Body Rides

  Not a fantasy, a memory.

  She lifted her head and her eyes opened.

  Neal shrieked.

  GOTTA GET OUTA . . . NO! I DIDN’T MEAN IT!

  Too late.

  He was plucked out – instantly free from Rasputin’s trembling, tense body and foul mind. Gone was the feel of his bullet wounds, his trembling excitement, the hot and slimy lick of his leather trousers, the hard ache of his erection. Gone was the jumble of his memories, fantasies, contrivances and commentary.

  Neal was suddenly himself again.

  Like a hooked fish, he was flung up through the garage beams and roof and into the clear night sky.

  He looked down, but already he’d been hurled high and far away from the house. Below him was a rushing blur of moonlit roofs, treetops, gray streets, bright puddles of light, parked cars . . .

  He tried to slow down, but couldn’t.

  The bracelet was reeling him in fast, as if an angler feared he might slip the hook and escape.

  It swung him down from the heights and flipped him through the front window of Marta’s apartment. A lamp was on. He glimpsed Sue. She was crouching beside his chair, her blue blanket hanging down her back. Her head was in the way. He struck it with his hip, but it felt like air. A moment later, he landed inside his own body.

  His heart pounded hard and quick. He was gasping for breath. His hair was soaked with sweat and his clothes stuck to him.

  Opening his eyes, he met Sue’s gaze.

  She looked jittery. ‘Yer back,’ she said.

  ‘Thank God,’ he said.

  She looked so fine.

  So alive and safe.

  So sweet and beautiful.

  Her hair was mussed, tangled, golden in the lamplight. Her shoulders were wrapped by the blanket.

  ‘I reckon ya went on a bracelet ride,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Musta been hell on wheels.’ Her right arm came out from under the blanket. It lifted the blanket away from her breast and side as she reached up and caressed Neal’s face. ‘Are ya okay now?’

  ‘Getting better.’

  ‘Ya screamed yer head off a couple times. Scared the squirmin jaspers outa me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Neal said.

  ‘Nothin to be sorry for,’ she said, her voice gentle, a gentle look in her eyes, her hand stroking the side of his head as if she were trying to calm a spooked puppy.

  ‘I guess I woke you up, huh?’

  ‘That’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’m just glad yer back.’

  His eyes followed her outstretched arm to where it met her blanket-hooded shoulder, then drifted down to her breast. It seemed casually, innocently exposed by the disarray of the blanket. It was hazy bronze in the lamp shadow. It moved slightly with the motions of her arm.

  ‘I was real tempted to pull ya back,’ she said. ‘Take yer bracelet off. That woulda done the trick, right?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Thought so.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘Figured it oughta be yer call, when to come back. Didn’t seem right for me to interfere.’

  ‘So you . . . stayed by my side and watched?’

  She nodded. ‘I wanted to keep an eye out, case somethin mighta gone really haywire. Anyhow, I like watchin you. Only it was sorta painful, ’cause I could see ya were havin a bad time.’

  ‘Putting it mildly.’

  ‘Shoulda gone in me,’ she told him.

  Neal met her eyes. ‘How do you know that I didn’t?’

  ‘Only about fifteen ways. For one, ya didn’t have a smile on yer face.’

  ‘I found him.’

  Sue’s hand dropped to Neal’s shoulder. ‘Him? Rasputin?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Holy smoke.’ Her eyes were wide, her head shaking slightly back and forth.

  ‘But his name isn’t Rasputin, it’s Leslie Glitt.’

  She made a face. ‘What?’

  ‘Leslie Glitt.’

  ‘That’s a girl’s name, Leslie.’

  ‘Leslie Howard, he was a guy.’

  ‘Never heard of him.’

  ‘He was great. The Petrified Forest? With Bogart?’

  Sue shook her head.

  ‘And he played Ashley Wilkes in Gone With the Wind.’

  ‘I seen that one,’ Sue said. ‘So what happened, anyhow?’

  ‘His plane was shot down in World War Two.’

  ‘Not that other Leslie, this Leslie. What’d ya say his last name is?’

  ‘Glitt.’

  ‘Sounds dirty.’

