Eileen turned her face toward mine. ‘He probably wasn’t following us in the first place.’
‘Maybe not,’ I said.
‘Maybe he just happened to be going in the same direction as us.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Happens all the time.’
‘Sometimes,’ I said, ‘they are following you.’
‘Not this time, I guess.’
‘Let’s make sure,’ I said. ‘He might just be waiting for us to come out of hiding.’
‘Guess you’re more deeply paranoid than me.’
‘More than likely,’ I said.
‘I don’t like being on someone else’s property.’
‘We’re not hurting anything.’
‘They might not see it that way.’ She twisted partway around and looked toward the house.
I looked, too. From where we were crouched, we couldn’t see any of the windows.
‘Guess they can’t see us,’ Eileen whispered.
I looked toward the house next door. ‘Neither can they,’ I said.
Eileen faced me. ‘We’re pretty well hidden, aren’t we?’
‘Pretty well.’
‘Not as well as under the bridge, though.’
I wished she hadn’t mentioned the bridge. ‘This is sure better lit,’ I whispered.
‘I was so scared.’
‘Me, too.’
She set her books and binders down on the concrete. ‘Hold me,’ she whispered.
I put down the grocery sack.
On our knees in front of the car, we turned toward each other. Eileen spread my cape open and eased in against me. She put her hands on my back below the bottom of my book bag. I hugged her gently. She was trembling, but felt warm against my body.
‘That was so terrible,’ she whispered close to my ear.
‘A lot worse for you.’
‘They were all over me.’
And in you? I wondered. But I couldn’t ask.
‘You know what bothers me the most?’ she asked.
‘Huh-uh.’
Here it comes.
‘They could see us.’
‘I guess so.’
‘They must’ve been able to see us,’ she said. “They knew right where we were ... and where to grab and ... or they couldn’t have done all that. But it was pitch-black in there.’
‘Not completely,’ I said.
‘We sure couldn’t see them. Or even each other.’
‘They’d probably been under there long enough for their eyes to adjust.’
‘But it was so dark. God, it was dark.’ She pressed herself more tightly against me. The concrete was hurting my knees. ‘You can’t see in that kind of darkness no matter how long you’ve been in it.’
‘They must’ve.’
‘I know. I know. They were probably there the whole time. Just standing there silent. You’d think we would’ve at least heard them breathing.’
Or undressing, I thought.
Unless they stripped before we got there.
Maybe they’d been skinny-dipping in the stream.
Didn’t seem likely. Not on a chilly night like this.
‘Or smelled them,’ Eileen said. ‘Did you smell them? They stank when they were on me, but I never smelled them till then.’
‘I didn’t, either.’
‘I thought we were alone.’
‘Same here.’
‘I mean, we should’ve been able to hear them or something. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Huh-uh.’
‘And to think they were right there while we ... did all that.’ She shivered in my arms. ‘And we didn’t even know it.’
‘Ninja bums,’ I whispered.
She laughed softly, quietly, her breath blowing hot against the side of my neck, her body shaking. ‘Very funny,’ she whispered.
For a while after that, we didn’t say anything. Just held each other. She stopped trembling. I could feel the slow, easy rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
‘We’ve probably been here long enough,’ I said.
‘My knees are killing me,’ she said.
‘Me, too.’
‘My knees aren’t even touching you.’
We both laughed a little at that.
‘You’re pretty funny for a scholar,’ I told her.
‘I’m no scholar. Kirkus is the scholar.’
‘He just thinks he is.’
‘Hope he got home all right.’
‘Think he believed us?’ I asked.
‘The teenage gang attack? Yeah. He believed that, all right.’
‘Nice touch, the pee in the hair.’
She laughed. ‘Did you catch him sniffing? The look on his face, you’d think he smelled it.’
I put my face against her hair. It seemed damp and heavy against the side of her head.
‘How does it smell?’
‘Fine.’
‘I hope nothing awful was in that stream.’
