Teacher's Pet

by Andrew Neiderman

  He moved cautiously through the empty house, feeling like a Peeping Tom. He sensed that if a woman found out that someone unknown to her had been in her house, moving through her personal space, it would be as though she had been caught naked. He especially experienced this feeling when he entered Sandy’s room, even though she knew he’d be there.

  Her room was dainty and soft. There were stuffed animals of all sizes and kinds displayed everywhere—on shelves, on the bed by the pillows, on the floor against the wall, and on the dressers and vanity table. The curtains over her windows were so sheer they looked like shaped smoke. He thought if he moved too roughly or too quickly, he would shatter something. Heavy footsteps might jar the little glass figures on the entertainment center shelves or shake the rock posters loose and send then floating over the bed and furniture.

  He inhaled what he had come to know as Sandy’s scent—her cologne and shampoo. She had a definite presence in this room; there was something of her in it at all times. He saw a picture of her on the night table. She was probably only ten or eleven years old at the time, but her budding good looks were clearly visible. In another picture, taken a year or so later, she was standing in the front of the house with her real mother, whom he thought was a pretty good looker herself.

  He went to the walk-in closet and opened the folding doors. He didn’t know whether it was unnatural or not, but confronting her clothing with her not present once again made him feel as though he were doing something erotic. Moving in and close to the garments, he couldn’t help but think of her body. It was as though just touching the bodice of a dress was the same as touching her breasts.

  When he heard voices below, he closed the folding doors behind him and squatted. He could see through the ribbed doors. After a few moments, Sandy entered with Slattery beside her. Johnny hated everything about him, especially the neat and formal way he dressed for school. Who else but Slattery wore a pressed pair of dress pants, a white shirt, and a tie every day? His dark brown hair was always short and prim like a cadet’s. He even walked with a military posture and looked down his nose at the rest of them as though he was an officer and they were all privates. There was a nasality to his voice that suggested arrogance. It annoyed Johnny just to have Slattery in his presence.

  Sandy went right to her bed and flopped on her side. She rested her head against her propped hand and laughed, obviously about something she had said before they had entered her room. Johnny had the feeling she had been teasing him all the way back to her house.

  “Jesus,” Slattery said, “what are you, in the stuffed animal business?”

  “Just gifts and things. Don’t you collect anything?”

  “Old coins. There’s a value to that,” he said, but not sarcastically.

  Johnny never liked the tone of Richard Slattery’s voice. He always sounded too much like an adult. He resented his note of self-confidence. He didn’t think anyone was supposed to be so sure of himself at such a young age. It was a tone of voice that belonged with a man like Mr. Lucy, not with a kid like Richard Slattery.

  “So,” Sandy said, patting the place on the bed before her, “why do you resent Gary, Johnny, and Sheila so much?”

  “I don’t see how you can be friends with such zeros,” he said, lying down on his side, too.

  “They’re doin’ pretty well for zeros.”

  “Erratic. There’s no stability to them. Besides, they’re not doing it on their own. It’s like cheating.”

  “You mean using the tutor?”

  “Of course. You know what I think, and you don’t have to tell me if I’m right if you don’t want, but I think this tutor has files on all the tests. He’ll get their averages up somewhat, but he won’t get them an education. You know what I mean?”

  “I think so.”

  “Mr. Zola felt the same way.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah. We talked about it right before…right before he got framed.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t really believe he got framed, do you?”

  “I know they’re your friends.”

  “We hang out together because we all use the tutor, but I’m not going to really call them my friends. I thought you understood that.”

  “I understand,” he said, but still sounded somewhat suspicious.

  Sandy laughed and turned over on her back. Johnny could see Slattery leer at her and at the way her breasts lifted before him. She started to play with the front of his hair.

  “There’s certainly nothing romantic between me and Gary Rosen or Johnny Masterson,” she said.

  “I was hoping that wasn’t so.”

  “Give me some credit, will you.”

  “You guys seemed so close.”

  “Things aren’t always what they seem,” she said. She ran her fingers down the side of his face and touched his neck.

  “You’re about the prettiest girl in school,” he said. “It would have been a real waste if you were…”

  “Forget them for a while, will ya. Anyway, they’re queers, right?”

  “No they’re not,” he said, the anger evident.

  “How do you know for sure?”

  “I’ll tell you, but you can’t say anything to them.”

  “I don’t talk to them about things like this.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. She could see he was deciding on something so she turned into him and lifted her lips toward his. Johnny was surprised at how calculating she could be. He was also very jealous of Slattery’s closeness. The kiss was quick, but too sensuous, he thought. Did she have to be so convincing?

  “We’ve got to get to know each other a little better,” she said. “You’ve got to be my hero and rescue me from the zeros.” She laughed teasingly. He smiled and leaned over her when she went back to resting her head against the pillow. “So how do you know they’re not homos?”

  “Mr. Zola told me.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “I went to his apartment the next day. He called me on the phone. When I got there, he told me what happened. So I know the truth. He trusted me.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.” He was quiet for a moment, his determination evident. “So you’re going to stop seeing that tutor?”

