‘Thank you. See, I told you I’m human.’
‘Do you know what’s green and red and goes thump, thump, thump?’
‘No, what?’
‘Kermit the Frog in a blender!’
He kept it up for the next fifteen minutes as they trudged through undergrowth, climbed over deadfalls, ducked beneath low-hanging branches. Then they reached the river. Linda found a grassy clearing a few yards from the bank. She spread out the blanket.
She sat down on it, kicked off her sneakers, and stretched out her legs. ‘Can you tell the difference?’
He shook his head.
‘Take off your sunglasses.’
He lifted them, glanced at her legs, and shook his head again.
‘This is the one,’ she said. She patted her left thigh. ‘See? It’s not as tanned.’
‘They both look fine.’
‘You should’ve seen it when they took off the cast. All shriveled and white.’
He wrinkled his nose, lowered his sunglasses, and sat down to the far side of the basket and cooler.
‘You ready for a beer?’ Linda asked.
‘Sure.’
She took two cans of Genesee from the cooler. She popped them open and handed one to Joel. ‘Did you ever hear how it happened? My accident?’
‘You got hit by a car?’ His hand trembled slightly as he raised the can to his mouth.
‘That’s it. The thing is, I didn’t look where I was going. Stupid, huh? Just ran right out into the street and wham.’
‘Gosh.’
She squinted as the top of her can flashed sunlight in her eyes. She took a long drink. ‘Ready for some chicken?’
‘Sure.’
She set aside her beer and opened the picnic basket. ‘Sorry, I forgot the root beer and ice cream.’
He laughed a bit, sounding nervous again.
‘What do you like: thighs, drumsticks, breasts?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘I bet you’re a breast man.’
He blushed, his pimply chin turning a deeper shade of red. ‘Fine,’ he told her.
Linda gave him a crispy breast and a napkin. She took out a thigh for herself. ‘It’s really nice here, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘So quiet and private.’
‘Yeah,’ he said through a mouthful.
‘Are you glad you decided to come?’
He smiled, and wiped his slick lips with a napkin. ‘I sure am.’
They ate and drank in silence for a while. Linda opened two more cans of beer, passed another breast to Joel, nibbled on a drumstick. ‘I don’t hold it against you, you know.’
He stopped in mid-bite. ‘Huh?’
‘My accident. I don’t hold any grudges.’
His sunglasses slipped down his nose. He poked them back with a greasy forefinger. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Sure you do. You were just having some fun. How could you know I’d be dumb enough to run in front of a car?’
He frowned. ‘I still don’t . . .’
‘You, Arnold and Tony? The Freeman house? Jasper the friendly ghost?’ She shook her head and laughed. ‘I tell you, it scared the hell out of me. I thought sure ol’ Jasper was going to cut my head off.’
‘That was Tony,’ he muttered.
‘Jasper was Tony?’
‘Yeah. He, uh, stayed behind. He had all that stuff upstairs . . . the makeup and phoney head. And the ax.’
‘Figures,’ she said, and wondered why she hadn’t figured it out for herself. ‘The whole thing was Tony’s idea, I bet.’
‘Yeah. We had a ladder around the back. He was planning to use that, but then you got knocked out . . .’ Joel’s chin started to tremble. ‘Boy, I’m really sorry. I was a jerk to go along with him. Tony gets these crazy ideas.’
‘It’s all right. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t bring you out here to get into all that. I just thought . . . hell, you might be wondering about the whole thing, whether or not I recognised you. I just brought it up to let you know I’m not angry.’ She took a drink of beer. ‘Actually, it was a pretty neat idea. I wouldn’t mind pulling it on someone, myself.’
‘Really?’
‘Someone like Tony.’
Joel laughed. Turning away, he took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes. ‘Tony deserves it.’
‘Of course, the Freeman house is no more.’
‘Yeah, wasn’t that something?’
‘The paper said it was arson. I wonder if Tony did that.’
‘No. He’s gone. Didn’t you know?’
‘He is?’
‘Yeah. He left after graduation. He went to Hollywood.’
‘What’s he doing there?’
