Page 12 of Night Show


  She was exhausted. She got to her feet and pulled off the blood-soaked jacket. It had done its job well; there was not a drop on her own clothes. Using Arnold’s bathrobe, she wiped blood from her thighs and knees, from her hands. It left them with a rusty stain. She turned to the mirror. Her face was speckled and dripping. Her wig, too. She cleaned them as well as she could.

  Listening at the door, she heard nothing. She eased it open and checked the corridor. It was deserted. The sounds of a man and woman talking came from below.

  She hurried to the bathroom. The air felt warm and moist. The top of the mirror was still fogged from Arnold’s shower. She shut the door. Standing at the sink, she used soap and water to wash off the remaining bloodstains. She dried herself with a soft white towel.

  Then she crept downstairs. The voices seemed to come from the kitchen. The living room was deserted. She eased open the screen door and stepped outside.

  She crossed the lawn with her head down, rubbing her forehead to hide her face from any neighbor or passerby who might chance to see her. Once she reached the sidewalk, she let her hand down.

  She noticed a kid across the street. He was hunched over the handlebars of his tricycle, pedaling furiously up his driveway. He didn’t look back.

  A car approached from the rear. She turned her head away until it passed, then scratched an eyebrow to shield her face from the rearview mirror.

  At the end of the block, she walked around the corner to her parent’s car. She climbed in. It felt like an oven. She winced as the vinyl upholstery scorched the backs of her legs, but smiled in spite of the pain when she heard the crumble of paper in her rear pocket.

  Tony’s letter.

  With Tony’s new address.

  17

  SWEAT AND suntan oil streamed down Dani’s skin as she sat up. She stretched, enjoying the feel of the late afternoon breeze.

  Jack, on the lounger a few feet away, seemed to be asleep. His hands were folded behind his head. His chest rose and fell slowly, skin glistening under his curly layer of hair. A puddle had formed in the depression of his navel. Its gleaming surface shimmered from the motion of his breathing.

  Dani was tempted to go to him. He could use a little extra sleep, though, after spending so much of the past few nights awake. Restraining herself, she swung her feet down to the concrete and stood up. She walked silently, taking deep breaths of the breeze, trying to ignore the tickle of droplets skidding down her hot skin.

  At the shallow end, she sat on the edge near the Jacuzzi and lowered her legs. She said ‘oooh’ as the water closed around her feet and calves. It was 80° F. but felt like the dregs of an ice bucket. After the first chill passed, she scooted forward and dropped into the waist-high water. She took a few steps, gritting her teeth as the bottom slanted down and the water climbed to her shoulders. An agony that she usually avoided by taking the cold shock in one quick dive from the side. But a dive might’ve disturbed Jack’s sleep.

  The things I’ll do for him, she thought, and smiled.

  In a moment, the water felt cool and pleasant. Letting her legs drift up, she did a silent breast-stroke. She neared the far end of the pool, started to make a wide turn, and saw Jack sit up.

  ‘You’re awake!’

  ‘Who can sleep through all this splashing?’

  ‘I didn’t make a sound!’

  He laughed softly. ‘Actually, I haven’t been asleep.’

  ‘Not at all?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘Humph!’ Flinging up an arm, she caught an edge of the diving board. She raised herself enough to grab it with the other hand, and hung there, half out of the water, facing Jack. ‘Come on in, I’ll race you.’

  ‘You always win.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want me holding back, would you?’

  ‘It’d be the polite thing to do.’

  ‘Want to tie one hand behind my back?’

  ‘How about both?’ he asked, and climbed off the lounge. He walked toward the diving board.

  ‘I could drown,’ Dani said.

  ‘I’d save you.’

  ‘You’d like that.’

  ‘Likely.’ The diving board wobbled as he walked out on it.

  Dani swung herself sideways and clutched the end of the board with both hands. She hung on tightly as it shook.

  Jack sat down, his legs dangling over the sides. Leaning forward, he looked down at Dani. ‘You’re beautiful when you’re wet.’

  ‘Thanks. What am I dry?’

  ‘Ugly as sin.’

