Chapter 3
Brent awoke to the sound of running water. As he rolled over he found himself alone in the center of the rumpled bed. For an instant he forgot where he was. His penis ached and then he remembered. He rolled from the bed and discovered his genitals were crusted with a sticky mess.
"You awake, honey?" A voice called from the bathroom.
"Yes, I think so. What time is it?"
"My watch's on the dresser. Come in here and give me a hand with my douche, will you?"
Yawning, Brent swept his hair back from his face and padded nude into the bathroom. She was sitting on the lid of the commode with a towel draped across her thighs. She had removed a folded syringe from its case and a bottle of powder sat on the edge of the basin.
"Measure me out one level capful of that powder, will you please."
She let the towel fall away as she got up to fill the bag with warm water. She held it out to him and he poured the powder into the bag. She reinserted the tube and began to shake the mixture together. He enjoyed watching her breasts fly about as she shook.
She raised the lid and seated herself upon the open commode. She handed him the bag and carefully began to insert the plastic nozzle between her thighs. "Squeeze the bag," she told him.
Brent clasped the warm bag to his chest and wrapped his arms about it. He heard her sigh as he squeezed the bag to himself and sent the warm fluid deep into her. He heard it running out again.
"I oughta do like the Russians do when they brainwash their women. Lay the bag on the floor and jump on it." They both started to laugh. Finally she finished her task.
"What time is it?"
"I forgot to look." He drew his eyes from her nude form and returned to the bedroom. He glanced at the expensive watch and let out a moan. "Damn, it's almost seven. St. John'll go into orbit if I ain't got the station open by the time he gets there."
"Whatta you mean? I didn't know it was your responsibility to have the station open." She came in, patting her pubic area with a soft towel.
Brent snatched up his trousers and threw them at her. "See if you can get that stuff off my pants." He shook out his shirt and drew it on as she returned to the bathroom. She took a damp cloth and wiped at the stains around the fly. She came back and handed them to him just as he finished pulling on his shoes.
"Get your clothes on quick, you gotta run me over to the station." He pulled on his pants and watched her quickly gather some fresh underwear from a drawer. She paused in the act of settling her breasts into the cups, of her brassiere and glanced at him.
"Oh hell, just give me a kiss and take the damn car. Everything I'll need is within walking distance. I can eat down the boulevard."
He gave her a quick kiss and took the keys she held for him. "I'll bring the car back as soon as I can go home and change clothes after work."
He drove quickly to the station and had it open for business scant minutes before the first customer arrived for gas. Right on the dot of seven-thirty Buster St. John's big car pulled in and parked beside the convertible. Brent saw him glancing at the car before he walked into the station office. "Car from Texas." He raised his eyebrows in question.
"Old friend of my family's. I brought it down for a slight adjustment when I'm off for lunch."
"Looks like one I saw yesterday," he said suspiciously.
"When?" Brent asked innocently.
"You remember? You serviced the car yourself. Young girl in sunglasses."
"Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot. It looks like the same car, don't it?" Brent turned to look at the car.
"Ah, forget it," St. John waved his hand. "Chuck gonna bring in that car for the transmission job?"
"He's supposed to. Maybe he'll go by and pick it up on the way in."
Chuck did just that. A car with a noisy transmission turned into the drive and Brent hurried to raise the huge overhead door as it came toward him. The boy pulled the car into the station and killed the motor.
"Ain't it a bitch?" He said as he got out. "Sounds like it's about to tear itself apart."
Brent turned to go put on his coveralls. "Might as well get busy on it. The sooner we start, the sooner we'll finish." They both put on their coveralls and returned to the car. It took most of the day to get the transmission out and both were covered with grease and fluids. The telephone rang.
Out of the corner of his eye, Brent saw St. John pick up the receiver and put it to his ear. He glanced in his direction and let the receiver dangle. He came into the service area.
"All right, Brent," he said and his voice was annoyed. "It's for you. A funny talking dame with a voice as sexy as hell. If it's business, okay. But if it's monkey business cut 'er off quick. I can't afford to pay you to line up fresh pussy on my 'phone."
"Sure, Buster. I'm getting tired of these dizzy dames calling all the time too. Maybe it's some dame out of gas somewhere."