‘You can take a nice bath when we get to my place.’
‘Can’t wait,’ she said.
‘Ready to go?’
‘Hope I can still stand up.’
I knew just what she meant; my knees felt ruined, too.
We eased away from each other. Eileen picked up her stack of books and binders and clutched them to her chest. I grabbed the top of the grocery sack with one hand and held the front of my cape shut with the other.
My knees made crackling sounds when I stood up.
Eileen groaned. ‘Next time we do this,’ she said, ‘we should bring kneeling pads.’
‘That’s a very good ...’
Bring-bring-bringgg.
It was too late to duck.
She came coasting down the sidewalk from the left, a skinny old hag in black spandex, her ballcap turned backward, her bike tires humming softly, almost silent.
As she glided toward the driveway, her head turned toward us. Her face was dark with shadows.
She sees us, I thought, though I couldn’t see her eyes.
As her bike sailed across the end of the driveway, she turned her head even more so she wouldn’t lose sight of us. She kept watching us until she passed the neighbor’s hedge.
Eileen and I stood side by side, motionless and silent.
From the right came the bring-bring-bringgg of the bicycle bell.
Eileen looked at me. ‘What the hell was that?’ she whispered.
‘The bike hag,’ I said.
‘You know her?’
‘Not really.’
Bring-bringgg.
It came from farther away.
‘I wanta get outa here,’ Eileen said.
‘Let’s go.’
Chapter Twenty-four
‘Oh God, the church,’ Eileen said as we crossed the final street on our way to my apartment building. ‘Nothing more fun than an old church late at night. I wonder who’s waiting there to scare the crap out of us.’
‘No one, I’m sure.’
‘I’m not sure of anything,’ she said.
‘You want something good to worry about, how about Mr and Mrs Fisher?’
‘Oh, they’re harmless.’
‘If they see us like this ...’ I shook my head.
‘We’ll tell them we were set upon by a gang of teenaged ne’er-do-wells.’
‘Sure.’
‘Worked on Kirkus,’ she pointed out.
‘Kirkus is an idiot.’
I stepped ahead of Eileen, unlocked the door and let us in. I shut the door silently. Leading the way, I crept though the foyer.
The Fishers’ door was open, light spilling out into the gloom of the hallway. From where I stood, I could hear their television. The music sounded like Halloween.
‘Great,’ I muttered.
‘It’s okay,’ Eileen whispered.
‘I’m wearing a vampire cape.’
‘They’ll just think you’re zany. Come on.’ Eileen left me standing there. As she walked past the Fishers’ op
en door, she kept her face forward and didn’t look in.
I hurried after her.
On my way past the door, however, I had to look.
Mrs Fisher stood just inside the doorway, leaning forward on her cane. She stared at me through her thick glasses. Her eyes looked as big as eggs. I jumped and said, ‘Oh, hi.’
‘Hi back,’ she said, grinning.
I had to stop.
‘What’s that outfit ya got on there, Eddie?’
‘A vampire cape. It’s for Halloween.’
‘What’s Holly got on?’ she asked.
Holly?
I backed away as Mrs Fisher hobbled into the hallway. Eileen had stopped at the foot of the stairs.
‘Hi, Mrs Fisher,’ she said.
‘Come on back and let me take a look at ya, Holly.’
Eileen smiled and approached.
‘What sorta get-up’s that?’ Mrs Fisher asked her.
‘Just my usual clothes.’
‘If you say so.’
Mrs Fisher, herself, was wearing a huge gray sweatshirt with the old Willmington University logo on the front. Around the logo, purple letters read, HOME OF THE BRAVES. She had a white bath towel wrapped around her waist. It reached down almost to her knees like a skirt. From the towel down, her heavy legs were bare. She wore blue tennis shoes that didn’t have any laces.
‘Thought ya had on yer Halloween get-up,’ she said.
‘Not tonight,’ Eileen said.
