Freddy frowned. “I’ve got a lot of things going – different things at different times. You need to be more specific than that.” He was thinking about his finances. His colleagues wore TGI Fridays from Wal-Mart most days. They had roommates if they weren’t living in sin or married. They saw the labels on his clothes. They knew he owned his own home. It wasn’t a secret that he had made some wise investment decisions and some lucky ones as well but no one pried too deeply. The questions would begin now.
By 2005 Freddy was worth a lot. I don’t know how much but it was a lot. He had a knack for picking investments and he managed most of his funds himself. He was getting dividend checks amounting to nearly seventy grand each year. Most of that went back into something or other, expanding his portfolio even further. Freddy didn’t need the thirty-three and change this job was paying but both Jason and Sam certainly did.
“We want in,” Jason said and grinned like he was twelve again.
It wasn’t the money. Freddy had a new suspicion.
“We know all about it,” Sam added, “you fucking dog!”
“Look,” Freddy blinked, “speak plain or forget it.” He fought the urge to stand again. “I’ve got too much work-”
“The parties, man,” Jason was still grinning. He had good teeth – great teeth actually, considering he smoked most of his meals. “The fuckin’ parties!”
Sam nodded and grunted. “Yeah. We want in.”
Freddy sized them up. At the very least he needed to know who had told them. Something like the parties could cost him his job. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do.” Sam leaned forward. “It’s okay. We’re into it.”
“Sex parties, man. Holy fuck!” Jason made guns with both hands. “You’re a fuckin’ god, Freddy.”
It was hard for him to believe these two – Jason in particular – had the same formal education he did. It was easy to forget they were both going to turn thirty before the school year was out. “Who told you guys?” Freddy asked flatly.
Jason gaped. “Jesus, it’s true!”
Freddy waited. He was only annoyed at these two. Whoever had opened up about the parties to these two was a different matter. His rage toward that person was a molten ball thrust up beneath his ribs.
“Un-fucking-believable.” Jason sighed.
Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the slender dividing wall. He was trying to look relaxed but failing miserably. “So, you guys just have sex and that’s it. No strings attached.”
Freddy eye-balled the two of them. They were children. They had no idea what they were getting into. He felt a little sorry for them but mostly he just felt disgusted. The rage lay beneath. That world was his. What right did they have to intrude? Yet here they were clambering at the walls.
“You guys have no idea.” Freddy shook his head. “Sorry.” He tried turning around again, tried ignoring them. It didn’t work.
Jason reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Dude, we’re serious. We’re in.”
Freddy restrained himself. The hand on his shoulder brought the heat up in his temper. Ever since that morning when Dan Sobeleski had burst into his house and took him to the ground as if he were a child, he had been learning martial arts. He took Jujitsu and of late had been teaching himself Jeet-Kun-Do – Bruce Lee’s Kung-Fu. Freddy imagined rolling Jason’s wrist, locking elbow and shoulder and driving him painfully to the ground. Instead he breathed. His anger dissipated harmlessly.
“Whadya say?” Jason tried reasoning.
“I say you take your hand off my shoulder and forget about this.”
“What’s the big deal?” Sam asked. “Two more guys ain’t gonna turn it into a sausage party.”
“Freddy.” Jason dropped his hand away and now had both hands in front of his chest steepled in prayer. “I haven’t been laid in five months – and that chick, I didn’t know whether I was supposed to pay her or not!” He laughed crazily and Sam shook his head.
“Who told you about the parties?” Freddy repeated. Tell me and I’ll think about it.”
Jason and Sam glanced at each other. Whatever promise had been extracted from them, whatever payment had been made or more likely promised for their silence was forgotten in the space of two heartbeats.
“Sasha Kramer,” Sam said.
Jason put out a calming hand. “But she only told me because she wanted me to come and I really wanna come!” He grinned.
“You’re a pig,” Sam told him. He turned to Freddy. “I overheard them talking.”
