Chapter 5
Mike never set the alarm on Saturday night because Sunday was his one day to lay in bed late. He always felt as if he could stay in bed all day when he turned in on Saturday night, but as usual, along about nine Sunday morning he opened his eyes, glanced at the clock and began to get restless. So he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He needed a shave badly and his hair was a mess, but he let it go a minute and went to the corridor door and opened it a crack. No one was outside so he snaked his arm out and grabbed the Sunday paper. He was a lot less brave on Sunday morning about his nakedness than he was on Saturday night. He tossed the paper on the chair and went into the kitchen. When the coffee was started he dumped a can of frozen orange juice into a pitcher of water. While the coffee brewed and the juice thawed in the cold water he cleaned himself up, got dressed and straightened up the apartment. He fried three eggs in some butter and ate breakfast while he read the paper.
The news of the day was not something to get up to first thing on Sunday morning. Nor was it something to share your breakfast with. Since Mike had combined the two the effect was almost too much for him.
The new leaders in North Vietnam promised that they would never give up and that the war would last another twenty years or at least as long as there remained one American soldier in South Vietnam. There was more trouble in the Middle East, Central America, South America and Thailand. The Russians, beaten to the moon firmly stated that they would be the first to land a man on Mars.
Phooey! Mike turned the page to see how Dagwood and Blondie were doing.
He was able to kill over an hour with paper and breakfast. After he had dumped the dishes into the sink he walked out of the apartment and knocked on Sandy's door. No one answered and he had knocked again before he remembered that she had told him that she was going to visit her sister and her husband today. Mike wondered how she had gotten up in time to get out early enough. He had put her to bed and had not set any alarm for her. Well, it was obvious that she made out alright somehow.
He sat down in front of the television and tried to get interested in the first few innings of the Tiger-White Sox game, but he could not keep his mind on the action. There was too much to be done. Allan Farris kept intruding into his thoughts. Along with his wife. The blonde and beautiful Elly.
He got up and went to the phone and dialed Tom Watters' number. This had to be set up and now was a good time to get started on it.
The phone rang a half dozen times and Mike was ready to hang up when he heard the receiver being picked up at the other end of the line. A man's voice said hello.
"Tom? This is Mike."
"Mike," Tom Watters said happily. "How have you been? It's been a long time."
Tom's enthusiasm made Mike feel good. He had known Tom for a good many years, but they had not been as close recently as they had been in the past.
"Tom, I'm sorry I haven't seen you lately," Mike apologized, "but you know how it is with business and all."
"Hell, that's no excuse," the voice over the phone boomed good heartedly.
"Now I feel guilty," Mike said. "I have a reason for calling. I need a favor."
"Of course," Watters said and Mike thought he noticed a slight drop in the enthusiasm in the other man's voice.
"Tom, I'd like to use your darkroom and lab some night to develop some film that I'm going to take," Mike told him.
Tom Watters was an amateur photographer and had a room in his basement set up as a darkroom and photography laboratory. He was really quite serious about the hobby and had a great deal of money invested in equipment.
"Sure, Mike," Watters said. "Any time. Do you know what your are doing or do you want me to help you?"
"To tell you the truth, Tom, I would prefer to do the work myself. This is a private deal and I would feel better if no one knew about it while it was in the early stages. I don't think I'd make a mess of things over there. I've watched you often enough and I've done plenty of my own films in the past. Would that be alright with you?"
Watters hesitated and then said, "Sure. Why not?"
"I really appreciate it," Mike told him.
"It's no trouble. You know where we keep the extra key over the door?"
"I remember. Say hello to Gail for me."
"I will. Are you going to get a chance to stop over sometime or are we going to have to come and find you if we want to see you?"
Mike laughed.
"You'll see me," he said. "As soon as I get a little deal I'm working on settled."
"This deal what you need the darkroom for."
"Yes."
"Can you tell me anything about it?"
I'd prefer not to," Mike hedged. He did not want to sound too alarmed to his friend.
"Okay, old man," Watters said. "I understand. But be sure and let us see you now and then."
"Will do," Mike said, eager now to end the conversation. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Mike."
Mike returned the phone to the cradle. His hand was moist and it trembled slightly. He had been unaware of his nervousness.
It was beginning, he thought. This was the start.
He spent the rest of the day wandering around town on foot trying to work off the nervous energy that seemed ready to overwhelm him. He stopped to see a movie that had interested him for some time, but like the baseball game on television earlier in the day, it could not hold his interest. He ate supper in a small Italian restaurant about a mile from his apartment and took his time strolling home.
