Nightmare Alley

by Len Levinson

  He walked up the sidewalk to the nurses’ residence, and he was wearing his class A uniform with necktie knotted flawlessly and cunt cap low over his eyes and tilted slightly to the side. On the right front of his cunt cap his first lieutenant’s silver bar gleamed; he looked like one sharp young officer, ready to take on the world.

  He entered the lobby of the residence and walked toward the curved mahogany reception desk.

  “Hello,” he said to the elderly gray-haired lady sitting behind the desk. “I’m here to see Lieutenant Diane Latham.”

  “Your name?”

  “Lieutenant Dale Breckenridge.”

  “One moment, please.”

  The woman plugged a line into the switchboard, waited, said something. Lieutenant Breckenridge took off his cunt cap, because he’d remembered that men are supposed to remove their hats indoors. I used to have good manners once, he said to himself. The Army is ruining me.

  “She’ll be right down,” the gray-haired lady said. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge sauntered away from the desk and sat on one of the sofas in the lobby. A young naval officer sat on a chair on the other side of the room, and a middle-aged Army officer puffed a pipe on another sofa.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge took out a cigarette, although he’d sworn not to smoke anymore. Tomorrow he’d stop, first thing in the morning, but you couldn’t expect a man to stop smoking cigarettes after he’d been smoking all day. He lit up the cigarette. He wasn’t nervous at all. When a woman has you dead to rights, the only thing to do is deny everything and tough it out. That tactic had worked for him in the past, usually, and he was certain it would work again. Lieutenant Breckenridge may have had many faults, but lack of confidence was not one of them.

  A young brunette nurse entered the lobby from the back of the building and walked toward the young naval officer, who snapped to attention, his face blushing. They muttered to each other and he took her arm, leading her toward the front door. Lieutenant Breckenridge could see the young naval officer’s face twitching slightly, because he was nervous. Lieutenant Breckenridge wanted to tell him that women were only people, like men, and they like to fuck just as much once you get them going.

  The problem was getting them going. Lieutenant Breckenridge didn’t think that was so hard. If the average woman would agree to go out with you, she’d probably fuck you if you played your cards right. It might take awhile, but sooner or later she’d give in.

  An older nurse entered the lobby, and the Army major smoking the pipe rose to meet her. He had a big nose and a suave manner as he took the nurse’s arm. Now that guy’s gonna get laid tonight, Lieutenant Breckenridge thought. I bet he’ll have her pants off within the hour.

  He heard footsteps approaching and turned around. It was Lieutenant Diane Latham, wearing her khaki skirt and shirt and her khaki cunt cap. As he stood, Lieutenant Breckenridge wondered if women in the military called their cunt caps cunt caps too. The thought amused him and he smiled.

  “Hi,” he said. “Nice to see you.”

  “Nice to see you too.”

  “Let’s take a walk.”

  “I have a car,” she said. “Want to go for a ride?”

  “Sure.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge didn’t take her arm, because he didn’t know her that well yet and didn’t want to scare her, although she didn’t appear to be the type who was easily scared. He indicated the door with his right hand and she joined him as he headed for it. He opened the door for her and they stepped outside.

  “Lovely night,” she said.

  “Yes, it’s very beautiful.”

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” she told him as they walked down the sidewalk.

  “What made you think that?” he asked, lighting a fresh cigarette with the butt of his old one.

  “Some men make promises they don’t intend to keep.”

  “When I say something, you can build a house on it.” Lieutenant Breckenridge thought of Sergeant Butsko at that moment, because he’d learned that bullshit line from him.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I thought so,” she replied, smiling sweetly. “There appears to be something decent about you.”

  “Well, I’m not that decent.”

  She laughed. “I hope not.”

  They walked around the residence building and headed for the parking lot in back. There’s something wrong here, Lieutenant Breckenridge thought. She’s being so nice. Why isn’t she saying anything about Jack Utsler? What happened with her and him? He decided to elicit the information in the coolest possible way.

  “You look lovely tonight,” he said.

  “Thank you very much. So do you.”

  “Your uniform becomes you.”

  She turned to him and smiled. “Yours becomes you too.”

  “It was very kind of you to talk to that friend of mine at the officers’ club . . . Lieutenant Utsler?”

  “It was the least I could do for the poor guy, since he was going back to the front and all.”

  “There were no problems, I hope.”

  “Not really. He got a little fresh, but we have to expect that sort of thing, don’t we?”

  He chortled. “Well, I don’t expect that sort of thing.”

  She glanced at him coyly. “Girls never get fresh with you?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, you never know what might happen to you one of these days.”

  “Life is full of surprises, I suppose.”

  They entered the parking lot. Cars gleamed in the light of the street lamps, and he said to himself: Evidently, Utsler didn’t make as much of an idiot of himself as I’d thought.

  “It’s this car over here,” she said, walking toward a yellow 1936 Packard convertible in immaculate condition.

  “That’s your car?” he asked.

  “That’s it. Help me take the top down, or does wind in your face bother you?”

