The mattress felt damp, but not wet. I felt its chill seep through my jeans.
‘You lived in the city?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So why’d you move out here?’
‘My dad borrowed some money and bought a gas station on the highway.’
‘Which one?’
‘The Gulf station just this side of the perimeter.’
‘That one’s always getting new owners. Ever since the perimeter was built. But just because your dad now owns it, it doesn’t mean you had to move out of the city. I mean, why come out here to this hell-hole?’
‘Hell-hole?’
‘Sure. Middlecross is a dump. It’s boring. Stupid and boring.’
‘I don’t think so. Anyway, houses are cheaper out here.’
‘No kidding. You want to try some?’
‘No.’
‘Ever smoked a joint?’
‘No.’
‘Want to?’
‘Not really.’
‘You’re sounding like a suck.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Really? No, I mean, really?’
‘Really. I don’t care. I’ve never cared. Aren’t you done yet?’
Jennifer laughed, throaty and low, and it made me tighten up inside. She said, ‘Going with you this summer is going to be fun.’ She took a last drag then stamped out the cigarette.
‘The way you say that makes me nervous.’
‘It should.’
She leaned close and pushed her mouth against mine. Her lips were soft, her tongue hot and leaving a bitter taste everywhere it probed. She put a hand behind my head and pushed her mouth harder against mine. The taste of her spit was a shock and I tried to decide if I liked it, then told myself that I’d learn to no matter what.
Jennifer finally pulled back. Our eyes met and she smiled. ‘Not bad,’ she said in a way that was both a question and an opinion.
I nodded.
‘You hard, Owen?’
I nodded.
‘Feel my tits.’
As I pressed my hands against her breasts she pulled me down so that we lay side by side on the bed. She unbuttoned her jean jacket, revealing the t-shirt underneath, and I reached inside, setting my palms against her nipples.
‘Play with them. The nipples. You can pinch and pull, they won’t break.’
I did this carefully, listening to her breathing, sensitive to how she moved. It was easy now since I’d already come in my pants, so quietly that she’d never even noticed; and though I was getting hard again it didn’t seem so urgent this time.
We kissed and played for a few minutes longer, then Jennifer sat up, her face flushed as she stared down at me. ‘Let’s have a joint.’
‘No. Maybe next time.’
‘How come?’
‘Because. Because I’m fine right now. I like how it is right now.’
Her immediate response was a scowl, then the expression faded and became thoughtful. I studied her face, knowing that I’d never forget how it was at this moment. The skin was smooth, clear, though the faintest lines bracketed her wide mouth and I remembered Mother warning Debbie about how smoking made wrinkles. Even so, I thought those lines were beautiful.
Her breath had quickened as I studied her, her cheeks bright red. She hadn’t panted as hard when I’d played with her breasts. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded in a harsh whisper.
‘Looking.’
‘Are you finished?’
I sighed. ‘For now.’
She was silent as I sat up on the edge of the mattress. Suddenly I wasn’t sure what her question had meant, and as a long minute passed, I concluded that she’d been asking about the necking. It seemed we’d stopped.
‘Let’s make this our special place,’ she said as she stood and buttoned up her jacket.
‘Sure.’
She rounded on me. ‘That’s it? That’s all you can say?’
I grinned. ‘This was great, Jennifer. I don’t show my excitement much. My dad says he’ll die of old age before he ever sees me excited.’
She lit another cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke. She smiled and studied me with half-closed eyes. ‘I felt you excited, Owen,’ she said quietly.
‘Huh?’
‘Never mind.’
We left the bedroom.
Outside, the air felt crisp, fresh. Clouds hid the dying sun. Jennifer laughed. ‘So now I bet you’ll run and tell your friends you got a girlfriend.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘Why not? Are you embarrassed or something?’
‘No, just selfish.’
We started walking back to the highway. ‘Well,’ Jennifer said, ‘I’ll tell my friends.’
Hearing that made me feel good, so I thought for a moment then said, ‘I’ll tell them.’
We held hands as we made our way across the field.
