Come Out Tonight

by Richard Laymon

  “Ready?” Pete asked her.

  “Yuh.”

  “Ready, Jeff?”

  “All set.”

  “Okay, up.”

  Pete and Jeff stood, lifting her. She stiffened and whimpered. On her feet, though unsteady, she seemed to be bearing most of her own weight. Pete relaxed his hold.

  She flinched. “Don’ leggo!”

  “I won’t. I won’t. It’s all right. We won’t let you fall.”

  “It’ll be all right,” Jeff told her. In a louder voice, he said, “Let’s get her off this hillside before we do anything else.”

  “Right.”

  Bracing her up between them, they made their way down the slope. They stopped on level ground in front of the cinder-block wall.

  “Maybe this’d be a good place to put the swimsuit on,” Pete told her. “Can you stand on your own?”

  “Ah…try.”

  As they loosened their hold, Cherry raised her arms, leaned forward and put her hands against the wall like a fugitive waiting to be frisked by the police.

  Pete pulled the bikini out of his trunks.

  “Do you think you can put it on yourself?” he asked.

  “Nuh.”

  “Okay. Well.” As Pete stared at the bikini, Jeff came over to him.

  “Here,” Jeff said, and took the pants. He stepped in close behind Cherry, knelt down, and used both hands to spread the thin elastic waistband. “Can you lift a foot?” he asked.

  She raised her left foot off the ground.

  Leaning so close to her that his forehead almost touched her rear end, Jeff slipped the pants around her upraised foot. “Now the other.”

  A moment later, they were around both her ankles. Keeping the sides of the waistband pulled away from her, Jeff lifted the pants. As the skimpy black seat slid up her buttocks, he eased the elastic in against her hips. “Wanta keep it loose,” he muttered. Then, as if afraid she might misunderstand, he added, “Pull it up too much, it might hurt. You know, your wounds.”

  He shuffled backward on his knees, then stood up. With a nod toward the bikini top in Pete’s hands, he said, “Want me to take care of that for you?”

  “That’s all right,” Pete said.

  With Jeff watching, he tied the two neck strings together. Then he stepped up to Cherry’s side. “I think I have to get under there,” he said. He ducked beneath Cherry’s arm. As he came up slowly between her and the wall, his bare shoulder brushed against her breast. The feel of it shocked him with delight and embarrassment. “Sorry,” he murmured. Though the touch had lasted only a moment, he could still feel it as he straightened up and faced her.

  Her eyes were inches from his.

  He tried to smile. “This is kind of awkward,” he said. With both hands, he slipped the loop over her head and eased it down behind her neck. “There,” he whispered.

  Bending his knees slightly, he saw that the limp black patches draped the tops of her breasts. The remaining two strings dangled toward her waist. He crouched lower, took one string in each hand, and raised them to the sides of her ribcage.

  “Jeff,” he said. “Can you get these?”

  “No problem.” He stepped behind Cherry and took the strings from Pete. “Tie ’em?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  As Jeff drew them backward, the bikini top closed in too high—slightly above her nipples. “Hold it,” Pete said.

  Jeff stopped pulling. “Problem?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  Pete crouched slightly lower, reached up with both hands and hooked his fingertips underneath the bikini. He felt Cherry’s breasts against the backs of his fingers. They were hot and slippery, her nipples stiff. He pushed upward gently against them as he drew the bikini downward. It came down easily past the bottoms of her breasts.

  “Okay,” Pete said. “You can tie ’em now.”

  To protect the long, curving cut beneath her left breast, Pete kept his fingertips under the bikini while Jeff tied the knot behind her back.

  “Got it,” Jeff said.

  Pete pulled his fingers out. Then he straightened up and looked Cherry in the eyes. Blushing furiously, he said, “It’s a little loose so it won’t hurt you.”

  “Good,” she whispered. “Thanks.”

  Thank you, Pete thought. But he said, “You’re welcome.”

  “Yeah,” said Jeff.

