Sintown Chronicles III: In Dark Corners

by David O. Dyer, Sr.

  His hands played with her stomach as he chuckled. “I've had women come on to me that didn't interest me, if that's what you mean."

  "No. I'm talking about a woman in whom you are very interested, but the timing is not right."

  "No. Wait ... there was one time. God, how embarrassing."

  "She was very sympathetic, wasn't she?"

  "Well, she pretended to be but she never dated me again."

  "You men have a real advantage over us women in that respect. If you aren't aroused, you absolutely can't perform. With a woman, a little lubricant and she appears ready at a moment's notice."

  "That may be true, but if a man does not get aroused, the woman takes it as an insult."

  "And I suppose the reverse is also true, but it shouldn't be. Like they say, there's a time and place for everything."

  "I get the message."

  "Now, don't start pouting again. I'm just not in the mood at the moment. That doesn't mean I won't be ten minutes from now."

  Nathan nibbled her shoulder. “Tell me what I can do to speed things up."

  "Buckshot, I want you to listen to my ‘what if.’”

  He dropped his hands and leaned back against the tub.

  "I don't think you can change, Nathan, but maybe I can."

  "I ... I don't want you to change."

  "I think you do. I'm pretty headstrong and so are you. I'm highly competitive, and so are you. We're both talented in certain areas and it wounds your masculine pride when you think I've outperformed you."

  "How about you, Jodi? If I whipped your butt every time we engage in a contest, what would be your reaction?"

  Jodi twisted her head so he could see the facetious expression on her face. “I don't know. I've never encountered such an experience."

  "What's your point?"

  "Perhaps I can become the permissive wimp you seem to want. If I can roll strikes, I can certainly throw gutter balls. I can hit a golf ball into sand traps and into the rough more easily than I can stay in the fairway. I can make sure you always win."

  "Let's see how that would work,” he said, trying to sound serious. “We're fishing on the pier. I'm catching baitfish and you're doing your best to catch nothing. Suddenly a big blue strikes. How are you going to fake that?"

  "Easy,” she said. “First, I'll fish without bait. If that doesn't work, I'll tell you I snagged my hook on something and cut the line."

  "No you wouldn't. You'd haul that sucker in and be pissed with me if I didn't brag on the size of your catch."

  "Perhaps I should fish without hooks."

  "You wouldn't throw gutter balls or intentionally drive a ball into the woods either."

  "I could try."

  "And be miserable.” Trying not to appear angry, Nathan sloshed his way around her and settled at the opposite end of the WhirlPool, facing her. “And I'd be miserable too."

  "Opposites attract, Nathan, and we're too much alike."

  He wedged his foot between her legs and gently stroked the area between. “We're opposite enough,” he grinned. “I don't have one of those."

  She smiled while weighing her breasts. “Or these. Nate, the sex is good. It couldn't be better—for me at least—but a relationship needs much more."

  "I agree but I don't want you to change, Jodi. The real Jodi is the girl I fell..."

  Jodi laughed a little too loud and, as his face colored, said, “I'm the girl you fell in ‘like’ with?"

  "Yeah ... something like that. What I was trying to say is, uh, maybe it's time I grow up."

  "I never said your behavior is childish."

  "I don't want you to change, but damn it, I'm going to beat you at something sooner or later or die trying. What pleasure would a victory give me if I know the outcome is rigged?"

  She shook her head. “You're hopeless! Come here and let me scrub your back."

  Nathan sloshed water over the side of the tub and settled between her outstretched legs.

  "I'm serious, Nate. If I can become submissive I think we might have a shot at a decent relationship."

  "And I think if you become submissive, I'll kick your butt out the door. Maybe we should just be friends, Jodi."

  She pressed her breasts against his back, reached between his legs and felt him grow inside her closed fist. “I don't think that would work either,” she snickered.

  "Let's change the subject. Where would you like to eat tonight?"

  "I want a big, thick..."

