Chapter 5

SOME OF THE THINGS DR. WELLINGTON TOLD ME were pretty frank. He said. "People see themselves in other people."

I didn't quite know what he meant and asked him.

"It's called transference of guilt. You saw Lex as a sadist in order to justify the sadism within yourself."

"That's a lie."

"You wanted certain pleasure from him, so you accused him of being the sadist, which put you in the role of exacting just vengeance."

That made me mad. "You're a psychiatrist. You're supposed to help people, not accuse them of things."

"Don't tell me what I'm supposed to do."

I hated Dr. Wellington, but only because he deserved hating. I'd carried the memory of that war picture clear through my life, and it wasn't hard to lie there on the couch and see Dr. Wellington with one of those palm branches used on him.

"You're a sadist yourself," I said, and didn't try to keep the sneer out of my voice.

But actually, what happened between Dr. Wellington and me isn't important. I never had any sex with him. On the couch, when we started, I let my skirt go up once in a while; but it didn't bother him. And it didn't bother him when I bent my knees so he could see more.

Plenty of guys would have raped me if I'd shown them half as much. But I let him see everything. He just looked at my face and said, "Maybe you ought to use a chair instead of the couch."

I decided he was either all dried up or else a pansy and the hell with it. If some of the things I told him didn't get him excited, I knew nothing would. Like the parties in the roadhouse that I went to. Or the weekends when everybody taking off their clothes was only the start. Or how a girl who wanted to join a certain motorcycle club was initiated by having to take on every male member, one after another.

But as I said, Dr. Wellington wasn't important. And a lot of what happened to me around town before I quit living with Sis wasn't important either. But I guess what I did to Lex was important. Because Dr. Wellington asked a lot of questions about that.

What happened was this. After we finished in the basement, and he'd taken my virginity, he crawled back to the mattress and stretched out on his face, exhausted.

That was a break for me. I'd anticipated trouble in getting him on his back where I wanted him. But there he was, waiting for me. I crawled over to him and rubbed his back a little, very gentle.

He growled. "Cut it out. I won't be ready for you again for an hour. I want to sleep."

That was fine with me. I waited for five minutes, and when he was breathing evenly I took a pair of handcuffs from under the box near the mattress where I'd hidden them. I'd gotten them at a store where they sold theatrical equipment, and it hadn't been hard at all. The clerk thought I was working for a producer and he was so preoccupied by wondering how it would be to take me out back had bend me over a desk that he hardly knew what he was selling me.

I remember that I almost let him, too. He was good looking and his pants were so tight there would have been no surprises if he took them off. He was excited and flustered.

Anyhow, I had the handcuffs, and I moved Lex's arms around behind him and snapped them on. It didn't wake him up. I'd expected it to and was ready for him to jump but when he didn't, I got the rope I'd hidden and tied one end around his ankle and the other to a cement post near the wall. He was certainly out because he didn't even wake up when tying him pulled that leg way over until he was really spread-eagled.

Now it was my turn, and I began to feel very excited. It was time to wake him up, so I went to the washing machine and got an old dish towel that was there. It was soft and pliable, and I tied a hard knot in one corner and then stretched it out and tried it. The towel snapped fine when you jerked it just right, with a quick flip of your wrist.

I'd had practice because when I was a smaller I used to practice snapping a handkerchief at flies and grasshoppers. I was very accurate with a towel.

I went back to the mattress and looked down at Lex, spread-eagled just right, and picked my target. It was an easy shot for me.

I snapped the towel and the hard, water-soaked knot cracked like a pistol as I hit dead on my target.

Nobody on earth ever woke up so fast. A horrible animal roar of agony came out of his throat: his eyes popped open and his legs frogged desperately for a few moments as his whole body came up off the mattress.

"God!" he bellowed, and came down again, trying to roll over. His arms were flailing against the cuffs both legs got tangled in the rope, but he kept clawing behind his back, trying to reach the spot I'd hit with the towel. He rolled around in panic, and when he was on his back with his legs apart and flailing, I got another good shot with the towel. I didn't get him in the same place, but as I hit that target too, I remembered what I'd wanted to do to him in the balcony when I'd had the right grip. I'd wanted to cause the same agony I'd caused with the towel.

His eyes bulged when he felt it and a horrible scream came out of him; he started pawing toward that second place.

Then, when I went and got the knife, he sat up and stared at me in terror.

"You gone crazy or something?" he babbled.

I laughed. "I always wanted to be a doctor." I said. "A specialist."

