Read Are You Listening, Rabbi Löw Page 35


  ‘You shits. You shits. All of you are fucking shits.’

  ‘Hey honey. I just knocked on the door of this house tonight to see if there was a robbery going on. Don’t include me in the moral judgement will you.’

  ‘You big millionaires in rich mansions exploiting the lower classes. I come from an equal society.’

  ‘Honey you were having fun downstairs for Christ’s sakes and you got gold sovereigns for it.’

  ‘Debauched aristocrats.’

  ‘Honey I may be debauched. But I’m no bloody aristocrat. I’m an American.’

  ‘Shits. Shits. That’s all you are.’

  ‘Honey join the sunny side of life for a second will you. This is his Lordship’s laugh clinic. And he’s just a happy eccentric.’

  Erica hanging her head convulsed in another paroxysm of sobbing. Her shoulders folded forward like wings. Her lungs heaving catching her breath. Schultz crossing the soft carpet to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. And had to stand sideways so the erection does not wave in her face.

  ‘Hey kid, jesus don’t cry. Everything’s going to be all right.’

  ‘Get your hands off me. I am a prostitute.’

  ‘Well, overlooking the contradiction in terms, no you’re not kid. You couldn’t be if it worries you. It’s all in the mind.’

  ‘I am. I have sold myself. To get money.’

  ‘So honey what could be better than selling it. It’s an all cash business with low overhead. With the plant and machinery already available. Plus it’s a proud tradition honey. The first form of paid entertainment.’

  ‘Don’t you fucking try to give me any romantics big boy.’

  ‘Hey come on. I’m not giving you romantics. I’m giving you economics. Women do worse things than this to get money.’

  ‘What’s worse.’

  ‘Honey they fucking well marry guys, that’s worse. Shit kid how old are you.’

  ‘None of your fucking business.’

  ‘Hey come on you don’t have to take up morals right now, I’ll put a few quid investment in your film up the Amazon. Hey come on, what is it a documentary. Maybe even get his tightwad Lordship to take a piece of the action if we make him production manager. I’ll go talk to him right now where the hunchbacks have him chained up down in the dungeon.’

  ‘Don’t joke. I’m a serious artist. I have already half the film in the can.’

  ‘Kid I’m a serious investor believe me. For the other half of the film to go in the can. This is what I call a special investment situation. Shit piranhas. Anacondas. Cannibals. Showing the real natural world in its glorious normal habitat. It’s a real big possibility for big family entertainment in all media.’

  ‘I need forty five thousand dollars. So don’t kid me.’

  ‘Honey that’s peanuts for something that could be for big family entertainment in all media. Unless honey it’s all close up action of you fucking the wild jungle Indians. Then we could be X rated with restricted viewing.’

  ‘I tell you please don’t joke me. I need the forty five more thousands of dollars.’

  ‘No problem honey. No joke. We could spread the risk. And advance you a little at a time. Fuck honey by radio telephone right from on the fucking banks of the Amazon I could set this up with Hollywood and do presale distribution deals. But let’s keep the atmosphere go ahead honey like in the word voom. Honey look what I got here for you. It’s up a mile long.’

  ‘I don’t want that while we’re talking business. I know you fucking guys. And all the big talk. Don’t shit me big boy. I’ve been in St Tropez with these wops, krauts and all kinds of fuckers, big yachts, big helicopters talking this big talk. All they wanted was to fuck me for novelty.’

  ‘Holy shit honey, forget I said anything. But I’ll fuck you for your charm. If you’ll just be charming for a second. And then all the novelty will come naturally.’

  ‘Hey what’s all about this show. This Margot dancer says she’s in. You got a show.’

  ‘Honey now all I got is an unrequited hard on which has just genuflected in abject disappointment. And the correct time on my watch says it’s three twenty a.m. and it’s time for me to go home.’

