The Cherry Pages

by Gary Ruffin

  After the song ended, Penny hugged me tight, and we all applauded the band as if we were actually at the dance. I must admit, it felt really good to shake a leg.

  We took a minute to catch our breath before Penny asked, “Where did you learn those moves, Coop?”

  “I think the question is, Penny Prevost—where did you learn your moves?”

  “My grandpa taught me when I was a little girl. He was a Seabee in the South Pacific during World War Two. Now, answer the question—where’d you learn to dance like that?”

  “When Neal and I were at the academy, we used to go up to Myrtle Beach on our vacations.” To Cherry, “Myrtle Beach is in South Carolina, a couple of states up on the East coast.”

  “Oh, I see,” Cherry replied. “And that explains your dancing abilities how?”

  “They had, and still have, a lot of dance clubs there. Beach music is what it’s called, and that’s where I learned to shag.”

  Cherry looked at me and asked, “That’s where you learned to what?”

  When I just stared, Penny jumped in with a grin, and said, “Cherry, you hafta realize somethin’ about our boy, here. He has no concept whatsoever of popular culture.” To me again, “In England, ‘shag’ means to have sexual intercourse.”

  I said, “Ohhh, I learned to do that at—”

  “Never mind!” Penny said. “Another story for another time.”

  I continued, “Anyway, Cherry, the moves are very similar to the jitterbug, just slower. If you can learn one, you can learn the other.”

  Cherry said, “Well, Cooper, I’m truly impressed. You certainly have the moves. Fancy a go with me?”

  “My pleasure, ma’am,” I said, and we waited until Penny had the scene up on the screen.

  We bopped through the number again, Cherry once more dazzling us with her dancing skill. Penny watched while perched on the arm of the sofa, again unable to keep from smiling.

  When we were done, I collapsed on the sofa, and the girls fell down next to me on either side.

  We sat for a while, and then Penny got up. She started the music, and pulled me back up to dance with her. After about a minute, Cherry asked, “May I cut in?”

  “Sure,” Penny said. “As long as you promise to give ’im back.”

  Cherry crossed her heart, said, “Promise,” and we were off to the races again.

  They were both much better dancers than me, but neither said anything but complimentary things, and I was in shag heaven.

  Make that jitterbug heaven.

  When the song ended for what seemed to be the eleventeenth time, we all decided to go out on the porch to cool off. Penny and Cherry sat on the porch steps. I sat on the swing, and we silently watched the waves slide onto the beach. The temperature was perfect, and in a few minutes we were all cooled down.

  After about ten minutes of talking about how much fun the dancing had been, Cherry said, “This has been simply marvelous, but I should turn in.”

  Penny said, “I’d better go in too.” She looked at me with an “Okay with you?” expression on her face.

  I nodded yes at Penny, and said, “Good idea. Bed—I mean, sofa—sounds good to me, too.”

  Cherry gave me a peck on the cheek, and Penny laid a sloppy kiss on me, licking my ear and laughing as she followed her new pal into the cottage.

  They jitterbugged their way through the living room to the bedroom, and I stayed on the swing for a while, swinging and humming “In the Mood,” and taking the night air.

  Joe Don Kendrick was happy about two things as he pulled his Jeep into the driveway of his modest rented house in Brookhaven: He had made it home without incident, and had forgotten to turn off his front-porch light. The moths and bugs circling the old bulb were a welcome sight for a change. Fumbling in the dark for his house key would have been too much aggravation after the way the evening had gone. The frustration he’d felt at the party might have boiled over if one more thing had gone wrong.

  For several minutes on the way home, a police car had been right on his tail. If the cop had decided to pull him over, it would have been a jail cell for sure. But luckily, when Joe Don had turned on to his street, the cop hadn’t followed.

  He turned off the ignition, and stepped out into the cool night air, his head still fuzzy. He was glad he’d left his ice chests behind; if not, he might have been tempted to drink more on the way home. He felt the effects of every single one of the longnecks he’d guzzled before leaving the party without letting anyone know. All he wanted at that moment was to get inside his house, wash down three aspirin with a bottle of water, and watch TV until he fell asleep.

