by John Locke
“I dared him to try.”
“Why?”
“I’m just messin’ with him,” I said.
“There are easier ways to land a man, Trudy.”
“He’s not a man, Daddy, he’s a world-famous doctor.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t like it.”
I threw a pout and said, “You never let me have any fun!”
“Fine. Whatever,” he said, and left the cuffs where they could be stolen.
When the fun started between me and the doc, I saw Daddy sneakin’ up on us. I figured he was just gonna scare Dr. Box and we’d all have a laugh, but Daddy punched him in the back of the head.
“Why’d you hit him so hard?” I yell.
“He was molestin’ you!”
“Oh, fiddle,” I say.
“Where’s the key?”
“In his pocket.”
He gets the key out and unlocks me and says, “Fiddle? What the hell are you talkin’ about, girl? You got more action just now than I did on my weddin’ night!”
“You’re crazy. Doc Blanchard gets more titty durin’ my annual physical.”
“If that’s true, I’ll be payin’ him a visit after this.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s a routine medical procedure. And anyway, they’re both doctors.”
“Does your annual physical with Doc Blanchard include the kind of kissin’ I just witnessed?”
I frown.
We’re standin’ over Dr. Box, who’s laid out on the ground like a possum pelt.
“Look what you’ve done!” I say. “How hurt is he?”
“Why do you care? I’m gonna kill him anyway.”
“You’ll do no such thing! He’s my way out.”
Daddy sighs. “Pumpkin, there are easier ways to get out of this town. Plus, you just met him. He’s probably married, with six kids.”
“He was gonna give me a big tip tonight.”
“Let’s see.”
Daddy goes through Dr. Box’s wallet and pockets, finds some bills, counts them out. “How’s eighteen hundred sound?”
“He’s carryin’ that much?”
“He’s carryin’ thirty-six hundred, to be exact.”
“You’re takin’ half?”
“Seems fittin’.”
“Why?”
“He’d bribe me at least eighteen hundred to escape an attempted rape charge, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. But I don’t want you to run him off, Daddy.”
“Trust me, this guy’s scum.”
“He’s rich, and he likes me.”
“He may be rich, and he may like you for a night or two, but you need to take this eighteen hundred, get yourself a car, and drive to a better place so you can start a new life.”
I frown. “Eighteen hundred ain’t but a start for that type of plan. I’d need twice that, at least.”
He sighs. “Fine. Here. Take it all. But when you go, don’t look back.”
“What about Dr. Box?”
“I’ll send him packin’. After we have a little talk.”
“You’re gonna tell him to never see me again.”
“That’s right. And someday you’ll thank me for it.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Wait here and call Kennon to cover your shift. I’ll be right back.”
He circles the restaurant to the parking lot, drives Dr. Box’s rental car over to where I’m standin’. Then he pushes Dr. Box into the back seat and tells me to drive to Jake Thatcher’s old barn.
All the way to Thatcher’s, I think about drivin’ off with Dr. Box, but Daddy’s behind me in his squad car, and I’d never get away. But I’m also thinkin’ how I’m gonna write Dr. Box a message about how to contact me after Daddy throws him out of town.
When we get to Thatcher’s, Daddy drags Dr. Box inside, handcuffs him, and starts tying him to a chair.
“This where you interrogate your prisoners?” I say.
“It is. Now go out to the car and wait. And do not come back in here.”
“Can I ask a favor?” I say.
“What?”
“Before you let him go, kick him in the nuts.”
“What?”
“Twice. And don’t hold back.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
“You never fail to surprise me, Trudy.”
I do have my reasons. I aim to drive out of town with Dr. Box later tonight, and don’t want sex on his mind for at least a day or two while I decide what I want from the relationship, if anythin’.
While Daddy’s tyin’ Dr. Box up good and tight to the chair, I climb in the rental car and dig a pen and paper from my purse and start writin’ him a note. I hear the sound of a trunk slammin’ shut and look up to see Daddy carryin’ a long rope into the barn. I finish writin’ the letter and put it in the console between the seats, figurin’ Dr. Box will check to see if there might be somethin’ in the console he can use to stop the bleedin’ Daddy’ll cause durin’ the course of his interrogation.
Two minutes passes, then I hear a terrible noise. It’s dark, but I can tell half the barn roof has come crashin’ down!
9
Dr. Gideon Box.
Deputy Scooter Bing kicked the chair out from under me to start the hanging, but the beam couldn’t handle the weight, and broke. I fell to the ground. There was a split-second pause before the roof came crashing down.
It wasn’t much of a roof, but it was board and tin and heavy enough to kill me. I counted my blessings at having cheated death two times in the space of thirty seconds. As I pulled the rope off my neck, Trudy ran into the barn yelling, “What the hell happened? Is everyone okay?”
She saw me moving around and said, “Where’s Daddy?”
