Funland

by Richard Laymon

  “Why?”

  “It’s my fault that Gloria Weston disappeared. She was Dave’s girlfriend. She played dress-up and got nailed because of us, because she was upset and wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Debbie sniffed and blinked. “Because Dave dumped her?”

  “That’s right. So we owe her. Do you understand?”

  “No. If she did something dumb, it’s her problem.”

  “It’s our problem too. Now, I’d better go take my bath and get ready, or I’ll be late to Dave’s.”

  “How would you like it if I went to Funland in the middle of the night?”

  “I wouldn’t, honey. Of course not. And I don’t expect you to like it that I’m going. But I’m not in the habit of keeping secrets from you. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “You just have to be brave about this kind of thing. My job gets dangerous sometimes, but I’m a pretty dangerous gal myself.” Smiling, she ruffled Debbie’s hair. “You’d better finish your pizza before it gets cold.” She stood up, took her cap and blanket off the chair, and headed for her room.

  From the living-room window, Dave saw Joan’s car stop at the curb. He hurried to the front door and opened it. Joan came up the walkway, a grocery bag in her arms. The last time she’d come to his house, she had also been carrying a grocery bag. Champagne in that bag. He guessed, however, that this one held her troll costume.

  He wished it didn’t.

  The stuffed bag was a sharp reminder of what lay ahead.

  Always something bad ahead of us, he thought. Won’t we ever get a chance to be together without a sword hanging over our heads?

  We’ve got hours before we have to go, he told himself. Just try not to think about later on. It doesn’t have to ruin things.

  Coming up the walkway, she saw him and smiled.

  What if this is it? What if this is our last time with each other?

  The thought shook him. He told himself it was ridiculous, but realized he was taking a mental picture of her. To store this moment in his memory.

  She looked wonderful. Her hair was golden and glossy in the evening sunlight, and blowing slightly. She wore her short white dress—the one she’d worn Thursday when she came with her “medication” to perk him up. The sleeves were rolled up her forearms. Her bare legs looked tawny and sleek and strong.

  “How’s my guy?” she asked, climbing the front stoop.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “You don’t sound very sure.”

  He stepped backward through the doorway. She entered, and he shut the door. She set the bag down. She put her arms around him. They kissed.

  Dave held her tightly. He felt her warmth and her strength and her softness. The pressure made his chest wound sting, but he didn’t ease his hold.

  I won’t lose her, he told himself. No way.

  She patted his rump and took her mouth away, and he felt the smoothness of her cheek against the side of his face. Her hair smelled clean and fresh. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He relaxed his arms and held her gently. “I’m just not overjoyed about our little mission.”

  “That’s not for a long time.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  “Five hours. Five whole hours.”

  “And maybe there’ll be a call from the governor.”

  “You are in bad shape.” She looked him in the eye. “Did you get the vests?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then we’re protected. Barring, of course, the fulfillment of the ‘cursa squirmy death.’”

  “Very funny.”

  “Very hungry.”

  “Is that a hint?”

  “I had to watch Debbie eat pizza. You got any pizza? Huh? Do ya, do ya?”

  “How about shish kebabs?”

  “Even better.”

  “And beer,” he said.

  “I like beer.”

  “Does it make you a jolly good fella?”

  “If it makes me a fella,” she said, “we’re both in for a big letdown.”

  Her mouth went to his again. As they kissed, her hands slid up and down his sides. He caressed her back, curled his hands over the firm mounds of her buttocks, slipped her dress a little higher. Her panties felt skimpy and silken. He smoothed the fabric against her rump, then moved his hands above the thin elastic band and stroked the sleek bare curves of her lower back, her sides.

  Her stomach growled. She laughed softly into his mouth.

  “Is that another hint?” he whispered.

  “Are you barbecuing the shish kebabs?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Is the fire going yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  She kissed him briefly. “You’d better start that one too.”

  Joan eased away from him. Looking into his eyes, she rubbed her wet lips with the back of a hand. She straightened her dress. “We can probably get back to this other thing later,” she said. “Do you think you can remember your place?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll remind you. I’ve got a memory like an elephant.”

  “And an appetite to match.”

  They went into the kitchen. Dave took cans of beer from the refrigerator, popped them open, and gave one to Joan. She followed him outside through the sliding glass door. She sat on a padded lounge and sipped her beer while he dumped charcoal briquettes into the grill, piled them neatly with tongs, squirted fuel over them, and lit the fire.

  “It’ll be a while,” he said.

  “Do you need help with anything?”

  “Nope. We just have to wait for the fire. Would you like something to nibble on?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got to start watching my figure.”

  “Something wrong with it?” he asked, turning a lawn chair toward her and sitting down.

  “So far, so good,” she said. “But you know how it goes. We start letting ourselves go to pot the minute we hook the right guy.”

  He felt a glow spread through him. “I’m the right guy?”

  “Oh, I think there’s a good chance of it.”

  “And you’ve hooked me?”

