"Dart, Iris Rainer - Beaches 01 - Beaches" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dart Iris Rainer)

"I don't want to go anywhere with you, Berger, you turd," she said. "So forget I said yes to the prom, okay?"
He wasn't one bit disappointed.
"Okay. I'll take my cousin Joanne," he said. "See you."
But before he could hang up Gee Cee shrieked, "Hey, wait a minute, Berger. Just tell me one thing. What in hell does B.P. mean?"
"B.P.? Huh? Oh, yeah ..." and Stanley Berger laughed. "It means Brillo Pad, Cee Cee. You know? Like your hair." He laughed again and hung up.
She didn't go to the prom. In fact, the night of the prom she made Leona process her hair with some foul-smelling lotion that was supposed to do the opposite of what permanents do. By the next day, she no longer had Brillo Pad hair or straight hair either, which had been the hoped-for result. It was more matted and wiry than straight, but it didn't look like a Brillo Pad. Shit, Cee Cee thought. Now it looks like the bristles of a clothes brush. She welcomed her frizzy hair as it began to grow back in, but it didn't matter anymore. She was a graduate now and who cared what any of those high-school boys thought. Someday she'd go back to the Bronx and take John Perry with her and every one of those boys and their jerky girlfriends would shit from the shock. Hah.
Now as she walked, wild fantasies of Broadway marquees danced in her head. She'd better get some sleep. Tomorrow her show was opening, and she needed all of her strength to knock 'em dead!
Cee Cee's heart was pounding wildly. Maybe it was the third glass of champagne. No, it was the memory of her curtain call. The applause had risen audibly when she stepped on the stage to take her bow. She had glanced briefly into the wings, where Bertie stood clapping more than anyone else, even though she held under her arm one of the dancers' skirts that had ripped during the first act. Cee Cee noticed Bertie had tears in her eyes. Christ, she was a good friend. She was proud. Proud of Cee Cee's applause. Maybe almost as proud as Cee Cee herself.
And now, at the opening night party, the tiki torches on the beach outside of John Perry's house looked to Cee Cee like birthday candles on a huge sandy cake. Probably because the only other times she'd ever felt nearly as good were her birthdays when Leona would help her open the inevitable box of new tap shoes, and then the box containing a pretty new outfit that Cee Cee would want to wear to school, but Leona would say, "Sure, sure," and then make her save it to wear to auditions.
Cee Cee was elated. My God, how she deserved this. Perry hugged her after the show. A little reserved, but then the others were around, and whispered so only she could hear, "I told you so."
She laughed, too loud, hoping the others would know, could tell her secret. He was hers.
"Gee." It was Bertie. The two friends embraced. The party had been going on for at least an hour, but Bertie had just arrived. She was so thorough. She would stay at the theater after every performance, darning little holes in the costumes, ironing for the next night so she wouldn't have to do it during the day, when she was working on the clothes for next week. Even now, the night before she was leaving, she still finished her work. She was a wonderful person.
"How do you feel?"
"Great," Cee Cee said.
"Want to go for a walk?" Bertie asked.
"ok "
Sure.
The water looked like a huge black monster advancing on the beach, then creeping away, then advancing again. The moon was not quite full, but very bright. The girls carried their shoes and walked slowly and silently. The tide was high and they stayed close to the houses, sometimes catching sight of a plastic bucket or shovel left by a child who had played there during the day.
"I'll miss you, Gee," Bertie said.
"Yeah," Cee Cee said. Too choked to respond.
They walked silently again for a long time until Bertie broke the silence again.
"Cee Cee," she said. "I did it."
Later, when she thought about the conversation, Cee Cee remembered that the minute Bertie said those words, she knew exactly what Bertie had done and with whom, but she was hoping (God, are you listening?) she was wrong.
"Did what?" Cee Cee asked, and she stopped walking.
"Got laid. By John."
Cee Cee couldn't speak. It was a joke. Now Bertie would say, it's a joke, Gee. You didn't believe me, did you?
"Oh, boy, I didn't mean to blurt it out like that," she said instead. "To say I got laid-which is really an awful way to put it, because it wasn't like that. We made love. I mean, we really made love, and it was so neat, Cee Cee, not like it probably would be with someone my own age. He was so gentle and sweet. And you want to know the funny thing?"
