Chapter 8
It was early and the sharp ring of the telephone jarred Janie from her sleep. She reached for the phone at the side of her bed, missed it and sent it clanging to the floor. Quickly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and retrieved the phone. She put the receiver to her ear.
"Hello, hello," Janie said sleepily.
"Hello yourself," a voice said. "What the hell's going on there-a party?"
"No, of course not," she said. "Who is this?"
"Your old beau, Jack Prescott."
Janie was shocked from her sleepiness. As if telephones had tv viewers or eyes, she pulled the end of her shortie nightie back down over her hips and thighs from her waist where it had become bunched.
"Well, aren't you going to say that you love me and that you're glad I called?" Jack said.
"No, I don't love you, and no, I'm not glad that you called. Not at this hour anyway."
"Well, listen, Janie, I just got in from a wild party and I'm at loose ends, so how about me coming over? It's been a long time since we've been together and you've been busy every time I've called, so how about it?"
After switching on the bed lamp, Janie glanced at the clock on the vanity. It was three o'clock, an incredible hour for anything, yet she sensed the opportunity to be over and done with the sex survey by interviewing Jack Prescott. Only that day she had tried to contact Tracey Steel and found that the young woman had left for the west coast earlier in the week. Janie was thus excused from this interview. Only Jack Prescott remained.
"Come on, Janie," Jack urged. "Be a sport."
"Well, it's awfully early, Jack," she said.
"Well, let's put it this way. I need you, baby. Really need you. I'm so drunk I'm liable to crack up driving to your place."
"Then don't drive," Janie said.
"I will-and I'll smash up, too, if you don't promise to see me at once."
"All right," she said. "But be careful, Jack. Please be careful."
He laughed cheerfully and said, "Careful is my middle name, sweetie."
"Well, if you do come over," Janie said, "I wam you that I have some very personal questions to ask you."
"Great," Jack said. "The more personal the better."
"Then I'll wait up for you," she said.
"And I'll be right over. Don't change-don't fuss-stay as you are and old lover boy Jack will be at your doorstep."
With that he hung up. So did Janie. She smiled, then she looked down at her bare legs as they rested beneath her and she considered the shortie nightie that she wore, wondered how Jack would really react were she to greet him in this skimpy attire.
Janie crawled out of bed. She switched on another light. Then she moved to her vanity and sat down on the chair before the mirror. She looked at herself and saw the sleep that was in her eyes. There was something else there, too, something that had not been there before she arrived in Port Harris. It was fear. Her experience with the stranger in the poorest section of town had left her shaken and with a desire for nothing but getting the survey over with as quickly as possible. For a few minutes, Janie thought of the ease of her life before she returned to Port Harris. It had been easy. There were no emotional involvements, no Jack Prescotts to interview, no strangers who assaulted her savagely. And, there had been no Dave Chalmers to snuggle to while a sailboat sliced through the night, either, she reminded herself.
Janie picked up a brush and began brushing vigorously at her hair. The harsh strokes seemed to make it more golden looking as it shined beneath the lights. As she moved the brush, Janie could not keep from noticing the movement of her breasts. They, too, seemed vigorous. Their nipples dotted spots in her nightie. They were hard and alert and as Janie observed them she wondered if some dream had awakened them from sleep.
Finished with her brushing, Janie stood up. She walked to her closet and moved coat hangers, trying to decide what to wear at this incredibly early hour. She decided upon a skirt and sweater and had taken them from the closet when the phone rang again. She dropped the clothes on the bed, wondering why it was that a telephone's ring always sounded louder and more ominous at night.
But there was nothing ominous in this caller, Janie thought happily when she heard David Chalmers' deep voice.
"Everything all right there?" Dave asked quickly.
"Why, yes, of course."
"Oh." He sounded relieved. "Say, I am sorry for calling at this hour, Janie, but I passed your place on the way home a few minutes ago and saw that your light was on. I just wondered if everything was all right with you."
"Everything's fine," she said. She paused, wondering whether or not to tell Dave the reason that she was up, that Jack Prescott was about to pay her a call. She decided against it.
