The Royal Family (45 page)

At dawn she got up to beg the Queen for a fix and saw Tyler sleeping on the concrete. Scarcely knowing what she was saying, she muttered: That man’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me, kill me, kill me.

Oh, somebody’s awake, huh? said the Queen sleepily.

You know what I need, Maj.

Yeah, I know. C’mere. Come gimme a kiss . . .

Maj. . .

What?

Maj, I want you to fuck me.

All rightie, darling. Queen’s gonna . . . Oh, I’m so tired . . .

Sorry, Maj.

See, now you woke Sapphire. Give Sapphire a kiss, Dom. Give her a
nice
kiss. Okay. Now take her over an’ give her to Beatrice . . .

L-l-l-uh . . . trilled the idiot girl.

Sssh! said the Queen. Oh, now you done it. Now Strawberry’s awake, too. Come on upstairs with me, Dom. That’s where the rock is anyways. But you know you can’t keep shortin’ all the other girls on rock. You got to put back some of what you take.

Oh, bullshit, said the blonde angrily.

They went upstairs and the Queen yawned and said: Oh me oh my, am I tired. Okay, sweetie. Pull up your dress.

Maj?

What?

How do I know you really love me?

You don’t. Where’s my . . . all rightie, dear. Now bend over.

Maj?

You want to get laid or not? You sure got a lot of questions early in the morning.

I need a hit.

There you go.

Maj, it’s all bullshit, isn’t it? What you said about Sunflower.

I don’t bullshit, Domino.

You promise you won’t tell anybody?

Hey, you’re wastin’ that. Beatrice worked hard to earn that rock. Don’t let it . . .

The way you said she was like a saint and the
best
of us.

All right, bend over now, said the Queen, whose kiss was as delicate as the tiny droplets of mist on Tyler’s birdstreaked windshield as he sat on stakeout in the T.L. —And be quiet.

Please, Maj.

I
promise
I love you just as much as I ever loved Sunflower. Domino, I’m your Queen. I belong to you as long as you need me. I
got
to love you.

The others don’t like me, do they?

That’s your little cross to bear, ain’t it? Listen, Dom. Anytime you really want to, you can make friends. Inside that cussedness you’re such a good girl . . .

Maj, I—oh, I feel so
sick.

That’s ’cause you’re pregnant, you silly silly girl. You got to go to the clinic an’ get aborted. You want me to tell Chocolate to take you?

Not that bitch. Who does she think she is? She always—

All rightie. I’ll tell Justin then.

Thank you, Maj. I appreciate it. But I have to tell you something about Chocolate. She—

Don’t be a tattletale, Dom.

Now I get it. I bet you’re really on her side. That’s how you’ve always been, Maj. But I’m not going to—

Lordy lordy day, the Queen muttered.

When the Queen and Domino came back downstairs, Henry Tyler was waiting. Domino brushed past him without a word and lay down again to sleep. Tyler knelt down and took the Queen’s hand.

What is it, Henry? she said, smiling in spite of herself.

Maj, he whispered in a low voice, what can I do to get over Irene?

Why do you want to do that?

Because it hurts so much.

Ah, said the Queen. You want to grab some of that happiness.

Yes,Ido. . .

She stroked his head. —You saw Sunflower. And I showed you Sunflower’s pain. I opened her up for you while she lay sleeping and
showed
it to you. And you still don’t understand.

Are you a lez? said Domino. I’m a lez.

No no no, said Beatrice.

Have you ever fantasized about being with a woman? said Domino. Have you been fucked? Have you ever been
fucked?

The Queen says—

She’s trash, chuckled Domino, leaning her shiny teeth and shiny shiny eyes and shiny vinyl skirt over the cage. —It’s so boring, being Queen of the Whores. I’d rather be God.

I’m ’fraid, said Beatrice. I’m ’fraid of you.

But with the utmost tenderness, Domino lowered her pale, almost incorporeal face onto Beatrice’s; and out of habit and fear Beatrice submitted. Soon the two women were kissing each other, cheeks swallowed up in each other’s mouths, while behind them a big-breasted masturbator was screaming and kicking the cage.

I want you to keep your authority, Domino whispered to the heterosexual girl. But I want you to give me permission to . . . through your bra . . . let me touch your nipples very very softly.

And she kissed her. And she licked her mouth, licked her face.

You’re a sport! Domino laughed. You’ve earned my respect.

The Queen had picked up a new girl named Bernadette, a slender black lady who resembled a beautiful cat-devil. Domino felt attracted. She went to Bernadette and said: If somebody gave you a million dollars, what would you do?

What would I do? Shit! laughed the other woman lazily. Nobody gonna give me a mill. They’re all too cheap in this town.

Strawberry came running. —Hey, Domino, your date’s here!

Who is it?

That sixty-year-old bastard with the cuff links. That one you call the sonofabitch.

God, I hate him. I won’t go. I won’t go!

What’s he do?

He likes to stick his fist up me real violent-like and make me cry. For sixty bucks it’s not worth it. All right, tell him I’m coming. I hate that man. Goddamn him. Goddamn you. Goddamn all of you just sitting around on your asses waiting for a million dollar dick.

I tole you there ain’t no mill in this town, said Bernadette complacently. Hey, Domino, can I borrow your silver high heels tonight?