Turns out Deputy Bing was alive, but his right leg was trapped under one of the rafters. Trudy and I pulled it off him and found his leg was broken.
“Other than that, is he okay?” Trudy asks.
“Yeah, but we should get him to the hospital.”
“Daddy?” she says. “You got what you deserve for tryin’ to hang my boyfriend.”
She unhooks my cell phone from his belt and gives it to me.
“You’re not gonna leave me here, are you?” Scooter says.
“I’d take you to the hospital, but sure as shit you’d just wind up throwin’ poor Dr. Box in jail. So we’re gonna leave now. I’ll call an ambulance to take you to the county hospital. And tomorrow I’ll call to make sure you’re okay. But we’re gonna head out now.”
She looks at me and says, “Are you fit to walk?”
“I’d be fitter if he hadn’t kicked me in the nuts.”
Trudy said, “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, sugar,” he says. “But I’m afraid you’ve got yourself a bad doctor.”
“Time will tell,” she says. “Let’s go, Doc.”
“It’s been a pleasure,” I say to Deputy Bing as I step over his body.
“She’s a good girl,” he says. “Don’t treat her badly.”
I wait till Trudy’s nearly out the barn before whispering, “Every time I fuck her I’ll think of you.”
I get about ten feet before he says, “I’ll be sure to tell Darrell you said that.”
I stop and turn. “Who’s Darrell?”
“You’ll see.”
10
When I exit what’s left of the barn I notice Trudy’s in the driver’s seat.
I open the passenger door and lean in.
“Not to be rude, but that man looks way too old to be your father.”
“He’s had a rough life.”
“How old is he?”
“You mean because he looks too old to be my Daddy?”
“Well, yes. To be frank about it.”
“He started another family before he met Mom. She was much younger.”
She looks at me, smiles, and says, “Guess she was a lot like me.”
“In what way?”
/> “Attracted to older men.”
I smile.
She says, “Aren’t you gettin’ in the car?”
“Who’s Darrell?”
She frowns. “Scooter told you about Darrell?”
“Just in passing. Who is he?”
“My brother.”
“Will he be mad at me, too?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should I be worried?”
“No, of course not, honey!”
“Where are we going?”
“Your place.”
“I haven’t booked a room yet.”
“No. I mean, your place. New York City.”
“This is a rental car.”
“I know. You got it in Nashville. At the airport.”
She can tell I’m puzzled, so she adds, “The rental agreement’s in the glove box. I read it while waitin’ for you. So anyway, I’ll drive us to Nashville, we’ll catch an early mornin’ flight, and be home by noon.”
“Home?”
“I’ve decided to move in with you.”
“Seriously?”
“How could I not? We’re practically engaged.”
I hold up a hand.
“What?” she says.
“First things first.”
I open the glove box, pop the trunk.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t leave him like this. He’s in pain.”
“The man tried to hang you.”
“Good point.”
“And anyway, we’re gonna call an ambulance from the highway, remember?”
“I know. But in the meantime, he could go into shock.”
“Is there something you can do to prevent that?”
“My medical bag’s in the wheel well, under the spare tire.”
“Okay, but let’s do this quickly, okay?”
“Why the rush?”
“I don’t expect you to understand, but I’ve tried to escape this town six times and never got past Starbucks. Somethin’ always happens at the last second.”
“You’ve got a Starbuck’s here in Clayton? No shit?”
“No, of course not. Starbucks is a town, twenty miles south of here.”
I grab my bag and a towel from my suit bag, and head back inside. Trudy’s a step behind saying, “Who packs a beach towel to go to Western Kentucky?”
“Believe it or not,” I say, “Clayton wasn’t my destination.”
“Where were you headed?”
“Ralston.”
“Why?”
“It’s personal.”
“Personal means a woman. It’s a woman, right?”
I sigh.
Trudy says, “Good thing you met me when you did.”
“Why’s that?”
“Whoever she is, I’m way more fun.”
I stop a moment to look at her.
She shrugs. “It’s true, Gideon.”
I say, “In the two hours I’ve been here, I’ve been knocked out cold, tied to a chair, hung by my neck to die, and had a roof come crashing down on me.”
“So?”
“Where’s all this fun you’re talking about?”
“Are you always this negative?”
“Yes.”
“You know how I see the last two hours?”
“Tell me.”
“You had a wonderful home-cooked meal, you French-kissed the Wilford County homecomin’ queen, you felt her up, and found true love.”
“True love?”
“Well, far as you know.”
“What does that mean?”
“I got a feelin’ about you. And you’re about to get me on a road trip. Not many men can say that.”
“How many, exactly?”
“Let’s just fix my Daddy’s leg and get out of here,” she says.
As we approach Scooter, he says, “Don’t let him touch me, Trudy. He’s gonna give me an overdose and kill me.”
“Don’t be silly, Daddy. He’s a doctor. And a damn fine one, too.”
“You’ve only got his word for that.”
