The Lonely Hearts Hotel(43)

“Ha-ha-ha! That’s hysterical. Let’s go to the pharmacist. I only have five left, and I need them for myself.”

Poppy threw on a light blue sweater and a red pleated skirt. There was a crashing sound from downstairs, undeniably the sound of a door being smashed in. Poppy looked out the window. Police officers were already hauling out two girls from the parlor downstairs.

“It’s the police again! I’m not going to jail. Forget about it! Let one of the pretty girls go. Come on.”

They ran out of the room and into the hallway. They ran into the bathroom. There were already two girls pulling up a ladder behind them into the crawl space.

“Come on! Let us up!”

“Cachez-vous ailleurs. There’s no more room up here,” one of the girls called down.

“Damn you.”

The cops were coming up the stairs now. Poppy hurried Rose into a bedroom and pulled her into the closet. Poppy shut the door behind them, and Rose looked around to discover that they were in a tiny closet with striped green wallpaper. There was a piece of plywood at the back that Poppy pushed aside, revealing a large hole, which they promptly squeezed through. Rose put the plywood back and then turned to find that they were in another closet. This one had blue wallpaper with tiny berries on it.

They could hear the police open the door to the first closet and swish all the clothes along the clothes rail from one end to the other to make sure that nobody was in there. The coat hangers made the noise of knives being sharpened. When the police slammed shut the closet door, Rose and Poppy quietly opened the door of the closet they were in and stepped out into the room.

They were in a bedroom that looked geometrically identical to the one they had just left. Its decor was the opposite, however. It was dingy and the wallpaper on one wall was different from that on the other. There was a frame with a painting of an old woman with a long neck and no chin, like an ostrich. The linoleum didn’t have any flowers on it.

There was a child’s bed with a swan painted on the frame. They climbed out the window. They went down the fire escape and into the backyard.

“Well, what do we do now?”

“We go on about our business like nothing happened. Let’s get those condoms. One second, though.”

Poppy opened the door to a shed made of corrugated iron at the end of the yard. There was a small wire chicken coop with a hen sitting in it.

“I have my money hidden here. And I’ve also got my trusty getaway roller skates! There’s an extra pair for you. Try them on.”

Poppy came out holding a pair of roller skates in either hand. They strapped the roller skates to their shoes. They were still so young, after all. They were only twenty years old. They laughed, even though it was the so-called Depression. Poppy was much more adept at roller skating than Rose was. She had to grab Poppy’s arm several times. They rolled out of the alley and careered onto the street.

Poppy was swirling around the people. A lot of them were annoyed, as though Poppy were the world’s most irritating bee. Rose flung herself around a lamppost to catch herself from falling, but she was getting the knack of it quickly. In their roller skates they felt fearless. They felt like they were moving at the speed of light. By the time anybody could figure out the girls, they would already be gone.

They passed a fat woman in a green velvet jacket sitting on a chair, playing accordion, a hat in front of her. She was playing “The Accordion Waltz.” She was just playing the last bars of the tune. They began to dance with each other. Poppy executed an elaborate move. She put her arms akimbo and kicked her legs up in the air, doing a cancan of sorts. Rose tried to imitate her and fell on her ass. They laughed and laughed.

They tried to spin around while holding hands and they both fell forward, landing hard on their knees. Now Rose understood why Poppy had scratches and scabs on her legs. It wasn’t from making love but from horsing around on roller skates. Poppy breathed on Rose’s skinned knee. Her breath on the cut felt so cold. It was as though Poppy had suddenly blown all the clothes off her body.

Her body was made out of sugar. If she stood in the rain, she would dissolve.

Poppy told her to wait outside the tiny drugstore and ran in to get the condoms. She hopped up the step and glided right in. She had the paper bag tucked in her pocket as she exited the store.

“Do you want to go to the movies? If you ever want to see a movie, you should go to the Savoy Theater,” Poppy said. “They have the best pianist in the city there. He’s really good-looking—he gives me the chills. Although maybe you don’t like the chills?”

They took another route home for fun. They passed a long row of people in line for a soup kitchen. They passed in front of the brothel and the door was boarded up. Poppy didn’t want to go in. If the madam was still there, she would be infuriated with Poppy.

“I’m going to get in so much trouble for this. I should have just got arrested. I’ve done that so many times before. I’d be released in a couple of hours. Who cares?”

Poppy pulled her curls straight up with both hands out of frustration.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Rose asked.

“Are you crazy? Do you think that McMahon would let a girl like me come anywhere near his personal life? Then you don’t know the man you’re having sex with. Oh, never mind. It isn’t your problem.”

“Well, where do you want to go?”