Blood Games

by Richard Laymon

  In front of the big desk was a single armchair with brown vinyl upholstery. The hot seat, she thought. Probably where Barbara was sitting when Hardin dumped the rum on her head. Some must’ve gotten on the carpet. Sure enough, the old gray carpet was stained around the chair. More than a litde rum, Abilene guessed, had been spilled there.

  A couple of straight-backed chairs stood just inside the door. There were bookshelves against two walls, filing cabinets in one corner. The room reminded her of other campus offices she had seen: cluttered with books, pamphlets, magazines, stacks of paperwork. Only the top of Hardin’s desk was tidy, bare except for the telephone, in and out baskets, a Rolodex and a pen set -and the items brought in by Cora and Vivian.

  Soon, all five glasses were fully loaded with ice, lemonade and tequila. ‘Help yourselves, ladies,’ Cora said. She took one, went around to the rear of the desk, sat in a swivel chair and put her feet up.

  The others lifted their glasses. They waited while Helen finished breaking into a bag of potato chips. When she finished and picked up the last glass, Cora raised hers and toasted, ‘To us.’

  ‘More guts than brains,’ Abilene added.

  ‘That’s for sure,’ Vivian said.

  ‘Daring young maids,’ said Finley.

  ‘Can’t believe we’re doing this,’ Helen said.

  Then they drank.

  Vivian made a face. ‘Yuh! This stuff is strong.’

  Abilene hadn’t watched the preparation of the drinks. From the taste of hers, however, she suspected that her tequila had been flavored by a splash of lemonade.

  ‘Yum yum,’ Finley said.

  ‘So Hardass was in here tonight?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘And she nearly caught us.’

  While everyone sipped their drinks and munched chips, she told the story of their trip to the restroom.

  ‘You stepped in the toilet?’ Cora blurted, laughing.

  ‘It was dark,’ Helen explained.

  ‘Gross,’ said Vivian.

  ‘I wondered what that smell was,’ Finley said.

  ‘So anyway…’ and Abilene went on. They all cracked up when she told of Hardin’s fart. ‘And she said, “Fuckin’ chili.” ’

  ‘You’re making that up,’ Vivian protested.

  ‘No lie. That’s just what she said. Helen heard her.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what she said.’

  ‘And you should’ve smelled that sucker!’

  ‘Hardin didn’t say “fuck”. Not Hardin.’

  ‘Did, too.’

  ‘I always knew she was a fraud,’ Finley said. ‘Nobody can be as uptight as she puts on.’

  ‘She called that gal a bitch, too.’

  ‘Wonder who it was,’ Cora said.

  ‘Wonder what Hardin did to her,’ Finley said. ‘Pretty weird, bringing someone up here at night.’

  ‘Maybe it was her girlfriend,’ Helen suggested.

  ‘Yeah, brought her up here to mess around.’

  ‘Come on,’ Abilene said. ‘She has a house or apartment or something. Why would she bring anyone here? Probably just some poor slob she caught chewing gum.’

  ‘Pour some more,’ Cora said.

  Finley refilled the glasses. With ice, a lot of tequila, and a dab of lemonade.

  Already, Abilene’s cheeks were feeling a trifle numb. ‘We’re gonna get juiced,’ she warned.

  ‘That’s the point, Hickok.’

  ‘Hickok?’ Abilene asked.

  ‘You know, Wild Bill. James Butler. The guy that cleaned up Abilene.’

  ‘He didn’t clean up me.’

  ‘You sure know your history,’ Vivian said, grinning crookedly at Finley.

  ‘I’m a whizz kid.’

  ‘Speaking of whizz,’ Helen said, ‘Hardin didn’t have any paper in her stall.’

  ‘I figured she was gonna come over to mine,’ Abilene said, ‘and that’d be it. But she didn’t. She didn’t wipe.’

  ‘You lie.’

  ‘Or flush,’ Helen added.

  ‘Or wash her hands.’

  ‘A real hog.’

  ‘A bitch,’ Finley said. ‘Maybe she licked herself clean.’

  ‘Disgusting!’ Vivian blurted.

  ‘And she wants us to be proper young ladies,’ Cora said.

  ‘Which we are,’ Finley said. She reached into one of the bags and lifted out a stack of magazines. She passed some of them around.

