Chapter 12

ALLISON WAS TO ACT AS OFFICIAL CHAUFFEUR next morning, which would leave Steve quite alone. He watched her arranging his supplies: a pitcher of ice water, cigarettes, matches, and magazines. Her thoughtfulness left him cold in view of what had transpired the night before, but he made no comment.

The earful of people noted a change in her, too. She nosed the wagon along the intricate pathways, chatting amiably as she drove. Her charges looked at one another in exasperation as her sunny disposition began to grate on their nerves. One would almost have thought that she was escorting a group of tired, happy children home from a picnic.

But the ugly secrets that had been laid bare the previous night were still uppermost in their minds, making it impossible for them to join in any light chitchat.

"Good God," Bev whispered to Pam, "doesn't she understand what's happened to her husband? She acts as though she hasn't a care in the world."

Bev voiced the opinion shared by them all, and Pam had to admit she didn't understand it, either. She had always figured. Allison to be a cool customer, but her light-hearted treatment of the whole gruesome affair was downright unbelievable. Even after the dirty trick that Steve had pulled, not one of them would have wished castration on him. She supposed nobody would ever know what had prompted Atlas' grisly crime. Somewhere along the line, Steve must have done him a terrible injustice, for him to have wrought such a terrible revenge.

As they got closer to home, their thoughts turned to different channels-the office, lawn chores, and, in Pam and Jerry's case, the children. Although nothing had been resolved, Pam knew that, whatever happened nothing could persuade her to seek the excitement of an illicit affair. Nothing but disaster could come out of it. If she and Jerry couldn't work out their problems, it would be far better to part in a civilized fashion.

When they rolled into Glencove, the air seemed to be fresher somehow. They looked at their surroundings in a new light and found them very inviting, indeed.

Jerry and Pam let themselves into the house, feeling as though they had been away for a very long time. Jimmy came on the run, before they even had time to put their suitcases down. Pam hugged him and looked over his shoulder for Sue.

Her mother's face told her that something was wrong, even before she spoke. "Where's Sue?" Pam asked, the fear already creeping over her.

"Oh, dear," the older woman moaned, wringing her hands. "I tried to call you, but they didn't have anything listed for that place."

"Mother, where is she?" Pam demanded, in the first throes of hysteria.

"She ... she's gone to the hospital, dear. Now, try and keep calm. She got worse, so I called Dr. Townly, and he sent an ambulance for her. Why are you back so early?" she queried, trying to take the sting out of her words. "No, never mind. You're back. That's what counts."

Jerry was already bringing the car around, and Pam was about to ask her mother to stay with Jim, when she waved her on. "Call me as soon as you hear anything," she called as Pam raced out the door.

The ride to the hospital was only fifteen miles, but it seemed to take longer than their journey home from the lodge. Jerry was forced to stop for a red light, and Pam, in a fever of impatience, pressed her foot down on a nonexistent gas pedal.

"Oh, please, Jerry, hurry!" she cried.

"If I go any faster the police will stop us, and there'll be a delay," he admonished. "It's only another mile or two."

At last they turned into the hospital parking lot, and Jerry took a quick glance around and groaned. "Damn it! There's not a space left that isn't reserved!" Grimly, he guided the car into a slot reserved for a doctor, hoping that the good doctor was off on vacation.

They entered through the door marked "Emergency," gave their names at the desk, and were sent to the waiting room. Jerry paced back and forth, cocking his head at every little sound of activity. People swished by on crepe soles, trays laden with food went rolling by, and the loudspeaker summoned this doctor and that. There was no sign of Dr. Townly.

Pam sat in a daze, now that she was actually here and the need for haste was over. There was nothing to do now but wait, and she was better in that department than Jerry.

At last, the elevator doors opened, and Dr. Townly stepped out. His face looked grave, but Pam told herself that it didn't mean anything. Every doctor wore that same expression-it was sort of a trademark.

