The Bighead (7 page)

Then he sat on a stump,
lookin up at the bright blue sky, lookin’ at the birds frolickin’
in the trees, an’ such other visions’a beauty. But humpin’ that
blondie—just thinkin’ back on it, mind ya—well, it made The Bighead
hard as Grandpappy’s cherrywood walkin’ stick. So’s Bighead whupped
it out’a his overalls an’ jacked hisself a second nut right then’n
there, he did.
Good
nut, it was,
real
good, like ta make his knees knock! He comed in his hand an’
slurped it up right quick, ’cos, see, Bighead didn’t like ta waste
nothin’, not even his own peckersnot.

‘
Sides, it tasted
good.

—
| — | —

FOUR

(I)

“
My God!” Jerrica
exclaimed, gazing out over the weathered wood veranda. “Look at all
the flowers!”

“
I know,” Charity said. She
was remembering more and more, just in the few hours she’d been
here. Aunt Annie was a bonafide green thumb. The back yard, right
up the treeline, was a carpet of flowers. Flanks of mallows and
bluecurls. Lines of adderstongues and yellow violets. Dense beds of
day lilies and chickory and blazing-purple bellflowers. A veritable
explosion of colors and scents.

Jerrica, unimpeded in only panties and
bra, seemed seized in awe. More to herself than to Charity, she
murmured, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful…in my
life.”

Charity distractedly agreed. What
distracted her was Jerrica’s state of dress, or lack thereof. Only
moments ago, she’d boldly waltzed through the connecting door into
Charity’s bedroom. “I’m such a ditz!” she announced. “I was just
about to take a shower when I realized I forgot my deodorant! Do
you have any I can borrow?”

“
Uh, sure,” Charity said,
and quickly rummaged through her suitcase for her can of Dry Care
spray. The sudden vision shook her: Jerrica’s physique covered so
scantily. White-lace panties and bra, nearly see-through. Charity
tried to act normal but it was hard. Jerrica stood casually in her
underthings, long sleek legs rising to give shape to a physique of
well-defined, feminine curves. And she was so
tan,
every inch of exposed skin a
shiny, deep nut-brown, which offered a sharp contrast to the
linen-white orbs of her breasts. Dark-pink nipples easily showed
through the lace, and so did the puffing tuft of dark, blond hair
at her pubis. And the white-blond hair on her head only furthered
the contrast; like glossing silk, the color of bleached straw, it
hung straight to her shoulders.
She’s
beautiful,
Charity thought. Certainly it
wasn’t any erotic appreciation by which she appraised Jerrica
Perry. It was, instead, a diversion of observations: envy and
objective surveyance. Maybe some jealousy too.
God, I wish I looked like her,
Charity pined to herself.

“
You…wow. You have a nice
tan,” was the only thing Charity could summon to say.

“
Thanks,” Jerrica offered.
“It ain’t the sun, believe me. I go to a tanning salon in Bowie
three times a week, year round. But…Christ, Charity.” Jerrica,
then, casually as everything else about her, touched Charity’s
shoulder, pushing aside very slightly the bra strap showing beneath
her summer dress. “You look like you haven’t been in the sun in
years.”

“
I—well, I haven’t,
really.”

“
That’s what we can do
while we’re here!” Jerrica excitedly exclaimed, her eyes
brightening. “Tomorrow we can go out back and do some
sunbathing.”

The idea seemed alien to Charity, and
she remained thoroughly distracted by Jerrica’s close-to-naked
body. “Uh, well, okay. That would be nice.” Charity, sheepishly
then, handed Jerrica the deodorant.

“
Oh, wow! Check this out!”
Jerrica was exclaiming again. That’s when she’d noticed the open
french doors to Charity’s veranda. She marched out and gazed in
astonishment over the heavy wood rail.

Charity followed her. “Aunt Annie
loves flowers. That’s why the back yard’s full of them. It’s funny,
how well I remember it all.”

