Chapter 4
"WELL, HAVE YOU GOT IT WITH YOU?" if Joe asked. "What?" asked Rudy.
Joe grimaced in disgust. Then suddenly, unable to keep up the pretense, he grinned. He couldn't be sore-not just now, when the things he had always dreamed of were starting to come true. Yes, this was a great day in his life-real great! "Your driver's license," he said. "I told you to bring it with you."
"Oh, I've got that."
"Let's have a look at it."
Rudy handed it to him and he glanced at it and returned it.
They were on a subway train, riding to Flatbush.
Rudy shook his head and murmured. "I still can't believe it. It don't seem right, her buying you a new car. Why, you met her less than two mondis ago."
"I didn't say it was a. new car."
"All right, a used car-what's the difference? Naw, I just don't believe it."
Joe grinned again, slowly, thoughtfully, and looked out of the window at the wall of the tunnel hurtling by. "We'll soon be there," he said casually. "You'll see it there, nicely parked in front of her house.
They stood at the curb, admiring the clean red convertible.
"But I don't get it-how do you know this is it?" Rudy shook his head doubtfully. "Naw, this isn't it. She wouldn't get you a classy convertible like this."
"The one in front of her house-that's what she told me," Joe replied smugly.
"Aw, there must be some mistake." A note of envy crept into Rudy's voice. "It's too nice a car for a guy like you. You won't take care of it-you'll wreck it."
"Maybe. But that's what cars are for, aren't they?"
Rudy got in and slid behind the wheel. Grasping it with his pudgy hands, he tried turning it. "She's a honey, all right." Suddenly, staring down at the dashboard: "Hey, where's the keys?-how'm I gonna drive it away without the keys?"
"There's a note pinned to the back of the seat," said Joe.
He ripped the slip of paper loose and read it. "Keys are inside," he said. "On the kitchen table. She wants me to go in and get them."
"She leave the door open?" Rudy asked.
Joe looked towards the house. "Guess so. How else would she expect me to get in?"
The door was open, and he entered. As he walked across to the kitchen table, he heard a sound, saw young Sue Carter standing in the doorway of her bedroom eyeing him disdainfully. "Oh, it's you she twisted her lips in an effortless smile. She was wearing an old bathrobe, faded and stained, its belt hanging loose. She clutched at this now and pulled it close.
"What are you staring at? What do you want?" she demanded imperiously.
He saw the keys on the table, took them and pocketed them.
Sue drew closer to him, clutching the bathrobe tight er than ever. "Did Helen say you could take those?"
He handed her the note and she read it, crumpled it, and dropped it on the floor.
"You look kind of pale, Sue. Something wrong?"
"I should say so-I'm sick. That's why I'm at home."
"Well, take it easy. Drink plenty of hot lemonade." He grinned at her and chuckled her under the chin.
She slapped viciously at his hand and snarled, "Don't you dare touch me!"
Genuinely surprised, he stared at her. Her face was flushed, her eyes narrowed and venomous, her lips dry and caked. She really did appear to be ill. She tightened her grasp on the bathrobe, as if in dread he might see what it hid.
He grinned at her again, then abruptly turned and started for tire door. She darted around him and stood in his path.
"What now?" he asked.
"I-" She was flustered, uncertain. "I-wanted to-" She crimsoned and her lips trembled. She lowered her eyes and as she did she dropped her arms to her sides. The bathrobe came open, exposing a pair of small virginal breasts tipped with pink. She forced herself to look up; a parody of a smile, wan and sickly, appeared on the caked lips. "Don't you want to stay with me a while, Joe?-keep me company?"
"I've got a friend waiting for me downstairs," he said. He knew that she was up to no good, was out to get something on him. He tried to pass around her but she backed off quickly and stood between him and the door.
"Look, don't go yet-don't!" She giggled nervously then shuddered, as if a chill of fever had suddenly swept her. "See?-watch!" She tugged at her bathrobe and it came open all the way down. "I'm hot, Joe-I'm hot. This is your chance!" She began to undulate her small hips suggestively. "You like it?" It's nice, isn't it?" She shut her eyes, covered them with the back of her palm, and continued to roll her hips, gradually increasing the speed of the movement. "I'm hot-hot-hot!" she whispered hoarsely.
He tried to push past her, but she threw herself at him, wound her arms around him, pressed her body against his. Her lips, wet now, sought his hungrily; her tongue darted in and out, licking at his chin. He shoved her roughly out of the way and made for the door. His hand was on the knob when she caught hold of the back of his trousers. She was ferocious, an enraged wildcat. She clutched at his shirt, ripped it, scratched at the skin beneath. "Pig!" she screamed. "Dirty pig! I'll tell, I'll tell everything!"
He stared at her with incredulity. What was she trying to pull:' She was clawing at his face. "Dirty pig!" she was snarling, "dirty pig!" The thought came and went that it was too bad ... he'd read somewhere that hatred could make a woman hotter ... he could smell her excitement ... any other time, if she hadn't been Helen's sister. "Dirty pig!" She was hysterical and her nails were at his throat.
He brought his open hand sharply against her cheek, stunning her. "Now! will you let me out?" he gasped. He took another threatening step towards her. Tears flooded her eyes, reddening them, left crisscrossing paths of wetness on her rather plump cheeks. "You little bitch-let me out!"
"I'll tell everything-I'll tell her."
He grabbed her arms, held them imprisoned at her sides. "Tell her? Tell who?-Helen?"
"Yes-yes, her! I'll tell her everything."
"What? Just what?"
"That you"-she giggled hysterically-"that you tried to rape me." Her nakedness framed by the shabby old bathrobe was suddenly pathetic.
He laughed, released her, and opened the door. "Tell her. See if it makes any difference."
"Hey!" said Rudy, aghast. "Hey, what happened to you, Joe?"
Joe opened the door of the car and inserted the key in the ignition switch. "Get going!' he snapped irritably.
"What happened?" Rudy asked. "Aw, come on, you got to tell me, Joe. You run into a cyclone or something?"
Joe rubbed the sore spot on his throat. "No, not that. If I ran into anything, it was a heat wave."
"Joe, your shirt-and your neck's bleeding-boy, are you a mess!"
"Shut up, damn you! Shut up and teach me how to drive this buggy! That's what I brought you for."