by J A Scooter
She was worried about him.
Peter’s eyes burnt and he knew he was exhausted, but there still remained something he had to do. ‘I am a lone wolf and I haven’t even bared my teeth. The lonely little motel at Kelso, the little village just short of Bathurst, will be small enough for what I plan.’
Midnight had passed when flashing blue lights and the brief whine of a siren interrupted his thoughts. Police! His foot had responded to the urgency in his mind.
The silence as the engine died and the lack of movement as Peter halted behind the police car woke Susie.
“What’s happened?” She rubbed her eyes. “I must have dozed off. Are we there?”
“No. Go back to sleep.”
Peter patted her leg to reassure her, but she quickly brushed his hand aside. His anger flared briefly and then settled.
‘You’ll keep, Susie, you’ll keep,’ he recited in his mind at the same time as he spoke. “We have police trouble. I was speeding.”
Peter’s words were unnecessary. She was asleep.
“In a bit of a hurry eh, driver?” Before the officer could demand that Peter produce his driver’s license his partner called him back to the pursuit car.
Peter waited.
The officer returned to climb up and speak through the driver’s window.
“You're lucky. There’s a truck broken down towards Bathurst and it’s a traffic hazard. Help clear the road and we’ll forget you thought you were flying a Boeing.”
Grinning, he paused to study Peter quizzically.
“Okay,” replied Peter. “It’ll be my pleasure. Lead the way - or would you like a tow?” Peter’s chuckle split the night air.
“The speed you travel?” The young officer pushed his cap back from his forehead. “No thanks. You follow - slowly.” He was laughing as he joined his mate.
It took only a few minutes to reach the other truck, its trailer laden with cattle that stared, stomped and bellowed their anger at the men’s efforts to hitch the trailer to Peter’s truck. Then, with the other prime mover removed from the roadway and the trailer hitched, Peter climbed back into the cabin, but not before noticing that the other truck was bearing the same logo as the one he was delivering.
“Susie, get into the bed.” He shook her awake. “We have a passenger.”
His plans had come to naught.
“Sorry, mate. I didn’t know you had the missus with you.” The other driver looked sheepish.
Susie must have been too sleepy to ask any questions. She just crawled into the sleeper cab and stretched out as the driver clawed his way up into the cabin.
“It’s good of you. I was lucky you came along with no load. The cattle are due at the yards this morning.” Obviously, he was a local.
Believing Peter was another driver, he chatted freely about the traffic, the price of fuel and the police radar traps while Peter mentally tried to make plans.
Knowing that the Bathurst police who had organized him into pulling the cattle would know this driver, Peter had no worry about seeking his help. Besides, he was driving for the same company as Peter.
“I’ve done you a favor.” Peter had to get this right. “Mate, perhaps you can do me one.”
Easily, Peter slipped into his patois. “The missus is beat. She insisted on coming - just would not listen to me. Thought I was getting a bit on the side. I told her it’d be too much - her expecting the first 'un an all.”
All the time he prayed that Susie was asleep and didn’t hear.
“D'ya reckon you could pick me up at Kelso tomorrow morning early? We’ll be spending the night there. The missus can rest and we can go on.”
“That’s not a favor, cobber.” The stranger was pleased to assist. “The rig’ll be parked waiting for ya - cleaned up an' all. Things’ll suit me fine. I’ll drive to the yards, unload - there’ll be stockmen on hand - and be back before daylight. I live in Kelso and besides, I work for the company that is taking delivery of this truck. The one I was driving is to be pensioned off.”
Peter pulled to the side of the road outside the motel and helped Susie down from the cab.
“What are you doing?” She clambered down. Half asleep, she allowed him to lead her into a motel room as the roar of their loaded rig receded in the distance.
“I'm putting you to bed.”
Still she didn’t suspect Peter’s motives as he began to strip her. “Put your hands up.”
Obediently she stood still while he tugged her dress over her head.