Freddy studied one then the other. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “No.”
“Ah, c’mon!” Sam cried.
“Don’t be such a hog.” Jason stamped his feet in frustration. “There’s plenty to go around.”
Freddy ignored him and looked at Sam. “You got a girlfriend, don’t you?”
“Fiancée, actually,” Sam corrected him. “But it’s cool. We’ve talked about doing something like this. Maybe we can teach you a thing or two. I am Indian. We did write the Kama Sutra. You Caucasians are still trying to catch up.”
Freddy’s expression didn’t change while they snickered together. “Fine, Sam. How about a warm-up?”
“A warm-up?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Let me and Jason have a go at Rajni. You watch while Jason and I plug her like a pair of Chinese finger cuffs. We could swap ends a couple of times and nut on her tits together.” He glanced over at Jason’s wide face and winked. “I call the right one.”
Sam frowned. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m dead serious.” He knew Tina was right in being cautious when they were dating. When they were dating, he never would have been able to watch her with another man. “Watch us fuck her and you’re in.”
Sam frowned.
“You got this idea of what it’s gonna be like and what might go on. It’s a nice picture but there’s no flesh in it. No life. The real thing is something else entirely.”
Sam was quiet. He was thinking. He seemed to have a sober moment while the truth sunk in.
“I’m still in.” Jason put in stubbornly.
“How many women have you slept with?” Sam asked Freddy suddenly.
Freddy tried to think of a number. Even a round figure would do. It was too difficult. The faces and the flesh had long-since blurred. He was troubled by that. That was something he should know. It was his other body count but it was lost to him. “I don’t know,” he said finally.
“But it’s a lot?”
Freddy nodded. “Yeah, it’s a lot.”
“More than twenty?” Jason asked.
“Twenty?” Freddy knew with certainty there would be no hope for that one at the parties. “I’ve slept with five or six women in one night on more than twenty occasions. Twenty? I’m sure there have been months when I’ve slept with that many. It messes with you. Please, just drop it. It’ll fuck you up.”
“Maybe I can come as an observer or something,” Jason suggested, “see if I fit in, you know?”
Freddy considered it. Sam was out. That much was certain. Some guests might like an observer. “It’s not like I’m in charge you know. Even if I did say yes, the others would have to approve. There are four of us who organize things.”
“Are you saying yes?”
“No, I’m saying I’ll talk to them about it. Now drop it, okay?” Freddy gauged the sullen look in Sam’s face and he knew he was fine there. He wasn’t making friends but they were fine. Jason was different. Jason was vibrating. “And don’t mention this to anyone – anyone! You tell anyone and you can forget it. You won’t even get an invite to sit in the corner and jerk off! Understand?”
Jason calmed down. “Yeah, I got it.”
Freddy grunted. “Now leave me alone. Go for a smoke or something. I need to work.” He spun in his chair without waiting for a response. He took up Stacy Emerson’s paper again and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to pain
t her picture. Only her raw, open look of infallible confidence and hope would be right. He knew it but it didn’t matter. The vision of something young and soft with eyes wide and questioning filled his mind. She was wearing a pale, yellow sundress despite the November cold and she clutched her books to her chest like a child’s doll. It was perfect.
The vision shattered with a larger concern. He knew something had to be done about Sasha Kramer. Sasha had been added to the list only that September. What would be pure for Stacy became arrogant for Sasha. Confidence became an ugly thing for her. She had friends already on the list and she thought she had great ideas. She had only been to three parties and already she was trying to change things. Blabbing to the world was just the final straw. She wanted control. She wanted Freddy’s control.
I think Freddy was considering adding Sasha’s name to his more exclusive list before Jason and Sam approached him. Because Sasha had spoken to them, she probably saved her own life. She would never know it. A glittering blade had shot passed her throat in the darkness. It missed her by the fortune of a hair’s breadth.
