"Heartstone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Margolin Phillip)

PART TWO. DEATH

1

Elaine Murray was so excited that her hand shook and she smeared her lipstick. She rubbed her lips together to even the Tahitian Passion. She saw the spot the smear had made on the skin beneath her lower lip and used a tissue to wipe it away. She said, “Oh, damn,” when the spot resisted. Then she giggled. She liked to swear in the privacy of her room or when she was with close friends, but using swear words always caused a nervous giggle, because she knew her folks would never approve. They were both very square.

Her hair looked fine. It was natural auburn brown. Sometimes, when the sun was just right, Richie said it looked like it was on fire. She patted the edges with approval.

Elaine stood up and walked over to a full-length mirror that hung on her closet door. She struck a pose and smiled. Her body was trim and athletic. Her stomach was very flat from exercise and her hips were wide and curvy. When she looked at her breasts, she frowned a little. They were beautifully shaped, but small. She knew that men liked large breasts and she hoped that Richie would not be disappointed. She had thought about wearing falsies, but rejected the idea. She was sure that tonight would be the night and she did not want to be a phony. She wanted Richie to know exactly what he was going to get. Besides, Richie was a gentleman and he would never tell that she was smaller than she usually appeared. That would be their secret. One of the things that they would share-maybe forever.

Forever! Elaine closed her eyes and lay back on the bed. She tried to imagine Richie and her married. Of course, that wouldn’t happen for some time. After all, they weren’t even going steady…yet. But after tonight…

Elaine didn’t want to think about it. Maybe she was guessing wrong and he would not ask her. After all, they had only been dating seriously for a month. A month. It seemed like forever. She could not remember when she had been so happy. Richie Walters. It seemed like a dream come true.

Elaine had had a crush on Richie Walters since her sophomore year, but he had not even noticed her until this summer when they had both worked at the Empire Department Store. At first he had just talked with her at breaks or when he passed through her department. Her father, Dr. Harold Murray, knew the Empire’s store manager and he had gotten her the job for the summer. Richie had gotten his job the same way. They had joked about being rich and having pull. Elaine was sure, though, that Richie could have gotten any job he wanted on his own. He was so handsome. She loved his curly blond hair and blue eyes. His nose was so perfect. And he was so smart, so deep. Richie knew all about things. He had worked on President Kennedy’s campaign this fall and had actually met the President when he had campaigned in Portsmouth. She knew Richie had applied to a lot of colleges and was so smart that he could probably go where he wanted, but she hoped that he would choose State, where she was hoping to go. It would be hard to go steady and be separated. She knew that she would remain faithful, but…There she went again. He hasn’t even asked you, dope, she thought. Then, again, she was sure, positive, he would. Wendy Blair was going with Frank Coppella and Frank played football with Richie and was his best friend and he had told Wendy that Richie had been thinking about it and Richie had been acting funny this week.

Elaine pulled herself up and sat down again in front of her dressing table. She applied eyeliner and mascara and turned her head back and forth. She thought that she was pretty. Not beautiful like Alice Fay, the queen of last year’s prom, but pretty. And there were plenty of boys who thought so, too. She was a cheerleader and had been a princess in Alice’s court, so she was no wallflower.

Elaine slipped on a pair of white panties and hooked up her bra. Then she put on tan toreador slacks and a white blouse. She pulled a red and black ski sweater over the blouse. It had been a funny winter, she mused. Here it was, just after Thanksgiving, and it was not all that cold. That was fine with Elaine. She never did like the cold weather.

Elaine doublechecked her blouse and noticed that one of the buttons was undone. As she rebuttoned it she felt a thrill of excitement. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Richie’s strong fingers unbuttoning the blouse, one button at a time. Very slowly and deliberately. Her mouth was suddenly dry and her stomach tight. Her nipples were growing taut beneath her bra and the friction between them and the cloth was not unpleasant.

Richie was a gentleman in every way, but he had the urges that all men had. Elaine had talked to her mother about sex and men. Her mother had told her to hold on to her virginity, because she would lose a man’s respect if she was too free. She had followed her mother’s advice even though it had been hard at times. Like when she was in Richie’s arms and he was caressing her breasts through her blouse. When he did that she just wanted to let him do it like he asked. But she was glad she had not given in yet. A woman’s body was a gift for the man she married. Her present to him. It would be so much better if they were married. And what her mother had said about respect was true. Look at the way the boys talked about Eleanor Strom behind her back and everyone knew how far you could get with her. But, tonight, she had made up her mind. Tonight, if he asked her to go steady, she would let him touch her breasts. It would only be fair and she would want him to have a reason to stay with her.

She looked at the clock. Holy cow, it was after eight and he would be here any minute. She slipped on a pair of tennis sneakers and looked at herself once more. Downstairs the doorbell was ringing.

Bobby Coolidge was standing in front of the mirror in the men’s room of Bob’s Hamburger Heaven, admiring himself. With great precision he raised the black plastic comb and drew it through his thick, greasy jet black hair. First, he swept the hair on the sides straight back. The hair on both sides of his head resembled wings and there was a little “tail” where the hair on each side joined behind his head. Bobby surveyed his work. A perfect duck’s ass if he had to say so himself. He twirled the curl that he had placed in the center of his forehead one more time. Presley never did it better, he thought.

“Lend me the comb when you’re through, greaseball,” his brother Billy said as he zipped the fly on his tight-fitting jeans.

“Just one second, man,” Bobby said. There had been a hair out of place on the left side of his head. He stepped back from the mirror and ran the comb through again. When he was satisfied, he rinsed off the comb and handed it to Billy.