‘I got another secret place we can go,’ I said as we neared the train tracks. ‘One of the boats at the Yacht Club. It’s in the yards. Abandoned. Me and Lynk and Roland broke into it. We were working on it, fixing it up, but they don’t like going there any more. Too many people hanging around. But during the week the yard’s as empty as it ever was.’
‘My God, that’s the most you’ve ever said to me!’
‘Well, we’re going together now, aren’t we?’
We climbed the steep bank and paused on the tracks. Jennifer said, ‘Looks like we won’t have to tell our friends anything.’
Roland, Carl and Lynk stood behind the school, and that girl, Barb, was there as well. They had seen us.
We were still holding hands. ‘Well?’ Jennifer asked.
I frowned, unsure, then I put my arms around her. We kissed. A moment later we made our way down to the chain-link fence, climbed it, then approached the others. We weren’t holding hands any more, but I knew that it didn’t matter.
The girl, Barb, had a wild look in her eyes as she stared at us. Roland, Lynk and Carl said nothing, and none of them would meet my gaze.
‘There’s worms in his skull,’ Barb said to Jennifer. ‘My old man’s head is full of worms, and the flowers have sharp teeth when we throw them and they drag him down, you sewing more threads, Jen? Sandy’s a bitch, a blur, know who – what – I mean?’
I looked a question at Roland, who just shrugged.
Lynk said, ‘She’s been talking weird since we found her.’ He glared at me. ‘She never saw no worms in the skull.’
I slowly nodded.
‘She’s just ripped,’ Jennifer said, laughing. ‘Acid.’ She walked up to Barb. ‘How many hits?’
‘None. He just strokes. Under the sheets. That’s why I’m getting a car. But the highway’s full of trees and the roots are ropes – I’m tied down now. Two hits, Jen, I can’t come back, it’s been weeks—’
Jennifer embraced Barb and held her close. ‘Like hell, Barb. It’s just been hours. Just hours. We’re friends here. We’ll take care of you while you come down.’
‘I see scared’s face. Like the moon and it’s getting bigger. Closer. Closer comes scared’s face, Jen.’
‘Send it away, Barb. I’ll help.’ Jennifer led her friend to an alcove set into the wall.
‘Holy fuck,’ Lynk said. ‘LSD. Holy fuck.’
Roland stepped close to me. ‘You ain’t said anything, have you?’
I stared at him blankly.
‘To Jennifer. You ain’t said anything, have you?’
‘Oh. Of course not. Don’t worry.’
He sighed, looking away. ‘You two were at our old place, weren’t you?’
I felt a sudden jolt inside. Roland! He copped a feel with Jennifer. They’d necked.
‘My parents’ place, right?’
‘Oh. Yeah. Sorry.’
Roland smiled. ‘What for? It’s all right with me. Use it all you want, just don’t burn it down or anything.’
‘We won’t.’
Lynk made a show of punching me. ‘You fucker,’ he said
, grinning to take the edge off. ‘You and her, eh? Fucker. I was going to go with Barb…’
I laughed, meeting his eyes. ‘But you can’t find her.’
He glared for a moment, then laughed as well. ‘Fuckin’ no kidding, Owen. Holy fuck, eh? LSD.’
It seemed all right between us right then, and I felt a weight slip from my shoulders. I was still wary, but it felt all right, then. Roland sighed again, as if to say things were okay with him, too. And I felt close to them now. Finally.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Carl said, his tone belligerent and with enough force to make me turn in surprise.
‘What’s eating you?’
He looked away. ‘Nothing.’
Jennifer still held Barb, both of them leaning against the wall. Jennifer was singing to her friend, softly. I was startled to hear how beautiful her voice sounded. I headed over. ‘What should we do?’
Jennifer’s expression was worried. She paused in her singing and said, ‘It should be okay, I think. I’m not sure. A real bad trip. She’s done too much. You better go. She’s spooked with all you guys staring at her. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘What about supper at my place?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Okay. See you, then.’
‘Hey, give me a kiss first.’
