Chapter 3
Amy saw Bull before he saw her. He filled the doorway when he walked into the reception center. Her mouth felt suddenly dry and her breath came fast. But she held herself in control, waiting for him to notice her and see his reaction.
Her memory of him had not been wrong. His bigness was the first thing anyone would ever notice about Bull Hanrahan. It was not merely that he was tall, six-foot-three but everything else about him was big also. The head was square, the neck thick merging with wide sloping shoulders and a chest that was huge. Bull was in condition and his waist tapered from his shoulders, giving an impression of slimness that was really a deception, because he was wider there than most men were in the chest.
He had handsome features, blue eyes and thin sandy hair which was in need of combing. He was in uniform, not fatigues, and looking at him and the chevrons on his thick muscular arms, one would think that this was how a First Sergeant should look.
His face split into a big amiable grin when she came into view and he took a long step toward her. Then he stopped and waited for Amy to come to him.
"Hi, baby," he said with affectionate casualness.
Amy forced herself not to run and throw her arms around him. She came toward him, a shy smile on her face, feeling that everyone was watching her.
"Hello, Walter," she said softly.
He looked around the room and saw the other sergeant watching him. Then he put a big hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the door.
"Come on," he said. "We don't want to hang around here."
He led her outside and around behind the building where they were alone.
"So you decided to pay old Bull a visit?" he said, shaking his head.
"I wanted to see you," Amy whispered. "You only sent one letter."
She hadn't wanted it to sound that way, but she knew there was a note of reproach in her voice.
"I ain't much on writing," he said, still grinning.
"It's all right, Bull," she said quickly. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just that it made me feel lonesome, not hearing from you more often. Are you glad to see me?"
He put his arm around her and hugged her close to him. Then he quickly released her.
"That glad enough, baby?"
Amy closed her eyes and drew from his brief touch the blessed reassurance which she had been seeking since first she set foot on the bus. Fear fell away from her and the numbness that had held her in its grip went with it; she felt herself expand and grow warm. Quickly and without forethought she slipped her arms around Bull's big neck and, raising herself on tiptoe, pressed a soft kiss on his mouth.
"I didn't want to forget that," she said, blushing for her own boldness.
"What makes you think I could forget it, honey? Not Bull. Listen, we can't talk here-no privacy, got to hang around here a couple of more hours. But I can get a pass easy. Why don't you go back to town and I'll pick you up there? We can have a little celebration, me and you."
"Can't we talk just for a few minutes?" The thought of going right back to town didn't sit well with Amy.
"I didn't know you was coming." Bull explained, "and I'm still on duty. I got fifteen minutes to come over here and see what was up, but I got to get back now."
"All right. Where shall I meet you?"
"Where you staying?"
"No," she said quickly. "Don't come there. I'll meet you somewheres."
"Okay. There's a place about half a mile out of town-you eare't miss it-Earl's Tavern. Say I meet you there about eight?"
"Pick me up in town, Bull. I don't want to wait there alone in case you come late."
"I won't be late, baby. But all right. At the bus stop in town. Eight o'clock."
She watched him as he strode off, her emotions a confusion of happiness at seeing him and disappointment at the short time of contact. But she was happy over the way things had gone and sure that she had not erred in coming. She hurried back to catch the bus before it left.
Amy made it a point not to be early for the appointment, not wanting to have to stand around and face the curious looks of passersby. She took a long time dressing, choosing a black dress that she had bought before coming. It was the first dress that Amy had ever selected that discarded her usual modesty. As she put it on she was aware of the fact that she was not ashamed of displaying her body, but rather wanted to do so for Bull. Hatless and wearing a green topper she came down the creaking stairs only to see the disapproving cold stare of Mrs. Cartison measuring her. The older woman turned sharply and walked into another room as Amy came abreast of her.
The click of her spiked heels sounded lonely on the dark street, but she was already accustomed to Millersville and it did not bother her. Rather she felt pleased at being wrapped for a while in soft darkness and not having to parade through a crowded street on her way to meet Bull.
She saw him half way up the street, towering above the others. He was leaning against the wall, idly searching for her. He looked so powerfully masculine to Amy that she thought no man in the world could compare to him. Then he saw her and waved in the breezy manner she associated with him. When she came up to him he grinned down at her in the way she had remember and Amy felt herself grow weak. All at once her shyness returned.
