Chapter 6
BOY-O banged on the door to Sam Revere's house. "Hey," he shouted at the top of his voice. "Hey, Sarah, sweetheart, open up." He noticed with satisfaction that not only did a light go on in the second story of the Revere house but on the second stories of the two adjoining houses as well. They'd all be listening to what went on, every ear perked to catch a breath of scandal. And he would give it to them.
Jeanni had left him in a mood to start wrecking; things. He had a thousand scores to settle, and he might as well begin.
"What do you want? Who do you think you are, coming here at this time of night?" Sarah stood at the front door in a wrapper of some kind. She'd opened the door a crack, just enough to poke half of her face through, and call him down.
"Don't you remember who I am? Uh, Sarah baby? Don't you remember?"
"Of course I remember. But do you have to let all the neighbors in on it too?"
She noticed their audience as well as he had.
Lesson number two had just begun.
"My chicks don't care about their neighbor's opinions. Neighbors are a bunch of...."
"Shh! They'll hear you."
"Good. I hope they do." Then he turned around and shouted in the direction of one lighted window. "Turn off your lights and go back to sleep you nosey crumbs! Give us some privacy for God's sake."
Sarah came out on the porch and tugged on his shirt sleeve. "Please! Please!"
He whirled around and caught her in his arms. "Give me a little kiss, Sarah sweetie. I came back to tell you what my name is."
She pulled away from his embrace, and ran for the door to the house, but he followed her and pushed her aside. "Thanks, I think I will come in."
He walked directly into the front room and settled into the large cane rocker that had obviously been her adorable father's favorite chair. He could tell that by the way it was placed in the room. In Swatnik's Landing the man's armchair was always the most prominent chair in the room. It was a way of announcing the importance of the father and husband-a pretty corny way, but their way nonetheless.
"What do you want? How dare you come here this late at night and raise such hell! T have to live in this town."
"So you do. But I thought you'd be glad to see me. And you are, aren't you. Take your robe off, honey. I want to look at your pretty boobs."
"Look. What happened this afternoon was all a mistake. I don't know what hit me. I've never acted like that before in my whole life. And I never will again." She said the words as if she were reciting an assigned poem in grammar school. Boy-O could tell that she didn't mean a word of that.
"You've seen too many movies, baby."
He got out of his chair and walked toward her slowly with that leering smile on his lips, and the cocky swagger back in his walk. She backed away from him and her admission was in her eyes. "Are you frightened?" he said.
"Yes. You frighten me." Her voice trembled. "And I frighten me. I don't know what's happened to me."
Boy-O was close to her now. She stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her bosom, not knowing whether to run toward him or away from him.
"Don't you want to know my name?"
"Yes. Of course I do."
"It's Carter. Boy-O Carter."
For a moment she frowned. "But I seem to remember that name. We haven't met before, have we?" .
"Uh-huh. We've met." He placed his hands around her back and then grabbed her lovely rear. He pulled her to him, almost lifting, her off the ground as he did.
"Was that through my father? No, if I'd met you that recent-stop that. Please stop that." She pulled her head away from his lips and felt them coolly on her neck instead. A shiver rattled her spine. She wanted to move out of his arms at the same time as she wanted to move closer. His hand teased the bottom of her spine.
Then abruptly he pushed her away from him. "I don't know what I am bothering with you for. I've already had a woman tonight." The lie tasted bitter on his lips. That brought back the scene he had consciously forgotten walking over to Sarah's. That brought Jeanni back to the front of his mind.
He paced the room irritably, waiting for her to make a move in his direction, waiting for her to try to throw him out. Boy-O had decided that he was at Sarah's to stay. That would be a nice scandal to set old Sam revolving in his grave. "It's a pretty funny thing that you don't remember me. I remember you. When I was a kid, my mother did your washing, and I became very familiar with every piece of your clothing. I used to dig looking for your underwear. That was a kind of revenge you know. At school, all the kids would either razz me or snub me, but I was better than them. I had something on them. I knew their panties intimately." He howled with laughter. "I'd walk up to the minister's daughter, see. When she'd dig me coming at her, she'd turn her sweet little back on the town scandal and throw her tiny nose as high in the air as her hairline. But I'd keep going, you know. And then I'd whisper to her snobbish little ear, 'What ones do you have on today, Mary Lou, pink or baby blue?' That little crud would go purple. I tell you that worked every time"
"Now I remember you, of course. Your mother was Janey Carter. Everyone said that you...."
