The Fall of Chance

by McGowan, Terry

  In one thing only, they were the same. The dance was fast; relentless in its escalating optimism. By its end, all the other dancers were red-faced, blown and spent. But Unt and Crystal were living on another plain and he felt the dance as little as she did.

  The band crashed out with a final, triumphant flurry. The dancers stopped, the lights went up and Unt and Crystal faced each other in a partners’ embrace. The time had come, the spell had ended and reality resumed.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Jaro’s heavy breath crunched his voice into the microphone. He mopped his sweaty brow and his costume was falling raggedly apart. In the light, Unt saw that the hall’s décor looked exhausted too. Here and there, the torn and beleaguered remnants of the sheets and bunting hung limply on the floor.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen!” Jaro tried again, “What a way to go out! Give yourselves a round of applause. That’s a rare spin you’ve given us and you’ve topped our night off in fine fashion. As for topping your own nights off, well, you’ll have to arrange that yourselves. You’ve been a pleasure to entertain and I hope you’ve enjoyed our humble efforts.

  “May Fate go with you all this evening. We’ve been the Odds Men, you’ve just been excellent, thank you and goodnight!”

  That was the end of everything. Those words cut them off from etiquette’s guiding hand and left them to their own devices. A few moments’ hesitation rolled over the halted revellers like a moist, sweaty cloud and then the whole crowd crumbled apart.

  Pairs of youngsters gravitated together or else made their way over to their families for final farewells. It wasn’t exactly a dissolution. Unt was reminded of when he poured cooking fat down the drain; the way its smooth, liquid properties quickly vanished with the heat and what was left were globules of sticky whiteness. The illusion was gone and the underlying reality remained.

  He and Crystal were the last to move. It was as though one of them needed to speak before they could do so but neither knew what to say. No, they knew what they had to say; they just didn’t want to say it. An onlooker might have thought they were too hung-up on love to notice that the party had ended.

  There were, however, two onlookers who were under no such illusions. Crystal’s parents were waiting to say goodbye. They had the appearance of having been cut from their anchor and now they drifted uncertainly in Unt and Crystal’s direction.

  Landress was smiling but there were tears in her eyes. Ulson seemed to have swallowed his own down his long neck and they swelled in his throat as though choking him.

  “Oh, my darling, we’re so proud of you,” Landress said to Crystal. Odd words; not exactly sensible, but there was no denying the sentiment when she flung her arms around her daughter. As she pressed herself against Crystal, her tears were impressed on to her child’s face. Crystal had no tears of her own but there were now hot, wet circles on her cheeks.

  With Crystal’s gentle persuasion, she finally let go, allowing Ulson to step in. His passion was wrought into awkwardness. He leaned in stiffly, like there was no bend in his spine, and pulled her in from the shoulder-blades. He held her rigidly close. “You’re the finest girl we ever could have had,” he said, simply.

  As they stepped back from Crystal they had to acknowledge Unt. All four of them would probably have been happier were it not the case but nevertheless, it had to be done.

  “Unt, darling,” Landress took his hand in hers, “Look after her, won’t you?”

  “I will,” he said and she hugged him, not passionately, like with Crystal, but in a kind of thanks.

  Now Ulson stepped forward. He looked like he wanted to say something - maybe many things. Maybe he had fatherly advice, a warning, a plea or some random nugget of wisdom, but in the end, he said nothing. He just shook Unt’s hand and then stood there.

  Both couples hovered. No-one knew how to take their leave. Ultimately, it was Landress who acted first. “You two had better be going,” she said. “Your father and I will stay and see if we can help with the clean-up.”

  “Ok,” said Crystal, “Goodnight, Mother. Goodnight, Father.”

  “Goodnight,” Unt added, nodding to them both.

  The hall hadn’t quite emptied but there was no movement around the exit. Unt and Crystal walked unobstructed across the floor and out into the crisp spring air.

  The open door projected a yellow rectangle of light into the street and as they stepped out into it, Unt took Crystal’s hand. She didn’t react but a movement of shadow in their patch of light made them both turn around.

  Crystal’s parents were stood silhouetted against the light of the hall. Ulson had his arm over his wife’s shoulder. Unt and Crystal kept on walking.

  They crept along in silence until they were past Fortune Square and onto the home stretch. On the way, they passed other couples. Some were just walking, others were kissing and some were chasing one another in and out the alleys. Everyone was caught up in their own excitement.

  After the square, they turned down West Street and Unt felt the familiar squelch of perennial mud. Crystal slowed and he realised that for a girl in fancy clothes, mud was more than just an inconvenience. She didn’t complain, though: it might have been nice if she had.

  He realised that this was a strange place for her and her new house would be just as strange. He decided he would have to warm her up to it and try to lead her into a home, not some cold destination.

  He wondered if he should put his arm around her but that was stupid: they were still holding hands. There was no way he could pull out of that gentle intimacy and swap it for one that was more intrusive.

  “You live at the end of this street?” It was Crystal who broke the silence.

  “Last house, top of the ridge,” he confirmed. He hoped the suggestion of a view would please her. “Have you spent much time in this part of town?”