Earl's Tavern, where Bull took her, was a roadside bar that had languished until the Army camp had opened nearby. Now it was jumping with soldiers and coarse-looking hostesses in daringly-cut gowns, a box blaring in the background. There were leather-upholstered booths where couples could sit and Bull guided Amy to one of these.
"We'll have a few drinks, something to eat and a couple of dances and then we'll take off," Bull told Amy. "I've got a nice place to go after here."
Suddenly Amy knew what Bull meant and she grew tense, both with yearning for it to happen again and with fear that it would happen in the same way as before. The whole torturing problem thrust itself upon her now, breaking through the almost giddy state of mind that had held her since she saw Bull at the camp. She knew now that she would have to act tonight.
But no opportunity presented itself. She looked for her chance, trying to turn the conversation in a direction that would make it easier for her, but Bull was intent on a good time and did not notice her efforts. Amy finally gave up for the present and decided that in Bull's arms all her resolution weakened and her whole body cried out for his love.
When Bull had drunk and danced enough, he said "Come on, baby," and led her out, shouldering his way through a crowd of soldiers. He took her around to where he had parked the borrowed car for the evening, his arm draped around her. Amy could feel his strong fingers holding the flesh of her back tighten as they reached the car. He bent and pressed his mouth down on hers, cradling her head in his big hand.
She had no defense against him at this moment. All she had was a wildness that caught her, that made her thrust herself hard against him, that made her glory in the fierceness of his grip and the searing hunger of his mouth, that made all of her revel in the wantonness that was beyond thought and fear. It was for this that she had come and all her anxiety melted away under the heat of Bull's desire and her own, wanting nothing to spoil the love she had found. They clung to each other for what seemed to Amy a long time. It was only with reluctance that they loosed their hold on one another and stood away, each shaken by the knowledge of the other's hunger.
As they got into the car Amy did not question where they were going, content that she was with Bull and that he wanted her as much as ever. Because she was certain now of the outcome, convinced that Bull's embrace had been a declaration of intention that she could not mistake, she was ready to jeer at herself for her fears and her doubts.
Bull drove her back to town, out to the other side from where Amy was staying, turned off the main road and up a dark side street. He pulled up in front of a darkened cottage and stepped out of the car without a word. Amy looked around her, but they seemed to be quite alone and the house gave every indication of being empty. Puzzled, she followed him. It was not that anything about the setup alarmed her, but it did not seem quite to match what she had been thinking on the way here and her attitude was one of trying to reconcile the two rather than look for something out of line.
However, when Bull took a key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock, Amy could not down a strong sense of disquiet that came over her. She was not so blind that she could believe that this house was Bull's and that this was the way to spend a date. Yet she felt that she had doubted Bull unjustly up to now and at this point she suspended judgment on what happening, assuring herself that it was perfectly all right and that once more she would feel silly. Nevertheless the feeling of alarm persisted as she followed Bull into the cottage.
It did not lessen when Bull closed the door behind her and she heard the lock click. They were in a cheaply furnished cottage and the first thing that struck Amy's eye as she looked in was a long low, wide sofa sitting before a greystone fireplace that still had the dead remains of an old fire. Cheap print curtains shut off the windows and numerous ashtrays filled with cigarette butts testified to the fact that the place was used rather steadily. But to her confusion, Amy saw no indication other than this of people living here.
Bull wasted no time. Turning to her, he caught her in his arms. But somehow, though the desire was wild within her, Amy could not surrender fully to it this time, much as she wanted to. The strange house had rubbed her the wrong way, set her on her guard and reminded her strongly of the purpose of her journey. Even as she felt Bull's body hard against hers and his mouth bruising hers with its ferocious assault, a part of her mind remained shut against the elemental appeal of Bull's passion and held itself coolly aloof from Amy's own terrible desire.
The fire was in Amy as much as it was in Bull and she knew well how its heat could sear and burn. But suddenly Amy knew that never again could she have with Bull what she had shared with him back in the city. Slowly her embrace withered, her hands sliding down from their fierce lock around Bull's neck, her mouth growing slack and her body bending loosely in response only to his strength, but not to her own will.
Finally Bull noticed it too. He stared in puzzlement at her.
"What's the matter, baby?" he asked thickly.
"Why did you bring me here, Bull?" she asked softly. "Is it because you love me?"
