I spit on your graves (3 page)

That afternoon when I pulled over the collapsible iron-latticework at five o'clock, I didn't go back into the store to work as usual, under the fluorescent lights. I took my hat

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and, carrying my jacket on my arm, I went straight across the street to the drugstore. I had a room upstairs. There were three customers in the place, a boy of about fifteen and two girls of about the same age. They looked at me absently and turned back to their milk shakes. The very sight of the shakes gave me the shakes. Fortunately I had a good remedy for that right in my jacket-pocket.

I sat down at the counter, a seat away from the tallest of the two girls. The waitress, a homely looking brunette gave me a vague look.

"What have you got besides milk drinks?'

"Lemon and lime," she suggested, "Grapefruit juice, tomato juice, coke?"

"Grapefruit juice," I said, "and don't fill the glass up, either."

I felt in my jacket-pocket, and unscrewed the flask-cap.

"No liquor here," the waitress objected meekly.

"It's alright. It's my medicine," I gave a laugh. "Don't worry about your license."

I handed her a dollar. I had gotten my check that morning. Ninety bucks a week. Clem sure knew the right people. She gave me my change, and I left her a dime tip.

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Grapefruit juice and bourbon isn't exactly a drink, but its better than nothing. I felt better, -1 'd snap out of it. I was snapping out of it. The three kids were looking at me. For kids like that at twenty-six I was an old man. I smiled at the little blond. She had on a sky-blue sweater with white stripes, no collar, the sleeves pushed up above the elbow, and little white sox in thick crepe-soled shoes. She was cute. Nice breasts. Probably firm to the touch, like ripe plums. She didn't have a brassiere on and the nipples stuck out through the fabric. She smiled back at me.

"Hot, isn't it?" I said to break the ice.

"Awful," she said, stretching herself.

There were sweat-stains under her armpits. That did something to me. I got up and slipped a nickel into the slot of the jukebox near the window.

"Feel like dancing?" I said, coming over to her.

"It'll probably kill me," she said.

She pressed up against me so hard I lost my breath. She smelled like a freshly washed baby. She was slender, and I could reach her right shoulder with my right hand. I reached out with my arm, and slid my fingers in just under her breast. The others had been watching us, and they danced too. It was the

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hit-song "Shoo Fly Pie" with vocal by Dinah Shore. The girl hummed the melody as she danced. The waitress had lifted her nose out of her magazine when we started dancing, but turned back to it after a minute or so.

She didn't have a thing on under her sweater. I could feel it right away. I was glad when the record ended. Another two minutes and I wouldn't have been able to control myself any more. She let me go, went back to her seat, and looked at me.

"You don't dance at all bad for somebody as old as you are."

"It was my grandpop who taught me," I said.

"You can tell that easy," she returned the kidding, "Not the least bit hep."

"You won't find me so handy with your jive, but I bet there's plenty of other tricks I could teach you."

She dropped her eyelashes and looked at me through half closed eyes.

"Grown up tricks?"

"That depends on you."

"I can guess what you're leading up to..." she said.

"I'm not so sure you do. Do any of you have a guitar?"

"You play the guitar?" said the boy.

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He seemed to wake up all of a sudden.

"A little," I said.

"Then you sing too," the other girl said.

"A little."

"He's got a voice just like Cab Calloway's," the first one put in.

She seemed to be a little mad at seeing the others talk to me. I'd better take it easy.

"Take me somewhere where I can get my hands on a guitar and I'll show you what I can do. I don't claim to be the father of the blues himself, but I can play them."

She looked straight at me.

"O.K." she said, "we'll go to B.J.'s."

"He's got a guitar?"

"She's got a guitar, Betty Jane."

"It could have stood for Barney, Junior." I exclaimed.

"Yeah," she said. "She lives over here, come on!"

"Right away?' the boy said.

"Why not?" I said. "She's got to be convinced."

"O.K." the boy said, "My name is Dick. She's Jicky."

He pointed to the girl I'd danced with.

"I'm Judy," said the other girl.

