I picked up the phone.
“Belane Detective Agency….”
“My name is Grovers, Hal Grovers, I need your help. The police laugh at me.”
“What is it, Mr. Grovers?”
“A space alien is after me.”
“Ha, ha, ha, Mr. Grovers, come on now…”
“You see, everybody laughs at me!”
“Sorry Grovers. But before you talk to me any more I gotta tell you my fee.”
“What is it?”
“6 dollars an hour.”
“That doesn’t seem to be a problem.”
“No rubber checks or you’ll be carrying your walnuts in a sack, got it?”
“Money is not my problem,” he said, “it’s this woman.”
“What woman, Grovers?”
“Hell, the one we’re talking about, this space alien.”
“The space alien is a woman?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“How do you know this?”
“She told me.”
“You believe her?”
“Sure, I’ve seen her do things.”
“Like what?”
“Well, float up through the ceiling, things like that…”
“You a drinking man, Grovers?”
“Sure. How about you?”
“Wouldn’t do without it…Now, listen, Grovers, before we go any further you’ll have to get down here in person. It’s the third floor of the Ajax Building. Knock before you enter.”
“Any special knock?”
“Yeah, Shave-and-a-Haircut, Six-Bits, then I’ll know it’s you…”
“All right, Mr. Belane…”
I killed four flies while waiting. Damn, death was everywhere. Man, bird, beast, reptile, rodent, insect, fish didn’t have a chance. The fix was in. I didn’t know what to do about it. I got depressed. You know, I see a box boy at the supermarket, he’s packing my groceries, then I see him sticking himself into his own grave along with the toilet paper, the beer and the chicken breasts.
Then the secret knock came at the door and I said, “Please enter, Mr. Grovers.”
He walked in. Not much to him. Four feet eight, 158 pounds, 38 years old, greengray eyes with a tic in the left eye, small ugly yellow mustache, same color as hair which was thinning on top of his too round head. He walked with his toes out, sat down.
We sat looking at each other. That’s all we did. Five minutes went by. Finally I got pissed.
“Grovers, why don’t you say something?”
“I was waiting for you to speak first.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
I leaned back in my chair, lit a cigar, put my feet on the table, inhaled, exhaled, and blew out a perfect smoke ring.
“Grovers, this woman, this…space alien…tell me a bit about her…”
“She calls herself Jeannie Nitro…”
“Tell me more, Mr. Grovers.”
“You won’t laugh at me like the police did?”
“Nobody laughs like the police, Mr. Grovers.”
“Well…she’s a hot number from outer space.”
“Why do you want to get rid of a hot number?”
“I’m afraid of her, she controls my mind.”
“Like how?”
“Like anything she says, I have to do.”
“Suppose she told you to eat your poo-poo, would you do that?”
“I think I would…”
“Grovers, you’re just pussy-whipped. Lot of men like that.”
“No, it’s the tricks she does, they’re frightening.”
“I’ve seen all the tricks, Grovers, and then some…”
“You haven’t seen her appear out of nowhere, you haven’t seen her vanish through the ceiling.”
“You’re boring me, Grovers, this is a bunch of crap.”
“No, it ain’t, Mr. Belane.”
“‘Ain’t’? Where the hell you come from Grovers? You talk like a backwoodsman.”
“And you don’t look like a detective, Mr. Belane.”
“Huh? What? Then what do I look like?”
“Well, let’s see, let me think…”
“Don’t take too fucking long. This is costing you 6 dollars an hour.”
“Well, you look like…a plumber.”
“A plumber? A plumber. O.k. What would you do without a plumber? Can you think of anybody more important than a plumber?”
“The president.”
“The president? There you go, wrong! Wrong again! Everytime you open your mouth you say something wrong!”
“I’m not wrong.”
“There you see! You did it again!”
I put out my cigar and lit a cigarette. This guy was a pure piece of crap. But he was a client. I looked at him a long time. It was hard work looking at him. I stopped looking. I looked over his left ear.