Jerry rushed to meet him while Pam struggled to her feet. She had been sitting in the same position for so long that her foot had gone to sleep, and she stumbled and fell, grabbing hold of the doctor's stethoscope for support.

"Well, I've had people try to pin me down before, but they've never been quite so determined about it," he quipped, rubbing his neck ruefully. His touch of levity over, he got down to business. "I'm afraid there isn't much I can tell you right now. Sue has a kidney infection. She's running a very high fever, and we're trying to bring it down. As soon as the fever breaks, we can offer more hope."

"And ... if it doesn't?" Pam asked, wanting to know the truth.

"We'll worry about that when the time comes," he said, evasively. He didn't meet her eyes. Having sidestepped the issue as best he could, he left them and was soon swallowed up in the beehive of hospital routine.

Pam sank down on the leather couch, feeling hopeless and hating herself. Such a crisis was bad enough under normal circumstances, when no one was to blame, but to go off and leave your child when she was sick-that was unforgivable.

Jerry saw the desolate look in her eyes, and knew what she was thinking. He knew because he blamed himself, too. He smiled at her, trying to communicate a confidence he didn't feel, and put his arm around her. Wearily, she let her head drop onto his shoulder, noticing how broad it really way.

"Listen, Pam. If anything happens to Sue, I won't have you blaming yourself." She made motions like she was going to interrupt, but he shushed her. "No, really. You were a good mother to those kids until I gummed up the works. None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for me. I've been a piss-poor husband and father, and if Sue ... well, if the worst happens, it's my fault. Nobody else's."

There was no answer called for, but Pam snuggled in closer, taking some comfort in his reassurance. They both knew that the first crisis had passed. He had matured into a full-grown man, ready to accept responsibility and capable of giving solace and strength. The long hours of waiting had begun.

Bert and Maggie were involved in a crisis of sorts, too. It was a battle of wills that would set the pace during the years to come. Maggie was determined to set the record straight, and declare herself boss.

In the midst of preparing breakfast, she said, "You know, what we need around here is a maid. I'm sick and tired of ruining my hands in greasy dishwater."

"Are you kidding? We can't afford a maid on my salary!"

"Oh, I don't mean a regular maid," she said airily. "Just a girl to come in and work by the hour. After all, there are better things to do than cook and clean all day."

"Such as?"

"Oh, who knows? Maybe I'll improve my education or something."

This brought a snort of disbelief from Bert, and a mumbled "I'll bet."

Maggie caught the wry comment, but preferred to let it pass. "Well, what do you say? I can put an ad in tomorrow's paper."

"It seems to me that you have little enough to do around here. After all, you don't have kids tracking in dirt all over the place, or a baby to look after."

"Bert, you don't seem to understand. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

Her subtle bit of blackmail did not go unnoticed. Either he would give in, or she would blab it all over town that he was a queer. Fully aware that if he gave in to her on this point, it would set a precedent for all future arrangements, he gave in anyway. "Oh, all right, Maggie," he said wearily, "you can phone the ad in."

Not fully content with her victory, Maggie rubbed more salt into the wound. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about any hanky-panky going on behind my back, will I, lover?" She was the only person he'd ever known that could take a term of endearment and turn it into something that sounded obscene. "Why, what's the matter, Bert?" she asked, innocently. "You look a bit green around the gills. Aren't you going to eat your breakfast?"

Suddenly, the sight of her in her frilly apron was more than he could take, and he fled the table, feeling sick at his stomach.

Bob and Bev were happy just to be home. Their own living room had never looked more inviting, and they simply stood there, drinking in the sight.

Bob slid his hand up her skirt and stroked her nylon-clad rump. "Remind me to buy a pillow that has 'Home, sweet home' embroidered on it. That's our motto from now on, you know. No more parties, no more swapping. Do you think you can put up with your dull old husband?"

Bev wagged her fanny to show her approval. "I never said you were dull, Bob. It's just that..." Her voice trailed off, unable to put it into words.