“That’s enough!” She began to struggle as Peter attempted to continue. “That is enough! Stop! Peter, stop! No more!”
“Don’t be silly.” Peter struggled with her hands, grabbing a handful of hair, tugging it to turn her face up to his. He kissed her cruelly, biting into her mouth.
Valiantly she fought his advances.
“Stop it, Peter, stop it. What the hell’s wrong with you? I don’t want you to do this.”
Peter cut her short as she felt him ripping the remainder of her clothing from her body. He picked her up and carried her bodily to the bathroom and under the shower where, despite her sobbing and struggles, he washed her thoroughly before drying them both.
Then he tossed her onto the bed.
“Are you going to rape me?” Distressed, she dragged Peter’s head up from where he was cruelly sucking her nipples.
“Rape went out with long red underwear. You know it and I know it.” Peter knew he was sounding cruel. The lone wolf was howling to the moon.
She sagged, defeated. “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t like being hurt.”
Suddenly feeling very tired, Peter released her and turned to his trousers hanging behind the door. From deep in a pocket he dragged out a tablet - one of those he had come to rely on to get though the trips to Bathurst. He tossed it to the back of his throat and swallowed.
As he turned back to the bed, a change seemed to come over him. To Susie he was staring sightlessly at the blank wall in front of him. To Peter it was different. Almost in a daze, a shadowy memory - his mother - seemed to crystallize before him.
“No, Peter, no! You're not like the monster who captured us, forcing me to share his bed and to accept his incessant cruelty.” The vision of his mother, whose eyes seemed so sad, faded.
With a long drawn out howl of, “Noooooo,” the lone wolf stormed out of the room into the freezing night air to slink off into the darkness.
He didn’t regret what he had begun. He had enjoyed battering down Susie’s defenses right up until when his 'mother' appeared to bring a breath of sanity back into his life.
The lights of oncoming cars made Peter dive for the shadows. He wanted no intrusion into his blackness. Suddenly there came a long blast of an air horn and the headlights of a truck approaching from behind bathed him in light.
A rough voice shouting through the passenger’s window broke through the night. “Where’re ya headin’, mate?”
Peter coughed, trying to clear his mind.
“Bathurst. Bloody truck expired.”
“Hop in.”
The few miles passed in silence - the driver too tired to converse, Peter too immersed in his hatred and anger. Let off on a street corner, he wandered the streets of Bathurst, not thinking, not caring. He just walked aimlessly until he found himself walking past the showground and back to Kelso. Once again, he was at the motel. It was morning.
Seeing the damned truck, that he had driven from Sydney, clean and parked patiently waiting for him, he could only just nod his head. That driver was reliable, no doubt about it.
Not daring to knock, he inserted the key in the motel door then stood leaning there, motionless. The pills on which he had so long relied had outlived their usefulness and his body had finally rebelled.
Wakened by the peculiar sounds at the door, Susie opened it to find Peter leaning against the wall. Slowly, and with a great deal of effort, she dragged the almost comatose Peter into the room. None too gently she stripped him
and pushed him under the shower, appalled at the criss-cross of scars across his back and buttocks.
“Peter, Peter, wake up!” Susie was getting desperate. “What the hell’s going on? Wake up before I call the police and the ambulance. You’re on some kind of drug and I’ve completely lost patience with you.”
Savagely she punched him in the ribs. Ignoring his moans, she continued her fierce assault until his eyes opened and he was able to lean against the wall without her assistance.
“Get yourself cleaned up and dressed. Then, when we’ve eaten, I want an explanation of these!” Opening her hands, she revealed six tablets she had retrieved from his pockets. Silently, she put them into her bag and sat with it on the bed as Peter found his clothes once more. “And while you are at it explain your back.”
Dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed, the tray of food untouched before him. Unable to look at Susie, he was beaten, his shoulders hunched, a picture of abject despair he stared at the floor.
Susie looked intently at him, unable to believe this was the Peter she knew. Wordlessly she lifted his chin and was horrified to see the hurt, the anguish and the distress in his eyes.
