And, in the meantime, the second day was drawing to an uneventful close. There were just five more days, and then it was back to the lake, which meant he didn’t have a hell of a lot of time to play games. Five days to get in and get out and go home.
The first thing to do, he told himself, was to relax. He counted his money, decided he couldn’t really afford to see a movie but that he was going to do so anyway.
The price was a pleasant half a buck, which was a break, but the movie was a western, which wasn’t. He sat through it, sighed with relief when it was over, and headed back to the room to sack out.
Before he went to sleep, his mind was made up. He was going to drop over to the drugstore the next afternoon. If anything happened, it happened. If nothing happened, nothing happened.
He drifted off to sleep hoping desperately that something would happen.
Something happened. It was a few minutes after two when he strolled into the drugstore, took a stool at the counter and ordered a coke. She gave him, in addition to the coke, a huge grin and a quick wink that was about as subtle as a blasting cap. When she shoved the coke at him she managed to lean so far over the counter that her uniform dropped about five inches away from her breasts. The breasts had looked damned good with the uniform around them and looked even better all by themselves. He tried to look away, but it wasn’t easy.
“Like what you see?”
He stared at her.
“Because if you do—”
A customer came in and mercifully cut the discussion short before it really got going. The customer was a middle-aged woman with a pot belly who had the gall to order a double banana split with extra whipped cream. It took Saralee awhile to slap the garbage together, and while she was splitting bananas and scooping ice cream he tried to pull himself together.
She wasn’t just forward. She was brazen, and eager, and ready. It wasn’t a quail hunt, not this time. It was a rooster hunt. She was the one who was doing the hunting, and he was the one who was being hunted, and somehow this took the joy of the chase out of it.
But, at the same time...
It took the woman a lot less time to devour the double banana split than it had taken Saralee to prepare it. The sloppy old broad waddled out of the drugstore and off into the wilds of Brighton, and there they were again.
He felt trapped.
“He’s old and he’s ugly and he’s no good,” she was telling him. “And you’re young and fresh and I want you. How old are you, Vince?”
“Seventeen.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s all.”
“Most boys your age would have said they were older than that.”
He shrugged. If she thought he was going to lie about his age just for a chance at her fair young body, she had another think coming.
“I never lie,” he lied.
“I’m only nineteen,” she said. “I guess it’s all right. I mean, I’m two years older than you, but it doesn’t make much difference. You’re probably pretty mature for your age, anyway.”
Sure, he thought. But only below the neck.
“And he’s forty-three,” she said, nodding in the direction of the prescription department. “Forty-three years old and no damn good at all. You know what it’s like for a girl with a man like that?”
“Must be rough.”
She nodded. “It’s horrible.”
He took a breath. “Look,” he said. “I mean, there must be guys in town. You shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“That’s just it, Vince. I’m not a tramp. If I did it with anybody from Brighton it would be all over town. Don’t you see? But you’re from out of town and nobody would have to know. We would just do it and it would be great and then it would be over.”
“I guess I’m the answer to a maiden’s prayers.”
She leaned close, giving him another look at her navel. “I’m no maiden,” she said. “But you’re the answer. You got a car?”
“Sort of.”
“Listen to me. You pick me up on the corner of Fourth and Schwerner at seven-thirty. We’ll be done with dinner by then and I’ll tell him I’m going out for a walk. But I won’t be going for a walk. I’ll be going for a ride, and then we’ll stop the car, and then well both be going for a ride again. You understand?”
“Seven-thirty,” he said stupidly.
“That’s right. You’ll be there, won’t you? Because I’ll be waiting.”
“I guess so.”
“You sound afraid. You’re not afraid of me, are you? I don’t think you’re afraid. I’ll bet you’ve had lots of girls. I’ll bet you’re real good at it.”
“Don’t worry,” he advised her. “I’m not a virgin. There aren’t any.”
For a minute she looked bewildered, which was understandable. Then she did another deep knee bend and showed him her chest again.
“Look what I’ve got,” she said. “All for you. And more, all for you. Anything you want, and it’s all for you, Vince. Don’t keep me waiting.”
You’re not afraid of me, are you?
Hell, no. Not him. He wasn’t afraid. He was going to pick her up, and take her for a drive, and give her a workout that would keep her happy for the next hundred years. And then he would get back in the car and point the car away from Brighton and that would be that. Afraid? What in hell was there to be afraid of?
He was scared stiff.
He didn’t taste dinner. But he finished it, somehow, and by seven-fifteen he was in the car. He drove to the gas station, put a couple bucks worth in the tank, and headed toward Schwerner Street. He drove along Schwerner to Second, and then to Third, and all the way he kept half-hoping that he would get to Fourth and she wouldn’t be there.
She was, of course. He stopped the car and she was sitting next to him at once, her lips already parted for a kiss. His tongue darted between the lips and her arms wound around him and that chest of hers pressed tight against him. And then he wasn’t scared any more.
“I couldn’t wait,” she said. “I thought you wouldn’t come and I thought somebody might see us and I thought I would go out of my mind. But you came and nobody saw us and it’s all right now. Take a right turn, there’s an old road a few miles up. Nobody ever goes there. We’ll be all right.”
He couldn’t talk. He just drove, finding the old road, wondering absently how many other guys had taken her there, then stopping the car and not wondering or caring about anything but Saralee.
The chase was gone, but there was something far more exciting in its own way than the chase. There was a woman, a woman born for love, and there was Vince, and the two of them were getting along fine.
The old awkwardness of seduction in an automobile didn’t come into the picture, not when the girl involved was so eager to be seduced. He was happily surprised when Saralee scampered over the seat and into the back the minute the brakes were on.
From there on it was ideal. He didn’t have to undress her because she began tearing her own clothes off instantly. He had all he could do to get his own clothes off fast enough. Then she was in his arms, and she was kissing him again, and all of her was next to all of him.
“Sooooooo good, Vince. Touch me here and here and here. Touch me all over, touch me, kiss me, bite me, do everything to me. Don’t ever stop, Vince. Please don’t stop. I don’t want it to stop. I want it to go on forever. Please, Vince. Oh, it’s so good. So good, Vince, and I need it so much, and yes I need it, Vince, yes it’s so good don’t yes don’t stop keep going yes I love it yes I love it yes I love it I need it I want it oh yes yes yes yes YES!”
It was over, suddenly, and the uncomfortable feeling of having been seduced was overridden by the joy of having been seduced so expertly. There was no getting around it — some girls were a lot better at it than other girls. And when a girl was good at it, and wanted it, it made a difference. One hell of a difference.