  Rabbi I stood there. She sat there. In this utterly gorgeous feminine room. The thought of novelty was really getting to me. Here I am in one of his Lordship’s houses where he’s conducting a fucking circus and totally under the control of his nanny. Correct that. Where he is totally out of control. And in the custody of his nanny. Who jesus even had the pleasant presence of mind in the mayhem to say to me ‘I’m sorry Mr Schultz if you’ve been inconvenienced in any way. Basil does you know indulge in his high spirits. Please do avail of our hospitality for the night. It is quite a wretched fog out. One can hardly see one’s lorgnette held in front of one’s face.’ Jesus what a sweet sweet old lady. That you could wish was your mother. And never again will I ever wonder what his Lordship does for fucking.

  ‘You lousy Americans.’

  ‘Hey baby I may be American but I’m also European acclimatized a little.’

  ‘When guys see me coming in America they run a mile. Now you walk away. What about the investment you put in my film.’

  ‘Look honey it’s after three a.m. and you want to talk business. Come about five tomorrow or shit I mean today, to my office at Sperm Productions.’

  ‘Fuck you, you joke some more.’

  ‘Honey Sperm was a typist’s error when we were forming the company. It was supposed to be a good healthy sounding word like sphinx or sparta. And so honey on that semantic note I shall leave you.’

  ‘Fuck off then. You shit.’

  ‘Boy. Goodbye. Miss Charm.’

  ‘Hey why do you go.’

  ‘What. Honey. Tell me. Are you giving me encouragement to stay.’

  ‘Where you live.’

  ‘Honey that’s an international secret everybody knows. But I’m not telling you. Suffice to say I just cut diagonally across the park and hope I don’t trip into the Serpentine. So long.’

  Rabbi I closed the door. On what could have been the biggest opportunity for a new experience that never yet happened to me in my life. Relationships should be in sickness and in health, in sorrow and despair but shit never in racial hostility against Americans. Correct that. Hostility against Jewish Americans. Gloom goes with me walking down these magnificent stone curving stairs from the third floor. In America it would be the fourth floor. Past the portraits of his Lordship’s ancestors. Listening to see if I could hear anything. And all was quiet on this Mayfair front. Rabbi I’m thinking of my whole life. My two lovely little twin daughters. That Priscilla, that fucking wife. Whose vituperousness is never ending. And keeps me away from two little creatures I adore and love. When she spat at me it burned a hole in my suit. Told me I was a penny pincher. When cheapness is a matter of honour and principle. The only time that so called helpmate and I ever got on was when she was sick in bed. And day and night I would nurse her. But when I was sick in bed she not only left me there to die but tried to hasten the exit starving me to death. And two insights. Louella is just like my wife. Rabbi, believe me, marriage is the grimmest fucking invention ever invented. Sigmund sometimes the worst wife is better than no wife, it at least, if you don’t commit bigamy, stops other women marrying you. Holy shit Rabbi I admit that’s one hell of a wonderful fucking advantage, but you don’t expect me to put myself at the fucking mercy of that bitch ever again and be torn to emotional ribbons. Christ a few stones’ throw away from here those guys at Speakers’ Corner are carrying their big signs, Prepare To Meet Your Maker. The End Is Nigh. Sigmund you should not behave as if death is just around the corner, just in case it is. Rabbi, that’s the kind of thing his Lordship would say. Locked up in his own dungeons in this traditional old fashioned kind of life he lives. Christ maybe I should just get the fuck out of here straight to the hustle of New York. Where the Broadway production is going to open. And where there’s always action. And where there’s always th
e smell of money. Even in those summers I walked down Seventh Avenue broke. Blast of heat up from the black asphalt. Waves of hot air from the engines of cars. Flashes of sunlight burning down reflected from the high buildings. Heated clouds of black exhaust hovering over the streets. Christ tonight has made me homesick. On the hot street corners vendors selling sunglasses in the sun, umbrellas in the rain. Scarves and ear muffs in winter to shield the ears from frost bite and noise pain. Here they should be selling fog horns to the pedestrians and they ain’t.