Mike could hear the phone ringing in his apartment while he was hunting for the door key in his pants pocket. He got the door open and made a dash for the phone, but when he picked it up all he heard was the dial tone. He had a pretty good idea who it might have been and he did not worry. She would call again.
As he was undressing the phone rang again. He picked it up after the first ring.
"Where have you been?" was the first thing that she said.
"Hello, Elly," Mike said.
"I asked where you've been?" she said. "I've been calling you for over two hours."
"I know what you asked. To tell you the truth, I can't really see where it is any of your business where I have been."
Mike did not like the demanding authoritative tone in Elly's voice. He did not like the feeling of being tied to her. On top of all that he did not like being checked up on. Sleep with a beautiful woman, a woman who is used to getting what she wants, and she expects to keep you tied up forever. Or at least as long as she is interested in you.
Elly's voice softened and she apologized.
"AH right," she said, "I'm sorry. I was just nervous. Now will you tell me where you were."
Mike had to laugh at her incredible ego. She thought that one sweet word of apology out her luscious lips was enough for anybody. It was ludicrous.
"I had dinner alone in a little restaurant near town, he said. "I've just been walking."
"Walking? Alone?"
"Elly," he said, his voice rising.
"Okay, okay!" she said backing off. "I said I was sorry."
"What did you call me about?" Mike asked. He knew damn well what she wanted, but what the hell. Why not make her work too.
"I want to know what's happening, Mike. I'm nearly frantic. I'm stuck here all alone and I don't even know if you care for me anymore."
"For God's sake, Elly. It's only been two days."
"It seems like two years."
"All right. All right."
"I want to know what you have done so far. Couldn't you at least call and let me know what you have been doing?"
"That's all I need to do," Mike said, "start calling your house and giving your hourly bulletins now. What do I do when your husband answers? Should I tell him who I am and just ask to talk to you?"
Elly's voice was cool.
"He's a rich man, darling. He would never dream of answering the phone himself. There are servants to do that."
"And you love it too, don't you, you bitch?" Mike said, the anger boiling within him.
"Mike," Elly said. "Don't be nasty. Yes, I like it. Anybody would. Being poor is the most stinking thing that I can think of. What the hell do you think I married the son of a bitch for in the first place?"
"Where is he now?" Mike asked.
"In his own bedroom suite. I told you we sleep in separate bedrooms. That's another thing. When are you coming to see me? I need you."
Mike detected a note of rising passion in her calm voice.
"It's dangerous," he said.
"Wouldn't you take a chance for me?" Her voice was silky and low now. "Don't be silly."
"Mike."
"What?"
"I'm naked, Mike."
"Elly," Mike's voice was pained.
"I wish you were here now, Mike. If you were you know what you'd see?"
Mike felt the blood rush to his ears. The vision of the lovely blonde standing naked appeared before him.
"Mike? Are you there?"
Not knowing what he was doing, Mike nodded his head. "Yes," he said.
"My nipples are hard, baby," Elly said. "I've got one hand on my pussy. I'm touching it Mike. It could be your hand you know. It could be your hand slipping into my hot spot. Ooooooh, Mike, I'm getting excited. I need you. I want your cock. My cunt is open for you, darling. Come fuck me."
Mike could hear her gasps and ragged breathing.
"I could make myself come, Mike. I could, but I won't. I'll save it for you."
Mike swallowed hard.
"Elly," he said, trying to make his voice firm. "It's no good. If I kept running over to your house it would louse things up. It would be too dangerous. We have to be very careful."
There was a long pause. Mike strained to hear her breathing over the line. Finally, "Whatever you say." Her voice had regained its composure and Mike had to wonder what part of the sexy scene that she had just played had been real and what part phony. He could never trust her, he reminded himself for the hundredth time.
"What have you done so far?" she asked.
He told her about the set up on the photography lab and what he had planned for the next day.
"Can't you move any faster?" she prodded.
"If you want to blow the whole thing for the sake of a couple of extra days," he said, "you might want to get somebody else."
"No, no," she said hurriedly. "It sounds fine. Just keep me informed, that's all."
"I'll call you when I think it's safe," he said. "All right?"
"All right."
"Then sit tight and everything will be all right. Don't worry." She laughed.
"That's what I told you," she said.
"What?"
"Don't worry."
"Goodnight," he said.
"Mike?"
"What now?"
"I miss you."
"Okay," he said. "I miss you too. Goodnight." He hung up and went straight to bed. She had worn him out and she had done it over the phone.