"Yeah, I know. It seemed like a good idea at the time." His hand began to explore in earnest as he sought an opening beneath the elastic of her pants. The band stretched obligingly, and he poked a finger under, searching until he found the right point of contact. He fondled her cunningly, enjoying the weakness that spread through her body, turning her knees to water, and making her so much putty in his hands. His touch was attuned to her most erogenous zone, and she reacted this way every time.

"Bob," she whispered as she fumbled at his waist. He knew what she wanted; knew also that, at this moment, she wasn't coordinated enough to manage it herself. He obliged by freeing his penis, and she latched onto it with an eager grasp.

Again, that unspoken communication passed between them, and he slid her panties down and helped her step out of them. With her skirt hiked up around her waist, she pulled him to her and placed the tip of his cock against her swollen clitoris, which was quivering with anticipation. Together, they managed to accomplish a gentle rubbing action that drove her wild with desire. The excitement was so intense that she could hardly bear it. Moaning with desire, she gyrated against him until the friction all but set her off.

Bob, sensing this, backed away before it was too late. He would have steered her into the bedroom, but she wouldn't have it. Nothing must interfere with the pangs of hunger he had stirred to life.

Dropping to her knees, she encircled his legs with her arms and proceeded to repay the pleasure he had given her. When her lips closed around the head of his cock, her body stiffened with shock, as though an electric current was running through him. But her lips proved as deft as his hand, and soon his rod was swollen with desire.

In her frenzy, Bev would have gotten carried away, but he drew on every ounce of will power he possessed, and stopped her. "No more, darling. I'm almost ready to come now, believe me!"

From her position on the floor, it was plain to see that he spoke the truth. Looking at him in the broad daylight of their living room, Bev wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her whole life.

Without giving him time to lower his trousers, she pulled him down to her. "Ah," she sighed, drawing it out as he lowered himself and pressed his penis into her.

Bob was truly at his best, able to provide for her physically, in a way that money never could. Her oral lovemaking and the way she looked-so eager for him that she didn't even want to remove her skirt-filled him with the joy that made living worthwhile. For a moment, he felt sorry for Steve. The poor guy might as well be dead. Then he lost himself in Bev, and their mutual enjoyment.

Bev, a creature of unbridled passions, was trying to stave off the blinding orgasm that was threatening to end it all. It was so much better when they came together, and she always thought Bob got a special kick out of it.

She held back,, trying to keep it in reserve, but it wasn't easy. Then Bob began his relentless drive, and she was free to respond wholeheartedly. Their bodies pounded together, the white heat surging through them until they achieved release-sweet, wonderful release. They lay intertwined, spent and exhausted. Their pleasure ebbed away slowly as their genitals continued to throb, causing an occasional twitch from one or the other.

Bob got to his feet, relieving her of the burden of his weight. He looked down at the front of his pants and laughed. "I haven't had to contend with that since I was a kid. I'm glad I don't have to go home and explain to mama about those stains."

She smiled, stretching like a lazy, contented kitten. "Just make sure you don't have to explain any like them to me, Bob, and we'll get along fine. You're quite enough for any woman."

"Including you?" he asked, bending down to kiss the lips that had thrilled him so.

"Mm-hmm." She pushed the hair off his forehead, tenderly. "How about you? Am I woman enough for you?"

"What do you think?" he asked, grinning. Then he handed her her panties.

Allison was humming to herself as she drove along the highway. It was a beautiful day, and everything was right with the world. Revenge was sweet, and she felt reborn.

There were all kinds of things she could think up to torment Steve. Parties at which she would be the main participant; films of him in bygone days, when he was such a lady-killer; the stories that used to tantalize him so; her own flesh, which would be displayed at every opportunity. There were endless variations that she could dream up.

When she spotted the boy walking backward with his thumb up, seeking a ride, it seemed providential. His long sideburns, beefy arms emerging from a soiled T-shirt, and tight Levi's, branded him at once. He would do nicely.

"Hi, there. Want a ride?"

