Sintown Chronicles III: In Dark Corners

by David O. Dyer, Sr.

  "You bid agin Tim Dollar and you won't have to worry none about building any more of his houses. He'll drop you quicker than a baked potato right out of the oven."

  Both men laughed and Cliff toed the ground.

  "Who are you, young fella?” Green asked.

  "Cliff Baker,” Cliff replied, extending his hand. “I'm a friend of Julie Wilson. I'm sort of looking after the place for her until she decides what to do with it."

  "Looks to me like she's done decided,” Green said, eyeing Cliff warily. “Funny she didn't mention you to me. Where was you fellas when I drove up?"

  "Mr. Elliott was good enough to check out the structural safety of the buildings for Julie,” Cliff explained. “We were looking at her daddy's old house when you arrived."

  "Yeah, she said something about a house being three or four miles off the highway. How do you get there? I suppose I should have a look."

  "I can save you some time,” Carl quickly replied. “It's a death trap. Roof is caving in and the foundation is about ready to do the same. I told Cliff the best thing Miss Julie can do is let the volunteer fire department use it for practice."

  "Too bad,” Green said, easing towards his car. “A nice house would make the land more attractive to prospective buyers.” He pulled a large sign attached to a metal stake from the trunk of his car. “Reckon I'll drive this sucker in the ground beside the road and be on my way."

  "I need to make tracks too, Cliff. I'll talk with you later."

  Cliff shook Carl's hand, and, noting the warning in Carl's expression, simply said, “Thanks for everything, Mr. Elliott."

  He watched Carl drive away and chuckled as he noticed Creasy Green wrestling with the sign. “Let me help you with that,” he shouted.

  Cliff held the sign while the Santa Claus shaped salesman pounded away with a small hammer. “Mr. Green, I spent all day yesterday cleaning up the motel apartment so I can live in it for a few weeks. I'm afraid in the process I threw out Julie's telephone number in Charleston. Would you happen to have it?"

  Green's face was bright red and he was wheezing badly. Cliff took the hammer from him to finish the job as Green said, “Yeah. I think I have it in the car someplace."

  After Green's departure, Cliff stretched out on the bed to rest a few minutes, feeling smug about the subterfuge that gained Julie's telephone number. He woke up in the middle of the afternoon, jumped in his truck and headed for the Korner Kafe.

  He found Maggie in her office. “Mrs. Bennett, I have a huge favor to ask."

  Maggie pushed back from her desk. “Cliff, in Dot everybody is on a first name basis."

  He grinned. “Okay, Maggie."

  "What do you need, Cliff?"

  "As I told you, I am staying at the old motel and looking after things for Julie. Something has come up and I need to call her in Charleston. I don't have a telephone. I know I could use a pay phone, but it's a pain in the butt to feed the thing coins and I hate to call Julie collect. I was wondering if I could use your telephone. I'll pay you for the call, of course."

  Maggie stood, still smiling. “Don't make it a habit, Cliff.” She headed for the office door. Cliff settled into the desk chair and dialed the number.

  "What!"

  Cliff laughed. “That's a strange way to answer the phone. This is Cliff."

  Julie paused before continuing. “Sorry. I'm a little stressed out right now. What's on your mind?"

  "Your land, your dad's businesses, the old house. Julie, I've spent the morning with a contractor. You have a gold mine in that land. You don't want to sell."

  "I don't want to hear it, Cliff,” she said irritably. “I have all on my plate I can handle. My agent has landed the biggest deal of my career, but it requires a massive amount of work and I have less than two weeks to complete it. On top of that, I received a letter saying they won't renew my apartment lease. I have to find another place to live."

  "Damn, that's tough, but Pretty Lady, this is important. Just listen to me for five minutes."

  "Not now, Cliff. Whatever it is, it'll keep."

  "But Julie..."

  "Clyde, are you hard of hearing? I said not now!"

  Cliff fumbled for words.

  "Cliff?"

  "Yeah."

