The Sitter Page 14

  Catherine had been very worried since Emma spoke to her about this, as was Emma herself. She knew it couldn't be anything serious but she had decided this morning she would have a much better time at Perfect Peace tonight if she spoke with Larry--a 'clearing of the air', so to speak. “It was some sort of...sexual thing, I guess. I was upset to hear about it.”

  Larry turned and faced her with such a blinding smile it quite literally took her breath away. He was becoming such a handsome lad, her Larry! For a while his features had looked too big for his face. But his face had now caught up with itself and the effect was quite pleasing. She did so wish her dear daddy had lived to know his grandson!

  Larry came over to her as she sat at the kitchen table and leaned down close to her face. “No worries, Ma, It was nothing.” He kissed her cheek. “That's why I didn't tell you about it.”

  “Just the same, Larry, I'd like to know--”

  “Sure, sure, okay,” he said, very chipper. “This girl, Jordan, well...she tried to get with me, you know?”

  Catherine could well imagine that a girl would try to 'get with' as Larry put it, her handsome boy.

  “See, I didn't want her the way she wanted me. She sort of freaked out--over reacted, I guess you'd say. She told the principal that I was the one after her, and that I scared her.” He laughed, shaking his head.

  “Well for heaven's sake!” Catherine was amazed at this travesty. “How dare she--”

  “Now Ma,” said Larry, patting her shoulder, “it's no big deal. We all talked it over and everything is cool now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Totally,” he said, walking to the door. He was grinning as he left the kitchen.

  Sighing fondly, she went to the cupboard for a touch more of her morning whiskey.

  Lately, she'd had the notion that she needed to be more of a mother to her boy. She needed to have more loving chats with him like the one they'd just had. Just because he was now a senior in high school didn't mean he couldn't use a little motherly love in his life. Boys never get too old for that!

  Life was so different since Perfect Peace, Catherine reflected as she sipped her doctored coffee. It was just plain good. She was so much more relaxed since worshipping with Emma and the Church of Perfect Peace. A sense of harmony had come over her, and Catherine knew it was a harmony of heavenly origin.

  She was grateful to Emma for sharing her faith but had to admit she was surprised at Emma's obvious...well...lust for the blood and the violence required to obtain it. She was always volunteering to perform the sacrifice itself. The woman had even purchased a few young bunnies she kept in a large cage in her back yard for future ceremonies.

  Content with the way her day had started, Catherine straightened her tiny kitchen and went to her room to get ready for another pleasant 'work day.'

  Seated at Emma's handsome card table, Catherine dealt the first gin hand of the day. “I talked with Larry about the Kennedy girl, Emma,” Catherine said. “He explained that she came on to him and was very upset when he didn't respond.” Emma pursed her thin lips, shaking her head slightly. Catherine hurried on, not wanting to deal with the old lady's obvious disbelief of Larry's explanation. “He said the two of them and Principal Perez had spoken together and worked it all out.” Emma frowned.

  Catherine needed to change the topic.

  “Since Perfect Peace has come into my life, Emma, I find myself so often thinking of my dear daddy. I don't know why exactly. With all the holy bonding with God that goes on in Perfect Peace I seem to be getting in touch with my past.”

  “It's the blood,” Emma stated, sorting her cards. “Blood is the essence of life. Through sacrifice it is offered to God and he gives us peace in return. Peace and revelations.” She spoke as if reading from a text. “And, Cathy-girl, speaking of revelations, I'd keep a close eye on your Larry if I were you.”

  She picked up Catherine's discard. “I'll have that one, Dearie.”

  “Another interesting thing, Emma,” Catherine said, ignoring the comment about Larry, “I feel so...important! I have a sense of significance and well being. The pace of the game slowed as Emma gave Catherine the soothing balm of her rapt attention. “I know now I have a place in the grand, God-blessed scheme of things. Sometimes I'm downright dizzy with these wonderful new feelings. I do so thank you, Emma, for introducing me to Perfect Peace.”

  Emma reached over and squeezed Catherine's arm. “You're a good woman, Cathy- Girl,” she said with emotion. “And, so very dear to me.”