Freddy had a second list even more exclusive than his first. It was the V.I.P. room over top of the V.I.P. room. It was a list for only the vilest – those who had crossed him, wronged him and managed to be safe from him. He saw their faces in those he did kill. Liza Harding was on that list. She was the first. Sasha Kramer became the last.
-
The High Council met about her and confronted her. Sasha made a scene. Freddy did most of the talking. Claire put in her piece but she had very little to say after Freddy. Janet Fontaine said nothing and Alex Walsh only stared at his coffee cup and tried to pretend he was somewhere else. After it was over, they still blamed Freddy for the fall-out despite their own silences.
They invited Sasha over to Freddy’s place on the first Thursday of December. The next party was in two days. It should have been simple. It should have been straight forward. Sasha’s invitation was being revoked. Others had been kicked out in the half-dozen or so years since Tina Armstrong started the whole thing. They typically argued and then later they begged. They usually left with an understanding they would not say anything about what went on during those Saturday evening gatherings.
Sasha didn’t accept her dismissal with anything remotely resembling tact or maturity. She became pompous and plain pissed off. “Who the fuck do you people think you are? You can’t kick me out. What the fuck?”
Freddy imagined the bones and cartilage in her neck bunching, crunching and snapping under his grip. Her throat would collapse like an empty milk carton and she would beat her last ineffectual struggles against his chest and his shoulders. He would feel the last fluttering beats of her heart through her jugular like an open D on a loose guitar string. The last thing she would see would be Freddy’s face. He would be smiling.
Freddy cast the fantasy aside. He adopted a serious demeanor and addressed her as formally as he could. “Ms. Kramer.” His lack of passion typically lent tremendous weight to these meetings. “We make the invitation list. We plan the events. We host them.” He gestured at himself and the other three members of the high council. “Point of fact, we are in charge. That is just who the fuck we think we are.”
“We have rules for a reason. You said you understood those rules,” Claire added in a softer voice. She was the good cop to his bad cop and she played it well. The other two were just dead weight. “You weren’t supposed to talk to anyone about it and you did. You broke the first rule.”
Sasha looked outraged. “This isn’t fight club, Bitch!”
Claire was taken aback and stunned into silence.
Freddy didn’t hesitate. His palm came out and struck the polished teak top of the coffee table. It was a big palm – nearly as big as his father’s had been – and Freddy struck hard. In the quiet living room flesh on wood was a shotgun blast. “Enough!” He barked. The force of his anger caused everyone to jump. Aside from Sasha, these were people he had known for years and they had never known him to raise his voice save to be heard over the music and, even then, he tended to only lean in close.
“I should ask you who you think you are, Ms. Kramer.” His voice had returned its previous calm detachment – easily as startling as his outburst. “We,” he gestured again at the high council. “We started these parties back when you were still in a training bra and creaming your little pink cotton panties over the Backstreet Boys. This is my house and this is our list. You are no longer welcome in or on either.”
“That’s the problem,” Sasha replied smugly. But it was a smugness that covered up her hurt. “You guys are getting too old for the rest of us. I mean, ewe! C’mon. Maybe it’s time to grow up.” The hurt remained in her eyes but her look was challenging. The confidence, the arrogance was fighting to maintain its hold. She would never admit she was wrong and she would never apologize.
Freddy leaned forward over the table. “Little girl,” he said in his most condescending tone, “I think it is you who are too young for us. Maybe it is you who should grow up and learn your place. I think you are lacking the maturity needed for these … erotic parties.”
“Orgies!” Sasha laughed. “Just call them fucking orgies already. You’re like a politician or something.”
“There is more to it than just sex,” Claire tried. “Someday you might realize that.”
