Night in the Lonesome October

by Richard Laymon

  A few times, she flinched when I touched bad places on her back and buttocks.

  Soon, I was down on the bottom of the tub with Eileen straddling me, clutching my shoulders, her breasts wobbling and lurching as I drove up into her. Sometimes, the hot spray of the shower was blocked by her body. Other times, it got me full in the face.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Standing outside the tub while I gently dried Eileen, I found that she did have a few cuts on her back and buttocks. They looked red and raw, but were no longer bleeding.

  I put antiseptic and bandages on them.

  Then she asked if I had a hair drier.

  ‘Afraid not.’

  ‘That’s all right.’ She held out her hands for the towel.

  I gave it to her, then watched while she rubbed her hair vigorously with it, her arms high, her breasts shaking. Her breasts had marks on them. Not from me, but from what the others had done to her under the bridge.

  What had they done to her?

  ‘I’ll be a few more minutes in here,’ Eileen said. ‘You want to run ahead and make the drinks?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘How about rum and Coke for me?’

  ‘Coming right up.’ I put on my robe and headed for the door.

  ‘On the rocks,’ she added.

  I glanced over my shoulder at her. She looked wonderful standing there with her arms up, smiling at me from under the bunched towel.

  ‘You can leave the door open,’ she said. ‘Let the steam clear out.’

  Nodding, I turned away and went into the kitchen. I made the drinks. Then I carried them into the living room and returned to the kitchen for the Ritz crackers and squirt cheese.

  When I came out, Eileen was standing in the living room. Her hair, still moist but neatly brushed, hung down to her bare shoulders. The pink towel was wrapped around her waist, one end tucked in at her hip.

  ‘Wow,’ I said.

  ‘But a little nippy,’ she said. ‘Got anything for me to wear?’

  ‘Oh. Sure. I’m sony.’

  ‘No problem.’

  I hurried past her and she followed me down the hall to my bedroom. I took a cotton nightshirt out of a dresser drawer. Holding it up for her to see, I asked, ‘How’s this?’

  It was red and had Goofy on it.

  Eileen frowned slightly. ‘Was this Holly’s?’

  ‘It’s mine.’

  ‘I bet she wore it, though.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Holly had worn it a lot. The nightshirt had looked great on her, short and clingy.

  ‘I can get you something else,’ I said.

  Shaking her head, she stepped forward and took it from me. ‘No, this is fine.’ She plucked the towel away from her body, tossed it onto my bed, then put the nightshirt on over her head. The thin cotton drifted down her body. It was shorter on her than on Holly.

  She raised her arms to sweep her hair out from under the nightshirt’s neck, and the hem lifted higher than her groin. When she lowered her arms, it descended.

  Smiling, she asked. ‘Do I look okay?’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘It’s a little short.’

  ‘I don’t mind if you don’t.’

  She grinned. ‘I’m ready for a drink. How about you?’

  ‘Sure am.’

  This time, she led the way. I walked to the living room behind her, my eyes on the smooth curves of her buttocks as they flexed under the clinging nightshirt.

  We sat down beside each other on the sofa.

  I picked up both drinks and handed one to her. She raised her glass toward me. ‘To being safe and clean and together,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  We drank.

  ‘Mmmm, good,’ Eileen said. ‘You make a mean rum and Coke.’

  I laughed. ‘It’s not totally disgusting.’

  After a few more sips, Eileen set down her glass and picked up the Ritz crackers. ‘Let’s dig in.’

  While she opened the box of crackers, I peeled the seal off a canister of squirt cheese.

  ‘Can’t believe how hungry I am,’ she said.

  ‘We had an active night.’

  ‘I’ll say. My God. Here, give me.’

  I popped the lid off and passed the canister to her. Upending it, she squirted a small pile of orange cheese onto a cracker in her hand.

  ‘Open wide,’ she said. I opened my mouth and she stuffed the cracker in. I chewed. The cracker crunched. The cheddar was creamy and tangy and I could taste the bacon flavor.