"I was at a meeting in the city and just got back," Dave said, obviously explaining the reason for his own early morning activities.
"Quite a meeting, I'd say," Janie said kiddingly.
"It was," he answered. "The state bar association has gotten interested in a number of projects, most of them mine, so I had to stay late."
"That's wonderful for you, Dave," Janie said enthusiastically.
"Yeah, I guess it is," he said. "Well-hey, when are you going to be through with this stupid survey?"
"Soon. Maybe the next day or so," she said.
"Oh, that's great, Janie, just great," he said. "Then, all we do is compare reports, you submit yours to mine, we check it out and the estate is yours without any claims upon it."
"I can hardly believe that it's about to end."
"That's the way it is with hard work," he said. "You struggle with it so long that when it's gone you kind of miss it."
"I won't miss this work," Janie said emphatically.
"Bad as all that, eh?" he asked. , "Even worse."
"Well, when it's over maybe you'll agree to celebrate one night."
"I'd love it, Dave."
"So would I," he said. "By the way, what are your plans? I haven't heard you mention returning to the city lately."
"The reason you haven't heard it, is because I haven't talked about it," she laughed.
"Good reason. What about it though? Are you going back?"
"I haven't made up my mind yet, Dave." She paused, wishing that she could tell him now that she would be staying on in Port Harris. But she could not. In truth, her plans were still uncertain. She wanted to avoid making premature plans.
"Well, guess I'll let you go," Dave said. "What the dickens, this is a terrible hour to have called you."
"I'm glad you did."
"No kidding?"
"Honest," she said softly.
"And truly, you know, like the Girl Scout pledge."
"Honest and truly," she laughed. "Hey, you didn't say why you were up at this hour," Dave said suddenly. "I couldn't sleep."
"Not sick are you."
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Very sure, David."
"Well, I'll let you go then. Good-night."
"Good-night, Dave," she said.
There was a pause. For a moment Janie thought he was going to speak again, then, when he did not, she wanted to say something more herself, keep him on the line a little longer. But she did not. And neither did Dave. They both clicked the receivers back to their hooks.
Janie sighed and sat on the edge of the bed again. She thought how thoughtful it was that Dave had called. She drew her feet up to the edge of the bed and hugged her legs together with her arms. She cuddled her cheek against her knees. She thought of David Chalmers. And then she was jarred from her thoughts by a heavy banging on the door.
Janie leaped from the bed. She had had no idea that Jack Prescott would arrive so quickly. Or, had she dreamed longer than she thought, she wondered.
The banging on the door grew louder and Janie was certain that the noise would wake up the entire area. She hurried to the clothes she had placed on the bed, but then Jack's heavy pounding sounded again and Janie moaned and rushed to the closet. She grabbed a short negligee from one of the hangers, then hurried downstairs.
Jack was still banging on the door when she opened it and let him in.
"What did you do, go back to sleep?" he asked, grinning.
"And what did you do, decide to wake up all of Port Harris?" she asked, a bit angrily.
He stumbled into the foyer. He grinned wider and ran his eyes over her body, not stopping them until they had traveled the length of her and rested at the end at her legs which were bare considerably above the knees, only slightly covered by the short negligee.
"You really are drunk, aren't you, Jack?" she said.
"Quite, my dear, as they say in the old country. Quite, quite, quite."
"Come on," Janie laughed. "I'll make you some coffee."
"like hell you will," he roared. "You'll make me a drink or I'll tear the house down. What the devil, it took me all night to get this buzz on and I'm not about to give it up now."
"All right, a drink," Janie said, "but only one I've got some work to do with you."
He grinned evilly and looked at her breasts, then said, "You had better believe it, baby."
"Come on. Stop being a clown."
Janie led Jack into the living room. When he was settled in a big, leather chair, she moved to the small bar in the corner of the room and mixed him a highball. She hesitated, then decided on one for herself, too. She carried them both back to Jack.