  Joe Don walked on the concrete path towards the front door, and was ten feet from the porch when he felt a burning pain in his right thigh. Two seconds later, before he could figure out what was happening, he felt the same thing in his left thigh.

  Suddenly sober, he looked down and saw blood spurting out of each thigh wound, and slumped to his knees on the grass next to the walkway. He tried to staunch the blood flow, but knew from his college biology class there were arteries in the thigh that meant certain death if severed.

  And both of his were severed.

  Another sharp sting struck the back of his neck, and suddenly in front of his face he saw a gloved hand holding the instrument of his death: A huge hunting knife, dripping with his own blood, clearly visible in the light coming from the porch.

  His tormentor walked around in front of him as Joe Don fell forward, now on all fours, blood pouring from his thigh wounds at an alarming rate, and from his neck as well. He strained to look up at his executioner, and felt the knife slash his throat, but Joe Don Kendrick was beyond pain at that point.

  The killer squatted down in front of him, and smiled at Joe Don’s dazed expression, clearly enjoying the agony of the moment.

  Joe Don looked into the eyes of the last person he would see on Earth, and thought his final thought:

  “I know that face.”

  59

  I WAS IN DEEP SLEEP MODE ON THE SOFA IN THE LIVING ROOM, WHEN a pair of soft lips kissed mine, and a hand slid under the waistband of my boxers.

  My eyes still closed, I said softly, “Cherry, do you really think it’s wise to be doing that right now? What if Chief Penny wakes up? She’ll kill us both.”

  “Good one,” Penny said, her lips now on my ear.

  “Oh. It’s you. I thought—”

  “No, you wished,” she said, laughing softly. “Come with me, I have something to show you. A little surprise I cooked up.”

  “Another surprise? At this time of night? Can’t it wait until morning?”

  On her knees beside the sofa, Penny tugged at my tee shirt, and said, “Trust me on this. I have reason to believe that you won’t regret accompanying me. In fact, I can guarantee that you won’t be disappointed in any way, form, or fashion.”

  Sleepily, I sat up, my eyes still closed, and leaned against her shoulder.

  She helped me to my feet, and I opened my eyes. I could see in the dim light of the room that Penny was wearing her white satin robe that she puts on after swimming. It has short sleeves, and stops covering her at about midthigh. She quickly opened and closed it, and I could see that she was not wearing anything underneath. That woke me up immediately, and Penny was proven correct. I was not disappointed in any way, form, or fashion.

  She took my hand and led me towards the front door, both of us trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb our guest.

  I asked, “Are you sure Cherry’s asleep?”

  “I’ve been up since we went to bed. Cherry went to sleep instantly, but I’ve been wide awake, starin’ at the ceiling. All the dancing and excitement of our little party has me all keyed up. I can’t get to sleep, can’t even keep my feet from tappin’. For the last forty-five minutes, I’ve been setting up your little surprise, doin’ all kinds of stuff, makin’ a phone call, and movin’ all over the house. I just checked on Cherry before I came to get you, and
she hasn’t moved an inch. She’s sleeping like a log. A gorgeous, world-famous log. To answer your question, I’m sure she’s asleep,” Penny said, and squeezed my hand.

  “I don’t know about this. Should we really leave Cherry here alone?”

  “Earl’s out on the porch, armed and ready. The phone call I made was to him. I told ’im he could have a day off with pay and I’d cover for ’im if he’d come over and guard Cherry for a while so you and I could have a date.”

  “I like the way you think, Chief Prevost,” I said.

  “I thought you might.” She picked up her raincoat from the coffee table, put it on, and said, “This little show is for your eyes only. Get your Glock—mine’s in my coat—and let’s go dance on the beach.”

