Chapter 10
Three glasses of beer later, I dialed and the phone finally rang. It rang a long time, so long I was afraid I had just missed whoever had talked so long.
I recognized Jamie's "Hello," but the voice was strained.
"Jamie, how are you? This is Carl. Are you all right? Christ, I can't wait to see you." I was nearly babbling, I was so happy to be talking to her.
Her flat, unenthusiastic words were chilling. "Hello, Carl," she said. "So you didn't get my letter saying that I'd changed my mind and asking you not to come?"
"No, I didn't get that one," I said. "But I'd have come anyway. How are you, baby? You sound tired. What are you doing and where have you been? I've been here for days."
"Yes, I know," she said. "Well, I'm truly sorry I sent you that stupid thing and dragged you thousands of miles on a wild goose chase."
"What in hell do you mean?" I asked. 'Talking on the phone is no good. I want to see you. Can I come out? How about something to drink? You sound as though you could use it."
"Oh, not now, Carl," she said quickly. There was a pause, "I just can't see you today. We got back late last night, and I've got, well, obligations, and you'll be busy.. . . "
"I'll be busy?" I asked. "What do you mean? I won't be doing a thing but worrying about you. Surely you can see me for a few minutes. I can be out there in ten minutes."
"No!" the word was spit out in a way that sent a thin sliver of ice racing over my spine. "No." Softer this time. "I simply can't see you today or tonight, Carl. But listen, tomorrow we can get together, and I can try to explain things and apologize for bringing you all the way down here. But really, I, well, there is simply something I have to do today and tonight."
"Jamie, how are you? Are you all right? Where have you been? And how is your father? Is he ill? Dammit, I've a good mind to come out there, Jamie."
"So help me, I'll never speak to you again if you do, Carl. Oh listen, I'm acting terribly, but I haven't been feeling well, and daddy has been kind of in bad shape. Oh, Carl, of course I want to see you, darling. Tomorrow, I'll feel better and be rested, and all, and it will be so much better."
"Jamie, what did you mean I'd be busy?"
"Oh, did I say that? I just mean, you probably already have some kind of plans. Peggy Sue mentioned some of the girls had been showing you around and all."
"What else did Peggy Sue say?" I snapped.
"What else would she say, Carl?" she asked.
Easy, I warned myself. "Okay, Jamie, we'll do it your way and wait until tomorrow. What time? What time? How about lunch?"
"Well, all right, lunch would be a good time to talk. How about one o'clock? I can meet you, on, say in the square. You're in the hotel there, aren't you?"
"I'll pick you up."
"All right, if you want to, Carl."
"I want to, Jamie. I want very much to see you."
There was a long pause, and I thought for a moment she had turned away from the phone and started crying. Her voice was a little thin and rasping when she spoke again.
"I can't talk any more, Carl.
She hung up, and I held the phone a half minute, my heart pounding, before putting the receiver down.
With this glass of beer, I had a double shot of Old Forester, but it did little to calm me.
I was to restless to sit in a bar, so I had one more quick beer, then walked into the furnace of an afternoon and immediately regretted the bourbon, which was cloying in my throat and. feeling like a lead shot in my stomach.
I hurried to the hotel and saw no sign of Kerry's car. I walked only a half block, but I was soaked in sweat and my throat was drawn dry with thirst. I felt weary and dirty and thought of a cold vodka and tonic and a long, hot shower.
I had just turned the key in my lock when the phone started ringing. I rushed inside and jerked the phone off the hook, hoping to hear Jamie's voice.
"Hello, Carl, this is Emily Ann."
"Oh, hello," I mumbled and sat down on the bed and pulled off my shirt
"Carl, I have to see you right away," she said."
'I'm sorry, baby, but Jamie's back, and the games are over," I said. "The other girls will just have to miss their turns. Or do you want to tear off a quick one this afternoon?"
"You are such a conceited, naive idiot at times," she said. "Well, it's up to you. I had something to tell you, something important. But I'm not going to be insulted or get into a stupid argument."
I hesitated. But what if she were going to tell me something important? Perhaps she had had a change of heart. . .
"Well. . . " Her voice was impatient.
"Okay. Where and when? I was just going to take a shower. Name someplace and I'll be there in an hour."
She named a cocktail lounge on the highway to the Gulf, and said she'd wait for me on the terrace there.
I had a vodka and tonic sent up from the bar, and took the hot shower, which made me feel better, but did little to relax me. And in a few minutes, I was back out in the broiling sun.
The place was further south than I had realized, and I was late getting there. It was a beautiful drive, and I admired the carefully spaced flowering bushes the Blue Bell Garden Club was worried about.
Emily Ann was sitting on a palm-tree shaded terrace that looked out onto a broad stretch of hulking cypress trees growing in a lily covered lake. She was stunning in a soft blue outfit, short skirt and low-cut blouse from which her breasts nearly spilled-the cleavage was fantastic and I went warm just thinking of making love there in the hot, sweaty crevice between the breasts.
She wore huge, round shades and was sipping a tall drink with shaved ice through a red and white striped straw. The glass was filled with orange wedges and cherries.