At last Peter spoke. “I’m so sorry, Susie.” His words trailed off but then he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t get a seat on a plane back to Sydney today. I’ll take you to the railway and get you a seat on the express.”
Still he couldn’t look at her.
Without any further exchange of words, the air frosty between them, they left the motel and he drove the truck into the transport yard, coming to a halt outside the office.
“Ah, Peter.” The manger came bounding down the steps. “I heard you had a busy night.”
Leaning against the bull bar and ignoring Susie, he continued.
“You’ve been busy, eh, but nevertheless you’ve delivered the truck here as promised. Ten trucks in how many days and not one delivered late. You and your company are a marvel and there’s a lot more work coming your way.”
Then the topic changed. “What have you planned for the weekend?”
The manager didn’t notice the bleakness in Peter’s eyes or the slow drawl of his reply.
“Nothing, bloody nothing.” Peter had to admit to himself that he might as well tell the truth. The rest of his life would be blank.
Listlessly Peter reiterated, “Absolutely nothing.”
Susie shot him a piercing look, her attention gained by the despair and resignation in his voice.
“Could you help us?” The manager ignored Peter’s misery.
‘Oh, no, not another mate job. I'm no-one’s mate,’ was the answer Peter wanted to give, but he was silent.
“There’s a rig to be driven to Sydney for delivery Tuesday and we have no driver. We’ve tried everywhere. Seems everyone has the flu. Don’t suppose you could help. There’d be a few bucks in it for you,” the manager continued, hoping Peter could help.
Peter just nodded his acceptance. What else was there to do? No one was waiting for him anywhere. Again, he was alone, although he had to admit Susie seemed to care.
Susie didn’t speak until they arrived at the railway station. Sensing a strangeness come over Peter once more, suddenly she stopped. Clutching her little bag to her chest, she turned and watched, realizing it would take some time before the last of the effects of the drugs left him.
Once again, something weird was taking hold of Peter who now seemed to be staring at Susie as if mesmerized. He was hallucinating once again.
He could see beside her, standing there in the light streaming through the waiting room door, two figures - his parents. They were frowning at him, their gaze steady and stern.
His eyes closed as he tried to shake his mind free of the two apparitions and he felt his mind retreating into itself once more, unable to cope in its drugged state. A most wonderful floating feeling came over him, bringing with it an almost euphoric feeling of security.
“What’s wrong?”
He could hear Susie’s strangely distant voice and could hear the sounds of slapping. He began to feel the pain of slaps on his cheek that forced him to open his eyes and blink in the strong sunlight. The slaps got harder until they stung.
“That hurt.” Peter at last realized what Susie was doing.
“You’re a fool. You fainted, that’s all.” Susie clasped his arm tightly. “What’s wrong? Surely, I deserve an explanation. Any moment now I’ll forget I’m a lady,” she flushed with quick anger, “although you didn’t see fit to treat me like one.”
Peter sagged against the wall and she grabbed his shoulders, trying to get him on his feet.
“Peter, whatever’s the matter?”
“I haven’t been to bed,” he explained before correcting himself. “No, I haven’t been to sleep for four – or maybe five days. It was just a long day followed by an even longer night and the day was horrible, a real bitch of a day. Now it’s going to be an even longer night.”
She remembered he’d agreed to take the load back to Sydney.
“But I’ll be all right. I’ve been given these to keep awake.” Peter produced the bottle of tablets the yard boss had given him. “I’ll take them to help.”
Brooking no argument, Susie reacted with speed and finality as she snatched them from his grasp. “You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’ll have those.” She was so angry she was shouting.
“These young people - domestic arguments!” The waiting passengers were critical.
“But your train?” Valiantly Peter tried to resist but his body was rubber.
“Damn my train,” Susie replied angrily. Hailing a taxi, she pushed Peter into the back seat and demanded that the driver take them back to the motel. It took the efforts of both the driver and Susie to get Peter back into the room and on the bed.