  “No,” she answered. They walked on some more. “I suppose I’ll be spending a lot more now.”

  It wasn’t a ringing endorsement but it was a seed of conversation. Taking heart, Unt tried to encourage her. “What did you think of the party?”

  “It was lovely.”

  Lovely. There were certain words that took on a different character depending on the sex of the speaker. “Lovely” was such a word. To a man, it always belonged in relation to a girl and it was a genteel way of admiring her looks. To a woman, it was a way of dressing up an object of extreme indifference.

  It was a word that stalled their fledgling conversation until they reached Unt’s house.

  Years of familiarity had made him forget how dark it got at the edge of town and Crystal had to cling close as he guided her to the porch. He opened the door to a deep, black house, roused a gas lamp from its day-long slumber and gave Crystal her first look at her new home.

  “Here we are,” he said needlessly.

  She looked slowly over the broad living area. “Nice,” she said. That was better than “lovely”, Unt supposed.

  “Should I show you around?” he offered.

  “Please.”

  So he gave her the tour, such as it was. He lit the lamps around the room as they went and as they stood underneath them, each one lit up Crystal like a new and glorious revelation. As she looked into each room and absorbed its details, he looked her over and drank in every bit of her.

  He deliberately set the lamps to a low burn, hoping the ambience would affect her mood. It certainly affected her appearance. The mellow glow caressed her figure as though the house had picked up on Unt’s emotions. The silky material that hugged her figure played with the light like liquid, the way a trickling stream pulls, pushes and twists sunlight in enticing patterns.

  Each chance to look her over was too short-lived: about the time it took to look over a small room. He gulped her up like a thirsty man. Pearson had told him that women looked long and hard at every space, that the nesting instinct was strong in them, but he didn’t get that from Crystal.

  She was taking her time to look but she didn’t
seem to be thinking about what ornament would go where. It was more like a tool of delay. As long as they were doing this, they were in a safe place. When it ended, there’d be nowhere else to hide.

  Unt plotted her a deliberate and - he hoped - subtle course. Spare bedroom; kitchen area; bathroom: all the non-threatening spaces he put up front. There was only one space at the end: his room.

  All around the house, she’d stepped into each room to look it over. When she reached the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway like it was a cliff edge.

  The full moon was spilling through the open windows, its clean beams picking up the bed like a natural spotlight. “And this is our room,” he concluded, feeling like he was pointing out her place of execution.

  Crystal didn’t move or say anything. The moment dragged. “What now?” she asked. It was almost a plea.

  How could he answer that? “Are you thirsty?” he tried. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” she replied. More silence.

  “Are you tired then?” It was a clumsy try.

  “Not really,” she answered, “A little, I suppose.”

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, “I’m not used to this. I’ve been on my own so long I’m not sure what to do with someone else around.”

  Where that came from, he didn’t know. Maybe he’d thought it would bring him some sympathy. Whatever the intent, it was clumsily played and it only deepened their mutual discomfort.

  The heavy movement of the walnut clock’s hour hand made them both jump.

  “One o’ clock,” said Unt. “It doesn’t seem a minute ago the party ended.”

  “No.”

  “I suppose it is pretty late.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I might just go to bed.” There it was. He’d sort of forced things to a head. If Crystal didn’t follow, what was she going to do, stay up alone in a strange house? They both knew they’d have to face it sooner or later.

  “Ok.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked, deliberately leaving her with a choice to make.

  “No, I’ll come too.” It was the concession of defeat. Unt felt a guilty thrill that he’d penetrated her defences. His heart and body both felt a skip of excitement but his deeper conscience threw shame at his feet.

  He leaned in and with the closeness of his body, he gently shepherded her into the room. She stopped at the corner of the bed. “What side...” she let the question hang.

  It took Unt off-guard. He’d never thought of that before. “I don’t know,” he said, “I fall asleep anywhere but I tend to wake up on the window side. I guess I sleep there, then, but take whichever side you like.”

  “No, this is fine,” she murmured. As she walked slowly up the side of the bed, her hand drifted over the sheets.

  Unt left her to her thoughts for a moment and went over to close the curtains. He left the shutters open, thinking they’d need the moonlight to see. As he stood there with his back to Crystal, he steeled himself and began to undress.

  He didn’t know what to do with himself. Should he strip entirely before he got in or was it better to wait until he was under the covers and then take off his underwear?

  He wasn’t ashamed of his body. He had no illusions of being the perfect physical specimen but he measured up all right. What worried him was that now he had a girl in his bed and the time was at hand, his body was reacting the way it was supposed to. He didn’t fancy crossing the room with that sticking out in front of him.

  He got as far as unbuttoning his shirt and laying it over a chair. When he turned around, Crystal was already under the sheets. Only her head and the tips of her fingers were visible and those fingers gripped the covers like a protective shield.

  As he stepped closer, he saw a slither of yellow on the bed’s far side. She’d shed her shoes and dress quickly and left them on the floor, eager to get under the sanctuary of the sheets.

  She was watching the ceiling, not him and he quickly dropped his trousers and slipped into bed. He still had his underwear on but figured he’d deal with that in a moment.