  "You're holding it in you hand."

  "...steak."

  "Oh. There are some great steak restaurants in Myrtle Beach."

  "I saw a Western Steer this morning just a few miles from here. In fact, it's across the street from Smilin’ Ed's."

  "Then Western Steer it is."

  "Nathan?"

  "Yes?"

  "Is your new computer program a game?"

  "No."

  "Well, what is it?"

  "You wouldn't be interested."

  "I asked, didn't I?"

  "You remember I told you my claim to fame was a program used by banks?"

  Jodi rested her cheek between his shoulder blades and nodded.

  "Basically it's a financial program used internally."

  "Okay.” Her hands traveled to the upper bulge of his hard buttocks.

  "Now all the banks are racing to find or create programs for their customers to use for home banking."

  "I thought they already have them."

  "They do, but they're not satisfactory to the customer—too many secret codes to remember and the programs themselves are not intuitive. Banks would pay a fortune to have a program that is all-inclusive, secure and user friendly."

  She kissed the back of his neck as she clutched his hips. “And that's what you're working on?"

  "Yeah. It's not as easy as it sounds."

  "Is security the main problem?"

  "It's a whopper. The best available systems can be broken and customers just don't trust them."

  "Why do banks want customer transactions on-line?"

  "If they can ever find a system that works, it will save them tons of money."

  She nibbled his ear and whispered, “Have you tried voice recognition?"

  "What?"

  "Forget it."

  "No, I won't forget it,” he said excitedly as he twisted his body so he could see her face. “You said voice recognition. What's going on in that beautiful brain of yours?"

  "I'm out of my league, here, Nathan."

  "Maybe not. Tell me, damn it."

  "Well, I've heard that they don't work very well, but there are voice recognition word processor programs available."

  "Yeah."

  "And I think I've heard that a voiceprint is as unique as a fingerprint."

  "It is?"

  "I ... maybe not."

  Nathan sloshed to his knees, turned and crushed her to him. “Baby, I love you! I absolutely adore you!"

  As he scrambled towards the bathroom door, Jodi called after him. “Hold on, Buckshot. The ten minute waiting period is up."

  He paused and grinned at her. “Jodi, did you ever have a man want to make love to you but you were not ready?"

  Jodi shook her head. “Dry yourself off, Nate. You're dripping all over the floor.” She relaxed and leaned back against the smooth finish of the tub. Her body tingled. You did it, Nate. You just gave me a huge compliment! You also used the L word, but I'm sure you didn't mean it.

  * * * *

  "You're not pouting again, are you?” Jodi asked as she picked up the pitcher and filled his glass with draft beer.

  He smiled sheepishly. “You caught me gathering a little wool."

  "Mind on the computer program?"

  He nodded while chewing a bite of tenderloin. “My browser came up with hundreds of documents on the Internet concerning voiceprints. It'll take a long time to study them all and weed out the wheat from the chaff."

  "I'm sorry,” Jodi replied, spreading butter on a y
east roll.

  He smiled. “That's the good news."

  "What's the bad news?"

  Nathan added a puddle of A1 Sauce to his plate. “I'm committed to write five more game manuals."

  "Just tell them you've changed your mind."

  He shook his head while watching her cut a small bite of her T-bone. “I can't do that. I gave them my word."

  "Ah,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, “a man of integrity."

  "I never go back on my word,” he said seriously. “Besides, I signed a contract."

  She laughed. “I think that's called enforced integrity."

  "If it turns out you're right about voiceprints, I'll have to learn to write voice recognition code."

  "Ouch!"

  "That's fun. It may take a while, but I'll enjoy it."

  "Let's assume voiceprints are unique and you write a successful program. Won't the cost to the customer be prohibitive?” Jodi asked as she dipped a fork into her salad.

  "Are you trying to rain on my parade?” he joked. “Many computers today come with built-in speakers and microphones. Even if the customer has to add this hardware, it's just a couple hundred dollars."