  Neal shook his head.

  ‘So, what happened?’ Sue asked. ‘Did ya ride him?’

  ‘Yeah, I sure did.’

  ‘No wonder ya kept screamin.’

  ‘It was only twice, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Well . . . maybe. I got woke up by one of ’em, maybe a half-hour ago. Figured ya were havin a nightmare, there at first. But ya kept on squirmin and gaspin . . .’

  ‘Did I say anything?’ he asked.

  ‘Ya sorta mumbled some stuff, only I couldn’t make out what. Mostly, ya just gasped and whimpered. Anyhow, I got up and came over to see what was goin on. When I turned on the lamp, that’s when I saw the bracelet and figured ya’d gone on a trip.’

  ‘I had to get out of here,’ Neal explained. ‘I couldn’t sleep. I was going nuts.’

  A smile lifted the ends of Sue’s lips. ‘Hope it weren’t . . . wasn’t . . . my fault.’

  ‘It was mostly your fault.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I wanted to go to you.’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘But we’d decided against it.’

  ‘That was drivin ya nuts, huh?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Wish ya’d come on over to me with the bracelet.’

  ‘Me, too. My God, if I’d had any idea . . . It was like . . . crawling through a sewer. Being in him.’

  ‘Wanta tell me all about it?’ she asked.

  ‘There’s a lot to tell.’

  ‘Ya got an appointment?’

  ‘Yeah. In Samarra.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Nothing. A bad joke. A literary bad joke.’

  She narrowed her eyes and went, ‘Hmmmp.’ Then she pulled her arm back. As she stood up, she drew the blanket shut. ‘Why don’t you get on outa that chair? Nobody’s gonna sleep for a while, anyhow. C’mon over here.’ She turned away and glided toward the sofa.

  Neal climbed out of the chair. The blanket he’d used earlier was rumpled on the floor. He picked it up and tossed it onto the chair.

  Sue, wrapped from her shoulders to her ankles in the other blanket, sank down onto the sofa, leaned back and rested her bare feet on the coffee table.

  Neal stretched and groaned.

  As he walked toward Sue, she crossed ankles and said, ‘Y’oughta give me some books to read. I’ll read ’em all, and then I’ll know what yer talkin about when ya go and get literary on me.’

  ‘All right.’ He sat down beside her.

  ‘We can even read to each other.’

  ‘I’d love to have you read True Grit to me.’

  ‘Juss grab me a copy, and I’ll do it. Now, tell me all ’bout what went on tonight with you and . . . Leslie Glitt.’

  Neal slipped an arm around the back of her shoulders. The blanket felt soft and nice. He supposed it must feel very good for her to have it wrapped around her body.

  She leaned against him. ‘Don’t leave nothin out,’ she said.

  ‘Anything,’ he corrected her.

  ‘Don’t leave anything out,’ she said. ‘Or better yet, how about if I get in yer head for the story? Like in the car yesterday.’

  Yesterday? Was it only yesterday that he’d let Sue kiss the bracelet and get inside him?

  To prove I didn’t kill Elise.

  It seemed like so much longer ago.

  It was the day I met Sue. Right after she kissed the bracelet and
got in me by accident. Yesterday? On our way to the Fort . . .

  Tuesday. That was Tuesday. We only spent one night there, left the next day . . . Wednesday. Arrived at my place, then came over here. This is Wednesday night.

  More like Thursday morning.

  He looked at the bright red numbers of the clock on Marta’s video player.

  3:56 a.m.

  Thursday morning, all right.

  ‘Maybe you should just listen,’ Neal said.

  ‘Please?’

  ‘I’m not sure you want to be in there. It gets awfully bad.’

  ‘I can take it. Come on.’

  With a sigh, Neal took his arm back.

  As he slipped the bracelet off his wrist, Sue said, ‘But tell it to me, anyhow. The story. Don’t just think it. Tell it to me like ya did in the car.’

  ‘I’m not sure about this.’

  ‘I am. It’ll be the best way.’ The front of her blanket bulged and parted, and her right arm came out. It pushed against the side of her breast as she reached across herself and offered her hand to Neal.

