Private Pleasures

by Lawrence Sanders

  "My God, he said, "that's right. And I never made the connection.

  What does it mean, doc?"

  "it means you're Tommy Termite," I said, laughing.

  "Searching for romance."

  He looked at me thoughtfully. "You know," he said, "you may be on target. I'm writing a fucking autobiography."

  "Only it's not about your life," I reminded him. Itit's about the way you want to live-a projected autobiography.

  I was still taking it lightly, but Chas wasn't. I could see he was shaken.

  "I was going to have them marry," he said slowly. "Tommy Termite and Lucy. if the book was a success, I planned sequels.

  They'd have kid termites, raise a family. it could go on forever.

  Was I dreaming of me?"

  "Only you can answer that, Chas."

  He laughed suddenly. "I could have picked a more impressive insect than a termite to serve as my alter ego- Termites have some "Oh, I don't know," I said. admirable qualities.

  They're determined, they work hard, and they survive despite exterminators. They also happen to have a soldier caste."

  "Crazy," he said, shaking his head. "Chas the termite."

  "May I be Lucy?" I asked him.

  He wheeled his chair over to where I was sitting and took my hand.

  "Do you think that's possible?" he said, looking sternly at me. "No bullshit now. All I'm asking is, do you think it's possible?"

  "Yes," I said, "I think it's possible."

  He set his glass on the floor and reached for me. I put my glass aside and leaned to him. It was a twisted, strained embrace, fumbled and awkward, but we managed. We kissed.

  "Tommy," I said, stroking his cheek.

  "Lucy," he said, and we both giggled.

  I don't know what they call it now, necking, petting, smooching-it all sounds so old-fashioned. But that is what we did, kids in a secret place, exploring while the rain surrounded us and blanked out the world.

  It was sweet, so sweet.

  We stopped, breathless, and stared at each other.

  "Give me time," he said in a voice that was almost a croak.

  "I need time. Please."

  I nodded and smoothed his hair back from his brow. We picked up our glasses and finished our wine without saying another word.

  After a while I rose, gathered up my things, and gave him a farewell peck. I left him slumped in his wheelchair, head bowed.

  I drove home slowly through a downpour that seemed to be worsening. I tried to sort out my feelings, but they were too chaotic for easy classification. It was only after I was safely home, showered, and in bed that I was able to put my thoughts in order and determine what I wanted to do.

  I must have this man, I decided that. With marriage, without marriage, with sex, without sex-none of that seemed important. I just needed him in my life, and I thought he needed me. He had lost his legs and would never regrow them. I had lost-or was in danger of losing-part of myself as well. The loving part. I didn't want that gone. I wanted it to thrive.

  I felt I knew Chas. I recognized his weaknesses and deficiencies as clearly as I did my own. But what of that? Love, if not blind, is uncaring. I mean there are really no requirements or standards, are there?

  These meandering musings before I fell asleep had a curious conclusion.

  They made me question if I analysis of Mabel Barrow and had been correct in my Herman Todd. I had labeled them insubstantial personalities intent only on sexual gratification. Now I wondered if I truly understood them.

  Perhaps, like me, they were simply hopeful searchers, aching to give, eager to have their tender passion requited. just to love and be loved in returnit sounds so simple, doesn't it? So easy.

  So right.

  Then why is it so rare?

  ANA TODD told my mother that I didn't think Chester Barrow was a very practical boy, and she laughed and asked me why I thought so.

  "Because," I said, "his father bought him a fishing cap with a long bill that shades your eyes. But Chet wears it backwards so the bill shades his neck and the sun is always in his eyes."

  "Well," she said, "maybe that's a fad with boys these days.

  I see a lot of them wearing their caps backwards."

  "I think it's silly," I said.

  I didn't tell her the other ways that Chet wasn,t practical, because it was about our running away. For instance, I had to tell him what to take and help him pack. And I was the one who looked up the telephone number of the cab company so we'd have it when we were ready to leave home and go out to my Uncle Chas to get the hundred dollars.