"Thanks, baby," he said, taking the drink from her. Then he patted his lap and said, "Come on, sit down. We've got a lot of good times to review."
"We've got some reviewing to do, all right, " she said, "but it's not about old times."
"Oh."
"It's about a report I'm doing. And you're going to help me."
"I'd like to help you, baby." He stared at her breasts.
Janie looked at him a moment, then decided that a little distance was in order. She moved to a chair immediately across from his.
"Besides," Jack said, "I know all about your old report, don't forget about that. I know you old sexologists, all right, all right."
"I'm hardly that," Janie said.
"Oh, ho, don't try to fool me," Jack said.
He took a long swallow of his highball. Janie took a considerable amount of hers, too. Then she carefully looked at Jack. She decided that contrary to her first impression upon seeing him again, he had changed quite a lot. His brow was more furrowed with lines and he was thinner than she remembered him. And there was a nervous twitch to his hands that found him constantly tapping the fingers against the chair or moving them, sometimes patting at his thigh, doing other things, but keeping them in motion all the time.
"What are you looking at?" Jack asked quite suddenly.
"You," she said.
"And are you remembering how things were between us, Janie."
"No," she said simply.
"Ah, ah, that's not nice," he said, shaking his finger at her. "You're supposed to be remembering every time we ever spent together."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because the books all say that's the way it is when old lovers get together again."
"But we haven't gotten together again, Jack," Janie said. "Nor are we going to."
"Want to bet on it?" he asked.
"No, but I know that it's true," she said.
Jack took the last of his drink. Janie finished hers too. Then she thought about hurrying and asking the questions she wanted and getting Jack
Prescott away from her home. But something delayed her, cautioned her, told her to be careful, so she decided upon another approach.
"So, you're raising horses now, Jack," she said. "Tell me about it. Is it a good business?"
"It's terrific," he said slurringly.
"That's grand. It must be interesting."
"It is. Especially when we mate them."
"Oh."
"Don't 'oh' like that."
"Why not?" she laughed.
"Because I don't like it," he said, his voice suddenly going nasty and hard.
"Tell me about the horses," Janie said, seeking to distract him enough to give him time to sober up.
"Well, it's a very exciting thing to do," he said. "Mate them, that is. You know what, Janie."
"No, Jack. What?"
"The only reason I got in the business is so that I can see those goddamn horses do it."
"Jack!"
"What the hell, don't act shocked. This should be old stuff to sexologists like you, Janie."
"Well, it's not and I don't want to hear about it," she said crisply.
"What do you want to hear about, Janie?"
She suddenly felt very silly. Here she had rejected the discussion of horses and their mating process even as she waited to ask Jack intimate questions about his own sex life. It seemed ridiculous.
"Would you like to hear about how much I've missed you, Janie?" Jack said very seriously.
"No, I wouldn't," she said, "because I know it would be just a lie."
"You know what I miss, Janie?" Jack went on as if he hadn't heard her rejection. He leaned his head back in the chair and closed his eyes, then said, "I miss the way you used to do it with me, Janie. God how I miss that."
Janie flushed. She glanced at the floor and flushed some more as images of the scenes she had once played with Jack Prescott came flooding back to her.
"I really miss that, Janie."
She looked at him. His eyes were open now and staring hotly at her.
"Let's not talk about those times, Jack," Janie said. "I was pretty young then-so were you. But they're past. Let's let them stay that way."
"I don't intend that those times will only be a memory, Janie," he said. His voice had lowered and there seemed to be a tremble to it.
"Jack-please--. "
Quick as lightning, without a sign of drunkenness, Jack pushed up from his chair and stepped quickly to Janie. She looked up at him. What she saw in his eyes frightened her. It was made up of the same stuff that she had seen when she was seventeen years old and moved at his will upon his body.
"Come 'er, Janie," Jack said. "No."
"Get up, Janie, goddamn it, or I'll get you up."
"Jack, I didn't invite you over here for this. I know it, and you know it too."
"I don't know a damn thing except that I'm going to have you. And now. Right now!"
