Page 11 of Resurrection Dreams


  He shut off the VCR, moved the bowl off his lap, and hurried upstairs to his bedroom. He switched on the light. Patricia, sitting up in bed, looked worried for a moment, then smiled and combed fingers through her mussed blond hair. She had been wearing one of his mother’s nightgowns, but now it lay on the floor. The rumpled sheet lay across her legs.

  “Something wrong?” Melvin asked.

  “I woke up and you weren’t here.”

  “I just went downstairs to look at some television.”

  The hand in her hair moved down. It curled over her left breast. Staring into Melvin’s eyes, she squeezed her breast. Then she circled the nipple with a fingertip. The center grew and jutted. She pinched the nub between her thumb and forefinger and pulled, stretching it.

  “Do you want to play?” she asked.

  “Again?” Melvin asked, grinning.

  “I like it.” She twisted her nipple and squirmed. “You like it, too, don’t you?”

  “I don’t like getting bit.”

  “I won’t.”

  “That’s what you said last time.”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay.” Melvin turned toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  He looked around at her. She had let go of her nipple, which was a relief to Melvin. He knew that she seemed oblivious to pain, but it had still made him nervous to watch her pulling and twisting so hard. “I’ll come right back.”

  “Can I come, too?” She looked worried again. Clearly, she didn’t want him out of her sight. Ever. That morning, she’d actually cried when Melvin explained that he needed to leave her alone. She’d begged to go with him. Finally, he’d locked her in the basement. By the time he returned from taking the car to Vicki, she was hysterical.

  This could get to be a real nuisance.

  “Just wait here,” he told her.

  Frowning, she nodded bravely.

  Melvin hurried down the hallway to the bathroom. He took a fresh roll of adhesive tape out of the medicine cabinet, then returned to the bedroom.

  While he was away, Patricia had moved the top sheet to the end of the bed and stretched out. Her hands were folded beneath her head.

  “Was that quick enough?” he asked.

  “I guess.”

  He draped his robe across the chair. Patricia, staring at him, licked her lips as he walked to the bed. He climbed onto her and sat across her hips. Her skin was cool under his rump. He felt the tickle of her pubic hair.

  The pad of gauze just above her navel had come loose at one end. He tried to lift it for a peek at the wound, but it was stuck to her. He remembered how Vicki had used alcohol to loosen the bandage on his hand. Maybe he would try that. Later.

  He touched the pyramid he had carved into Patricia last night, and felt the stiff, thin ridge of a scab.

  “I guess you’re healing,” he said.

  “Is that good?”

  “Sure.”

  She bounced gently a couple of times, thrusting herself up against him. “Aren’t we going to play?”

  “In a minute.” He peeled a four-inch strip of adhesive tape off the spool and tore it loose. “Close your mouth,” he said.

  “I won’t bite.”

  “I know.”

  She closed her mouth and smiled. She slipped a hand from beneath her head. It slid down her body and touched him. Her fingers curled around him and lightly slid up and down his shaft while he applied two strips of tape. When he was done, her lips were sealed by the big white X. “Isn’t gonna hold you,” he said. “But if you make the tape come off, I’m leaving. Understand?”

  Patricia nodded.

  “Cause it really hurts when you bite.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It seemed rather silly to be sunbathing since the lotion would prevent her from getting a tan, but Vicki felt good sprawling on the lounge, the sun hot on her back, the late afternoon breeze sometimes sliding over her.

  She supposed she might get some tan, in spite of the screening lotion. She hoped so. She wanted to look good in her new bikini, just in case she should ever wear it to the beach.

  Could’ve skipped the sun block, she thought. A little exposure this time of day wouldn’t kill me.

  But she knew that without the block she would’ve felt too guilty to enjoy the sunbathing.

  Reaching behind her back, Vivki tied the strings of her bikini top. Then she rolled over, folded her hands beneath her head, and shut her eyes.

  It had been a fine Saturday.

  There may have been nightmares last night, but she’d awakened without any memory of them. Nor had she torn her nightgown in her sleep—because she’d left it off. Smart move, that.

  The running couldn’t have been much finer. No Dexter Pollock annoyed her on the way out. A mist hung over the town, muffling the streetlights so they looked like glowing balls of cotton. The mist also seemed to muffle sounds, making the morning seem unnaturally silent and peaceful. The heavy air, while not exactly cool, felt less warm than usual. She wore her shorts and T-shirt. No need for a warm-up suit with Dexter out of the way. She ran fast. The air washed over her. Instead of taking her usual route, she ran south so she wouldn’t have to see Melvin’s car sitting in the clinic lot, wouldn’t have to worry about confronting or avoiding the stranger who’d been in the park those other two mornings.

  On the way back, she stopped in the bakery and bought doughnuts with money she had tucked into her sock for that purpose. When Ace got up, they pigged out.

  Then she went with Ace to the shop. Ace opened up, and Vicki browsed for a long time, and finally bought shorts and a knit shirt and a skimpy white string bikini—all at the 20% “sawbones” discount.

