Free Regiment of Women by Thomas Berger Page B

I’m not a pervert.”
    Harry’s voice was cynical. “That’s what we all say, isn’t it?”
    Dizzy and ill as he was, Cornell felt resentment.
    â€œSpeak for yourself.”
    Harry said quietly, but intensely: “I’m up for the Big One.”
    Cornell shifted his supporting elbows and squinted to clear his eyes of pain. Harry was a small man, with delicate features. His complexion was pallid in the jailhouse light. Of course no makeup would be permitted here.
    â€œBig one?” Cornell asked, wincing.
    â€œDo you know anything bigger?” said Harry. “I raped a woman.”
    Cornell fell onto his back.
    â€œBut,” Harry said, “I’m not going to give you any nonsense about being innocent. I did it all right, and I enjoyed every moment of it, and I would do it again.”
    Cornell listened to Harry’s ugly laugh.
    â€œYou little pipsqueak,” Harry said nastily. “Big radical you are, with your women’s gear! Listen, this is not the first time I did it, either. It’s the only time I was caught.”
    Cornell looked at the recessed light in the ceiling and weakly waved his hand.
    â€œPlease,” he said. “Don’t consider me as a competitor. I’m here as the result of a stupid mistake. I’m not a habitual criminal or a conspirator, radical, or any of those things. I’m a secretary for a publishing firm, and I got into this horrible mess by accident, and I feel like killing myself.”
    But Harry went smugly on. “It’s the knife for me. Well, I can take it. I’ll end up as a eunuch, but at least I know what it is to live like a man for a few years.”
    He was some sort of maniac. Cornell wanted to get him off the subject. He was frightened to be confined with such a person.
    â€œIf I got that shot you speak of,” he said, “I betrayed my best friend.”
    This distracted Harry. He jeered. “Another flaming revolutionary, I bet. Parading around with his cane and spats and brier pipe.”
    â€œMore or less,” said Cornell in relief. “He’s no more a menace to society than I am. He does that in his own home. He’s not hurting anybody.” He realized he was quoting poor Charlie. “I understand that what I did can’t be tolerated, of course. I was picked up on a public sidewalk.”
    â€œYou’re talking to Harry the Rapist,” Harry said cynically. “Don’t come on with that holier-than-thou stuff.” He lowered his voice but was even more brutal. “You’ve had your fantasies of fucking a girl.”
    Cornell recoiled. Talk all you wanted about how every man had a little perversion in his heart, it was appalling to meet a genuine practitioner.
    â€œThat is, of course,” Harry added, his voice growing sinister, “unless you’re a dirty little faggot.” He rose and took a step towards Cornell’s bunk.
    Cornell sat up and balled his fists.
    â€œDon’t try it.”
    Harry grinned sardonically. “Pretty aggressive for a so-called normal boy, aren’t you?”
    â€œI’ll defend myself,” said Cornell.
    Harry’s grin changed to something less nasty. “You look like Gina Antonelli,” he said, referring to the current boxing champion, whose name even Cornell recognized.
    Cornell shamefacedly lowered his hands, remembering he had actually struck Charlie earlier that evening—if it was still evening. He began to suspect that Harry was only baiting him.
    Harry now smiled and extended his small hand.
    â€œI had to check you out,” he said. “We guys have got to stick together.” He pumped Cornell’s forearm. “I’m not bisex. I go for girls only. I can’t control myself when I see a pair of trousers.”
    He sat down on the cot, seemingly losing his earlier bravado. “I know they call it a crime, a sickness, but I’ve been that way all my