  “Oh yeah. The only reason I went was because of this deal I had with my father. It’s off now, so I’ll be quitting soon.”

  “Good. I hate to see you influenced by those zeros.”

  “How do I know you’re such a good influence, Richie?” she asked. She pushed her finger into his chest and he laughed. Then he leaned over to kiss her. Johnny saw that she let him run his hand over her breast. He started to kiss her neck and bring his leg over hers.

  “Wait,” she said, and sat up quickly.

  “What is it?”

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I was supposed to meet my stepmother at Dede’s Boutique at three-thirty. She’s got an outfit picked out for me.”

  “So, tell her you forgot.”

  “I did forget, I’d better get my ass over there.”

  “Just call her.”

  “You don’t understand. My father thinks I’m deliberately avoiding doing things with her. This won’t help. Come on,” she said, “I’ve got to rush over.”

  Disappointed, Slattery rose off the bed to follow her out of the room. Johnny sat back in the closet and shook his head. She was great, he thought. What a manipulator. He heard them go down the stairs and out the front door, Slattery protesting all the way.

  The house was quiet again. He waited a few more moments, just to be sure, and then stepped out of the closet. He wondered how long it would take her to get rid of him and come back. However long it took, he would wait. He went to her bed and lay down where she had been, putting his head against her pillow. He thought about Slattery touching her and he felt a mixture of anger and envy.

  Then he thought
about the things Sandy had gotten him to admit. He couldn’t wait to bring the information back to Mr. Lucy. He made up his mind right then and there that he would go before the others and talk to Mr. Lucy alone. No matter what they thought, the others didn’t have the same relationship. Mr. Lucy might not want to say certain things in front of them. He’d be happy I came by myself first, Johnny thought. He’d even expect it.

  It was a good twenty minutes before Sandy returned.

  “He nearly followed me to the boutique,” she explained. “Finally, I had to stop walking and promise to meet him again tomorrow after school. He doesn’t give up easily, does he?”

  “That’s what worries me,” he said. She saw the rage in his face. He was flushed and that now familiar fire brightened his blue eyes.

  “You heard it all?”

  “And saw it all,” he said. He was still on her bed, sitting up against the pillow. She smiled and shrugged.

  “You think he was telling the truth about Zola?”

  “I don’t have any doubts,” Johnny said. He looked thoughtful.

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “Mr. Lucy will decide that.” He paused and they looked at each other for a long moment. She came to the bed slowly and sat down beside him. “I didn’t like you kissing that creep.”

  “I didn’t like it either. I just imagined I was kissing you,” she said, seeing he was skeptical.

  “Really?” She nodded. He leaned forward and took her by the shoulders gently. It was a long kiss but once again, she surprised him with her aggressiveness. She pushed her tongue into his mouth before he could even think of pushing his into hers.

  “I bet you’ve had a few boyfriends,” he said. He couldn’t help the critical note. She just looked at him for a moment and then looked down.

  “My parents were always very open about sex,” she said. He thought she sounded sad about it. “They never locked doors. My mother believed in awareness. Everyone walked around nude in front of everyone else. I don’t think I was more than five years old when my mother explained to me how babies are born. To tell you the truth, I think she got some kind of a kick doing it.”

  Johnny listened in awe. His father had never even had a man-to-man discussion with him about sex. It was expected he would learn all about it in sex education, and when it came to his parents being open about their own relations, they acted as though they were both still virgins. It occurred to him that the way Sandy was brought up and the way he was brought up were so different that it was like they were from different countries.

  “Is Paula like that, too?”

  “Oh yeah. She’s always talking to me about sex. I think my father assigned her the responsibility to be sure I don’t get pregnant before I’m supposed to.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Am I?” She got up and went to the night table to open the drawer. “See this,” she said, holding up the small box. “Birth control pills. Paula got me the prescription.”

  “You take them?”

  “Regularly. I’m not stupid.” She smiled and he just stared at her. “So you don’t have to worry either,” she said. She put the box back in the drawer and began to unbutton her blouse.

  “You sure no one’s coming home now?” he said, looking at the partially open door.

  “What if they do? They understand,” she said, and she laughed.

  There was no question in his mind that he wanted her. She was pretty and desirable and he had fantasized about her often. He had grown especially excited watching her with Slattery, but her matter-of-fact or “enlightened” attitude about it was something of a turn-off. There were a few steps to this moment missing.

  He didn’t know how to express it or even if it were important to do so, but he felt that she was using sex to get back at her parents, probably mostly her father, in some way. He wondered how many boys she had done this with for the same reason. He felt as though he were being used, as though it really didn’t matter if it were he or not.

  She had her blouse off. That portion of her bosom that bulged above her bra was pink, flushed from her excitement. He didn’t move; he didn’t change expression. She brought her hands behind her back to unfasten the bra and then hesitated.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “So why don’t you get undressed?” He didn’t say anything. She brought her hands to her sides. “You didn’t hesitate when you and Gary pulled that bit on your sister and Mary Warren, did you?”