"Oh sure, out of gas in her bedroom, and she wants you to bring your hose and fill 'er up. Go see what she wants."
He wiped his hands and went into the office to pick up the dangling receiver. "Hello?"
'"Alio, Bre-ent." The voice was low and heavily accented.
"Who is this?" Brent felt a growing excitement.
"This is Renee. I'm the Clinton's maid."
"How did you find my 'phone number? In fact, how did you find out my name?"
"That is of no matter. When Renee desires to know something she finds out, no?" She laughed softly. "Can you come over tonight?"
"Why doesn't Susan make her own calls? Is she sick?"
"Ah, but I am not calling for Miss Susan. I am calling for Reene herself."
Brent glanced at St. John and saw that he was becoming impatient. "What's this all about, what do you want?"
"I would like to talk with you about your visit with Miss Susan yesterday while she was all alone."
Brent felt his neck becoming warm. "What's wrong with a guy going to see his girl?"
"Oh, I have no objections myself. But the master Clinton would be very angry if he should know." She let the threat hang.
"And I suppose you'll tell him?"
"Of course not, Bre-ent, if you come over tonight."
"What do you think Susan would do if she saw me visiting her maid?"
"Do not worry, lover. No one will be here but Renee. My apartment is over the garage. Come up the side steps. Renee will be waiting."
"You mean the whole family will be gone? How do you know?"
"Trust Renee. No one will be here to disturb you until the morning. A relative of the Clinton's has passed away and they will all be gone. Renee will be alone and she does not like to be alone. Come and Renee will make you happy." The phone clicked in his ear as she hung up.
Brent noticed that St. John had moved within hearing distance so he said into the dead line, "All right, if it's something I fixed
I'll correct it this afternoon on my own time. Will that be all right?"
"Fine," he added, after a pause. "I'll be right by after I'm off." He hung up and pretended frustration. "The old gal says the timing's all messed up. Guess I'd better run out and fix it after work."
He grinned at St. John's puzzled expression and went back to slide under the car. Chuck leaned close. "Buster was snooping."
"I know. I gave him an earful."
"Who was it?"
"Just an old girlfriend. Nothing important."
"When you gonna fix me up?"
Brent glanced at him with pity. "I'll try to fix you with a date for Friday night, okay?"
"Great, you're my buddy. I'd do the same for you." Chuck began to rub his greasy hands together in anticipation. "I can't wait to get into a nice tight pussy."
"Don't try to push her on the first date or you'll scare her off like you did Francis."
"Don't worry, next time I'll play it cool."
"Yeah, that'll be the day when good old horny Chuck can keep his cool with a hot cunt nearby." They both laughed.
At five Brent went into the stockroom to hang up his coveralls. He waved to Chuck and winked at Buster as he walked out. They watched him get into the green convertible and roar away. "That Brent is one hell of a lucky stud," Chuck growled.
Brent found the house empty, as it usually was when he got home. He threw his soiled shorts into the dirty clothes hamper and peeled off his pants and shirt. He padded nude into the hall and sat down beside the telephone. Picking up the receiver he dialed the information operator's number. "Connect me to the Bluffside Motel, please," he told the girl.
"Just a moment."
There was a click and a hum, then another click. "Bluffside Motel."
"Can you connect me to the room of a Miss Mary Ann Davidson?"
"Do you know the number?"
"No, this is the first time I've tried to contact her."
"Just a moment, I'll check the guest index."
After a long pause he heard a call signal. There was no answer. Again the voice came. "There is no answer in her room. Would you care to leave a message?"
"Just tell Miss Davidson her car is ready and will be delivered tomorrow." He hung up and went into the bathroom to shower and shave. He wondered where Mary Ann was. Had she picked up someone else? He thought of the lovely little French maid and dressed quickly.
It was eight o'clock when he pulled into the familiar drive and parked on the concrete apron between the main house and garage. There were no lights in the big house but he saw light in the window over the garage. He thought he saw a shadow move away from that window.
Renee had seen the car pull to a stop and the young man get out. She was dressed in a soft clinging body stocking that molded itself to her lovely form. Her nipples were clearly outlined beneath the thin material. She checked herself in the mirror and nodded her satisfaction at the reflection that smiled back at her.