'i was afraid you got lost," she said, as I sat down. "Or that you decided not to come."
"Took me longer to get down here than I thought," I said. "Why did you pick a place so-far away?"
"Well, I didn't want anyone to see us together," she said.
"Why not? Half of Harrisville saw us in that restaurant," I said.
"I mean I didn't want the girls to know I was meeting you," she said. "First of all, promise me you won't tell them about his,"
"Sure, Emily Ann, I'll promise, of course. But it's not-likely I'll see any of them again."
Her laugh was harsh. "It's hardly-likely you won't," she said, and sipped her drink.
"No more turns," I said firmly. "That's very-likely. And what is this? A nice girl like you actually having a drink, and not even with the rationalization of an electrocution-party? Or is that lemonade?"
She snatched the shades off and her blue eyes burned into mine. "You listen to me, Carl," she said. "Either you stop trying to hurt me, stop picking on me and being arrogant and snotty like that, or so help me I'll walk away and you won't see me again. You'll see some of the others, believe me, darling, but not me. Now, is that clear? You make up your mind right this instant. I'm taking a real chance just seeing you like this."
Her voice was rising and her face was flushed with anger. I knew I was being a bastard talking to her like that, and in any sense, it was stupid before I found out what she wanted to tell me. I also realized that in some ways I was getting to like Emily Ann-although the realization surprised me.
A waiter came over, and I ordered a vodka and tonic. "Do you want another drink?" I asked.
She nodded. "A Singapore Sling," she said, softly, and put her shades on.
I waited for the waiter to leave. Then I leaned closer to her. "You're right, I'm acting like a bastard, Emily Ann. But you have to realize what I've been going through."
She smiled. "How is your face? Here let me see? Does it hurt much?"
She gently touched my cheek. "Oh, it's not too bad," she said. "It's not too noticeable."
"The pain comes and goes," I said, and shrugged. "I've had worse. Tomorrow, you won't be able to see it."
The waiter brought our drinks. I relaxed back in my chair and took a deep swallow. Emily Ann sucked out the last of her first drink, and started on her second.
"I do drink a little sometimes," she said, in a soft, confessional tone. "My secret vice." Then she laughed "Or one of them, anyhow. But never more than two Singapore Slings."
"Listen, even for a good drinker, those things are lethal," I said, and stared at her breasts as she leaned to sip from the straw. The breasts fell forward-dangerously forward-and for an instant I thought they might fall out of the dress.
She caught my intense stare and shook her head as she leaned back. "Today is strictly business," she said. "What I wanted to tell you was that since I saw you last might, a couple of things have changed drastically. I know you won't leave until you see Jamie, of course. But, Carl, when you see her, then you must leave. You must get out of Harrisville quickly."
"Slow down," I said. "Now what in hell has changed so abruptly, and why must I run away?"
She sighed and looked out at a stork standing in the shallow water. She started to sip her drink, then checked herself and looked over at me.
"Trust you?" I said. "Oh, come on, baby. There's no reason on earth for me to trust you, now is there?"
She nodded. "True. There's no reason for you to trust me. So perhaps my warning you is useless. But I had to try. I don't want to see you get hurt, Carl. I'm not like some of the others. I'll do what has to be done if people get hurt, and hurt very badly, I don't even mind that. But needless infliction of pain isn't valid with me. I like you and you'll get hurt if you don't get out of here."
I drained the drink and leaned forward again. "What is all this abstract talk about pain and hurting? What are you majoring in at the University?"
"Philosophy," she said, and couldn't suppress a smile. "I'm the bookworm of our group."
"You look like anything but a philosopher Ann, who's your favorite author?" I asked.
"I think Nietzsche comes closest to what I believe," she said. "Though some of his beliefs I disagree with, of course."
"Nietzsche," I said. "It figures. The superman. You and the other vestal virgins are from such old, aristocratic, pure families that you consider yourselves a group apart, a privileged group of girls who are so superior that nothing you do is wrong, no matter what it is."
"Why, Carl, that states it pretty well," she said. "Though I believe with this superiority goes a great responsibility."
"Okay, forget the philosophy and let's get back to stark reality, Emily Ann," I said. "Now obviously I'm not going to believe your warning unless you tell me what's happening."
"Well, that's up to you, Carl," she said, and took a long, slurping sip of her Singapore Sling. "I really do like you and I sincerely wish you'd see Jamie and leave Harrisville. At least I've tried to warn you."
Emily Ann, it's not hard for me to figure out that what came up were the return of Jamie and her father and the newsbreak on the freeway interchange," I said. "Even last night I could tell you were lying about not knowing about the freeway thing."
She stood up abruptly, her breasts bouncing a little in a way that made me wish we were alone. I stood up, too.
"I've got to run," she said. "Please don't devour me with your eyes that way. I said today was strictly business."
"And philosophy," I said and she smiled.
"Carl, take care of yourself," she said, as she pecked at my cheek and turned. Her breasts brushed my arm and I went warm and sucked in my breath.
Then she stopped. "And Carl, you may not go out with Sandy and June. That's up to you. But don't cross Millie. She's a dear sweet friend, but if she wants her turn, give it to her. And exactly the way she tells you. If you don't, it will be Jamie who will have to pay. Goodbye now, and take care of yourself. And try to trust me just a little bit, darling."