  “I love convertibles.”

  She unlocked the door and he helped her unfasten the canvas roof from the top of the windshield, folding the roof backward. The chromium on the instrument panel shone in the dim light, and he saw the big letter A affixed to the windshield, which indicated that she could get the maximum allotment of gasoline for the car.

  “Where’d you get the car?” he asked.

  “My father gave it to me.”

  Gee, thought Lieutenant Breckenridge, opening the door on the driver’s side for her. Her father must be rich.

  “Would you like to drive?” she asked.

  “Could I?”

  “Of course.”

  She handed him the keys, then sat behind the wheel and slid across the front seat to the passenger side. He dropped into the driver’s position and found the lever underneath the seat, pushing back so he’d have enough room for his long legs.

  “I haven’t driven a car like this for a long time,” he said.

  “Have fun.”

  He inserted the key into its slot. “Where shall we go?”

  “I know a real pretty place that overlooks the ocean near here. That sound okay?”

  “Sounds fine.”

  “Drive out of the parking lot and take a left.”

  He started up the Packard, and the straight-eight engine purred softly. He backed out of the parking spot and headed toward the exit. Overhead the full moon shone on him; the man in the moon seemed to be smiling. I’m going to fuck this girl, he said to himself, and I just know it’s going to be a great experience. She is obviously crazy about me. This is my lucky day.

  He drove out of the parking lot and took a left, accelerating down the road. Soldiers turned to stare at the beautiful yellow car, and Lieutenant Breckenridge felt like he was on top of the world.

  “It’s really nice to drive a car again,” he said.

  “I’m glad you like it.” She opened her purse and took out a package of Old Golds.
“Want a cigarette?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll light it for you.”

  She placed two cigarettes in her mouth, bent low behind the dashboard, lit both with the flame of her Zippo lighter, and placed one of the cigarettes between his lips.

  He could taste her saliva on the cigarette, and it made him feel intimate with her, arousing him sexually. He thought that her sweet little ass usually sat where his ass was sitting just then, and that turned him on even more. I’m going to fuck the jelly out of her beans, he thought. She’ll never forget me for the rest of her life.

  “Take a right at the next corner,” she said.

  He slowed down the Packard and eased the wheel to the right. The sleek convertible sailed around the corner like a yacht.

  “This is a wonderful car,” he said. He glanced at her, and her blond hair floated in the windstream. “I don’t want to appear too forward,” he said, “but I think you’re very beautiful.”

  “Well,” she replied, “you never seemed to notice before.”

  “I did notice, but I was in the hospital to see my old platoon sergeant, and I guess I was paying more attention to him than you.”

  “You and he appear to be very close.”

  “He’s the greatest soldier in the Army.”

  “I think he’s a nasty son of a bitch.”

  “He’s that too.”

  They came to a gate, and a little guardhouse was in the center of the road. An MP came out of the guardhouse, and Lieutenant Breckenridge hit the brakes. The MP looked at the post sticker on the windshield, checked out Lieutenant Breckenridge and Nurse Latham, came to attention, and saluted. Then the MP waved them through.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge returned the salute and drove out of the military post.

  “Bear left at the light,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He shifted into top gear and pressed down the gas pedal. The Packard zoomed down the road, and stars glittered in the sky. The air was laden with the perfumelike fragrance of tropical flowers; Lieutenant Breckenridge eased the yellow Packard to the left.

  Few cars were on the road, and no civilian homes were near the military post. Lieutenant Breckenridge felt that somehow he had escaped from the Army, and here he was, in a car with a beautiful girl, just like in civilian life.

  “I really hate the goddamned Army,” Lieutenant Breckenridge said. “I wish this goddamned war would end so I could go home.”

  “Where are you from?” she asked.

  “Virginia.”

  “What did you do before the war?”

  “I was in college—the University of Virginia.” He hoped she’d put two and two together and realize he was the Dale Breckenridge who’d been the star fullback for the team, and its captain too. His picture had appeared in newspapers and magazines from coast to coast.

  “I was in college too,” she replied. “The University of Wisconsin at Madison.”

  He frowned: She didn’t know who he was. A lot of women had screwed him on the basis of his past history, because women love to fuck stars, but this would not be true of Diane Latham.

  “Take a left at the next crossroads.”

  Stars glittered in the sky like diamonds, and he could smell the salt air of the sea in the air. The night was warm but not too warm. He was sure she had a blanket somewhere in the trunk of the Packard. He’d lay it on the beach, or wherever she was taking him, and then they’d fuck like animals all night long.

  He glanced at her. Her golden hair flowed behind her. She smiled, and her teeth were white and perfectly even. She wore her cunt cap at a jaunty angle, and Lieutenant Breckenridge wanted to steer to the side of the road, stop the engine, and put it to her then and there.

  “Take a left at the next intersection,” she said. “Keep your eyes on the road.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He peered ahead into the night. A car approached from the opposite direction, its two headlights gleaming like the eyes of a monster. The car came closer and then swooshed by, making the Packard tremble slightly; then the road was deserted again, and Lieutenant Breckenridge saw the intersection in his headlights.