  "Now here's what I think,', I told Chet. "Labor Day is on September seventh. Then school starts on Tuesday, the eighth. So I think we should leave on September second, which is a Wednesday."

  Why on that day?" he asked me.

  I sighed. Sometimes I have to explain things to Chet twice or maybe three times. I know he's smart, but he just doesn't pay attention.

  "We decided we would leave before school started," I said.

  "And September second is just as good a day as any. Also, it's in the middle of the week, so it will be easier getting a cab than if we leave on a Saturday or Sunday. And besides, your mother and father might be home on the weekend, and mine, too. So Wednesday is when we'll leave." i guess," he said.

  "Now you must be all packed on Tuesday night," I said. "And I'll be ready so we can just take off on Wednesday anytime we want. I think we should go around noon, which will give us time to pick up the money from Uncle Chas and start out before it gets dark."

  "Boy," he said, "you sure are bossy."

  "Well, my goodness," I said, "somebody's got to think of these things.

  And I wish you'd wear your cap the right way. You look silly."

  "Do not," he said.

  "Do so,' I said. "But if you want to look silly, I really don't care."

  "Listen," he said, "my folks haven't been so bad lately.

  Maybe we should talk about this some more."

  "You mean you don't want to go? Chet, it was your idea."

  "I know it was," he said like he was mad at me.

  "I'm just saying maybe we should give them like another chance."

  "Chester Barrow, " I said, "if you back out now after all my work, I'll never speak to you again as long as I live.

  "I'm not backing out," he said, getting that look he gets sometimes when he clenches his teeth. "I just mean my mother and father have been nicer to me lately, like I told you. Are your parents still fighting?"

  "Yes, they are," I said, "and if you don't want to leave home, then I'll go by myself."

  "Oh, no," he said, "you can't do that. I'll go, I'll go just like we planned."

  "Promise?"

  "Sure," he said, "I promise."

  I felt sort of guilty because to tell you the truth my parents hadn't been fighting lately like they usually did. My father was still missing dinner and coming home late smelling from alcohol, but it didn't seem to bother my mother anymore, because she didn't yell at him, and she smiled a lot and was always humming. just because I'm a girl going on nine doesn't mean I don't notice things, and I wondered why she was acting so happy.

  We were eating in the kitchen one night late in August, and I said, "I wish Daddy would come home to have dinner with us every night."

  And Mom said, "Oh, I think he will. I think he'll change his ways real soon."

  I wasn't so sure. "Can people change the way they are?" I asked her.

  She said. "People change of course they can," All the time."

  I thought about that awhile. "I think Chet Barrow is changing," I told her.

  "Is he, dear? How is he changing?"

  "I don't know," I said. "But sometimes he says things, and then he goes back on them. I don't like that.

  Suddenly she looked sad. "Men are like that, Tania, she said. "As you get older, you'll learn that they frequently say things, promise things, they don't really mean."

  "Well, tha
t's just lying."

  "Not exactly. Sometimes they'll say things because they want something, or to keep you happy, or because they don't want an argument."

  "And all the time they don't really mean it? I think that's awful."

  "Yes, it is," she agreed with me. "But you'll just have to learn to put up with it."

  Well, she could put up with it if she wanted to, but I wasn't going to.

  So the next time I was alone with Chet I spoke right out.

  "Now listen here, Chester Barrow," I said, "I don't like the way you've been acting."

  He looked at me. "What are you talking about?" he said.

  "Well, sometimes you say things because you want something, or to keep me happy, or because you don't want an argument. And all the time you don't really mean what you're saying."

  "You're nuts," he said. "When did I ever do things like that? "

  "All the time," I said. "Like I can tell that now you don't really want to run away. You're just pretending."

  "Oh my gosh," he said. "I told you I'd leave with you, didn't I? I promised, didn't I?"

  "But you don't really mean it," I said. "I can tell."

  "I do so mean it."

  No, you don't. At the last minute you'll make some excuse not to go."