  Pete smiled at her. “Well,” he said. “Guess that’s it.” Then he ducked and sidestepped, passing underneath her arm, this time missing her breast. “That takes care of that,” he said.

  He wished he could do it all over again.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  “Now what?” Jeff asked.

  “Take her to a hospital, I guess,” Pete said.

  “How?”

  “Drive her.”

  “In the ’vette?”

  “The Mercedes. Mom and Dad took the ’vette to Palm—”

  “No,” Cherry said.

  They both looked at her.

  She stood just as before, leaning forward slightly, her arms up, her hands on the wall. “No…No hah…hospital.”

  “You’ve gotta go to a hospital,” Pete said.

  “No she doesn’t,” Jeff said.

  “She’s hurt really bad.”

  She took a step toward the wall. Shoving at it, she stood up straight. She lowered her arms to her sides, then stood there motionless with her head down. After a few seconds, she lifted her head. Very slowly, she began to turn around. She looked so unsteady that Pete raised his hands, ready to catch her if she should start to fall. But she stayed up and continued to turn ever so slowly until she was facing him. Then she said, “I’m…fine.”

  A single, quick laugh burst out of Jeff. Then he said, “Sorry. Not funny.”

  Pete frowned at him. To Cherry, he said, “You’re not fine. You’re a wreck.”

  “She is standing,” Jeff pointed out.

  “Yeah. And she looks like she’s up for a role in Beach of the Living Dead.”

  “Not…dead,” she said.

  Maybe she is, Pete suddenly thought.

  Yeah, right.

  But something in his face must’ve betrayed his sudden concern because Cherry said, “I’m…not…dead.”

  He forced himself to laugh. “I know. Jeez. Of course you’re not.”

  Grinning, Jeff said, “Ain’t no such thing as the living dead, dude.”

  “I know that.”

  “Besides, Cherry’s breathing. She’s got a heartbeat. And she’s warm.”

  She turned her head slightly toward Jeff and said, “Thanks.”

  “She’s also beautiful and brave.”

  She groaned.

  “Well, you are.”

  “But you’re really banged up,” Pete told her. “You might have some sort of serious damage that needs to be fixed. You know? Maybe you’ve got internal bleeding or something. Maybe you need an operation.”

  “No,” she said.

  “How do you know?”

  “She doesn’t want to go to a hospital,” Jeff said. “So why don’t we leave it at that?”

  “We’re responsible for her.”

  “Are not. We’re not even adults—and she is. She can make her own decisions. If she wants to stay away from the hospital, we’ve got no right to force her. I mean, who knows? Maybe she’s got very good reasons.”

  “What’s a good reason?”

  “Hospital’s gonna cost her a fortune,” Jeff said. “Maybe she’s got no medical insurance.”

  “Even if she doesn’t—”

  “Or how about this? Maybe getting medical care’s against her religion. You know? She might be like a Christian Scientist. Some people, they’d rather die than go against their faith.”

  Cherry looked into Pete’s eyes and nodded.

  “You won’t go to a hospital because of your religion?” Pete asked.

  She nodded more strongly, but it seemed to hurt her. With a grimace, she stopped.


  “Okay,” Pete said. “No hospital. But what do you want us to do? Should we phone someone for you? Take you someplace? We’ll do whatever you want.”

  “In…the house.”

  “You want to go inside my house?”

  “Yuh.”

  “Okay,” Pete said. He almost smiled, but held it back. “That’d be fine.”

  Fine? he thought. Fine?

  This is so damn great!

  Take it easy, he told himself. She’s been through all kinds of hell. I’ve got no right to feel happy about any of this.

  “I think we can forget about going over the wall,” he said. “We’ll have to go around.”

  “Kind of far,” Jeff said.

  “She can’t climb over this.”

  “Try,” she said.

  “No. You’re wrecked up enough as it is.”

  “More than enough,” added Jeff. To Pete, he said, “What about getting out a ladder?”

  “She can hardly stand up; we don’t want her trying to climb a ladder.”