  It was odd, the sensation of another person in there. It felt like the bed wasn’t his own. Having clothes on in bed was a strange sensation too. He was an alien in his own habitat.

  Normally, at this point, he’d wrap himself in his sheets and get comfortable but now that wasn’t allowed. Instead, he found himself mirroring Crystal: back to the mattress, eyes skyward, stiff as a board. They lay there for long minutes.

  At last, he turned to her and spoke in a near-whisper, “Look, about what we’re supposed to do…”

  “Yes,” she said dully.

  “We don’t have to, you know. I, er, mean there are plenty of others who won’t be up to it,” the words tumbled out. “I mean, we needn’t do it tonight, if you don’t want to.”

  She turned her head and her eyes bore into his. Such lovely eyes. They were filled with quiet determination, like she’d tapped a resolve deep inside her. “It’s ok,” she said. “If we’re able to, we ought to do our duty.”

  Ok, thought Unt, what now? She’d given him permission but she wasn’t exactly welcoming. She wasn’t moving either. She was leaving instigating things to him. Great.

  Nervously, he moved his arm toward her. He felt her stiffen like it was a deadly creature moving under the sheets. He tried to glide his arm, smooth and reassuring, but his heart was pumping adrenaline through him and he felt awkward as an industrial machine.

  Then his hand touched flesh and it set off a ripple of explosions through his body. It was the greatest exhilaration he’d felt in his life. Her skin was as smooth as the finest fabric, just asking for his hand to slide along it. His brain was in paralysis but his hand moved of its own volition. The magical touch of her body had given it a life of its own.

  It slipped over her hip, gliding snugly around its contours, curling down the flatness of her back, skating along the surface.

  He stopped at the bottom of her spine, feeling like a thief who’d stolen into a palace and was surprised to have not been caught. His arm was at the extent of his reach. He needed to close the gap between them and she wasn’t going to help him. He would have to make the move but first he’d have to lose his underwear. How he was supposed do that without looking obvious, he didn’t know.

  His fingers drew circles on her back as he mulled it over. He hoped it was tender but she didn’t relax any. Finally, he realised he wasn’t going to get anywhere without shedding the last of his clothes and there was no subtle way to do that.

  Reluctantly, he recalled his hand and wriggled out of his underwear. He could feel the elastic curling them up as he rolled them over his legs. It felt oddly childish, especially in contrast to the way his body was behaving.

  It was a natural bodily function and obviously essential to the act but no-one had ever seen him like this. It was embarrassing: so much so that his mind refused to put it into basic words. It refused to accept what was happening and he found himself thinking in polite euphemisms, as though he was talking aloud.

  It sprang out across the bed at her: the tip rested against her leg. It felt like a crude finger pointing across the bed and saying, “I want to fuck you.”

  He was ashamed by his body, ashamed how it betrayed his feelings and at the same time, he was fearful about how it was about to be judged. Surely women had an idea of what they expected from a man? Did he measure up? Did he have to worry how he compared to Rob?

  No, he mustn’t think of that now. He had to focus on what was good in this. Everything was functioning properly: that was the main thing. Despite all the pressure and the day-long drinking, it was all working like it should. That was the greatest barrier overcome. With that worry out the way, he could focus on winning her around.

  Pearson had assured him it was all very simple: take care of her before taking care of yourself. That, he said, was all there was to love-making. Make her happy and it was nicer for
her, nicer for you, nicer for everyone. Simple.

  Ok, thought Unt, let’s give it a try.

  Pearson had been very expressive about what Unt should do and the way he told it, it all sounded easy but Unt was planning a journey off a description of a map he’d never seen.

  He took his hand from her back and dropped it between her knees. He started to slide it up between her thighs, edging toward its target. But her legs were unyielding. She might have said “yes”, but her body was responding like she’d said “no”. Her legs weren’t exactly clamped together but they weren’t making things easy. His fingers were trapped in a warm pocket where they couldn’t move and they couldn’t part the barrier unless he put some blatant strength into it.

  As they faced this impasse, this silent, unacknowledged battle, he began to think of his other arm, trapped under his body and going numb. He shifted his weight to release it and reached up the pillow to touch her hair.

  It was indescribably smooth, almost weightless. He wanted to bury his face in it. Instead, he curled it round his finger, traced it over her cheek, describing the curve of her features with the back of his finger.

  Her lips were peppered with the sparkle of moonlight and he moved his mouth in to kiss her. Her lips parted to let him but it was just a doorway held open out of politeness. The passion was all his but he pressed into her as though a kiss could transfer some of that lust into her.

  At last, he was rewarded when he felt her give something back. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He tried a little pressure with his right hand and managed to move his fingers an inch. With his left hand, he teased her hair behind her jaw, down the length of her neck and over the ripple of her collar bone.

  He knew where he was leading her. She had to know it too. He tried to disguise it, to go slower, but he couldn’t stop himself from racing on. He stroked his finger over the curve of her breast and cupped it. It sat neatly in the palm of his hand like an apple. He felt himself getting more excited, his tip digging into her belly in earnest.

  She stopped being an active part in the kissing but she didn’t turn away. It felt like she was waiting to see where he would take them.