The Red Car Read Free Page A

Henry Miller. Honestly, I thought there was too much sex in his books. I never had a good conversation with Daniel because either he did not talk at all or he never stopped talking. It was a relief to know that tonight was probably going to be a nonstop-talking night. Which meant that I was getting ahead of myself, assuming that it would be a night. That he would let me go home with him. I couldn’t take him back to my apartment, not anymore.
    â€œI haven’t had dinner yet,” I said. “I’m going to get a burrito.”
    Daniel laughed.
    â€œOh shit,” he said. “And I thought the only reason you came here was to find me and get laid.”
    I looked at Daniel. I think I blushed. I did not want to blush.
    â€œYou know I am going to fuck you tonight,” he said.
    It was weird to me how that was exactly what I wanted,but at the same time, I wished he wouldn’t speak those words out loud.
    â€œOkay,” I said quietly.
    â€œLet me buy your burrito,” Daniel said.
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    I was not sure why, but I liked it, Daniel spending money on me. It was a rare thing, though the night we met, he had bought me a drink. A vodka tonic. I was brand-new in San Francisco, right out of college, and I thought it was thrilling, a guy buying me a drink. I didn’t think, how tacky, this creep is buying me a drink. I thought, how amazing, I put on lipstick and a short skirt and look what can happen.
    â€œI am not going to get up,” he said. “I am going to finish reading this scene.”
    He handed me twenty dollars.
    I looked at the bill. I shoved it into my pocket, along with Alice’s twenty-dollar bill, and I bought a burrito and a Negra Modelo. All of this money being handed over to me made me think of Jonathan Beene. I had asked him for money and he had given it to me. I did not like to think about him.
    I ate the burrito and I drank the beer while Daniel read me a dirty passage of Henry Miller out loud in the taqueria. I knew, as he read to me, that someday, I would be older and that I would be mortified at myself, for allowing this to happen. I was twenty-three years old.
    Part of me also thought that I should not be able to eat my burrito in front of Daniel, but I did. I was hungry. I did not like the picture of the whore on the table, but the burrito, it was good. I felt happy to be alive, to not be an anorexic, to be outside of that apartment, in a city that I loved, far from home,from where I was from, far from New Jersey. Out of my apartment, I understood that it was a sinister situation back there.
    We did go back to Daniel’s apartment.
    We did have sex.
    I fell asleep, my head on his chest, pleased with myself, but at some point Daniel shook me awake.
    â€œI hope this doesn’t seem weird to you,” he said. “But I would prefer it if you don’t sleep here tonight.”
    â€œReally?” I said.
    I started putting on my jeans before I was fully awake. I had them on, backwards, realizing I could not zip them up that way. Daniel tapped me on my shoulder, handing me my underwear. I started the process all over again.
    â€œI sleep better when I am alone,” Daniel said, though this was news to me.
    â€œIt’s okay,” I said. Of course, it was not okay. It was two in the morning. I was able to find and put on the rest of my clothes. It was safe enough to walk home. Or maybe it wasn’t safe enough, but I felt safe enough, and on the way back I stopped into the Safeway on Market Street, which was open twenty-four hours. I bought chamomile tea and broccoli coleslaw and even found a bar of unscented organic soap for Alice, but when I got back to the apartment, I discovered it was locked from the inside with the dead bolt.
    Any other night, I might have thought of going to sleep at Daniel’s. Instead, I fell asleep in the hallway, using my backpack as a pillow.
    J UDY SHOOK HER HEAD WHEN she saw me the next day,