  Schultz pressing a button for the light in the entrance hall. Opening all the latches on this front door. Jesus I can’t wake Jorricks this time of night to come get me in the car. But my god the fog is even denser. I can’t even see the railings on the porch. Cold dreary. Christ dare I go out there and down the steps. Out into venereal safety. The door’s open. The fog blowing in. Christ. Turn around Schultz. Take risks. Go voom. And hey Schultz what the fuck are you doing walking out of here like this in the first place. Jesus I need my head examined. Back up there on the bed upstairs is the biggest, if I can pardon my own pun, tall sensation of all time who if I can’t fuck her could be a featured lead in the chorus line. Jesus let me get back up these stairs two at a time. Shit where’s the door to the bedroom. I’m lost. Jesus that must be it. Christ no. I could be arrested by the hunchbacks who one of the whores said were out of one of his Lordship’s forests on one of his estates. I’m on the wrong floor. One more up. And soon I’ll be swinging from one of his Lordship’s trees.

  Schultz in the dark on the next landing. A shadow at his shoulder. Who the fuck is this. O jesus. It’s a god damn bust of a statue on a pedestal which nearly gave me a heart attack. Maybe it’s Kierkegaard. Who said something like mankind was haunted by an unconscious despair. Boy as I open this door I’m haunted by a conscious tingling in the gonads. Tiptoe quietly in. She’s still stretched out. Face down on bed. Head sunk into the pillow crying. The candles still burning. What a scene this is for my autobiography one day. Never are my clothes in history ever coming off so fast. Holy shit, I didn’t notice that before. Right there, big as life size on the wall. His Lordship’s sister, Lady Lullabyebaby. Her picture. Her both eyes staring right fucking well at me as I stand here naked. And she was the hardest toughest woman of all time. I don’t know if it was courage or just her ornery meanness but her honesty was like a scimitar lopping off your legs cutting you always down to size. There she is cream and peaches complexion. Hunts foxes. Owns half of Knightsbridge. And was another woman I briefly loved. O god and I’m still getting involved with people’s sisters. And this big creature must have a brother or two who I’m going to avoid knowing. Rules I made long ago it seems but christ it was nearly only yesterday when I said rule six. Don’t screw unstable women. Horror and sex don’t mix. Now I’m mixing together insanity, prostitution and the risk of my prick being shortened by piranhas up the Amazon. Just creep over. Jesus she could think I’m a burglar after her gold sovereigns. Just lie down beside her so we can both be the same height. That’s it kid, move over. While I rack my brain to make some kind of introductory conversation.

  ‘Honey I’m back.’

  ‘I know you were coming back.’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What the hell I thought a cold night let’s keep warm together.’

  ‘I know what you thought. You thought you want to try the novelty.’

  ‘Hey honey, you’re an attractive kid. You know you don’t dance half bad.’

  ‘I ski better than I dance.’

  ‘Well what do you say we give you a whirl. In the chorus. Dancing not skiing.’

  ‘I could make more money in prostitution. I let you give it to me up the arse.’

  ‘What.’

  ‘The backside. For three hundred quid.’

  ‘Jesus for three hundred quid honey I could get my prick cast in bronze and shove it up the front side of an angel in heaven. But let me take an option.’

  ‘But first you whip me.’

  ‘Honey, jesus, I’m no sadist.’

  ‘I am no masochist but do you want to try whipping.’

  ‘Honey, there are no whips in this room. And this time of night I wouldn’t know where the fuck to start looking for lubricants either. Hey by the way how much does whipping cost.’

  ‘Get your belt. I let you whip me free of charge. I have these pairs of stockings you use to tie my arms and legs to the four posts of the bed.’ Sigmund, remember you are a good Jewish boy. Don’t whip ladies. Rabbi I have no intention. I had enough trouble with a zipper on my trousers and I’m not going to start pulling a fucking belt off me and end up choking myself or something. Plus the last thing I want to do is go fooling around looking everywhere all over this place for some kind of grease to go up somebody’s corn hole even when I’m invited.

  ‘Honey excuse me I’m getting out and am going to get dressed again.’

  ‘Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me.’

  ‘Honey, look let’s just have some normal love.’

  ‘Five lashes give me. Then I give something normal.’

  ‘Why honey, do you want lashes.’

