Chapter 4
Cindy Drucker thought about how it had once been, many years ago, when her mother had been living with them. Her step father had seemed much happier then. He talked a lot about the future, about what the three of them would do together.
Once they had lived in San Francisco for a time. She remembered vaguely her mother taking her down to the ocean to see the Golden Gate Bridge and all the boats and ships that sailed like clouds through the blue waters.
They had moved because Fred Drucker got himself in some kind of trouble. Cindy didn't know what the trouble was, but the three of them left town suddenly and went East-toward New York City. The car broke down in Hurley, Texas, and they were broke. Fred rented a small house and got a job as hotel clerk in the town's only hotel. It was a small town, hot and dusty, and Cindy didn't like it. The nearest school was miles away and a long hot ride on a bus. Cindy lost interest and quit when she reached sixteen.
"We ain't staying here forever," Fred Drucker promised. "Someday, when we've got enough money, we're going to New York."
Finally Mamie Drucker got tired of waiting. One day, without a word to anyone, she left Texas with another man who was heading for Florida and the coast. She was never heard from again.
Rosalie West had run away to Miami two years ago. Cindy wished she'd gone along with her. Life with Fred Drucker was getting more and more unpleasant and the looks he gave her as his eyes roamed over her body made her increasingly nervous.
She had to get out-before it was too late!
She wanted to go out with boys, have them make love to her if and when she wanted it, and perhaps get married one day if she found the right person. Living with her stepfather, she knew this was impossible.
Rosalie West had written her once from Miami, but Fred Drucker had found the letter and torn it up in a fury.
"Don't let me catch you sending letters to that slut!" he warned, "or I'll really paddle your behind."
Cindy had managed to fish the letter out of the trash and keep the address on the outside of the envelope, just in case. Rosalie had saved enough money to take a bus to Miami, and she said it was like a paradise, with warm weather and palm trees and the ocean. She was sharing a small apartment with a girl named Flo Stanley, and there was probably enough room there for a third girl.
Cindy's eyes misted as she thought about it. It would be like old times, seeing Rosalie again. Besides, her mother was out there.
She would like very much to see her mother again. Mamie Drucker had never written-unless Fred Drucker intercepted the letter-but Cindy bore the woman no ill will. She remembered her as a sweet, kind, generous person filled with the joy of living, and it was understandable why she had run away. Fred Drucker had promised a lot of things and delivered very few.
Cindy went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the tub. She wanted to get away as soon as she could, but she must make her plans carefully. If her stepfather ever knew what she was planning, who knows what he would do to her. Besides, she had a long way to go to get to Florida and very little money.
She took off her bra and panties and stood in front of the full length door mirror gazing at herself. She was no Rosalie West when it came to breasts, but her bosom was firm and smooth, standing out with no need of bra. The stomach was flat and the waist narrow, the hips flaring. Her legs were long graceful curves that made many a male turn around for a second look.
She stood there, smiling, running her hands along her body, remembering how comforting Joey's hands had been-comforting and exciting. Suddenly, the front door opened, and she froze in panic. She paused, holding her breath, listening as she heard her stepfather's footsteps advancing toward the bathroom. Quickly, she reached out and latched the lock.
He paused outside the door. "Cindy?" The water was splashing into the tub from the faucet.
"Cindy?" he said again. The doorknob turned slowly. "Are you in there?"
"I'm taking a bath," she said.
He hesitated. "Can I come in for a minute?"
She felt cold at the thought of letting him in to see her. "I can't. I'm in the tub. I'll be through in a few minutes."
He hesitated again. "All right," he said.
He moved away. She heard the squeak of springs from the living room couch. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stepped into the tub, sat down and let the warm water cover her. The water was like a soft caress upon her skin, along her legs and thighs and breasts, and she thought of the boy, Joey Stanford, who had made love to her.
But she knew she should feel ashamed of what she'd done, but was only a pleasant memory with her. They'd met in the coffee shop adjoining the Hurley Hotel. She thought he was very god looking, with his long blonde hair and blue eyes, and when he asked her to go with him for a ride, she couldn't refuse.
And later, when her passions took over, she discovered she couldn't refuse him anything .
.
"Cindy?" Her stepfather again, outside the bathroom door. "What say we go over to the coffee shop and eat tonight?"
"All right," she said. "I'll be right out."
"It's nearly five o'clock now. I've got to get to work by six."
She soaped herself and rinsed, trying not to think of Joey. People came and went in Hurley. Few ever stayed. Perhaps Joey had already gone back to Miami, where he probably wouldn't ever think of her again.
She stepped out of the tub and dried herself with a long towel, rubbing her body briskly. She wished she'd had the presence of mind to bring fresh underwear into the bathroom with her. She wrapped the towel around her and opened the door. The curtains separating the bedrom from the living room were open, and Fred Drucker, sitting on the couch, looked up and smiled at her.
"Don't mind me," he said, picking up a magazine from a nearby rack, "just go ahead and get yourself ready."