"If you'd listen to what I say, I would have just answered that nasty little question for you." He was angry now. It felt good to be angry at something familiar. He danced closer to Sarah and the look on his face threatened her more than his body did. "Tell me, Sarah, now that you place me do you happen to remember how my mother died?"
"No. But she was sick for a long time wasn't she?"
"Yeah. It was a long slow, painful death my mother died. Of course your father made that as hard as he could."
"My father?"
"Yeah, he gave her the cheapest medicines in his store, damn him. Because he knew she didn't have any money and that she wouldn't live much longer anyway. That was your father, sweetie. The kindest bloody grave digger in the world."
Boy-O watched her shrug. "I know. He was a louse." She caught the surprised expression on his face and almost smiled at it. For once she had won a victory over him. "I don't care about anything you can tell me about him, not anything. I know that he did worse things."
"You mean his dope ring?"
"How did you find out about that?"
"I heard from a couple of fellows."
"Well, he ran a very profitable little business until the police began to suspect. him. When things got too hot he killed himself. Just stuck the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The room was a mess." She ran her hand through her hair absent-mindedly. Then as if waking up, she looked at Boy-O and said, "But you told me you had business with my father. What could you possibly have meant by that?"
"I came again to this hole to get him."
"You mean to pay him back?"
"Better than that. To pay him double."
Sarah yawned. "Do you want some coffee?"
Boy-O shrugged.
She led the way into the kitchen, talking and yawning over her shoulder. "Well, I still don't see how that-oh, wait a minute, yes I do. That's why you made such a racket out there. You decided to substitute me for him. T see." She searched his face for an answer, but Boy-O kept it expressionless. "You decided to ruin my reputation. Well, that's already ruined."
"Reputation was only part of it, baby." Boy-O watched her face. The best part of revenge was making the other person know about it and watching them suffer with it. "I'm going to give you an appetite for me, Sarah. I'm going to make you want me so much and so often you'll do or say anything for me." He laughed. "That won't be difficult. Look at you, you can hardly stand up with your thoughts. And your eyes. Do you have a hard time keeping them off me, baby?"
Sarah turned away from him and leaned against the sink. She ran some cool water over her wrists and pressed some drops to her overheated forehead. He shocked her. The worst of that was that he was right. She did want him, and bad. He could probably do anything he wanted with her, and she'd probably like that.
"And you will be happy," she murmured, "if you ruin what's left of my life?"
"I'll make you happy, dollface. For a while."
"I'm engaged, you know."
"You'll break that off if he doesn't. But he will. You righteous women make me sick. Come here to daddy, Sarah sweetheart."
She looked at him standing in front of her. For a moment she thought of fighting him, or screaming and waking the neighbors and having Mm run out of town. For a moment she imagined him beaten up by upstanding neighbors or at least in jail. And she thought next of how she would spend her night if he left. Alone on that bed of hers, and uncomfortable on the cool sheets and nowhere and no one to turn to for satisfaction. Unless she sent for her fiance. The thought of Ben Johnson made her shudder. Boy-O was different. Boy-O was strong and lean and his kiss could do tMngs for her that she had never even suspected.
"This afternoon I thought I'd never see you again," she said as she walked across the room to him.
"You're going to see a lot of me. I'm going to live here." He smiled and then he shoved his hand against her. He laughed at the dismay and the pleasure on her face.
"Kiss me, baby."
The next morning Boy-O decided to see Jed Crane on his own. He wanted to avoid any contact with the Jensens, wanted to avoid seeing Jeanni and accepting favors. He needed to make some money, and buy himself a suit to wear to the city. He'd decided to make it to a city after finishing his business in Swanik's Landing, but he didn't know which one. It didn't matter really. He would decide that when he set his feet on the highway and his thumb waved in the air.
