Private Pleasures

by Lawrence Sanders

  But then we heard the phone ring inside our house, and Greg dashed into the kitchen with me right behind him. He grabbed up the phone.

  "Yes," he said. "Yes, this is Gregory Barrow. That's correct. Yes, I understand. Would you repeat the address, please. Thank you. I'll be there as soon as possible."

  He hung up and rushed into the den with me on his heels.

  "How much money do they want?" I asked him.

  "They didn't say."

  I watched him root around under a pile of magazines and dig out a little plastic container. He opened it and shook two white pills into the palm of one hand.

  "What are you doing?" I said.

  He shoved the pills into his mouth and gulped them down without water or anything. Then he shuddered, closed his eyes, and grabbed the edge of his desk. I think he was shaking.

  "This is a hell of a time to be popping aspirin," I yelled at him.

  His eyes opened slowly, and he stared at me.

  What a look that was!

  "Shut your big, fat mouth," he said.

  Well, when those two guys came busting through the door, there was a huge one and a little one with glasses, I thought everything was going to be okay. I mean I figured they would call the police, and I would tell them how I got kidnapped. Then those crooks would go to jail, and the cops would take me home.

  But it didn't work out like that. It looked like they all knew each other. The guy who claimed he was a friend of my dad, his name was Willie, and I think he was lying, I don't think he ever went to school with my father like he told me. He and the pretty lady, her name was Jessica, were the two crooks who snatched me.

  The other two guys who broke the door down were really tough. The huge one was named Bobby,, and the little one was Teddy. I was scared of him because he had this ice pick he held under Willie's chin and made him call my dad and tell him to bring the pills right away if he wanted to see me alive again.

  I don't know what kind of pills they were, but I hoped my father would bring them right away.

  So we sat there waiting, and I decided they were all crooks.

  I was afraid they would kill me and my father, because even if he gave them the pills, I didn't think they'd let us go on account of they'd know we'd call the police and report them. I didn't know what to do, and I felt like crying, but I didn't.

  Bobby made the lady bring him and Teddy some drinks, and she also brought me another Coke.

  "Don't worry, Chet," she said to me. "You're going to be all right.

  You'll go home with your dad."

  "Sure you will, kid," Bobby said.

  But now I didn't believe any of them.

  That Teddy, the one wearing glasses, made me nervous. He never sat down, he just stood holding his ice pick and watching us. If I had a gun, he wouldn't act so mean, believe me. If he tried to stick me, I'd just shoot him.

  "I've got to go to the bathroom," I said.

  "Sure, kid," Bobby said. "And I'll come with you. I wouldn't like you to take a powder."

  I didn't know what he meant by that. But he went with me to the bathroom, which was at the back of the house. Bobby inspected it first, and it didn't have any windows so I guess he figured I couldn't get out and run away. He waited for me to come out, and then we went back to the living room.

  After we had all been sitting a while, no one talking or anything, we heard a car pull up outside. "That must be the guy," Bobby said.

  "Teddy, I'll handle him. You just keep an eye on these two assholes."

  My father came in and looked at all of us. He looked a long time at Willie and Jessica, then turned to stare at Bobby and Teddy. And then he motioned to me. "Go out to the car, Chet," he said quietly. " "We're going home." the "Hey, wait a minute," Bobby said. "You chemist from Mcwhortle Laboratory?"

  Dad nodded.

  "You got the ZAP pills?"

  "Yes, I have them." "Then hand them over and we talk about what comes next." "Come on, Chet," my father said. "We're leaving-" Bobby sighed.

  "Get the pills, Teddy," he said.

  The little man moved close to Dad, holding out his ice pick, waving the tip back and forth.

  "Let's have them," he said.

  Then my father moved so fast I could hardly off Tedsee what happened.

  He jerked the glasses from the face, snapped them in two, dropped them on the floor, and stomped on them hard. I heard the sound of breaking glass.

  Teddy jabbed out blindly at where Dad had been standing, but he wasn't there. He had moved to, Lawrence Sanders the side, caught Teddy's arm, and twisted it up behind his back.

  The ice pick fell on the floor. Dad pulled the arm up higher and the little guy screamed when the bone broke. My father released his arm, and it just dangled.

  Then, quick as lightning, my dad rushed at Bobby and punched him in his fat belly. Bobby went "Ooof!" and kind of doubled over. Dad grabbed up a big brass table lamp and smashed it down on Bobby's skull. He just fell down and my father started kicking him in the head. He kept kicking until Bobby's face was all bloody and his nose was yucky.

  Then he went back to Teddy who was flat on the floor, groaning and holding his broken arm. Dad started jumping up and down on him, his chest and his stomach. Held just leap in the air, come down hard, and then do it again. I think the little guy passed out.

  Then my father stopped and took a deep breath. He looked at Willie and Jessica. While he had been destroying the two guys, they just sat there, really stunned.

  "Chet and I are going home now," my father said sternly.

  "Any objections?,' Willie cleared his throat. "None whatsoever," he said.

  "Let's go, Son."

  We went out to our car together. I took his hand.

  "Dad," I said, "you were awesome."