  ‘Aren’t you a charmer.’

  His toes flicked against Dani’s armpits.

  With a yelp, she yanked herself up. ‘You beast!’ she cried.

  Jack grinned.

  Chin resting on the tip of the board, Dani bared her teeth at him.

  He patted her head. ‘Eaaasy, girl. Easy.’

  ‘I’m gonna get you.’

  ‘Oh, I hope so.’

  ‘Can’t tickle me and get away with it.’

  ‘I’m not ticklish.’

  ‘You’ll be sor-ry,’ she sang. Drawing her knees up toward the board, she tilted her head away and let go. Her back smashed the water. Blowing air out her nose, she kicked to the surface. ‘Get you?’

  ‘You’re vicious!’ he said, laughing as he raised his wet legs. ‘That water’s cold!’ He got to his hands and knees, and peered down at her.

  Lunging up, Dani grabbed the end of the board. She swung up her legs, hooked her feet over the edges, and pressed herself against its warm underside. She wrapped her arms over the top, and smiled at Jack. ‘Even?’ she asked.

  ‘Even.’ He lay down flat and kissed her. ‘Something has come between us,’ he said.

  Dani nodded. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling board.’

  He kissed her again.

  ‘How about coming in now?’ she asked.

  He sighed as if frustrated. ‘I’d like to, but I’ve got to get going.’

  ‘Going?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I meant to tell you sooner, but . . . hell, I really don’t want to go.’

  ‘Then don’t.’

  ‘I have to.’

  ‘I’ve already got two lamb chops defrosted. I thought, you know, we’d barbeque them and . . .’

  ‘It’s a dinner engagement.’

  ‘Oh.’ She unhooked her feet, dropped into the water, and swam to the pool’s edge. She boosted herself up. She walked across the concrete, leaving a wet trail, and sat down on her lounge. Picking up a towel, she began to dry herself.

  Jack sat down facing her. ‘I’m really sorry about this.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ The towel was soft and comforting on her face. ‘Who’s the lucky . . . party?’

  ‘No one you know.’

  ‘Is it a she?’

  ‘It’s a she.’

  ‘Your sister, I hope.’

  ‘Methinks the lady’s jealous.’

  ‘Is it a date?’

  Nodding, Jack leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. ‘There is this other girl.’

  ‘Oh man,’ Dani muttered.

  ‘Her name’s Margot. She’s a receptionist over at MGM. I met her there about a year ago, and we’ve been seeing each other on a fairly regular basis.’

  ‘Is it . . . serious?’

  ‘It’s damn serious to her.’

  ‘How about you?’

  Jack knuckled a drop of sweat off his nose. ‘A funny thing happened. I got a job working for this special lady and I wasn’t so interested in Margot any more. First thing I knew, I was in love with this lady. She was my boss, though, so I kept it to myself and went on seeing Margot.’

  His words warmed away Dani’s dread. She moved over to his lounge and sat beside him. He rubbed the back of her neck.

  ‘Anyway, all this with you came up pretty suddenly. The last Margot knew, she and I were still going together.’

  ‘She doesn’t know about me?’

  ‘I haven’t t
alked with her since Tuesday. That’s when we made plans for tonight.’ His hand roamed down Dani’s back. ‘Then, the next day, bang. Everything changed.’

  ‘I didn’t even know you had a girl friend.’

  ‘She’s probably going nuts wondering where I’ve been the past few days.’

  ‘You should’ve called her.’

  ‘I know. I’m not real handy at unpleasant chores. Besides, I figure it’s only fair to let her know in person.’

  ‘You’re going to tell her about me tonight?’

  ‘That’s the plan.’

  ‘That’s awful.’

  ‘Would you rather I didn’t?’

  ‘You’d better!’

  ‘I will. I’ll wait till after dinner, though. Don’t want to ruin her appetite.’

  ‘You’ll come over afterwards?’

  ‘It might be late.’

  ‘I’ll wait up.’

  Dani kissed him good-bye at the door. ‘Good luck,’ she said.