At eleven A.M. he sauntered into Crane's grocery store.
"Cigarettes," he said, and slapped his money on the counter.
Jed Crane was a stringbean of a man. He looked Boy-O over suspiciously.
"You new here?"
"Name's Carter. Boy-O Carter."
"No fooling. You ain't the little kid belonged to Janey Carter, are you?"
"Uh-huH."
"And are you the one who's taking over Revere's house?"
"Uh-huh."
"No fooling."
"I heard you need a man on your farm."
"And how I do. The barn roof is leaking and the shutters are falling off their hinges, and if I decide to get myself some cows or something, I need to put up fences. T had a man to do all that but he spent all of his time ... well, never mind about that. You won't do neither."
"Why?"
"'Cause you won't and that's all. Why do I have to explain myself when I'm the one who's hiring?"
"Is that on account of your new wife?" Boy-O spat into the pickle barrel and watched to see if Jed Crane would say anything about it. Crane spat in that direction himself.
"Has nothing to do with my wife."
"Oh. Well, I was going to say that Sarah Revere keeps me so busy in that department that I'm looking for farm work to do a little exercise. How's a man supposed to keep in shape with a woman like Sarah on his neck?"
"She wear you out?"
"Keeps me up all night. Always whispering 'please honey' at my ear. I take care of her just to shut her up."
"No fooling. Well, then, Boy-O, I think you're the man for me. Wages are forty a week."
"Won't do it under seventy-five. That was your wife you were thinking of, eh? She must be a good one."
"Don't you mouth about my wife. Say anything about that Revere girl that you want but keep your mouth shut about my wife."
Boy-O smiled. All at once he understood about Crane and his problem. His wife must be one of those women who would be friendly with any man but that wasn't what upset Jed. That wasn't the action he minded, but the gossip. Boy-O smiled and lit himself a cigarette. He got directions from Jed and an advance on his first week's salary and then left the store.
If his first wonderful days in town were any indication, Swanik's Landing was riddled with worn-out men and hungry, hungry, women.
He'd have to walk to Crane's farm. Four miles. That would mean he'd be there about one, and that he'd only have three hours or so to spend looking over the situation before Crane started to close up the store and head home. Well, three hours was plenty of time. Tomorrow he'd start work.
The road out of town was quiet and peaceful and roasting in the sun. The countryside around Swanik's Landing was so beautiful. It was all Boy-O could do to keep from remembering how it had been when he was a kid, running in the fields, rolling in the grass. He stretched his body in the sun, and kept his head down and his feet going.
She was a city pig. Worse than that, she'd probably taken to the streets because she liked men so much she figured she might as well get paid. Boy-O almost burst out laughing at the sight of her. Jed Crane must have been drunk when he married her. He could have gotten her by snapping his fingers. A license wasn't necessary.
"Good morning honey." Her voice was thick with sleep. He guessed a neighboring farmhand had already been by this morning. "What do you want?"
"What are you going to give me?" Boy-O smiled and scratched the back of his head.
"I'll start off by offering you some breakfast." She giggled and swiveled her breasts from side to side. Her dyed red hair glinted metallically in the sunlight. She disappeared into the kitchen. Boy-O followed her. "You're awfully cute for a panhandler, honey," she said, pouring him a cup of coffee. She sat across from him at the table and rubbed her breasts along the edge. Carelessly she opened the top buttons on her dress, and ran her fingers over her skin. "Sure is warm, too warm out here. Was the air as warm where you came from, honey?"
"Your husband hired me to work on the place," Boy-O said. He grinned at her.
"I can't imagine why he did that. Jed is usually so worried about me, he doesn't let a decent looking man on the place. The last one we had was fat and fifty and Jed fired him out of jealousy. Why'd he hire you?"
"Isn't this your birthday?"
She stared blankly at him for a minute, then she got his point and guffawed loudly. She got up from the table and walked to him. "You're not like most of those country fellows. You're quick and I like that. What's your name?"
She had a nice body, big in all the right places. Boy-O wondered whether he would take some of the candy she was offering him. He didn't particularly like to fool around with chicks who were up for grabs.