  “Then I guess we’ll have to hang on to her arms and hobble around to the front of the house.”

  “We can’t walk three across,” Pete explained, avoiding the word abreast. “It’s too narrow back here.”

  “Well, maybe just one of us can hold her.”

  “I’m…fine,” Cherry said. “Walk alone.”

  “It’s a long way,” Jeff said.

  “I’ll…make it.”

  “You sure?” Pete asked.

  “Try,” she said.

  “I’ll go first.” Jeff turned away, took a couple of steps alongside the cinder-block wall, then stopped and looked around. “This way,” he said.

  Slowly, Cherry began to turn toward him.

  “Wait,” Pete said. Blushing again, he stepped in front of her. “If you want, I’ll be happy to carry you. I mean, you know, like piggyback? Why don’t we try that? Unless you’d rather not.”

  “That’s a really good idea,” Jeff pointed out. “I’d carry you myself, Cherry, but as you can see I’m a pintsized shrimp.”

  Meeting Pete’s eyes, she said, “Uh-kay.”

  “Great.” He hitched up his drooping trunks, turned away from her, then squatted so low that his rear end almost touched the ground.

  Jeff turned around to watch.

  Pete heard Cherry stagger up behind him. Her hands lowered onto his shoulders. When her open legs slid against his sides, he reached back with both hands and clutched her under the thighs. Lifting, he straightened his legs.

  My God, she’s heavy!

  Or I’m just weak.

  Riding him up, Cherry went rigid and let out a whimper.

  “You all right?” Pete asked.

  “Fine.” She spoke the word in a high voice that sounded like a hurt little girl.

  “Do you want me to put you down?”

  “No,” she said.

  I’m gonna lose her if…!

  With a small jump, Pete tugged at her thighs and raised her higher onto his back.

  She yelped.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Uh. Okay.” She let go of his shoulders and held on to the top of his head.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yuh.”

  “Here we go.”

  He started walking quickly alongside the wall. Jeff, several strides ahead, walked sideways and backward so he could keep his eyes on them.

  This is so cool, Pete thought.

  She seemed awfully heavy for someone so slender, but he liked carrying her. He liked clinging to the bottoms of her thighs. He liked having her legs on both sides of him. Her groin, tight against his back, felt hot through the thin fabric of her pants. Higher, she was bare and slippery. Her breasts, on both sides of Pete’s head, bounced and swayed inside her loose bikini top. Sometimes, when he jostled her, they swung and patted his ears.

  He carried her to the end of the wall, around the corner, then along a strip of level ground between the wall and a drainage ditch.

  As they approached the front corner, Jeff asked, “How’s it going?”

  “Okay,” Pete answered, just as a breast bumped softly against his ear.

  Jeff grinned. “Looks like the job has its perks.”

  “Up yours,” Pete said. Short of breath, he added, “How about…opening the gate?”

  “Gotcha.” He stepped around the corner.

  By the time Pete arrived with Cherry on his back, Jeff was standing inside the pool area, holding the gate open for them.

  “Thanks,” Pete said. He stopped in front of Jeff. “Give me a hand?”

  “You’re about to lose something, huh?”

  “Pull ’em up?”

  “I don’t know, man.”

  “Just do it. Please?”

  Laughing softly, Jeff ducked and reached for Pete’s drooping trunks. He gave them a quick lift by the waistband.

  “Thanks,” Pete said. “Now can you get the back door?”

  “Righto.” Jeff hurried ahead, slid it open, then stepped out of the way.

  Pete entered, carrying Cherry. After walking over the ground and the concrete, the soft carpet of the living room felt wonderful under his bare feet.

  Jeff slid the door shut. “Gonna put her down?” he asked.

  “Where?” Pete asked.

  “How should I know?”

  “I was asking Cherry.”

  “Uh,” she said. “Bath…room.”

  “Good idea.”

  Though no more gates or doors stood in the way, Jeff hurried ahead of them.

  Cherry started to slip.