  “Oh, I think so.” She gave him a smug smile. There was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “What do you think?”

  “Good chance of it.”

  “Then again,” she said, “maybe I’m the one who’s hooked. You’re reeling me in.” She flipped her sandals off. They dropped to the concrete patio. She slid her bare feet up the cushion and rested the beer can atop her raised right knee. “Stupid analogy, huh? Makes us sound like a couple of bass.”

  “Hope you don’t turn out to be the big one that got away,” Dave said.

  “Consider me landed.”

  “So now what, I beat you on the head with a club? Clean you and throw you on the skillet?”

  “Hell, no. I’m a trophy. You mount me.”

  “I like that idea.”

  “Me too.”

  She lifted her beer, shutting her eyes as sunlight caught the top of the can. The reflection lit her face briefly with a bright disk. Dave watched her throat move as she swallowed. She set the can on a tray beside the lounge. She stretched, and her raising arms drew the front of her dress upward, molding it against the undersides of her breasts. She folded her hands behind her head and straightened out her legs.

  “This is very nice,” she murmured.

  “What is?”

  “Just lying here. The sunlight, the beer, the smell of the fire. You. And knowing that nobody will barge in and ruin things.”

  “We’ve had a run of bad luck that way.”

  “I’m glad you had a chance to meet Debbie, though.”

  “She’s a beautiful young lady.”

  “She likes you.”

  “We barely met.”

  “She’s a quick study. And supercritical about the guys I go with. You seem to be the first to pass inspection.”

 
“Good taste on her part.”

  “She’s got a keen eye for losers. Not me. I’m more like our mother. She always fell for weak guys with sad eyes. She must’ve been a basset hound in a previous life.” Joan opened her eyes and frowned at Dave. “I guess it’s an overdeveloped mothering instinct. It can screw you up, get you involved with guys who are…I don’t know, more like children than men. That’s no good, and I know it. I saw what it did to my mother. She wanted a knight in shining armor, but when it came right down to it, she always wound up with a lackey. I don’t want that happening to me. But it was happening to me. Time after time. It seems like I’m always getting attracted to guys who can’t stand on their own two feet. In my previous life, I guess I was a crutch.”

  “I wouldn’t mind leaning on you,” Dave said. He meant it. From the look in Joan’s eyes, he could see that she knew he meant it.

  “Anytime,” she said. “Shining armor, that’s heavy stuff.”

  “So you think I’m a knight, do you?”

  She smiled. “Close enough.”

  “Are you a damsel in distress?”

  “Frequently.”

  “You’re pretty tough for a damsel.”

  “I’m not so tough,” she said, and a soft, pleading look filled her eyes. It was the look he’d seen when she spoke of destroying Woodrow Abernathy with a kick. It was the look of a little girl who needed to be hugged and assured that everything would be all right.

  Dave rose from his chair. He straddled the lounge, and Joan scooted toward him, wrapped her legs around him, pressed herself against him. “It’s all right to be tough,” he whispered, brushing her lips with his mouth. “I like you when you’re tough. But I like you when you’re not, too. I like everything about you. Almost everything.”

  She drew her head back. The vulnerable look was gone from her eyes. Their mischief was back. “Uh-oh. You mean I’m not perfect?”

  “Well, there’s one little thing…”

  “I know, I’m taller than you. I’ll always wear flats. I’ll buy you lift shoes.”

  “Don’t bother. I like it that you’re tall. Your body is perfect just the way it is. Every inch of you.”

  “You haven’t seen every inch.”

  “I will.”

  “That all depends. What’s wrong with me?”

  “You won’t get mad, will you?”

  “I might get even.” He saw a shadow of worry in her eyes. “What is it, Dave?”

  “I wouldn’t want you to be a coward. But…sometimes…like the way you went climbing up the damn Hurricane to help the guy they put up there. Like the way you went rushing off ahead of me to break up the fight. Like the way you’re so determined to go out on the boardwalk tonight. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to ever lose you.”

  “You’re saying I got more guts than brains?”

  “I don’t want to knock your brains. But less guts might be an improvement.”

  “That’s sweet,” she said.

  “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you. I love you.”

  “You love me?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Heroes don’t last long, Joan. And I want you to last. I want you to be with me till we’re old and doddering.”

  “So we can lean on each other,” she whispered.

  “Right.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Thirty-six

  When the telephone rang, Jeremy leapt from the sofa, saying, “I’ll get it.”

  His mother looked up from her book only long enough to nod, then resumed reading.

  He knew it was early for Tanya’s call. Without even looking at his wristwatch, he knew. He’d been horribly aware of the slow passage of time all afternoon, all evening. The minutes had crept by while he waited on the boardwalk for the banjo girl to join Nate. After his second call to Tanya and her promise to phone him at nine—and meet him later…just you and me—time had crawled at an even slower pace.

  The call was half an hour early.

  But it saved him an endless half-hour of agony.

