Chapter 18
Snow had fallen most of Friday, but it was clear and the stars were out that night along the highway leading from Marwell to the Crozier farm. Eleanor had readily accepted Dave Vandenburg's invitation to accompany his cronies Bob Talbot and Pat Guffy in Pat's big Buick sedan. She wanted to see the fun, to gloat over Kathy's cries for help and the girl's shame when the three hulking collegians stripped her. She wouldn't be hurt at all, and they'd just knock Mark around a little. That would be her wedding present to them both. And then she'd tell Dave she had to go back to Chicago for Christmas to let her folks know the good news-but she wouldn't ever come back. She wanted no more of this small-town college and the unhappy memories it had brought her. She wanted to be back in circulation with sophisticated, knowing people. Men like Henri de Rochembeau-or the Mark Torrance who had made love to her in this very farmhouse.:
The Buick was parked to the other side of the viaduct, just off the narrow road. And she and Dave and his two friends had got to the farmhouse by six. Dave had had the foresight to bring a hamper packed with sandwiches and bottles of beer, and a couple of flashlights so they could see their way around. He had inspected the bedroom, turned the flashlight on the big brass-frame bed, and sniggered lewdly, glancing back at Eleanor: "Hey, now, that'd sure be big enough for the two of us, wouldn't it, Elly baby?" And Bob and Pat had been right outside in the hall and heard it, and she'd turned crimson with angry embarrassment and hissed, "Shut your mouth, you big oaf! Do you have to blab everything you're thinking?"
"Oh, come off it, sweet stuff," he chuckled, slipping his arm round her waist. "The guys know we're gonna get hitched. Matter of fact, Pat's gonna be my best man, and Bob's gonna throw a wingding over at the frat house after we tie the knot."
"I-I meant to tell you, darling, I want my parents to see us get married."
"Sure, sure, Elly. Why not? Show 'em what a great guy you picked. That's the idea!" He slapped her jovially on the rump, and she ground her teeth as she heard his two friends laugh knowingly.
"What I mean is, honey, I'll go up to Chicago, do some quick shopping for a trousseau and bring them back with me. Why don't we make it-say January 2nd?"
"I don't like the idea of your goin' away over the holidays and leavin' me, Elly honey."
She put an arm round his neck and flicked her tongue against his lips. "Oh, be nice, darling. Then you'll see how nice I can be," her voice was wheedling and sensual, with the promise of unspeakable delights. Dave Vandenburg put his hands on her buttocks and pulled her to him, crushing her mouth with his. "Okay, okay, whatever you want-so long as I get you where I want you, gorgeous," he growled affably. "Now let's get at that chow. This cold weather makes me hungry as a bear."
They ate their sandwiches and drank their beer in the kitchen, with the kerosene lamp turned high. Eleanor shivered as its flickering glow cast strange shadows on their faces, distorting them, making them seem more like vicious thugs than college students. Pat and Bob eyed her throughout the improvised meal, and both the youths insinuatingly commented on what a lucky guy their pal Dave was to find a smart looker like her. She could have dispensed with that. She didn't care for them at all, and in their company Dave Vandenburg seemed to get coarser and coarser in both speech and manners. He actually slipped his arm round her and tried to run his hand down under her sweater and into her bra, with them both avidly looking on.
The minutes ticked by till the alarm clock on the window sill by the sink, which Dave had wound up, showed ten minutes of eight. "Maybe they won't show," Bob grumbled, lighting a cigarette.
"I'm sure they will. I heard them say they'd be here tonight to look the place over," Eleanor insisted, her nerves frayed by the tension as well as by being isolated in the company of this uncouth trio. If only Mark had been more reasonable, more understanding. It could as well have been she here tonight alone with him, entwined on that big comfortable bed. But he'd been taken in by that whiny, sticky-sweet little sneak Kathy. So what he was going to get served him right. And some day he'd know what he had really missed.
"Hey, I hear a car comin!" Bob stood up, his scowling face tautened with wariness.
"Yeah you're right. Okay, let's get those Halloween mask on. Good thing we kept 'em after that 'nishiation we had last month," Dave exclaimed. Going to the hamper, he pulled out three black felt face masks, with heavy elastic bands, tossed two to his friends and donned the third one himself. "Now easy does it. Elly, you stay here in the kitchen, and don't let a peep outa you, see?"
"I won't! Oh, do it to them good," she hissed malevolently, her blood throbbing in her veins, her eyes shining with sadistic excitement.
Dave crossed back to the table, blew out the kerosene lamp, then bent down and cupped Eleanor's swelling breasts through her sweater, his big heavy fingers cruelly digging into their resilience as his mouth greedily fused to hers. "Wish me luck, baby. Now you'll see how a real man protects your honor, huh? Just listen!"
