Yellow Kitchen

(1987)

(I was reading parts of Red Dragon to Cheyenne the other day. I shared the dialogue between Graham and his wife. It made us laugh so i am going to use parts of her dialogue here between Tom and I. Because Cheyenne and I would come up with stuff like this a long time ago and i thought i could bring some of it back. Your welcome, Cheyenne. Sorry to admit that the first 9 pieces of dialogue are the exact same as the book. I just thought it fit with Tom and myself so i put it in here. Thomas Harris wrote those pieces of dialogue. Not me. Sorry. I'm also trying a new format. Not a lot of descriptions. Hope you understand what's going on.)

Tom's head felt stuffed and stupid. he swam in the pool at his hotel until he was rubber--legged, and came out of the water thinking of two things at once--a Tanqueray martini and the taste of Kayla's mouth.

He made the martini himself in a plastic glass and telephoned Kayla.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Hey, baby! Where are you?"

"In this damned hotel in Atlanta."

"Doing some good?"

"None you'd notice. I'm lonesome."

"Me too."

"Horny."

"Me too."

"Tell me about yourself."

"Well, i had a run--in with Robin today. She wanted to return a dress with a huge big whiskey stain on the seat. I mean, obviously she had worn it to the Jaycee thing. I didn't give it to her with the stain on it."

"And what did you say?"

"I told her that i didn't give it to her like that."

"And what did she say?"

"She said she never had any trouble returning a dress before, which was one reason she asked me for a dress rather than Cheyenne. As if she thought i wouldn't care. She knows that Cheyenne would have bit her head off if she returned one of her dresses in that state."

"And then what did you say?"

"Oh. I said i was upset because Tom talks like a jackass on the phone."

"I see."

"I'm kidding, Tommy. Your sister brought Jared over today. He was covering some turtle eggs the dog dug up. Tell me what you're doing."

"Going over some lyrics. Eating junk food."

"Thinking a good bit, i expect."

"Yep."

"Can i help you?"

"I just don't have a lock on anything, Kay."

"Will you be in Atlanta for a while? I'm not bugging you about coming home, i just wonder."

"I don't know. I'll be here a few more days at the least. I miss you."

"I'm thinking about painting the kitchen. What color do you like? Tom? What color do you like? Are you there?"

"Yeah, uh, yellow. Let's paint it yellow."

"Yellow is a bad color for me."

"Blue, then."

"Blue is cold."

"Well goddammit, paint it baby--shit tan for all i care... No, look, i'll probably be home before long and we'll go to the paint store and get some chips and stuff, okay? And maybe some new handles and that."

"Let's do, let's get some handles. I don't why i'm talking about this stuff. Look, i love you and i miss you and you're doing the right thing. It's costing you too, i know that. I'm here and i'll be here whenever you come home, or i'll meet you anywhere, anytime. That's what."

"Dear Kayla. Dear Kayla. Go to bed now."

"All right."

"Good night."

Tom lay with his hands behind his head and conjured dinners with Kayla. Stone crab and Sancerre, the salt breeze mixed with the wine.

but it was his curse to pick at conversations, and he began to do it now. He had snapped at her after a harmless remark. Stupid.

Tom found Kayla's interest in him largely inexplicable.