  Eileen prepared a cracker for herself. She ate it while I drank more of my rum and Coke. As she chewed, she closed her eyes. She looked as if she were relishing a rare delight. After swallowing, she sighed. ‘Fantastic.’

  ‘Pretty darn good.’

  Squirting cheese onto another cracker, she said, ‘I can’t believe how hungry I am.’

  ‘You go ahead and eat that one.’

  ‘No, you.’ She pushed it into my mouth, then took another drink and started preparing another cracker. ‘It might have something to do with all that sex,’ she said.

  I nodded and chewed.

  ‘But I bet it makes people hungry when they have close calls. All that adrenalin. Do you know any physiology?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘Me neither. But I’ve been in some earthquakes and I always feel hungry afterward.’ A smile spread across her face. ‘Horny, too.’ She popped a cheese-loaded cracker into her mouth.

  ‘You think we’re so hungry because we got attacked?’

  Chewing with her mouth shut, she nodded.

  Though I felt the heat of a blush spread over my skin, I asked, ‘And horny?’

  She nodded some more.

  ‘Those bums piling on you made you horny?’

  Frowning slightly, she shook her head. She swallowed and took a long drink. ‘Not that. Surviving. Escaping. Getting away in one piece. That’s what does it.’

  ‘I thought you meant getting attacked.’

  ‘God, no. You must be kidding.’ She suddenly went silent and stared at me, looking appalled. ‘You think I liked having those guys on me?’

  ‘Not really, but...’

  ‘They were vile. They stank. They were all over me, slobbering on me, groping me, hurting me. They were naked. I could feel their cocks. They were trying to rape me. And you think I liked it?’

  Now or never.

  ‘They didn’t rape you, did they?’ I asked.

  She looked as if I’d slapped her. She gaped at me, her mouth drooping.

  ‘I mean, if they did, you might need ...’

  ‘They didn’t.’ Her voice was low and steady, her eyes locked on mine.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I think I would know.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You don’t believe me?’

  I didn’t want to tell her about the bum I’d found when I went back for her purse and clothes.

  ‘I believe you,’ I said, trying to sound convincing. ‘It’s just that ... they were on you for a couple of minutes ...’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘I got to you as fast as I could, but they might’ve had time ... maybe one or two of them ...’

  ‘Well, they didn’t.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She looked shocked and sad. ‘I can’t believe you even felt it necessary to ask.’

  ‘But if they did—’

  ‘If they did, do you think for one second I would’ve invited you into the bathroom to fuck me? Do you think I would endanger your life that way?’

  ‘No.’ I sounded like a guilty kid on the verge of tears.

  ‘You’re damn right I wouldn’t!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Not half as sorry as I am. I can’t believe you, Eddie. My God!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  I reached out for her.

  ‘Don’t!’ she blurted and scooted away from me, her glass and the squirt cheese in her hands, the bo
x of Ritz crackers resting on her lap. The Ritz box tumbled off. Crackers spilled out on the cushion between us.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’

  ‘But you did. You did.’ Leaning forward, she slammed her glass and the squirt cheese onto the table. Then she got to her feet. ‘I’ll be going now.’

  ‘No, wait You can’t...’

  ‘Just watch.’

  She hurried around the end of the coffee table, but I leaped to my feet and intercepted her. 1 grabbed her by both upper arms.

  Instead of struggling to free herself, she stood motionless and stared me in the eyes. In a steady voice, she said, ‘Let go.’

  ‘I only asked because I care about you.’

  ‘You think I’d keep something like that from you? You think I’d let you touch me if any of those filthy pigs had ...’

  ‘No. No, I don’t.’

  ‘The hell you don’t. You must think I’m a real prize. Just ’cause I put out for you a couple of times, you’ve got me mistaken for some sorta hot-to-trot piece of ass like Holly who’d rather have a hot cock in her pussy than ...’

