Egomania

  He couldn’t help wondering if she still felt the same way he did.

  “Scared, Joan?”

  “I don’t know,” she smiled up at him, taking hold of his arm. “It’s all happening so fast!”

  It seemed strange that one moment he had not known her, and then the next she was the whole world to him. And, maybe now, death!

  He had felt a strong impulse of emotion for her, when he first saw her at Big Dave’s New Year’s party. But he hadn’t known she was the small-time hood’s special girl; or that she was caught in a trap of fear, terror and hate. He had not realized how far Dave would go to keep her under his thumb; that she could not run away from him, because he would kill her if she did.

  Maybe Barry had loved her when he first saw her; but he hadn’t realized it until he had found her in his apartment earlier this evening. Attraction was one thing; love another.

  She had come into his arms, without a word, clutching him madly; pleadingly.

  Barry held her tightly to him.

  Their lips met in explosive passion.

  His mind became dizzy, but he didn’t care.

  She was here, in his arms.

  He picked her up and moved toward the bed in the corner. She kissed his neck and his cheek as he laid her down, and moved beside her. She clung to him, and he held her tightly in return. Her breasts were soft and full under his touch, as he moved his hand down to them. He could feel her body press closer. Her mouth quivered hungrily to his, seeking, searching, demanding. Her whole body was burning warmly.

  He was confused as to why, or how, she had come to his room. But he didn’t care for the answers now. She was here. She wanted to be made love to. That’s all that mattered.

  His mind had been possessed with desire for her the moment he had seen tier; it had been fired cruelly, when she had run out after that first, wildly unexpected, embrace the night before, at Big Dave’s party. His guts had been ripped apart by the fact that he had lost her before he even knew her name. And now finding her here, and making love to her, which she returned without excuse, reason, or word, he was not about to try under-standing. He could only caress her, kiss her, and return her love in the same violent unembarrassed passion and desire which she had expressed.

  His fingers ran along the soft nakedness of her flesh, and it shivered with the excitement of his touch. Her mouth was moist and thrilling. Her breath matched the pounding ache of his own.

  The hunger and fervor she explosively demonstrated was not just pas-sion; it was something else too. And he knew he felt the same intangible emotion.

  Something had happened when the two of them had met the night before. And that sudden surprising, impulsive kiss had not been a sexual exchange. It had been a mutual need. The need of two lovely people reaching out for one another; a need for understanding and for love.

  For a long time they made love, But finally the heat, the passion, the animal emotions welling in them subsided, and they parted, their bodies tired but satisfied.

  As he lay back quietly smoking a cigarette he realized that he loved her. He knew what she was; she’d told him that the night before. It didn’t matter. Everybody was allowed a few mistakes in life. He’d made some of his own. So she’d had a bad time in the big town. A pretty girl in trouble; it was the same old story.

  Hell, he’d not lived such a clean life. Jockeying contraband; smuggling. And God knew what Big Dave had called him in to use his plane for; but that didn’t matter now!

  He looked at the girl. He’d known her only a few hours, but he loved her; you got to know something about people. He liked this woman. He didn’t like Dave. But he realized what would happen if Dave found out about them.

  An adult knew what he wanted in a woman. And after a while, he could tell in a glance.

  It had been mutual love at first sight. That happened, sometimes. Though never to him before this. It was as if they were soul-mates who had known one another in past lives, and upon meeting in this one had instantly recognized that soul so deeply hidden. What each of them had done up to that moment of meeting meant little. They belonged to one another; and always would, throughout eternity.

  Hell, he didn’t know why that might be. But he was convinced..

  He wanted this woman. He wanted her more than anybody else.

  And here, in Big Dave’s town, it would be sure death to ever see her again.

  “I love you!” he said suddenly.

  “I guess silly...but I feel the same way.”

  He could tell by the worried look in her blue eyes just how confused she was. He could see that she must feel the same emotions he felt; she must, or she wouldn’t have come to him like this.

  “Last night...” she said, sitting up and looking at him seriously. “Last night I felt something...and I was sure you must too...it’s funny...but some-thing seemed to click…”

  “I didn’t like it at first…it scared me.”

  “But I couldn’t stay away. I had to see you, and I had to!”

  “To find out the truth?” Barry offered, tenderly.

  “Yes.”

  “I felt I’d go mad; you left without even letting me know your name…”

  “Joan Withers,” she smiled. “I thought it might just be a passing animal attraction...passion...now I don’t…”

  “I know it wasn’t!”

  “I know; what are we going to do?”

  “Don’t really...can’t…maybe we should leave town together...”

  “I couldn’t. Dave would just send one of his boys after us…”

  “Hell! Leave the country!”

  He was shocked by his own words. He was shocked by the decision which his mind had already made. He wanted her. He was going to have her!

  Grabbing hold of her shoulders he exclaimed: “I don’t know why...I don’t even know how it happened; or how lasting it will be...or real my emotions for you are I don’t think it really matters. I want you and you say you feel the same way! We’re adults...I love you now...I want you more than anything else in the world...I’m willing to fight for you…to get you out of here.0… Hell! You can’t be worse off with me than with Dave.”