  There were no traffic lights or signs. Lieutenant Breckenridge tapped the brakes, shifted to second, let the engine slow the car further, and then stomped on the gas pedal. The car accelerated around the corner, its wheels screeching on the pavement. Lieutenant Breckenridge held the wheel tightly and kept the car in line. It gathered speed and passed a colonnade of palm trees lining the road.

  “You say your father gave you this car?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore. “What does he do?”

  “He’s a general.”

  “A general?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge swallowed hard. “Where is he a general?”

  “On the post.”

  “On our post?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge was taken by surprise. He’d never dreamed that she was the daughter of a general. He’d have to be careful how he treated her, and was glad she’d had no major problems with Lieutenant Utsley. He’d never heard of General Latham before.

  “What does your father do on post?”

  “He’s in the Quartermaster Corps.”

  That was why Lieutenant Breckenridge never heard of him before. Her father was one of those faceless officers who ran the Army behind the scenes. But a general in the Quartermaster Corps had a lot of influence. A general in the Quartermaster Corps could make a lot of trouble.

  She laughed gaily. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You act like you’ve just eaten something that disagrees with you.”

  “I’m all right.”

  She laughed again. “I know what’s bothering you. You’re afraid of my father, and that makes you afraid of me.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “You’re even afraid to admit it, but don’t worry: I don’t run to Daddy whenever something goes wrong. I handle my problems myself.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” He turned for a moment and gazed at her breasts, which were round, firm, and jiggling slightly with the motion of the car.

  “Keep your eyes on the road.”

  A hill loomed ahead, and Lieutenant Breckenridge increased the pressure on the gas pedal to maintain the Packard’s speed. The vehicle zoomed up the hill; at its top the Pacific Ocean was straight ahead, moonlight shining on the waves.

  “Hey,” he said, “that’s really beautiful.”

  “Slow down and bear right.”

  The paved road became a dirt road that wound through trees and bushes. Lieutenant Breckenridge steered to the right, his view of the ocean cut off. The Packard rocked from side to side as it drove over boulders and depressions in the road. No other cars were about, and it reminded Lieutenant Breckenridge of the jungles in which he’d fought the Japs at night. A shiver passed through him as he remembered those nighttime banzai attacks, when the Japs had screamed and hollered and tried to overrun the American positions, and sometimes got away with it.

  “Bear left,” she said.

  He eased the wheel in that direction and the ocean came into view again. He passed some scattered vegetation and then rolled onto an open grassy spot on top of a cliff that overlooked the ocean.

  “What a view!” he said.

  “You can stop anywhere around here.”

  He hit the brakes and the Packard slowed to a stop. Pulling up the emergency brake, he stepped on the gas and turned off the ignition. The engine roared and died. Wind from the ocean blew the exhaust fumes away. Waves crashed to the shore below, and Lieutenant Breckenridge could see the coastline dotted with the lights of towns. All those lights would go off in seconds if the warning of a Japanese air-attack warning was sounded, but the Japs hadn’t attacked the Hawaiian Islands since Pearl Harbor, and everyone felt
that Hawaii was a relatively safe place. Still, a person could never relax completely, because the Japs were sneaky and no one could be sure of what the bastards would do next.

  He turned to her. The breeze rustled her hair, and her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He leaned toward her to take her in his arms.

  She held up her hands and pressed them against his shirt. “Not so fast.”

  He became flustered and blushed, because if not then, when?

  “Let’s get out of the car,” she said. She pointed to the edge of the cliff. “Let’s stand over there and see the view.”

  “I can see it from here.”

  “It’s better over there.”

  “Okay,” he said, because he knew men had to humor women. He’d have to give in to all her whims and play the game her way so he could take her pants off, and then the tables would turn.

  He opened the door on his side and got out of the Packard. He walked around the front of the car to the passenger side in order to open her door, but she opened the door herself and stepped out.

  The moonlight made a sheen on her cheek and spangles in her hair. He wanted to press his lips against hers and squeeze one of her magnificent boobs, but that would have to wait for later. They had to look at the moonlight first.

  He took her hand, and together they walked to the edge of the cliff. Before them stretched the Pacific Ocean. The lights of ships could be seen heading toward Honolulu or sailing into the open sea. Stars glittered overhead and the waves crashed into the shore below.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge looked down and saw the waves advancing in rows toward huge boulders piled on top of each other. The cliff he stood on fell off to a sandy slope dotted with bushes and rocks, and then came another plateau. Below that plateau was the rocky shoreline.

  “This is really nice,” he said.

  “It’s my favorite spot on the island, and maybe even in the world,” she replied, crossing her arms underneath her sumptuous breasts.

  He wondered who she’d brought here before. Probably countless young men like him whom she let seduce her. Lieutenant Breckenridge felt a pang of despair when he realized he was just another guy to her, because beautiful women always have all the men they want, and even more than they want.