  She cut off her words and stared at me. Her mouth hung open. Her eyes glimmered with tears.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.

  Though stunned, I shook my head as if what she’d said about Holly didn’t matter.

  And it didn’t matter nearly as much as what I needed to tell her. ‘When I went back under the bridge to get your stuff, I found a body. One of the guys who attacked you.’

  She gaped at me.

  ‘What do you mean, “a body”? Like a dead body?’

  ‘Or unconscious. I don’t know. But he ... he looked as if he’d ... you know, been in someone.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It was wet.’

  ‘Didn’t get that way from me.’

  ‘Or from me,’ I said.

  She gave me a sad little smirk. Then she stepped against me. It was a good, familiar feel. Arms around me, she lowered her face into the curve on the side of my neck. I could feel the wetness of her tears.

  Softly, she said, ‘So you thought this guy had nailed me, but you went ahead and put yours in me anyway?’

  ‘Well...’

  ‘What kind of idiot are you?’

  ‘An optimistic idiot?’

  She laughed, her body shaking against me. Then she settled down. We held each other for a long time in silence.

  Later, Eileen rubbed her face dry on the shoulder of my robe. She sniffed and looked at me. ‘This guy under the bridge?’ she said. ‘Are you the one who put him out of commission?’

  ‘Probably. When they were on top of you like that, I went sort of nuts with my rock. If he’s dead, I’m probably the one who killed him.’

  ‘Oh, boy,’ she said. ‘What’ll we do?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Just pretend it didn’t happen?’

  I shook my head. ‘We don’t have to pretend anything. We just accept that somebody got hurt when we defended ourselves.’

  ‘Got what he deserved,’ Eileen said.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘But what about the police?’

  ‘Want to report it?’ I asked.

  ‘No!’

  ‘Didn’t think so.’

  ‘But we don’t want them coming after us, either. What if we left something behind?’

  Her shirt and panties.

  ‘I don’t think we did,’ I said. ‘I searched around pretty good when I went back.’

  ‘I’m still missing a couple of things.’

  ‘I know. But they weren’t there.’

  She stared me in the eyes and said, ‘I think we’d better go back.’

  That was not what I wanted to hear.

  ‘It was pitch-black under there,’ she said.

  ‘I used your matches.’

  ‘We’ve got to go back with a good flashlight.’

  ‘Now?’

  The sooner the better. Before someone reports the body. In fact, what we really should do is get rid of it. Make it go away.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘If nothing else,’ she said, ‘we both bled down there. If the cops do any kind of real homicide investigation, they’ll pick up samples of our blood. And your semen.’

  I was feeling worse by the word.

  ‘We probably left footprints, too,’ she said. ‘God knows what else. Like maybe your fingerprints on the murder weapon.’

  ‘It was a rock.’

  ‘Any smooth surfaces?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Anyway, maybe the guy isn’t even dead.’

  ‘But if he is, he’s down there in a crime scene jammed with evidence against us.’

  Chapter Twenty-six

  For the next hour or so, we talked about what to do. We ate more cheese and crackers and drank more rum and Coke. Though I made the drinks light, I felt a little high by the time we were done talking.

  In my bedroom, we got dressed. I had enough clean clothes for both of us. Eileen wore her own shoes, but brown corduroy trousers that belonged to me, and the same dark blue sweatshirt that I’d worn during my adventures the night before. I dressed myself in a chamois shirt, jeans and the Reeboks.

  I decided to leave my wallet behind, but I pocketed my Swiss Army knife. As I took my five-inch Maglite off the night stand, Eileen said, ‘Too bad you didn’t have that with you.’

  ‘Didn’t know we’d be going under a bridge.’

  ‘Is this the best flashlight you’ve got?’

  ‘The only one I’ve got. It’s pretty good, though.’

  I found a dark blue knit cap for Eileen, a Yankee ballcap for myself.

  ‘What about gloves?’ Eileen asked.

