Funland

  Joan swept an arm back, thumb pointing behind her as if she were trying to hitch a ride.

  “I know,” Dave said.

  “I know you know.”

  “You don’t want to go under there, do you?”

  “Do we have any choice?”

  “Sure we do.”

  “Are we looking for Gloria or just pretending?”

  “You and Jiminy Cricket.”

  Joan took his hand. “Let’s check it out before I lose my nerve.”

  They turned around, walked past the stairs, and entered the darkness beneath the boardwalk. Dave switched on his flashlight. Its strong beam thrust out a shaft of brightness. Shadows from the pilings lurched and swayed as the light swept by.

  A yelp of alarm made him flinch, and Joan almost crushed his hand. Someone scuttled from behind a post, was lost in the black, then found again by the flashlight beam. Dave couldn’t tell whether it was a man or a woman. But it wore dirty brown pants and an overcoat, so he knew it wasn’t Gloria. It scurried toward the rear, whining. Dave turned the light away.

  “Holy jumping Judas,” Joan muttered.

  “You sure you’re up to this?”

  “I can take it if you can.”

  “I’m not sure about my hand.”

  “Sorry.” Joan eased her grip.

  They stood motionless while Dave played the flashlight over the area ahead. “Looks okay,” he whispered.

  “Most of them are probably farther back.”

  He aimed the beam to his left. Saw a woman with a dirty face peering at him from beside a distant post. Saw a few huddled shapes far behind her.

  Goose bumps scurried up his back.

  He swung the light away fast.

  Joan muttered, “Shit.”

  “Should we check them out?”

  “No.”

  “What happened to Jiminy Cricket?”

  “There’re limits.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Try calling out.”

  “Gloria?” he shouted. “Gloria? You there?”

  Voices, five or six of them, some low and gravelly, others high-pitched, called, “Gloria? Yoo-hoo, Gloria? Glorrrria?”

  Dave moaned. He hurried forward, holding on tightly to Joan’s hand, dodging the posts that blocked the way. The voices kept asking for Gloria. They sounded amused.

  To the left, a heap of dark blankets broke open and a gaunt man bolted up. Joan lurched aside, crashed into a piling, and gasped and staggered back against Dave.

  “Saaay,” the troll piped. “How’s about two bits for a poor vet down on his luck?”

  Throwing an arm around Joan, Dave rushed her out from under the boardwalk. The moonlight found them. They didn’t stop until they were far out onto the beach.

  Joan hugged him in a fierce clutch. She was panting, chest rising and falling against him, breath hot on his ear.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Her cheek rubbed his face as she nodded.

  “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Not much. My shoulder a little.”

  “We shouldn’t have gone under there.”

  “God, those people.”

  “Trolls.”

  “What if Gloria’s there?”

  “That’s her problem.”

  “Dammit.”

  “We’re not going back in there,” Dave said. “I don’t care what you say.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “No.”

  “To my place.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I want to get out of here. Right now.”

  But she kept herself clenched to Dave, and didn’t move.

  “Couple of real chickens, aren’t we?” she said after a while.

  “Kentucky fried.”

  “It’s not as if they could’ve hurt us or anything. I mean, we’re armed.”

  “And you’re Kung Fu City.”

  “Could’ve choppy-sockied them all over the place.”

  “On the other hand, who’s to say they don’t have weapons of their own?”

  “That’s a pleasant thought.”

  “Did you mean it about leaving?” Dave asked.

  “I meant it. Let’s go.”

  Twenty-seven

  “I’d just as soon get going,” Shiner said.

  “It’s early, it’s still early.” Jeremy’s voice sounded slightly muffled to him, as if his ears were plugged. Can booze do that to you? he wondered.

  Shiner squeezed his arm and shook him gently. “Come on. Everybody’s polluted. Including you.”

  “I’m fine,” Jeremy said. “Can’t we stay a little longer?”

  “If you really want to. But just a few more minutes, okay?”

  He looked down at the glass in his hand and saw that it was empty. He decided against getting a refill just now. Shiner wouldn’t like it. She really didn’t seem to be enjoying herself much. She should’ve been drinking like the rest of them. After her first glass of spiked punch, right after Nate left, she’d switched to Pepsi.