Except for Margie, that sweet hustler he had known in L.A., all of his own women had been ladies.
"Boy-O."
"Boy-O. That's cute. I bet all the girls in town like you." She sighed enviously. "I wish Jed would take me into town sometimes. I get so bored on this old farm."
She ran her hands over Boy-O's chest. He'd opened his shirt on the road, to let the air to his sweating body. Her touch was heavy and insuating.
"Careful, you're a married lady," he said.
"My husband doesn't mind. He likes to have me fooling around. Can I sit on your knees?"
Boy-O sneered at her. "I thought you wanted me to sit on yours."
"Either way, honey." She reached out and squeezed him. And her breath began to catch in her throat. "Do you want me with you honey, in the barn, or do you want to go with me into the bedroom?"
Boy-O watched her slink to the stairs. Jed Crane had picked himself out a whopper. Of all the ways a man could pick to destroy himself, marriage to a dame like that was one of the quickest. He followed her up the stairs and into the bedroom. She began dropping her clothes the minute he walked into the room. Boy-O peeled off his shirt and watched her. She danced a little around the room to entice him and her bosom jiggled and bobbed as she moved. She was all soft flesh and curves. Quite a sight.
Boy-O walked over to the bed.
"Honey, take off your pants."
She lay on the bed, ready for him. He put his hand to her. She was warm with wanting him.
"That feels nice. You want me, huh? Take off your clothes." She reached out and started pulling on his belt buckle.
He unzipped his clothes and stepped out of them. She ran her hands along his legs, rhythmically caressing.
He laughed with pleasure. This was always good. Even with her this would be good.
"Hurry, hurry," she pleaded. "Please, don't make me wait any longer."
He climbed onto the bed. She was Mother Earth on a picnic. Her breasts received his kisses like a rainfall, and spread beneath his rough hands.
He could see the sweat standing out in beads on her forehead. He watched her eyes cloud with wanting him as he teased and played along her legs. Her nails dug at his back and he could feel .tiny rivulets of his blood run down his skin. Still he refused her, refused so that she would remember him.
He wasn't like the others. He was better. She would know that first.
Her arms curled around him and she pressed so hard against him, moved so excitedly that he held his breath and cursed.
"Baby, baby, now, now."
She looked like she was going to finish all by herself. She wanted him that bad.
"Do you love me?" he whispered to her ear.
She bit his shoulder feverishly and worked against him."
"You pig," he said, and took her. Boy-O found himself caught up by the rhythm and the frenzy.
She dug her nails at the sheet and laughed and cried and begged him. Their sweat bound them together. And then he burst into a thousand aching pieces.
"Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
"Why not," he said, climbing out of bed. "I'm finished." He pulled his pants on and reached across the bed for his shirt.
"But what about me? Don't leave me like this. What about me?"
"To hell with you." Boy-O walked out of the room and started down the stairs. "I was hired to fix the leak in the barn roof, honey. And that's all the fixing I'm about to do from now on."
He walked outside, slamming the screen door behind him.. Poor Crane would be dead before the year was out. He hadn't married a woman; he'd married a perpetual motion machine. Boy-O chuckled to himself. When Crane met her, he had probably been flattered, he thought to himself. Jed probably figured that she was that way because she loved him. Boy-O laughed. Well, he deserved everything he got.
Boy-O laughed again. He, tried to remember Crane from the old days. He'd always been skinny, and he'd never let Boy-O spit in the pickle barrel.
Boy-O rummaged around the barn and found some tools and some shingles. He dragged the ladder outside and climbed up on the roof, pulling the ladder after him, just in case Mrs. Crane should decide to make a pain of herself. He worked for two hours in the hot sun, feeling his body stretch with the exercise-stretch and harden.
Boy-O liked to feel his body, liked to be taut and alive. That was why he was so good in bed. Women instinctively sensed about him a physical awareness that turned them to jelly. And that was also why Boy-O rarely lived off women; that was a sure way to let yourself go soft. Unless they were rich enough to buy him a membership in a gym, or lived somewhere where he could do manual labor in posh surroundings.
