by Tim Waggoner
Aaron became aware of the smell when he and Scab-Head had closed to within ten feet of each other. Greasy and rank, like the inside of a garbage can that hadn’t been washed out in years. It clung to the insides of Aaron’s nasal passages, coated the back of his throat. His eyes began to water and his stomach roiled. Jesus Christ, did the sonofabitch bathe in raw sewage?
Aaron quickened his pace, more determined than ever to avoid Scab-Head now. But the man angled toward him, obviously intending to intercept Aaron before he could reach his car. Aaron decided to go with the old offense is the best defense routine. Without slowing, he turned to face the man and said, “I don’t know what you want, but I’m in a hurry, and I really don’t have the — ”
Before Aaron could say anything more, Scab-Head began running toward him, moving with a burst of speed that Aaron hadn’t thought the fat man capable of. So surprised was Aaron by Scab-Head’s sudden attack that he could only stand and watch as the man came at him, gut joggling seismically. Scab-Head grabbed hold of Aaron’s shoulders and pushed him toward the ground. Aaron’s right knee hit the asphalt, sending a jolt of pain through his leg. Scab-Head’s weight and momentum forced Aaron onto his side, his right hip and shoulder struck the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Scab-Head half-crouched, half-lay on Aaron, holding him down. The fat man’s chest heaved as he took in gulps of air, breath wheezing in and out as if he were in danger of cardiac arrest. This close, the man’s stink was truly horrendous, and Aaron thought the man needn’t have bothered to use his weight to render him immobile; his body odor could’ve done the job by itself. Scab-Head’s breath was just as lethal. His teeth were yellow, gums sore and bleeding, and his tongue was coated snail-belly gray. When he exhaled, it smelled like he had eaten a shit sandwich with picante sauce, sour milk, and extra onion.
“Get off of … me … damn you!” Aaron had trouble drawing enough breath to speak, and he gritted out his words through clenched teeth.
“Stay still, don’t struggle.” The man’s voice was calm, his tone detached, as if he attacked people in parking lots every day and it was no big thing. “I just want to talk to you for a couple minutes. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Aaron tried to throw Scab-Head off of him, but the man weighed too much, and Aaron couldn’t get his arms or legs beneath him to give him any leverage. At the moment, it was all he could do to continue drawing air into his lungs.
“You’re already … hurting me!”
“Sorry about that,” Scab-Head said, though he made no move to shift his bulk off Aaron. “But I had to make sure you’d stay put and listen. What I have to tell you is too important.”
“I’ll listen, I … promise. Just get … off me!”
Scab-Head chuckled. “The way I look and smell? The minute I get off you, you’ll jump to your feet and run like hell. You probably think I’m some kind of lunatic, don’t you?”
“The thought had … occurred to me.”
“Well, I’m not. I look this way on purpose.” He lowered his voice, as if imparting a secret. “It’s camouflage.”
Despite the man’s protestations to the contrary, Aaron was certain that he was completely bug-fuck. But the fat, smelly sonofabitch had made no move to hurt him since he’d brought him down. Maybe if Aaron listened to whatever crazy horseshit the bloat had to say, he’d let him go. If nothing else, maybe it would give Aaron a chance to get into a better position to free himself.
“So … talk.”
Scab-Head looked around as if to make sure that no one was watching or listening. Other than the two of them, the parking lot was deserted, which was too damn bad for Aaron. He could’ve used a witness or two right now — preferably one with a cell phone that had 911 on speed dial. The fat man then leaned his mouth close to Aaron’s ear, the movement causing more of Scab-Head’s weight to press down on Aaron. The pressure was incredible, and Aaron thought he could feel his ribs grind against each other.
“She was here today. Don’t bother denying it. I saw her pull into the lot and get out of her car. She had an animal with her in a carrier. A cat, maybe, though I wasn’t close enough to get a good look.”
Aaron thought he might be mishearing due to lack of oxygen and impeded blood flow, but it sounded as if Scab-Head was talking about Caroline.
“I saw you, too. Last night, in the parking lot. The other parking lot, I mean. Saw you watching her. Saw you talking to her this morning, too.”
Aaron felt a stab of cold fear in his gut. Scab-Head was talking about Caroline and worse, he had evidently been spying on her. Or maybe it was Aaron he’d been spying on. Either way, Scab-Head had just moved up a notch from crazy to dangerously crazy.