  The two friends played cards, sharing their thoughts and comments until after lunch and well into the afternoon when Catherine said goodbye. She walked home to get ready for their visit to the Church of Perfect Peace.

  Her driveway was empty--where was her car? Just this morning she had been rhapsodizing about what a fine, responsible lad Larry was turning out to be, for heaven's sake! So much for that transformation! Thank goodness Emma continued to be so generous with her car. Catherine knew she wouldn't mind if they took the Mercedes to church.

  *****

  Easy, so totally easy. But why am I surprised? Everything's easy now.

  She sat next to him in his mother's Honda, proof of the charmed life he was living these days. Jordan Kennedy--the one and only. With any luck at all, she'd be easy too.

  Larry had called her every day since she had beaned him with the pen canister in Perez's office. He'd been damned clever, Larry thought. So patient and cool, so caring and sensitive. Finally, last night on the phone his campaign had paid off.

  'Yeah I know Jordan--hey I know,' he had said to her as she rambled on about what an asshole he was. This was a conversation they had often because he kept calling her and she kept telling him to go fuck himself. 'I'm telling you, Jordan, I know I was wrong. I mean totally. I need to see you so I can tell you in person how sorry I am.'

  He listened to her breathe for a minute, grateful she wasn't hanging up on him which was usually what she did at this point. Then Larry dropped his voice down into what he hoped were deeply sincere tones. 'How can I make it up to you? What can I do? Tell me Jordan--anything.' Hearing her breath come a little faster then, Larry figured he had a chance. 'Please, Jordan...' he made his voice break. 'Please.'

  'Why,' she said then after what seemed to Larry like an hour or so, 'why did you do that? You made me sound like a whore!'

  'Ah Jordan... ' he felt a surge of power then, and hope. 'No way do I think of you like that—no way! I was...I guess...you just blew me away, you know?'

  'But you just dragged me in there... and then said I was hitting on you!'

  'I know, I know. I'm a dick. But see... ' he dropped his voice again, like he was about to say something really important and confidential. 'It's like I said--you blew me away. Everything just got away from me... ' Larry let his voice fade for a minute like he didn't trust himself to go on. 'Shit, Jordan. Just let me make it up to you.' Her breath in his ear was heavy, weighted with promise. 'Tell me what you want, Jordan. Anything. Dinner? A movie? A trip to Europe?'

  She had laughed then--a welcome sound--and they made a date.

  The really weird thing, Larry thought as he drove, was that he was having a good time. He made her laugh and that was awesome. She seemed to think he was hilarious. Jesus, maybe he was! Maybe hilarity was part of his emerging, many-faceted personality. He pulled the Honda off the street about a half block from Bertie McQueen's house and the gazebo. The McQueen's gazebo was perfect for what Larry had in mind. Perfect too, and another example of his continuing good luck, was the fact that the McQueens and their fucking dog were out of town. He had filled in for Bertie's gardener last Saturday and learned that bit of useful information.

  “What are we doing here?” Jordan asked as Larry turned off the engine. “I should be getting home.”

  “I know,” Larry said easily. They had seen a movie and had a huge Mexican dinner, each of Jordan's choice. He felt good, high on his newly acquired self confidence. “I want to
show you this place. It won't take long.” Quickly, Larry got out and raced around the car to her side, opening the door with an exaggerated bow. He took her hand and pulled her along with him, off the sidewalk and onto the grassy area that led to the tennis court and the gazebo.

  “What time is it, do you think?” Jordan asked. She sounded anxious.

  Larry figured it had to be after ten but it wasn't too late for a Friday. He hoped she wasn't going to be a pussy about the time. “Probably around nine. Maybe a little after. Hey, check out that moon!” It was huge, almost completely full, going in an out of wind blown clouds.

  She took his arm and he drew her close as they walked. “We're going a secret way,” he whispered, his mouth at her ear. She giggled and Larry was giddy with excitement. He could see the silhouette of the gazebo just ahead. The moon came free of the clouds and was shining romantically. “Look,” he said stopping her. “The gazebo is glowing just for us!” What timing, Larry thought. He put his arm around Jordan and pulled her closer. There was some kind of flowery scent in the air; Larry breathed it in.