And so she left, her powder-blue dress hugging her slim body, her thin, tanned legs sleek in stockings. I sat down and ordered a drink, and saw the stork flying off as my mind was flooded with confusing and contradictory thoughts.
I got a little drunk out there on the terrace and when I drove back to town, the dominant thought that emerged was: Tomorrow at lunch you see Jamie. Don't do anything till then.
And perhaps I wouldn't have, despite Emily Ann's hazy warning. But when I stepped into the hotel, a sealed envelope was handed to me with the key. I tore it open.
The note was typed: I must talk to you. Please meet me at seven tonight at the corner of Elm and 34th. Wait in you car there.
There was no signature.
"When did you get this?" I asked the clerk. "Who brought it?"
"About half an hour ago," he said. "An old Negro man brought it in and said it was important."
"Okay, thanks," I said and walked wearily up to my room.
I wanted to hope the note was from Jamie. I knew somehow it was not. But in any case I dared not fail to show up. I lay down, after leaving a call for six o'clock.
I got there at five minutes before seven and waited fifteen minutes. The street was near the edge of town, and there were few houses and few street lights. I had just decided to wait another five minutes when I saw headlights in the rearview mirror.
The car was coming very slowly. Then it stopped for a moment. It moved even slower when it approached and pulled up beside me. For an instant I couldn't see who was at the wheel, but she leaned over and opened the door and the light caught her face. It was Millie Perkins.
"Come on, hurry, get in," she said.
I got into her car and the wheels squealed as she drove off. The car was filled with a provocative perfume, and Millie had on a red blouse which hugged her breasts and the shortest, tightest pair of red shorts I had ever seen on a woman.
"I've only got a few minutes," she said. "Something came up, so we'll have to get together tomorrow night, Carl."
"Now, wait a minute, what in hell did you want to talk to me about, Millie?" I asked.
"Don't be stupid," she said. "I just had to be careful what I said in the note. You know what I want."
'There was no doubt in my mind exactly what she wanted from me but I was going to be more than just casually cautious now.
"You want your turn with me," I said. "Tell me what is your peculiar sex kick, outside of sending men to the electric chair?"
"I assume that was meant to make me angry," she said, matter-of-factly. "Say what you want, Carl. I don't care. And I won't get angry. And I won't discuss the rape. Tomorrow night, after a while, things will be different."
"How will things be different, Millie?"
"That would spoil the fun, to tell you," she said. "I had really wanted to see you tonight. But I have to be somewhere in about ten minutes."
She turned the corner on two wheels, drove quickly down a short block, and turned sharply around another corner. I realized she was taking me back to my car.
"Look, Millie, now that Jamie's back, things are different," I said. But I said it without conviction because I remembered Emily Ann's warning about Millie and I was well ready to believe it.
"Then you don't want me?" she asked, and turned again and slowed down. My car was in the next block.
"Want you how, Millie?" I asked. "To make love to you? Maybe that way. What is your sex game? Look, Millie, you can't blame me for being wary, with the rape thing and all."
"I can blame you for anything I want to," she said. "Actually, you're afraid that you can't handle me sexually."
"Handle you how, Millie? I don't know even now what in hell you want-what in the hell your sexual quirk is."
She stopped beside my car, and cut out the lights, but left the motor running.
"Give me your hand, please," she said rather sternly.
I hesitated, and she leaned over and took my hand firmly, while she slid a few inches closer. She put the hand on her thigh, and at the touch of her warm, smooth, intimate skin I went warm and there was a faint stirring between my thighs.
"Do you like this?" she asked and when my breath poured in and out quickly I inhaled the deep, arousing perfume, and through it the smell of her hair, which had obviously just been washed and smelled fresh and clean.
"Very intimate and very soft," I said, but my heavy breathing belied my attempt at casualness.
Then she spread her thighs wide and slid my finger up the soft flesh slightly moist now with sweat. My finger brushed several little ridges and she held the fingers there.
"What do you think those are?" she asked, and leaned a bit closer to me, so that I could see the beautiful, exquisite features of her doll-face.
"I don't know," I said.
"They're tooth marks," she said, and tugged my hand away and slid back under the wheel.
I played the game, and my fast breathing and pumping heart told me I wanted to play. "Whose?" I asked. "Anyone I know?"
"Maybe," she said. "Now out you go or I'll be late."
I climbed from the car, and cursed myself for the bulge in my pants and the way my face was blazing. I slammed the door so hard the car rocked, and then cursed myself again for letting her know I was aroused and upset.
"Carl," she said, in barely a whisper.
I bent down.
"Tomorrow night at seven here," she whispered. "Please be here, Carl. And Carl, I just love big, strong, confident men like you. The stronger and more independent the better. But, Carl. Please don't lose control of yourself and bite me, like somebody's big, strong daddy did. That makes me so angry it's frightening."
I barely jumped back in time as she pumped down on the accelerator and the car shot away, the tires screeching.
"Christ," I muttered as I watched her taillights disappearing. I stood there three or four minutes before I drove slowly off.