Cindy nodded. She hated to dress in front of him, but it seemed there was no choice. She walked to the chest of drawers and dropped the towel in order to search for fresh underwear. She was conscious of his eyes on her, but she didn't look back at him. If she looked, she knew she'd scream at the raw hunger of his gaze.
"I didn't realize it was so late," she said, apologetically.
She dressed hurriedly, pulling on her panties and bra, wriggling into her sweater and blue jeans.
"Actually, we've got plenty of time," he said. "No need to rush."
But she was already dressed.
A moment later they walked together along the dusty street. The heat around them was oppressive.
I've get to get out of here, Cindy thought, before it's too late.
In the sky above them a lonely eagle moved slowly across the grey sky. A car roared past them on the highway, not stopping, heading East. The sun was low on the horizon. In a few hours the darkness would come, the few blocks of the downtown area would light up with eager neon, and The Prairie Flower Saloon would open its doors.
They reached the coffeeshop adjacent to the Hurley Hotel, where they sat in a booth and ate hamburgers and drank milkshakes.
"About this boy you were out with," Fred Drucker began.
"He was very nice," Cindy said quickly, heading him off.
"I know I acted rough with you, Cindy," he said, apologetically. "But I was just looking out for your own good. Since your mother ran away I've had to be both mother and father to you."
"I understand," Cindy said. "I just wanted to know whether this boy was a real gentleman or not." He forced a grin. "I know you wouldn't do anything bad, anything to make your father regret having sacrificed all these years for you. But sometimes a boy goes out with a girl and he wants to feel her up; you know, put his hand up under her dress and things like that. You've got to be very careful, especially if you don't know the boy."
"I'll be careful," Cindy promised. "Good girl," Fred Drucker said, squeezing her leg under the table.
Cindy forced a smile and looked up into the grinning face of Joey Stanford seated at the counter, half turned to face her. She gasped.
"Something wrong?" her father said.
She looked away quickly, so her stepfather's gaze wouldn't follow hers to the blond youth. "No," she said. "Your touch startled me."
"Oh," he said, removing his hand a little self-consciously.
She glanced toward the counter at Joey, and she felt her heart pounding wildly at the mere sight of him. She was glad he hadn't gone back to Florida.
Fred Drucker glanced at his wristwatch. "Well, I've got to get to work. You take your time here, but go right home afterward. Okay? I'll stop by at my break later."
"All right," she said. "I've got some things to do." Like packing to get out of this town and away from you, she thought.
He went up to pay the cashier, then waved and left to go to his job as desk clerk at the Hurley Hotel. Cindy looked up at the counter to see Joey sliding off the stool.
Quickly she shook her head no and nodded outside. He gave her a tight smile and returned to his perch.
Cindy finished the last of her malt and got up, not looking at him. She walked into the street and past the hotel. Her stepfather was standing just inside the glass doors looking out at her. She waved to him and he waved back. She walked steadily down the street and didn't pause until she had turned a corner.
A moment later Joey caught up with her. "Hi," he said. "Can I walk you home?"
"Sure," she said, glad he wanted to. "I didn't mean to be anti-social in there, but
"But your stepfather was with you and there was no point in asking for trouble," he finished.
Impulsively, she took his hand and squeezed it, grateful for his understanding.
"When are you leaving?" she asked.
"I thought I'd get an early start tomorrow morning," he said. "I was hoping I could see you tonight."
She hesitated, not looking at him as they walked along. "Can you leave tonight?"
He stared at her, puzzled. "I suppose I could." His face turned angry. "You mean you don't want to see me tonight?"
"I mean," she said, "that I want you to take me to Florida with you!"
They paused in front of her house. "You ... you want me to take you to Florida with me?" he repeated incredulously. "But...."
She laughed at his sudden embarassment. "Oh I don't mean for marriage or anything like that. I want to go there to see a friend of mine." She thought of her mother, and added, "Two friends of mine, in fact."
He rubbed his chin. "Gee, I don't know, Cindy...."
"I don't have much money," she said, "but...."
"It's not that," he said. "But what about your stepfather?"
"I'll leave him a note."
He looked at her, his gaze sweeping her body. "I don't know. I'd like to, but ... but suppose your father notifies the police and we're picked up. I could go to jail."
"He doesn't even know you, and I won't tell him where I'm going," she persisted. "Please. Besides, my mother is in Florida. I want to live with her."
He made his mind up. "All right. When can you be ready?"
"In an hour," she said. She put her arms around him and kissed him strongly on the lips. "Thanks, Joey."....
"My pleasure," he said, grinning at her. "I'll pick you up in an hour, then."
He walked away and out of sight. Cindy went inside the house, excitedly. At last, she was getting out of Hurley, going off to Florida in pursuit of adventure-and her mother.
"My pleasure," he'd said. Well, they'd probably stop at a motel to rest before continuing their journey in the morning. Cindy was grateful to Joey for taking her away from all the bad memories contained in this house and this town. She would make sure that it would indeed be his pleasure, when they were together in the motel bed snuggling up to each other. She was sure it would be her pleasure, too.