His cool gray eyes looked her over. She was half turned toward him, with her arm draped across the seat, and the invitation was plain. If she had greeted him with "Hi, there. Want to screw?" it would have amounted to the same thing in his book.

"Sure thing." He swung into the seat with all the confidence of a young man who is sure of his prowess.

Allison stepped on the gas and submitted to his inspection willingly. She could tell that he liked what he saw, and she decided to give him a little more to look it. Her hand pushed in the lighter on the dashboard, and she "accidentally" caught the hem of her dress as she brought it back.

He leaned over to light her cigarette for her, giving him an excuse to edge closer. The creamy white thigh did things to his young imagination, and he hoped he'd see more of her.

Allison sucked in her breath and exhaled with a gush of air. He tore his eyes away from her thigh long enough to witness the phenomenon.

"Going far?" she inquired, casually undoing the first two buttons on her dress.

"Well, that depends," he ventured, aching to put his hand inside and feel the texture of those exciting tits. Wow, were they for real?

"Hot, isn't it?" Allison fanned herself, using the bottom of her dress to do the job. Then she bunched the material tightly between her legs, so that the V or her crotch was clearly visible. She risked a glance at him to see if he'd noticed. He had.

"I'll tell you what! If you're not going any place special, why don't you come along with me, and I'll fix you a bite to eat?"

She bent forward at the waist a trifle; just to give him a preview of the unrestrained beauties inside. The warm breeze made the dress stick to her skin, and the nipples stabbed at the soft fabric enticingly.

The boy's face reddened with embarrassment as his normal reaction made itself evident, but his eyes were riveted there, waiting for her tits to win the battle. There was nothing he could do about it.

"Sure," he managed to say. "They would be nice." His choice of words showed his frame of mind plainly, and the blunder made him stammer. "I mean ... ah ... that would be nice!"

Amused, Allison unfastened the rest of the buttons. The boy drew in his breath, hardly daring to believe his good luck, and slipped a hand inside. He watched her face for any signs of protest, but she merely leaned into his cupped palm.

Sweating profusely, he moved next to her and kneaded her breasts continuously. "Oh, Jesus," he breathed, squirming in agitation. He could hardly contain himself. Stealing a look up and down the deserted highway, he pulled one out of her dress. He bent his head and buried his face in the lush softness. For a while, he was content to tongue her nipple and pull gently on it with his teeth.

But after a time he grew bolder. Panting and trembling, he pulled up her dress and gazed upon her feminine loveliness. His hand crept down, and she felt a warm, moist palm clamping over her crotch.

This was too much to contend with, if she wanted to concentrate on her driving, so she removed his eager fingers. "You wouldn't want us to go off the road, would you? Think of all we'd miss."

He seemed so crestfallen that she reached over and fondled his swollen penis. She did it absent-mindedly, but at first it had a soothing effect on him. As the miles passed, however, so did the soothing effect.

"How ... far ... is ... it?" he whispered brokenly. "We're almost there," she promised, giving his rod a final pat.

He restrained himself from touching her again, afraid that he'd never last if he did. He stretched, lifting his buttocks off the seat, and trying to make the adjustment that would ease the strain on his Levi's.

He was hardly aware of all the twists and turns of the road, so intent was he on envisioning the delights that awaited him. He followed her into the lodge, trying to act as though he was used to having a beautiful sexpot pick him up. He hoped she wasn't loony, or something. Naw. She just had hot pants, that was all. Maybe she was one of those nymphos he was always hearing about.

Allison preceded him, walking with an exaggerated sway that was calculated to hold his interest. She wondered if she should risk taking him upstairs, so that Steve could see what went on. But, after all, he was just an inexperienced boy, and she didn't want to frighten him off. Anyway, Steve's door was wide open, so he'd be sure to bear everything. Especially if she filled in the lulls with the proper vocal sounds.

She turned around, almost bumping into the boy, who was right behind her. "Would you like to undress me?" she invited.