And he and Bob and Pat hurried to the living room.
Eleanor crept to the kitchen window, which looked out on the cornfield. The quarter moon cast enough light for her to see two dark figures in the distance, slowly approaching the house. Yes, it was Mark and Kathy!
She dug her nails into her sweating palms, crouching on her knees on the floor, peering out into the snow-covered field, her mind racing with the vindictive thoughts of her imminent revenge. Kathy was holding onto Mark's hand, staring at him with those cow-like eyes of hers through the harlequin glasses. She'd probably even wear them to bed her wedding night to look helpless. It would be like being married to an innocent child, not the wild, exotic ecstasy Mark had known with her.
In the still night, their voices carried. She could hear Kathy say, "We could be all by ourselves, away from the whole world here, Mark darling." And his answer: "Yes, and yet whenever we wanted to go back to civilization, it'd be only a little time away. I can write here, darling, and so can you. There'll be a creative link between us always."
Sure, Eleanor thought to herself, you two can sit up together in bed reading aloud to each other. Have fun!
And then she held her breath, for they were at the front door. And then there was the sound of a scuffle, and Kathy's shrill scream: "Oh, Mark, look out-stop-oh, let me go-"
Give it to them, give it to them good, rape her, kill him, her mind raced in the ferocity of this vicarious participation in her own so carefully planned vengeance.
She heard Dave yell, "Oww, you're breaking my arm!" And then the sound of a thud, then more scuffling, and then Kathy's scream again. Then the sharp smack of a fist and another thud, and then, to her horror, Mark's voice, panting but stern: "All right, you young hoodlums! Take off those masks! No? I can dish out a little more, if you'd like. I take judo lessons every now and then."
And Dave's voice, moaning, "Oh, Gawd, you like, to broke my arm. We didn't mean to do nuttin', Professor Torrance!"
"Oh, it's you, Vandenburg. And two of your fraternity brothers, I dare say. I thought so. Now whose little scheme was it to lie in wait for us here tonight, hm? Or would you rather talk to the sheriff? I could have you all jailed for assault and attempted rape. Get up there, you sniveling idiot!"
"D-don't hit me again, lay off," it was Bob Talbot whining.
"I ought to smash your jaw for trying to tear Kathy's clothes, you hoodlum. Now then, Vandenburg, who dreamed up this little reception? I'll break your arm if you don't tell me, so help me!"
Cowering back against the window, Eleanor was ghastly pale; she'd never dreamed Mark could sound so angry.
"It-it was Elly Landers, Prof," Dave blurted. "Honest. We weren't gonna do anything 'cept give you both a little scare. She said you had it comin'-said that girl of yours got her kicked outa the sorority and stole you away from her-honest, it's the truth."
You cowardly bastard you, Eleanor's lips worked silently.
"I don't have to tell you I could get you all kicked out of school, Vandenburg."
"Yes sir," Dave was stammering. "Jeez, my arm, Prof, it hurts like hell, you damn near twisted it out of the socket. Please, we-I swear we didn't mean nuttin' like-like what you said about her-"
"All right. Where is Miss Landers?"
"In-in the kitchen."
Eleanor's lips curled back, baring her teeth, like a trapped animal. Slowly she straightened, then began to back up towards the kitchen door, just as Mark Torrance strode in. He looked at her, then shook his head. "I think, Miss Landers, you had better plan on resigning from Marwell. Probably the best thing would be to go home for the holidays and just not return. You understand?"
She nodded, speechless, numb with shock. Tears had begun to well up in her dilated green eyes.
"You're amoral, vicious, undisciplined. If I wanted to be vengeful the way you are-and it's well within my rights, I can assure you-I'd prefer charges against you as well as your three amenable friends. You understand that, don't you?"
Slowly she nodded, lowering her eyes, and color surged across her pale cheeks.
"But first, I'm going to let Kathy punish you, the way a child is punished. And in front of your friends. Vandenburg, you and your football heroes, get in here pronto!" He turned back and shouted.
In a few moments the three youths were assembled, looking sullen and sheepish by turns. Mark Torrance pulled a chair out from the kitchen table, gestured to Kathy to sit down. As soon as she had complied, he walked over to Eleanor and, grabbing her by the wrist, drew her over to Kathy and forced her down over Kathy's lap. "Now spank her, Kathy."
"Oh, no, no, Mark, for God's sake, no, please!" Eleanor burst into hysterical sobs.
"You, Vandenburg, get on your knees and use your good arm to hold her down for it," Mark commanded as Eleanor tried to rise.
"Damn right I will," Dave swore, his face ugly. With his left palm, as he knelt beside the chair, he pinned Eleanor's shoulders down.
"Please, Mark, I don't want to. She's been punished enough," Kathy said softly, pleadingly looking up at the handsome English literature professor.