His mouth was hanging open from amazement as he rubbed his thighs together trying to get at the hurt spots, all three of them, and not succeeding.

"You're crazy," he mumbled, shaking with terror. He was no longer the sneering rapist.

"I always wanted to be a doctor," I repeated, and tested the blade of the knife on my thumb as I looked where his legs had dropped open again He saw where I was looking and slammed his knees together in panic. "No! No! You can't do that! You're out of your mind"

"It might feel good," I taunted. "Besides, with a little attention you won't be a menace to society." "You re crazy, crazy" he kept muttering. He climbed to his feet, and I grabbed the rope fastened to one of his legs and pulled him down again. He teetered on one leg for a second and went down on his face and his knees.

More excited than I'd ever been in my life, I jumped on him and flattened him out on the mattress. I'd been looking forward to not only my own vengeance on this dope but the vengeance I'd take for the girls he was going to hurt in the future.

But that changed now, because I found I hated him most for calling me crazy.

"I'm going to kill you," I said.

"For Christ's sake! What's wrong with you? Why do you want to kill me?"

Then another thing happened, one I hadn't figured on. I got scared. I hadn't thought of that when I was planning this. I never went as far as thinking about what would happen after.

But now I wondered. What if Sis came home and found us this way? I knew I had to scare Lex and scare him good.

"When you raped me, you thought you were getting away with something, didn't you?"

"Are you kidding? I didn't rape you."

I laid the blade of the knife against his throat "Did you hear what I said?"

"Oh, sure, sure. You're a nice girl and I raped you."

"That's better. I'll let you go this time. But don't you ever come back here."

I took the handcuffs off and stood behind him with the knife, hoping I wouldn't have any trouble with him. But I needn't have worried. He was blubbering as he dressed. All he wanted to do was to get out of there.

When I saw how it was, that I didn't have to be afraid of him, I had only contempt for him. He was cowardly and disgusting.

He dressed in a hurry and didn't even wait to go upstairs with me. He ran. I went up after him and heard the back door slam, and I knew I'd never see him again.

It was funny right after that. I got weak. All weak and shaky. I'd planned it, and it had been very exciting; but I was astounded that I'd had the courage to do it.

I went upstairs to lie down; my strength returned and I felt better. I thought back over it and got all weak in the knees.

Then I guess I slept because when I woke up I heard the door downstairs and knew Sis was just getting home.

She called, "Lorna, are you upstairs?"

I went down and looked at the things she bought, and then we made supper and talked.

But Sis was very quiet, and I knew she had something on her mind. "Did something happen?" I asked.

She didn't say anything for a while. Then she got it out quick. "Lorna, Frank wants to marry me."

It was like a blow. I didn't know what to say. Then I threw out the first thought that came to my mind.

"What about me?"

"Would you object, Lorna?"

"I don't know."

There was worry in Sis' eyes but that didn't bother me. A little worry never hurt anybody, and maybe it was time she did a little worrying about me instead of thinking about playing around with Frank all the time.

I remembered what I'd seen down in the living room and almost told her about it. Just so she'd know I wasn't an idiot. I wondered how she'd react if I said: / saw you that day with your pants off and your head on the lounge while you bit your own knee. It was disgusting. My own sister making love in the living room.

"I've tried to make a home for you since Mother died," Sis said.

I thought, is that such a big deal? But I didn't say it. It was better to let Sis think I didn't have any resentment.

"I guess I've been pretty strict, Lorna, but the way the world is today, and our being all alone — "

I knew that wasn't it. She had something else on her mind. "I've always done what you told me."

"Yes. You've been a wonderful girl, and I'm proud of you. But — "

"But what?"

"There's something I've got to tell you." "I'm listening."

"I've got to tell you because you aren't a child any more. You're an adult. You'll find out sometime and perhaps hold it against me for not telling you."

I wished she'd say what she had on her mind and quit dodging around it.

"Does it have something to do with Frank?"

When I asked that, I had a clear image of how he'd looked on his knees in front of Sis. How he'd looked with his back to me, naked and the position he'd been in. It was exciting, and I got that loose, flowing feeling, but I giggled on the inside. I thought how he'd been so vulnerable. Frank must have been some kind of a nut or something, I thought, not to have taken Sis completely.

Then I thought of Sis, the way she was sitting there at the kitchen table, all cool and beautiful, and how she'd looked on the lounge with her clothes off and her mouth open and panting, her eyes closed, the moans coming out of her throat and reaching all the way to the upper hallway.

