Chapter 10
When Janie awoke on the couch in the living room she did it with a lazy stretch of her arms over her head, a smile, and the feeling that she was still involved in a dream. Her wakefulness was short-lived. She closed her eyes and immediately fell into a new, deep slumber. She slept the sleep of a fully achieved, contented woman for the first time in her life. She slept it in this mood because of the love of Dave Chalmers, the love that was unseen, but deep enough for Janie to sense, and the physical love that he expressed upon and within her body.
An hour later, Janie awoke again. Again, she stretched lazily, smiled, then twisted on her side to wrap her arms around her love. Only emptiness greeted her outstretched arms. Her eyes widened. Her forehead puckered a frown. She looked concerned and anxious and very fearful. She sat up on the couch, looking around, seeing that it was still dark, that she was still nude, and that Dave was gone. She brought her feet to the floor. She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around her body, feeling her breasts, lazy and snuggling because of the love they had known, against her forearms. It was a good feeling, one that made her think of Dave and his kisses and his strength.
Janie stood up. She walked to the desk and switched on the light. And then a note caught her eyes. It was pinned high on the desk calendar. She smiled. She knew it was from Dave. She picked it up and happily read the words he had written: Darling:
Sleep tight, my love. Don't move. I'll be right back. With surprises and love and all kinds of plans.
I love you.
Dave.
Janie smiled and read the note twice more before gently placing it in the middle of her desk. She turned around, then turned again, this time doing it in a little dance step that expressed the greatest happiness. Then she went to the desk, leaned over it and read Dave's note again. And again. And still once more. And then she noticed the sealed envelope of her uncle. She picked it up. She considered opening it, then decided against it. She replaced it on the desk. Then she read Dave Chalmers' note still another time.
Skippingly, Janie returned to the couch, to that place where she had known love. She sat down. The cushions were warm and she wondered if it was that way because of her body alone or if there was still some of Dave's heat present there. She hoped so. She fervently hoped that there would always be some of David Chalmers in everything she did, every place she went, every thought she would ever have.
Janie stretched full length on the couch again.
Happy for her nudity, happy that she could lie there, unafraid, happy as a woman because she had at last been fulfilled as a woman. She moved her cheek to that place where Dave's head had last rested. She snuggled it close. She breathed deeply, hoping to catch some of the scent of her love. And she did, she was sure that she did, for there was a hefty, man-odor that she had never noticed before. She cuddled to it. She loved it. Dearly.
Janie had closed her eyes again and was on the threshold of new, happy sleep when the knock at the door rallied her to full wakefulness. The knock sounded again. Then again. Happily, Janie jumped from the couch. She looked down at her negligee where it rested on the floor. Then she decided against it, decided that she would go to David as he had so recently known her-nude and anxious and thankful for his love.
Naked, Janie ran out of the room, into the foyer, and to the door. The tap at the door sounded again just as she opened it. She threw open the door. And then she jumped back, horror-stricken, stunned beyond belief.
"Well, baby, you're all ready for me, I see," said Jack Prescott and Janie took a step backward.
Jack started to move inside the house at the same moment that Janie lunged for the door, attempting to close it. She pressed hard, throwing all of her weight against the door, but it was to no avail against the strength of Prescott.
"Stop that, you little bitch," he said.
"Jack. Jack-get out of here. Please," Janie begged.
"Not just yet," he said, grinning. "I've been watching this place from time to time since the other night. I figured since your lawyer boy friend just left a bit ago you'd be all rested up and ready for me."
Janie took another step backward, at the same time crossing her arms clumsily in front of her in an effort to hide her naked body.
Jack looked at her and laughed.
Janie looked more closely at him and saw that he had obviously been drinking. Also, that he must have had little sleep the last several nights for his eyes were bloodshot, he was unshaven, and his clothes were crumpled and soiled as if he had been sleeping in them.
"Jack-get out of here. Get out right now or I'll-I'll--. "
"You'll what?" he asked nastily. "Call your boy friend? The police? Scream? Just what in the hell can you do to stop me?"
Janie moved backwards again. Slowly, she moved, a step at a time as Jack moved toward her. Soon, her back struck the wall and she could go no further.
Jack stopped within inches of her crossed arms. He looked at her, grinned wickedly, then laughed.
Janie knew that it was useless to plead with Jack Prescott. She knew that something had happened to derange him, to make him lust-crazed with herself as the subject of that lust.
"You know what, Janie?" Jack said.
She did not answer.
"Do you know why I'm here, Janie," he said, reaching out and gripping her right wrist.
Still, Janie made no remark.
"Well, I'll tell you why I'm here," he said softly. "I'm here because things didn't go the way I wanted them to go when I was here last. I just can't stand it, Janie, when a girl doesn't get a kick out of me. And, baby, you didn't get any kick. Now you're going to."
"Get out," Janie finally said. "You-you--. ", "What?" he asked sharply.
"Disgust me," she said, spitting the words out.
He squeezed harder on her wrist and forced it downward and away from her naked breasts. Janie resisted strongly, but finally she stood before him, her hands at her side, her naked body straight and facing him.
"That's better," Jack said, his eyes roaming her body. "And now, to start again."
Janie tried to dodge his outstretched hands, but could not. He grabbed her hard, forced one hand behind her back, then thrust her body to him. She could feel his crazed strength, could smell his liquor breath. She turned her head far to the side, avoiding, as best she could, the attempt he made to kiss her.
