“That’s what I tell my peppermint schnapps,” said Jack, squeezing Linda’s waist.
As I had promised, Julia showed up a few minutes later, her head down, her arms in front of her like a boxing stance as she pounded up the driveway to the doctor’s front door. She jogged in place while he kissed her, then took off like a sprite, Lee striving dutifully to keep up.
She always bolted ahead of him but lagged on the final laps leading home, trailing behind, and slowing to a walk as she passed my fence. I guess she never learned how to pace herself. It was one of the things I noticed about Lee. Every movement was measured and fit into compartments of time. He never really hurried, only moved as quickly as necessary, because every miscalculation made in haste is a wasted movement. She shot ahead. He kept a steady rhythm. When she tired, he passed by her like the rabbit and the tortoise.
Buck Knife watched her performance with interest. He stood up and walked around to the corner post of the porch to make sure she could see him while she waited for the doctor to come out. She glanced up and he fiddled in his breast pocket like he was fishing for something, then turned his back on her. She tossed her head and tilted her face to kiss the doctor as he came to the door. Before he had taken his first step, she was dashing out to the sidewalk. As she ran around the corner, she looked back - not at the doctor, but up at Buck Knife.
Buck Knife remained beside the post so I wandered over to join him. He sort of reminded me of a cowboy. He was wearing wool socks instead of sandals. Attached to his hip by his belt was a stiff leather holder for a large blade snap knife. He sat against the railing and lit a hand-rolled cigarette. He grinned. “Oh, she’s got the feel of it, alright.”
“Really?”
“Wound up, tight as a spring. She probably likes that little mental burst cocaine gives you. It could have been her edge for a while, you know. But you abuse it, you lose it. I think she decided to lose it but she wants it. She’s looking.”
It probably isn’t right to prey on somebody’s weaknesses, but if anyone deserved it, it was Julia Hastings. When she passed by our house, out of breath as always, she spent a long time looking up at the porch and at Buck Knife, who seemed to ignore her.
The good weather held out for several days. Buck Knife was so distracting to Julia, that life almost returned to normal. Neighbors began visiting once more, lining up on the steps for coffee and donuts. Ralph motorized himself around the block. The people across the street stoked up their fire pit.
Briana was just being herself, but herself added oil to Julia’s fire. She hooked herself onto Buck Knife, admiring everything about him and taking an enormous interest in all his pockets. Buck Knife liked Briana though, and not in the throw away sort of way. He understood her and I think in her blithe, unformulated way, she understood him. They kissed on the porch. They groped each other on the porch, and sometimes he would give her a little tweet that would make her whoop. Julia’s eyes began to gleam with hatred.
I knew drug dealers were discreet, but I never saw when Buck Knife connected with her. I only know that she began to be a little more spritely when she passed our house, and a little more impatient with the doctor. In fact, several times we heard them quarrel and one time I heard him ask, “Why did you come back, Julia, when you hate it here?”
I held my breath, waiting for the answer, but she just said, “It’s none of your business.”
To all appearances, Buck Knife was in no hurry to leave. He helped us rototill out our garden, although another rain spell hit before we could plant it. He went to open market at the Seattle port with us and bought a dozen silly touristy things. He took us all for a sky ride. He showed us a little country nightclub where the cowboys were all Washington boys raised on Washington milk and beef, taught to use a sledge hammer by age ten.
He grew on us, making me sort of wish he would stay, but one evening, while we relaxed in the living room, he told us he was leaving. “She wanted to buy a full ounce from me,” he said. “I only had a few grams. It’s gone.”
“Did you get a photo?”
“She’s not that careless, but she’ll be around. She thinks Zeke’s dealing.”
“Not me!” Said Zeke, looking around quickly. “Anyway, I know why she left San Diego. She was caught having an affair with the Assistant Director at the Primary Care Facility.”
“Oh, she’s nasty,” said Briana gaily.
“Well, don’t be surprised if she comes around looking for a high. She definitely has the habit.”