When the sun cooled off a little, Boy-O decided to call it a day. He took the things back into the barn and pulled on his work shirt. His flesh rebelled at being covered. Mrs. Crane was watching him from the doorway of the house.
"Don't you bother coming back here tomorrow. I won't let you on the place, do you hear?"
"I'll be back to finish the barn. Don't get in my way or I'll change the pattern of your face. Believe that."
She turned and walked back into the house. She believed him.
Boy-O got a lift into town with a farmer from the neighborhood. He walked down the main drag into the drug store. "Hey," he called to Sarah behind the cosmetics counter. "Bring home some cigarettes. A couple of cartons."
She didn't blush, although she did send her eyes around the store .to see if all the customers were watching her. They were. Then she blushed.
"Hey," Boy-O shouted. "Hey."
He wasn't going to go until she answered him. She sensed that and attempted to smile and wave at him. She knew she was degrading herself in front of everyone in the store, but that didn't matter any more. A quick damnation was still better than having him stand there and shout for an eternity. He waved again and, flashing her one of his most brilliant smiles, disappeared around the corner.
She discovered she was jealous of his destination. It was all she could do to keep from closing the store and running after him. That was part of his plan, she supposed, to make her forget everything for the more immediate reality of his body and what he could give to her. It was all too much for poor Sarah's brain. She gave up thinking about him and went to hide from the stares in the drug department.
Boy-O continued his jaunt down Main Street. The news that Janey Carter's boy had returned and was shacking up with Sam Revere's girl apparently had spread all over town by now. Women stepped aside to let him pass on the streets, and their jealousy of Sarah made them redouble their whispering after he'd passed.
"Hello, Stephen."
"Mrs. Jensen. How're you? Out shopping? Can I carry groceries for you?"
"No thanks, I brought Jeanni along today in case I should need any help. "Hello, Boy-O."
"Jeanni." He searched her face for a trace of sarcasm but it was as if nothing had ever happened between them. She looked more beautiful than ever today. Her dress was simple and clung in all the right places.
"Stephen, I want to talk to you."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Jeanni, go get the car. You're not to listen to this."
Jeanni obliged her mother, again too quickly. Boy-O wondered how Mrs. Jensen could be blind to the fact that Jeanni wasn't a naive Jeanni any longer.
"Stephen, what are you doing to the Revere girl?"
"Pardon?"
"Don't beg my pardon, you know very well what I mean. The whole town is buzzing about your staying there last night. Stephen, that wasn't very considerate of you."
"I didn't mean to be considerate."
"You could have stayed with us if you had nowhere to go and no money or anything. There was no need to stay there. Now, I know you're a nice boy, Stephen, and I know all that mean gossip is just empty talk, but you must realize that people are that way. Most of them."
"Mrs. Jensen, you are a dear lady and I am very fond of you but even you must be able to see that I am not a nice boy, just as I'm not Stephen. I'm Boy-O Carter and I don't give a damn for any talk in this town and I don't give a damn about this town and I especially don't give a damn about Sarah Revere or her reputation."
"Stephen!"
"Don't be shocked, ma'am. Don't pretend. I know you're unshockable. You've had to be. Now, I don't want to be rude, but I am going to walk away from you and protect your reputation." Boy-O smiled and turned sharply, walking easily away from his last friend in town.
The yellow convertible pulled up alongside him, and Mrs. Jensen stuck her head out from behind bags of groceries. "Stephen, is there anything I can do for you?"
"Yes ma'am. Is my father practicing in his father's office or did he move to another town?"
"Your father? What do you mean?"
"My mother told me who he is. I've always known. Ma and me had secrets. I just want him to know that I know. Can you tell me where the old man is living?"
"Stephen, let dead dogs stay that way."
"Well never mind, Mrs. Jensen. I'll ask Sarah. She'll tell me. Good-bye."
As Boy-O walked away he heard Jeanni say, "He's worthless, Ma. Leave him be."
"No he's not, dear," Mrs. Jensen answered. "But it looks like he'll make himself worthless if he keeps on this way."