Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr Read Online Free PDF

might be able to
hide the bennie. She had to try! Her Mother staggered and they
hobbled toward the bed (mustnt run), wanting her Mother near, wanting
the comfort; and feeling calmer, safer, as her Mothers face paled and
her hands shook; yet calculating just how far she could go with the
scene so Mother would be properly concerned yet still capable of
protecting her from Arthur . . . and she may yet be able to hide the
bennie) ...
    Why couldnt he be out. Why did he have to be home. If
only he were dead. You sonofabitch die. DIE (Whats the matter with
mom-mys little girl. Did ooo stub oo little toesywoesy Georgieworgit?
Dont touch me you fairy. Dont touch me. Look whos calling someone a
fairy. Aint that a laugh. Ha! You freak. Freak FREAK FREAK FREAK! Why
you rotten punk-Georgette leaned more heavily upon Mother and swung
the injured leg from side to side, groaning. Please Arthur. Please.
Leave your brother alone. Hes hurt. Hes passing out from loss of
blood. Brother? Thats a goodone. Please— Georgette groaned louder
and started sliding from Mothers neck (if only she could get to the
bed and hide the bennie. Hide the bennie. Hide the bennie); please,
not again. Not now. Just call the doctor. For me. Please. ) If he had
stayed out. Or had just gone to the kitchen . . . Georgie porgie
puddin n pie . . . Why do they do this to me? Why wont they leave me
alone??? (Arthur looked at his brother and grunted with disgust then
went to the phone and Georgette tried frantically to get the bennie
out of her pocket but her slacks were so tight she couldnt get her
hand in and she was afraid to move away from her Mother so she could
get her hand in her pocket. She fell on the bed and rolled on her
side and tried to get them out and under the mattress or even the
pillow (yes, the pillow) but her Mother thought she was rolling with
pain and held her hands trying to comfort and soothe her son, telling
him to try to relax, the doctor will be here soon and you will be
alright. Dont worry darling. Youll see. Everything will be alright .
. . and then her brother came back, looked at his Motiier then the
ripped slacks and blood and said they had better take the pants off
and put a little mercurochrome on the leg and Georgette tried to yank
her hands free, but her Mother gripped tighter, trying to absorb her
sons pain, and Georgette fought furiously, trying to hold her slacks
and keep her brother from pulling them off. She screamed and kicked,
but when she did the pain really throbbed through her leg, and she
tried biting her Mothers hands but her brother pushed her head down
(the G string! The bennie!!!). Stop. Stop! Go away. Dont let him.
Please dont let him. It will be alright son. The doctor will be here
soon. Nobody wants to hurt you. You rotten fairy, stop. Stop! You
queer sonofabitch. STOP, but brother loosened the belt and grabbed
her pants by the cuffs and Georgette screeched and her Mothers tears
fell on her face, begging Arthur to be careful; and Arthur pulled
them slowly yet still tore loose the clot from the wound and blood
started oozing, then flowing down the leg and Georgette fell back
crying and screaming, and Arthur let the pants fall to the floor and
stared at his brother . . . watching the blood roll to the sheet, the
leg jerk . . . listening to his brother crying and wanting to laugh
with satisfaction, and even happy to see the misery on his Mothers
face as she looked at Georgette and lifted his head in her arms and
stroked his head, humming, shaking tears from her face . . . Arthur
wanting to lean over and punch his face, that goddamn face covered
with makeup, wanting to tear at the leg and listen to his fairy
brother wail . . . He straightened up and stood silently at the foot
of the bed for a moment halfhearing the sobs and his thoughts, then
stepped around to the side and started yanking at the Red Spangled G
String. You disgusting degenerate. In front of my Mother you have the
nerve to lay here with this thing on. He yanked,