Jerrica’s sheerly
brassiered breasts compressed as she leaned on the rail, peering
out. “The only flowers I see in the city are fake.” As she leaned
further, though, Charity couldn’t keep her eyes off the perfectly
formed rump. More envy, more jealousy. Seeing her companion like
this only made Charity feel more inept and dissociated.
Maybe if I had a body like hers,
she surmised,
men would
call me back…

“
She’s always loved
flowers,” she roused from her secret muse. Suddenly, and quite
unexpectedly, she felt misted with sweat. “When I was little,
before the state took me, I’d wander around the garden for hours,
every day during the summer.”

“
I don’t blame y—” Jerrica
began, then halted. She pointed over the rail. “Hey, isn’t that
Goop?”

Charity hadn’t noticed. But, yes, back
by the compost shed, there he stood, a huge flesh-sculpture in
overalls. Goop Gooder, her aunt’s handyman. He was staring up at
the veranda. “That’s him all right. And it looks like you’ve got a
secret admirer.”

The moment Goop saw that they’d
noticed him, he jerked around, went back to reeling up watering
hoses.

“
He’s kind of, well—”
Jerrica paused. “He’s cute.”

Goop Gooder!
Charity couldn’t believe it.
He’s a hick!
But, again, she couldn’t
prevent her eyes from side-glancing up the sleek slope of Jerrica’s
legs and back.

“
Hi, Goop!” Jerrica fairly
shouted, and waved. Her barely covered breasts
swayed—
more
jealousy on Charity’s part—and her smile beamed
down.

“
Uh-uh-uh, hi there, Ms.,
uh, Jerrica,” he blathered and went back to his work.

“
They guy’s a trip,”
Jerrica said to Charity. “He’s such a cliche.”

Wait till you’ve been in
town for a week,
Charity
thought.

“
Well, anyway, thanks for
loaning me your deodorant. I’ll bring it right back.”

“
Talk to you later,”
Charity offered.

And then, for the last time, Charity’s
eyes fell on Jerrica as she walked out and closed the connecting
door between their two rooms.

Charity didn’t falter. She
rushed to the mirror, skimmed off her clothes. What glinted back at
her was a body she hated. Her breasts were beginning to sag, her
navel sunk, and her nipples were ovaled, so much unlike the pert,
full, and perfectly round nipples of her riding companion.
And I’m fat,
she
condemned herself, though she really wasn’t. She had a
distinctive
poshness
under her skin, not fat at all, and well-formed feminine
curves too. But it was the sheer indefectibility of Jerrica Perry
that made her self-conscious. She couldn’t stop seeing it: that
tight abdomen; the sleek, muscled legs; a tight, full
buttocks.
I should take better care of
myself,
Charity knew.

Her skin shone milk white,
all over. Her pubic patch remained untrimmed. She hadn’t nearly the
muscle tone of her friend, nor the beaming vitality. And her hair,
which she also positively hated, hung about her head in unruly,
chocolate curls. Being naturally curly, thanks to magazines such
as
Cosmopolitan
,
Vogue
and
Elle,
seemed like more of a curse…

No wonder men never want
to go out with me more than once,
she
considered her curse. Charity was a beautiful woman, but she’d
never realize that thanks to the brain-washing designs of a
cosmetic society.

Her hand, then, very discretely,
brushed upward against the gentle furrow of her sex. A dull spark
shot off, and for a single second, her breasts felt tingly and
full. But then it all collapsed.

Just like it always did.

She showered quickly in cool water,
dressed even more quickly. Yes, it was wonderful to be back, but
what did that show her?

More failure. More disappointment and
unfulfillment.

Back on the veranda, she tried to
erase her self-condemnations. She gazed out onto the explosive beds
of flowers, inhaling their meld of scents. Coming home was just
what she needed, but, now, it seemed, it didn’t matter where she
went. She would always feel second-rate, inferior.

An ugly
duckling…

A sound swished at her
ears. She gazed harder.
What is
that?
she wondered. She was sure she’d
heard a sound.