She heard Brent on the steps and her heart began to pound. Again she saw the master's livid face as he ordered her out of the house. If this handsome young man did not accept her she would ... she let the rest of her thoughts trail away as he knocked on the door. She ran to open it.
Immediately she felt better when she saw the look on his face as his eyes drank in the vision of her in the revealing stocking. He had the look of a hungry man who has arrived at a banquet.
Finally he found his voice and stammered, "Renee?"
"Ah yes, Bre-ent. Won't you come in? Renee has been waiting for you."
"I don't understand-" he began, but her cool hand covered his lips gently.
"Do not talk, let Renee talk. I tell you all. Yesterday the Madame Clinton go to her silly card game and leave the Mistress Susan alone. I saw you come and enter the house. I was fearful you would harm the mistress so I follow you. I catch you two together in an embrace of passion. I do not tell but Renee is a woman who also desires the embrace of Bre-ent." She came closer to him. "Do you like Renee?" Her fragrance disturbed him.
"Baby-" His voice caught and he had to clear his throat. "Honey, a man would have to be sick in the head not to appreciate you. You're the prettiest..." He let the rest trail away.
"Yes?" She prompted, "you like Renee, you like what you see? You are pleased with Renee?"
"You're the sexiest piece I ever saw in that damn outfit."
"Piece of what?" Her perplexed frown drew a laugh from him and to his surprise she became angry. Her eyes flashed. "You laugh at Renee?" She hissed.
"Honey, I always laugh when I am pleased and I am very pleased with you. Come here."
She hesitated, then with a slow smile she flowed into his arms. "Hold Renee tightly," she said huskily. "Hold Renee so tight you can, as you say, feel her crack."
Brent chuckled inwardly at her attempt to joke as he took her into his arms. Her lips were soft and sweet, her hands demanding as their tongues explored each other's mouth.
His hands at her back found the zipper and his fingers fumbled at the tab to draw it down. She pushed him away with a low laugh. "No, no, you naughty man. You have already seen what Renee has to give, and now Renee wants to see what you have."
"You've already seen, you little devil. You saw me laying Susan."
"Ah yes, that is true, and you have much that Renee will enjoy. Come, let me take off your things so you may be ready for Renee. She can be ready just like that!" She made a sound of a zipper being opened.
Brent permitted her to remove his coat and hang it carefully on the back of a chair. She drew his tie away and pulled his shirt from his trousers. As she peeled the shirt away she ran her small hands through the hair on his chest. "Renee-likes her men with hair here," she said. And she kissed him.
She bent to remove his shoes and socks and her face was only inches from his bulging penis. As she stood again her lips brushed the straining fabric that concealed it. She undid his belt and drew the zipper of his fly down. As the trousers fell away his swollen organ pushed through the opening in his shorts and stood stiffly out from his loins.
Her hand gently pushed it back inside so she could pull the shorts away. "And Renee-likes her men to have much hair here too," she smiled, and entwined her fingers in his pubic area. "Now, you may undress Renee."
His hands came up behind her and the zipper slid smoothly downward. He gripped the wide V at her shoulders and drew the material forward and down, releasing her startling white breasts with the lovely nipples already jutting invitingly. He peeled the clinging material on down over her rounded hips and bent to slide them down her legs and over her feet. He pitched the stocking aside and buried his face in her sweet-smelling pubic area. He felt her hands clenched in his hair.
Her breathing had increased in tempo as she shifted her feet to permit his exploring tongue to find the moist slit he sought. As his tongue darted inside she moaned and shuddered violently.
"Ah yes, you know what pleases Renee. And Renee will please you. Oh, Renee will surely please you."
As his tongue began to stab repeatedly into her, he could feel her clitoris expand and her legs began to tremble. He stood to pick her up and carried her to the bed. Renee lay back and permitted him to place her legs in the position he desired. As his tongue once again began to dart into her now fully opened cunt, she began to thrash wildly about, but he gripped her about the hips and stayed with her. Her hair became disheveled as her head jerked and rolled about. Her breasts jiggled and bounced under his assault.
Then with a sharp cry she gripped his head tightly between her thighs as the hot fluids came up to him. As her breathing slowly returned to normal she smiled at him. "Renee will now give you pleasure you will always remember."