  “It's pretty,” Jordan murmured.

  “Yeah. Like you.” He brushed his lips across her temple. Will she laugh at such a dorky line?

  She did, but it was more nervous than derisive, and Larry was fired with hope. Close to her, he realized that scent he liked was coming from her, drifting up to him from her body. Jordan was wearing another of those low cut jobs that showed the tops of her boobs, and a pair of silky white shorts that were cut so full that at first he'd thought she had on a short skirt.

  “C'mon,” Larry said, and they walked to the gazebo and up the few steps to the platform.

  Each of the five edges of the structure was easily visible in the moonlight and featured built-in upholstered seating. Several large pillows were scattered around on the seats. The floor was laid with a rough, brick-like tile. Built on a slight rise, the gazebo gave a good view of the tennis court which lay between it and the steps leading up the hill to the house.

  “So, what do you think?”? Larry asked, gesturing expansively as if he'd supplied all this just for Jordan.

  “Beautiful,” she said again. “It's like a little playhouse!”

  Jordan walked around the small glass table in the center of the open area, gracefully trailing a hand over it like an actress in a southern movie. A hurricane lamp was on the table. “So cute,” she murmured. “Want me to light the candle?” Larry smiled and handed her his lighter. Jordan carefully removed the glass chimney and lit the candle. The candlelight transformed the gazebo into an intimate, shadowed setting.

  “Nice,” Larry said, sitting down. “C'mon.” He patted the seat beside him, grinning.

  “Oh, well...just for a minute. I really do have to get home soon though, Larry, for real.”

  She came to his side and sat down close to him. The feel of her warm thigh next to him was delicious, exciting. Nervous, he gingerly put his hand on the silky fabric covering her knees, just barely touching her. Jordan didn't seem to notice. Larry studied her in the faint light, amazed to see she was quite pretty. Had he never really looked at her before? Her eyes were that gray-green color--like Jeannie's.

  “You know, Larry,” she leaned close to him, her face almost touching his, “Mom doesn't know I'm with you tonight.” She gave that nervous laugh again, but it wasn't as charming as the first time she did it. “She thinks I'm studying at Hannah's. She'd have a cow if she knew...”

  “She thinks I'm that bad?”

  “Oh, come on, Larry,” she said, pushing an ample hip into his, “you can't expect her to be crazy about you, can you? Not after what happened at Perez's--”

  “You're beautiful, Jordan, you know that?” Larry smiled at her and squeezed her knee. Reaching across her body with his other hand, he placed it just beneath her ear, his thumb on her cheek. He thought of Jeannie and his dick sprang to attention. He closed his eyes, the better to see his Jeannie. He pulled her close and her lips were soft and warm as they opened under his. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he could taste her at last. Larry quickly slid his hand into her blouse and under her bra, cupping her naked breast.

  All my life...it's been nothing. Just a warm up. For now, Jeannie. For this.

  “Fuck, Larry!” A harsh, shattering voice. It wasn't Jeannie's. It was Jordan screeching at him, pulling away, denying him. “A kiss, maybe,” she said, angrily yanking her blouse back up onto her shoulders. “That's about as far as this ride's gonna go!”

  It came to Larry then that the guys were wrong about Jordan being some kind of nympho. She sure wasn't acting that way with him.

  Is it me?

  But maybe, he thought with fresh excitement, maybe Jordan liked it rough. The guys hadn't mentioned that, but... Hah! If that's what she was after...

  “Yeah, Jordan, a ride. Why not?” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down onto the seat. He slid his body on top of her, pinning her down. “Let's go for a ride.” He lowered his lips roughly to hers. From the condition of his dick, he decided he was the one getting off on force.

  One hand kneading a breast, he lowered his other frantically to his belt where his fly parted easily and his cock sprang into his hand, so ready. No time for the condom so carefully tucked away in his wallet--no way. His body was between her legs, his hand tearing at her shorts, her panties...he heard the fabric rip.

  A sound then, grating in his ears. It was coming from her. Jeannie? She was crying.

  Oh shit! I've made Jeannie cry.

