeral I packed everything of his away and stored it in the basement because I didn't want to think about him any more. It only made me feel rotten. But now and then I'd run across one of his pipes or something and I'd go soft as mush. For that reason I stayed away from home as much as possible. I would have moved in a minute if the landlord would have let me break the lease.
    One night Sue and I got to drinking after the club closed and we wound up only a few blocks from where I lived. I took her up there, and to my astonishment she said she'd appreciate it if I let her stay all night. She explained she was tight and couldn't face her mother in that condition. She didn't look that tight to me, but you can bet your sweet life I didn't send her home. We slept together for the first time that night and after that we went to my house a lot.
    I was truly overboard by then. However, don't be misled and think it was one of those sexual attachments story-writers are always talking about. Of course I enjoyed staying with her, but there was something else, too. Words can't describe it, but if you've ever been in love you'll know what I mean.
    There were times when I wanted to hold her off at a distance so mat I could see her and appreciate her without my emotions being hammered to pieces; and then at other times I couldn't get close enough. I'd imagine there was a wall between us and I'd try my damnedest to break through. I felt that I was outside, and that wasn't enough. Sometimes I'd lay awake at night fighting the desire to reach out and turn on the bed-lamp so I could look at her. Once I did turn it on. It woke Sue up and she got sore, so I never tried it again. But I wanted to. Do you get what I mean? If you don't, it's the best I can do.
    Then one day her mother found out about us. Don't ask me how. I haven't the faintest idea unless Sue talked in her sleep or kept a diary. Being one of the straitlaced kind—the kind of woman who wears a corset under her nightgown—she told her daughter to get out and stay out. She wasn't fooling, either. I went around and tried to argue with Mrs. Harvey, but it was no soap. When I explained that my intentions were honorable, that I loved her daughter and intended to marry her just as soon as I earned a little more money, she slammed the door in my face. So there remained nothing else but for Sue to move in with me, which she did, bag and baggage. We got along beautifully, Sue and I. True,