  Abilene set down her drink and leafed through the magazine Finley had given her. Its pages featured photographs of naked men. They had oiled, shiny skin. They had bulging muscles. They had big penises.

  Helen stepped closer and looked. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Wanta trade?’

  Helen’s magazine showed women posing with their legs spread wide. They were licking their lips, caressing themselves. Many of them had no pubic hair. One had a fingertip buried in her vagina. Some of the photos showed two or three women together, biting and squeezing and licking each other.

  ‘Raunchy stuff,’ Vivian commented.

  ‘Terrific,’ said Cora. ‘Look at the schlong on this guy.’ She turned her magazine around and showed them a full-page picture.

  ‘I wouldn’t let him near me with a ten-foot pole,’ Abilene said.

  ‘That is a ten-foot pole,’ Finley remarked, laughing. Then she dug into the sack and pulled out some rolls of tape. ‘Enough ogling the bods,’ she said. ‘Let’s get to work.’

  They filled their glasses again. Laughing, sipping, sharing their discoveries of particularly outlandish photos, making return trips to the desk for chips and refills, they spent the next twenty minutes tearing pages from the magazines and taping them all over Hardin’s office. They taped pictures to the sides of the desk, to the chairs, to the door and walls and filing cabinets and bookshelves, to the window blinds. Cora, standing atop the desk, even papered a portion of the ceiling.

  ‘I thing thas enough,’ Vivian finally said. She tossed the tattered remains of a magazine onto the desk and turned around slowly, admiring their work.

  Turning around did it.

  Her face went ashen and slack. She staggered backward, waving her arms. ‘Oh my God,’ she muttered. Her rump hit the floor. Groaning, she lay down. ‘Spinning,’ she said.

  Helen crouched beside her. ‘Are you…?’

  ‘Oh my Gah…’ Vivian flipped over, thrust herself to her hands and knees, and vomited.

  ‘Gross out!’ Finley called, and rushed for her camera.

  Before she could lift it off the desk, Cora grabbed it. ‘Leave her in peace.’

  Vivian finished, and crawled away from the mess she’d made on the carpet.

  Abilene patted her back. ‘Are you okay?’

  She moaned.

  ‘We’d better get out of here.’ Abilene and Helen helped the girl to her feet. ‘Can you walk?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I’m ogay.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  They waited for Cora to finish writing something on a sheet of letterhead she’d taken from Hardin’s desk.

  Then they followed her into the secretary’s office, turning off Hardin’s lights and closing her door. Leaving behind the grocery sacks, empty glasses and bottles and chip bags, a swollen plastic bag of melting ice cubes, tom magazines, the vast photo gallery of naked men and women, and a puddle of vomit.

  To the outside of Hardin’s door, Cora taped the note. Abilene lit it with her flashlight. In bold printing, it read, KEEP OUT. THIS MEANS EYERYONE, CUSTODIANS INCLUDED. I WILL NOT HAVE MY SANCTUARY VIOLATED. Scribbled beneath the message was: M. Hardin, Dean of Women.

  ‘Give me that,’ Cora said.

  Abilene handed the flashlight to her. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘You’ll see.’ She stepped behind the secretary’s desk. She shone the bright beam on the Rolodex. Flipped through the cards. ‘Here we are.’

  She picked up the phone and tapped in a series of numbers. ‘Oh my God,’ Vivian mumbled.

  ‘You’re not!�
�� Abilene gasped.

  Finley started to laugh.

  Helen groaned.

  ‘Hello?’ Cora said into the phone. Making her voice low and husky. ‘Never mind who this is, you tight-ass bitch. I’m calling, to give you a friendly warning. Stop eatin’ all that fuckin’ chili. The more you eat, the more you toot. Bye-bye for now.’

  They were on their way downstairs when a door clamored.

  Abilene’s stomach dropped. Her heart thundered. Vivian clung to her, and she could feel the girl shaking.

  They all stood motionless.

  Heard footsteps, men talking loudly in Spanish.

  Slowly, the sounds faded.

  Abilene let out her breath.

  Cora crept down the rest of the stairs and peeked into the corridor. The others waited. At last, she waved them to follow.

  She held the door open for them and eased it silently shut when they were out.

