The Last Picture Show

  Billy grunted with surprise and tried to back out, but he was trapped.

  “Why this is the dumbest thing I ever saw,” Jimmie Sue said. “It don’t even know what to do.”

  The boys flashed the light long enough to see that Jimmie Sue had managed to catch Billy with her legs, but she yelled at them to turn it off and they did. Apparently Billy got close enough to the object of it all that he caught on, because he stopped pushing backward and in a moment the pickup began to rock a little from side to side. Everybody yelled encouragement.

  “Quit that yellin’ and get hold of this thing,” Jimmie Sue said irritably. “He ain’t in.”

  The flashlight was brought into play again and it was discovered that Billy, cramped as he was, had completely missed his natural target and was poking energetically at a deep wrinkle in the folds of Jimmie Sue’s stomach. Duane and Leroy laughed until they could barely stand up, but the younger kids were more fascinated than amused. None of them had ever seen so strange a sight, and they made no effort to correct Billy’s aim. Jimmie Sue was getting madder by the minute.

  Sonny stood by the rear end of the pickup, determined not to look. It wasn’t that he thought Billy would mind him looking—it was just that he didn’t really want to look. Jimmie Sue was uglier than Charlene, and the pickup would smell like onions for weeks.

  “Why goddamn you, you little thing!” Jimmie Sue yelled furiously. “Now look what a mess you made!”

  Sonny knew from the tone of her voice that it was time to get Billy out, so he hurried around to the door. The boys still had the flashlight on and were cackling and giggling: Billy had reached the end of his journey while still in the wrinkle, and Jimmie Sue was pounding at his face, trying to back him out of the pickup. Sonny managed to scatter the crowd enough to get the door open and help Billy out, but calming him down was something else. He was scared and confused and shivering, and Jimmie Sue had bloodied his nose. Sonny helped him get dressed and even found the empty Coke bottle for him, but Billy no longer wanted it.

  “Well, now I know idiots is just as bad as Mixicans,” Jimmie Sue said. “Don’t you wake me up for that crazy thing no more. I wouldn’t mess with him agin for less than three-and-a-half.”

  By the time they got back to the poolhall the front of Billy’s shirt was all covered with blood. Sonny couldn’t get the nosebleed completely stopped. He knew Sam the Lion was going to be furious, and he didn’t blame him: it was no way to treat Billy. He wished he had known how to stop the whole business, but the only possible way would have been to offer to fight if they didn’t let Billy alone, and he couldn’t very well offer to fight when his own best buddy was one of the crowd. If Lester and Jacy hadn’t run off to the swimming party none of it would have ever happened.

  As soon as the pickup stopped Billy jumped out and ran in the poolhall. It was officially closed, but they could all see Sam the Lion inside, reading a newspaper he had spread out on one of the tables. All he was really doing was waiting for Billy to come in. They lived in a plain little three-room apartment above the poolhall, and Sam never went to bed until Billy was in safe.

  Billy ran right on past him, up the stairs, and Sam left his paper and followed him. The boys waited nervously outside, wondering if they would be able to narrate the episode in such a way that Sam the Lion would see the humor in it. Sonny knew they couldn’t and waited miserably for Sam to come down, but the boys who thought they might strutted around on the sidewalk talking with great bravado. Duane was sleepy and lay down in the cab of the pickup and went to sleep. The boys could have left, but none of them really wanted to go home until Sam the Lion came down and bawled them out. His bawling them out would relieve their minds of whatever minor guilt feelings they had about Billy, and would leave them free to enjoy the celebrity of having participated in such an event.

  Finally the light went out in the upstairs apartment and Sam the Lion came down. He opened the door and stood quietly a minute, looking at the boys. Sam the Lion was not the type who yelled and cussed about the pranks boys pulled. They could not see his face, but the light from the poolhall touched his white mane of hair.

  “Who’s got his underwear?” he asked, after a minute.