“O.k. what do you want me to do? With this space alien? This Jeannie Nitro?”
“Get rid of her.”
“I’m no hit man, Grovers.”
“Just get her out of my life one way or the other.”
“You had sex yet?”
“You mean today?”
“I mean, with her.”
“No.”
“You got a place of residence on this bimbo? Phone number? Occupation? Tattoo? Hobby? Peculiar habits?”
“Only the last…”
“Like what?”
“Like she floats through the ceiling and all that.”
“Grovers, you’re crazy. You don’t need me, you need a shrink.”
“I’ve been to the shrinks.”
“And what do they say?”
“Nothing. Only they charge more than 6 dollars an hour.”
“What do they charge?”
“One-hundred-seventy-five dollars an hour.”
“That proves you’re crazy.”
“Why?”
“Anybody pays that has got to be crazy.”
Then we just sat there looking at each other. It seemed pretty dumb. I was trying to think. My temples hurt.
Then the door swung open. And in walked this woman. Now all that I can tell you is that there are billions of women on earth, right? Some look all right. Most look pretty good. But every now and then nature pulls a wild trick, she puts together a special woman, an unbelievable woman. I mean, you look and you can’t believe. Everything is perfect undulating motion, quicksilver, snake-like, you see an ankle, you see an elbow, you see a breast, you see a knee, it all melds into a giant, taunting totality, with such beautiful eyes smiling, the mouth turned down a bit, the lips held there as if they were about to burst into laughter over your helplessness. And they know how to dress and their long hair burns the air. Too goddamned much.
Grovers stood up.
“Jeannie!”
She glided into the room like a strip teaser on roller skates. She paused before us as the walls trembled. She looked at Grovers.
“Hal, what are you doing with this 2nd rate dick?”
“Hey, hold it, bitch!” I said.
“Well, Jeannie, I got a little problem and I thought I might seek some help.”
“Help? From who?”
“Can’t say. Cat’s got my tongue.”
“Hal, you’ve got no problem as long as you have me. I can do anything better than this 2nd rate dick.”
I stood up. I was standing up anyhow.
“Yeah, wench? Let’s see you get a 7 inch hard-on.”
“Sexist pig!”
“See, I gotcha, gotcha!”
Jeannie wallowed about the room a bit, driving us all mad. Then she swung around. Looked at Grovers.
“Come here, dog! Crawl across the floor toward me! Now!”
“Don’t do it, Hal!” I screamed.
“Huh?”
He was crawling across the floor toward Jeannie. He got closer and closer. He crawled up to her feet, then stopped.
“Now,” she said, “lick the toes of my shoes with your tongue!”
Grovers did it. He licked away. He kept going. Jeannie looked at me and smirked. A real smirking smirk. I couldn’t handle it.
I leaped up.
“YOU FUCKING WHORE!” I screamed.
I unbuckled my belt, slipped it from my pants, walked around the desk with the belt doubled up.
“You fucking whore,” I said, “I AM GOING TO NAIL YOUR ASS!”
I rushed toward her. What was left of my soul quivered in a joyous excitement. Her miraculous buns blazed in my mind. Heaven turned upside-down and quivered.
“Drop that belt, jerkoff,” she said, snapping her fingers.
The belt dropped out of my hand. I stood frozen.
She turned to Grovers.
“Come on, silly boy, get up off your knees. We are leaving this stupid place.”
“Yes, darling.”
Grovers got up and followed her to the door, it opened, closed and they were gone. I still couldn’t move. The bitch must have used a ray gun on me. And I was still frozen. Maybe I had chosen the wrong profession? After about twenty minutes I began to feel a tingling all through my body. Then I found that I could move my eyebrows. Next my mouth.
“God damn it,” I said.
Then the other parts began to gradually loosen up. Finally I took one step. Two steps. Then more steps, toward my desk. I got around behind it. Opened a drawer. Found the pint of vodka. Unscrewed it. Had a good straight hit. Decided to call it a day and begin all over again tomorrow.