People were animals. There just weren't any two ways about it. Animals. And you couldn't have any respect for them.

Take Sis. Sitting there masquerading as a decent person when she'd done a degenerate thing like that.

And while I didn't say it, I told myself that she had no right to ask for love and respect from me. When I got an example like that from my own sister, just about anything I ever did would be all right.

"No," Sis said. "It's about Father."

"I never knew him very well. He left when I was quite small."

"Yes. And he never came back to see us. The reason was that he'd been forbidden to, by the court."

"I never knew that."

"Mother kept it from you because you were so small. You wouldn't have understood."

"But you did understand."

"I was older, Lorna."

It was a blow. A distinct blow. To learn that my own mother, whom I loved and revered, had held out on me. But she'd told Sis. I knew I'd never feel the same about Mom again. Gradually, you learn that you don't owe anything to anybody, and now I'd found out that I didn't even owe my own mother any loyalty.

"It's a hard thing to say," Sis went on, "about our own father. But about a year after I was born, he began acting strange."

"What do you mean, strange?"

"Well, he beat Mother one night. That was the beginning of it. And after that he, well, he made her do some repulsive things."

I knew right away. I don't know why, but I knew, and I could have made it hard for Sis by demanding the details. But I felt sorry for her, maybe because she was such a hypocrite and stumbled around so.

"That was why Mom divorced him?"

"Yes, there were other beatings later, so she filed for divorce; and the court said he could only see his children when Mother was there. And then only when she said he could."

It seemed to me that was a pretty dirty trick on my father, but I didn't say anything.

"He never tried, though," Sis said, "and later, he got into trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"With the police. I didn't get the details. I didn't want them. But what I want to tell you is how it ended, so if you hear it from somebody else, you won't be shocked."

Sis didn't have any idea of how hard it was to shock me, and I didn't let on.

"Father went to jail," she said, "and served a term. He was released and got into more trouble. That time he was sent to an asylum. He died there."

"You mean he went insane?"

"It wasn't his fault, Lorna. Don't think harshly of him. Things like that happen to people."

I wasn't thinking harshly of him. I was thinking that way about my mother and Sis. They were the ones who let my father down.

There was no point in really feeling sorry for him because it was too late. But there was one thing I decided. I didn't owe Sis loyalty any longer. She'd kept me in the dark about my own father. As far as I was concerned she no longer fit into my life, except on my terms.

So I planned to go out that night, something I'd never done before. In a way, I was glad she'd chosen that day to tell me about my father, because now I wouldn't feel in the least guilty about sneaking out. I probably would have been ashamed, otherwise.

"When are you going to marry Frank?"

"I haven't agreed yet. I've been thinking about you, Lorna."

"I think you ought to get it over with."

"It's all right with you if he comes here to live?"

"It will be fine."

I was already* thinking how it would be with a man around the place all the time.

So Sis had told me two things, about my father and about Frank. And she gave me a good excuse to go down to that gas station at Main and Sixth without feeling guilty, after she went to work.

I wore a sweater and a tight skirt that showed off my hips and came three inches above my knees when I sat down.

The same blond guy was there, Hank Wells, and when I walked in his eyes went straight to my boobs and lit up. I thought how disgusting it was with men. All they thought about was sex.

I was thinking about something else. How I was going to fix Hank for what he'd done to a girl friend of mine.

"The telephone's still working," he grinned. Glad you remembered us."

"I didn't come for a phone call," I said. "I just thought you might have a cold bottle of pop in that machine."

"Right," he answered, "and it's my treat."

I sat down, and he put a dime into the machine and brought me a bottle, his eyes dropping to the thigh I showed him — the inside of my thigh because I was sitting on my leg and my skirt had come way up.

He went and got a bottle for himself, came back and said, "I'm through in half an hour."

I looked bored. "So?"

"I thought we might take that drive."

"It's possible," I said languidly.

Nothing more of interest happened in the station except that I got so excited I kept rubbing my thighs together. I remembered how it had been with Lex, and I could hardly wait.

It wasn't hard to see what was on his min as we drove out into the country. I could feel his thoughts as I sat beside him in the car. And I could almost smell the heat riding in him. When he put one hand on my thigh, I shook.

He drove to a place where there were woods and rough country and pulled to the side of the road. When we got out of the car something happened to me. Something new. I wanted him so bad I forgot all about how I'd planned to get his clothes off and then run to his car, drive away and leave him. That had been my idea.

The feeing I had was not the same as the one I'd had with Lex.