  "You call all women ‘Pretty Lady’ but you said you think I really am pretty. I thought it was just a line to get me naked, but I gave you that opportunity and you didn't seize it. The assignment I have is to illustrate some of the ladies clothing that Wal-Mart features. Cliff do you think that I..."

  "Think what, Pretty Lady?"

  Her voice was so soft he strained to understand what she was saying. “Would new clothes help? Do you think there is anything I can do to actually become an attractive woman?"

  "Yes,” he replied with kindness in his voice. “Yes, I do."

  "I mean something other than buy a new mirror and have an eye exam."

  "Julie, all you need is an attitude adjustment. You don't need fancy clothes and gaudy makeup. You just need to admit to yourself that you have an attractive, unique physique unmatched by any other woman in the world."

  "Are you sure you didn't go to college and major in psychology?"

  "Julie, please let me tell you what I have discovered about your land."

  "Cliff, try to understand. I don't want anything else on my mind right now."

  "You think you might be willing to listen tomorrow?"

  "Back off, Cliff. Hey, I just thought of something you can do for me."

  "Name it."

  "The advertising agency I am under subcontract with is ... wait, I have it here somewhere. Uh, here it is. It's the Holder Advertising Agency. They're located in Dot but I don't know where the office is. I am working on four separate ads. Go by there, explain my situation, and see if they'll give me an extension."

  "I'll ... I'll do what I can. Julie, I'm sorry."

  "It's okay. You just didn't understand. When I get these two monkeys off my back, we'll talk about the land."

  "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry I didn't finish what I started in your motel room."

  There was a long pause before Julie responded. “Changed your mind, did you? You said the first time should be with someone I love."

  "Pretty Lady, do you think ... never mind. I'll try to find this agency and call you later. Goodbye."

  Stupid ass, he thought, his hand still on the telephone receiver lying in its cradle. There's no way she'll ever love you. You're from the wrong side of the tracks; you're uneducated and just too damn young.

  Maggie told Cliff that the Holder Advertising Agency was located in the Dollar Building and that the telephone office was in the same building as the Post Office. Installation of the telephone was promised for the next day. Rita Holder was not as sympathetic as he had hoped, but she did agree to give Julie one extra week if the first two ads were submitted on time.

  As Cliff headed back to the Korner Kafe, his face brightened. That's a great idea, he thought. I know she'll go for it.

  Chapter Six

  Julie hung up the telephone and allowed herself a moment of reflection. Change of attitude, indeed, she thought. That would require a brain transplant. I wish I could crawl into Cliff's mind—any man's mind. What is it about a woman that turns a man on? That's easy enough to answer—big boobs!

  She pushed back from the desk, returned to her easel and paged through the day's rough sketches, comparing them to the flyer storyboards. She knew she was on the right track for the first two inserts. Should she work on rough drafts for the last two inserts or get started on detail art? She didn't want to do either.

  Julie hated herself at times like this. There was so much work to do and so little time to do it. From past experience she knew there was no point in remaining at the easel, hoping the creative juices would soon flow. The faucet was off.

  She moved to the worktable and shuffled through the photographs she was supposed to turn into creative line drawings and watercolors. Maybe it would help
if I saw some of these things in person, she thought. Besides, I need to swing by the complex office.

  While driving to the Sunrise Tower office, Julie rehearsed a speech in which she would beg for a few week's leniency in vacating her apartment, but as she stood before the double glass doors, she took a big breath and resolved that if a polite explanation did not yield the desired result, she would kick some butt. She grinned as she approached the receptionist. Dad was a mild mannered man, she reminded herself, but he could raise hell when he needed to. So can I.

  "May I help you?” the receptionist asked.

  The young woman's friendly manner surprised Julie. “I've been out of town for over three weeks. My dad was critically ill and passed away. When I got home last night, this letter was in the mail."

  The receptionist glanced at the letter Julie placed on her desk, obviously recognizing it.

  "I am a freelance artist with a critical assignment due in two weeks. I just don't have time to find a new apartment and move. Isn't..."