"Oh, man, would I!" He believed in starting at the top and working his way down to the bottom. His fingers flew over the remaining buttons on her dress, and he peeled it down over her waist and hips.

The undressing process didn't take long, because the dress was all she had bothered to wear. He stood there agape, taking in each curve and swell of her flesh. Allison drew her hands along her curves, emphasizing each contour. "Well? Do you like what you see?" He swallowed visibly. "God, you're really groovy!" She smiled, pleased at his boyish admiration. Then, in a let's-get-down-to-business tone of voice, she said, "Now it's my turn. I want to see what you've been so bashful about showing."

Because she was the type of person who peeked at the ending of a book first, Allison began with his Levi's. He wore no belt. He didn't have to. They were skin-tight, two sizes too small.

"Do you always wear them this tight?" she asked, pulling and tugging at the stiff denim material. To make matters worse, he seemed to have a permanent erection.

"Why, you devil, you." He wasn't wearing any shorts, either. "Aren't you afraid you'll get it caught In the zipper?"

He grinned and stepped free of the pants. "Right now, I would be," he admitted.

Allison looked at him, standing so proud and handsome, and caught her breath. He was almost a match for her!

Mindful of Steve, who would be listening upstairs, she said, "My, you are well-hung, aren't you? You must have to fight the girls off with a stick!" She stroked his rod lovingly, then bent down and rested her cheek against it.

He shook at her touch, and she could tell that he wasn't used to such an intimate caress. Her long hair brushed the insides of his thighs teasingly, and his hands clenched in an agony of desire.

"Hasn't any girl ever made love to you this way before?"

He shook his head dumbly and waited for her to enlighten him.

"Here. Lie down. There, now. I can reach you, and you can reach me. Simple?" With that, she straddled his face and let her hair fall across his lap while her lips drove him wild with ecstasy. He'd always wondered what a blow job felt like, but he'd never been able to get up the nerve to ask a girl to do it.

Cautiously, he lifted his face and buried it in the soft, furry warmth that was astride his head. Her lips were sending searing licks of flame through him; yet he held back, afraid to show his emotion.

But the ecstasy her lips were inflicting made him forget his inhibitions, and he began to rise up to meet her. His own mouth worked furiously as he jabbed his tongue up and down with sudden urgency.

Just when he felt that he would burst wide open, Allison left him high and dry. His eyes flew open, and he looked at her in astonishment.

She smiled at his agonized expression, and patted the place his mouth had just vacated. "If you want me, come and get me!" she challenged.

He wasted no time in racing after her, wondering what kind of a game she was playing. His lust was so great that he took the stairs three at a time, catching up with her just outside Steve's open door. Angry with her for running away right at the Crucial moment, he slammed her to the floor and inserted his burning rod.

Allison laughed merrily, crazily. "That's right, lover. Push! Push with all your might! Oh, it feels good to have a real man for a change!"

He had no idea what she was raving about, but her exhortations spurred him on, and his youthful enthusiasm did the rest. He shot off, shuddered, and collapsed, as though he had just had the wind knocked out of him.

Long after he was done, Allison continued to babble and carry on quite as though his prick hadn't shriveled up inside of her. He cooperated as long as he could, but finally, even she could see that it was hopeless.

"Allison, let the boy alone. Can't you see he's done for?"

The voice, so unexpected, startled the boy, and he scrambled to his feet. He looked so panic-stricken that Allison rocked with laughter. "Don't worry. That's just my ball-less husband," she said.

Stunned, he looked from her to the opened door. "Lady, I don't know what kind of a deal you've got going here, but I don't want any part of it."

His departure was as speedy as his earlier ascent up the stairs. He never looked back.

Allison sauntered into Steve's bedroom and stood next to him, still reeking of sex. "Did you get a good look at him, dear?" she inquired in a polite, conversational tone. She might have been discussing the weather. "He was a fine figure of a boy, wasn't he? Everything you'll never be again. If you ever were, that is. And he's just one example. Why, I'll bet there are plenty of better specimens around, just waiting for me to discover them.