  "Still, the run-of-the-mill customer like me would turn thumbs down on the cost."

  Nate watched Jodi's slim throat move as she sipped her beer. “The banks could provide both the hardware and software as a loan or lease option."

  "They give the software away now, but then tack on a service charge to the customer's account."

  "And that's stupid. On-line banking is a nice option for the customer, but it's a financial gold mine for the banks. They should pick up the cost."

  "You may have a hard time selling that idea."

  He grinned. “When I show the industry what my program can do for them, they'll go for it."

  "I'm seeing a whole new side of Nathan Watson,” she said.

  "Oh?"

  "You're excited. You're confident. I like it!"

  * * * *

  "I'm sorry,” Jodi said as the wind tousled her hair.

  "Why don't you join the tour?"

  "I tried to throw gutter balls. I swear I did. You were right. I just couldn't do it."

  "At least I was competitive tonight."

  "You sure were,” Jodi said as she changed lanes to pass a sightseer. “Especially during the last game."

  "Nine pins is still nine pins,” he grumbled.

  "Your mind was elsewhere, tonight. If you'd been concentrating, you'd have beaten me easily."

  "I was concentrating and I'm trying my best not to sulk. Just drive the damn car and hush."

  Jodi laughed and patted his thigh. “Four delicious, scantily clad dolls were bowling in the lane next to us and you never even glanced their way."

  "You're kidding."

  "Like I said, your mind was on something else tonight."

  "Maybe it was, but on the other hand, perhaps I was concentrating on my bowling, like I said."

  "Is it going to be this way until you've finished the program? No more walks, no golf, no bowling?"

  "No. The longer I sit at the keyboard, the less I accomplish. I must take frequent breaks to refuel the brain cells—what few of them I have. I need to make a ‘to do’ list. That's how I function best. Once I have a definite plan, I'll be okay."

  "I worked for a man once who was a slave to his ‘to do’ list. That was the most miserable man I've ever known. If something came up that prevented him from checking off every item on his list, he just about went bananas."

  "I know the feeling, but I found a way around that."

  "Oh?"

  "I not only prioritize my lists, but also have as my daily top priority the unexpected."

  "You actually write that down?"

  "And check it off, just like the other items on my list."

  "How detailed do you make your schedule?"

  "Well, let's see. First, there'll be ‘wake up', then ‘make love to Jodi,’ then ‘dress and shave,’ then ‘make love to Jodi,’ then ‘exercise, eat breakfast, make love to Jodi,’ then..."

  "I love it when you're excited. I suggest that, instead of one of those love making sessions, the first item of business in the morning should be the creation of that schedule."

  "Nope. I'm going to do it tonight. In the morning we're going shopping."

  "For what?” she asked as she turned into their nearly hidden driveway.

  "Furniture and computer equipment. I'm going to turn the spare room into a study."

  "Why do you need another study?"

  "It's not for me."

  Jodi eased to a stop beside his Taurus. “Who then?"

  "Jodi, will you write the game manuals for me?"

  His eyes were pleading with her for an affirmative answer. “Nate, I've never written anything more than a business letter."

  "You're a quick study."

  "What if I screw up, like I've screwed up everything else in my life?"

  "Please, Jodi."

  "I wouldn't know how to begin."

  "I'll help with the first one. There's not that much to it. You learn to play the game yourself, make notes along the way and then write the manuscript."

  "I've never played a computer game in my life."

  "Not even solitaire?"

  She grinned. “You got me. Okay, Nate, I'll try it, but if it doesn't work out, be kind. Remember, I'm a sore loser too."

  Chapter Eight

  "Jodi, you did it!” Nathan shouted, bursting into her new study. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized when he realized she was concentrating on the computer screen.

  "I can't make the program work,” she said gloomily. “It loads, but then freezes on the screen.” She shook her head and continued, “What did I do that's made you so happy?"