  "You know," he said, "you can be a real pita.

  "Pita?" I said. "That's like a bread."

  "Yeah, I know," he said. "It also stands for'pain in the ass." And that's what you can be."

  I started crying. "That's the worst thing anyone ever called me in my whole life," I told him, "and I hate you."

  "Well, you called me a liar."

  "Did not. I just said that sometimes you say things you don't really mean. Like running away."

  "But I do mean it " he insisted. "Will you stop crying, for gosh sakes. just because I said maybe we should think about it some more, that don't mean-"

  "Doesn't."

  "That doesn't mean I'm not going to keep my word. When did I ever go back on my word, tell me that."

  "Cross your heart and hope to die that you'll absolutely, positively, run away with me on Wednesday, September second."

  "All right," he said. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

  "Well, that's better," I said, sniffing.

  "You believe me now?"

  "Yes, I believe you."

  We've got some frozen Milky Ways in our fridge, he said. "You want one?"

  "Okay, " I said. Making up after an argument is the best part.

  Hey," Chet said,,what you said about hating me you don't really mean that, do you?"

  "No," I told him. "I just said it because you called me a pita and I was mad, but I didn't really mean it." ,That's good," he said.

  After we ate our frozen Milky Ways, we decided to put on our bathing suits and have a hose fight. So that's what we did. We were playing around, dousing each other, when suddenly Chet stopped and stared out at Hibiscus Drive. I looked and saw a big silver car driving slowly by.

  "There's that guy again," Chet said.

  "What guy?" I asked him.

  "A man who knows my mom and dad. He says he's going to stop by when they're both home and surprise them. it's supposed to be a secret."

  "What's his name?"

  "He didn't say. But he gave me five bucks."

  "That was nice of him," I said., "Yeah," Chet said. "He's an okay guy.

  BOBBYGURK Something going down," Teddy O. says to me.

  "I can smell it."

  "How do you figure that?", I ask him.

  He squints at me through those crazy specs he wears. "The three of them, Brevoort and the two women, are thick as thieves.

  They get together almost every night. Usually at Fiddler's house, but sometimes at Gunther's condo."

  "But never at Willie's place?"

  "I've never spotted them there."

  "Teddy, what do you think they're cooking?"

  "You want me to guess?" he says. "That's all I can do-guess.

  I'd guess they haven't got the ZAP pill yet from the Mcwhortle chemist.

  Otherwise they'd be long gone. Am I right? But they know they're going to get it, maybe soon, and they're figuring how to handle it. If I was them, I'd grab the pill, get out of town, and set up business somewhere else."

  I think about this a long time. "Yeah," I tell him finally, "I do believe you got it. And I can't stand the idea of getting the shaft on this deal. People are such rat finks-you know?"

  "Maybe we should move on them right away," Teddy O. says.

  "Even before they get the pill. Make them tell us the name of the chemist." He takes his ice pick out of the sheath strapped to his shin and waves it at me. "I know how to do it," he says.

  "Sure you do," I says. "And maybe we'll have to do it your way. But if we lean on them to get the chemist's name, then we need to pick up the chemist and lean on him to get the pill. So it gets messy-know what I mean? Maybe someone goes screaming to the cops-and then where are we?

  If it has to be done, then we'll do it. But first let the Gunther dame again. Maybe she'll go missing.

  "I think she's in on the swindle," Teddy O. says.

  "Maybe yes, maybe no, I says. "I'll sure as hell find out."

  So I give Laura a call and tell her I'm stopping by that night.

  "That's nice," she says.

  I shouldn't be telling you this because you might think I'm an airhead, but I had a thing for tazy dame. Like what they call a soft spot in my heart.

  She's a tall, busty broad with a dirty mouth, but what I like about her is that she's always cracking wise and just don't give a damn.

  But, of course, my liking her has got nothing to do with business.

  I barge into her place, and she's wearing these baby-doll pajamas that show a lot of skin and make her look as big as a house. I figure it's smart to knock off a piece before I brace her, because who knows what kind of a mood she'll be in after I lower the boom.