“I trust him. Now let him give you somethin’ for the pain.”
As I cover him with my beach towel he says to Trudy, “You know what he said to me a minute ago?”
“What’s that, Daddy?”
“He said he was gonna think about me every time he fucks you.”
She looks at me and says, “You said that?”
I shrug, check his pulse.
She says, “Well, how thoughtful is that! Weird, but thoughtful.”
She thinks on it a minute, while I check his pupils with my penlight, then says, “More weird than thoughtful, I think.”
By then I’ve given him a shot of morphine. When he seems stable, we head for the car.
11
“Can we go now?” she says.
We’re in the car again, but this time I’m holding the keys.
“Look,” I say. “I appreciate the compliment, I really do. And I understand how things happen at warp speed in small towns. But I met you exactly two hours ago. And while this might come as a shock, I’m not ready to let you move in with me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t even know your middle name.”
“Leigh. Can we go now?”
I shake my head. “That was a figure of speech. What I mean is I don’t know you well enough to take on whatever baggage you might bring.”
“Like what?”
“Your father’s the deputy sheriff. He tried to hang me just now. And your brother sounds scary.”
“All you’ve heard about my brother is his name.”
“The way your father said his name was scary.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Gideon?”
“Sorry.”
She sighs heavily. “How long would it take you to know me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t be puttin’ too much time into this relationship if it’s not goin’ anywhere.”
“It’s not so much a time thing.”
“Then what is it?”
“I can’t just take you out of town with me.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, I don’t even know if we’re compatible yet.”
“Our kiss didn’t tell you that?”
“Sex would say it better.”
She frowns. “Are you playin’ me?”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“What type of girl would I be if I dropped my drawers for the first guy who offered to drive me out of town?”
“Based on what you said, I might be the seventh guy.”
“You’re makin’ way too many assumptions about my last six attempts to escape this shit hole. For your information, I only ran off with one man. The other times were on my own.”
“What happened to him?”
“Who?”
“The guy you ran off with?”
“It didn’t take.”
“Which is my point exactly.”
“Again, you’re makin’ way too many assumptions. The reason it didn’t take is because he died.”
“Excuse me?”
“He had a heart attack.”
“Where?”
“Starbucks.”
“The town?”
“The motel at Starbucks. I don’t like to talk about it.”
“He died during sex?”
“Just before.”
“How old was he?”
“Old.”
“Like what, sixty?”
“Older.”
“Eighty?”
“Let’s talk about somethin’ else, okay? ’Cause you’re really killin’ the mood here.”
I don’t want to talk about something else. I want to ask how long she’d known this octogenarian before he agreed to run off with her. I want to ask if she met him at the restaurant, same as me. I want to know if she made him steal the handcuffs while Scooter was taking a shit. I want to ask if he cuffed her to the f
ence. I want to know how far he got with her before his heart gave out.
But what I say is, “Tell me where you live, and I’ll take you home.”
“Call my cell phone first.”
“Why?”
“So I’ll have your number.”
She gives me her number and I call her cell phone.
“This is Trudy,” she says. “Who’s this?”
“Funny. Where do you live?”
“I’ll tell you after you check into the Dew Drop Inn.”
“Let me guess. That’s your only hotel?”
“Motel. And yes.”
“Sounds like a dump.”
“A dump would be a step up.”
“That’s probably not going to work out for me.”
“If I come by later, you won’t even notice the room.”
“Are you planning to come by?”
“I’d like to, but I need to think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?”
“You ever go to auctions?”
“Sometimes.”
“Would you spend every nickel you had on a painting that might be a fake?”
“What’s your point?”
“All I’ve got is my body. If I give it to you tonight, I’ll have nothin’ left to bargain with. You already proved you’re the type of man who expects sex before you’ll give me a chance to show what a great girlfriend I can be. I have to decide if you’re also the kind of man who’d walk away after gettin’ what he wants.”
“Nice speech.”
“Thanks. It ought to be. I’ve had a lot of practice givin’ it.”
“You managed to make it seem normal that I should let you move in with me based on a hot meal and a hanging.”
“And a hand job.”
“Excuse me?”
“Unzip your pants.”
“Uh…shouldn’t we call for an ambulance first? For your father?”
She reaches over and starts rubbing me.
“I’ll leave that decision up to you, Doctor.”
I’m still in pain from the crotch-kicking I received a few minutes ago, but then I remember that sometimes rubbing a sore spot can help the pain go away.
“Scooter should be fine for a while,” I say.
12
Trudy Lake.
There’s an art to givin’ a good hand job.
Most girls concentrate on the shaft, and feel they need to expend a great deal of energy.
They’re wrong.
In my experience, the sweet spots are the head of the penis, and the balls. It’s probably eighty percent head, twenty percent balls. You’d be amazed how fast I can get a guy off by rhythmically ticklin’ his balls and massagin’ just the head of his penis.
