Bill was sitting on his milk cases. He was all messed up. Actually he wasn’t messed up, he was just tripping his brains out, which meant that he was seeing and doing things on multiple levels, as he thought of it. Others watching him might certainly have thought differently of it.
He had asked Brooklyn to bring him a beer and when she came out into the hall with it, he said, “So where in Brooklyn you from?”
She said “Flatbush.”
He said, “My mother was from Flatbush. My father was from Canarsie. My Uncle Sam lived in Prospect Park.”
“So you know Brooklyn.” Not thinking much of it, Brooklyn sat down opposite Bill, on Bea’s lettuce cases which were now about even in height with the two milk cases on which Bill sat.
“Not really. I grew up in Queens. We just went to Brooklyn when we were visiting and pretty much that was when I was a young kid. I didn’t go there much as an a grownup kid or an adult.”
“Your loss.”
Brooklyn was conscious of Bill staring at her. At first she shifted where she sat a bit, but then she just looked at him and wondered, like, what-the-hell. Then she asked him what he was looking at.
Bill didn’t say anything. He leaned forward on the milk cases and reached out toward her, to her blouse on her bosom. Without hesitation, he fingered the material of the blouse on her breast.
Brooklyn didn’t know what to do, what to say. She looked deep in his eyes and said “You like what you’re feeling?”
“The spider,” Bill said. “It’s multi-colored and whispering to you.”
“Well, I should get back,” Brooklyn said. She was completely weirded-out, but she didn’t get up right away. In fact, she leaned in closer toward Bill so he could feel her more easily. “You always feel-up the new waitresses? Is it a thing?” she asked.
Only as she said this did Bill become conscious of the fact that in effect he was feeling her up. The spider was on her breast and he was, according to what was happening in his acid-brain, touching that spider. It was whispering to him. Pet me. Pet me.
So despite now being somewhat aware of where his hand was, he continued feeling her up, petting the spider. “It’s okay,” he whispered softly. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Mary found them like this. She came out to the hall on her way down the stairs to get some things from the store room. She took it in, looked at it for what it was.
“He’s tripping,” Mary said to Brooklyn.
“You mean on acid?” Brooklyn asked.
“That’s what I mean,” Mary said.
“They let him trip here?”
“Tommy don’t know. But if he did, he wouldn’t say anything. Boy got to put up the dinner.”
“The spider’s soft,” Bill said. “And I know it’s on your tits,” he said to Brooklyn. “Maybe you ought to spread your legs and let me see what’s up there.”
“Maybe I ought to get back out to the dining room.”
“Come on, let me see if his friend’s up there.” Bill laughed. He started to reach for her there with his other hand, but Mary stepped in the way.
“Come on,” Mary said to Bill. “You can see if the spider’s up my legs in the storeroom.”
She took Bill’s hand and pulled him so he stood up. Standing between him and Brooklyn, Bill had to stop feeling her up. Brooklyn did not hesitate and quickly stood. She stepped behind Mary and out into the kitchen on her way back to the dining room.
“What’s the matter with you, boy?” Mary asked.