Now that we knew the truth about Julia, we needed a way to make her fall. As it turned out, she tripped up just the way Buck Knife said she would.
We seized the first clear day to plant our garden. The soil was still incredibly soggy, but it was fun to feel it slip between our fingers and toes. It was warm enough to rinse off with the hose every time we felt we had made a complete mess of ourselves, which was often and really didn’t help in drying out the back yard.
We had planted nearly all our seeds when we heard a knock at the gate. Since the gate was open, we looked at each other in surprise. “The force field is down,” I yelled out, not bothering to see who it was.
Our visitor drew close enough to cast a shadow. “You all look like you’re enjoying yourselves. Are you planting medicinal herb?”
“Carrots and potatoes. What do you want, Julia?”
She winced. She preferred to be called Dr. Hastings. “I thought since we’re practically neighbors, we could all be friends.”
“We’re not practically neighbors. You live four blocks down. Lee Andrews is our neighbor.”
“And I’m very neighborly with Lee Andrews. I didn’t come here to start a quarrel. I was just wandering, you know, if Buck Knife left you anything.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her eyes fastened on Zeke. “But you do, don’t you,” she said, walking over to him. Her fingers went up and down his shirt as though he had buttons she was trying to straighten.
“Sorry, lady, the only thing Buck Knife left me was a little advice about women who use men.” He pulled her hands away from him. “They’re dangerous.”
She slapped him! I was shocked. Women petted Zeke. They cuddled Zeke. They kissed Zeke. They were happy to be around him, but they never, ever slapped him.
Like a mama bear, I tore at her, my claws showing. I pushed her down in the mud then jumped on top of her, tearing at her goofy, animated cartoon hair, yanking her clothing up around her flat chest. Burke tried to get me off her and Briana attacked him.
Julia became so slippery, she was difficult to hold. With her first moment of freedom, she yanked Zeke’s ankle, sending him tumbling down with the rest of us. Linda and Jack tried to break us up, which wasn’t a good idea, either. I was determined to beat the living daylights out of Julia and Julia was determined to strangle Zeke. Over and over, we wrestled with each other, dragging in anyone who tried to get between us.
All the commotion finally caught the doctor’s attention. He rounded the fence to stand at the entrance to our backyard and gaped in amazement. He grabbed the garden hose and began hosing us down. “What the hell? Julia, what are you doing here? Why are you fighting with the neighbors?”
“The little junkies,” she hissed. “God knows what they’ve been doing. Shooting up in corners, snorting blow all day long. I caught them! It came to my attention and I caught them!”
“Why don’t you tell the truth?” Screamed Briana. “Tell the doctor what we already know. Tell him how much you were rubbing all over Buck Knife. Tell him why you left San Diego. Tell him, Dr. Hastings!”
Julia spat, but instead of attacking Briana, she made a beeline for Dr. Andrews and tried to wrestle the hose out of him. It didn’t take but a minute for him to slip as well. It became difficult to discern who was fighting who as the fray became a free for all. Somebody even dashed over with a plastic water slide and half a dozen people took turns rolling in the mud and slipping down the slide with the water hose hurrying
them along from behind.
I began feeling sluggish. My clothing was saturated with mud, and I could barely lift an arm before I was dragged slipping and sliding back into the tussle. We were flopping like fish in a tide pool. Lee struggled to his knees, panting. Next to him, Julia and I were still rolling over the top of each other, my hands locked around her wrists, her legs beating against my hips. “Julia,” the doctor asked. “Why are you stooping to their level?”
Julia slipped out of my hold and gave a swing for the doctor’s head, missing him but causing him to slip again. Before Julia could swing one more punch, Linda grabbed her by the back of the neck. In the grip of a six foot Amazon, Julia knew she was defeated and just hung there limply. In her soft southern drawl, Linda said, “honey, we’ve never stooped down to the levels this woman has gone to.”
“She was making out with Buck Knife because he had cocaine,” blurted Briana.
He looked at Julia with surprise. “Is that true?”
