Body Rides

  ‘How come we haven’t seen nobody?’ Sue whispered.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Let go a second. I gotta tie my shoe.’

  He released her hand, and heard soft crinkly sounds when she set down the plastic sack.

  ‘Apparently,’ he said, ‘this isn’t the Fort’s most popular attraction. Also, it’s almost ten. Maybe we’re the only people weird enough to save this place for last.’ Sue didn’t comment, so he asked, ‘Did you ever see that movie Funhouse? These kids decide to spend the night in the funhouse of this creepy carnival that comes to town. So they hide until after closing time. The thing is, there’s this monster lurking around, knocking them off one by one.’

  Probably not easy to tie a shoelace in the dark.

  ‘Think there might be a monster in here?’ he asked, smiling.

  She didn’t answer.

  ‘Sue?’

  She didn’t answer.

  Very cute. She thinks she can scare me with a gag like this?

  ‘Hmmm,’ he said. ‘Where’d she go?’

  Bending over, Neal swept a hand through the darkness. Sue was not crouched beside him, tying a shoelace.

  What’d she do, sneak off?

  She has to be all right, he told himself. This is just a game she’s playing. Made up that story about needing to tie her shoe so I’d have to let go of her hand.

  ‘Are we playing a little hide ’n seek?’ he asked.

  Still no answer came.

  Maybe something did happen to her.

  That’s crazy, he told himself. She was right here beside me. I would’ve heard . . .

  Unless it was something silent.

  Like what? he wondered. She certainly couldn’t have been attacked . . . nothing like that.

  She’s just fooling around.

  ‘Well,’ Neal said, ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m leaving. Are you coming?’

  No answer.

  ‘Okay. Bye-bye. So long. Adios. Been good to know ya. It’s been real. Cheerio.’

  Something in the black of the corridor wrapped its arms around him from behind. He flinched and gasped. He grabbed the wrists at his chest, ready to fight. But a voice whispered, ‘You ain’t goin nowhere, buddy.’

  He let his arms fall to his sides. ‘Very funny,’ he said.

  ‘Scared ya.’

  ‘Yes, you scared me. A little.’

  ‘Made ya jump.’ Though she spoke in the softest whisper, Neal could hear the glee in her voice.

  ‘I knew you were just trying to trick me,’ he explained. ‘But then I started to worry about you, anyway.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’

  ‘That’s sorta nice,’ Sue said.

  Her arms were loose around him, so he turned around. Though facing her, he could see nothing except pitch black. ‘I’m just maybe a little too sensitive about losing people,’ he said.

  ‘Glad ya didn’t lose me?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, I’m glad.’ He raised his hands and put them on her sides and felt bare skin. Sliding them downward, he felt the slopes of her hips, the smooth cheeks of her buttocks. No clothes, just skin. ‘Uh-oh,’ he said.

  ‘Uh-oh, yerself.’

  Moving his hands upward, he caressed bare skin all the way up to her armpits.

  He swallowed hard and whispered, ‘You’re out of your mind.’

  ‘Just wanted to give you a little surprise.’

  ‘You’re full of surprises.’

  ‘Yup.’

  He brought his hands forward and curled them over her breasts. He rubbed his palms against her stiff nipples.

  A shiver seemed to pass through Sue.

  Bending his knees, Neal kissed one of her nipples. He pressed it between his lips, then opened his mouth and drew it in, tasting it, exploring it with his tongue. Sue, moaning, put both hands on the back of his head. She pushed her fingers through his hair, and urged his mouth harder against her breast.

  He slid his hand up between her thighs.

  ‘Eeeeww, look at that!’ A little girl’s voice.

  Sue’s hands froze against Neal’s scalp. He pulled his head back. Her breast came out of his mouth with a wet sucking sound.

  Turning his head, he saw a very faint red glow down the corridor.

  ‘Crap on a cracker!’ Sue gasped in a harsh whisper. ‘What’re we gonna do?’

  ‘Where’re your clothes?’

  ‘In the sack.’

  Where’s the sack? Neal wondered.

  Too late, anyway,

  ‘It’s just pretend, darling,’ said a woman.

  ‘Is not,’ said a boy. ‘What do you think they used their swords for, to toast marshmallows? No, sir. They used ’em to chop up injuns.’

  ‘Native Americans,’ said a grown-up man.