  ‘Because I’m a bad girl.’

  ‘Jesus honey that makes sense. Where’s the stockings and just let me get my belt. My usual charge is fifty guineas but for you kid since you’re in the trade, maybe I’ll throw in a little discount.’

  ‘I am not in the trade. I stop. I give back the sovereigns. I am me. Erica.’

  ‘Jesus honey now you’re getting a bad case of the romantics. Keep the fucking sovereigns. And I just hope I can give you pain.’

  Anyway Rabbi, my family have never been invited to join the Rhode Island social register. But on top of everything I knew it wouldn’t be polite if I didn’t at least make some kind of stab at administering her five lashes of my belt in case she felt more rejected and humiliated than she already was. She rolled over on her face stretched out. A mile long. I tied the four ends of her to the bed. And there like two little soft hills, her ass. I wound up. Fantasdc. Wham. Resounding right across the twin summits. Wow did it transform her. Like a miracle. She was whimpering and then purring. For good measure I gave her seven. You gave her eight Sigmund but who’s counting. I am. I just gave her nine. And for each of the last six she said harder, harder. And she’s looking back up at me with the most beautiful gorgeous soulful eyes. I untie her. Then she reaches up with her hand and takes mine. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I sneezed. Then tears came into my eyes. This poor fucking big beautiful creature that I was beating. She was an impresario just like me. And after a few welts across the rear end she was like becoming the softest most pliable plaintive female human being. Like you dream women should be. Driven to prostitution to save her art. Even offering to be cornholed to get the extra investment. And the first fucking woman with whom I have something deep in common which is as profoundly life threatening as show business. Taken by her hand. I lie down on her. For the closest encounter of a venereal kind. Feeling not a particle of pain in my balls. Wiggling around on top of the pink welts laid across her white mounds. Still softly moaning. Putting her arms and legs around me. It was like being wrapped up for Christmas and Rosh Hashanah combined. No further trouble trying to get her to see the wisdom of using an already more than adequately lubricated canal. Learning for the first time in my life what a woman needed. Rabbi tomorrow I swear I got to find where to buy a cat o’ nine tails. Sigmund, always when you know exactly what you want you never find a place selling it. Plus not everything with women is solved with a few lashes. Rabbi believe me, Priscilla is the perfect subject. Only in my enthusiasm I’d dislocate my shoulder like I did playing lacrosse. What you learn in the marvellous maturity of Europe they never teach you in American high school. And now this disciplining women stuff is only a recent most sudden insight in my life. Wow. Even as I took two steps towards her outstretched hand, my prick shuddered with an extra rigidity of excitement. Hey, your Lordsh
ip I really like your happy as a king laugh clinic. Even the couple of times Erica smiled with her beautiful teeth down in the ballroom was worth stumbling through the mud, bushes and fog. The sultry way her lips parted as she looked back down at me far below climbing behind her up the stairs. Fucking hell forty five thousand bucks I could siphon off from my percentage of the gross. Give the poor kid a chance to get out of prostitution. And then get into something worse. Like the abyss strewn terrain and blood thirsty cut throat treachery of show biz. Her tongue sticking in my mouth. We’re eating each other’s germs. An entree this good who cares if I get a disease for dessert. Boy there sure are semantically sane and insane ways to use this language. Shit she asks about Kierkegaard. Who said you have to be God to know what God knows. Rabbi you lived twice as long as Kierkegaard. And knew what he knew three hundred and thirty years before he did. And hey honey do you know about Korzybski. Guess what he said. Mankind is by nature cooperative. And shit tonight the two of us couldn’t be a better example. What could be more cooperative than using my belt as a fucking whip landing nine nice magenta stripes across your ass. Solving my problem with women for all time. The ruinous thing for my future is I’ve never had a fuck like this. My prick just dipping gently in, gently out. An orgasm starting at toe tip. Going up my legs and hanging around my knees before transcending through both my thighs and exploding my brain in a whirlpool of ecstasy with celestial choirs howling to high heaven. Correct that. It was me howling to high heaven.