  He made a disgusted face. ‘Why don’t you come along?’

  ‘Wouldn’t that be charming.’

  ‘Well, see you later.’

  ‘You won’t be too late?’

  ‘I should be back by midnight at the latest. I hope.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He left. Dani shut the door. She started to hook the guard chain, but hesitated. If she fastened it, Jack wouldn’t be able to let himself in.

  I’ll let him in, she thought, and pressed the disk into its slide.

  Or maybe I won’t.

  Midnight. Dinner shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. Jack had said the reservations were for eight o’clock. What was he planning between ten and midnight? When was he planning to break the news? Right after dinner? Or right after . . . One last time, for old time’s sake.

  She felt disgusted with herself, imagining such a thing. Only a jerk would make love to a woman as a prelude to dumping her. Not Jack. But she could easily see him embracing her, consoling her after breaking the news, one thing leading to another, and maybe in the arms of this Margot he would decide not to give her up, after all.

  The thoughts frightened Dani. She was leaning back against the door, breathing hard, her heart hammering, her mouth dry.

  To lose Jack so soon . . .

  What the hell am I thinking? It’s the other girl who’s getting dumped tonight, not me.

  Poor girl. Christ, the poor damn girl.

  Dani took a deep, trembling breath and pushed herself away from the door. She felt weak as she walked into the kitchen.

  No good to dwell on that stuff.

  Ninety per cent of worry is wasted effort, getting yourself all worked up over matters that never happen.

  What about the other ten per cent?

  Screw it.

  Please. Once more. For old time’s sake.

  She looked at the kitchen clock. Just five. Seven hours till midnight.

  I’ll go to a movie, she decided. A double feature. Right after dinner.

  It seemed like a good idea, and cheered her up. She took a glass from the cupboard, filled it with ice, and made herself a vodka and tonic.

  Some women eat to cure their blues. Some buy new clothes. But Dani had found, over the years, that nothing worked better for her than a trip to the movies. It was an adventure. No matter how often she went or how rotten the films, it was always a treat.

  Sipping her drink, she stepped around to the other side of the bar. She hopped onto a stool and opened the newspaper to the entertainment section. Her eyes roamed down the ads, seeking out familiar theaters.

  She’d already seen most of the films playing nearby. Then she spotted a double bill playing in Culver City; Zombie Invasion and Night Creeper. She’d never heard of the first, but Larry Holden, a friend from her old job at EFX, had worked on Night Creeper.

  She phoned the theater. With the next showing of Zombie Invasion at seven o’clock, she had two hours to eat, change, and get to the theater.

  Setting down her glass, she stared across the kitchen at the two lamb chops she’d taken out for dinner. Her stomach fluttered at the reminder of Jack’s absence, of his date with Margot. ‘You guys thawed out yet?’ she asked. She climbed off the bar stool and went to the counter. She poked one of the chops. Her finger dented the cool meat. ‘Guess so.’ They would save till tomorrow night, but she was hungry and she’d been looking forward to the lamb.

  She put one into the refrigerator, picked up her drink as she passed the bar, and went out back. An hour and a half before time to leave gave her plenty of time to barbeque. She could shower and change while the coals heated.

  She rolled her Weber grill away from the wall. Crouching, she opened the vents at the bottom of the drum. Ashes spilled out, dusting her hand. She brushed them off and removed the lid, then lifted out the blackened grill. The grate inside was scattered with powdery charcoal from last time. With tongs, she arranged them into a pile. They would probably be sufficient for broiling one chop, but she didn’t want to chance it so she hefted the bag of fresh briquets and dumped in some more. They tumbled and rolled down the heap of gray coals. Putting the bag aside, she used the tongs to set them back on the pile.

  A match box was propped against the quart can of charcoal lighter. She picked up both. The can was heavy, almost full. She set the match box on the side tray and flipped open the red plastic cap of the fluid.

  She squeezed out a long stream, waving it back and forth over the charcoals. It gave the fresh ones a shiny coat, turned the ashen ones black.

  ‘Dani?’

  Her hand jumped.

  She tipped the can up and swung around.