Janie remembered the stranger and how he had forcefully taken her. She knew that Jack was capable of the same thing, perhaps even worse things. And, despite the seriousness of the moment, she could not keep from thinking that sex and lust really passed over the lines of social and class distinction; economically, educationally, in every way.
"Stand up, Janie," Jack demanded, his voice was now very hard and determined.
Janie remained sitting tightly where she was. But not for long. Jack's hand shot out and gripped her by the hair, then he jerked her to her feet.
"Get up, get up, goddamn it, get up when, I tell you to," he hissed in her face.
"Jack-you're hurting me," she said, keeping her voice calm and her words even.
"You'll get hurt more," he said. He twisted her hair a little harder in his fingers. Her neck strained, bloating the cords blue. But she held her ground. She did not shrink from him or throw her body against him as he might desire.
"We're going to be like we once were, Janie," he said.
"No, we're not, Jack," she replied, staring straight into his eyes. "We are."
She started to speak, then stopped when Jack bent her head far backwards, causing her to arch deeply, so deeply that she would have fallen to the floor were it not for Jack's grip upon her hair.
Slowly, very carefully, as he held her bent with one hand, Jack brought his other hand into play upon her body. He grasped her negligee and nightie at the bodice, then with a mighty jerk, tore it from her body, laying it open as if it were the halves of a melon. Her body came into his view. He breathed harshly as he looked at her flesh, as he saw her large breasts heaving, their nipple heads nodding, her stomach taut and undulating, her navel winking-as he saw all of her as she lay arched and presented to him.
"You always complained," Jack said, breathing hard. "You complained so goddamn much because you didn't like my methods. Well, now I'm going to do as you always wanted-and I'm going to do it until you scream out for more and more and more."
Janie winced and closed her eyes. And then there was that feeling of falling through air as Jack released her and she fell on her back upon the floor.
Janie started to turn to her side and huddle her body together as protection against Jack's lust. It was impossible. He was upon her at once, tearing at the remainder of her clothing until she was nude and stretched on her back facing him.
"All right, Janie," he said, the words sputtering out through his exerted breathing. "All right, now we'll do it your way. Just the way the goddamn squares do it-almost the way the horses do it, too, goddamn it."
Janie locked her legs together when Jack lunged. But he was strong and motivated by a demon-lust. He fought himself within her legs, paused, made an adjustment of his clothing, then he lunged forward, pinning Janie to the floor by the weight of his body and holding her hands over her head with one strong hand. And then he was fighting, lashing, arching, withdrawing, fighting closer and closer and closer in a mad whirl of his body, pressing all of his weight against her, hurting her, hurting her everywhere he sought to deliver himself of his passion's congestion.
Janie looked into his eyes for a few moments, hating him, remembering how she once would have welcomed this taking of her, this 'normal' way of making love. But now she only hated him. And she hated herself a little, too, for she was still without response, without the ability to know a reaction to the wildest kind of love-making. First it had been the stranger who had proved it. Now Jack Prescott reproved it. And Janie felt nothing. Nothing at all. Just a desire for Jack to hurry and complete his singular satisfaction.
"Oh, Jane! Janie!! " he suddenly cried.
He moved faster, then faster still and soon so fast that his body seemed to be in a single motion of pumping to and from Janie.
She felt the grind of him, the harsh impact, only this and nothing more.
Jack started to blubber at the very end. Janie looked at him and thought how silly he was, how a man such as David Chalmers would never blubber, not over a woman or over anything.
When Jack Prescott rolled from Janie's body, freeing her at last, she looked at him and thought what a pitiful sight he was. He still blubbered, but now he had added some insane chant about horses and his own sexual inadequacies.
Janie straightened her clothes and resumed her seat. She waited patiently until Jack had cried himself out. Then she walked him to the door and shut it behind him. And then she turned and returned to her bedroom, glad that the survey was completed, sad for all that it had taken from her, and sadder still that she now had doubts about her own adequacy.
Janie was a long time falling asleep. When at last it did come, it was fitful and dream-filled.