She dropped her thighs from his face and pulled him up over her. As he lowered himself she guided him into her and drew him in with her hands clutching at the cheeks of his ass. As he began to shove himself down to her she arose to meet him and her hips rotated and ground against him. He could feel the mound of her pelvis grind roughly against his genitals.
"Careful with the seed, my love," she whispered through clenched teeth. "I am not prepared with a birth control device. A towel is prepared for you beneath me."
He almost did not hear her as his climax rose rapidly. But above the roaring in his ears he heard her warning and withdrew himself at the last possible moment and the fluid spurted onto the towel between her legs.
"The first time is always quick, but now we shall enjoy ourselves, no?" She smiled and took his slowly deflating penis into her hand and began to fondle it back to life. As it quickly grew she removed a small foil-sealed package from beneath the pillow and withdrew a sweet-smelling moist paper towel. As she carefully wiped it onto the swollen red organ, he felt a pleasant tingling in the tip of it.
"Something to delay the explosion, my love," she explained. "Now you can stay with Renee until she has received enough."
Then she rolled away and assumed a position that he thought would surely be uncomfortable if maintained too long. She had drawn her legs up so that her knees were pressed to both sides of her breasts.
The position pressed the breasts together in an exciting way. Her vaginal opening was brought high and gaped redly and wetly in the center of the mat of black protective hair. He mounted her easily and found the position to his liking. As he fitted himself down over her it was as if she had molded herself into a perfect resting place for his body.
As he began to pound himself into her he found his motions going on and on endlessly. She experienced climax after climax but he could not seem to gain his own release. He wondered what the chemical was that she had smeared on his staff that now robbed him of his pleasure. He felt her body become rigid again as she enjoyed another orgasm.
The pleasure in his loins seemed to grow with each passing stroke but the release he sought continued to elude him. He was not aware that her moans now were not of pleasure alone. His driving penis was causing her such physical punishment she was biting her Up to keep herself from crying out. Just as he was beginning to tire he felt the first hint of impending climax and renewed his assaults with newborn strength.
They both cried out together, she in pain and he in triumph as he jerked the weary shaft from between her loins and again sent the spurting streams of fluid onto the towel beneath her. She brought her hand to press gently over the bubbling opening he had just vacated. "Renee is satisfied," she said with a weak smile.
"So is Bre-ent," he added, mimicking her accent of his name.
Finally the girl staggered to her feet and made her way to the bathroom. She performed the necessary cleaning precautions and prayed she had not received a child. When she returned to the bedroom she found Brent as she had left him, breathing easily in sleep. She studied his handsome profile and smiled to herself. "If Renee becomes with child it would be easy to share life with one so beautiful." Her face became hard and her eyes flashed. "And if the handsome young one rejects Renee and his own child, she will kill him quickly."
And for the second time in as many days Brent awoke in a strange bed. When he opened his eyes he found the lovely face of the French girl hovering over him. She shook him again and kissed him lightly. "Arise, Bre-ent. Soon the master Clinton and his family will return. It would be good if Renee were alone at the time."
She was still nude and her pear-like breasts hung temptingly before his face. He raised his head and kissed each nipple in turn. He reached up to take her tiny face in his big hands and bring her lips down to his. As their tongues teased and chased each other her hand slipped along his flank and crept to his loins. She found him growing quickly in her palm.
"The Bre-ent is a young lion but we must hurry. There will be other times, other places.
Renee will always be ready."
With a final kiss he jumped from the bed and began to pull on his clothes. He saw a clock and smiled slowly. This time he would not have to hurry. He had more than an hour before he had to be at the station.
He finished dressing and returned to the bed on which the nude girl lay. He put aside the urge to grab her up into his arms and cover her beautiful body with kisses. "I'm going to remember what you said," he smiled down at her. "Renee will always be ready."
She returned his smile and repeated the words. A final searching kiss and he was gone.
The early morning traffic was just beginning to take to the streets as he drove to the station. St. John was in the office, reading something on his desk when Brent arrived. He parked the convertible beside his own car and went in.
"Did the owner of that car ever call in?" he asked.
St. John glanced up at him. "No, was she supposed to?" He did not smile as he usually did.
"Well, I figured she would. She was out when I tried to deliver it last night."
"Were you disappointed?" His boss was searching his face.
"Well, I'd like to get the car off my hands. I don't like to be responsible for other people's cars." He glanced at the all-night cafe across the street and smiled. "I'm early so I guess I'll run across and get a bite to eat. Be right back."