‘Eddie, he’s already got his.’ Turning her giant eyes on me, she said, ‘Come on in and show Walter.’
‘We really have to get going.’
‘It won’t take but a second. Give him a laugh.’ She reached out for me, but I sidestepped toward the stairway and she missed. ‘Now don’t be so shy, Eddie.’
‘It’s awfully late,’ I said. ‘I’ll show Walter some other time, okay?’
‘Well...’
‘We’ll see you later, Mrs Fisher,’ Eileen said.
‘Well, awe right. You two go ’n’ run on along. Good seein’ ya again, Holly.’
‘Thanks,’ Eileen said. ‘Same here.’
‘My, but you’ve grown.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Still just as nice as pie.’
‘You, too. See you later.’
At the foot of the stairway, we looked back at her. She waved goodbye with her cane.
‘Night,’ I said.
‘Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’
We hurried upstairs. I felt squirmy from the encounter, but Eileen was smiling.
The second floor hallway was murky with dim, yellowish light. All the doors were shut.
‘She’s not so bad,’ Eileen whispered.
‘At least she didn’t make any trouble about you coming up here.’
‘Maybe because she thinks I’m Holly.’
‘She liked Holly a lot.’ Unlocking my door, I added, ‘Everyone did. Guess everyone still does. Except me.’
We entered my rooms and I shut the door.
‘I’m not such a big fan anymore, myself,’ Eileen said.
While she set her books and binders down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, I carried the grocery sack into the kitchen and put it on the counter. I reached under my cape and removed my book bag. As I swung it onto the table, Eileen came in.
‘Okay if I take a shower?’ she asked.
‘Sure. I’ll get you a clean washcloth and towel.’
She followed me to the bathroom. I flicked on the light, then went to the nearby linen closet. The washcloth and towel I took down were pink and soft. I’d bought them last year for Holly to use when she spent nights with me.
I carried them into the bathroom for Eileen.
‘I might need some bandages when I’m done,’ she said.
I opened the medicine cabinet and showed her where they were.
‘I’ll try to be fast,’ she said.
‘Take your time. No hurry.’
‘Go ahead and help yourself to the rum. You don’t have to wait for me.’
‘Okay. See you later.’ Leaving her in the bathroom, I shut the door.
But I didn’t help myself to the rum. Instead, I went into my bedroom. With the light on, I turned to the mirror. My hair was mussed, my face dirty and scratched. Spreading the cape open, I bared my teeth and snarled at the mirror.
Big, bad vampire.
Sure.
I did look scruffy and a little scary, though.
Should’ve tried this with Kirkus.
Or the bike hag.
I almost smiled, but my mind suddenly hit me with a picture of the bum I’d found underneath the bridge. Feeling hot and sick, I turned away from the mirror and removed the cape. Then I took off the rest of my clothes, put on my robe and flopped down on my bed to wait for Eileen to finish her shower.
The guy’s probably okay, I told myself.
He had that erection.
I should’ve checked his pulse.
If I’d tried that, he might’ve grabbed me.
Suppose he is dead?
He’s not, I told myself. But if he is, they won’t know we had anything to do with it.
We’ll have to keep our mouths shut about what happened under there.
What about Kirkus? He knows we were in a fight. He might tell on us.
So who cares? It was self-defense anyway. It’s not like I murdered the guy.
But I felt hot and sick from thinking such thoughts.
So stop it, I told myself. Think about something pleasant. Think about Eileen.
As I gazed at the ceiling and listened to the hiss of the shower, I pictured her standing under its spray. Steam swirled around her like hot fog. Water splashed her face, ran down her body. She was ruddy and gleaming ...
Just like Holly.
I shut my eyes.
Holly and I had taken showers together sometimes. Stood facing each other beneath the hot spray, me sliding soapy hands over her breasts, Holly lathering my penis, her slippery hand gliding up and down.
Should I go to her?
It’s Eileen, not Holly.