“Fuck off,” she said, pulling her shirt together. When Linda set her free, she stalked out the gate and down the street.
Briana followed behind for a few seconds, slinging mud at her flat ass. “You’d better leave, skank! This community’s not taking any more of your shit.”
“You’re so good for it, loose legs?” She screamed back. “You’re druggies, users, and losers!”
“How did the wife feel when she found out about your affair with the assistant director?”
When women are mad and stalk off, they wriggle. It can’t be helped, but a woman who is straight as a board and wriggles looks a little strange. Her hips pushed her forward, jangled and confused by the swaying rhythm.
Dr. Andrews sat in the mud next to me. The excitement over, half the crowd wandered home, while the other half felt they needed a little more water play to wash the mud off. I laid on my back, panting. My clothing molded to my body and heaved up and down while I breathed. “I was so stupid, stupid, stupid!” Said the doctor.
I struggled to sit up and he gave me a hand. “I knew she had a drug problem,” he admitted. “I’ve known her since college days. We all used to snort a little now and then. That’s what college kids do, but Julia developed a habit. She tried to kick it. I thought she had kicked it. I didn’t see her for several years after I acquired my internship. She interned at a medical facility in Portland. I interned at the University of Washington.”
“You were in love with her?”
“I was, for a long time, or I think I was. She was Ivy League. My dad was a post master. My mother a kindergarten teacher. I made it through school primarily on scholarships and student loans. I couldn’t afford to let my scores drop. Julia didn’t really care. She was covered.
She wasn’t really a top–notch student. She’s not really a top-notch doctor, just an adequate one. But she was everything I had ever dreamed about, I thought.”
“Sometimes we see only what we want to see.”
“I knew she was getting coke from your dad. I blamed him.”
“Did you know about their partnership?”
“What partnership?”
Either he was the world’s best liar, or he really didn’t know. “It doesn’t matter.”
We helped each other to our feet. If we were disgraceful, we weren’t any worse off than any other. Those who were tired of frolicking were laying in the sun, the wet clothes plastered to their bodies so transparent, they may as well be naked. “Would you like to come over to my house to shower off?” Asked the doctor. “I think your bathroom is going to be busy for a while.”
“You know I’m pretty mad at you,” I said, walking stiffly beside him.
“You should be. I judged you unfairly. I’ve wanted to tell you… You’ve been good for the morale of the community. People are happier. They get out more. They eat better. You’re always so bubbly, I used to think it was because you didn’t know anything. Nobody could be happy if they’ve seen the dark side of life. It isn’t that at all. You know about the dark side. You just don’t turn out your light.”
“I’m still mad.”
“And I’m really, really sorry. I was starting to have feelings for you. You are so alive. You are a burst of cherries every day. When Julia came back, she brought back all those old memories. It was unfair. I was unfair. Please say you’ll forgive me.”
“Let me shower first, then I’ll think about it.”
Dr. Andrews’ house was a modern ranch style. It was one of a scattering that was slowly replacing the rambling, clapboard houses of the mid twentieth-century. It's leaner size meant a larger front yard, but this yard was dominated by a number of flowering shrubs that lined up against one side of the house and along the far fence. The driveway was paved, but the walkway and patio floor were laid with an inset stone pattern.
The house had a white spackled ceiling throughout, interspersed with squares of built-in lighting set on dim, except in the bathroom, which shone with the brilliance of an operating room. It was all white tile, stainless steel, and porcelain. A series of mirrors allowed me to see every inch, every crevice, every line and curve of my body without flattering shadows or limited viewing room. I felt a little embarrassed and shut the door immediately.
The shower stall was large, glassed in, and included a tub with Jacuzzi at the far end. The shower itself contained three spigots, all set with directional controls and volume settings. I started my shower, experimenting with the numerous dials. As I loosened the grime from my hair and watched it roll down my arms, I began to feel warm and normal again. I could forgive Lee Andrews, perhaps, after a few more showers at his house.