“Did she invite you yet? If she hasn’t, she will. It’s … what they do. When she does ask, say yes. Once you’re in, keep your eyes and ears open. Participate, of course. You’ll have to so they don’t get suspicious.” Scab-Head grinned. “Besides, it’ll be fun.” His grin fell away then. “They probably won’t take you in back. Not your first night, but if for some reason they do …” He trailed off. A far-away look came into his rheumy, bloodshot eyes, his jaw went slack, and he began to tremble, the vibrations making his flab quiver as if he were a thin sack of flesh filled with gelatin.
He gave a quick shake of his head, and his eyes snapped back into focus. He rubbed his scalp vigorously.
“We’ll talk again.”
Scab-Head ponderously lifted his bulk of Aaron, rose to his bare feet with a grunt, and started walking toward his Beetle. Aaron lay on the ground, gasping for breath, so relieved to be free of the man’s oppressive weight that for the moment he gave no thought to getting up. Right now, it was enough to be able to take in lungfuls of air once more.
Scab-Head got into his bug and started the engine. The car gave a shrill whine as if a belt was bad, and there was a rapid clanging sound, as if the fan blade were striking something as it rotated. Scab-Head put the car in gear and backed out of his space. He ground the gears putting the transmission into first, and Aaron — who was still drawing in deep gulps of air — realized that the lunatic might run him over, whether on purpose or by accident. The bug lurched forward, and Aaron jumped to his feet, ready to throw himself to the side if the car came at him. But Scab-Head drove by, missing Aaron by a good yard or more. The fat man glanced at Aaron as he sped past, gave him a nod, and then pulled onto the street and race off, leaving behind a gray-blue cloud of acrid exhaust.
Aaron rose to his feet and brushed dirt and small pebbles off his clothes. He turned in the direction Scab-Head had taken, but the bug was no longer visible, and the whiny-rattling sound of its engine was quickly fading in the distance.
“What in the hell was that all about?”
When Aaron got home, he made no mention of his encounter with Scab-Head. He’d driven home with the windows open and air conditioner blasting to help cut the stink that had rubbed off on him, and while his clothes had dirt and oil ground in at several spots, he often came home from work with mysterious stains on his clothing. Kristen was used to him being a little messy and — thanks to the animals he worked with — somewhat aromatic. She and the kids were already eating dinner, so after a quick hello he went upstairs to the bedroom, changed into a blue polo short and white shorts, then tossed his soiled clothes into the hamper. As he changed, he gave his body a quick once-over. He was scraped and bruised in numerous places, but he hadn’t bled — much, anyway — and while his ribs were sore, he didn’t think they were broken. Cracked, maybe. He’d had to go easy on them for a few days.
He went back downstairs only to find his family had vacated the dining table. Kristen had fixed him a plate of grilled teriyaki chicken breasts, brown rice, and peas, but everyone else had cleared their places. It looked like he was going to be dining alone … again.
He walked into the kitchen. Kristen was rinsing the dinner plates and stacking them in the dishwasher.
“What’s up?” Aaron said. “I know I’m home a li
ttle late, but I’m not that late, am I?”
Kristen answered without turning away from the sink. “Lindsay’s over at Rosemary’s house, and Colin has a date with a girl he met at the pool today. “
“He does? I’m impressed. First day on the job, too.”
Looks like Aaron hadn’t been the only one getting lucky at work today. He thought of Caroline sucking him off in the examination room, the moist tight seal of her lips, the way she wiggled the tip of her tongue against his foreskin … He expected to feel a wave of guilt thinking about these things in the presence of his wife. He wanted to feel guilty, because that would mean he was still a decent man despite what he’d done. But he felt no guilt whatsoever. What he did feel was horny. He wanted to fuck Kristen, right here, right now. If the kids hadn’t been in the house, he would’ve, too. He imagined grabbing Kristen, pulling her clothes off, saying Caroline Langdon gave me the best head I’ve ever had today. Let’s see if you can top her.
Good Christ, what the hell was the matter with him? It was bad enough he’d cheated on his wife. Even if she did have a low sex drive, he’d promised to be faithful to her when they married, and today he’d broken that promise. But to be standing here thinking such nasty things …
You’re a man, and you’re thinking with your dick, that’s all. Doesn’t mean you have to let it control you — not unless you want to.