"Yes," Cee Cee managed to say. Oh, God, yes, she wanted to know the funny thing. Let the funny thing be that this was a lie, and that everything she was picturing now that was making her feel weak wasn't true.
"The funny thing is that I don't feel guilty, and I don't feel dirty, and I'm not the least bit in love with him. You know the old myth about the man you give your virginity
to being the first man you fall in love with. Well, I'm not. And I think that's really great."
But I am! Cee Cee screamed inside. Outside, she just stood there, looking at the ocean, unable to look at Bertie. Beautiful Bertie. With John Perry.
"I'd never tell another soul, Gee," Bertie said hastily. "I mean, I'm not embarrassed or ashamed, because he's a wonderful person and everything, and I'm glad it could be with him my first time, but I had to tell you."
A chill came over Cee Cee, and she wished she'd brought a shawl.
"When was it?" she asked quietly.
"Last night," Bertie said. "After I dropped you off, I went to his house to go over a list of the stuff I needed to tell him before I left tomorrow, and one thing led to another, and . . . well ... I wanted him, Cee Cee. That's why I was so tired all day today. I didn't get back to Aunt Neetie's house until one-thirty."
One-thirty. A half-hour before Cee Cee arrived at John's. Maybe if she'd gotten there earlier. No.
"I knew you wouldn't be shocked," Bertie said, hugging her. "You're so sophisticated. You probably think I'm a baby, making such a big deal about all this."
Cee Cee forced a smile and shook her head to show that she didn't think Bertie was a baby, and the two walked back up the beach to the party.
That night was the first time since Cee Cee arrived in Beach Haven that she slept without waking in the middle of the night. She dreamt about Leona. In the dream, Cee Cee was lying in the bathtub and Leona came into the bathroom, put the seat down on the toilet and sat on the lid watching Cee Cee wash herself. As Cee Cee moved the soapy washcloth slowly over her body, Leona got angry and shouted, "How many times have I told you not to touch yourself? Don't touch yourself, and don't let any
boys touch you, either. Don't touch yourself. Cee Cee. Cee Cee. Cee Cee,"
"Cee Cee." It was Bertie's voice. "Cee Cee?"
Cee Cee turned over. She opened her eyes, then squinted from the glare of the early morning sun. Bertie stood beside the bed, dressed for travel in red linen slacks and a pink T-shirt. When she saw Cee Cee was awake, she sat on the bed next to her. Her eyes were filled with tears.
Why was she here? Hadn't they said their good-bys last night because Bertie and Neetie were leaving early this morning to avoid the traffic on the Pennsylvania Turnpike? Hadn't they exchanged promises to write more often, more newsy, and try to plan more visits together? And hugged? And promised unending loyalty? Well, Bertie had promised that. Cee Cee had nodded. Then why was Bertie sitting here with tears in her eyes?
"Gee," Bertie said softly. "John just got a phone call from your father. Leona's dead. It was a heart attack. I'm so sorry, Cee Cee." Bertie began to cry. Cee Cee didn't.
"I'll help you pack. Neetie and I will get you to the bus, and then she and I will go on. John had to go into Newark to get some stuff for the theater, so he's gone- but he said to tell you you can come back as soon as you feel like it. He says you can do Annie in Annie Get If our Gun at the end of the summer if you want to."
Cee Cee turned and put her feet on the floor. There was sand under them. There was always sand everywhere in this fucking place.
She was glad to be leaving. Glad to be going . . . home? What was at home if there wasn't Leona? Nathan, behind his newspaper? Now he'd have to talk to her. Be close to her. Maybe he'd want to take her bowling again like when she was a little girl. She remembered hearing him ask Leona if he could take Cee Cee bowling; when Leona laughed at the idea, he said he thought he should
take Cee Gee more places and be close to her. After that one time bowling, the closeness campaign ended, but Cee Cee was never sure why. Maybe she would ask Nathan about that today.
Bertie had already finished putting Cee Gee's things in the suitcase when Cee Cee came out of the bathroom. Bertie led her downstairs. Neetie sat in her car, smoking. She no longer had a handkerchief in her left hand. No one said a word all the way to the bus station. When they got there, Bertie said, "I'll go," to her aunt, as if Neetie were dying to walk Cee Cee into the bus station. Neetie turned off the motor and lit another cigarette.
The bus station was empty, but the eight A M bus stood outside with its doors open. Cee Cee would be the only passenger this morning. Bertie looked at the bus, then at Cee Cee.