  He was at the side of the house, leaning in over the gate, a smile on his white, cadaverous face.

  ‘Tony,’ she muttered.

  18

  ‘WHAT ARE you doing?’ he asked.

  At a loss for words, Dani raised the can of charcoal lighter.

  ‘Barbeque?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Can I talk to you?’ Reaching over the redwood gate, he flicked up the latch. The gate swung open.

  Dani licked her dry lips. ‘You’d really better leave, Tony.’

  He looked hurt. ‘I won’t get in your way. I promise. I just want to talk to you for a minute.’

  He walked toward her. She nodded, trying to smile, well aware that she couldn’t force him to go away.

  His sunken eyes lowered, studying Dani as he approached.

  Her striking bikini was one she never wore in public: a few wisps of filmy orange nylon held in place by knotted cords. She ached to cover herself, but didn’t want Tony to know how vulnerable she felt. She set the fuel can on the tray. With effort, she resisted an urge to fold her arms over her breasts. She picked up her drink and took a sip.

  ‘So, Tony . . .’ Her words sounded shaky. She took a deep breath and projected, her voice coming out firm. ‘I thought we’d agreed on next Saturday.’

  ‘I know. I’m really sorry to bother you. The thing is, I haven’t made many friends since I’ve been here . . .’

  Big surprise, Dani thought.

  ‘And I didn’t want to be alone. Not right now.’ He looked at her with troubled, pleading eyes.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘I . . . I just found out my . . . my mother died.’

  ‘Oh no. God, I’m sorry.’ She stepped forward and took Tony’s hand. She guided him to one of the lounges. ‘Here, sit down.’

  He lowered himself onto it and stared at the concrete.

  ‘Let me get you something. A beer?’

  ‘Okay.’

  She rushed into the house, grabbed a can of Coors from the refrigerator, and hurried outside. Tony didn’t look up as she lifted her own drink from the barbeque tray and walked over to him. She gave him the beer. She sat down, facing him. His bony fingers popped the tab, but he didn’t take a drink. He turned the can slowly, staring at it.

  ‘Had she been ill?’ Dani asked.

 
He shook his head. ‘It was very sudden. A heart attack. Dad said she was just standing there washing up the lunch dishes, and keeled over. She was dead by the time the ambulance arrived.’ He shrugged again, and took a sip of beer.

  ‘That’s awful, Tony.’

  ‘At least . . . it was over fast. I mean, that’s better than a long illness, I guess.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dani muttered. Her own parents were both alive, but she could easily imagine the devastation of losing one. She felt miserable for Tony. ‘Were you very close to her?’

  ‘We fought a lot. She didn’t want me coming out here.’

  ‘You’re from New York?’

  ‘Yeah. Claymore.’

  ‘Will you be going back for the funeral?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Dad offered to pay my fare, but . . . what’s the point?’ He gazed at the top of his beer can, looking forlorn.

  ‘Tell you what. Do you like lamb?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘It just so happens that I’ve got an extra lamb chop. How about staying for supper?’

  ‘I don’t think Jack would like that.’

  ‘He won’t be joining us.’

  ‘He won’t?’ Tony frowned as if perplexed. ‘Did something happen?’

  ‘He’s just got a previous engagement. He’ll be back later.’

  By midnight.

  Please. For old time’s sake.

  ‘Why don’t you go ahead and start the fire, Tony, while I get cleaned up a bit?’

  ‘Start the fire?’

  ‘Yeah. You know.’

  ‘Maybe you’d better do that.’

  ‘It’s simple. All you’ve gotta do . . .’

  ‘No, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll go away if you want, but I can’t do that.’

  ‘I’ll start it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s all right.’

  ‘I caught on fire once. That’s why.’ He pulled a leg of his black trousers up to his knee. The inner side of his calf was wrinkled and pink with scar tissue. ‘See?’

  ‘I’ll start the fire,’ Dani repeated.

  He got up and followed her, but stood far back as she squirted more charcoal lighter onto the briquets.

  She struck a match.

  ‘Be careful,’ Tony said.