  After that, she returned to the house and spent hours just sitting around, catching up on the medical journals and taking breaks to read a mystery. Ace came home early, leaving Jennifer in charge of the store, and they got into their bikinis to “catch some rays.”

  All in all, a great way to spend a Saturday. Vicki couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent such a peaceful, relaxing day.

  As she lay there thinking about it, she heard the shower go on. Though she wasn’t eager to move, she knew that she would shower after Ace got out. That would feel good. The plan, then, was to linger over a batch of margaritas and fire up the grill and make hamburgers for supper. Then, they would head into town, pick up two or three movies at the video store, and spend the evening in front of the television. Sounded good to Vicki. Sounded perfect.

  The telephone rang.

  Ace in the shower.

  Sighing, Vicki flung herself off the lounge. She raced barefoot across the patio, jerked open the screen door, and rushed through the kitchen to the wall phone. She snatched up the handset. “Hello?”

  “Who’s this?” A male voice. Familiar.

  “Vicki. Alice can’t come to the phone, right now. Would you like to leave a message?”

  “Hi, Vicki.” Suddenly, too familiar.

  “Melvin?”

  “Thought you might be there. How you doing?”

  I was doing just great. “Okay. I wish you’d stop over at the clinic and pick up your car.”

  “I got no use for it. You go ahead and keep it.”

  “I don’t want it, Melvin. Honest. I appreciate your gesture. It was very thoughtful, but please.”

  “You don’t like it? You want a different kind?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the car. I just can’t accept a gift like that—not even as a loan. Okay? So if you’d just take it away again, I’d…”

  “I can’t. You’ve got the keys.”

  You dropped them down my dress.

  “Do you have another set?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll drop the car off at the station.”

  “I’m home. You wanta bring it here?”

  “I can’t do it now, anyway. I’m pretty busy right now. I’ll just take it to the station sometime, maybe to
morrow or Monday. Okay?”

  “Okay.” He sounded disappointed. “Vicki?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry. I only just wanted to help. I figured you could use a car, you know? I wasn’t trying to cause you no trouble. Guess I messed up, huh?”

  “No, you didn’t mess up.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. You were just being nice. I understand that. I just can’t go around accepting gifts like that.”

  “From me.”

  “From anyone. Don’t put yourself down, Melvin.”

  “Why not? Everybody else does.”

  “I’ve really got to go, now. Have a nice evening.”

  “You, too.”

  “Bye.” She hung up, slumped against the wall, and muttered, “Why me, Lord?”

  Hearing the water shut off, Vicki went to her bedroom. She picked up her robe, sat on the edge of the bed, and wondered what to do about Melvin.

  The car business wouldn’t be the end of it.

  What next? Would he send flowers, ask her for a date?

  She wanted nothing to do with him, damn it. But she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. God knows, he’d spent his life getting dumped on.

  Through the doorway, she saw Ace leave the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around her head. Another, tucked together between her breasts, hung down just far enough to cover her groin.

  “Save me any hot water?” Vicki called, rising from the bed and stepping into the hall.

  “I took that shower so fast I hardly got my butt wet.”

  “Why the hurry?”

  “I got me a powerful thirst.”

  “Did you hear the phone?”

  “One of my myriad admirers?”

  “Melvin.”

  “No shit?” Grinning, she leaned sideways against the door frame. “He’s tracked you to your lair.”

  “You may think it’s funny.”

  “I think it’s love.”

  “You’d be smirking out the other side of your face if it was you he had the hots for.”

  “I wouldn’t be smirking at all, hon, I’d be barfing.”

  Vicki leaned against the wall, the robe draped over her forearm, and stared at Ace. Ace stared back. Her grin slipped away. “So what’re you gonna do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You scared?”

  “A little, I guess.”

  “Never should’ve been nice to him. That was your first mistake. You take a loser like that and treat him nice, you’re asking for it. You can afford to be nice to somebody normal, a normal guy isn’t gonna blow it all out of proportion and fall in love with you and get crazy. A guy like Melvin, you’ve gotta either ignore him or treat him bad. That’s the only way to play it safe.”

  “Yeah, well the damage is already done.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “What’ll I do?” Vicki asked.

  “Tell him to fuck off.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Want me to do it for you?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t want him mad at you.”

  “It’s not that, exactly.”

  “I know. You feel sorry for him. That’s what got you into this.”

  “But how do I get out of it?”

  “Short of moving out of town? Well, I know something that worked for me. There was this guy, Blake Bennington. You wouldn’t know him, he showed up while you were in med school. A real yuck. He came into the shop one day and I sold him a swimming suit and I thought I’d never see the end of him. Talk about a royal pain. He wouldn’t leave me alone. The more I told him to fuck off, the more he wanted to fuck me. I just couldn’t get rid of him.

  “There’s this thing about guys like that. They think they’re in love with you, but they aren’t. What they love is their idea of you. And that just grows if you keep your distance from the guy. So what you’ve got to do is get up-close and personal. Shatter the image.

  “What I did, I finally let Blake take me out. We went to the Fireside Chalet. I tell you, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. We’re both sitting there in our fancy duds, drinking and having lobster tails, the way he looked at me, you’d think I was Venus or something. So then about half way through the meal, I laid this gorgeous fart.”