It was a weakness that she did not like about herself when she did it, but Amy was afraid not to put the words in Bull's mouth. She was thinking hard, telling herself to handle it carefully, not to anger him, but to bring him around slowly to the point where each would have their will. Because Amy knew herself by now, knew that she would have no barrier against the storm of hunger that would come over her if Bull should meet her demands.
"Sure, baby," Bull said, "sure I love you. Didn't I tell you that back in town? And you love me too. That's why you come all the way up here to see me."
He reached out again, caught her by the wrist, and pulled her against him. Amy tried to hold back, but his arms wrapped around her in a crushing embrace. She did not fight it and part of her was ready now to surrender, to throw it all away and take the joy she knew would come if she permitted it. But when she felt him forcing her toward the sofa, she suddenly began to twist wildly in his arms, tearing her mouth from his frantically, beset by a fear she no longer tried to reason with.
"Wait," she gasped, "wait, Bull."
"I can't baby. I'm nuts about you, kid."
"If you love me, you'll marry me!" She managed to get the words out just before his mouth closed over hers. When she said them she felt instant relief and confidence that she had done the right thing.
The effect on Bull, however, was hardly one she had anticipated. He stopped in the midst of his embrace and stared at her with unbelieving eyes. Amy stepped away from Bull. She was waiting for his answer, but now she knew that she did not have to wait for words to know what it would be. The incredulous expression on Bull's face told her everything. He made a half-hearted motion to reach for her again, but when she stepped away he did not try to follow her.
"Marry you?" he said.
Then he started to laugh. Not hard, but softly, chuckling, as if to himself at a joke he had just remembered from the past, a joke that he had not understood but which had just come to him. Suddenly he stopped laughing and shook his head from side to side as if what she had said was just too much too be believed.
"You're kidding," he said flatly. "You didn't come up here thinking I was going to marry you. You came up here because you had a yen for old Bull. And don't worry about a thing, baby, I'll take care of it." He stepped toward her again.
Amy, frightened, backed away hurriedly, afraid not so much of Bull, but of her own treacherous body which might yield despite everything. It was a misery to her that she still wanted him, that her yearning was even greater now than it had been before.
"Don't," she warned tensely. "I'll scream." It stopped him.
"Take it easy, baby," he said with unaccustomed gentleness. "Nobody's going to hurt you. But nobody's going to marry you either. Leastwise Bull ain't going to marry you. That's for sure. You're a nice kid, but I don't aim to get myself hitched. Plenty of dames go for Bull. Plenty. But take it easy and nobody's going to hurt you."
He still wanted her, Amy guessed. He didn't want to marry her, but she could tell from his manner that he wanted her. Just as she still wanted him. A desperate thought occurred to her. She would have to break off from him and hope that his wanting her would increase to the point where he would come back, that he would want her enough to marry her. If only she could be strong enough to hold out.
"I'm going out of here, Bull. Don't try to stop me because I'm not going to stay. I wish I could say I hate you for laughing, but I don't. However, I'm not going to have anything to do with you this way.
She started toward the door afraid to look at Bull as she did. She did not know if she was afraid because he would stop her or because he would not. Her legs felt very stiff but she managed her exit with a dignity of which she was not aware. Bull watched her, still not believing that this was happening to him, but with an attitude of amused toleration of something peculiar. Just before she reached the door, he said:
"Wait a minute, Amy, and I'll take you home. After all, I'm not such a bad guy. I'm not sore about what happened. Maybe I killed a night and spent a couple of bucks, but I had a good time while it lasted."
"You're not angry!" she exploded. "You spent money! Why, you-you just made a fool of me, and you re not angry!"
She rushed out of the house and slammed the door behind her. Down the street she ran, eager to get as far away from him and the scene of her humiliation as she could. Her heels clicked sharply in the sound pursued Tier until she was forced to stop, completely out of breath. She could hear no other sounds besides her own labored breathing and it was clear that Bull had made no attempt to follow her.
Holding back the tears now proved impossible and Amy let herself go, relieving herself of the terrible tension of desire and frustration, of pride and humiliation that had accumulated in her. She leaned against a tree and wept.
Finally, she managed to stop crying and set out to find Mrs. Cartison's again. She avoided Main Street, not wanting people to see her tear-streaked face. Stumbling in the darkness, she at last found Mrs. Cartison's. As she climbed the stairs she was sure the woman heard her, but she didn't care. All she wanted was the forgetfulness that would come with sleep.