The Wendy Story, Part 3

Wendy and Ramon...still talkin' to themselves...

The reason Wendy admired and was fascinated with men so much is that they did things. I mean, not always well, but so what? If it didn't work out, you moved on. Men did; women waited. She had emulated the men in her life well enough to have a decent place in Manhattan, but she had never completely turned the corner. She had occasionally wondered if this were an accident, but each time she had such doubts, she just ratcheted up the intensity of her competitiveness. She had to; it's how you stayed in the game, the game where money was the maguffin. But this was different; she knew she had won. What kind of self would she be now? The sheer amount of money meant she would no longer need to hustle, no longer need to count coup. Hustlers would come to her; she would wait. She couldn't turn a blind eye to all this; she couldn't turn the money down could she? No, no, unthinkable; the future would never forgive her.

Wendy stood up, and still nude, went to the patio window overlooking Hell's Kitchen. Leaning tiptoe, legs splayed, she pressed her forehead and palms flat against the large sheet of glass. She couldn't help but look out and down, the car horns and taxis a B-movie backdrop like bluebirds and daffodils would be to someone from the country... She took all the succor she could from this image; she now felt she would have to leave New York as well. Too many familiar snarls, too many psycho-land mines to step on, too many people like who she used to be... Like every other person running away from themselves she wanted to stay right here. Her tears came when she closed her eyes and just listened... She imagined each self she no longer needed falling to the street below, being taken away by New York, being left screaming in pain and crying for help in New York, unsure who would be left up here in the air to look out over New York each morning. Anyone at all? Anyone she could stand? And if you win, and are not you, did you win? She longed so much for kindness now, and realizing that no man ever understood that it's kindness when you need it, not when they feel like giving it to you, the tears came harder and she pushed the glass even more, hoping...


Should, like, I grease her up?, thought Ramon. Like that big fat Brando guy, in that really dumbass movie she made him watch twice? It's not really easy to be aggressive and sneaky all at once, but it's what he wanted to try...maybe this wouldn't be so cool after all....Ah, fuck it, let's do it. The bathroom door creaked as he opened it and went into the next room.

Her loneliness had hardened the air in the room, in her space, when the door creak clued her in... Who?.... She had totally forgotten about Ramon, when he stomped in not so much a man as an erection and a smirk. She really didn't need this now. Keeping her nude self facing the City she turned her head to tell him to go when....