  “Wanna dance?” Jeremy asked.

  “Not much. I’m all danced out. And they keep playing that crap. I hate that crap.”

  “It’s the Beastie Boys.”

  “Whoopie.”

  Only Karen was still dancing. A few minutes ago she’d stripped down to her bra and panties. She was writhing and shaking, her hair flying, her breasts bobbing wildly, as if the bra wasn’t even there. Her skin was glossy with moisture. Her eyes were fixed on Tanya.

  Tanya didn’t seem interested. She was staring at her drink and paying no attention to Karen. She’d been dancing herself a little earlier. But she’d kept her clothes on, and kept a glass of punch in one hand. Now she was slumped on the sofa with her bare feet resting on top of the table in front of her. Randy was stretched out, his head on her lap, one arm hanging down toward the floor. He appeared to be asleep.

  Passed out is more like it, Jeremy thought.

  Randy’d been guzzling the punch. He’d acted pretty funny for a while, giggling and doing his “famous impressions of dead presidents” such as Chester A. Arthur and Thomas Jefferson, and giggling a lot and wearing his glasses upside down. Then he’d collapsed onto the sofa.

  Jeremy wished he could be the one on the sofa with Tanya.

  Only not zonked out. Wide-awake.

  He imagined himself with her, but not lying there the way Randy was. Sitting up, Tanya straddling his lap the way Liz was on Cowboy in the recliner across the room. They’d been like that for a long time. Jeremy suspected that Cowboy’s hands were up inside her sweater.

  “Are you ready to go yet?” Shiner asked.

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten-fifteen. But you said we could leave early. Nothing’s going on anyway.”

  “Coupla minutes?”

  “What’re you waiting for? Think Karen’s going to take off the rest?”

  “I don’ even like her,” Jeremy protested.

  “You sure like looking at her. Personally, I happen to find it repulsive. You do know what she’s doing, don’t you?”

  “Dancing.”

  “Trying to get Tanya turned on.”

  “Tanya’s no lesbo.”

  “Oh, you’re an expert?”

  “She was Nate’s girl.”

  “Yeah, and Nate’s out of the picture and she’s really depressed. Maybe Karen’ll get lucky.”

  “Nah.”

  “Maybe one of the guys’ll get lucky.” Shiner looked at Jeremy and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you. Is that what you’re hoping for?”

  He felt heat rush to his face. “No!”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Honest.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Then prove it. Let’s leave right now.”

  Oh, God, Jeremy thought. What’ll I do? What if I say no? This could be my big chance.

  “Okay,” he said. “We can leave.”

  Shiner’s lips formed a narrow line. She gazed into his eyes
and nodded. “Good.” Her hand found his, and she squeezed it gently.

  “I gotta use the john, though.”

  “Hardly surprising.” She smiled. “You’ll have to wait for Heather to get out. That’ll give you a while longer to ogle Karen.”

  He pushed himself away from the paneled wall. The bathroom door was shut, all right. Determined not to ogle Karen, he turned his eyes to Shiner.

  She really is beautiful, he thought.

  He wondered what would happen in the car. It was still early. She didn’t have to be home until midnight, so they’d have a long time if they parked somewhere.

  Heather stepped out of the bathroom. She looked saggy. Her bloated face was pale.

  “Did you find him?” Samson asked her.

  Heather looked confused. “Huh? Who? Find who?”

  “Ralph. I heard you calling for him. ‘Ralph! Ralph!’”

  “Hardy har har har. You’re as funny as a pregnant pole-vaulter.”

  Samson, a wide dazed smile on his face, staggered to the bathroom, hugged the doorframe, and peered inside. “Ralph? Ralph, you in here?”

  Jeremy slumped against the wall and wrinkled his nose at Shiner. “I think she barfed in there.”

  “I do believe you’re right.”

  “It’s gonna stink.”

  “There’s probably a john upstairs.”