He walked over to Kristen until he was standing directly behind her then encircled his arms around her waist. He then gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“How was your day, sweetheart?”
The words rang hollow in his own ears, as if he were an actor pretending to be Aaron Rittinger, loving husband. And a poor actor at that.
But Kristen leaned back against him, giving no indication that she sensed the awkwardness he felt. He’d almost thought she would, that she had some sort of wifely sixth sense that would instantly detect his infidelity the moment they touched.
“Not bad,” she said. She put the dish she was in the process of rinsing back in the sink, dried her hands on a towel, then turned around, put her hands on Aaron’s shoulders and kissed him. She tasted of teriyaki sauce.
“Sorry I can’t stay and keep you company while you eat,” she said. “But I have to go pick up Lindsay.”
“What about Colin?”
“He’s going to ride his bike downtown and meet his date at the Tastee-Freeze. He’s probably already left.”
“He has?” Aaron hadn’t seen Colin since his brief stop in the dining room before going upstairs. Had Colin left while Aaron was changing? He couldn’t keep track of that boy. It was like he’d sired Casper the Surly Adolescent Ghost.
“That’s okay,” Aaron said. “I don’t suppose you can leave Lindsay’s at her friend’s a while longer — ”
“Wish I could, sweetie, but I promised Kate that I’d get Lindsay on time.”
Aaron had no idea who Kate was. The mother of Lindsay’s friend, he guessed.
“Maybe later tonight, once the kids are asleep?” he said.
If she says yes, I won’t go tonight. I’ll stay home, be a good husband and never stray again.
Kristen gave him a quick kiss on the nose and then withdrew from his arms.
“Maybe. I’m pretty tired already, but who knows? I may rally and find some extra energy for later.”
Aaron forced a smile. He’d heard this before. Translated, it meant Not tonight.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
CHAPTER SIX
Kristen was asleep by 10:45. So was Lindsay, and Colin … well, his door was closed and, asleep or awake, he’d keep it closed all night. Aaron considered leaving a note for Kristen. She normally slept through the night, but in case she did wake up and find herself alone in bed and start wondering where her husband was, it would help to have some sort of alibi in place. The trouble was, he couldn’t think of a good one.
I couldn’t sleep so went for a walk sounded lame, as did An old college buddy called after you went to bed and asked if I wanted to have a few drinks with him. So in the end, he decided against writing a note. If Kristen woke while he was gone, he’d just have to deal with it.
He put on his shoes, grabbed his keys and wallet, then headed for the garage.
He pulled into the parking lot of the Valley View Shopping Center at 11:04. He drove slowly through the lot, on the lookout for a light-blue Volkswagen Beetle. He’d been watching out for Scab-Head ever since leaving his house. But Aaron had seen no sign of the man on his way here, and he saw no Beetles in the parking lot, light blue or otherwise. Aaron looked for Caroline’s Infiniti, but he didn’t see it either. Maybe she’d gotten cold feet — though that was hard to imagine given the … enthusiasm she’d demonstrated earlier. Maybe she’d changed her mind, or met someone else.
You were all right for a one-time quickie, Aaron, but I found someone longer-lasting, if you know what I mean.
What was he doing here? This was ridiculous. He was acting like a stereotypical middle-aged man in the throes of a mid-life crisis. And a pathetic, tawdry one at that. He should swing his car around, head for the parking lot’s entrance and go back home where he belonged.
Headlights flashed in his rearview mirror. He couldn’t tell what make of car that they belonged to, but when the driver hit the brights a couple times to get his attention, he knew it was Caroline.
Time to put up or shut up, kid.
Aaron pulled his Lexus into an empty spot in front of I’d Buy That For a Dollar and parked. A moment later, Caroline pulled her Infiniti into the space next to him. Aaron turned off his lights and cut the engine. As he removed the key from the ignition, he glanced out the driver’s side window. Caroline smiled and waved at him. He smiled and waved back, feeling like a teenager who’d sneaked out of the house to meet a girl his parents disapproved of. It was foolish, but at the same time exhilarating. His heart was pounding and he felt a little sick to his stomach. He was nervous, he was excited, but most of all, he was alive.