I did. All the smells of her, the perfume, the cigarettes, now seemed familiar, welcoming. I whispered in her ear. She smiled, but it seemed uncertain, almost frightened. ‘Me too,’ she said.
We left them, and I found I was leading the way, Roland behind me, Lynk ranging out to the left but following all the same, and then Carl, of course, his hands jammed into the pockets of his blue corduroy pants, his eyes on the ground.
‘Summer’s begun,’ I said. ‘It’s about fucking time.’
IV
The truck dripped wet mud into silver puddles. Overhead the sky was clear, on fire with the morning sun. Fisk felt heat stir in the air.
The health inspector, Bill, emerged from behind the house, writing something down on his clipboard. ‘Christ, Hodgson,’ he said, ‘how can you stand it?’
‘Stand what? You going to cite me or something?’
‘No.’ He stretched out the word, pausing to remove his baseball cap and wipe his forehead. ‘Man, summer’s come early and come hard, eh? No,’ he continued, ‘it’s within regs, though a part of me says we got to change those regs.’
‘An official part?’
Bill laughed. ‘Don’t worry. Trying to get things through council’s pure hell. It’ll be years, though if the city rezones us all hell will break loose. Mink farms ain’t popular any more, you know.’
‘Doubt they ever were,’ Fisk said, probing the bandage on his nose. Walked into a door, Bill, can you believe something so stupid? Cold sober, too. Must be getting old, eh?
They entered the house and Fisk led Bill into the kitchen, where he poured two cups of coffee. The inspector sat down and sipped. ‘Of course, the market’s still strong, eh?’
‘Yep.’
‘And what with all the ruckus about leg-hold traps, farming the animals makes sense. Even so, Hodgson, I don’t envy you. Those aren’t wild animals any more. I don’t know what they are, but the way they look at you gives a man the creeps.’
‘You get used to it.’
‘No thank you.’ Bill looked up at Fisk. ‘Now, about that mound under the pole…’
‘Household garbage.’
‘You swear that’s true, Hodgson?’
‘On my wife’s grave.’
‘All right.’ Bill drained his coffee and rose. ‘There’s a move to restrict burning to Sundays. Probably won’t pass, but I’ll let you know.’
‘Sure thing.’
‘Man, I don’t envy you.’
They walked to the back porch. Bill slipped his pen into his shirt pocket. ‘How come you never drop by the Legion? We’d welcome you, you know. Man, the stories you’d tell … I’ve seen your service record, you know.’
Fisk shrugged. ‘What’s the point of telling stories? Especially these days. The only people listening were there themselves. You see the way those hippies act on Remembrance Days? Bloody little shits.’
‘No argument there, Hodgson. Even so, no matter what’s being said these days, some of us know what’s still important. You’re a goddamned hero, Hodgson—’
‘No I’m not. I had the bad luck of being in one nightmare after another, and the good luck of coming through alive.’
‘We think it’s important to keep alive the memories of those who weren’t so lucky.’
Fisk scowled. He didn’t like the way the conversation was going, and the tension and brittle anger behind Bill’s words made him nervous. ‘I remember them, Bill. Believe me. I don’t forget, ever, and I’ll defend those memories for ever, in my own way. Can’t you leave it at that? I don’t mean to be disrespectful—’
‘I’d never think that, Hodgson. Not you. Anyway’ – Bill sighed as he stepped down from the porch – ‘we’d like your company, no strings attached.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
Bill climbed into his truck. Fisk waved once as the man started it up and drove around the maypole, then back down the driveway. He stayed on the porch and watched until the truck rolled out of sight.
‘In my own way,’ he said again.
The cellar was quiet. Bruise’s death looked to have taken the fire out of the others. Fisk flicked on the lamp and activated the cattle prod. Bruise’s body still lay in its cage, starting to smell, but Fisk didn’t mind. He wanted the others to stay … mindful.
‘Moon’s turn, I think. Always following, like some sick puppy. Not too tough, eh? Probably die first time around. Let’s see.’ He inserted the prod. Moon backed to the wall and cowered in the shadows. ‘Can’t escape destiny, son. Take it from me.’