"Bitch," he spit at her. "Goddamn bitch."
Jack quickly shifted his position. He brought both hands to her neck and dug his thumbs into the hollows of her collar bone. He exerted pressure. Janie sagged, then sank a bit lower in front of him. He pressured harder, and Janie could not help but fall on her knees before him.
Jack held her in this position for what seemed an eternity to Janie. But then he shifted his position, brought one hand away from her collar bone as he tightened the other. Janie couldn't understand why he was holding her with only one hand. But in a moment she knew. With his free hand, he fumbled at his clothing until he had achieved the exposure that he wanted. Then he brought the other hand back to her collar bone and pressured with both hands, harder than ever.
"Bitch-you're going my way," Prescott mumbled.
Janie shut her eyes tight. She wanted to black out that which she faced, black out everything of Jack Prescott. But soon she felt the tangle of fingers in her hair and the pressure from them that bent her forward to his desire.
"Now, bitch. Now, goddamn it, just like it used to be. Now," Prescott choked, saying the words in a kind of crazy chant that seemed to roll from his throat by some awful, evil means.
Janie resisted the pressure Jack forced upon her. She twisted her head far to the side and away from him, straining with all her might, ready, if necessary, to die before she would do his bidding. And then he jerked her forward mightily and she felt the result of the lurch he made of his body. And then there was darkness and sound and her name being called. It was a blur, a terrible blur that she could not shake. But then, at last, as if by magic, there was the sound of David Chalmers' voice calling to her and her own answering him in a half-sob, half-scream cry for help. And then there was a shattering sound and Dave's voice closer to her. It became confused then, confused and mixed with shouts and yells and hard knocking, sometimes ripping sounds. There was a clicking sound, too, as if teeth had been shattered. And there was a thud. And then a dragging sound.
Janie raised from where she had crumbled upon the floor.
First, she saw the lopsided effect of the broken door. Then she saw two figures by the door. One was David Chalmers, the other was that of the broken body of Jack Prescott. His face was bloody, his nose was shattered, only jagged edges showed where teeth had once been. And he was prone on the floor and Dave was dragging him to that broken door. And then Dave lifted him, righted him on his feet for a second, let him sway there a moment longer, then pushed him hard, sending him sprawling through the door, across the porch, and down the steps in an unconscious heap.
Then David turned to Janie. Then she started to sob. She sobbed and cried and sobbed some more. For awhile it seemed that she would never stop.
But she had the comfort of Dave's arms around her as she cried herself dry, as she finished with the last unhappiness of her life.
An hour later Dave and Janie sat in the living room. Their fingers were locked, they sat close together on the couch. Janie had finished with her crying, then had explained as best she could the reason Jack Prescott had returned to her house. Dave, somber for a few minutes, soon showed by his tone and manner that he understood-that he understood because that part of her life was finished.
"But why did you leave here in the first place?" Janie asked, cuddling closer to Dave. "I had to go home."
"At a time like that, you had to go home?"
"Sure I did."
"But why?" she asked.
"To pack," he said.
"Pack?"
"Yes. My bags."
She straightened and looked at him curiously. "You're going away?"
"Of course I am." He paused. Then he said, smiling brightly, "And so are you, if you'll have me. I had to go home and pack my bags so we could leave right away and wake up some sleepy justice of the peace."
Janie almost started to cry again. But she checked it. Dave helped her check the tears by a long, hard kiss. But when it ended, he glanced to the desk, then said, "Hey, hold everything, we forgot something."
"Now just what did we forget this time?" she laughed.
"Your uncle's report. The envelope. Don't you want to read it?"
"Not especially," she said. "I just want that crazy part of our lives over with."
"It can't be, darling," he said. "Not until you open the envelope."
Dave pushed up from the couch and walked over to the desk. He picked up the envelope and looked at it. Then he looked at Janie. Then he walked over to her and extended the envelope to her.
She took it slowly, carefully, as if it were evil. Then she opened it.
There was a thick bundle of papers which Janie quickly determined was the report that her uncle had requested that she compare to her own. And there was a note. She picked it up, then raised her eyes to Dave.
"Read it," he said.
"I don't know if I want to or not," she said. "You have to," he said.
Janie paused, then read the note through. And then she smiled brightly and jumped up and into Dave's arms. He looked at her curiously, but did not speak.
"Listen to this, darling," she said. Then she read the entire note: "My dear niece:
The enclosed report will be favorable to your own, I'm sure, but this is not really important. I had another reason for my wish for you to conduct such a sex survey. You see, my dear, Janie, I firmly believe that there is only one, true sexual responsiveness in the world, and that is the responsiveness that is inspired by true love alone. I trust that by now you have found this to be true. Believe me, it is worth anything you might have suffered in order to learn this great wisdom.
There's another thing I want to explain, Janie. I'm sure the absence of Dave Chalmer's name on the list of subjects for your investigation fairly shouted for attention. Well, I had a reason for leaving Dave off the list. My reason-I'm sure that you would find the opportunity to investigate his life more thoroughly than those of any of the other subjects. I'm sure, too, that you were inspired to do this all on your own. So, dear Janie-and Dave-have a good life. Love each other always.
With love, Your Uncle Amos." Slowly, Janie lowered the note. She looked at
Dave. There were tears in her eyes. She sniffed.
Then she said, "That dear, dear, crazy old coot."
"Not so crazy," Dave said. "Not so crazy at all."