  All the way to the sidewalk at the border of the campus, Abilene glanced around, terrified of being spotted. But she saw no one.

  ‘We dood it,’ Finley said.

  ***

  Afterward, they spent a lot of time laughing about their adventure. And more time worrying. Abilene half expected Hardin to order the entire student body fingerprinted.

  But it never happened.

  Word never leaked out about what had happened to Hardin’s office.

  At first, they wondered if die custodians had entered the office in spite of the note. Maybe they couldn’t read English. Maybe they simply ignored the message, entered, and cleaned up everything.

  But the next afternoon, they saw Hardin in the student union. She sat alone at a table, sipping coffee, glaring at everyone, studying faces.

  While she was busy eyeing a trio of laughing jocks, Finley taped her.

  ‘I bet she thinks guys did it,’ Helen whispered.

  ‘Thinks gals wouldn’t have the nerve,’ Cora said.

  ‘What a sexist,’ Vivian said.

  Still glowering at the boys, Hardin lifted a hand. With her thumb and forefinger, she stroked her thin lower lip.

  Abilene grinned. ‘I wonder when was the last time she washed her hands.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  It was Abilene’s idea that they move the Wagoneer to the side of the lodge, where it would be out of sight in case anyone should drive up from the road. Cops, teenagers looking for a place to make out, anyone might come along. It just wouldn’t be smart to give away their presence by leaving the car out front. The others agreed. But Cora suggested they unload it first.

  ‘I don’t think we should,’ Abilene said. ‘Why don’t we leave everything in the car - use it like a base camp?’

  ‘That’s a lot of trouble,’ Cora said.

  ‘What if we have to make a quick getaway?’

  ‘You worry too much.’

  ‘We’ve already had one visitor,’ Vivian said.

  ‘If we need to take off fast,’ Abilene continued, ‘we don’t want to be messing around with our luggage.’

  ‘Or leaving it behind,’ Vivian said.

  ‘Why don’t we keep the car packed and ready to roll? Just take in whatever we really need.’

  ‘Makes sense to me,’ Finley said.

  ‘So what do we do,’ Cora asked, ‘troop back and forth to the car every time we want to change clothes?’

  ‘That’s the general idea.’

  ‘Sheesh.’ She picked up her bundle of clothes.

  After stowing the ice chest and the box of drinks and snacks in the rear of the Wagoneer, they all climbed in. Helen drove to the north end of the lodge. There, the lane of cracked concrete slanted downward.

  As Helen steered toward the slope, Cora said, ‘Hold it. Everyone’s so worried about quick escapes, maybe you oughta go down tail first.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Abilene said.

  Helen moaned as if she didn’t care much for the plan. But she swung away from the slope, drove forward to the edge of the pavement, then slowly backed her way down past the end of the porch, past the corner of the lodge.

  ‘That’s good enough,’ Cora said.

  She set the emergency brake, shifted to Park, and killed the engine.

  They had a hard time pushing open their doors. Once they were out, gravity dropped the doors shut.

  Vivian tugged hers open again, apparently just to see if she could. From the look on her face, it wasn’t easy. ‘Oh, yeah,’ she muttered. ‘This’ll be great for speedy getaways. One of us could lose a foot.’

  ‘At least it’s hidden,’ Abilene said.

  They lurched downhill to the rear of the car. Beyond it, Abilene saw the rows of windows that had lighted one corner of the inside pool in such a grand fashion. She could see the ends of both porches. And the north side of the grounds, including the swimming pool with its diving boards and slide. She gazed along the edge of the forest. She saw nobody.

  Helen opened the tailgate.

  ‘I don’t know about you guys,’ Finley said, ‘but I gotta take a leak.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Maybe we should all take care of it,’ Vivian suggested.

  Helen crawled into the car. She came out with a roll of toilet paper. She tore off strips and handed them around.

  Abilene held up a hand as if refusing. ‘I’ll just use the Hardin method,’ she said.

  ‘Hog!’

  Laughing, she took the offered paper.

  They wandered into the woods, fanned out, and returned to the car when they were done.

  ‘Okay,’ Abilene said. ‘Let’s get to it’

  ‘And what will we be allowed to take with us?’ Cora asked.

  ‘Dinner and the stove,’ Helen said.