  He snatched up the handset of the wall phone in the kitchen. Though he was sure that his mother could hear nothing over the sounds of the television in the living room, he spoke softly. “Hi. Tanya?”

  “Terrific.”

  It wasn’t Tanya’s voice.

  “Shiner?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No, that’s okay.” His face felt burning. “It’s just…Tanya said she’d phone me about tonight. You know, the trolling.”

  Shiner was silent for a few moments. “Is it on for tonight?”

  “Well, I don’t know. That’s what she’ll be calling about.”

  “I suppose you’re planning to go.”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” He realized that it hurt somewhere deep inside, lying to her.

  “Really?”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “No way. I told you, I’m done with it. And I think you should quit too.”

  “I’ve thought about it.”

  “It’s going to hit the fan. It really is. Nate was right to quit when he did. I think we all should, but nobody’s going to listen to me. Except you, maybe. Do you still care about me, Jeremy?”

  “Sure. Of course I do.”

  “Honest?”

  “Yeah.”

  And that, he knew, was not a lie.

  “What about Tanya?” she asked. He heard the pain in her voice.

  “There’s nothing going on.”

  “I saw her kiss you.”

  “Well, she was drunk. So was I. It didn’t mean anything. She was kissing everybody last night after you left. I guess she was just grateful that we hadn’t quit on her, like Nate.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

  “I wish it had been you.”

  More silence. Then she said, “I’m sure.”

  “I mean it. She’s not…my type. You know? She’s weird.”

  “I could’ve told you that.”

  “I wanted to be with you after the party.”

  “I wanted to be with you too. Until you kissed her.”

  “She kissed me. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “It really hurt. It hurt a lot. I mean, I know she’s gorgeous and she’s got every guy in the world drooling over her—not to mention Karen, for Godsake. But I thought…I thought you and I had something going, you know?”

  “We did. We do. I really like you. When I figured out you’d left the party, it really messed me up. I left right away, myself. It took all the fun out. I couldn’t stay without you there. I felt so out of place. And, like, lonely all of a sudden.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I messed up so bad.”

  “How did you get home?”

  “I walked.”

  “Oh, no. You walked? That’s miles. I figured somebody’d give you a lift.”

  “After you left, I didn’t want anything to do with the rest of them.”

  “It must’ve taken you all night.”

  “Just a couple of hours.”

  “God, I’m so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have gone off that way. I felt rotten about it. But I had to, you know? I was awfully upset.”

  “Can we see each other again sometime?”

  “Why do you think I called you, doufuss?”

  He could almost see her smile when she said that. Her beaming Shiner smile.

  “My mom’s out on a date,” she said. “I’m all alone here. She won’t be back for hours. I thought maybe you’d like to come over.”

  “That’d be great!”

  Tanya.

  Tanya would be calling soon.

  He’d forgotten. He couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten. The promise of her call, of their later meeting, had been his sole focus, his obsession, all evening.

  “Great,” Shiner said. “I’ll give you the addres
s. Do you have a pencil and—?”

  “Wait. I can’t. I can’t come over. It’d be great, but my mom’s here and there’s no way I can sneak out.”

  “You don’t have to sneak out. Just tell her you’re going for a bike ride or something. It’s not all that late. I’d really like to see you.”

  Jeremy sighed.

  She’s alone, he thought. Jeez. We could do stuff, make out. She wants to make out, or she wouldn’t be asking me over with her mother gone. She wouldn’t risk it. She must really want me bad.

  But Tanya.

  “I just can’t,” he said. “Mom won’t let me out of the house. She grounded me because of last night. I got in late, and also she knew I’d been drinking. I really caught it. So she isn’t about to let me leave.”

  “You won’t come over here, but you’ll go trolling.”

  “Mom’ll be asleep by then. Besides, I only said I might go trolling, I didn’t say I would.”

  “Did they go out last night after the party?” Shiner asked.

  “I don’t think so. I went right home. Why?”

  “Nothing,” she muttered. She was silent for a moment. “Look, if you can sneak out later for the trolling, you could come here instead. I’m sure my mom’s going to be gone most of the night. We’d have lots of time together. How about it?”

  Shit! He could miss the trolling. He wouldn’t mind that. But the meeting with Tanya beforehand…

  How do I get out of this? he wondered.

  “Think up a good one,” Shiner said.

  “Hey, come on.”

  “If you’d rather be with Tanya, why don’t you just admit it?”

  “It isn’t that.”

  “No. I’m sure.”

  “I’ll look like a chicken if I don’t show up.”

  “I’m not going to beg, Jeremy. It’s your choice. Who is it going to be, me or Tanya?”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “Okay. Well, I guess that pretty much answers it. Good-bye.”

  “Shiner!”

  She hung up.

  “Shit!” Jeremy jammed the phone down. He hurried into the bathroom, locked the door, and leaned against it. Baring his teeth, he pounded his fists against his legs. He slid down the door until the floor stopped him. He hugged his knees.

  The bitch! he thought. Damn her! It’s not fair!