"And I'm Lee Anderson," I said. "I run

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the bookstore across the street."

"We know," said Jicky. "Everybody has known it for the past two weeks.

"That interested?"

"Sure thing," said Judy. "We could use some men in this town."

The four of us went out in spite of Dick's objections. They looked rather excited. I still had enough whiskey left to hop them up a little more if necessary.

"I'm all yours" I said when we were outside.

Dick's roadster, an ancient Chrysler, was parked at the curb. He took the two girls up front with him, and I made myself comfortable in the back.

"How do you kids keep yourselves busy," I asked.

The car took off smoothly, and Jicky got on her knees on the front seat, turned toward me.

"We work," she said.

"Schoolwork?" I suggested.

"That and other things."

"If you come back here," I said, raising my voice a little because of the wind, "it'd be easier to talk."

"Maybe," she murmured.

She again lowered her eyelids.

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She must have picked up the trick in some movie.

"Afraid to get in a bad spot?"

"No-o" she said.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her over the seat.

"Hey you," said Judy, turning around, "that's a funny way of talking."

I was shifting Jicky over to my left, and was maneuvering to grab her in the right spots. She sure was something to grab hold of. She seemed to know what was cooking. I put her down on the leather seat, and put my arm around her neck.

"Quiet now," I said, "Or I'll give you a spanking."

"What have you got in that bottle?" she asked.

1 had my jacket on my knees. She slid her hand in and, I don't know whether she did it on purpose or not, but she hit the right spot.

"Hold tight," I said, drawing out her hand. "I'll give you some."

I screwed the metal cap off and offered her the flask. She took a good slug.

"Leave some for us," hollered Dick.

He was looking at us in the rear-view mirror.

"Be a fellow and let me have some, Lee".

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"Don't worry, there's plenty more."

He steered with one hand, and stretched out the other towards us.

"Take it easy, won't you," Judy objected. "Don't land us in a ditch."

"Don't be a wet blanket. Don't you ever let yourself go?"

"Never!" she said defiantly.

She snatched the flask out of Dick's hands as he was about to give it back to me. When I got it, it was empty.

"Well!" I said approvingly, "feel better now?"

"Oh! its not so bad," she said.

I could see the tears showing in her eyes, but she held up alright. Her voiced sounded a bit choked.

"Damn, said Jicky, "there's no more left for me."

"We'll go after some more," I suggested.

Let's get the guitar first and then we'll go back to Ricardo's."

"You're lucky," the boy said. "Nobody'U sell us any."

"That's what you get for looking so young," I kidded them.

"Not as young as that," Jicky said angri-

She squirmed about and got into such a

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position that all I had to do was press with my fingers to keep me well occupied. The roadster suddenly stopped, and I dropped my hand on her arm.

"Be right back," Dick cried.

He got out and ran to the house. It was one of a whole row, obviously built by the same company on contract. Dick reappeared on the porch. He had a guitar in a shiny case. Slamming the door behind him, he was back in the car in a couple of jumps.

"B.J. isn't here," he told us. "What're we going to do?"

"We'll bring it back to her," I said, "Climb in. Drive to Ricardo's and I'll get this baby filled up."

"You're going to get yourself a nice reputation," said Judy

"I'm not worried," I assured her. "Everybody'll understand right away that you're the ones who dragged me into your wild orgies."

We turned around, but now the guitar was in my way. I told the boy to stop a short ways before the bar, and I got out to get a refill. I bought an extra flask, and went back to the bunch. Dick and Judy, on their knees on the front seat, were in a hot argument with the blond.

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"What do you say, Lee", said the boy, "How about going swimming?"

"O.K." I said, "Got a pair of trunks to loan me? I haven't got a thing here."

"Oh, we'll manage," he said.

He took off, and we drove out of town. Almost immediately he took a little side road, just wide enough for the Chrysler and in pretty bad shape. In no shape at all, as a matter of fact.

"We've got a swell spot to go swimming," he said. "Nobody ever goes there. Swell water, too."

"Trout stream?"