"You're much too tenderhearted and forgiving by nature, darling." Mark shrugged. "All right. You won't have to do it. But I will."
So saying, bending over the kicking and struggling redhead, he proceeded to lay about fifteen hard whacks with the flat of his right hand, and Eleanor wailed like a banshee. It hurt worse than the DGT paddles, both physically and in her pride.
"There," he said breathlessly, straightening." Now then, Vandenburg, take her and your friends and yourself out of here. I'm going to watch your scholastic and behavior records very carefully the next few months, and God help you if you get into trouble again. Get me?"
"Y-yes, sir...and...and thanks for letting us off. I swear-"
"Spare me your apologies. Just beat it."
Dave Vandenburg got up, his face twisted with mingled anger and relief. Then he plunged the fingers of his left hand into Eleanor Landers' thick coppery oval bun of hair and dragged her, wailing, off Kathy's lap and to her feet. "Come on, you," he snarled. "Okay, Bob, Pat, let's beat it. We done enough wrong tonight. Now we're gonna do some good." Eleanor tried to pull back, to look back to Mark Torrance, but Bob and Pat had taken hold of her elbows, and quick-marched her out of the house. The door slammed behind them. Kathy and Mark looked out of the window to see the quartet make their way back through the snow-covered cornfield.
Then the reaction hit Kathy, and she ran to him, burying her tearstained face in his chest. "Oh, Mark, Mark, darling, I was so afraid for you!" she sobbed.
"Sweetheart, I was afraid for you, not myself. I love you very much, Kathy."
"I-I can't seem to believe it yet, though you've told me, Mark darling. It-it's like a dream."
"Listen, I want to tell you the truth. I was infatuated with Eleanor. You know how that can happen. I've told you about Jacqueline, and I was emotionally low and feeling sorry for myself. And then she came at me, provocation personified, and almost convinced me she was sincere. I'm glad my cousin Dee broke the rule of keeping a confidence to tell me how she planned to trap me. Because if it had worked, I'd never have realized what a wonderful, sweet, warmhearted person you are, Kathy dearest."
She looked up at him shyly, an adorable little smile curving her frank sweet mouth. "Are you sure it isn't the rebound again this time, Professor Torrance?" she teased.
"I'm very sure."
"But I'm not," she pursued roguishly. "There's only one way to convince me right now."
"And what's that?"
She blushed, then whispered something in his ear.
"Kathy Edwards! You abandoned little baggage!" he gasped. "Do you realize what you're saying? Not till we're married, young lady."
"But we're going to be, ever so soon. And I want you very much, Mark. I want what Eleanor had, just once before we make it legal and proper and nice. I want to feel sinful. Because she once called me a milksop, did you know that? She doesn't think I know how to hold a man. And I think she's wrong."
"Kathy, I-" he began. But he got no farther. Her slim arms locked round him, and her mouth merged to his, and then he felt the unexpected rapier of her soft warm little tongue.
"Why, Kathy Edwards!" he gasped.
"Now then, Professor Torrance, are you going to carry this little baggage to bed, or are you going to let her stand out here all night in this cold kitchen?" she demanded, eyes twinkling with saucy merriment.
He laughed joyously. Then he picked her up in his arms and carried her down the dark hallway into the room with the brass-frame bed...
It's February now, and Kathy and Mark Torrance are married. Mark's first novel will be out on the stands by April, and Kathy thinks she ought to have news of their first rightful heir by that time too.
Eleanor Landers isn't at Marwell anymore. She's married too, to Dave Vandenburg. Everybody on campus is talking about it. Dave's still attending class, but Eleanor's home with his parents, learning how to be a good wife, and especially how to cook, clean the house, sew and do other chores Dave and his folks think even a modern girl should know. Her parents are delighted, once the shock of learning that their elegant daughter had decided to marry a small-town boy was over. It's sure to straighten her out, even Laura Landers feels.
It's just as well neither Laura Landers nor Eleanor's father knows just how the marriage was brought about. You see, Dave and his two friends Bob and Pat felt they'd been had but good, and they took it out on Eleanor. There's a ramshackle barn about two miles on the other side of the Crozier farm, and they took her there. First Dave had her, and then he invited his two buddies to enjoy their reward for the night's escapade. After which Dave talked cold turkey to the weeping redhead. That was for double-crossing them, he told her. But he was going to keep his word and marry her. Only if she ever pulled a double cross again, he'd take his belt to her. And if she didn't marry him, he'd spread the word around campus that she was an easy mark for any boy with sex on his mind.
So the erstwhile sorority snob is graduating from the college of life at last. At least this way, there's some hope for her redemption. And Mark Torrance's words to Eleanor Landers did come true, after all, when he said she might find someone at her own level. Or at least someone as clever as she was.