A splash where the ripples had formed, and the reflection was not of him now but of a beautiful girl. He gulped. It was Nellie, but not as she was in her thirties but as she might have been when the age of his niece. Her breasts were so big they must have embarrassed her. She was smiling, invitingly, as though to say, "Take me! Take me now!"
He put his toe in the water. He prepared to dive. Then he got hold of himself. The girl was his father-in-law's flame. Besides, she was far too young for him now, and—
The water rippled. The image of Kathy replaced that of Nellie. Smiling impishly, his young niece opened her blouse and gave a lurid wink. Her upper endowment was even better than the prior wet shirt had suggested.
"NO! NO! NO!" he said. He wouldn't have it! He couldn't! Not with his baby sister's daughter!
The water rippled as his heart beat deafeningly. His youthful expectations were rising unbidden by him. It was as if his body were taking over all his will. He gaped open-mouthed as another woman formed there in the water before him.
Red-as-dragon-sheen hair. Greenish cat-eyes, with golden lights flickering compellingly in them. A face, a face, oh, such a face! And a body—a body so full and ripe and mature that those of the younger women dimmed and shrank by comparison. She formed, and then she walked, real and solid, toward him.
His arms reached out, waiting for her to emerge, nude and perfect and commanding desire—
"Zady!" he cried, unable to help himself. "Zady, I want to make love to you!"
"You will, big boy," the red lips promised him.
CHAPTER 9
Skirmish
Kathy Jon was annoyed at her brothers. Alvin, Teddy, and Joey had begged her to take them fishing, and after that big trass she'd caught, she wanted to. To see Alvin's young eyes pop, Teddy yanked almost into the water, Joey screaming with boyish excitement—what more could a sister ask for? The only problem was that things were never quite as she imagined they were going to be. Having rented a boat from Yoke's Boat Rental, obtained a bucket of squirmy bait, and gathered up the fishing gear, they were launched, and the brats characteristically misbehaved.
"Was that a froog that jumped, Kathy?"
"No, Joey, that was a fish."
"Ha! Ha! Ha! That was me throwing a rock!"
"Teddy, we do not throw rocks when we're fishing."
"I do!"
"You do not! Not with me you don't. You want to catch a fish, don't you?"
"What fish? I haven't seen any."
"That's because you're making too much noise."
"Phooey! I'll make noise if I want to."
"You do and you won't catch fish."
"I don't want to catch fish. I want to throw rocks."
Kathy stifled an impulse to throw Teddy overboard. The worst of it was that both his older and younger brother thought he was being smart. It was brothers against sister, boys against girl all over again. Having watched her mother and uncle on occasion she knew it was a fight that would never end.
"Look, boys, if you do things right we'll catch fish. You each told me how badly you wanted to catch fish. Well, now is your chance. You can throw rocks at home anytime."
"No we can't!" Alvin shrilled. "Mama won't let us."
"She said she'd warm our butts if we ever threw stones at the side of the house again," Teddy elaborated.
Joey, maybe and maybe not understanding, snickered behind his hand.
"I didn't mean throw rocks at the house—"
"That's what you said!" Alvin reminded her. He looked the most innocent of boys, even of these three, but Alvin had to be the worst.
"Boys, fun is fun, but it's a nice day and we want to catch fish. You don't want to go back empty-handed, do you? People will make fun of you if you do."
"We'll carry the poles," Alvin offered.
"That's very nice of you, Alvin, but I intend to carry fish."
"Phooey, you caught your fish."
"I think Daddy caught it for her."
Kathy stifled an itch to cuff both older brothers as the younger stuck his tongue out. How could they be behaving like this on such a lovely day?
"I'll tell you what, boys," Kathy said, finally inspired. "We'll pull to shore. Then everyone can pop into the bushes—"
"What for?" Joey demanded, pretending that he didn't know.
"She has to pee," Alvin explained. "Girls always hafta go."
"I'd rather pee off the boat," Teddy said.
