'What?"
"Why don't you let go of my arm now?"
Cooper looked down at her arm as if seeing it for the first time, as if puzzled to find it clasped in his hand. He studied it for a moment.
"Did you want to let it go, hon?" Mayvis asked.
Cooper released her and she pulled her arm back slowly, as calmly as she could.
"Wasn't you going to wash up now, Coop?"
"Huh?"
"Remember, you said you was going to go into the washroom in there and clean up so we could take a ride together. With you driving. And here, sugar, you can give them the application form, too. All done up good so you'll get that job again."
"Okay," Cooper said. He got out of the car, and Mayvis breathed deeply in relief, but then he reached back in and took the keys from the ignition.
She watched him walk across the parking lot, the keys dangling from his massive hand. Her instinct was to run, to abandon the car, give it up, and run to safety, wherever that might be. There was no denying her fear, she had been flat scared there for a minute, and if a man made you feel like that, then get the hell away from him.
Then reason took over. First of all, nothing had happened, she told herself. She had handled him, controlled him very easily, as a matter of fact, once she realized the situation. He was stupid, not dangerous.
Secondly, she wasn't about to give up her car. For what? It wasn't the first time a man had held on to her too long. She trusted him a whole lot more where she could see and control him than she did driving her car around alone. If nothing else, he was apt to get lost. Was she so scared that she was going to give a man a possession worth thousands of dollars and just walk away? Nothing could scare her that much. The idea of calling the police came to her and was dismissed in a second. She knew how the police would treat her. With her reputation, they would assume the worst, always. It was like a hooker calling rape. Who would believe her? And about what? He held my wrist?
I was scared? What's a cop going to do for me? Haven't you already fucked this man, Mayvis? they would ask.
Now he can't touch your arm? It wouldn't be any better reporting a stolen car to them, either. It would just be giving them an opportunity for all the dirty-minded comments they could come up with. It would be even worse back home in Hazard. She had slept with two of the cops on the force there, and three others were mad at her that hadn't done her, too. She could just see herself call the cops.
Cooper returned to the car and they drove off. The front of his face had been splashed with water, but Mayvis could still see the dust on his neck and his ears. His wrists were speckled like a dirt patch after a brief shower.
"I'm going fast," he said when they hit the highway.
"Well, slow down," she said.
He turned to face her, looking away from the road entirely.
"Come on," he said. "I'm going fast."
When Mayvis didn't move he grabbed her hair and yanked her face into his lap. She got the idea then.
Cooper howled and pulled the car off the road onto an access path not much wider than the car. Pine boughs whipped at the windshield, and dust rose up behind them in a reddish-brown cloud.:'Now put your foot here," Cooper said.
"What?"
"Put your foot here and play with yourself like before," he said. He grabbed her leg and dropped it into his lap. "Put your hand in your shirt," he said.
"Coop, let's just give it a rest for a minute, okay?"
"Put your hand in your shirt," he said, reaching for her arm. He slapped her hand against her breast to remind her of what to do. "Like last time," he said.
"It doesn't have to be just like last time," she said.
"Let's be spontaneous."
"Do it like last time," Cooper said.
He pulled the car off the path and onto a ridge of weeds and scrub brush.
She put her hand under her blouse, moving slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on his.
"Now, listen, honey, I think you forgot something about last time that was different."
"No," he said.
"Yes, you did. Don't you remember what was different last time?… I told you what to do last time. Remember?
That way you didn't have to think about it, you just got all the fun."
"Then we got out," Cooper said as if he didn't hear her. Grabbing the foot that rested in his crotch, Cooper got out of the car and dragged Mayvis across the seat and stood her up. "In there," he said, pointing to the woods.
He held her by the arm and walked into the woods.
Mayvis told herself to stay calm. All she had to do was try to repeat the sequence of their last time together and everything would be all right. Nothing was going to happen to her that hadn't happened before.
In a wider opening among the trees Cooper pushed her down and undid his belt while standing over her.
"Like last time," he said.
"Sugar, I don't really recall exactly-"
"No," Cooper said, shaking his head impatiently. "Not like that." He maneuvered her until he had her where he wanted her then entered her with a grunt.
"I could kill you," he said, his breath coming faster.
"No, sugar."
"I could pop your head right off."
He put his hand on her throat, but it was no good with her looking at him. He didn't like anybody looking at him, even though she had done so last time. But last time was different because it was so surprising; this time he could have his way. Cooper turned her over and pulled her back to him to take her the way he had taken the punk.
"No, sugar," she said. "Not that way. That will hurt.
No, sugar."
"Time for your nightlies," he said.
Cooper pulled her back firmly against him and drove into her. She screamed and Cooper smiled, expecting to hear the encouraging calls from the other prisoners, but the only sounds were made by Mayvis.
"No!" she cried. She was wriggling, trying to get free, and her motions excited Cooper. He put his hand around her throat and squeezed.
"I could pull your head right off," he said. "I've done it before." he kept screaming and Cooper tightened his grip until he could no longer hear her cries, and when she fell silent he began to fill the woods with his own noises.
He thought he heard the chorus of approval echoing through the trees, the cons yelling and growling in appreciation of Old Coop. The punk was just lying there and Cooper gave him a push with his foot to get him away.
The punk groaned but didn't move. Cooper thought of just kicking the shit out of him, just for the fun of it. But then a squirrel moved in one of the trees and Cooper watched it for a moment, fascinated by the way it moved around and around the trunk of the tree, always so nervous and skittery as if it were looking over its shoulder all the time.
After a time Cooper realized something was missing and he put his arm around-the punk's waist and pulled him to his knees.
"Let us pray," Cooper said. The punk hung limply in his arm, so Cooper slapped him on the head. "Let us pray," he said again, prompting him.
"Sweet Jesus…" the punk whispered.
The punk's hair was longer and the freckles were gone and Cooper realized it was the woman, not the punk, but he had known that all along, of course he had. There was nothing wrong with pretending, he assured himself.
But he wished it was Swann. He could tell Cooper what to do now. Swann had been a bitch sometimes, but he was Cooper's bitch and he always came around for him in the end. And he seldom cried afterward. This bitch better not cry, either. Cooper hated a crying woman worse than anything.
Cooper rested his back against a tree and pulled Mayvis back onto his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair.:'Tell me you love me," he said.
'I love you," Mayvis said.