  He slipped the bracelet onto her wrist.

  ‘You’re sure about this?’ Neal asked.

  ‘Sure I’m sure.’

  ‘If it gets too rough, just bail out.’

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ she said, then raised her hand to her mouth and kissed the head of the serpent.

  She went limp. As her arm fell, it shoved the blanket aside. The back of her hand slapped against her bare thigh.

  Neal saw that the entire right side of her body was naked except for a flap of blue blanket that still covered her right leg from the knee to the ankle.

  Oh, beautiful. Look at that. ‘Hi, Sue. Lovely. But how am I supposed to concentrate on . . .?’

  I could cover her.

  He didn’t want to cover her. He wanted to stare. And touch.

  Didn’t we do enough of that earlier?

  You can never do enough of that.

  He sighed. Then he reached over Sue’s body, lifted the blanket, and covered her.

  ‘I’m such a gentleman,’ he said. ‘Anyway, here’s what happened. I was feeling really restless in the chair. Sleep was out of the question. So I kissed the bracelet and took off.’

  Forty-Two

  Neal was shocked awake by the snick-clack of the deadbolt.

  Oh, no.

  Brilliant daylight hit his eyes as the front door swung open. Marta stepped in and shut the door. The room stayed bright, but was no longer blinding.

  Marta walked quietly as if she didn’t want to disturb her guests. She wore her uniform. A large leather purse hung from her shoulder. Stopping at the other side of the coffee table, she lowered her purse to the floor. Then she turned and stood motionless, staring at Neal and Sue.

  Neal mouthed the word, ‘Hi,’ and tried to look innocent.

  Sue continued to sleep.

  They were both seated on the sofa, leaning against each other, their legs stretched out, their feet on the coffee table.

  Neal had planned to return to his chair before falling asleep. He had planned to set an alarm clock so that he and Sue would wake up in plenty of time to be ready for Marta.

  He had fully intended to make sure that Sue was properly dressed.

  He looked at her.

  Some of the blue blanket was pinned between her arm and Neal’s. None of it covered her. All she wore was the bracelet around her right wrist.

  Neal grimaced.

  Facing Marta, he shook his head and shrugged and tried to look perplexed.

  She stared at him. Her eyes seemed a little glazed. Her mouth hung open.

  She seemed surprised, confused, wary . . .

  Her eyes went to Sue.

  Studied her.

  Checking out the competition? Neal wondered. Seeing how she stacks up?

  Thinking, I lost him to this skinny kid?

  This bitch? I’m twice as pretty as she is! My figure’s ten times better!

  But she must be ten years younger.

  The dirty bastard traded me in for a new model.

  Neal saw her composure begin to slip. Her face reddened and she started breathing harder.

  Contemplating double homicide?

  She tossed a glance at Neal, then picked up her purse and walked off.

  Never said a word.

  Oh man, Neal thought. How could I let this happen? How could I do this to her? I love her, damn it! She loves me. And I dump her for the first stranger I meet . . .

  Sue’s no stranger.

  Not anymore, he told himself, but she was sure a stranger Tuesday morning when I stopped for breakfast. How could I let this happen?

  I’m such a shit.

  But I fell in love with Sue, he told himself. What was I supposed to do, get rid of her?

  This sucks. This sucks so bad.

  ‘Go to her,’ Sue whispered.

  He turned his head. Sue’s body remained stretched out naked beside him, but her head swiveled and tilted slightly. She opened one eye.

  ‘You’re awake,’ Neal whispered.

  ‘Yeah. Now, go on. Get her cheered up. Lie if ya gotta.’

  Neal nodded and struggled to his feet. He felt shaky, frightened, ashamed.

  The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt Marta.

  But you did, he told himself. Demolished her. It didn’t show, but she’s crushed inside.

  He walked quietly down the hallway to her bedroom. The door was shut. He gave it a few taps with his knuckles.

  And waited.

  He was about to try knocking again, but she said, ‘Come in.’

  His hand was sweaty. It made the knob wet and slippery. But he turned the knob and pushed the door open. He stepped into the bedroom, then quietly shut the door.