Steve went on smoking nonchalantly, as though he had no interest in the matter, one way or the other. Not to be done out of her revenge, she bent down to his get attention.

His arms clamped around her with the swiftness of an adder's strike. They held her there, across his stomach, as effectively as steel bands. She was power-fless to move a muscle. His eyes bored into hers as he deliberately threw his cigarette butt into a comer. "You may have succeeded in taking my balls away from me, but I'm still man enough to keep you here." his voice was cold and empty.

Allison watched helplessly as the curtains caught fire. They went up in flames like so much paper, and, in her panic, she realized that he must have poured lighter fluid over them before her return to the lodge!

"I hate to deprive you of your pleasure, my dear. I know how much you were looking forward to tormenting me with your playmates."

The fire was spreading rapidly, and already the room was beginning to fill with smoke. He continued to talk, although Allison was barely listening now. "But you should have known that I'd never take a back seat to anybody. It pains me to say this, but you always were a little on the dumb side, you know."

Allison struggled, making a last desperate attempt to escape his vise-like arms. But she might as well have been caught in the steel jaws of an animal trap. Her eyes rolled around wildly as she began lo choke from the fumes.

"So you see," Steve went on calmly," rather than submit to the hell you had planned for me, I decided to bow out now. It's a shame that I have to take you with me, but it will make such a fitting and proper epitaph, don't you think?"

The fire had caught the bedspread now, and was creeping toward them. Allison screamed, drowning out his last tribute to her beauty.

It was: "Beauty and the beast."

A different drama was being played out back at the hospital. Sue was struggling valiantly for her life and as Dr. Townly had put it, medical science could do nothing more for her. They would just have to wait it out.

Jerry's face was drawn and white with genuine concern for his daughter. For the first time in his life, he realized how much be loved her-and his son. He brought forth a crumpled pack of cigarettes and offered Pam one, glad to have something tangible to do. As he puffed half-heartedly on it, he noticed how haggard she looked. He felt the stubble on his own face, thinking that the strain, especially after their sleepless night, was taking its toll. He felt older, somehow.

Dr. Townly startled them out of their concentration. His approach was so quiet that he had to clear his throat in order to get their attention. "Ahem. Are you folks still here? You should be home, sleeping as comfortably as your daughter."

Pam stared at him, trying to make sense out of his words. Her dulled senses and lateness of the hour made comprehension difficult. "Do you mean that Sue's all right? She's going to live."

"Certainly, she's going to live," he replied, as though the question had never come up.

"When can we see her?" Jerry confronted him with the question that was uppermost in their minds.

Dr. Townly began to look stern, so Pam interjected her own plea. "Oh, please, doctor. Can't we see her now?"

He hesitated, but their joyous expressions made him overlook the rules. "I suppose you'll never rest until you do," he sighed. He punched the button that would summon the elevator, and gave them her room number. "She's asleep, so don't stay long."

They crept into the shadowed room, hand in hand. "Oh, Jerry, she looks so small and helpless."

Jerry's heart turned over, too. She looked positively angelic, with the sweep of dark eyelashes in sharp contrast with the whiteness of her face. Pam crossed over to the bed and laid her hand on Sue's brow. It felt cool enough now, but the perspiration caused by the fever had left it clammy.

Sue's eyes opened for a split second, and Pam swore later to Jerry that she had smiled at them both.

When they were again headed home, and Pam was snuggled up against him, she elaborated further. "Well, she did smile, Jerry! Almost like she was trying to tell us that everything is going to be all right now."

Jerry was of the opinion that this was sheer imagine on Pam's party, but he agreed with the conclusions she had drawn. He tightened his hold on her. "Go to sleep now, darling. I'll wake you when we get home. Whether you were seeing things or not doesn't make any difference. Everything will be okay now. With two fine kids like Sue and Jim, how can we miss?"

He waited in vain for the forthcoming reply. Pam had fallen fast sleep, with her head on his capable shoulder.