Moon screamed, but didn’t die. Frustrated, Fisk went back upstairs. He masturbated on the sofa, remembering Bruise’s death and coming quickly. Something was wrong. He felt incomplete, dissatisfied. The excitement of torturing Moon seemed pale compared to killing Bruise.
‘I’ll have to kill them, then. You finish torture with murder, right?’ He rose and made his way back to the porch. ‘That’s what that Vichy bastard tried on me. Him and his Arab buddies. Should never have changed their minds. Should never have surrendered when the Yanks showed. Should’ve done me, so I wouldn’t be standing here, remembering, keeping the memories alive.’
People don’t have to know how I cried. How I begged him. Fuck that. ‘The Legion can go to hell. So can the hippies and that’s guaranteed. Vietnam’s done them in, sure as I’m standing here.’ The boys got to die. Moon, then Rat, then Gold. They got to cry and beg for it. I’m sorry, my love, it’s what I was all along. It’s what I came back as. No soul. No heart. How was I supposed to love, Dorry? I loved my friends over there. And they all died. I tried loving you, and you died. I loved Bruise, too. It’s not give and take. Never was. Just take. Stop reminding me. I remember how it was.
The sun took the chill from him. The field wasn’t black any more. Bright green weeds covered it.
‘Summer’s begun. Hallelujah.’
V
Going together. I’m not sure what I’d imagined that to be like. From what I’d seen of Debbie’s various boyfriends, it had seemed to me mostly made up of tense negotiations, endless misunderstandings and phone calls that lasted hours where hardly anything was said. Every now and then something else happened, a kind of secret language, and with its locked gazes and small smiles it was a language of hidden awareness, as if an invisible tether linked Debbie with her boyfriend of the moment. Of course, with her lately, she was cutting them loose almost every week, and from what I’d overheard hiding by the stairs when she was on the phone, the most repeated phrase of her life was I’m sorry but I just don’t feel that way any more, so can’t we just be friends, now?
Going together. For Debbie it was a temporary, momentary state punctuated by going s
omewhere else.
It wasn’t like that at all with Jennifer. The past week I’d seen more of her than I had of my friends. There were things we talked about, and things we didn’t. For the most part we necked, and with that, my world changed. Small things, mostly. Like, I’d never before considered blue jeans to be an object of frustration; and I’d never known how a person could close his eyes and disappear inside a girl’s mouth, not like a cartoon, but in the way the senses closed in and left everything else behind.
I lay on the bed in my room, the window open to the morning’s warm breeze. Somewhere way off a dog barked endlessly, and someone worked a rotor tiller in a garden. The model bomber hanging from the light fixture rocked and swung in wobbling arcs. Downstairs, Mother vacuumed the living room. For the first time, my private thoughts actually contained private things. Not private in the way the secret of the body was, but things all my own – this new way of looking at my own body, and at the bodies of women. I’d even caught myself casting a measuring eye at Mother, trying to see her the way Father would. She’d been standing in the kitchen, lighting one cigarette from another while Father dismantled the lawnmower in the garage. My glance had been short-lived; a wave of horror swept through me as soon as I realised what I’d been thinking.
Better to hide in my room, and in doing this – hiding in my room – I suddenly understood Debbie’s touchiness when it came to her own room. Now, my closed door meant something more than it ever had before. It had come to be the first physical barrier between me and everything else.
My hours at home this last week had passed almost unnoticed. My chores had seemed effortless. Debbie had played her records for me and I’d smiled and nodded, looking hard at her when she wouldn’t notice. She was in summer school because of her grades and was now being followed around by a new herd of boys, all drooling and thick as planks to boot. I think even she was dismayed by how dumb some of them were.
In the driveway, the machine slowly disintegrated as piece by piece it was taken apart. The machine had come from a factory, I’d finally concluded, and had once driven conveyor belts or a press. Now only its innermost bones remained, smeared with grease to keep the rust away. My father took the bigger parts with him to the gas station, where they sat in buckets of gasoline for days before he got around to cleaning them and bringing them back. The parts filled the workbenches in the garage.
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