‘Wants to get into horror movies. He’s always been big on those things, you know, but after what we did to you . . . I guess that made up his mind. He changed a lot, after that.’
‘How do you know he’s in Hollywood?’
‘He keeps in touch with Arnold. They’ve been writing back and forth. He’s trying to get Arnold to move out and join him.’
‘Has he written to you?’
Joel shook his head. ‘I sort of had it out with him. After what happened.’
‘It bothered you that much?’
He nodded.
‘That’s really sweet, Joel.’
‘I shouldn’t have let him do it.’
‘He just would’ve done it without you. More chicken?’
‘No thanks.’
‘How about another beer? We might as well finish them off.’ She gave him a beer, popped hers open, took a drink, and rubbed the cool wet can against her face. ‘Oh, that feels good.’ She opened the top two buttons of her blouse. Joel looked away as she slipped the can inside. It felt icy on her breasts, made her nipples rigid. Unfastening another button, she slid the can across her belly. Joel, facing the river, gulped his beer. ‘You should try it’.
He shrugged, and kept on drinking. Linda crawled over to him. ‘No, it’s . . .’
‘Lie back.’
‘No, really . . .’ But he didn’t resist as Linda pushed his shoulder. He eased backwards, stretching out his legs and holding his beer can at his side.
Linda knelt beside him. Leaning over, her blouse gaping, she plucked off his sunglasses. He glanced at her breasts and quickly looked up to her face. He flinched as she worked open a button of his shirt. ‘Wh . . .?’
‘Won’t hurt a bit,’ she told him. Grinning, she continued to unfasten his shirt. His chest was hairless and pale. ‘Ready?’ He nodded. Linda pressed her beer can to his right nipple. He cringed, then laughed. ‘See? Feels good, doesn’t it?’
‘Yeah.’
The can made a damp path down his skin. She slid it over his left nipple, then down his ribs. His belly sucked in at its cold touch. The front of his Bermudas bulged with the push of an erection.
‘Roll over, I’ll do your back.’
‘This is weird,’ he said.
‘You like it, don’t you?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, sitting up.
Linda helped him take his shirt off. Then he twisted around and lay down flat. He stiffened when she touched the can between his shoulder blades. She moved it slowly down his back, and up again, and then she upended it. Beer gurgled onto his shoulders.
‘Hey!’ he cried. He rolled away. Laughing, Linda pursued him on her knees, spilling beer onto his hair and face and chest. ‘No! Don’t!’
She stopped, and drank the final drops.
‘Geez, you got it all over me!’
‘Felt good, didn’t it?’
‘I’m a mess!’ He wiped his chest, and glared at his hands. He looked as if he might cry.
‘I’m sorry. I thought you’d like it.’
‘I’m a mess.’
‘You can do it to me,’ she offered, and picked up Joel’s can. She jiggled it. ‘Half full. Come on.’
He shook his head.
‘You want to, I can tell.’
‘It’s all right,’ he said.
r /> ‘Come on. Turn-about’s fair play.’
‘I don’t want to get you messy.’
She set the can on the blanket near his knees. And then she took off her blouse.
Joel stared.
‘Pour it on me,’ she whispered.
Joel, looking dazed, picked up the can. He came forward on his knees.
‘On my breasts,’ she said.
Joel raised the can and tipped it. The cool beer splashed Linda’s shoulder, washed over her breast, streamed around it, ran off the tip of her nipple. Joel gazed as if transfixed. He moved the can, and the beer spilled onto her other breast. It slid off, ran down her belly.
Moaning, Linda rubbed her breasts as if massaging the beer into them.
Joel poured until the can was empty.
Linda smiled and lowered her hands. ‘Geez,’ she said, ‘you got it all over me. I’m a mess.’
His mouth twitched with something like a smile.
‘I can’t go home like this,’ she said. ‘I smell like a brewery.’
‘Me too,’ Joel said.
‘We’d better wash it off,’ she whispered.
He nodded, still gazing at her breasts. His eyes stayed with her as she stood up. They lowered, and his mouth dropped open when she unfastened her shorts.