  ‘Ball mitts?’ Like I said, I’d had a few.

  ‘Like rubber gloves or something. Dishwashing gloves?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Glove gloves?’ she asked.

  I shrugged.

  ‘What do you do in winter?’

  ‘Put my hands in my pockets.’

  ‘Ah. Then that’s it, I guess.’ With that, she pulled her hat on.

  We went to the door. Before opening it, I turned to her. ‘We sure we wanta do this?’

  ‘I think we have to.’ She looked very cute in the stocking cap, her hair stuffed inside it so that she looked boyish. She had a pale crumb of Ritz cracker at the left comer of her mouth, adhering to the down above her lip. With a fingertip, I brushed it away.

  She leaned forward and gave me a kiss that was brief but soft and warm.

  ‘Let’s get it over with,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be late for my ten o’clock.’

  ‘I hope that’s a joke.’

  ‘No joke.’

  ‘Whatever we’re gonna do,’ I said, ‘we’d better have it done before sunrise.’

  ‘Oh, I know that.’ She opened the door.

  We had the hallway to ourselves. On the way downstairs, I worried about encountering the Fishers. We found their door shut, however, and hurried past it and got out of the building without being seen.

  We had already decided on a route ... one that would keep us at least a block from campus until the very end.

  We walked quickly.

  A cool breeze was blowing. It had the strange, moist smell that only comes ‘in the dead waste and middle of the night.’

  I’d been out on the streets last night at this hour, and later. In trouble even then, but in more trouble now.

  What the hell’s happened to my life? I wondered.

  The answer was easy.

  Holly.

  Holly had broken my heart. She was why I’d started my night wandering. She was why Eileen had come into my life, and Eileen had drawn in Randy and led me down into the darkness under the bridge where the trolls got us ... and I got one of them.

  Thanks a lot, Holly.

  But maybe it’s more Eileen’s fault than Holly’s.

  Eileen’s only in this because
Holly dumped me.

  Maybe I ought to be thanking Holly for bringing Eileen into my life.

  Maybe not.

  One thing’s for sure, I thought; Holly deserves credit for the mystery girl. I never would’ve seen her if Holly hadn’t smashed my world.

  I wonder where she is?

  Probably a few miles to the north.

  Strolling down a sidewalk? Sneaking into a house? Maybe keeping her rendezvous with the tequila drinking woman I’d watched in the kitchen?

  What if Randy gets his hands on her?

  It’s Eileen he wants.

  Too bad, asshole, the trolls beat you to the punch.

  No, they only tried.

  Where’s Randy now? I wondered.

  Right behind us.

  Wouldn’t that be terrific?

  I had an urge to look over my shoulder, but fought it off. For one thing, Eileen would question me about it. For another, what if he’s actually back there?

  As I walked along beside Eileen, I felt more and more certain that someone was following us.

  I dared not look back.

  Words from a poem crept into my mind:

  ‘Like one, that on a lonesome road

  Doth walk in fear and dread,

  And having once turned round walks on,

  And turns no more his head;

  Because he knows, a frightful fiend

  Doth close behind him tread.’

  How apt! I thought.

  Wordsworth? No, I’d never read much Wordsworth till this semester. Poe? I didn’t think so. I’d memorized several of Poe’s poems, but this didn’t seem to be from any of them.

  Coleridge!

  Almost for sure. It felt like Coleridge. I knew only three Coleridge poems by heart, ‘Christabel,’ ‘Kubla Khan,’ and ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.’ This definitely wasn’t ‘Kubla Khan.’

  I gave Eileen’s hand a squeeze. She looked at me, and I recited the verse.

  ‘Thanks for creeping me out,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘It just popped into my head.’

  ‘Can’t imagine why.’

  ‘Does it ring a bell?’

  ‘“It is an ancient Mariner, and he stoppeth one of three.”’

  ‘Ah! Okay. Thanks. I thought it might be “Christabel.” ’

  ‘“Mariner.”’