I wanted to worship him. And I would have, at the least sign from him.

It was funny in a way. Usually a guy courts a girl a little bit before he goes for her. But Hank didn't. It was all so matter-of-fact that it should have been repulsive.

It wasn't though. It was one of the most exciting things that ever happened to me.

When we were out of the car he stopped and said, "Do you think we ought to take the seat out of the car to lie on?"

I heard myself answering, "We ought to be able to find a soft spot."

It was weird, like we were talking about having a picnic or something like that.

He took my hand and began walking, and walked along beside him, completely in his power. Out there in the woods, all alone, he could have killed me if he'd been a moron.

I held his hand and trotted along beside him like a little girl with her father. We didn't talk.

By the time we got to a place he liked, a little space between some bushes where there was grass, I was all crazy inside. I wanted everything. I wanted to worship him, be worship and do any new tricks he wanted me to.

I was a little scared at how bad I wanted him. My mouth was full of saliva. My nervous system must have been ready for what I knew would happen.

I was hot that way. Hot and eager. There was a big moon, and we could see each other as clear as day. I stood there feeling timid and shy for some crazy reason.

What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Take your skirt off."

Just like a little girl obeying her father. When the skirt was off he stood looking at my legs, his eyes practically petting them.

"Your panties."

When I took those off I didn't have anything on but my shoes and stockings and a thin garter belt. He stared and I saw him lick his lips.

"Aren't you going to undress?"

"Take off your sweater and blouse."

I wasn't wearing a bra so that left me practically naked.

"God, you're stacked," he muttered, and the tone of his voice thrilled me. I wished I had more to show him.

But I guess it was enough because he dropped down on his knees to look better. I stood there and felt his hands on me. He ran them up my thighs and over my belly and then cupped one boob in each hand. The nipples were standing out like marbles, so hard they hurt, and I ached to have him bite them. A sweet, fierce feeling went through me; and I had a quick, crazy vision back in my mind. In the vision, he bit off one of my nipples and then said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and I smiled sweetly and said, "That's all right.''

I asked, "Do you want my stockings and garter belt off?" Standing there asking him like a slave. And I guess I was his slave right then. I'd have done anything for him.

He put his mouth against my belly, and I could feel his hot tongue. I began to shake, and then I bent over with one of my boobs cupped in my hand, crazy to feel his mouth and tongue on it.

"Please" I said.

He raised his face, and then it hurt wonderfully. Not just the nipple, all of it, all he could gather into his mouth while his tongue worked wildly.

"Undress," I gasped. "Oh, please undress."

"Not yet," he said, and kept staring, wanting to see everything he was going to have. Wanting to get acquainted.

I stood there shivering, my knees weak from thinking how it would be and cursing him for being so slow. But my curses were love words, not really curses as I stood there feeling his hot, wonderful mouth on me.

Then he drew back, got up and began to undress. He did it methodically and completely, folding his shirt carefully and laying it out of the way.

As he reached toward his belt, he said, "Spread your skirt out on the grass."

I did as he told me, laying it out flat, and when I finished he had his pants off and was folding them carefully. He laid them on his shirt and then took his shorts off.

I gasped and thought of Lex, remembered how he'd scared me. I should have been twice as scared now because that was how Hank was. Almost twice as anxious as Lex. But I wasn't scared. The muscles of my thighs twitched, and my belly kind of crawled. It's the only way I can describe it. As though when the message went from my eyes to my brain it caused panic.

He was tall, slim and wide-shouldered.

But so strong, a girl had a right to be scared. I wasn't, though. I was just crazy with desire.

"Lie down on the skirt," he said, and as I did so I loved him for being so considerate of me, not wanting my rear on the cold grass.

Lying there on the ground, I looked up at him; and he was like a naked giant looming over me. I was being very proper and formal with my thighs tight together, not wanton and witchy, the way I really felt.

He went to his knees and then stretched his heavy length out on my body. Pressing down with all of his weight, all of it on me, so heavy and frightening.

His arms went around me, and our mouths came together. I could taste his hot breath. He pried my mouth open wide and found my tongue with his; the thrill went clear down through me. So hot and eager and thrusting, like a preview of things to come. Things to come that I could hardly wait for.

And I said the things that came into my mind. "Please don't hurt me," which was stupid because I wanted the exact opposite. I wanted to be hurt.

"No," he said in a choked, absent way as though he was getting pleasure out of torturing himself by taking it slow, waiting.

"Be gentle with me." I whispered as I licked his ear.

