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Helene's Dream Closet by David Arthur Walters

Helene's Dream Closet by David Arthur Walters

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Liz was a call girl with a boa constrictor and two Dobermans at Resnick's W.M. Tweeds
Liz was a call girl with a boa constrictor and two Dobermans at Resnick's W.M. Tweeds

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Published by: David Arthur Walters on Jan 29, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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HELENE’S DREAM CLOSETBy David Arthur Walters“I’m afraid I’ve lost my best friend around here, the only reason I stick around Miami,” Paulmoaned into the phone to Liz, an old friend from the good old days.Liz was a call girl back then, saving up money to realize her dream of becoming a veterinarianand owner of an animal retreat. Paul met her in Tweeds, on West Seventy Second Street betweenBroadway and West End, a freakish watering hole whose owner went so far as to sue ScrewMagazine for libel. Paul was stoned on pot, acid, and white wine that night, so he thought he washallucinating when a boa constrictor emerged from her big brown leather purse. They becamequick friends, just friends although they liked to talk dirty sometimes. Paul enjoyed hanging outat her smallish studio around the corner, on West End. They enjoyed Star Trek together, and Paulloved to watch Liz feed mice to her snakes and train her two Dobermans. The canines weregentle but could kill on command and always looked like they wanted some red meat right away:The crowd parted like waves on Seventy Second Street when she walked to Central Park withthem baring their teeth and straining ahead on each side. She let them run and swim in the lake asusual one Sunday while she sat under a tree. A man proceeded to assault her, so she whistled inthe pre-established way. The dogs were upon the assailant just as her panties were being beentorn off. He lost his nose and left eye before she called them off. Liz was arrested and eventuallysued, but with the help of her madam, who was not yet as publicly famous as she would be, thecriminal charges were dropped and the civil case was thrown out of court. When she was not out
on a call, Paul and Liz would chat into the wee hours during that troubling period. Sheintroduced Paul to “inchers” – an inch of water and speed at the bottom of a glass – so the rapid-fire conversation was seldom interrupted. Sometimes Liz washed every square inch of her apartment while they rapped through the night. But one night was relatively quiet because Paulwas inspired to write a poem to her from one end of a new roll of toilet paper to the other, whileLiz washed the walls and chewed gum. In fine, Paul and Liz were about as tight as tight can bewithout sexual intercourse.“A girlfriend, obviously. What’s her name?”“Helene.”“Helene. Sounds like a Greek beauty.”“She’s that, but high-bred German. She has a severe expression that sets her beauty off, frightens people away.”“Uptight parents? Military? Rich? Beaten up?”“All the above.”“How old is she? How much money?”“Fifties. She’s fresh out of money until the lawyers get their hands on the Panama accounts, or she takes over the town, which she very well could do if she had the right plan. She’s a real power-monger, related, I think, to that Prussian fellow, Frederick the Great.”“Forget it, Paul, don’t draft the plan for anyone besides yourself, and do it for your literarycareer. You’re blooming late, and you need a comfortable cushion right away to do what you do best. I’ve been down there. Miami is a hard-ass, low-down, low-class place. Come up toKentucky, stay at my ranch. We’re getting Fresh Kid ready for the Derby. Barbara Standlowe isstaying with me. You’d love her: She’s thirty-two, sexy, affectionate, independently wealthy,and likes mature men. I know she’d like your mind and hairy chest – I’ll give her the word soyou can give each other a whirl.”“Every man should have a friend like you.”“Lots have had me, but not like you, Paul. You’re special, a real mind ----er. Listen to me: Don’twaste your life on South Beach. It’s just an expensive ghetto. I can set you up the way youshould be, if not with Barbara, with someone else. The grass is green and the fillies are mightyfine here. The shrooms on the cow paddies here are fantastic, by the way.”“I’m so glad your dream came true .”“Your dream can come true too. You’re already a great author. All you need is fame and fortunenow. Let me do something for you. What does this Helene do for you?”
“I’m not sure, really, but there is something about her.”“Good sex, huh?”“No. She’s an ice queen on a high horse, is slighted by the mere mention of the possibility.”“Oh, Paul, you are still so naïve!” Liz exclaimed and laughed. “She’s hard-to-get, and if you getsome you will never be able to repay the debt. Sex has been used against her – she’s been rippedoff and she is naturally bound to get even somehow, so don’t let it be you.”“I don’t know about that. I’m afraid I ruined it, anyway,” said Paul glumly. “I really goofed up,and showed her a chapter of the novel I’m writing. Its characters are drawn from real life.”“I’ll bet they are. A novel, you say? It’s about time you wrote a novel. Remember that disgustingPittsburg industrialist who offered to sponsor a novel if you wrote it nasty?”“Oh, yeah, you mean that wealthy drunk who wanted me to write a novel about the guy who sentsemen-filled condoms to a Chicago woman, who then said she was pregnant and took him for child support.”“Ha, ha, that’s the one, the one who kept saying he wanted to hear about the hotdogs and sperm,and not the dance articles you kept writing. Say, did you do what I said and bank some sperm?”“Nah, I forgot all about it. A famous painter, a sexy redheaded lesbian, wanted to have my babythat way after she read some of my work, but the unnatural way of doing it turned me off.”Well, you should have, your deposits would be valuable when your work gets published. Sowhat’s the title of this novel you’re writing?”“Helene.”“Good grief, how original; you could not even change the name. Now you’ve got me interested.Has the prima Donna of your novel been seduced?”“Not yet. But the thought is there, and it really upset the real Helene. She won’t speak to me.”“So why did you show her your novel if she is an easily slighted ice queen on a high horse? Didyou want to hurt her?”“I don’t think so, but maybe I did, maybe I didn’t like being insulted several times because Iwanted her.”“She’d be lucky to make out with you, according to what I heard on the West Side,” Liz statedemphatically.“That was years ago. I’m not hung like a Hungarian and I’m out of shape, got way out of  practice when I kicked the meat-market scene a dozen years ago. I gave up sex along with boozeand other drugs.”

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