"Yep. Gravel and white sand. Never see a soul there. We're the only ones that ever take this road."

"You can see that," I said, holding my jaw which I was afraid might get jolted off at the next bump. "You should trade this baby in for a half-track or something."

"It's all part of the fun," he explained. "It keeps people from sticking their dirty noses into our spot."

He stepped on the gas, and I offered up my soul to my maker. The road took a sudden turn and after another five hundred feet it just gave out. There were just some thick bushes there. The Chrysler stopped just before a big

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maple and Dick and Judy jumped out. I then got out and lifted Jicky out. Dick had taken the guitar and led the way. I picked my way after him. There was a narrow path under the branches and we suddenly came on the stream, clear and cool as a glass of gin. The sun was pretty low in the sky, but it was still very hot. On one side the water rippled in the shade and on the other it glistened brightly in the slanting rays of the sun. A patch of thick, dry, almost powdery grass went right down to the stream.

"This spot isn't bad at all," I said approvingly. "D'ya find it all by yourselves?"

"Do you take us for some little dopes," said Jicky.

And a clod of dry earth hit me on the neck.

"If you don't behave right, I won't give you any more milk", and I patted my pocket to make sure they understood.

"Oh, don't get mad, nice old blues-singer," she said. "How about showing us what you can do."

"How about the trunks?" I asked Dick.

"You won't need any," he said. "Nobody ever comes here."

I turned around. Judy had already

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taken off her sweatshirt. She sure wasn't wearing much under it. Her skirt sHpped down her legs, and in a jiffy, she kicked off her socks and shoes. She stretched out on the grass, completely nude. I must have had a dopey expression on my face, since she laughed at me in such a mocking manner that I almost forgot myself. Dick and Jicky, now dressed in the same uniform, lay down beside her. As a result of their laughter, I was the one who felt embarrassed. I nevertheless took notice that the boy was very skinny, his ribs sticking out under his sun-tanned skin.

"O.K.." I said, "I'm game."

I purposely took my time. I appreciated what a fine body I had, and I made sure that they had the time to appreciate it too while I was undressing. I gave myself a good stretch, crackling my bones, and then I sat down next to them. I still wasn't completely calmed down from my campaign with Jicky, but I didn't try to hide anything. I suppose they had expected me to go down.

I grabbed the guitar. It was an excellent Ediphone. I didn't like to play sitting on the ground so I said to Dick.

"O.K. with you if I go after the car-seat?"

"I'll go with you," Jicky said.

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She slithered through the bushes like an eel. It was a funny effect she made with her boyish body and her face like a Hollywood starlet, in the middle of the bushes with their dark shadows. I put down the guitar and followed her. She had a good start on me, and by the time I reached the car, she was coming back, carrying the heavy leather seat.

"Let me have it," I said.

"Let me alone, Tarzan!" she cried.

I paid no attention to her protestations, and I grabbed her roughly by the behind. She dropped the seat and didn't object. I was hot enough to have jumped a monkey. She must have realized it, for she gave me a tough tussle. I broke out into a happy laugh. I liked that. The grass was high in that spot, and soft as a rubber mattress. She slipped onto the ground and I went down too. We wrestled about like a couple of savages. She was tanned to the tips of her breasts, and didn't have the brassiere-marks that disfigure so many nude women. As smooth as silk, and naked as a babe, but when I finally got her under me, I learned right quick that she was no baby. She gave me the best sample of technique I'd had in many a moon. My fingers felt the hollows and curves of her back, and farther down, her buttocks, hard as a watermel-

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on. We kept it up for about ten minutes. She made out as though she were sleeping, and just as I was going all the way, she dropped me like a hot potato and ran away from me towards the river. I picked up the seat and ran after her. At the edge of the stream she sprinted and dove into the water without a splash.

"You're going in already?"

It was Judy's voice. She was chewing on a blade of grass, stretched out on her back, her hands under her head. Dick, sprawled out beside her, was caressing her thighs. One of the two flasks was tossed aside on the ground. She caught my look.