  Sonny had them, and it put him on a terrible spot. He had been so anxious to get Billy back in his pants that he had forgotten to put the underwear on him—he picked them up later and stuffed them in his pocket. For a moment he was tempted to say nothing and pretend the underwear was lost—if he pulled them out and handed them over it would make him seem more of a participant than he had been. Sam didn’t withdraw the question and the other boys began to look at Sonny nervously, so he took the underwear out of his pocket and awkwardly handed them over.

  “When I was helpin’ get his pants on I couldn’t find them,” he said. “I just forgot to hand them to him.”

  “Who went and bloodied his nose?”

  “Jimmie Sue Jones,” Leroy said. “We thought he was getting tired of being a virgin so we chipped in and bought him a piece. Jimmie Sue got mad about somethin’ and gave him that nosebleed.”

  “Jimmie Sue?” Sam said, startled. “You what?” He had supposed it was just a simple case of the boys taking Billy’s pants off, something that happened all the time. When he realized what Leroy said he was stunned, and sat down in the doorway of the poolhall.

  Sonny became really worried. “Is Billy all right?” he asked. “We’re sorry, Sam.”

  “He went to sleep,” Sam said, a little absently. “Did he want to go with Jimmie Sue?”

  “Not hardly,” Leroy said. “He didn’t even know what he was supposed to do.”

  Sam scratched his ankles for a minute and then stood up again. He didn’t look particularly mad, just tired and discouraged.

  “Boys, get on home,” he said. “I’m done with all of you. I don’t want to associate with you anymore and I don’t want Billy to, either. Scaring an unfortunate creature like Billy when there ain’t no reason to scare him is just plain trashy behavior. I’ve seen a lifetime of it and I’m tired of putting up with it. You can just stay out of this poolhall and out of my picture show and café too.”

  With that he closed and locked the door and went upstairs to bed. The boys were thunderstruck. They had been prepared for Sam to rage and storm and instead he had simply closed the door and locked them out. No one knew what to say. They stood on the cold sidewalk a minute, confused.

  “We’re his best customers,” Leroy said. “He can’t run us off, can he?”

  Sonny and the other boys knew very well he could. It made Sonny feel a little sick. They all crawled back into the pickup and Sonny delivered them to their homes. Duane didn’t fully wake up until they were back at the rooming house, and when Sonny told him what Sam the Lion had done he thought it was hilariously funny. Since he had been lying down and Sam had not seen him it was clear to Duane that he was not included in the banishment.

  “Good thing I went to sleep when I did,” he said. “I’d hate to have to eat at that drive-in all the time.”

  He went in and contentedly went back to sleep, but Sonny stayed awake and reread most of an old copy of Outdoor Life. Duane taking the news the way he had made the evening even more depressing, and it had been depressing enough as it was.

  Kissing Mrs. Popper had been the only good thing that happened all night, and Sonny had no idea what would come of that. It occurred to him that at least it would be something exciting to think about in bed, so he turned the light off and tried it. Her face and the touch of her lips were fresh in his mind and it worked pretty well, though occasionally, before he finished, a few old images of Jacy and Genevieve slipped in. Jacking off was an old game, monotonous, but a good way to get to sleep when all else failed.

  CHAPTER XI

  WHEN SONNY KISSED Mrs. Popper outside the Legion Hall it seemed to him that a whole spectrum of delicious experience lay suddenly within his grasp. No kisses had ever been so exciting and so full of promise, neither for him nor for
Ruth. She felt as if she were finally about to discover something she had somehow missed discovering twenty years before. Neither of them foresaw any great difficulties, just the minor difficulty of keeping it all secret.

  Both, in fact, were so excited that they longed to talk about it to someone, but that they couldn’t do. In Thalia sex was just not talked about. Even Genevieve would go to considerable lengths to keep from calling a spade a spade. Everything acknowledged the existence of sex: babies were born now and then, and things to prevent them were sold at the drugstores and one or two of the filling stations. The men told dirty jokes and talked all the time about how they wished they had more pussy, but it didn’t really seem to bother many of them so long as the football team was doing well. The kids were told as little about sex as possible and spent most of their time trying to find out more. The boys speculated a lot among themselves and got the nature of the basic act straight when they were fairly young, but some of the girls were still in the dark about it when they graduated from high school. Many girls simply refused to believe that the things the boys peed out of could have any part in the creation of babies. They knew good and well that God wouldn’t have wanted any arrangement of His to be that nasty.