  “I’ll ask.” He pushed himself off the wall again and headed for Tanya. Tanya would know. Aware that Shiner was probably watching him, he walked very carefully. And he didn’t look at Karen. He stepped between the edge of the table and the sofa. He bumped Randy’s arm, but the boy didn’t wake up.

  Tanya raised her head and smiled at him. “Hey, Duke. How’s it going?”

  “Great,” he said. “I was just—”

  “Get over here, sit down.” She took her feet off the table and set her glass on it. Taking Jeremy’s hand, she towed him past her knees and pulled him onto the sofa beside her. “You having a good time?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Terrific.”

  “Good, good.” She wrapped an arm across his shoulders. “You’re a good fella, Duke. You’re a real good fella. Know what I like about you?”

  He shook his head. The motion of it made him dizzy.

  “You got loyalty. Loyalty and guts.” She rubbed his shoulder. Staring into his eyes, she nodded agreement with herself. “I didn’t wanta see that guy die. You wanta see that guy die?”

  “No.”

  “’Course not. But I don’t hear you whining about it and bugging out. No, sir. You got loyalty and guts.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “You’re a true friend. We’re all true friends. We’re family, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re gonna wipe out those fuckin’ trolls. We’re gonna lay ’em waste.”

  “Damn right.”

  She turned toward him. Her leg pressed his leg. She pulled him against her chest and kissed him.

  Tanya’s kissing me, he told himself.

  He couldn’t believe it.

  He wondered if Shiner was watching.

  He didn’t care.

  He’d dreamed of this since the first time he saw her, and now it was happening, really happening.

  Her full lips were soft and warm and moist. And open. Her breath was going into his mouth. Her breasts were pushing against his chest. Her hands were rubbing his back. He put his arms around her and hugged her tight. Her tongue thrust into his mouth.

  Then her face eased away from him.

  It can’t be over yet, he told himself. He felt cheated, as if he’d just awakened from a dream—the best dream ever, one that had just started. The loss of it made him ache. At the same time, he felt an intense joy. How could he feel so horrible and so wonderful at the same moment?

  Her lips and the skin around them looked wet.

  That’s my saliva, Jeremy thought. Mine. God.

  Looking into his eyes, she squeezed his leg. “Come with me,” she said.

  Stunned, he rose from the sofa. Tanya scooted over, easing Randy’s head onto the cushion, and got up. She led the way to the stairs.

  Shiner was no longer standing by the wall. Jeremy looked around. She was gone.

  Had she actually left?

  Doesn’t matter, he thought. Oh, God, where are we going? Away from the others. Someplace where we can be alone. What’s going on?

  We gonna do it?

  His mouth was dry, his heart thumping as he climbed the stairs behind Tanya.

  I don’t even know how! What if I mess up and she laughs at me?

  At the top of the stairs, she took hold of his hand.

  “Where’re we going?” he asked, his voice coming out hushed and ragged.

  “My room.”

  Her words seemed to suck out the last of Jeremy’s breath. He gasped for air as he walked with her.

  “I’ve got something for you.”

  His legs trembled as he climbed the broad carpeted stairs to the second floor of the house.

  He wondered where her parents were. Shiner had said they might be upstairs, staying out of the way. But this was Friday, so maybe they’d gone out.

  What if they come back and catch us?

  Jeremy walked with Tanya down a hallway and entered a room. She flicked a wall switch, and lamps came on. She shut the door.

  Jeremy was standing inside the biggest bedroom he’d ever seen. It had an enormous bed with lamps on either side, a bureau, a dressing table with a mirror, a roll-top desk, a television with a VCR, a compact-disk player, a recliner, a sofa, and shelves that were crowded with animal dolls, trophies, framed photographs, and books. It had its own bathroom. From where he stood, he could see the sink.

  The bedroom’s thick carpet was pale blue; the bedspread and curtains were pink. There was a faint, sweet aroma that reminded him of suntan oil.

  Tanya’s room.

  Where she sleeps. Where she changes clothes. Even where she goes to the toilet, showers, and takes her baths.

  And I’m here.

  And we’re going to do it. Right there on her bed.