  “I’m not hesitating.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t know. I feel almost as if we’re not concentrating on the plan, or something,” he said. “You know, like we came here to do one thing for Mr. Lucy and we’re doin’ another.”

  “Huh?” She looked at him for a moment. “Listen,” she said, “Mr. Lucy is no prude. He knows about these things. He expects us to do it.”

  “How do you know that?” She didn’t say anything for a moment. “You talked about it with him?”

  “Of course.”

  “But how could you? I mean…”

  “He’s very understanding. He wanted to know about my past and my family life, as I told him things. You know what he said?” Johnny shook his head, but he was anxious to hear. “He said people overestimate sex. He said sex is just a trick of nature to bring people together. He said if we just treat it as something natural, we wouldn’t have all this guilt.” She smiled and added, “He said too many people worship the orgasm.”

  “He said all that?”

  “Uh huh. So don’t feel so guilty.”

  “I never talked to him about sex,” Johnny said. “Except that stuff involving my sister.”

  “So it worked out, didn’t it? She doesn’t bother you.”

  “No, she wouldn’t dare.”

  “Good. Now you can talk to Mr. Lucy about your own problems. But first,” she said, reaching back and unfastening the bra, “you’d better have something to talk about.” She slipped the garment down her arms and dropped it on the floor. He stared with obvious appreciation, but he didn’t say anything.

  He got off the bed quickly and began taking off his clothes. She unbuckled her jeans and slipped them and her panties off. Then she pulled back the blanket and got into the bed.

  When he slipped in beside her and they embraced, he thought about what she had said: Mr. Lucy expected them to do it. She wouldn’t say it if he didn’t, he thought. She wouldn’t lie when it came to Mr. Lucy.

  Just the fact that Mr. Lucy expected it made it more important to him. He pressed to be more aggressive than she was; he had to live up to Mr. Lucy’s expectations for him. Afterward he wouldn’t have to say anything. Mr. Lucy would know. He would look at them and he would know.

  Johnny understood that there was no part of their lives in which their tutor didn’t play a role, but he didn’t resent it; he welcomed it. Mr Lucy was a father, a brother, and a friend. They would carry his stamp of approval openly.

  As Johnny made love to Sandy, he looked over at the chair in the corner near the bed and imagined Mr. Lucy sitting there and smiling.

  “These are my kids,” he would say. “They’re good at anything they do.”

  12

  Ellen Lorner could stand it no longer. During the past few weeks, her personality had undergone a gradual but radical change. She had grown so impatient and so short with her friends that they had begun to consciously avoid her. This was especially true of Toby, who had been brought to tears a few times because of Ellen’s nasty and cutting comments.

  Her friends assumed that there was bad trouble developing between Barton and her. Ellen’s newly abrasive ways confirmed their quiet suspicions—Barton and she had grown further and further apart because there was nothing to keep the marriage glued together, no common interests, no children, and no burning passion. She was merely taking out her frustrations and unhappiness on them.

  It wasn’t really the cause, but the truth was that Ellen’s
frustrations had invaded her relationship with Barton. He tried to outwait it and ignore what he thought might just be some stage she was passing through. Each morning he looked for a return to the way things were—some sign of her characteristic energy and optimism.

  But she didn’t improve. She was unusually withdrawn and pensive, and whenever he would ask her why, she would explode with the same frighteningly violent anger. Simple questions brought her to a pitch of hysteria. He took to tiptoeing around her and to fighting back his curiosity as to why she stopped doing her exercise, why she was letting the house go, why she wasn’t seeing her friends anywhere as much as she used to, why her appetite had dwindled, and why she sat for what seemed to be hours staring through the television set or rereading the same page in her latest book.

  It occurred to him that Ellen was approaching a nervous breakdown and he began to believe it would be only a short time before she would need professional help. She would either go on her own or he would force her. He discussed it with Morris Feldman, one of his closer, lifelong friends, and ironically that conversation resulted in the first seemingly positive change in Ellen’s new but degenerating personality.

  “Maybe she has to get a job,” Morris suggested.

  “She never wanted that before.”

  “I know, but these are different times. Her friends might be putting subtle pressure on her. Maybe she thinks badly of herself because of it. Did you ever tell her she couldn’t work?”

  “No way. She just seemed so occupied with the house and her own activities, I never thought…”

  “Well…suggest it. See what happens.”

  He did, and it was as if he had awoken her from some deep sleep. She looked up from the book she had been staring into and a light came into her eyes.

  Ever since she had made love with Adam Lucy, she had been suffering from a mixture of guilt and disappointment. She had given herself to a man who had apparently taken it very lightly. It was as though he had brought her down from purity and innocence just for the sake of it and left her there.

  And yet she couldn’t turn herself away from him completely. She longed for a second intimate meeting, if for nothing else but to understand who he was and what had actually happened between them.