  Pete jumped and hoisted her higher. She whimpered a little but didn’t cry out. “Sorry,” he said, and hurried across the living room. At the foyer, he turned right and carried her down the hallway.

  Jeff was already waiting just outside the guest bathroom. He’d turned the light on.

  Pete lurched through the doorway. The moment he felt the tile floor under his feet, he stopped and crouched low. He released his hold on Cherry’s legs. She slid off his back.

  Though haggard and aching and breathless, Pete suddenly felt nearly weightless. He stood up straight, groaning. Where he’d been feeling the slick heat of Cherry’s skin, he now felt cool air.

  He felt vast relief to be free of the burden.

  But he missed it, too.

  I’ll probably never do anything like that again.

  She patted him gently on the back. “Thanks,” she said.

  He turned around and smiled at her. “Glad I could help.”

  Nodding slightly, she patted him on the chest. “Now go.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But what…? What should we do? Do you need anything?”

  “I’ll…be fine. Just…need time. Bath.”

  “You want to take a bath?”

  “Can’t say I blame her,” Jeff said.

  “We’d better run the water for you,” Pete told her. “And we’ll help you in. Okay?”

  Patting him on the chest again, she said, “Go. I’m fine. I’ll…be out…in a while.”

  “You want us to just wait?”

  “Yuh.”

  Jeff asked, “What about your swimming suit? Do you need us to help you take it off?”

  “Nah.” She almost smiled. “Thanks. Go.”

  “Do you need anything?” Pete asked.

  “Bye-bye.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  “Bye,” said Jeff.

  They left her standing in the middle of the bathroom. Pete, last out the door, pulled it shut.

  They headed down the hall.

  “How about a Pepsi?” Jeff asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Man, oh man.”

  “What?” Pete asked.

  “What do you mean, what? Man, we got us a babe.”

  “She’s really something, huh?”

  “She’s in-fuckin’-credible.”

  “She’s awfully messed up.”

  “All the better, dud
e. We can take care of her.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Just you and me.”

  “For now, anyway.”

  “Let’s keep her, man. We’ve got your whole house to ourselves.”

  “Well, we’ll see what she wants to do.”

  In the kitchen, Pete walked over to the refrigerator and took out two cans of Pepsi. “I left that glass outside,” he said.

  “I’ll get it for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let me rest for a minute.”

  “What do you need to rest for? You didn’t carry her around on your back.”

  “It was hard work watching, you lucky stiff.”

  Smiling, Pete handed a can to him.

  Jeff popped it open. “Sure wish I could’ve carried her.”

  “She’s heavier than she looks.”

  Jeff shook his head, then took a drink, then sighed, then said, “Man.”

  “What?”

  “Is this the coolest thing that’s ever happened, or what?”

  “I don’t suppose she feels that way.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Toby woke up to find himself shivering. He was stretched out on his own bed—on top of the covers—and wearing only the Winnie the Pooh nightshirt that he’d taken from Sherry’s apartment.

  Somebody must’ve boosted up the air conditioning.

  He rolled onto his side and saw the clock on the nightstand.

  10:20.

  Sid and Dawn were probably up by now.

  Stores would already be open. Sid could get the duplicate keys made.

  I don’t wanta ask him.

  Toby didn’t want to see Sid, much less remind him about the car keys.

  Maybe I should just go back to sleep, he thought.

  But he couldn’t fall asleep unless he got warm, so he crawled under the covers.

  Feeling cozy, he sighed and shut his eyes.

  So much to do. I shouldn’t be going back to sleep.

  I need more sleep, he told himself. After last night…

  In his mind, it was last night again. He was in Sherry’s bedroom, on Sherry’s bed, on top of Sherry.

  I should go through it from the start, he thought, so I won’t miss anything.

  But starting where?

  How about in the car when I pulled her down on my lap?

  No, start when I got her on the bed. That was when all the best stuff happened.

  No, how about a little earlier when she was up on the window sill and I stuck my hand under her skirt?