  She leaned over closer to him, sliding her arms around his neck, and moving her cheek to his. “Oh, God...I’ve never felt such a need for anyone before, I want you the same way you want me...regardless of what comes out of it later.”

  She clutched to him. Her breath shortened. Her lips crushed on his, soft and moist, desperately seeking, anxiously demanding.

  The horrible desperation returned, flooding over them. He felt the mus-cles in her go rigid with excitement, as she moved up against him harder.

  “Oh, love me...love me...my dear wonderful love!” she sighed, wildly working her mouth on his neck. Her teeth bit into the flesh of his shoulder as a moan of helpless excitement rippled through her body convulsively.

  He ran his hands over her trembling form, and her skin went fiery under his touch.

  Her fingers clawed his back, and her mouth sought his again. Her tongue reached out in a surge of hungry anxiety.

  The wildness, the savage demands, the burning fervor bathed over their bodies, numbing all thoughts, all reason, all memory. Only the desire, that had to be fulfilled, only the love that was so needed, only the heated awareness of two lovers who have discovered themselves, each other exist-ed. And then final union.

  They did not stop.

  They could not.

  It as a moment of ecstasy that seemed to last forever, but finally came to an end.

  He looked down at her lovely face and smiled tenderly. “I love you…oh how I love you.”

  He kissed her lightly.

  “There’s no question about what we must do, now,” he said sternly. “It’s settled! We leave…get out of this damn city…and then out of the country…the plane’s fueled…it’s ready. All we have to do is leave!”

  She smiled up at him. She said nothing. She didn’t have to.

  He knew.
/>
  She would come. She was his now.

  There was a suddenly knocking on the door.

  Barry jerked upright, then froze.

  He saw Joan’s eyes go wide with terror, and her body shudder.

  Who could it be?

  “Open up, Flyboy!” a hard, high pitched man’s voice demanded.

  That’s when the first horror started. Tommy. Big Dave’s gunman.

  Now they faced another horror.

  Barry turned the wheel of the car, and directed the vehicle through the gate that enclosed the air field.

  Now it was a case of getting his plane into the air before Big Dave came storming along with his insane anger, his determination to kill.

  It took what seemed forever for Barry to check out his plane, pay for the housing of it, and have it pulled out of the hanger.

  Once the four-seat plane was free of the hanger, Barry warmed up the engines, explaining to Joan how to strap herself in.

  He called the control tower, and was getting instructions for the take off when Big Dave arrived.

  Things happened fast then.

  A car pulled out of the night, right in front of the plane, blocking its pathway.

  Two men got out of the front seat. One was tall, the other short and heavy. Two others piled out of the back seat.

  “Big Dave!” Joan cried as she saw the short fact man.

  “Latch the doors quickly!” Barry yelled hand her the gun he had taken from Big Dave’s man. “Use it if necessary.”

  He checked over the controls. Then he threw aside the mike, knowing the control taking off without instructions; there just wasn’t time to do any-thing but move fast.

  He had to think of some way to get around the car; or they would never make it.

  “Get down…” he demanded, as the four men came running toward the plane.

  He throttled the engine, then moved the control stick.

  He’d have to take a chance!

  Slowly the plane moved.

  A shot rang out, and the glass splattered between the two of them.

  Joan leaned out the door, at her side, and returned the man’s fire.

  Her aim was terrible.

  The plane moved closer to the car.

  Touched it.

  The wing was clearing, but the cockpit, and body scraped the car.

  Barry felt a sickening fear run through him.

  They weren’t going to make it!

  One of the men was reaching up to the cockpit door, near Joan. A gun was pointing through the glass.

  He had to move fast!

  Joan screamed and fired at the face. It jumped backwards, yelling in pain.

  He’d have to chance it.

  He pressed the throttle.

  Another bullet crashed through the cockpit, grazing the back of his head. He felt nausea flood over him. Blackness started to cover his vision. He shook his head and fought for awareness.

  A scraping sounded, and then it turned into a loud grating noise.

  We aren’t making it. We aren’t going to make it, his mind screamed.

  His vision was clearing, and his mind was beginning to work more effi-ciently.

  The grating sound ended, and the plane moved forward.

  Another bullet exploded past them, just missing Joan.

  The sound of more bullets hitting glass and metals, surrounded them. But they were clear of the car.

  He pointed the plane toward the dark runway, and kept going; he didn’t have time to consult the control tower. He could only hope for the best.

  And as they left the shrill sound of the bullets and soared into the sky, the passengers Barry and Joan, let out a sigh of relief seconds before the two planes collided.

  His last thought was: Maybe their souls would meet again, soon, and rediscover one another under better circumstances. Maybe next time it would last for a life time.

  Death came quick and painlessly, and Big Dave was cheated.

  What not follows is a story which was used in total, with some added material and slanting in “Bodies 4 Sale” and while I don’t have the original anywhere in my files, I will offer this excerpt from the book, with this ex-planation:

  In the mid-fifties it was a common practice for quality eateries to offer the standard piano bar, and in some cases with some very good musicians, even duos and trios. It was a starting place for some and an ending place for others. Many wannabe singers would get a chance to sing their songs for the drinking folk gathered around the bar. And for some singers it was a beginning spring board to better things that led to small or large careers as vocalist. In any case, it was a place where people could experiment and get a chance to show off their talents.