  I got up, took my gun from the end table, and said, “Lead on.” The screen door squeaked loudly as we tiptoed through it onto the porch, and we stifled our laughter like kids in church. Earl was sitting on the swing, his .45 in one hand and a shotgun in the other. He said in a low voice, “Hi, Coop. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Penny said I only get my day off after all this dies down, and if I tell, she’ll make me work every holiday for the next five years.”

  I smiled and whispered, “Don’t mess with her, Earl. She’ll do a lot worse.”

  Penny said, “Watch out for our girl.”

  “Ten-four. Y’all be careful, and don’t get caught,” he said, and went inside, causing another door squeak.

  Penny and I held hands as we walked down the steps, and when we got to the sand, she led me west of the cottage, towards a line of sand dunes. The night was cool but not uncomfortable, and there was a good deal of light coming from the moon, which had been full only a few days before. After we were down the beach a ways, Penny took off her raincoat, and did a turn. Her long black hair was down and gleamed in the moonlight, and she filled out the shiny white robe in all the right spots.

  “Let’s live dangerously,” she said with a laugh.

  When we got to the dunes, she pulled me over the highest one, and I got my surprise. There on the sand below was her beach blanket, a dark green king-sized velvet bedspread that had once been on her uncle Stan’s bed in Pensacola. Stan must have gone through a hipster phase in the seventies. The thing looked like something out of a California swinger’s pad, with fringe all around it. But it’s the best beach blanket on the planet, without question.

  On the blanket was a portable CD player softly playing classical music, and four fat candles set at each corner, blazing away. There was also a bucket filled with ice water, chilling a bottle of champagne that I knew for a fact had been in the fridge since I got back from New Orleans last year. Penny said it was only for a special occasion, and boy, did she turn out to be right about that. “Special” actually isn’t a special-enough word for how the scene was set, but it’s the best I can do. “Romantic” is not a word I use very often, but this was the definition of it, and maybe a little bit more.

  We walked slowly down the dune, our feet digging into the sugary-white sand, placed our weapons down within reach, and took a seat on the velvet blanket.

  Penny asked, “Want some champagne?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  She reached behind the bucket and took two champagne flutes from a pillowcase. I took the champagne out and opened it the way a wine-expert friend of mine taught me. I undid the foil, twisted the metal cage from the cork, held the cork tightly, then slowly turned the bottle until a soft pop signaled that the champagne was ready to pour. Penny held the two glasses out in front of me and I poured, waiting until the foam went down before pouring in a little more. I corked the bottle and put it back in the ice water, took a flute from Penny, and made a toast: “Here’s to the sexiest damn police chief in the entire world.”

  Penny said, “And here’s to the second sexiest damn police chief in the entire world.”

  We clinked glasses, took a sip, and savored every drop. The champagne had been a gift from Susan, and was very—and I do mean very—expensive. Susan wouldn’t tell me when I asked how much it cost, but Neal did after I got him alone. Let’s just say it was ridiculous, and let it go at that. Dom Pérignon? Please. Cristal? I laugh at you!

  I looked around at the candles, rubbed my hand on the blanket, and said, “Well, Chief Prevost. This is a side of you I never see at the office. Just exactly what did you have in mind, bringin’ me out here like this?”

  Penny took another sip of champagne, probably fifty dollars’ worth, and said, “Look here, son. You just do as you’re told, and nobody gets hurt.”

  “So that’s how it is. You realize, of course, this is a clear-cut case of sexual harassment.”

  Penny said, “File a complaint and have it on my desk by Monday morning.”

  “Oh, you can bet I will. But right now, I’m not sure where all this is headed.”

  “Just do what you’re told.”

  “And nobody gets hurt?”

  “You got it,” she said.

  “Whatta ya want from me?”

  “Finish your champagne, put down your glass, and stand up right here in front of me.”

  Not wanting to get hurt, I emptied my drink in one pricey guzzle, put down my glass, and got to my feet.

  “Closer,” she said gruffly, and polished off her champagne.

  I obeyed, and moved to within a foot of her face. She tossed her empty champagne flute onto the sand, and slowly began to pull my boxers down.