  The woman held up her hand, picked up the telephone and punched a button. “Mr. Bondurant, there is a tenant here with a complaint about the lease renewal notice. Could you possibly see her now?” There was a pause and the receptionist said, “Thank you."

  The sympathetic woman smiled, stood and led Julie to an office door.

  "Pete Bondurant,” the gray-haired man said as he greeted Julie with a handshake. “Please come in."

  Taking the offered chair, Julie explained her plight. Bondurant returned to his desk and rustled papers. “Apartment 36G?” he asked.

  Julie nodded.

  "Would an extra month help?"

  "You mean it?"

  His eyes remained on the desktop and his index finder ran down the lines of a spreadsheet. “Yes, ma'am. We can work with that.” He reached into the middle letter tray on the corner of his desk, pulled out a single page document and scribbled on it. Looking up at Julie, who was now standing on the opposite side of the desk, he said, “I'm sorry about the inconvenience we're causing everybody. There's just nothing we can do about it."

  "This will be a big help,” Julie gushed. “How much do I owe you?"

  "No charge,” Bondurant said with a gentle smile on his lips. “That's not a very good business decision, but it will help me sleep better at night."

  Julie felt as if a great weight had been removed from her shoulders and she sang along with the Cavalier radio as she drove to Wal-Mart. She hummed happily while browsing through the ladies clothing section. She held up an embroidered blouse and gasped audibly when her eyes fell on the shopper across from her.

  The woman's green eyes locked on hers. “Is something wrong?"

  "I ... I'm sorry,” Julie said. “Please excuse me for staring. It's just that ... for a moment there I thought I was looking into a mirror. We have the same eye and hair color, the same height and build. We could be twins except that..."

  "Except what?” the woman asked, chuckling.

  Julie replaced the blouse and kept her eyes down. “Except that you're beautiful and I look like something the cat dragged home."

  The woman smiled and walked around the table. “Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

  Julie avoided eye contact while nodding. The woman was wearing the shortest skirt Julie had ever seen and her long legs were wrapped in black hose. Shiny black pumps adorned her tiny feet.

  "Ma'am, I don't mean to be insulting, but I'll bet your bosom is no larger than mine, and yet..."

  The woman laughed. “My name is Allison Thomas. My friends call me Ally."

  "Julie Wilson."

  "Do you really consider yourself unattractive?"

  Julie tried to laugh. “Isn't it obvious? I have a friend who says I need glasses or a new mirror, but he's just being kind."

  Ally's expression became serious. “If you don't like the reflection in the mirror, it won't help to clean the glass—you have to change the image."

  Julie nodded. “How can I change the image? I don't have much to work with."

  "Julie, it's all in the way you display your charms. My blouse, for instance, does not cling, but hangs just right. It announces to the world that I have small but tantalizing breasts and the way it pops open from the neck to the bust line allows any guy who's interested to have a nice little, discrete peek."

  "You must spend a fortune on clothes."

  Ally again chuckled. “Everything I'm wearing came from right here at Wal-Mart."

  "Would you ... would you help me pick out some things?"

  Ally glanced at her wristwatch. “Sure. I have a couple of hours free. What are you interested in?"

  "I'm interested in looking like you."

  Ally smiled sympathetically. “I mean what items of clothing are you interested in?"

  "Everything."

  "Everything? From the skin out?"

  Julie nodded.

  "Then I need to know what we're working with.” She glanced over her shoulder, nodded and headed for a dressing room with Julie obediently following.

  Closing the dressing room door behind them, Ally turned to Julie. “Let's see what you look like in your birthday suit."

  Julie gasped while clamping her hand over her mouth.

  "I'm not going to bite,” Ally joked.

  "I ... I just can't do it."

  "Look honey,” Ally said, “I'm not a lesbian. This was your idea."

  "I ... I can't take my clothes off in front of you."

  Ally shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.” She reached for the door.

  "Wait. I'll ... I'll do it."