  “You better sit down before you keel over,” Tanya said. She guided him to the side of the bed. He sank onto it, and clutched his knees to hold himself steady.

  She went to the roll-top desk. She removed something from a drawer, and kept it hidden behind her back as she walked toward Jeremy.

  A rubber?

  She stopped in front of him. “Put out your hand,” she said.

  He held his hand out. His fingers were fluttering.

  Into his palm she dropped a double-edged razor blade.

  Confusion and icy prickles of fear moved in with his breathless excitement.

  “Just hold it for now,” Tanya said. She knelt on the floor and placed her hands on his thighs. The feel of her hands, so close to his groin, sent waves of heat rushing through him. “Tell me why you joined with us.”

  “To…to hunt trolls.”

  “Why?”

  “Cowboy. He invited me.”

  “Is that all?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “I guess it was partly to make friends. Specially you,” he added, and felt a drop of sweat trickle down his side.

  “Especially me. I know. Everybody’s in it because of me.”

  Except Shiner, he thought. But Shiner’s out of it now.

  “The trolls hurt me bad,” she said. “We’re after them because of that. That’s why it started. We go after them for revenge. Last night you joined in the revenge. You joined for my sake.”

  Jeremy nodded.

  She stood up and began to unbutton her big loose shirt.

  This can’t be happening, Jeremy thought. I don’t believe it.

  He watched her hands move slowly down the front of bright blue and yellow plaid, unfastening each button along the way. When the last was open, she spread the shirt.

  The sight seared Jeremy’s mind, slammed his heart, sank his stomach, jammed his penis erect, though his scr
otum and anus went cold and tight.

  “They did this to me,” Tanya said as the shirt dropped to the floor behind her.

  She stood before him, wearing only her white shorts. Her skin had a soft tan. Even her breasts. They were big, firm, wonderful. In the glow of the lamplight they looked polished. As if they’d been buffed to a glossy sheen. Their dark nipples jutted out.

  The scar began as a slick pink curve alongside her left nipple. It swept across the underside of the breast and streaked downward. It was as wide as a fingertip, pale pink, shiny, a little puffy. It passed the edge of her navel and vanished at the waistband of her shorts.

  Tanya opened her shorts. She pushed them down around her thighs.

  She was smooth and hairless.

  The stark rip skidded over her mound, and under it, and seemed to miss the soft open flesh below by a fraction of an inch.

  “A broken wine bottle,” Tanya said.

  Jeremy nodded. Her words seemed to come from a great distance. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He felt dizzy and sick, stunned by her nakedness, pained by the ugly scar, astonished that she was showing herself to him.

  “Three of ’em got me in the lifeguard shack,” she said. “Trolls. They’d spent the night there. I tried to kick ’em out, and they jumped me. One of ’em broke a wine bottle on my head. Then they stripped me.”

  “God,” Jeremy murmured.

  “One of ’em did this.” Her fingertip touched the scar tissue at her groin, and slid slowly higher, tracing the tear up her belly and rib cage and breast. “He slobbered on me while he did it. The other two held me down. Then he raped me. Grunting and slobbering. He smelled like stale wine and sweat and garbage. When he finished, the other two had me. One fucked me in the ass. One came in my mouth. Before they left, they pissed on me. All over me. On my face…”

  She stepped out of her shorts. With one foot she flicked them aside. On her knees, she reached beneath the bed. She dragged out a heap of brown bath towels. She spread two of them on the carpet at Jeremy’s feet and left the others wadded nearby. Stepping onto the double thickness of towels, she said, “Cut your hand.”

  Jeremy nodded. He felt as if his mind had collapsed while he’d listened to her story.

  He switched the razor blade to the trembling fingers of his left hand. He pressed its edge into the palm of his right. Blood welled up, and he cupped his hand to hold it.

  Tanya took the razor from him. She slid it against the skin of her mound, and a crimson thread appeared alongside the scar. She lifted Jeremy’s bleeding hand. She pressed it tightly against her cut. Blood squeezed, spilling around the sides of his hand, trickling down her legs, dripping onto the towel under her spread feet.