Oh, fuck off, said the blonde, grabbing her purse and running out.

Tyler called up his friend Jack Chin at the public defender’s office and asked him if he had ever heard about the Queen. —Sure, I’ve heard legends, laughed Chin. I mean, that stuff goes back—Christ, I mean, it predates DNA tests and rubber bullets. In fact, Henry, with all due respect, it’s probably an urban myth. Everybody loves to pin the rap on the Queen, but—

How about Sylvia Fine? Does that name mean anything to you?

You’re talkin’ about Domino, right? When she was in juvenile hall they used to call her Two Bits, I dunno why. Sure. Who works for the PD and
doesn’t
know Domino? That is one mean bitch, and I’m talkin’ about my client! Heh! If that bitch bought me a drink I’d check it out to make sure it wasn’t poisoned! Three pending cases, one involving stalking with a knife. I guess they’re just pals now. Oh, yeah. I got the acquittal . . .

And how about Brenda Wiley?

Brenda who?

Chocolate’s the street name. She—

There’s scores of Chocolates working in the Western Addition, I think I—anyway, what’s the point?

They both work with the Queen.

Look, Henry. This goes back to when the Tenderloin was boomin’. Street prostitution was—oh,
man.
And there was this vice cop who worked prostitution detail. He suddenly became kind of wealthy. In essence he was combin’ the Tenderloin to find the newbies, you know, the soft young chickies who’d just kinda fallen into the life. And he’d go up to them and say: I can protect you. I have a place. And he did, too! Had his own house, up in Pacific Heights, I think it was. Well, finally one of them turned on him. But the strange thing was, before it ever went to trial his heart just stopped even though he was a young guy in good shape. And all the girls kept talkin’ about the Queen, who’d waved her magic fuckin’ wand or whatever it was to punish him. Listen, Henry. It’s all bullshit.

Toward the end of that summer the police stepped up the vigor of their sweeps of Capp Street, which accordingly fell silent, and on those dark nights warmish like stale beer, the rattle of a trash can lid or the loom of a stuporous whore on somebody’s doorstep was a surprise, while a block away beneath the blonde streetlights of South Van Ness paced the girls in lavender leotards with clops like shoed horses. The Uptown Bar on Seventeenth and Capp had added new taps of microbrewed beers within the frosty nickel-plated organ pipes which readied themselves to play hymns upon that altar of alcohol. And just outside the Uptown, Bernadette was working.

Hey, the man said, have you seen Sunflower?

That’s funny that you should talk about Sunflower, because just the other day I was thinking about all the people who aren’t there, said Bernadette.

She smiled, and from one eye a tear so slowly came, and even more silently than the number fourteen bus whose white face shone like radium in the night as it eased past the Ritespot Cafe, that wetness traveled down her nose.

I used to date her, the man said. I was kind of looking for her.

What’s your name?

Bruce.

You want a date, honey? Maybe I can help you out?

Well, actually I was looking for Sunflower, he said. I feel something special for her.

You know, said Bernadette, Sunflower and I were good together.

Ah, said the man.

I actually feel very pretty today, said Bernadette.

So she’s not around? the man said.

I’m sorry, baby. You won’t see her around anymore.

What happened to her?

Overdose. I’d rather not talk about it.

Ah, the man said again.

So do you want a date or don’t you?

The man hesitated.

Come on, said Bernadette. I give really good head if that’s what you’re into.

How much?

Twenty.

Sunflower gave pretty good head for ten.

Well, honey, Sunflower’s dead so you gotta respect the living.

Slowly the man began to reach into his pocket. Bernadette’s heart now beat most gleefully, and according to her long since memorized stage directions she murmured: Listen, baby, if you pay me now and wait just five minutes while I go get well it’ll only cost you fifteen.

Oh, the man said. Well, all right.

He gave her a ten, four ones, and four quarters.

Bernadette ran so happily, vanishing so joyously into the night while the man sat against a wall. She looked back two blocks later and could dimly see him sitting. She laughed.

Justin, Justin, gimme a full dime bag! she commanded, thrusting the tenner into the tall man’s palm. He looked at her without joy or sorrow. Then he went around the corner and in a moment returned with the bag.

Hey, what’s this? This is no full bag.

Took the Queen’s commission, the tall man grunted. You know you owe her. And don’t get in my face about it. You
lucky
I was here. Look at you. Ran all the way back to lie down before that monkey hopped on your back. Looks like you just beat the monkey. Where is he now? He gnawin’ at your neck? You look like you’re gonna puke, so don’t you ever dare accuse me of gafflin’ you. Better go do your business, bitch.

You can take your commission but don’t call me bitch or I’ll tell the Queen.

He looked at her. —All right. I’m sorry, Bernadette, he said.

Somebody was asking about Sunflower, she said then.

Who?

I dunno. Some jerk.

Outside the Uptown the man sat, getting angrier and angrier. Bernadette was long gone, upstairs in her room with two fingers on her clit and a needle hanging from her ass.

Domino had done the same thing to Dan Smooth once. The next time she saw him, Smooth had only laughed and said: I don’t recognize your authority. —That was about the time he’d stopped sleeping with anybody over fifteen. Domino claimed that Smooth couldn’t get it up anyway . . .