"Teddy, don't you dare! Now I'm going to row to that big tree trunk and tie us up to the branch that sticks out over the water. We can fish right there; it should be a good spot. Then we can pull up on shore and have lunch."
"I want lunch now," Joey said. He was making his pouty face, daring her by his actions to smack him. The problem was that she really truly wanted to smack him—hard.
"Yeah, let's eat," Teddy agreed with the younger.
"I'm ready," Alvin said.
"It's early morning yet. If we eat it all up we'll get hungry before the day is over."
"We can go home," Joey said.
"No, we'll eat fish," ace troublemaker Alvin corrected.
Well, now I know what Mama goes through every day, Kathy thought. I'm not going to have any brats. I'm going to spend my life fishing and slinging stones.
The oarlocks squeaked as she applied herself, rowing expertly as she did most boy-things. Boy-things being mostly rough, fun things as opposed to girl-things which were mostly gentle and quiet and to her mind rather stupid. She didn't really blame boys for looking down on girls. Most girls never got to do anything.
"You're going to hit that log!" Alvin shrieked.
She looked where he was pointing frantically from the bow. Under the water was a long, dark shape. As she watched, it glided out from beneath the tree branches and then lower into deep water until it finally disappeared.
"Dummy, that was a fish!" Teddy cried. "A big fish! Bigger than Kathy's!"
"I told you there were fish, boys. You have to try believing me sometime. Still want to go ashore and eat lunch?"
"No!" Teddy exclaimed. "I want to catch that one!"
"It'd pull you in," Alvin said. "Wouldn't it, Kathy?"
"It might. But if you hang on tight and let out the extra line the fish will take, then don't get panicky—"
"I want to catch that fish!" Joey squealed. "I want to yank hard and pull it right out of the water!"
"You can't!" Teddy explained.
"Can too!"
"Cannot!"
Kathy sighed. Something told her that the finer points of angling would be lost on these three for now and for quite some time to come. Her sympathy for her mother was growing larger and stronger by the minute. Now she understood those frequent retorts of "Just you wait until you're married and have kids of your own! Then you'll see how funny it will be!"
"Poor Mom!" Kathy said aloud, easing the boat up to the side of the tree. "Alvin, get that branch!"
"Mom isn't here. Got it, Kathy!"
Well, for a wonder he had done something right! Now if she could just get them fishing quietly, the day might not turn out to be as hideous as it had been so far.
"Does anyone need to go ashore?"
"I want to fish!"
"Me too!"
"Yeah!"
She helped them with their fishing tackle, starting with Joey. He didn't understand about the winding knobs. His idea was to keep pulling the line out until it was all on the bottom of the boat and ready to grab if a fish should strike.
"See, Joey, you wind it all up, and then when a fish takes your bait and runs with it—"
"Fish can't run. They haven't legs."
"Shut up, sweetie."
"I'm Joey."
"You'll be wet Joey if I toss you out of here."
"You wouldn't dare! Besides, you're my sister."
How, oh how, does Mother stand it! I think I'd drown the lot. Even me, sometimes.
"This worm is yucky!"
"Oh, Alvin, you didn't le
ave the bait uncovered out in the sun? I told you to put plenty of dirt on them."
"Easier to get if they're all in a bunch," Alvin explained. "Only now they stink and they're not wriggling."
I will never have a brat! I will never have a brat! I will never have a brat! I'll never marry. If a man comes near me I'll stone him.
She handed Joey his pole with a stern admonition not to pull the line out. She untied the boat from the tree limb, not trusting Alvin to do things right twice in a row. In reaching his knot she almost slipped and fell overboard. The boat rocked. Water splashed up in her face and she realized what was causing it.
"All right, boys, get your behinds on those seats and keep them there. I don't want any of you to as much as shift position. No more rocking the boat, you hear?"
"You're not Mom," Teddy said.
Thank heavens I'm not! She crawled back past Alvin, who was now in the lunch basket, wormy hands and all, and getting in the sandwiches.
"Who wants peajelnutly?"
"I do."
"Me too."
"Sorry. There's just one, and that's for me."
"That's not fair!"