  ‘The booze,’ Finley added.

  ‘Flashlights,’ Abilene said. ‘And the lantern. It’ll be dark before long.’

  ‘If we don’t hurry,’ Vivian said, ‘we’ll be cooking in the dark.’

  Leaning against the side of the car, Cora stepped into her panties and shorts. She joined the others at the rear, tossed her socks and bra toward the back seat, and helped with the unloading.

  ‘Where do we want to make dinner?’ Abilene asked.

  ‘In the kitchen?’ Finley said.

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘This kind of stove isn’t safe to use indoors,’ Helen pointed out.

  ‘Maybe we should cook out front on the driveway,’ Vivian said. ‘The black’s too exposed, you know? And that’s where the kid went.’

  ‘You and the kid,’ Cora muttered. ‘My God, we just moved the car so it couldn’t be seen from the front, and you want to make supper there?’

  ‘I don’t think it would hurt to cook inside,’ Abilene said. ‘With so many broken windows, there isn’t much danger of the fumes getting us.’

  Finley nodded. ‘Yeah. Let’s do it civilized indoors.’

  They carried the boxes and equipment up the slope and entered the lodge by its front door. The faint light from the windows left the lobby in deep gloom. They put down their loads. Cora crouched over the Coleman lantern. Soon, its gas was hissing loudly, its twin mantles glaring behind the glass chimney. By the stark pale brightness of the lantern, they lit the gas stove and prepared a simple dinner of hot dogs.

  They sat on the floor in a circle, sipping margaritas as they ate the franks.

  ‘A good, healthy meal,’ Vivian said.

  ‘At least it was easy,’ Abilene said. ‘Sometimes, I think I spend half my life cooking.’

  ‘The other half doing dishes,’ Helen added.

  ‘Doesn’t Harris help out?’ Cora asked. ‘Tony and I take turns with all the chores.’

  ‘Both of you work, though,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Going for a Ph.D. isn’t work?’

  ‘I’m home a lot. He doesn’t get in till about six. I like to have something nice waiting for him.’

  ‘I do all the cooking, too,’ Helen said.

  ‘Whatever happened to women’s lib?’ Cora asked.<
br />
  ‘The guys who go in for it are all a bunch of wooses,’ Finley said.

  ‘You saying Tony’s a woos?’

  ‘Hell, you’d probably beat him up if he gave you any crap about sharing chores.’

  ‘That’s a good one,’ Abilene said. Tony, a physical education teacher and football coach at the same high school where Cora taught girls’ P.E. and coached basketball, outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. As strong as Cora was, a fight between the two would be no contest.

  ‘He never gives me any trouble,’ Cora said. ‘He likes to cook.’

  ‘We should’ve brought him along,’ Helen said.

  ‘If you didn’t want to spend your life cooking,’ Finley told her, ‘you shouldn’t have gotten oiarried.’

  ‘Don’t you eat?’ Helen asked.

  ‘Not at home, that’s for sure. Hardly ever, anyway. I usually have a big lunch at the studio or on location - whatever. Then I go somewhere for Happy Hour. The places I go, you get all sorts of free food with your drinks. Potato skins, buffalo wings, meatballs, all that good stuff.’

  ‘You have that instead of dinner?’ Helen asked, grinning. ‘Hey, it’s great. And I usually go out with guys a few times a week.’

  ‘Anyone special?’ Abilene asked.

  Finley grinned. ‘They’re all special.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I like variety,’ she said, and chomped down on her hot dog. ‘But wouldn’t you like to settle down and get married, have kids?’

  ‘Barf,’ she said through her hot dog. ‘Who needs it?’

  ‘Right on,’ Cora said. ‘The beginning of the end.’

  ‘Is not,’ Abilene said.

  ‘Are you telling me you like being tied down?’

  ‘I’m not “tied down.” ’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘My God, Cora, you’ve got a good job. Tony’s a terrific guy…’

  ‘He cooks for you,’ Helen pointed out.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Abilene asked.

  ‘It’s all a big bore, that’s the problem. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love Tony. We get along great. We do stuff on our time off.’ She shook her head. ‘It just isn’t enough. Where’s the excitement, you know?’

  ‘That’s what we’re here for,’ Finley told her.

  ‘Exactly.’