Page 26 - The Geography of Women

12 Jack Fritscher

Mizz Lulahoop an spin aroun in red convertibles an take
on some bouncin man’s name as a alias. Maybe I was sup-
posed to be the “Sport O’Hara” Big Jim wanted.
None a that second-hand thinkin what they wanted
would do. I was determined to be what I wanted, an do
what I wanted.
Whatever it was.
Within reason acourse.
So I took aim at Mizz Lulabelle an tried to trick her
into talkin about S-E-X on the outside shot she might hint
she had certain feelins for, well, you know who. Or at least
shed some light on the subject.
“Mizz Lulabelle,” I said, “what’s it like to be married?”
“Why, child, I’m hardly a expert. Our two-week anni-
versary’s this comin Saturday.” She leaned forward an her
face brightened. “But it is, I can assure you, more glorious
than anythin you can imagine in the picture shows.”
“What’s the difference?” I fished. “What can you do
now you couldn’t do before the weddin? How do you feel
different n you felt before?”
“Why before the weddin certain...feelins...wouldn’ta
been proper.”
“What feelins?” I pushed her cuz she was always such a
liar. “Feelins in your heart,” I asked, “or feelins like maybe
in Mister Henry’s hands?” I laughed at my little dirty joke.
“You certainly are a questionable little gal,” she said.
“Questionable, I am,” I said.
“You know about the birds and the bees.”
“I know Rhett Butler carried Scarlett O’Hara up the
red staircase, but that’s all I know exactly.”
I liked Mizz Scarlett a lot, cuz, if she’da been real,
insteada up on the screen at the show, or if the book’d
been real, us havin O’Hara as the same last name, keepin

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