  Shit! A family of four!

  A few moments later, the red glow vanished.

  The next attraction for the family would be the buzzards feasting on the corpse.

  How far away? Neal wondered.

  Not nearly far enough.

  ‘What’ll we do?’ Sue asked.

  Neal flung his arms around her, lifted her off her feet and rushed forward, hugging her to his body. After three quick strides, he rammed her against a wall. Though the wall was apparently carpeted, she grunted from the impact. Neal grimaced with unexpected pain from the scratches on his forearms.

  ‘What was that?’ asked the little girl. She sounded scared.

  ‘Ghosts and ghouls,’ the boy said. ‘They’re coming for you.’

  The girl made a squealy sound.

  ‘That’s enough of that, young man,’ said the man Neal assumed to be the father.

  ‘I heard it, too, Tom,’ said the wife.

  ‘Crazy Horse wants to scalp you, Molly.’

  ‘James!’

  ‘Oooooooooooooo!’ From James.

  ‘Ooooooooooooo-yeeeeahhhhhhh!’ From Sue – a trite and cartoonish ghost ‘oooo’ twisting and rising into the demented shriek of a banshee.

  Both the kids erupted with terrified screams. Through their screams, Tom the father blurted, ‘Shit!’ and the mother snapped, ‘Children! Get back here!’

  Sue let forth a mad, witch-like cackle.

  ‘Assholes!’ the father yelled.

  ‘Tom!’

  ‘I’m coming, I’m coming! Like to get my hands on those assholes . . .!’

  Gazing over his shoulder, Neal saw a dim red haze fill the corridor in the distance: the kids, fleeing, must’ve run through the sensor that activated the lights for the saber-in-the-head exhibit.

  ‘Fucking assholes!’ the father shouted – a parting shot as he gave chase to his retreating clan.

  ‘Is he talking about me?’ Sue whispered.

  ‘I believe so.’

  She tittered softly. Neal felt small, warm puffs of her breath on the side of his neck. Her chest shook against him through his sweatshirt.

  ‘Kids!’ the mother yelled. ‘Stop running! Kids! Damn it! Wait for us!’

  A few seconds later, the distant red glow vanished and the corridor returned to blackness.

  ‘We’d better get while the gettin’s good,’ Sue whispered.

  Neal gave her a quick kiss. In the dark, his mouth found a peculiar part of her face. He didn’t know what he’d kissed. ‘Where’d I get you?’ he asked.

  ‘My eye.’

  ‘What was it, open?’

  ‘Yeah. I think ya blinded me.’

  ‘Hope not,’ he said. ‘Where’s the stuff?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Okay. No problem. Stay put for a second.’ He turned away from Sue and hurried in the direction where he’d seen the red glow. He shuffled along with his arms out, expecting to crash, but was still on his feet when he triggered the lights of the buzzard exhibit.

  He glanced to the left.

  No sign of the angry father or anyone else.

  He checked to the right.

  In both directions, the corri
dor vanished into darkness.

  He turned around. Sue, prancing forward naked except for her shoes and socks, waved a hand at him. Her skin was rosy in the crimson light. Her breasts jiggled. Her nipples looked purple.

  She halted over the big plastic sack, dipped down and snatched out her sweatshirt. She flung it high and seemed to dive up into it. An instant later, she was shoving the sleeves up her forearms. She bent down and grabbed the sack. ‘Let’s go!’

  She went to the right.

  ‘Where’s your skirt?’ Neal asked. The sweatshirt hung only to her waist, leaving her naked from there down to the tops of her socks.

  ‘I got it in my bag,’ she said.

  ‘Gonna put it on?’

  ‘No time.’ As she said that, the sweatshirt shook free from around her hips and dropped the rest of the way down – falling low enough to cover her buttocks.

  Neal hurried after her. The lights went out.

  ‘Wait up,’ he said.

  Moments later, they found each other in the darkness. Neal took hold of her hand.

  He hardly noticed the remaining attractions of Custer’s Spookhouse. He was too nervous and excited – too stunned by Sue’s wild behavior.

  Amazed by her audacity.

  Enthralled.

  An angry-looking man was waiting on the midway just outside the spookhouse exit. No sign of the wife or kids, but Neal supposed this had to be Tom.