  Julie's fingers trembled as she pulled the turtleneck over her head. She turned her back while her fingers searched for the clasp of her bra between prominent shoulder blades, hoping Ally would not see wadded tissues fall from the much too large cups. When she unsnapped the fastener on her slacks, they slid to her feet before she could slide down the zipper. When Julie stepped out of her panties, she knew her skin was flaming red from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

  Ally examined Julie as if she were a priceless statue, turning her this way and that. Julie shuddered when Ally's fingers tightened on her bony shoulders.

  "This is going to be easy,” Ally said, sitting on a stool in the corner. “You have a lovely figure. Slip your things back on, Julie. It's time to begin shopping."

  While Julie dressed, Ally softly offered her assessment. “You want to emphasize your strengths, and you have many. Your long legs are shaped perfectly and your skin is smooth and without blemish. Your breasts are a little larger than mine are, and your thick nipples give you a big advantage over me in that department. It looks like what Mother Nature withheld from one part of your breasts she added to another. Believe me, with a bra that doesn't hide those jewels and the right blouse, male heads will turn every time you walk into a room."

  "I wish I could believe you."

  "I'll bet your boyfriend goes nuts over your large outer labia."

  "I ... I don't have a boyfriend. Never have."

  Julie grinned. “You will after I get through with you."

  For thirty minutes, the two women happily filled a shopping cart. Without warning, Ally placed her hand on Julie's cheek. “You know what, honey? We need to pay some attention to your headbone."

  Julie snickered. “Headbone?"

  "One of my dad's expressions."

  "Are you close to your dad?"

  "Was. He passed away a couple of years ago."

  "My dad died this week. We were close also. What were you saying about my headbone?"

  "Your face is a little long, Julie. You have beautiful shoulder-length hair, but it seems pasted to your scalp. A trim, a bit of a curl and a perm to make it fuller will give a more proportional look. I love your full eyebrows, but they need a little shaping. A touch of mascara will bring out those gorgeous green eyes and lip gloss will highlight your sensuous lips."

  "You think I have sensuous lips?"

  Ally lau
ghed. “Believe me, I'm not coming on to you. Look, my sister runs a beauty parlor just down the street. Let me make a call. I'll bet she'll work you in this afternoon. She owes me."

  "What about my clothes?"

  "Give me your credit card. I'll finish shopping while you get the works."

  Julie frowned.

  "Oops. You're right. You don't know me from Adam's housecat. I'll put everything on my card and you can write me a check."

  The call and appointment were made. The finishing touches were being applied when Ally walked into the beauty parlor. “You look fantastic, Julie!"

  "Your sister is more than a beautician. She's a gifted plastic surgeon. I feel like a new woman."

  Julie paid for the transformation and accompanied Ally to the parking lot. As they transferred sixteen bags of clothing from Ally's car to the Cavalier, Julie said, “Ally, I can't thank you enough. I don't mean to be crude, but let me pay you for your time and advice."

  Ally laughed. “A hundred million dollars would be about right, but I'll settle for a steak."

  "You're on."

  "First,” Ally said, reaching deep into the trunk of her car for the last package, “go back into the beauty parlor and put on some of your new duds."

  Julie admired her image in the bathroom mirror as she clipped on the silver earrings Ally bought for her. She liked the thin silver necklace, barely visible where her blouse popped open. Do I dare go out in public wearing this skirt? Julie asked herself. It barely covers my crotch and there is no way I can sit down without showing off these red panties. God, they feel good—like a second layer of skin.

  After the hostess seated them, Ally leaned forward and whispered, “Want to have some fun?"

  "Sure."

  "When the waiter comes to take our order, lean forward, show him a little boobie flesh and keep your eyes on his crotch. I'll pay for dinner if he doesn't have an erection in your honor."

  "You're on,” Julie said, watching the young man approach.

  "Good evening, ladies. My name is Kevin and I'll be your waiter tonight. May I suggest the Cornish hen? It is simply fabulous."

  Julie leaned forward. “What do you think, Ally? Cornish hen or tenderloin?"

  Ally snickered. “I'm in the mood for some real meat. Bring me a T-bone."