  "Voiceprints! They are unique, plus or minus two percent. That's a higher rate of accuracy than fingerprints!"

  "You learned this on the Internet?"

  He nodded excitedly. “There's more. The technology already exists."

  "Oh, Nate,” she said, swiveling her chair towards him, “I'm sorry."

  "Not a problem, Jodi. It gives me a choice. I can write my own program code or license theirs."

  "Why would you want to use someone else's system?"

  "It would save months of work—perhaps years—and their system is already thoroughly tested."

  "So, you plan to incorporate their security system into your program?"

  "Exactly."

  "What's it going to cost?"

  "Don't know yet,” he said as he spun her back to the computer and massaged her shoulders. “I'm not even certain they will work with me. They have an email address,” he said as he viewed the motionless image on her screen. “I'm going to drop them a line, but I wanted to share the news with you first."

  She sighed and her shoulders sagged. “Well, get busy and let me try to figure out how to kill Amberdonees with my ray gun."

  "Amberdonees, huh? From the planet Yordon?"

  "How did you know that?"

  "The guy's written two other games featuring the same monsters and he had the same problem. Twice I suggested that he add a ‘start game’ button, but he keeps ignoring me. Press ‘Control S.’ That should initiate the animation."

  She followed his suggestion and the ugly Amberdonee lurched forward as it roared.

  * * * *

  Nathan stepped into his jockey briefs and reached for his shirt. “You were happier than I've ever seen you this morning when we picked out furniture and computer equipment—especially when they agreed to deliver immediately. Now you seem to be as miserable as the afternoon we watched your van go up in flames."

  "I'm not going to point my toes to the ceiling every time you get a gleam in your eyes, Nathan Watson.” She turned her back as she stepped into baby blue bikini panties.

  "I don't expect you to, but a simple, ‘not now,’ would suffice. You don't need to tell me where to go and how to get there. What's eating you, Jodi? What
have I done now?"

  "Once again, it's not you. I've always been a screw-up and I always will be.” Holding her matching blue brassiere in her hand, she sat heavily on the mattress and fought back the tears.

  Nathan eased beside her and hesitated before gently slipping his arm around her waist.

  "I played the bloomin’ game a hundred times and never killed more than three Amberdonees before one of them ate me."

  He fell backwards and doubled up in laughter.

  "It's not funny, Nathan!” She pounced on him, flattening her breasts against his chest and gripping his groin as if she meant to hurt him.

  Through gales of laughter he managed to say, “Yes, it is."

  "I have a pad full of notes but can't start writing until I know what happens when all the monsters are dead."

  He wrapped his arms around her as he tried to control himself. He lost the battle. “And you call me a sore loser?"

  "I'd like to see you kill all the beasts, Nate” she whined. “They come at you from all directions faster than I can move the joystick."

  He rolled her over, straddled her waist, pinned her arms above her head and lowered his lips towards hers. Instead of kissing her, he bared his teeth and roared at the top of his lungs.

  "I know. I know,” she said, the tears forgotten. “You want to eat me too."

  "Now there's an idea,” he joked as he poked his nose into her armpit and inhaled deeply. “Good old Ivory soap. You smell wonderful right after a shower.” He licked the short stubble.

  She groaned. “Don't do that, Nate. You know what it does to me."

  "Mess up your clean panties, did you?"

  "No, and I don't want to. Get off me."

  He tumbled to her side. “Did you try ‘Control L?’”

  "What will that do?"

  "Most games have varying levels of difficulty. Since the jerk who wrote this game doesn't have a ‘start menu,’ you have to type ‘Control L’ to select a beginning level. It may be set on maximum."

  "Now you tell me,” she hissed, trying to appear angry.

  * * * *

  "Well, you finally did it,” she said as she pulled away from the par three parking lot.

  "I told you I'd beat you one of these days."

  "A single stroke is not enough to brag about."

  "It's a start."

  "You cheated."

  "Did not."