  *****

  I awaken crying. Another bad dream? I don't remember but there is a lingering whisper of a dream--something about my sisters--when I was small. Once again I wish I had kept closer contact with the twins--I need some family to talk to. Steven's arm comes over me, holding me.

  I push him away gently. “Too warm,” I murmur, and brush his forehead with my lips. I roll back to the edge of the bed and sit up. My tears are gone. Steven's hand is on my shoulder then, urging me back down, but I swing my feet down to the floor and rise, staggering slightly.

  “Jeannie- Babe... ”

  “I'm fine,” I assure him, wondering briefly at the blatant inaccuracy of that platitude. Dappled moonlight lights my way into the mirrored dressing room. I walk slowly through it to the bathroom, glimpsing out of the corner of my eye the specter of my slender, pale body in the mirror. The room is barely visible, but I don't need light. At one of the twin basins I splash water on my face, massaging it with both hands onto my throat and the back of my neck. Sleep will not come back easily tonight, I know.

  I walk down the hall to Kevin's room. The sound of his breathing soothes me as I sit down on the floor near his bed and hug my knees. I stare at the comforting sight of my sleeping boy. In the moonlight, I can see his small chest rise and fall. These nocturnal forays into Kevin's room are getting to be a habit. I make them three or four times a week. A harmless activity, I suppose, but not exactly a sign of good mental health.

  My dream has left a residue. I remember enough of it to know it had to do with feeling so very 'left out' around my younger sisters. So strong, so tangible, that loneliness gnawed at me like Stevie's death does now.

  Behind me, I hear Steven come into the room, feel his hands on my shoulders. “Come to bed, Jeannie,” he whispers, sliding his hands down to my upper arms and lifting me to my feet. He does this easily, his hands firm and strong. Together we walk out of Kevin's room into the hall. He is naked.

  Steven stops me in the hall and gently--but with persuasive authority--pushes me to the wall. My forehead rests on the smooth paneling there while his warm body presses against my back. He brings his hands forcefully down over my wrists and forces my body up against the wall. His hot mouth is at my neck, kissing me there.

  He pulls at my gown, then tears it off completely. I feel his cock, hot and hard at the cleft of my bottom. One hand cups a breast while the other slides down my belly and plunges into the soft wetness between my legs--legs tha
t are already parting.

  There is no thought, just feeling. Urgent and driving like a thirst that has gone on so long it has become a fact of my life and is finally about to be quenched. There is no way on earth I can stop my body from responding with such longing. I try to turn, to face him, but he holds me tight, his fingers inside me. Hot breath on my neck; I hear it rushing harshly in and out of his mouth. Like mine.

  Then Steven allows me to turn and lifts me up into his arms. Crushing me against his chest, he carries me into our bedroom. I am lost, wild with need.

  He lays me onto our bed, his body instantly on mine. But I am too far gone for such ordinary sexual behavior and I struggle, turning him so that I am on top--the one with control. But control is a myth. He thrusts himself into me, deeper and deeper, huge within me. Waves of exquisite sensation quickly wash over and through my body. I abandon all thought and reason.

  *****

  Too loud. She was way too loud.

  “--off me, you prick!”

  Larry put a hand over Jordan's mouth. He was on top of her, his weight holding her down. His mouth was at her breast and he had her panties off, her legs forced apart. Practically inside her, but it wasn't nearly as easy as he'd thought it would be. Bitch wasn't helping--she wasn't even wet.

  He rammed himself against her, his erection huge and strong. Jeannie's image was gone--didn't need it now.

  I got to get into this bitch--got to!

  A sharp pain in the hand over her mouth.

  She's biting me!

  He wrenched his hand from her teeth. “Bitch!” he yelled and raised his body up, away from her. He whacked her face hard with the back of his clenched hand. Christ, how good that felt! Jordan lay stunned as he forced a hand between her legs and thrust his fingers up into her. He took his cock in his other hand--marveling briefly at the biggest boner he had ever produced in his whole life--and began to force it--

  An explosion...side of his head...his face. Stunning pain...colors in his head... a throbbing light show of reds and yellows flashing against the black velvet of his mind.