Holly wouldn’t want me, anyway. The slut has her Jay.
It’s Eileen in the shower now.
Maybe she wants me to be with her. Maybe she’s hoping I’ll come in, and she’ll be disappointed if I don’t.
No no no, I thought. She doesn’t want me now, not after what they did to her. She wants her privacy while she cleans up and tends to her wounds.
In my mind, however, I go to her. I sweep aside the shower curtain and there she stands under the spray, looking at me and weeping and holding out her hands for help. She is scratched and scraped and gashed and chewed, blood spilling from a dozen wounds. Blood squirts from her nipples. It gushes from her vagina as hard as water from a garden hose, pounding the bottom of the tub and splashing against her ankles and shins.
Help me, she says.
I climb into the tub.
I’m bleeding to death!
And I say, Maybe it’s your period
No! They did it to me. Help! Please!
With my fingertips, I pinch her nipples to shut off the squirting blood.
Yes! But the other! The other! Plug it up!
With what?
I already know what. It’s hard and ready. Keeping her nipples pinched, I position myself under the hot gusher and push up into her, stopping the rush of blood.
‘Eddie!’
Did it!
‘Can you come here!’
Where’s she calling from?
Doesn’t matter, I think. I can’t go anywhere. If I pull out, she’ll bleed to death. This was a really bad idea. Should’ve taken her to the emergency room. Never should’ve tried to plug her like this.
But it feels so good.
Too good. When I come, I’ll get soft and she’ll bleed out and ...
‘Eddie? Can you come in here?’
I woke up. I was lying on the end of my bed, my legs hanging off below the knee
s, my feet on the floor. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I saw that my robe hung open. I was stiff and hard, but not in Eileen.
Nobody in the room but me.
‘Eddie?’
She IS calling!
I lurched up, ran to the bathroom and knocked on the door. ‘Eileen?’
‘You okay?’ she called over the hissing, splashing sounds of the shower.
‘Yeah. Fine.’
‘I kept calling and you didn’t answer.’
‘I guess I drifted off.’
And dreamed a little dream of you.
‘I thought something had happened.’
‘No. Everything’s fine.’
‘Can you come in?’ she asked.
I opened the door and entered.
The bathroom was hot and steamy. Eileen’s clothes, including my shirt, were piled on the floor. I stepped over them and walked toward the bath tub. Through the frosted white plastic curtain, I could see the vague contours and color of her body.
I saw no red.
‘Can you come here?’ she asked. ‘
‘Sure.’
I stopped on the bath mat.
‘You probably need a shower, too,’ she said.
‘Probably.’
‘Want to come in now?’
I opened my robe and looked down. Still partly aroused from the dream, I was sticking out straight.
Embarrassing. But a little exciting, too.
Maybe it’ll go down if I wait a while.
‘Eddie?’
‘Huh?’
‘Coming in?’
‘Just a minute.’
She was facing me through the curtain. One of her breasts seemed to be touching the frosted plastic.
I gave up any hope of shrinking.
So I took off my robe and tossed it out of the way. Eileen, obviously watching me, pulled the curtain aside. I climbed into the tub.
It wasn’t much like the dream. Though her wet skin gleamed, no blood squirted or gushed out of her body. The injuries that I could see were contusions and scratches. She also looked as if she’d been bitten in several places. The teeth hadn’t broken her skin, but they’d left marks.
‘You don’t look too bad,’ I said.
‘Neither do you.’
I had worse abrasions than Eileen. More scratches and bite marks, too.
She began to slide a bar of soap over my body. ‘I’ll get you all nice and squeaky clean,’ she said.
She already looked squeaky clean, herself.
Her sliding hands made me soapy all over. Then she wrapped her arms around me, pressed her body gently against mine and kissed me with her mouth open. She moaned and squirmed. I was upright and thick against her belly. She felt slippery and soft all the way down to her knees.
Night in the Lonesome October Page 13