  So after I get up off the floor, she pours us belts of Chivas, and we just sit around bare-ass naked and shoot the bull awhile. Finally I decide to lay it on her.

  "Hey," I says, "I hear you and Willie and a blond twist have become palsy-walsy.

  "Yeah?" she says. "Where did you hear that?"

  "Oh, you know how word gets around. Who's the blonde?"

  "A playmate of Willie's. Her name's Thelma something.

  So right away I know she's lying, because the blonde is Jessica Fiddler, and if Laura is palling around with her she'd know her name.

  "Uh-huh' I says, like I'm not really inarrested. "The three of you having a scene?"

  "Now and then," she says. "You got any objections?

  "Not me," I says. "Live and let live. How about an invite to make it a foursome?"

  "Not your style," she tells me. "Unless you do coke."

  "Oh-ho, I says, not believing her for a minute. "Nose buddies, is that it?"

  "That's it," she says. "Just to relax occasionally. Take our minds off our troubles."

  "We all got 'em," I says. "Some more than others. What do you hear from Willie about the ZAP pill?

  "Not a word. Bobby, you might as well forget that deal.

  Since old man Mcwhortle croaked, all the work at his lab has come to a screeching halt."

  "it don't make sense," I says. "There's a lot of loot to be made from that pill. Funny that they'd just drop it." i She shrugs and pours us a refill. She's really got all the goodies.

  Beefy but not fat, if you know what good skin. Creamy.

  I'd hate to bat er I mean. And around and spoil her complexion, but I could do it if I had to.

  "What's Willie up to these days?" I ask her.

  "How the fuck should I know?" she says. "He doesn't blab about his personal business. I guess he's doing what he did before, peddling information. Why don't you ask him?"

  "I haven't seem him around lately. I thought maybe he's cooking up a big deal. I've done a lot for Willie. I hope he remembers who his friends are.


  "You figure you're a friend of his?"

  "Sure I am."

  She laughs. "Come on, Bobby. You're the guy who was planning to shaft him."

  "That was just business, but personally I like him. I hear he does drag."

  She looks at me. "You hear a lot of things, don't YOU? if Does he or doesn't he?"

  "As far as I know he wears pants."

  "You've made it with him?"

  "That's what you paid me for, isn't it?"

  "Oh, I'm not complaining," I says. "I just wondered if a guy like that can get it up."

  "He's got no problems in that department," she tells me.

  "Trust me, I know."

  "I'd like to trust you, babe," I says. "I really would.

  I'd hate to find out you've been diddling me. Then I'd have to come looking for you. You know?"

  "How could I diddle you? I haven't clamped you for money, have I?"

  "No," I admit, "you haven't. But there are all kinds of swindles.

  Like maybe you and Willie and the blond broad are figuring to glom on to that ZAP pill for yourselves and leave poor Bobby Gurk on the outside looking in."

  She shakes her head. "If we had that fucking pill and were going to cross you, would we still be around? Use your head."

  "Maybe you haven't got the pill yet," I says, "but you know how to get it. Then you'll split. I wouldn't do that if I was you, babe. You know what they say, You can run, but you can't hide."

  "I don't know what you've been smoking lately," she says, "but you've sure got some crazy ideas. Hey, how about an encore on the floor?"

  She wants to change the subject-right?

  "No," I says to her. "You come over here and do me."

  I want to get her down on her knees, because now I know for sure Teddy O. is right and the three of them, Willie and the two women, are figuring to dick me.

  I had given Laura every chance in the world to come clean and let me in on what's going onbut, no, she wants to play it cute.

  So I got no choice but to do it Teddy's way.

  I make a meet with him the next day, and we talk about how we'll do it.

  "I got a lot of "Listen, Teddy," I says to him, guys in my organization, and a couple of them are heavies. So if you need some backup, just say the word."

  "I don't think so," he says, "but thanks for the offer. We don't want a mob scene."