  She said, “As for your sexual harassment case, I don’t think you have a leg to stand on.”

  “It’s not my leg I’m worried about.”

  Penny said, “Well, from the looks of it, you probably could stand on this.”

  “You keep doin’ that, and I probably could.”

  “Shut up and lie down,” she said.

  “Yes sir, Chief.”

  I pulled off my shirt, and lay on my back on the blanket, feeling like a true swinging Californian. On the beach, long after midnight, with soft music, bright moonlight, and the taste of fine champagne. What more could a guy ask for?

  Oh, yeah. That.

  Penny started to take care of that when, still on her knees, she untied her robe, pulled it off, and tossed it beside me on the blanket.

  Now naked as me, she leaned down and kissed me softly.

  I pulled away, and asked, “What about the champagne?”

  “What about it?” she said as she nibbled my ear.

  “Well, it’s a very expensive bottle of wine. Seems to me we should treat it with respect.”

  She said in my ear, “Lie back, and shut up.”

  I did as I was told. After several minutes, she stopped and sat up.

  “That was amazing,” I said groggily. “Talk about living dangerously.”

  Without a word, she put her leg over mine, took me in her hand, and slowly mounted me, taking her sweet time doing it.

  “How’s that feel, you lowly subordinate?” she asked, as she took me inside.

  “Terrible. I hate it.”

  “Me, too,” Penny said, and began to slowly move her hips.

  Her hands were on my belly, and her hair had fallen down in front of her, blocking my view. I reached up and pushed her hair back over her shoulders, exposing one of my favorite sights: The tan line on her chest. I love the way her breasts are white at the bottom, and deep tan on the top. I also love the feel of them, and the way she reacts.

  She leaned down, and as I raised my head up to kiss her, her hair fell onto my face. I had my hands full as her chest came down to meet mine.

  Turns out it’s not so bad being Penny’s bicycle.

  60

  CHERRY WOKE UP IN THE SEMI-DARKNESS, AND FOR A MOMENT DIDN’T realize where she was. The curtains were open, and moonlight shone brightly through the window. She then remembered she was in Florida, lying in Penny’s bed. She looked over and noted that Penny wasn’t there.

  She sat up and listened to see if she could hear anyone in the house. The
silence almost convinced her she was alone, but she got up and walked slowly to the door.

  Opening it inch by inch, she expected to hear Penny or Cooper’s voice at any moment, but heard nothing. She took Penny’s bathrobe from the hook on the door, put it on, and crept into the living room. She could see by the light of the TV that a man was sitting on the sofa, watching with the sound off. She froze when she realized the man wasn’t Cooper.

  Earl saw her, jumped up, and said, “It’s okay, Miss Page! I’m a police officer. I mean, I work here. I mean, in Gulf Front. Penny called me to come over so she could, uh, go on a date with Coop on the beach, and it’s okay, really. I’m Earl.”

  Cherry relaxed, smiled, and said, “How do you do, Earl. I’m happy to meet you. I’m also happy that you’re a policeman and not a crazed killer. My heart stopped there for a moment.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I had the sound down so I wouldn’t wake you.”

  Cherry said, “You didn’t wake me. I just wanted a glass of water, is all. I’ll get one and go back to bed.”

  “Yes ma’am, you’re welcome to do whatever you want to. I’ll be here ’til they get back, and you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  “I’m sure I don’t, and thank you.”

  Earl sat back down, and Cherry went into the kitchen and pretended to drink. She ran some water and thought about Cooper and Penny and a date on the beach. The only sound in the cottage was the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the kitchen clock, a black cat whose tail was a pendulum.

  She thought about the danger she was facing, but remembered her pledge to get on with her life. Besides, whoever had come to town and attacked Penny was long gone by now. She knew it might still be risky, if not insane, but she suddenly had the urge to go for a walk on the beach.

  She walked back towards Earl, leaned into his vision, yawned, and said, “I’m off to bed. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same here, Miss Page, and don’t you worry. You’re safe with me here,” Earl said.

  “Thank you so much. G’night.”