  Marta was standing at her closet. After hanging up her blue blazer, she turned around and met Neal’s eyes. ‘So,’ she said. ‘I guess that was Sue.’ She didn’t sound snide or indignant or angry – just a little breathless, agitated.

  She doesn’t know what to make of this, Neal thought.

  Or is she struggling to control herself?

  ‘We fell asleep talking,’ Neal said. He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. About all this.’

  Marta frowned. ‘How’d your arms get scratched up?’

  ‘Some woman.’

  ‘Sue?’

  ‘No. It was just a little misunderstanding with someone. It’d be a long story.’

  ‘Do they hurt?’

  ‘Not much. They’re getting better. It happened a couple of nights ago.’

  ‘You’ve been busy.’

  ‘I still love you, Marta.’

  Her eyes on Neal, she moved her head very slightly up and down a couple of times. She started to untie the blue and gold silk scarf around her neck. Her hands were trembling.

  ‘Sue’s a beautiful girl,’ she said.

  Neal nodded. ‘So are you,’ he said.

  A corner of her mouth turned up. ‘Didn’t you call her a gum-snapping twerp? A brain-dead hillbelly?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Now you’re in love with her.’ She wasn’t asking.

  ‘I think so,’ he admitted.

  Marta started to unfasten the buttons of her white blouse.

  Neal couldn’t believe she was doing it in front of him.

  ‘And you’ve slept with her, haven’t you.’ It wasn’t a question, either.

  He nodded. Then he managed to swallow. Then he said, ‘She gave up the gum-snapping.’

  Marta didn’t seem to find it funny. But she finished with the buttons, and started to untuck her blouse.

  ‘She’s a very nice person,’ Neal said. ‘I mean . . . in other circumstances . . . if you just happened to meet her someplace . . . you’d like her. You couldn’t help but like her.’

  ‘I can see why you did.’ Not even that came out sounding snide.

  Marta took off the blouse, walked to the corner of her room, and tossed it into her hamper. S
tanding at the hamper, her back to Neal, she took off her bra. She dropped it in.

  Still facing the hamper, she asked, ‘What about me? Should I . . . consider myself dumped?’

  I wish you wouldn’t.’

  ‘You think you’re . . . in love with both of us?’

  ‘Seems that way,’ Neal said.

  ‘Does Sue love you?’

  ‘Apparently.’

  ‘I do. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Even now?’ Neal asked.

  ‘Even now. I guess I must be crazy.’ She turned around and walked slowly toward him. Her black leather shoes were silent on the carpet. She wore pantyhose and her straight, blue skirt.

  Bare above the skirt, she somehow seemed more naked than the times when she wore nothing at all.

  Her eyes looked a little frightened.

  ‘You’re so beautiful,’ Neal whispered.

  She halted in front of him, reached out with both hands, and started to unbutton his shirt. Her breasts were pushed together between her arms, making her cleavage a straight, tight slot.

  Neal stood there, staring at her as she opened his shirt and pulled it off and tossed it aside. When she took hold of his belt, she flicked a glance at his eyes.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he whispered.

  ‘Sure.’

  Standing face to face on the carpet near the foot of the bed, they undressed each other. First, Marta finished with Neal. Then she took off her own shoes, but she let Neal pull down her pantyhose. Staying crouched in front of her, he drew her panties down. She stepped out of them.

  As he kissed her soft mat of hair, he suddenly thought of the woman in the garage. Rasputin’s crucified plaything, his burnt toy.

  Nothing I could do.

  I should’ve at least tried to find my way back. I might’ve recognized the house.

  What if he does it to Marta or Sue? What if he nails them to a wall and sets them on fire?

  I’ll kill him. I’ll rip him apart.

  ‘Watch the teeth,’ Marta whispered.

  Neal felt as if he’d been in a daze. Her hair was a wet tangle in his mouth. He kissed her gently, then stood up. She gazed into his eyes. He felt her breasts against him. And he felt a couple of hairs in his mouth.

  Smiling slightly, Marta picked them out.

  He ran his hands down her back, and squeezed her buttocks. They felt large after Sue’s, but just as firm and smooth.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Neal whispered.

  ‘I’m sure.’