  “Oh, no,” Vicki said.

  “During dessert, I kind of casually started picking my nose. I actually got out a pretty good-sized booger and wiped it on the edge of my plate. He kept glancing at it. Couldn’t keep his eyes off the thing.

  “He was down, but not out. He went ahead and took me to his apartment after dinner. He tried to get me out of my dress, and I told him I didn’t think he’d better because, after all, my skin rash might be contagious.”

  “Gawd,” Vicki said.

  “And I told him that even if it wasn’t contagious, I was pretty embarrassed and didn’t want anybody to see my runny sores. And besides which, it was my time of the month and did he really want blood all over everything?”

  “Sounds like you laid it on a little thick.”

  “He got pretty depressed. We both drank more and more. Finally, I threw up on his coffee table.”

  Vicki shook her head.

  Ace grinned. “All this apparently had a subtle but profound effect on the fantasies he’d built up around me.”

  “Subtle.”

  “He never asked me out again. In fact, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid me.”

  “And you think I should try something like that with Melvin.”

  “Just a thought. It’s a tried and true method. And it’s a way to get rid of him without wounding his pride. You don’t tell him to take a hike, he decides he wants to take a hike. Perfect solution to your little dilemma.”

  Vicki pushed herself away from the wall. “Know something, Ace?”

  “Plenty.”

  “You’re crazier than shit.”

  Ace laughed. “I might be crazy, but I got rid of the guy. Think about it.” She headed for her room.

  While Vicki took her shower, she did think about it. She knew she couldn’t pull off such stunts as Ace had described. Even if she had the guts, her sense of dignity wouldn’t permit it.

  But Ace had a good point about idealizing.

  Melvin doesn’t know me. If he thinks he’s in love, or something, it’s because of fantasies. The more I try to avoid him, the more he’ll probably want me.

  Spend some time with him?

  Ugh!

  When she finished her shower, she put on shorts and a T-shirt and joined Ace in the kitchen. Ace had already prepared a batch of margaritas in the blender. The glasses were rimmed with salt, waiting for her arrival. Ace gave the blender another buzz, then filled the glasses with the frothy cocktail.

  They went out to the patio and sat at the table.

  Vicki sipped her drink. “Delicious.”

  “And good for you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

  “Gonna barf on Melvin?”

  “Hardly. God, I don’t really want to do this, but it makes sense.”

  “What? Spell it out, Einstein.”

  “Meet with him. Not to gross him out, or anything. But I can see a couple of ways it could help. For one thing, it’s bound to put a crimp in his fantasy life if he spends some time with the real me.”

  “Except the real you is so adorable.”

  “Right. I know I’m wonderful, but I bet I don’t live up to his image, whatever that might be.”

  “Especially if you cut the cheese.”

  “The other thing is, even if he isn’t turned off by a dose of my adorable self, it still ought to take some of the fuel out of the fire. Just because of access.”

  “You gonna give him access?”

  “People mostly desire what they can’t have.”

  “Right. Go to bed with him.”

  “The more I try to avoid him, the more he’ll need to be with me. It’s like roots. If a plant isn’t gett
ing enough water, its roots keep growing longer and longer.”

  “Christ. You go away to school, you come back deep. Roots, for godsake.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Right. You don’t want Melvin’s root growing longer and longer. So what’s the plan?”

  “Meet him someplace in public. Have a couple of drinks with him. Just socialize for maybe an hour or so. With you along for moral support.”

  “Oh, good. I’d hate to miss it.”

  “How about the Riverfront Bar? Tonight?”

  “That’s about as public as you can get.”

  They drank up, and went into the kitchen. While Ace refilled their glasses, Vicki checked the telephone directory. Melvin was listed.

  Ace stood there, watching as she dialed.

  Through the earpiece, Vicki listened to the ringing. She felt a little breathless. Her heart was pounding, her stomach knotted. After the sixth ring, she began to hope he wasn’t home.

  Maybe this isn’t such a hot idea, she thought.

  Maybe try it for another night.

  Like next month.

  After the tenth ring, Melvin answered. “Who’s this?”

  “Vicki.”

  “Vicki?” He sounded amazed. “Hi!”

  “I was thinking about the car.”

  “Yeah. You wanta keep it?”

  “No, but I thought you might want to pick it up. Ace and I are going to be at the Riverfront Bar tonight at about ten o’clock. Why don’t you stop in, we’ll have a couple of drinks, and I’ll give you the keys. Then you can stop by the clinic later on and take the car home with you.”

  “Have drinks with you?”

  “Sure. It’ll give us a little chance to chat.”

  “Gosh.”

  “Okay?”

  “Sure. Sure. Ten o’clock?”

  “Right. See you then, Melvin.”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  Vicki hung up. She let out a deep, trembling breath. “I must be crazy,” she muttered.

  Ace handed a glass to her. “Crazy, but smart. It may work. Or it may not. Either way, you’ll have the joy of knowing you brought joy, however fleeting, into the otherwise drab existence of that young, adoring, demented, shit-for-brains dork.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Melvin whistled as he prepared his hamburger.