He half-expected his boss to call him back but St. John said nothing as he crossed the street and entered the cafe. The smell of fresh coffee made him realize he was very hungry.
He ate two orders of sausages and eggs and drank three cups of coffee before he declared himself satisfied to the girl who served him. She was rather plain and unattractive and she was making open advances to him. She had even opened the top three buttons of her blouse and gave him a careless view of her small breasts resting in the half-cups of her brassiere. He gave her a large tip for her trouble.
Chuck had arrived by the time he returned to the station and was already under the car, attempting to replace the transmission. Brent quickly slipped into his coveralls and wheeled himself in behind the boy. "You knock off some last night?" Chuck leered at him.
"Blew my nuts off," Brent grinned back and began to turn the bolts tight.
"Susan?" Chuck was envious.
"You ask too many questions. Let's get this damn car fixed and out of here."
"Did you get something fixed up for me tonight?" Chuck was hopeful.
Brent glanced at him with regret. "It didn't work out. I'll try to fix you up for tomorrow night."
"Oh damn, I was looking for some tonight." He gave the bolt a savage twist.
Brent had an idea. "Chuck, have you seen that chick over at the cafe across the street?"
"Have I seen her?" He mimicked with a disdainful expression. "Even my balls are bigger than her tits!"
"Yeah, but have you looked in her pants?"
"Have you?"
"I would if I couldn't find anything better. If you gotta have it tonight, go ask her."
"I'd rather wait until tomorrow."
"It's not a sure thing, I only said I'd try."
"Okay, if you can't get me fixed up for tomorrow then I'll give her a try."
They finished bolting on the cover and Brent poured in the fresh fluid. He stood aside as Chuck took the car out for a trial. He soon came back and gave Brent a sign that it was a good job. St. John wrote up the repair bill and gave him a copy for the customer.
"It's almost lunch time so I'm giving you guys your pay now. I'm gonna be gone this afternoon and I want you to be here, Brent."
Brent nodded and took the pay envelope offered to him. He waved as Chuck left to deliver the car. He saw the convertible.
With a frown he went into the office and found the number he sought in the telephone book. He dialed the number and a male voice answered, "Good morning, Bluffside Motel."
"Can you ring Miss Mary Ann Davidson's room, please?"
"Miss Davidson is out at this time. She called in just a while ago. Are you calling about her car."
"Yes, I am."
"She left a message for you. She will return to her room tonight. She asked if you would please deliver her car this afternoon. She said she would explain to you when she saw you."
"Thank you. I'll do that."
He hung up and turned away just as the bell rang. A car had passed over the air-hose and pulled to a stop at the pumps. He glanced out to see a dirty pink Volkswagen with green and yellow flowers painted over it. Each hubcap sported a matching flower and carefully painted white letters proclaimed the owner's desire for free love, various drugs and the downfall of the establishment.
As Brent started out, St. John motioned to him. "Better get the money first, Brent. Remember what that last batch of hippies did."
He nodded. He remembered only too well the bearded, long-haired hippie that had driven his small foreign bus in for gas. A long-haired, rather cute girl had been in the bus and she had been in the act of changing clothes as he went to put in gas.
She had shamelessly removed her glittering shirt and permitted him to admire her unsupported breasts. He had almost overfilled the tank when she had removed her low-cut jeans and let him see that she wore no panties either. She was in the process of putting the shirt back on as Brent replaced the cap and racked the hose. As he was in the process of getting the windshield cleaner the car had started up and sped away. The last thing he had seen was a glimpse of the nude girl on the floor of the bus with her legs thrown wide, making obscene motions at her gaping vaginal opening.
He had realized the girl's actions were an unnecessary part of a plan to get free gas. Buster had docked his pay in the same amount that had gone into the bus. He had been thankful the bus had a small tank.
The Volkswagen had two occupants and both were girls. They had the long hair and wild clothes of hippies but were rather neat and clean looking. The driver was very attractive. She was wearing an orange tee shirt that gave unmistakable proof that the breasts were not confined within a brassiere. The other girl was wearing a flowered blouse through which the nipples could plainly be seen. They were both wearing almost identical low-cut jeans of imitation leather. Brent liked the shape of the driver.