  And to be totally and completely ignored, no matter how good they were.

  This was a place and time and setting where gland handing and me-chanical, hard smiles accented reactions by public and agents alike. As in the following material, the message is underscored with…

  FROZEN SMILES AND GLAD HANDS

  And the night before, when Jamie Norton was in Mexico with the little tramp, another man was starting on a path that would soon cross his.

  George Kayne’s fingers moved across the keyboard of white and black, causing the jumping dullness of “Roll Out the Barrel” to bounce through the smoke-filled air of the cheap saloon, whose name he had already for-gotten in the medley of other cheap places so much like this one.

  Smoke—Drinks. Drunks. And—“Hey, my girl here’s got a voice,” and a dollar bill drops on the piano in front of him. “How about letting her sing?”

  “What’ll it be, Miss?” He’d let anybody sing a song or even dance for a bill...

  “I’m In the Mood for Love.”

  Didn’t they know anything else? She’s slightly drunk, but pretty enough; and from the expression on his face, nobody would ever know about the hurt deep down inside, or the slightly sickened feeling he would get as she slurred over the fact that she didn’t know what key she was about to sing in.

  That was all part of the act. A frozen smile, and “what’ll it be, Miss?”

  But this night was different. He was waiting for his agent, Manny An-son. Maybe this would be the night he would get out of this dive and all the dives like this one in which he seemed to be spending his career.

  Frankie, the cocktail waitress, stepped up to the piano bar. “This drink just came from the man at the end of the bar—wants to hear ‘Down by the Old Mill Stream’, sorry about that!” she said, smiling and placing a beer within easy reach.

  Frankie was all right. She was sexy as hell and it took one hell of a lot out of him just watching her and her bouncing bosom. She was the kind of woman you couldn’t help thinking would be one hell of a swinger in bed. But there was something other than just animal appeal about Frankie. There was something that made him not only want her in bed, but also protect her. She made this dive different from the rest of the dives he had been working in ever since Jamie Norton hit the bottom and he had to make a go at it alone. Most of the girls working as cocktail waitress looked cheap—like whores. Frankie had a sad look about her—a helpless lonely expression in her brown eyes.

  She was also different because she seemed to like him. The way she would glance out of the corner of her eye at George. Her shy smile. Most girls didn’t go for his kind of guy. Too small. Too quiet. But even though he and Frankie had said very little to each other, there seemed to be aware-ness and a silent communication between them. He just somehow knew she was interested.

  She was lonely, too, he guessed. Maybe he’d ask her out after work to-night it. Especially if the audition went well. Then he would feel like cele-brating.

  This was a hell of a place to have an audition.

  “Mister—play ‘Sweet Adeline’—play it for me soft and sweet!” an overly painted, worn-out face asked.

  “Sure, anything you want!”

  Where was Manny? What the hell was keeping the guy?

  “How
about letting the lady sing another song?” A second bill fluttered its way toward the small glass which was already half full.

  Good tips tonight!

  “Sure thing—right after this lady’s request...”

  He wondered if the blonde would know her key. She didn’t. The voice went flat several times and he had to fake the chording to keep her from sounding bad. But he was good at that; he was an ideal pro at playing for amateur singers who had to get half loaded before they had the courage to let the world hear their golden attempts to keep on key. Everybody thought they could sing. Even the good ones numbered in the thousands.

  He tried to remember how long ago it was when he’d gone to his first piano bar to solo for the first time before a bored, noisy crowd. He really couldn’t remember anymore.

  Frankie looked in his direction. That lonely wide-eyed wounded doe expression. She had pretty brown eyes and one hell of a bobbing body. Last night he’d almost gotten around to asking her out, but he’d been side-tracked by a customer, and it was quitting time and Frankie had gone be-fore he got another chance.

  He wished to hell that Manny would get over here!

  He was just like a kid on his first audition. Maybe because it was so important to him. Maybe because he knew that if he failed this time he would be finished—never given another chance at the vocal bit. And he’d have to return to his one room apartment with its dim lights and dark, old-fashioned furniture from the 1890’s and grease-smeared walls. And he’d not be able to face the truth that he really didn’t have quite a good enough voice, and that he didn’t have quite good enough looks, and that he didn’t have quite a good enough personality.

  Then he would drink away the smell and taste of defeat. Lonely and beaten like all the other times.

  Things weren’t like they had been when Jamie Norton was on top. Ja-mie had seen that his friend, George Kayne, was taken care of with a good job and a good chance to get ahead. It hadn’t been only one-way, though. The two of them had worked well together. Norton never had been able to find a better team partner for him. But since Norton had been black-listed by Manny, things hadn’t been going so well for Kayne.

  A harsh voice cracked: “Okay, move outta the way, Miss…sorry! Gotta get to Georgie boy here. Business. Business.”

  “So, who do ya think you are, buster?”

  “Business, business!”