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Pulp Fiction, 1955 · page 33 of 148

Argosy, September 1955 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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Argosy, September 1955 — page 33: Pulp Fiction, 1955

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wv? F + ~P* a's i fs | * a Pee a ' a ine ba Or” wage wm, ~ a Cn as _ vin, at — a. ee 4 a. eT ar ae a ee ee eee a Aa - J it = te oF Ai 5 oe A : he — Oe Be td t Wein ont he CP } 5 be i Ha yes SF. ise et 25 380 o~- +4 > » =~ . tf art . - 7 > = SUMMER IN SALANDAR 31 The launch began to make its curve to the landing-pier, the change of course uplifting the scarlet pennant very slightly. Above steps of baked white concrete a line of idle taxis stretched out, with a few ox-carts, in the shade of flowerless jacarandas. A smell of oil and hot bullock-dung and rotting seaweed seethed in the air and he said: “ I’m afraid you'll find anything down here in the port very hot.” As the launch came into the jetty he leapt out. On the steps we he held out his hand to her and she lifted the long yellow glove. **'The man will bring the bags up to the top,” he said. At the top of the jetty he realized with concern that she was hatless. Heat struck down on concrete and then back again as if pitilessly forced down through a tube, dangerously compressed under the high enclosure of hills. ‘‘T hope you're all right?”’ he said. ‘“‘I mean, the heat—the air is terribly clear and you don’t always realize—”’ “I don’t feel it,’’ she said. ‘“‘ I never feel it.’”” She touched her hair, running her fingers through it. The paler streak of it, up- lifted, exposed the mass of pure black hair below, and he realized how thick and strong and wiry it was. Its heavy sweep, shot with the curious blonde streak, aroused in him the same odd sensa- tion of uneasy intimacy he had experienced in the cabin, smelling ¥ the perfume of the handbag, by the unstripped bed. , For a moment longer she stood engrossed by the sight of him i staring at her hair, and he did not realize how absorbed and un- ; comfortable it had made him feel until she said, ‘“ Where do we go from here? Where can I get a taxi? ”’ “I was thinking you could come to the office and leave your things—”’ ** Td rather get a hotel,” she said. ‘“‘ What’s the name of yours? ” “ Malfalda,” he said. “It’s terribly small and they don’t really cater—”’ “It doesn’t matter if it’s reasonable and the beds are clean. Are the beds clean? ” ** Quite clean.”’ j She looked at him without any kind of disturbance, the clear, rather too large blue eyes fixing him with exacting softness, and said, “‘ I think any beds that are clean enough for you ought to be clean enough for me.”’ ** You can always try it temporarily,” he said. From the hot taxi she leaned her long body forward and loaked at the mounting hillside. Above it successive folds of rock, exposed in crags that seemed sun-blackened, submerged under incrustations of blue-green forests of pine and eucalyptus, fascinated the large blue eyes into a larger stare. “ What’s up there? ”’ she said. ‘‘ I mean the other side of the mountain? ” *“ Not much,” he said. ‘‘ More rock and forest and so on. Not many people. Over the other side there’s a power-station. It’s lonely. ‘There are places you can’t get to.”’ ree - comiclbooks.conn