SSC (2004) The Complete Stories of Truman Capote Read Free Page A

beautiful state.”
    He grinned. “You must be mixed up with some other place, Miss. There sure’s not a lot to catch the eye in Mississippi, ’cept maybe around Natchez way.”
    “Of course, Natchez. I went to school with a girl from Natchez. Elizabeth Kimberly, do you know her?”
    “No, can’t say as I do.”
    Suddenly she realized that she and the sailor were alone; all of his mates had wandered over to the piano where Les was playing Porter. Mildred was right about the acclimation.
    “Come on,” she said, “I’ll fix you a drink. They can shift for themselves. My name’s Louise, so please don’t call me Miss.”
    “My sister’s name’s Louise, I’m Jake.”
    “Really, isn’t that charming? I mean the coincidence.” She smoothed her hair and smiled with her too dark lips.
    They went into the den and she knew the sailor was watching the way her dress swung around her hips. She stooped through the door behind the bar.
    “Well,” she said, “what will it be? I forgot, we have scotch and rye and rum; how about a nice rum and coke?”
    “If you say so,” he grinned, sliding his hand along the mirrored bar’s surface, “you know, I never saw a place like this before. It’s something right out of a movie.”
    She whirled ice swiftly around in a glass with a swizzle stick. “I’ll take you on a forty-cent tour if you like. It’s quite large, for an apartment, that is. We have a country house that’s much, much bigger.”
    That didn’t sound right. It was too supercilious. She turned and put the bottle of rum back in its niche. She could see in the mirror that he was staring at her, perhaps through her.
    “How old are you?” he asked.
    She had to think for a minute, really think. She lied so constantly about her age she sometimes forgot the truth herself. What difference did it make whether he knew her real age or not? So she told him.
    “Sixteen.”
    “And never been kissed …?”
    She laughed, not at the cliché but her answer.
    “Raped, you mean.”
    She was facing him and saw that he was shocked and then amused and then something else.
    “Oh, for God’s sake, don’t look at me that way, I’m not a bad girl.” He blushed and she climbed back through the door and took his hand. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
    She led him down a long corridor intermittently lined with mirrors, and showed him room after room. He admired the soft, pastel rugs and the smooth blend of modernistic with period furniture.
    “This is my room,” she said, holding the door open for him, “you mustn’t mind the mess, it isn’t all mine, most of the girls have been fixing in here.”
    There was nothing for him to mind, the room was in perfect order. The bed, the tables, the lamp were all white but the walls and the rug were a dark, cold green.
    “Well, Jake … what do you think, suit me?”
    “I never saw anything like it, my sister wouldn’t believe me if I told her … but I don’t like the walls, if you’ll pardon me for saying so … that green … they look so cold.”
    She looked puzzled and not knowing quite why, she reached out her hand and touched the wall beside her dressing-table.
    “You’re right, the walls I mean, they are cold.” She looked up at him and for a moment her face was molded in such an expression he was not quite sure whether she was going to laugh or cry.
    “I didn’t mean it that way. Hell, I don’t rightly know what I mean!”
    “Don’t you, or are we just being euphemistic?” It drew a blank so she sat down on the side of her white bed.
    “Here,” she said, “sit down and have a cigarette, what ever happened to your drink?”
    He sat down beside her. “I left it out in the bar. It sure seems quiet back here after all that racket in front.”
    “How long have you been in the navy?”
    “Eight months.”
    “Like it?”
    “It isn’t much concern whether you like it or not.… I’ve seen a lot of places that I wouldn’t otherwise.”
    “Why did