“No there isn’t,” she shook her head wildly, black hair and large hoop earrings flapping. “Sex is exactly what there is. There isn’t anything else!” Sasha stood and threw her arms up in the air. “God, you people are making big deal out of nothing. I’m gone – if that’s what you want. Oh, and I’m taking my friends with me. We’ll start our own parties – our own orgies! Have fun with her saggy tits, Freddy.” She finished by the front door and jammed her feet into her boots. Her coat was unbuttoned and her gloves and hat were still in a pocket but she would not even stay long enough to put those on. “Fuck-you very much,” she said to the four of them. “Fuck-you very much indeed.” Sasha stormed out and slammed the door hard at her heels.
In that moment Freddy saw himself reaching out, grabbing hold of the faux fur collar of her coat and yanking her back hard before she could leave. She landed hard on her ass on the hand-split slate his mother so loved and bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood.
Freddy didn’t stop there. He palmed her forehead and thrust with all his strength, slamming her head into the stone tiles. A soft, stunned questioning breath escaped her. He stood and pounded the heel of his right foot into her face once, twice, thrice. The first blow would likely have killed her, the third made her unrecognizable.
He saw himself do it, but as the fantasy played out, the echo of his front door slamming shut was already fading.
“That could have gone better,” Alex commented as silence returned.
Claire looked at him and Freddy could see that she was upset. “Maybe you could have put your input in sooner, ass!”
Alex gave her a hurt look and stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this. I’ve got people to call. If I don’t get to them before she does, we’re not going to have much of a turnout this weekend.”
Freddy scoffed.
“No, Freddy,” he said quickly. “She’s right – sort of. To most of these people it’s just about the sex, just about cuttin’ loose. You know what I mean. To me, to you, to us it has become something more than that.”
Freddy didn’t reply. He felt Claire’s hand come into his.
Alex muttered to himself and headed for the door. Janet had been silent since Sasha arrived. She rose now. “I should go too,” she said. She gave Freddy and Claire a pair of quick hugs and went to the door beside Alex. “I might have a few names to fill in the blanks. We’ll talk. Love ya guys.” The two of them slipped out leaving Freddy and Claire alone together.
She made to pull her hand away but Freddy held on. She gave him a warm smile but her eyes were sad. “It is something more now, isn’t it?”
Fred
dy waited.
“It isn’t even about sleeping with a bunch of people any more. It isn’t the freedom, the sharing, right?”
He nodded and kissed her hand. He could smell the faint cloy scent of cigarette smoke lingering on her fingers beneath the fresh smell of hand soap. “It’s about something else entirely.” Freddy leaned into her and kissed her forehead. He kissed her lips.
She didn’t stop him. Her long auburn hair poured through his fingers like fine sand.
“I think we’ve been missing something from the very beginning.”
Her hands twined in the loose collar of his golf shirt, her fingers tracing the unfastened buttons near his throat. “You know, don’t you?”
“The singular touch,” he nodded. “It’s something Tina wanted and I don’t think she ever got. Despite what she insisted on calling it I don’t think we ever made love – truly made love.”
Claire’s sadness faded into understanding. She was close enough to taste.
“I’ve only ever made love once in my life,” Freddy admitted. “I realize that now. That was, God,” he remembered. “That was more than ten years ago. I was barely more than a boy and I didn’t know any better but that was a moment I never wanted it to end. It wasn’t surreal. It was ethereal. It was infinite and it was ephemeral.”
“I don’t think I ever made love like that.”
“It’s the opposite. It’s exactly the opposite.” Freddy stood and drew her to her feet. “You give up freedom. You absolutely submit. Thought ceases. Everything you do, you do for your lover but also for yourself. When it is over the world just seems a little bit crisper, brighter and nicer. It is more focused.”
Claire was smiling at him. “That sounds nice.”
“Can I make love to you?” Freddy asked her with the trembling uncertainty of adolescence.
Her smile faded. Darkness swam in her eyes. She stood in one of those moments where her path diverged. The pivot swayed. She chose with the full knowledge that she could never go back. Claire nodded and let herself into his embrace. “Yes,” she said and trod a cobbled path rimmed in frost.
-
After The Flesh Page 41