  He was bald on top, wore glasses, and had a soft look about him as if he never got exercise. An expensive-looking Minolta camera hung from a strap around his neck, and rested on the slope of his belly. He glowered at Neal and Sue as they strolled down the ramp. His fists were clenched by his sides.

  Terrific, Neal thought. The guy’s going to cream us. And then we’ll probably get arrested for disturbing the peace, or something.

  Neat play, Sue.

  Worth it. Man! She’s fabulous! Nuts, but fabulous!

  Sue suddenly clutched Neal’s arm. ‘The bastards!’ she blurted, and looked up at him with hurt and rage in her eyes. ‘We oughta call the cops on ’em! Bastards! What d’they think they’re doin, jumpin out and yellin like that! Scared the pants offa me!’

  Tom’s scowl faded as they approached him. ‘Did somebody bother you in there?’ he asked.

  Sue nodded, her lips pursing out. She looked like a kid about to burst into tears.

  ‘Us, too,’ Tom said. ‘They scared the hell out of my kids. I’m gonna grab them when they come out and fix their wagons. Did you see what they looked like?’

  Sue shook her head. ‘Too dark. All I know, there was six of ’em.’

  ‘Six of them?’ Tom didn’t appear to like the sound of that.

  Neal shook his head at Sue. ‘I thought more like five.’

  ‘Nope, six. I counted.’

  Tom grimaced. ‘Well . . . thanks for the information.’

  ‘Yer welcome,’ Sue said.

  He glared toward the exit, then shook his head. ‘Aah, I can’t wait around all night for them.’ He turned around and walked off.

  Sue tugged on Neal’s arm. ‘Now what?’ she asked, grinning up at him.

  ‘I think we’ve done enough here.’

  She laughed. Then she asked, ‘What time is it, anyhow?’

  ‘Five after ten.’

  ‘Guess we better get, ’fore they throw us out.’

  Thirty-Four

  This time, of all times, they weren’t alone in the elevator.

  The whole of the way back to the Apache Inn after leaving Custer’s Spookhouse, Neal had been conscious of little else except Sue walking near him in the bulky new sweatshirt, a sweatshirt that hung down just barely to the tops of her thighs. She hadn’t put her skirt back on. She wore nothing at all under the sweatshirt, and Neal couldn’t get it out of his head.

  In the elevator, he intended to slide the sweatshirt up to her waist.

  My turn to get a little wild.

  In the elevator mirrors, they would see repeated reflections of Sue – back and front at the same time, over and over, receding.

  She’ll get a kick out of it, too, Neal thought. Hell, she’ll probably pull the sweatshirt off completely.

  In his fantasies as they walked through the night, they both ended up naked in the elevator, making love surrounded by their reflections.

  But as they stepped into the elevator, a couple of women came rushing out of the casino area toward the open doors. Women with tall, stiff hair, too much makeup, western shirts bulging across their busts, big silver belt buckles, and blue jeans so tight that neither woman could walk properly. Or maybe it was the cowboy boots that made them walk funny. Or maybe their intoxication. Or a combination.

  They each carried a big plastic tub of coins in one hand, a clear plastic tumbler of beverage in the other.

  ‘Hold that door f’r me there, darlin!’ called the woman in the lead. Her enormous fluff of hair was snow-white, with pink highlights.

  Sue thumbed the button to make the doors shut.

  They began sliding. ‘Shoot!’ Sue blurted. ‘I pushed the wrong button!’

  The pink/blonde sidestepped in. One foot inside the elevator, one foot out, she rammed her ass against the door behind her. Both doors stopped closing. She stayed where she was, running interference for her friend, but stumbled backward as the door retreated from her rump. Though she managed not to lose any coins from the tub she carried, her other hand leaped, flinging a glassful of ice and cocktail into her own face. ‘Bwah!’ she gasped.

  Neal took one of her arms, pulled, and helped her stand up.

  As the doors slid shut, she said, ‘Thank y’there, darlin. Yer a gennleman ’n a scholar.’

  ‘Glad to help.’

  ‘Name’s Myrna,’ she said, and winked at Neal. ‘This here’s m’pal, Lola.’

  Lola, her brunette pal, pushed the button for the fourth floor, then gave Neal a little salute. ‘Whatever Lola wants,’ she said, ‘Lola gets.’

  ‘Ain’t she a hoot?’ Myrna asked as the elevator started to rise.