"No. Hit him, Kathy."
"I'm not your mother." She pulled on the oars, seeing Alvin stuffing a sandwich into his mouth and wishing he'd choke on it. Oh, how badly she needed to get to shore! To get away from this bunch, even for the time it would take to answer nature, was a necessity. Come to think of it, nature was pressing the issue.
"You're the only one who has to pee!" Joey said, accurately enough. "The rest of us want to fish."
"We can't fish without bait, Joey. We're going to have to find some. Alvin should have to find bait for all of us since it's his fault the bait went bad."
"Isn't either," Alvin said between mouthfuls of worm-stained sandwich. "I did what you told me."
"You did not, Alvin. You let the worms stand in the sun and you didn't put dirt on them."
"So what? Teddy and Joey would have done the same."
"Wouldn't have!"
"No way!"
"Well, boys, someone is going to have to gather bait. Now we haven't a shovel, but maybe if we lift rocks carefully we can find a few worms. Then there are hopgrasses and ketcrits in the bushes and on the trees and in the grass; those are good baits if you can catch them."
"I want worms."
"I want hopgrasses."
"And you can't crush them. You have to have them alive and kicking so the fish will see them and grab them."
"Says who?"
"Says your long-suffering sister, that's who! And Dad would tell you the same thing." Only their father had wisely declined to come along. Kathy's respect for her male parent's judgment went up a notch.
She parked the boat, anchored it firmly to an old log, and got the boys to finding bait. That was all they'd get done today, she thought, if the boys didn't get tired of searching and get into mischief. Her brothers get into mischief? Incredible notion! But wouldn't it be wonderful if while she was absent they found a stinkcat or disturbed a hornee's nest? In her mind she heard them screaming as they got what they had coming to them. She'd better quit thinking this way. She'd better just get by herself—and fast!
"She's going to pee!"
"I'm coming too, Kathy!"
"No! Stay here. All of you stay here and find some bait!" She practically ran into the brush to get away from them.
A little later, having done what was necessary, rubbing the smarting scratches on her arms and legs caused by the thorny bushes, she seriously considered not going back. They were too much of a handful for anyone, especially their sister! She'd just walk down a meer path for a way, hoping to get lost but knowing she wouldn't, ready to tell them later that she had if that would buy her more time. What she had to do was clear her head—get the anger and frustration out. She should have known better than to come here with them. Her mother knew how it would be—that was why she'd put up no argument against the excursion.
The trees opened ahead and she could see water. A different spot, downstream from where she had lost the monsters. If she just kept walking for a while before going back she was certain it would help. She stepped over a tree limb in her path, bent down and picked up a stone. Her sling was over her left shoulder, held there by a thong. A few rocks heaved at something would be pleasant. Let's see, what was there here that would make a target? What was there she could pretend was a brother?
She reached up the rolled-up sleeve of her greenbriar shirt and got the loop off the shoulder. She fitted the rock into the pocket of the sling and walked along the riverbank. A large bird flopped just above the water, but Kathy did not want to scare it or hurt it. A long-eared squirbet ran up a tree and chattered at her, bushy tail moving. She could chuck a stone that way, but she wouldn't. She wanted to wait for just the right thing—something she would not frustrate or hurt.
The meer path paralleled the river and was here heavily strewn with stones. She knew that daily the slick, antlered herbivores would come to the river to drink and to cool off. It was too late in the morning for her to meet a bull or a cow here, but then a living target wasn't needed. Just an interesting chip bobbing in the riffles, or a drifting piece of wood such as a log with a viable knot. Anything that would be a little challenging to her skill.
Mom had had the same skill when she was her age and had used it often. Only at her age Mom hadn't been looking for targets to escape spoiled brats. At her age Jon the heroine had faced a dragon and popped it with a rock. What must that have been like! Of course her uncle had always explained that Jon popping the dragon had been the dumbest thing possible; the dragon had been apparently dead, and from atop the drift pile in dragon territory the two young adventurers had looked down on it. No, no, not quite right. It was Mom who had spotted the beast and decided to see if it was alive. Kelvin, then scarcely older than her mother, had been setting up their camp. Jon had done her brave or foolish deed, then both had hidden from the dragon in the flood pile until Kelvin finally worked out a way of slaying it.