His body was demanding a rest.
Hours later his eyes slowly opened. The moon shone through the window lighting up the room as he struggled to rise.
“So the hero is awake.” Susie fluttered into view. “Do you feel fit enough to take me to dinner? I'm starving.” She began to snigger as Peter threw the bedclothes back and stood up. “No. Not like that. You’re far from decent.”
Her eyes sparkled merrily as she studied his naked body.
“Not so fearsome now are we? Where’s your manhood gone. You’re only a little boy in a man’s body.” She laughed stridently as Peter, trying to cover his family jewels with his hands, fled to the bathroom.
“And, yes, your back. I demand some explanations. At least, you owe me that.”
Considerably refreshed, they eventually began talking while eating.
“Now you’ve slept and we're eating, perhaps you can tell me what yesterday was all about,” Susie continued her nagging.
Peter was learning more about her, but in his opinion, her nagging was a common trait of women.
“Forget it.” Peter was becoming stubborn. He was not going to answer. “Let’s go for a walk around the shops. I’ll collect the truck and take the load to Sydney.”
“There’s no truck. Not tonight.”
Susie pulled on his arm until she forced him to face her. Hands on hips and feet spaced wide apart, she glared at him. “You can sleep tonight and possibly drive tomorrow. Do you think because I’m a woman I’m here for you to tumble into bed whenever you get the urge?” She was bitter. “Do you believe I can’t think? Peter, you’re even more stupid than you were last night.”
The knives were out. She really made him writhe as each blade plunged deep.
“You men make me sick. Honestly I thought you were different but, my God, how mistaken was I.” She was furious.
“Ssh, Susie.” Her voice had become a strident shriek. “People are listening.”
“Hell, why should I care? Don’t you want them to recognize you as a ‘would-be’ rapist - a rapist who would do it - if he had anything to use in a rape. You are a poor, silly excuse for a man. I suppose you want the world to think of you as a
kind, well-mannered gentleman instead of a stupid little boy.” Her words sank to a hoarse whisper.
Back in the motel room, she pushed Peter onto the bed then dragged a chair closer to the bed. As he reached out to touch her, she recoiled as if he were loathsome.
“If you touch me, I’ll go.” Then she softened a little. “God knows what would happen to you, but I’ll go. I seriously doubt your ability to look after yourself. You’re just a little boy, lost. Now tell me what’s wrong. What’s been eating you?”
Peter stared at her, his mouth set into a hard line and his thoughts locked on his problem as he wondered what was wrong with him. ‘Women, that’s what is wrong.’
He decided to say nothing, no matter how much she stared at him and insulted him. He would say nothing.
With no answer forthcoming, thoroughly exasperated Susie gathered up her things and left. She’d tried so hard to break through his reserve without success. She’d had enough of Peter O’Brien!
Lying back on the bed he allowed his thoughts to wander. ‘I can’t stand all that questioning and anger - just like my childhood – questions, anger and pain. If it hadn’t been for that phone call everything would be so good.’
A sob welled up from deep in his chest. He lay back on the bed and allowed his thoughts to wander unchecked. ‘If only Jennifer would give me a chance.’ He clutched a pillow and weeping bitterly, enjoyed the luxury of not holding back. For the first time in his life, he howled his bitterness into a pillow.
“Peter!” A light touch on his shoulder and a soft voice told him he was not alone.
“For Christ’s sake, leave me alone!” He punched the pillow in his bitter anger, burying his face, trying to conceal the tears. “Get out. Leave me alone. Oh, for God’s sake, leave me alone.”
The bed creaked gently as Susie sat.
Peter didn’t struggle as she cradled his head and cuddled him like the mother he could barely remember. “Ssh, ssh, ssh.” Trying to break through the sobbing she patted him gently.
“Please go. Isn’t it enough that I am crying? What else do you want?” He shrieked maliciously, “Blood?”