Then—

Aunt Annie,
she saw.

Along the narrow aisle through the
flowers, her aunt walked, her arms cradled with flowers.

Where is she going?
Charity wondered.

There would be, of course, no answer.
Eventually her aunt disappeared into the curtain of the woodline,
and disappeared.

(II)

Gawd!
Goop Gooder thought. Dirt scuffed off in his hands as he
reeled in more hose, the sun on his back. His simple mind felt
light and airy with wonders; he’d just seen the blond city woman,
and with only her underwear on!

Done reeling in the hose, Goop
scurried back into the house, carrying a bucket for some unknown
reason. At the very least, he knew he was a handyman, and he
figured that being seen with a bucket might make sense to an
onlooker. Ms. Annie, though, had already left, with fresh-picked
flowers, on her walk to the woods. It was something she did most
every day.

And with Miss Annie out of the house,
Goop didn’t have to worry about getting caught, did he?

He’d found it years ago, the loose
panel in the back of his closet. He closed his bedroom door, set
down the bucket. He couldn’t help it—he had to rub his crotch, and
when he did so he felt that undeniable ooze of pre-ejaculatory
fluid run up his pipe, because just seeing Miss Jerrica like that,
all soft and tan in those pretty girl undies of hers, that had him
hard in his pants in no time. He set back the sheetrock panel, then
entered the oblong, black entry behind. A tiny pen light showed his
way, through a modest labyrinth, and soon he’d arrived at the
proper dot. See, Goop had long ago drilled the tiniest holes
through the walls of most every room. The first hole he came to
showed only Miss Charity, Annie’s beloved niece, sitting amope in a
different dress than the one she’d come in. Miss Charity was a
fair-looking woman, for sure, but when Goop put his open eye to the
next hole, all he could think was:

Gawd!

It was that city blond, Miss Jerrica,
just stepping out of the shower. All big tits and tan legs and a
big blond bush on her. She began drying off with a towel, kind of
slowly, kind of like she was savoring the feel of that towel
against her skin…

Aw, God…

Goop, of course, expected her to put
on her clothes, and that would be the end of it. Instead, though,
what she did was this:

She laid down on the bed.

What the—

There was this look on her face.
Pretty as her face was, the look made Goop Gooder a bit sad, for it
was a look of unhappiness, even desperation. But all things
considering, Goop didn’t pay it much mind when he saw what she did
next.

Lying right there flat out on the bed,
she…spread her legs.

And fine legs they were, no doubt,
long and lean and tan like those California girls Goop had seen in
the girlie mags. And the plot on her…

She had a plot that popped a stiffer
on Goop right quick. It was kind of a dark blond, and Goop ain’t
never seen a bush on a girl that wasn’t black. But this Miss
Jerrica, she ran her hand through it just then, and her legs
stiffened, and her ass, well, it flexed up. And—

Good Gawd!

Her other hand slid up that trim belly
of hers, and gave one of her hooters a tight squeeze.

She was just so beautiful, Goop
couldn’t stop himself. He liked her so much, and she must like him
too, otherwise why would she have said hi to him when she was
standing on Miss Charity’s balcony?

Yeah, maybe she likes
me…

Goop unzipped and had his dog in his
hand in about a second. He was hanging hard, he was, and he got to
pulling his pud right quick. It felt so much better, doing himself
while watching a pretty woman lie naked on a bed. But then she
began to do more, like she got to really touching herself, and
sinking her fingers deep into her slot, and her pretty ass was
squirming all over. Goop loved those white tits on her, and that
deep white patch of skin just above her plot. The rest of her was
so brown, like the toast Aunt Annie made in her oven…

Aw, Gawd, aw,
Gawd—

Goop’s balls pulled up as he was
watching Miss Jerrica, and he shot a spunker right onto the inside
wall. It drooled down like a long white worm, but, of course, it
wasn’t the first time. Goop had jacked off spying female guests
many a time. Only thing was—