She reached down and picked up several stones that seemed shaped for accuracy. How much more interesting life must have been for her mother and uncle. Jon hadn't any younger siblings to torment her and keep her from doing things of importance. Jon had been lucky.
She stepped around a dried meer pat, pushed through some appleberry bushes, and had a clear view of the river. It looked good. Not too high, just about the way it had been the other day. The contours of the banks looked familiar, and those riffles—she'd been in those riffles trying to subdue her prize fish! This was where she and her father and uncle had fished. If she kept going she'd soon be at the exact spot.
She kept going; she could not have said exactly why. She wasn't expecting to see anybody. Not today. Even with the word spread about her spectacular catch the river wasn't easy to travel or reach. Easier by boat, she'd thought, and without children it might have been. Did she hear something like a voice?
She saw a man by the river with his arms outstretched. A woman, a beautiful woman with long, red hair, was coming from the water. The interesting thing about the man was that it was her Uncle Kelvin. The astonishing thing about the woman was that she wasn't wearing a bathing suit or underwear. The woman, whom she had heard speaking to her uncle as she advanced toward him, wasn't, as her mother would have said, decent.
How dare he! How dare her uncle be like this! He to whom she had always looked up! He whom she had always admired! The old fool, though a slimmer, better-conditioned fool, was plainly doing what he shouldn't. Poor Aunt Heln; this could break her heart. Damn men anyway!
Kathy hardly thought. Her sling was in her hand and then it was raised and twirling. There was just enough clearance here for the sling to circle free without catching anything. As it went round and round, the sling whistled.
Which one? Which head? Which cheating person did she hate the most? Her arm hurled, having selected its target.
SPLASH! Water and mud geysered up on t
he two people now on the bank. Kathy's stone had struck the water at an angle instead of a head. Even the wicked are not to be casually slain.
Her uncle and another looked at her with dirt on their faces. Under the mud, Kelvin's was very red.
"Kathy! Kathy Jon! What are you doing here?"
But her thoughts were not on her uncle. The woman, not even trying to cover herself, was looking at her. The body of the woman was beautiful in every way that a nude woman could be. But her head! In the instant the rock had splashed, the woman's head had become gray-haired instead of flaming red. Her face, smooth and lovely when the stone had been thrown, was now that of a singularly ugly hag!
Kathy swallowed. Her legs felt weak. She wanted to tremble and lie down, but instead she shouted: "It's the witch, Uncle Kelvin! It's the evil witch!"
Kelvin turned pale as the smooth belly of a kittyfish. He was looking into the beautiful body's ugly face, and clearly the sight of it so near his own had an effect on him, an unnerving effect.
"You brat!" the witch cried. "I'll fix you for this! I'll turn you into—something nasty!" She extended her smooth alabaster arms in Kathy's direction. Her ugly old mouth started reciting some ancient spell.
Kathy was horrified. She wanted to strike the creature on the head, hard. Yet her arms and legs felt wooden, as though she could not raise them of her own accord. Barely she could whisper what she intended to be a shout: "Uncle Kelvin, help me!"
Kelvin seemingly did nothing. His right boot raised, carrying his foot in it; raised and stomped. Down, hard, on a perfectly lovely toe.
The old witch mouth screamed. She tried to dance on her right foot and hold her left foot at the same time. She stepped on a bruising stone, toppled, and fell in the river at what was here its deepest part. Her face came up out of the water and it looked mad as well as ugly.
"Zady, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Kathy's uncle said. Nothing he might have said could have astonished Kathy more.
She found now that she could move. She flung the second stone, striking precisely the center of the witch's forehead. No mercy this time—she intended the stone to kill. The witch fell back with a groan, disappeared beneath the water, but quickly resurfaced. There was a lurid red mark on the forehead where the stone had struck.
Mouvar's Magic Page 11