I heard a knock at the glass. I slid it open a few inches. “Here are some fresh towels and a robe,” said the doctor, keeping his head down. I began to relent. The caked mud in his hair and clothing was beginning to dry. It looked like cracks in his once invisible armor.
“You’re very appealing when you’re humble,” I said. “You should try it more often.”
He started to turn away. “You can come in, Lee, if you want. I’m finished.”
He undressed and passed by me, the closeness of his body next to mine sending my hormones into a fever pitch. “I’ll wash your hair,” I said. He didn’t object.
I shampooed his hair gently, the way Linda had taught, diluting it and easing it into his scalp. My hands strayed down to his slightly scratchy face, soaping it and shaving away the stubble. I spread the suds across his arms and shoulders, then traveled downward and over his magnificent chest. His olive skin was already turning to tan and glistened under the water stream. A wide mat of curling hair began at his chest, then narrowed and became softer and finer as it trickled below his belly button.
“Don’t,” he said, stopping me before I had finished washing him. “You’re always giving to others. Not this time. I want to give something to you.”
We finished rinsing off and he helped me out of the shower like a gentleman leading a lady through the door and wrapped a towel around me. He tucked another towel around his waist and showed me the way to the bedroom.
It was a guy room, just as his house was a guy house. Dark, heavy drapes hung straight down from their drawn back position on either side of slanted Venetian curtains. A king size bed was covered by taut blankets folded in at the corners, military style. His dresser was made from a thick hardwood and contained only a small assortment of grooming items, along with two family pictures.
He guided me gently to the bed. I sat down. The mattress was firm but comfortable. He began drying me off. The thick rub of the terry cloth was soothing. All I wanted to do was lay back and relax. I did, and he rolled me over so I was on my stomach.
I could smell the massage oil as he opened it and poured some into his hands. It had a faint, jasmine scent. He spread it across my shoulders, kneading it into the muscles, then down my back, following the spine and applying just the right amount of pressure on each side. I felt tensions loosen up I didn’t even know I had.
I’ve never known many guys who could give good massages. About the time they had finished rubbing my back a little, they were busy rubbing other things. The doctor was in no hurry at all. When his fingers reached the end of the spine, he concentrated on first one hip, then the other, massaging the flesh all the way down to the ankles, then bending the leg at the knee to massage the foot. I didn’t know a full body massage could be so heavenly.
When he finished massaging the foot on the right, he began with the left, squeezing and rubbing the flesh as his fingers crawled back up my thigh. His hand passed along the tight opening between my legs and circled around my buttocks, kneading both cheeks and pushing them up until his thumbs had pried open my legs a little. I felt his tongue slide down the crack, dart around the anus and pursue a path deep into the slippery walls of my pussy. Pleasure pings shot all over!
“Mmmmmm feels good!”
He turned me over. I lay on my back, panting, waiting for him to enter, but he wasn’t finished yet. His oiled hands spread over my arms, slipped underneath them, then reappeared to encircle my breasts. He took the nipples in his thumb and forefinger, rolling them gently, while they swelled and grew tender. He sucked at each one while his hands continued moving downward, sliding over my belly, then stopping at the triangle of velvet between my thighs.
His palms pressed against the inside of my thighs, opening them so my clit was fully exposed.
“Oh God! Yes!” I sighed, looking down in weakness as our eyes met in heat.
His tongue lapped at my breasts, pulling and tugging, while his thumbs explored the patch around the pulsing orifice, nudging the tiny bud that stood straight up like a soldier. How he teased me!
“God…nobody does it like you…” I felt my back arch as he teased me viciously, making me wait—making my skin beg for his intimate touch.
It seemed to take forever for his tongue to find its way to the opening, but when it did, I muffled a sharp, involuntary sigh.
“Uhhhhh yes ohh God lick my clit!”
The pleasure wouldn’t stop pounding. It seemed to explode straight from my gut. I opened my legs wide, and he stood up. Unwrapping the towel, he slid a condom onto his beautiful eight inches, then homed in on where the hunger inside me was greatest.
Room Service Page 70