  After Mabel Barrow left the motel, I stayed for almost an hour, sipping diet root beer and reflecting on what an intimate and nurturing encounter ours had been. I felt that I had, perhaps for the first time in my life, been totally open and honest with another human being. I had shared myself, my inner self, with Mabel, and the experience gave me a glow of happiness.

  I returned to my office, and Goldie told me that my daughter and wife had phoned several times, sounding frantic. I called home immediately and learned that Chester Barrow had been kidnapped and his father had gone to rescue him. In addition, Tania and Chet had been planning to run away. Also, my brother Chas had phoned and wanted me to call him as soon as possible.

  "Courage, dear," I said to Marleen. "I'll come home at once and provide all the support I can."

  By the time I arrived at Rustling Palms Estates, Greg Barrow had returned home with Chester, and that family was reunited and happily bonding with one another. Marleen, Tania, and I gathered in our own kitchen, and I urged Tania to tell us honestly why she had intended to run away.

  She offered many critical comments on my past behavior. I assured her that the censure was warranted, and the blame was completely mine. I promised to abandon my bad habits and begin to conduct myself as a loving father should.

  "That's another thing, Daddy," Tania said. "Sometimes I think you don't love Mother and me. You never say you do."

  After ten minutes of earnest pleading, I believe I convinced both wife and daughter that my love for them was genuine and deep.

  Henceforth it would be verbalized frequently and reflected in my actions. , "Remember," I told them, "we are a world of three, and it is in our power to be supportive of one another. The important thing is to get in touch with our innermost feelings and share them in a homey atmosphere of warm intimacy."

  They eagerly agreed that sharing could revive our family and create the closeness we sought. Then Tania left to learn from Chester Barrow the details of his brief kidnapping. I phoned my brother and related all the events of that afternoon. I also informed him of my resolve to mend my ways and provide the spousing and fathering my dear family deserved.

  "Glad to hear it," Chas said. "So Tania isn't going to run
away?"

  "I think I persuaded her that I am fully aware of her discontent and will do everything in my power to ensure her happiness."

  "Good God Almighty!" Chas said, and hung up.

  My wife had gone upstairs, and after speaking to my brother I followed her. I went first to the guest bedroom where I freshened up, using more of that cologne Marleen had given me to try. Then I knocked on the door of her bedroom.

  "Come on in," she caroled.

  We sat close together on the bed, and I spoke again of our love, the need to share our innermost feelings, the importance of compassionate understanding, sympathetic parenting, and mutual nurturing.

  Marleen lay back on the bed and held her arms out to me.

  "And don't forget quality time!" she cried.

  Jessica phoned me at Hashbeam's Bo-teek, and the moment I heard her voice I knew the whole deal had crashed. Well, what the hell, I knew it was a crapshoot when I got into it.

  Jess told me what happened, talking so fast I could hardly keep up.

  "Laura," she finished, "Willie and I are taking off. As soon as we can.

  Before those two gorillas come to."

  "They're not dead?"

  "Nah. I wish they were, but they'll revive. Both of them are candidates for Intensive Care. But eventually they'll get out, and I don't think we ought to be around when they do."

  "You got that right, Jess," I told her. "If you and Willie are lamming, I think I better skedaddle along with you. How soon can I get my car back?" w. I'm taking my packed "We're leaving right no e things." suitcases. I hate to leave so many nic "Don't worry about them," I said. "They're only things. just worry about saving your ass."

  "Yeah," she said, "you're right. Survival is what it's all about-" it was Wednesday evening before we got everything organized. We met at my place. Willie had his silver Infiniti packed with all his wardrobe, including evening gowns and wigs. Jessica decided to dump her old clunker and drive with me in the Taurus.

  "Drive where?" I asked again. "How about New Orleans?" Jess suggested again. , "Suits me," Willie said. "I got enough cash to keep us going awhile.

  If we have to, we could open a small crib until I can set up an information racket again. Is that okay with you ladies?"

  I didn't like the idea of getting back in the skin trade, but I didn't want to spend the rest of my life at Hashbeam's either@specially with Big Bobby Gurk on the prowl.

  So we all had a final drink before we set out. I had a bottle of champagne in the fridge, left over from my cocktail party, and that's what we had.

  "Here's to a glorious future," Willie said, hoisting his glass in a toast.

  We all drank to that, and then we got in our cars and headed out. I remember that as we drove along that night Jessica and I sang that old song that goes, "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream..

  " Like she said, survival is the name of the game.

  On the drive back home I said to Chet, "I want you to promise me something, Son." And whatever had happened, whatever Mabel had done or hadn't done, he was my son.

  "Sure, Dad," he said. "Whatever you say."

  "When you tell Mother and your friends about your kidnapping, please don't mention anything about the pills. It's a confidential research project I've been working on, and I wouldn't like people to know about it."

  "I won't say a word, I promise."

  "It'll be our secret," I told him. "Just the two of us."

  "Yeah," he said happily. "I can keep a secret."

  Mabel was delighted to see us, of course. She wept, embraced both of us, and wanted to hear the story of Chet's rescue over and over as if she could hardly believe our good fortune.