‘You gonna spend all afternoon catching flies,’ Linda asked, ‘or are you coming in?’
She kicked off her shorts and stood naked in front of him, feet apart, hands on hips, head tilted to one side. ‘Well?’
He blinked. He licked his lips. He seemed to have a hard time breathing.
‘Need help?’
He shook his head. ‘Why . . . why don’t you go on. I’ll be there. In a minute.’
‘All right, bashful.’ She turned away and skipped down the grassy bank. Where the grass ended, the shore was rocky. She trod carefully over the stones, and waded into the water. It wrapped her legs, just cool enough to be refreshing. When it reached her thighs, she turned around.
Joel came down the slope, hunched over as if he were cold, hands shielding the front of his striped boxer shorts. He walked gingerly over the stones.
‘Hey,’ Linda said, ‘you don’t want to get your shorts wet. How’ll you explain it to your mother?’
He groaned. Turning away, he pulled them down. He pinned them to the ground with a rock, then backed toward the water. When it reached his knees, he dropped. He swung around and paddled for deeper water. Two yards from Linda, he stopped. He stayed low, covered to the shoulders, and stared up at her. He looked frightened but eager.
‘Come here,’ Linda said. ‘Rinse the beer off me.’
‘Geez.’
‘Come on.’
He waddled toward her.
‘Don’t hide from me. Stand up straight.’
He rose from the water, holding his cupped hands over his groin.
‘Splash me,’ Linda whispered. ‘Rub me. Get all the beer off.’
His hands dipped into the water, and he flung it up at her. He splashed her again and again, as if giving up his attempts to cover himself. His penis stood upright and rigid. With open hands, he stroked Linda’s body. At first, he was business-like as if actually concerned about washing off the beer. But his hands began to linger on her breasts, sliding over them, fingering her stiff nipples, gently squeezing.
‘Now you,’ Linda said. She eased his hands away. They hung at his sides while she threw water onto his chest. She caressed him, her hands roaming lower, and finally her fingers curled around his erection. He gasped as they slid down it.
She let go.
‘There,’ she said. ‘All clean.’ With a laugh, she sprang away and dived. She clawed from rock to rock, pulling herself along the bottom. Then Joel grabbed her foot. She kicked free and surfaced. Joel popped from the water.
‘I don’t think we got all the beer off,’ he said.
‘Well well.’ She stepped toward him through the neck-high water, and felt his hands on her breasts. She moved still closer. His erection prodded her belly. Squirming against it, she hooked her arms behind his back, kissed him. She brought her legs up, wrapped them around him. ‘Do you want me?’ she whispered against his lips.
He only moaned.
Reaching down with one hand, she found his penis. It felt huge and warm. She held it, and lowered herself. It spread her, pushed into her, slid in deep. She hugged Joel tightly with her arms and legs, writhed, felt him penetrate even more.
His breath blew hard against her face. He held her more tightly and started to grunt, suddenly throbbing and pumping inside her, and jerked wildly, still coming, when Linda slammed the rock against the back of his head. He blinked, looking puzzled.
‘That was your last wish,’ Linda said, and struck again.
He tried to shove her away, but she clung with her legs and one arm, and pounded his head again.
He jerked at her hair.
The wig came off in his hand. He made a whimpering noise and she struck again, this time smashing the rock against his temple. His eyes rolled upward. He swayed. Linda shoved away from him, feeling an odd moment of loss when his penis left. She watched him go under. Tossing away the rock, she lunged for her floating wig. She shoved it onto her head, then went for Joel.
She found him a few inches under the surface, face down, arms and legs moving in a lazy way, hair stirring in the currents.
She curled her fingers through his hair, gripped it, and steered him lower. She rolled him onto his back. She guided him between her legs and clamped his head between her knees.
The river swirled around her. It pushed Joel, turned him slowly.
Finally, Linda opened her knees.
The body slipped away, feet first, and vanished in the murky water.
13
‘THE MACHETE has to go,’ Roger said.
‘What?’