"He-likes tits," the passenger observed casually.
"He's pretty, too," the driver smiled at him. "If he had a beard to go with that curly hair I'd let him eat me."
"Maybe he doesn't like to eat pussy," the other girl countered. Then she turned to Brent.
"Do you like to eat pussy, baby?"
"When it's clean," Brent retorted, still staring at the driver's breasts.
"A damn raccoon, he washes his food first," the other girl snorted. "Can't you stand strong honest pussy?"
"I like it around my prick," Brent replied. "How much gas?"
"Fill it up," the girl was still smiling.
"You got money?"
"He don't trust us." The smile faded, and she sounded hurt.
"Hell, none of them do," the other snarled. "They think hippies are a bunch of free-loaders just because we believe in free pussy. Tell you what, I'll trade you all the pussy you can eat for one little tank of gas. And you can have her for desert."
"Cash," he smiled. "I can get all the pussy I want without giving away gas."
"It's the damn competition," the girl moaned in mock dismay. "There's so damn much pussy around you can't get anything for it anymore. Okay, we got bread, baby. Juice us up."
"Bread first," he said, holding out his hand and smiling.
"He's got such a damn pretty smile I can't stay mad at a stud like him." She handed him a five-dollar bill.
Brent serviced the car and then went to get their change. When he returned to the car he was only mildly surprised that the girl had unbuttoned her blouse. As he gave her the money she glanced about and then held the blouse open for his inspection. "What do you think of those?"
"Very pretty," Brent admitted, letting his eyes drink in the white mounds of flesh, capped with their red-brown nipples.
"Like to see some more?"
"Love to, but not now. The boss is watching."
She quickly closed the blouse and buttoned it. "Where you live?"
"Not alone," he grinned. "Where you live?"
"A lot of studs would like to know that, but you, baby, I like. We got a pad on Blackwood near Highland. Big gray house, just walk up and if I don't answer, just ask for Joyce."
"Or Patty," the other girl smiled. "You'll have a good time. We'll even let you take a trip with us. You like pot?" She started the car.
"Never tried it, but there's always a first time."
"We'll take real good care of you since it's your first time up." She let out the clutch and the car clattered away. He winced at the sound. The motor needed work badly.
Buster was smirking at him when he returned to the office. "Did they try to get you to take it out in trade for the gas?"
"As a matter-of-fact, they did. But I told them I couldn't put pussy in the cash register."
"What'd they say?"
"They gave me bread and I put it in the bread box."
Buster's good humor returned. "How'd they look?"
"Like hippies."
"I mean, were they pretty?"
"Oh yeah, pretty nice looking." Brent grinned at him. "You seem to be getting more interested in some butt hole?"
Buster winced for an instant. "Naw, I was just wondering." Brent caught the wistful tone in his voice. He placed both hands on the desk and met the man's eyes. "Buster, if you got a chance at some fresh pussy, would you take it?"
St. John dropped his gaze to the desk top and he was frowning thoughtfully. Brent glanced at the clock. "Hey, I'm working on my lunch period. You think over what I said, and let me know."
"Okay, you go and eat and get back here before one. Remember I'm gonna be out this afternoon." He paused and bit his lip. "Brent, if I decide to try some fresh tail you'll be the only one that knows. I can trust you to keep your mouth shut. I don't even want Chuck to know."
"You know me." He smiled and went to lunch.
St. John left as soon as Brent returned. He waited for Chuck until one-thirty and then went to busy himself with a tune-up. He was almost finished before Chuck finally arrived. "Where the hell you been? You'd get your ass fired if St. John had been here." He was not angry at the boy and Chuck knew it.
"Ah, I wasn't worried about his being here. I heard him tell you he was gonna be gone all afternoon. I got the old boy's check here for the transmission job." He handed the slip of paper to Brent.
"Okay, you finish this tune-up and then you can wash that red car out there. I gotta make a 'phone call."
Brent put the check into the cash register and fished out a dime for the telephone. He dialed the number and wondered who would answer. "Hello, Clinton residence."
It had to be the mother, Beverly Clinton, a very lovely woman in her middle thirties. It was from her that Susan and Alice got their beauty. He had often wondered how she would look in the nude.
"Mrs. Clinton, Brent here. May I speak to Susan?"