  The only thing everyone agreed on was that the act itself could only be earthly bliss. Once the obstacle of virginity was done away with, mutual ecstasy would be the invariable result. One or two of the bolder girls knew differently, but they didn’t want to be thought freaks so they kept quiet about their difficulties.

  When Sonny and Ruth met again, the Tuesday after the dance, they both expected things to be simple and wonderful, and they were both disappointed. For one thing, they both felt compelled to go through with the unnecessary trip to the doctor; both of them were nervous and tense and they rode to Olney in silence. The dusty air had given Ruth a sniffle, and Sonny could see the bluish shadows under her eyes. The wait in Olney was short, but on the way back they found themselves even more at a loss for conversation than they had been coming. Ruth could not imagine what had possessed her to think she could bring off such a thing as a love affair. They each concluded that they were not as appealing in the daylight as they had been in the dark, so they sat looking out their separate windows at their separate sides of the road. There was little in the leafless winter landscape to cheer them.

  It was only when Sonny drove the Chevrolet into the dimness of the garage, with Herman’s lawn tools and hedge shears hanging neatly on the walls, that they regained some hope. They both realized they were about to miss the chance they had been counting on. Sonny reached for Ruth’s hand and she quickly scooted over toward him and they kissed. The kiss was awkward but warm and they didn’t think of moving apart—for several minutes they let their mouths and faces touch.

  Both would have been just as happy to stay in the garage all afternoon, but they felt obligated to complete the experience, and for that they had to go in the house, where things were not so good. The wallpaper in the bedroom was light green, and blotched in places. It was the bedroom where Ruth and Herman had spent virtually all their married nights: on one wall there was a plaque Herman had been given for taking a troop of Boy Scouts to the National Jubilee. Two or three copies of High School Athletics lay on the bedside table.

  “Are you sure he won’t come?” Sonny asked. The room seemed full of the coach.

  “You know he won’t,” Ruth said. “He’s just starting basketball practice.”

  She took his hand again and they kissed standing up. Neither of them really believed what she said: as they kissed both of them kept imagining the coach walking in. They were so conscious of him they hardly felt the kiss, but Ruth was determined to go on however dangerous it was, even if Herman did walk in.

  They were unable to think of a smooth way to undress—it would have been better to do it while they were still kissing, but neither of them was expert enough for that. Ruth had on a dress and a slip, both of which had to come off over her head. Sonny could not even get her bra unhooked with the dress still on. Both of them wished for something to say, something that would break the tension, but neither could think of anything. Finally they simply broke apart and hurried about their own undressing. Ruth got her dress off, but when she bent to pull the slip over her head one of the straps caught on a bobby pin—for an awkward moment she could not get the slip loose. Her face was hidden in the silk. Sonny moved to help her, but just as he did she tore it loose and looked up at him with a wry smile, as if to comment on her awkwardness. They took their undergarments off at the same time, both of them choked with embarrassment. Ruth glanced at Sonny’s body, curious and a little frightened. He was two or three steps away from her and for a moment they did not know how to get to one another. Sonny was too self-conscious about his erection to move. Finally, with another wry smile, Ruth sat down on the bed and he sat down with her. When she lifted her arms to embrace him he saw the small scar on her breast. They fell over in an embrace but in a moment scrambled up again: the room was cold and they needed to be under the covers.

  When they were covered and warm they felt better and kissed again with pleasure. They were amazed at the feel of one another’s skin, but in a minute or two they began to be nervous again. It seemed to them they must have been lying there kissing for half an hour at least. Ruth touched her hand to Sonny’s throat and chest now and then, but other than that she didn’t move. He felt very unsure: it occurred to him that perhaps his experience was inadequate. There might be some way of doing it that was especially suitable to ladies, some way he knew nothing about.