‘I know it’s a drag, I know it’s all set. We’ll shoot around the splash scene and take it up on Monday.’
‘What’s wrong with the machete?’ Dani asked.
‘Not a thing. It’s beautiful, beautiful.’ He squeezed her shoulder as if to comfort her. ‘But here’s the thing, I caught Friday the 13th Part II on ON last night and there’s a guy catches a machete in the face.’
‘I know. I told you that a month ago.’
‘No big deal, right? Instead of a machete, our boy catches an ax.’ He turned away and yelled, ‘Bruce! The ax!’
The prop master, standing across the set by the coffee machine, nodded and hurried off.
‘Wait till you see it,’ Ralph said. ‘It’s a beauty. We’ll give it to Bill right in the forehead, same as the machete, but nobody can say we’re ripping off Friday Part II. Bruce!’
‘Yo,’ the prop man called. He rushed forward, carrying a shiny new ax at port-arms. He handed it to Roger.
‘Wicked, eh?’ Roger winked behind his tinted glasses, and tapped a finger against the cutting edge.
‘It’s a bit too wicked,’ Dani told him. ‘It’s a lot heavier than the machete, and the weight isn’t distributed the same way.’
‘Yes?’
‘It would chop right through the catcher’s mask.’
‘Have your man pull the blow.’
She shook her head. ‘He’d have to strike hard enough to penetrate the face appliance. It’s too risky. Besides, it wouldn’t look right. An ax just isn’t a machete, Roger. It wouldn’t go in just a couple of inches. Not the way we’d want our maniac to swing it.’ Dani drew a finger across her forehead. ‘It’d pretty much take off everything from here up.’
Roger leered and nodded. ‘Beautiful. That’s what we’ll do.’
‘It’d take a full head appliance.’
‘You’ll have it ready for Monday?’
She nodded. ‘Michael’s about the same size as Bill. We can use his mannequin, attach Bill’s head.’
‘Fine, fine. Go to it, kid.’
She explained the situation to Jack as they left the sound stage.
&nb
sp; ‘That means we’re done for the day,’ he said.
‘Yep.’
‘Nice. If you want to bring the car around, Bruce and I can take care of Michael.’
‘That’s all right. I love to see all those old props. Like a museum.’
Bruce smiled over his shoulder as he unlocked the door. ‘Just watch out for the mice,’ he said.
‘Mice?’
He laughed. ‘Cute little critturs, but they have a tendency to get under foot.’
‘I’ll watch where I step,’ Dani told him. In her boots and jeans, she felt well protected. Still, she spent most of her time studying the concrete floor as she followed Jack and Bruce through the narrow aisles.
On both sides, the warehouse was packed with furnishings. She saw a dusty, roll-top desk, highboys, dining room sets and sofas, floor lamps and table lamps and chandeliers. Then she watched the floor again, looking for mice but glancing at the framed paintings propped up on both sides of the aisle.
They turned a corner. She saw replicas of Venus and David, a statue of Napoleon, bird baths, fountains adorned with cherubs, naked women, a man balanced on one foot with his lips pursed to squirt.
She stepped on something small and soft. With a gasp, she jerked her foot up.
Only a scrap of thick-napped carpet.
‘Here we are,’ Bruce said.
Standing against the wall as if lined up for inspection were fifteen or twenty naked mannequins. Dani’s eyes went directly to the life-like figure with the blasted face. Then she looked carefully up and down the row, pausing at each female.
She frowned.
‘Where’s Ingrid?’
‘Ingrid?’ Bruce asked.
‘Me! Where is she?’
‘Must be around,’ he said.
‘I don’t see her,’ Jack muttered.
Bruce shook his head, scratched his ear.
‘You’re in charge, aren’t you?’ Dani demanded.
‘I put her there, right next to the fella. Had ’em both side by side.’
‘She isn’t there now.’
‘I can see that, Miss Larson. Plenty of other folks have access here. Could be someone borrowed it.’
‘I’d like to know.’
He scowled, looking puzzled. ‘I’ll sure look into it for you.’
Jack took her hand. ‘I’m sure it’ll turn up.’