"How are you, Brent? Just a moment, I'll put Sue on the line."
He heard the receiver being laid down and a moment later Susan's voice. "Hello?"
"Hi, sweetheart. How was the trip?"
"Brent, have you been trying to call me?"
"Yeah, and Renee said all of you had gone to a funeral. I'm sorry to hear someone in your family passed away."
"It was someone I hardly know. I would much rather stay here with you but dad insisted we all go. I tried and tried to call you last night but couldn't get an answer. Where were you?"
"I was with Chuck and we went over to help a friend fix his car. It took most of the night to do it."
"You were supposed to call me if something like that happened."
"I know, honey, but I thought we would finish in plenty of time. When we didn't I found he didn't have a 'phone. Are you busy tonight?"
She lowered her voice. "Tiger, how would you like to have a repeat performance of Wednesday? Everybody's gonna be gone tonight, even Renee. I told Mom you were taking me out but I'd rather stay here, okay?"
"Sure, honey, if you want to. What time?"
"Better wait 'till eight. And, tiger, I hope you're carrying a load like last time."
He kissed into the receiver and hung up. He saw that Chuck was watching him with a hopeful expression. Out of compassion for him he tried to recall the name of an old girl friend with whom he could arrange a date. He remembered a name and began to thumb through the telephone book. He found the number and fed another dime into the instrument. He dialed the number.
"Hello?" He was in luck. It was Linda herself. He had been afraid she would be out. "Hi, toots, remember me?"
"How could I forget you, Brent?" Her voice told him she was indeed happy he had called. "I been meaning to call for a long time but, well, you know how things slip."
"Yes, I know," her voice cut in. "What's the reason for this call?"
Brent decided to come right out with it. "I was wondering if you'd do me a big favor?"
"Before I would have done almost anything for you, Brent. I guess I'm still a sucker for you. What do you want?"
"I got a pal here I'm trying to fix up with a date and I didn't want to call just any old girl. I wondered if you'd be free tonight, or maybe tomorrow night."
"What's he like?"
"Well, he's one of my best friends and a real nice guy. I'm sure you'll like him."
There was a long pause as if she were thinking. Then she said, "If I go out with this old friend of yours and show him a good time will you do me a favor too?"
"Sure, kid. That would only be fair. What do you want me to do?" He already knew what she would say.
"I want you to have a date with me again."
Now it was his turn to pause. "Why sure, honey. But you'll have to give me time to set it up. I'm pretty well tied up now."
"I figured you would be. Just any time soon." There was a pause. "And if you'll make it real soon, I'll be real nice to the guy."
"It's a deal, honey. I appreciate it."
He replaced the receiver and gave Chuck the sign he had been hopefully waiting for. His face split in a happy grin as he came into the office.
"You got me a date?"
"For tonight, and damn it, you better behave yourself. She's a nice kid."
"Does she put out?"
"That depends on how you work it. Play it cool and you'll probably get some. Try to rush her and you'll wind up the same way you did with Francis."
He wrote the address on a piece of paper and handed it to him. "About eight, and don't try to climb on as soon as you see her. Give her a little time. You might even do better if you play hard to get."
"Let me take care of it, and thanks, pal." He began to chuckle to himself as he read the paper again and again.
At six Brent closed the station and went out to the convertible. Chuck came out, rubbing, his hands together. Brent motioned him over. "You got time to help me get this car back to the old lady?"
"Where's she live?"
"At the Bluffside. You drive my car and follow me, and I'll bring you back here to pick up yours."
Brent drove rapidly to the motel, keeping an eye on Chuck in the rear view mirror, He pulled the car into a space and got out. He waved for Chuck to wait and ran into the lobby.
He went to the desk and smiled at the little old man behind it. "I'm delivering Miss Mary Ann Davidson's car. She told me to leave the key with you and she would pick it up. Tell her I will call her back if there's any questions."
He nodded and accepted the key and Brent went back to his car. He drove Chuck back to the station and as the boy got out he said, "Remember, keep it cool and have fun." Then he went home.
There was no one there when he arrived and he had not expected anyone to be. He found the note from his mother, read it and returned it to the table. Then he fixed himself a sandwich and a glass of milk. When he finished eating he shaved and showered. Then he sat down to wait until it was time to leave.