  Ruth had her eyes closed and was waiting trustfully for a beautiful thing to happen to her. She knew that Herman knew nothing about the beautiful thing, or that if he did he had no interest in giving it to her. But she supposed Sonny would know: she would only have to wait and receive it. His body was very warm against her. It was only when she opened her eyes and looked at him that she remembered how young he was and realized he didn’t know what to do.

  “It’s all right,” she said, opening her legs. Sonny gratefully moved about her, but there was another long moment of awkwardness when they tried to join. Sonny was not absolutely sure of the target, and when he found it Ruth could not at first accommodate him easily. When he moved she gasped and Sonny’s face was so close to hers that he could not tell whether she felt pain or pleasure. She said nothing, so he kept moving—in a moment it became easier and pleasure made him move faster and more surely.

  For Ruth the discomfort was only momentary, but even once it ceased she could not manage to cross over into pleasure. The bed had begun to squeak. As Sonny moved more confidently it squeaked louder, and Ruth could not help hearing it. She would never have imagined it could squeak so loudly. Soon the squeaking drove all hope of pleasure from her mind. The noise made her fearful that someone outside the house might hear it; anyone walking on the sidewalk in front of the house could hear it, she was sure.

  In a few moments she was near panic: she was convinced that everyone in Thalia could hear the squeaking bedsprings. If all the cars stopped, if the housewives came to their doors and listened, they could all hear the squeaking bed and would know what she was doing. It was a horrible bed; she felt it had betrayed her. No one could receive a beautiful thing with such a squeaking going on beneath her. She tried to lie very still, but Sonny’s movement went on, and the sound was constant. Finally she began to cry, and when the tears dripped down her cheeks and wet Sonny’s neck he realized that something was wrong after all. He raised his head and saw that Ruth’s eyes were flooded with tears. She was ashamed that she had stopped him and quickly hooked her arm over his neck so he wouldn’t raise up and see her face again. Sonny felt she must want him to stop but his body didn’t want to and in a moment he went on, hearing the springs only as a faint background to his pleasure. Soon he finished and lay still upon her.

  As soon as the squeaking stopped Ruth felt better. She kept her arms around Sonny, holding him so he could not see her
face and now and then wiping the tears out of her eyes with the back of one hand. Once Sonny became still it was very pleasant to have his body upon hers—he was so warm and young, almost like a child. She had always wanted a child more than anything, but Herman wouldn’t hear of it—he didn’t want the expense. On the rare occasions when he took his pleasure of her he was always careful to wear a condom, even though they made Ruth’s bladder hurt. Having Sonny upon her was very different, and deeply pleasant. She ran her hands up and down his back, and when she felt composed again lifted her arms so he could raise his head.

  “I’m sorry I cried,” she said. “I guess I was just scared.”

  “Aw, he isn’t going to come,” Sonny said, no longer worried. “They’re runnin’ plays right now, I bet.”

  “No, not scared of that,” Ruth said, touching his mouth softly with her fingers. “I was scared I could never do this, I guess. I wanted to be wholehearted about it, but I wasn’t.”

  She was silent a moment. “Do you know what it means to be heartbroken?” she said. “It means your heart isn’t whole, so you can’t really do anything wholeheartedly.”

  Sonny wanted to leave, but he didn’t think he should, quite so soon. Mrs. Popper was sad, but at least she seemed calm and she kept touching him softly with her hands. He kissed her lightly and her cheeks were warm; then he stretched and drew the covers back a little, so he could see more of her body. She was very slim and small-breasted, her arms a little too thin. When Ruth saw he was looking at her she grew frightened. She had never considered her body attractive, and she was afraid that if Sonny looked too long he would not want to be with her anymore. She turned on her side and curled toward him, her head on his thighs. Her shoulder bones stuck out, making her look even thinner. Sonny rubbed her back a minute and then got out of bed and quietly dressed. When he sat down on the edge of the bed to tell her good-bye she was on the verge of tears again.