We went back to our kiss, and his whisper went down my throat as his tongue hunted for mine. "I will."

I'd pulled my tongue back, making him reach for it and he opened my jaws so far, reaching, that they hurt. Exploring with his tongue as though he wanted to remember every bit and contour of my mouth.

Then he began prying with his knees, and I whimpered from eagerness as I relaxed.

"Now," he said, and I croaked a wordless answer of agreement. Now.

It was a kind of signal, as though we'd rehearsed this before. Rehearsed it a thousand times in a thousand other lives and it was familiar to us.

I pulled my knees wide, and in pure reckless delight, in the wild freedom that comes then only and at no other time, I threw them outward and upward up, up, until I was straining.

He'd put his own knees on the ground to give me leeway, and I used it all so that he had to take a step forward on his knees to reach me again. And when he did, he lunged.

I was tensed, waiting, expecting the bruises I'd gotten from Lex, but there weren't any. The direct plunge and the indescribable feeling that was kind of a trap. The feeling that told a girl she'd passed the point of no return. This was it. This was the business. He had her now, and there was no way out.

He had me, but I wanted to be had, so that made it all right.

I wanted so much to be good, to satisfy him, and it made me all crazy inside and out. I wanted him to have me and still not lose my mouth, so my head was way back, my neck bent so that by bending his head down he could still have my mouth. He wanted my lips tight together, my mouth against his with only his tongue. The same closeness, working together in the same rhythm.

He'd hooked his hand over my shoulders, so I couldn't be pushed away from him. That way, he was pulling back on my shoulders each time and it was thrilling and wonderful: I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stand it.

But I'd have to stand it because if I'd tried to get away, it would have been rape, just the plain act of a man raping a girl.

I remembered a comment from school. What one of the girls said once: When a man takes that away from you, it's rough.

But what girl would want it any different? What kind of a girl would want a man to be gentle at a time like this?

He was so close, so very close. He'd stopped lashing with his tongue, and his cheek was pressed against mine; we clung to each other. And every one of his rasping, tortured breaths was a lunge into my ear. Hot! All the lust in him sounding in my ear while we slammed against each other to the beat of the rising ecstasy.

There was the sharp slap of flesh when we hit just right.

I moaned, and his rhythm increased. "I can't stand it! Oh, I can't stand it!" That was my voice. But it was a liar because then I was moaning, "Oh, harder, lover! Bruise me, sweetheart! Smash me into little pieces, darling!"

Then I had to find his mouth. I had to find it quick because that was where I wanted the scream to go, because it was all I had left to give. The scream of ecstasy that had to come.

He knew, and he gave me his mouth just as I'd given myself to him.

We both strained against the finish as long as possible. And with me, it wasn't a scream. It was just an animal howl of pure delight that met his deep animal growl of devouring passion.

Then we collapsed and lay there while the world went by. That complete, sweet exhaustion after we were finished, tranquility. The deep, relaxation, our limbs lying heavy.

The sweat was pouring off of us and blending as our bodies had blended.

And then I was crying.

He got off of me, and through my tears I saw him all blurry. There was something white, and I knew he'd taken a handkerchief from his pocket.

Then he began to dress.

"Are you going to leave me here naked?"

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The way you left Peggy?"

"Who's Peggy?"

"A blonde girl — "

"Oh, sure. But what's this about leaving her naked?"

"You took her clothes and wouldn't give them back to her."

"Are you kidding?" "That's what she said."

"Why the hell would she say a thing like that?" I felt like a fool.

"You better get up and get dressed."

He didn't want to talk. I tried, but he kept going silent. As though I'd been a gas customer who had made a purchase and that was that.

We were silent all the way back to town, and with nothing else to do I thought about the lies Peg had told. About what had happened to her.

And I knew I'd never trust a woman again.

Then, when we got to my block, he stopped the car and said, "So long, kid." He said it as casually as though all he'd done was drive me home from his gas station.

"Aren't we going to see each other again?"

"I'll be moving on in a few days. I don't stay in one place long."

"You mean you'll find some other girl the next place you go?"

"Sure. You sound as though we were married, baby."

"I — I thought we might — "

"You'll be finding other guys. You've got a lot of living to do, honey."

"Don't you ever expect to get married?"

"Sure. Sometime."

"Let's keep in touch, Hank."

He moved the car a little, anxious to be on his way. "Take it easy, hon. And don't take any wooden — "

He finished with a word and a laugh and left me standing there.

I ran into the house, tears blinding me.

And I knew I'd never trust another man again...