  ‘Did y’all win much?’ Sue asked.

  ‘Nah,’ Myrna said. ‘The more y’win, the more y’lose. Ain’t that so, Lola?’

  ‘I done all right,’ Lola said. ‘I play that electric poker?’ she said, her voice rising at the end as if she were asking a question. ‘Takes some smarts, but y’got better odds ’n the damn slots. Them slots, they’re the shits.’

  ‘I like ’em,’ Myrna said.

  ‘Then y’oughta not complain bout losin all the time.’

  ‘Well, y’win a few ’n y’lose a few.’ Myrna tried to take a drink, found her tumbler empty, and frowned. ‘Where’d m’vodka ’n tonic go to?’

  ‘Up yer nose, the most of it.’

  ‘Well, poopy!’

  The elevator stopped at the fourth floor, and the doors rolled open.

  Sue pressed the button to keep them that way.

  Lola stumbled out.

  Myrna scowled into her empty plastic tumbler. ‘I reckon I’ll go on back down ’n get me a refill.’

  Sue and Neal looked at each other. Sue smirked. Then they both stepped out of the elevator, into the hallway with Lola. The doors shut.

  Lola gave Neal and Sue a lopsided smile, said, ‘See y’laters, alligators,’ then strutted/stumbled her way down the hall. She turned a corner and vanished.

  ‘Lordy,’ Sue muttered.

  ‘Relatives of yours?’ Neal asked.

  She blurted out a laugh, and elbowed him. ‘Shame on you,’ she said.

  They walked toward their room, Sue holding his arm with one hand and swinging her sack with the other.

  ‘I had big plans for inside that elevator,’ Neal told her.

  ‘You and me both.’

  Stopping in front of their door, Neal said, ‘The best laid plans . . .’

  ‘Least we won’t have nobody trippin over us when we’re in here.’

  ‘Sure hope not.’

  As he entered the room, Neal turned on th
e light. Sue came in, swung the door shut, leaned back against it, and dropped her sack to the floor. ‘C’mon over here,’ she said.

  He stepped closer.

  She clutched the front of his sweatshirt and tugged him against her, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. Her mouth was open and wet.

  Neal’s hands roamed up and down her sides, feeling her warmth through the thick fabric of her sweatshirt. Then he lowered his hands to her bare legs. He moved them up the backs of her legs, under the hanging sweatshirt. Her buttocks filled his hands, firm and cool, smooth as satin.

  She raised one of her legs as if she wanted to climb him. He ran his hand under it. Just when he was almost to the back of her knee, she hopped and brought up her other leg. Hugged between them, Neal clutched her buttocks.

  She was heavier than he expected.

  What am I supposed to do now? he wondered.

  Get her to the nearest bed before you drop her.

  He began to stagger backward.

  Sue broke contact with his mouth – almost. Her slippery lips moving slightly against his, she whispered, ‘Giddyup, horsey.’

  ‘Navigate for me?’ he asked.

  ‘Just keep on goin back.’

  He kept on going back. ‘Say when,’ he told her.

  ‘Keep goin.’

  He kept going, but suddenly his legs were stopped by the bed. Gasping with surprise, he toppled toward the mattress. Sue rode him down. She didn’t mash him, though; she caught herself with her hands and knees. Looming over him, she smiled. ‘Yer a good ride,’ she said. ‘Wanta do it again?’

  ‘You were supposed to say when,’ he pointed out.

  ‘When.’ She bent her arms, leaned down and kissed his mouth.

  As they kissed, Neal rubbed and squeezed her buttocks, then made his way up her back, sliding her sweatshirt higher and higher. Sue stopped kissing him and pushed herself up slightly to let him work the sweatshirt over her shoulders and head.

  When he had trouble getting the sleeves off her arms, she knelt above his belly, raised her arms, freed them from the sleeves and tossed the sweatshirt off the bed.

  Neal gazed up at her.

  She smiled down at him. ‘Whatcha starin at?’

  ‘You.’

  ‘I’m kinda scrawny.’

  ‘You’re beautiful.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She lowered herself onto him again and kissed him.

  The feel of her breasts and belly and groin were muffled by Neal’s sweatshirt. But she was all bare skin on top. He savored the warm sleekness of it, his hands sliding down the curves of her back and rump, then up along her hips and sides, and over her shoulder blades.