  "And you didn't have to pay any ransom!" she marveled. k care of "Not a cent," Chet assured her. "Dad too those crooks. He just mopped up the floor with them. You should have seen him. He was Rambo!"

  After dinner-macaroni and cheese-I went into my study and closed the door. I had some heavy thinking to do.

  There were ten ZAP pills remaining, and I hid the container in the bottom drawer of my desk. Their potential frightened me because I realized I had been in a murderous frenzy when I attacked those two men.

  It was only by the grace of God that I refrained from killing them.

  Drugs with that effect, I knew, should not be made available, even on a limited basis for what might be considered patriotic reasons.

  The question was how to end the ZAP Project. If I told Colonel Henry Knacker I had failed, he'd be sure to take the assignment to other research laboratories, and what I had created, I was certain would eventually be duplicated by other chemists. t There was also the problem of what might happen when the two criminals I had assaulted were released from the hospital.

  Surely they would come, looking for me again, and I feared they might devise more vicious and successful methods of obtaining the pills.

  I finally decided that my best course of action was to make the ZAP Project a matter of public knowledge and depend on public outrage to put an end to the development of testosterone additives.

  To accomplish this, I determined to write anonymous letters to The Miami Herald, The New York Times, and The Washington Post, detailing the interest of the U.S. military in producing a "diet enrichment" that would turn our combat soldiers, even temporarily, into conscienceless killers. I was confident that investigative reporters would be assigned to look into my allegations, and I had faith that the resulting outcry by the American people would end the ZAP Project forever. And the publicity would certainly deter the criminals from attempting further mischief.

  I realized, of course, that by writing even anonymous letters to the newspapers, I was breaking the vow of secrecy I had signed, and I could be prosecuted. But I didn't care. Marleen Todd had been correct, A psychoactive drug that flouts the norms of society is simply wrong. It is unethical and immoral to develop it and prescribe it. Humanity comes first.

  There was a soft knock on my study door, and it was opened.

  "I'm going up to bed now, Greg," my wife said.

  "Chet is already asleep. I guess he was worn out, the poor kid."

  "Mabel, we should have spoken to him about why he wanted to run away.

  He's obviously unhappy."

  "Was, maybe, but he isn't now. He said that after what happened today he knows we both love him. I told him we certainly did, but we haven't paid as much attention to him as we should have. I said all that is going to change. From now on we're going to do more things together, as a family. Am I right, Greg?"

  "You're exactly right. And I'll tell him so myself tomorrow.

  "Are you coming up soon?"

  "In a few minutes, after I lock up."

  "Hurry, honey," she said.

  I went through my nightly routine, locking doors and windows, turning off lights. Then I went upstairs. Mabel was waiting for me, naked in bed.

  Later she said, "Darling, I've never had so much fun in my life!"

  I said, "I haven't finished yet. We've got all night."

  "oh lordy, lordy, lordy!" she said joyfully.

  "You know, Cherry," Chas said to me, "if I didn't know better, I'd say my brother was stoned. He wasn't drunk, but he was talking like a goof.

  After he told me the kids had decided not to run away, he started blathering about parenting, sharing his innermost feelings, and nurturing his wife and daughter. You think the idiot has finally flipped his wig?"

  "I doubt that," I said, laughing. "I think he's suddenly discovered some basic truths and is trying to, express them in the gobbledygook that passes for the language of sociology these days. I don't know where he picked up the jargon, but if he really means what he says, it doesn't make much difference how he expresses it. The important thing is that he seems to have become a paterfamilias again."

  "Yeah," Chas said. "Let's hope it lasts."

  The problem of the runaways having-been solved, we relaxed for the first time that afternoon. There was beer in the fridg
e, and we each had one, drinking from the can because it seemed the lazy, carefree way of doing things now that the crisis had passed.

  "Now about us," Chas said, and stopped.

  "Yes?" I prompted him. "What about us?"

  He took a deep breath. "How about this? Let's get married.

  " I stared at him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  He nodded.

  "When did you decide?"

  "It's been growing," he said. "Germinating. I finally knew I'd have to go off the high board, or it would be the end of me.

  A purely selfish decision. Half a decision. The other half is yours."

  "You know the answer to that," I said. "Yes, yes, and yes."

  "Wait a minute," he said. "There's something that has to come first.

  You game?"

  "Yes," I said, "I'm game."

  "Don't help me. I can do this myself."

  He wheeled himself over to the bed and set the chair's brake.

  He braced his massive arms, lifted himself up and swung onto the coverlet.

  "Over the top, lads," he said. "Follow me, men. Do you bastards want to live forever?"

  He began to undress with nervous fingers. I took off my clothes and lay down beside him. He looked at me with a tender smile. He stroked my naked body.

  "It all looks so good," he said. "I'll have a few slices of white meat, please. And the drumsticks, of course," he added.

  "Do you think we'll live happily ever after?" I asked him.

  "Like Tommy the Termite?"

  "Hell, no!" he said. "We'll fight, we'll claw, we'll scream, we'll send each other right up the wall. Occasionally. We're human, aren't we? But I think we'll make it. Don't you?"

  "Oh, yes," I said, reaching for him. "We'll make it."

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