He got out of his Lexus, locked it, and pocketed the keys. Caroline was already out of her car and walking toward him. She wore a black mini-dress with stiletto heels that clacked on the asphalt as she walked. Without a word she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was a long, passionate kiss, and when it was over, Caroline leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I’ve had the taste of your cum in my mouth all day.”
Her voice was low and throaty, and her breath was warm in his ear. His penis, already partially erect from their kiss, became hard as rock. Above them, moths and smaller flying insects dipped and dove as they circled the parking lot’s fluorescent lights.
“Ready?” she asked. There was a hint of challenge in her voice, as if she thought he might back out. But he’d come too far to turn away now. Or perhaps not far enough.
“You bet.”
She nodded, grinned, then took his hand and started leading him toward the door. The night air seemed suddenly cold to Aaron, and he had to fight the urge to shiver. Just nerves, he told himself. Just try to enjoy the sensation; it’s all part of the experience.
“Considering what you’re wearing — and by the way, you look fantastic — I think I’m a little underdressed,” Aaron said.
“Don’t worry about it. We’re not much on dress codes in Penumbra.”
“Is that the name of the place? Penumbra?”
Caroline nodded.
The word was familiar to Aaron, though at the moment he couldn’t recall the definition. He could’ve asked Caroline, but he didn’t want to appear stupid in front of her. He considered telling her about his encounter with Scab-Head after work. It was clear the lunatic had some connection to Penumbra … and, it seemed, to Caroline as well. Did she invite you yet? If she hasn’t, she will. It’s … what they do. But Aaron didn’t want to spoil the mood by bringing up the incident now. There would be plenty of time to tell her about Scab-Head later.
Aaron and Caroline reached the sidewalk that stretched the leng
th of the strip mall and stepped up onto it, still holding hands.
“Is there anything I should know before we go in?” he asked.
“Not really. Just relax, be yourself, go with the flow. You’ll be fine.”
Easy for her to say. She was an old pro at this kind of thing, but Aaron was as green as green could be. He’d come this far, though, and he wasn’t about to back out now.
Caroline led him up to the fuckle door, then released his hand. She carried a tiny purse in her other hand, and she opened it and took out a single key. Just as she had last night, she inserted the key into the lock and turned it. Only now Aaron was standing next to her instead of secretly observing from behind the wheel of his Lexus. The lock clicked open, and Caroline removed the key, dropped it back in her tiny purse, then closed it with a soft snap.
She gestured toward the doorknob. “Go ahead and open it. Visitors always are the first to enter.”
Aaron forced a smile. “Come into my parlor, eh?” Caroline smiled back but otherwise didn’t reply.
C’mon, dumbass. Just don’t stand there with your dick in your hand. Open the fucking door!
Aaron reached for the knob. He remembered how it had felt last night when he’d tried it. Warm, soft, yielding, almost as if it were made of flesh instead of metal. But this time as his fingers closed around it, he found the metal cold and hard. He turned the knob and gently pushed the door open. The first thing that he was aware of was the smell. A musty odor that was a combination of dust, mold, cigarette smoke, and dried semen. He heard the rattle-hum of an ancient air conditioner at work, but though it cooled the place, it did little to cut down the smell. Faint yellow light spilled through the doorway, and as Aaron stepped inside, he saw that the illumination, such as it was, came from two old floor lamps with rust nibbling at their metal stands and shades that were torn and stained. There were two additional lamps, one apiece atop the end tables flanking a Naugahyde couch with cracks in the surface, many of which had been crudely repaired with silvery-metallic strips of duct tape. The walls were covered with tacky butterfly-patterned wallpaper that was faded and peeling. The cheap tile covering the floor was warped, yellowed, and cracked in numerous places. The couch sat between two easy chairs that were old and threadbare, with stuffing and springs sticking out and more patches of duct-tape repair jobs. On the other side of the room opposite the couch was a crude bar made of a wooden plank set atop a pair of sawhorses. There were three stools in front of the bar, and several cardboard boxes filled with booze and a mini fridge sitting on the floor behind it. At one end of the bar, a portable CD player had been set up, wired to small speakers instead of earphones. Music played softly, some sort of smooth jazz, Aaron thought, though he knew little about jazz of any flavor. He was more of a classic rock man.