Billy stepped in front of the mirror and Bobby leaned against the bathroom wall, taking a cigarette out of the pack he kept in one of the zippered pockets of his black leather jacket.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“What I don’t want to do is stick around this joint anymore tonight. That pussy Delores is giving me a pain.”

“The waitress with the pimples?”

Bobby nodded and Billy saw him in the mirror.

“The word’s out on her, Bobby. Harry Capri says she toots on the root.”

“Well, I got more class than Harry Capri. Do you ever see the pigs he goes out with?”

“Listen, Capri says she gives a hum job to the tune of Yankee Doodle and makes you come on the last note.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Billy shrugged.

“Would I lie to my own brother?”

“If she’s so hot, how come you ain’t made a play for her?”

“Too ugly. I save the ugly ones for you.”

Bobby laughed. He was lucky to have a brother who was also a good friend. The Coolidge brothers stuck together. They fought together. They screwed together. He smiled, took a drag on his cigarette and tried to picture Delores giving him a blow job. Nah, he couldn’t do it. Shit, he’d never be that horny.

Billy straightened up and handed Bobby his comb.

“You still didn’t answer me.”

“About what?”

“What to do.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “We could crash Alice Fay’s party.”

“She having a party?” Bobby asked with interest.

“That’s what Rog says. We can ask him when we get back to the table.”

Billy pushed open the bathroom door and they wound their way through the usual tables of squares and teeny-boppers to their table in the far corner of the restaurant. Roger Hessey and Esther Freemont were eating their hamburgers and Esther, as usual, was finishing an extra shake. Bobby absentmindedly scratched his crotch when he looked at Esther. She had big tits, and Bobby liked big tits, and she wasn’t bad looking, either. All the same, she fucked anything that walked and Bobby’s personal opinion was that a good-looking guy like Hessey could do a lot better for himself. Also, she was a pain. She had a crush on Bobby and was always making cow eyes at him and giving him the big come-on. Bobby knew he could fuck her if he wanted, but he knew a broad as dumb as Esther wouldn’t keep his interest long and he couldn’t hack the big scene he knew would happen when he told her to get lost. He was also a little nervous, because he knew that Esther had stabbed a guy at Stuyvesant High who had tried something funny when she wasn’t in the mood and he didn’t want any of that scene. Nah, all in all, it was best to leave Esther alone. Now Alice Fay or Elaine Murray-there was class. Too bad they were such stuck-up bitches. He’d sure like to pop one of them.

“Rog, didn’t you tell me that Alice Fay was having a party tonight?” Billy asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe Bobby and me would go.”

“You ain’t invited,” Roger said.

“I know that, asshole. That has nothing to do with whether we go or not.”

Roger shook his head.

“That’s just gonna mean trouble.”

Bobby grinned.

“You ain’t afraid of a little trouble, are you?”

“Shit no,” Roger said uneasily. “I just ain’t in the mood for it tonight.”

“Who says there has to be trouble?” Billy asked. “All I was thinkin’ of doing was going to a party. I ain’t gonna start any trouble.”

“One of those jocks will.”

“Jocks are basically candyasses, right, Bob?”

Bobby nodded in agreement.

“Well count me out,” Roger said.

“Oh, Rog, can’t we go? I never saw Alice Fay’s house,” Esther said.

“What do you want to see her house for. It’s just another spoiled rich kid’s house.”

“I know, but I’d like to. Couldn’t we, please?”

“I told you, I ain’t going to no fucking party where I ain’t been invited. Alice Fay has got her nose stuck up her ass anyway.”

“I know something I’d like to stick up her ass,” Billy said.

“You watch your mouth,” Esther said angrily. Billy just grinned.

“Look,” Billy said, “I’m crashing. Who’s gonna come with me?”

“Count me in,” Bobby said.

“I’m just going home,” Roger said.

“Can I come with you guys?” Esther pleaded.

Bobby looked at Billy. It would be a real pain to have to take Esther along, but, if they said yes, Roger would probably come so as not to lose face.

“Sure, Esther, come on.”

Roger looked at his plate.

“Ah, if you’re going, I’m coming.”

“Good. I knew you weren’t chicken.”

“Who’s chicken?” Roger bristled.

Bobby and Billy laughed.

“No one is chicken, man. We were just riding you.”

“Yeah, Rog. Everyone knows you’re a good man in a fight.”

“Almost as good as this,” Billy said and Bobby heard the familiar click as the long steel of Billy’s switchblade snapped out under the table. “The Old Equalizer,” Billy liked to call it and it had sure come in handy in the past. Bobby smiled as he remembered the time they had gone to the movies and the two niggers had sat down behind them and made all that noise. Bobby hated niggers. Bobby and Billy were Cobras and from time to time the Cobras would ride over to the nigger section of town and beat the shit out of one or two. But that time at the movies there had just been the two of them and these two noisy jig-aboos and Billy had asked them real polite to shut up, but they started with this wiseass jive and just kept making more noise and talking cool about white boys and one nigger leaned down next to Billy’s ear and whispered real low about how he was going to wait till the show was over and follow Billy outside and stomp him good. Bobby had started to turn, but he had felt Billy’s hand on his knee and had heard the sound of the blade being withdrawn from Billy’s pocket. The nigger’s lips were practically touching Billy’s ear and his nose was leaning down over Billy’s left shoulder. The nigger never saw the knife in the dark until it was too late. Billy brought it up real slow with his right hand and pressed the button. The tip of the blade had shot out just right, poking the tiniest hole in the tip of the nigger’s nose. The nigger had screamed in pain. Blood was pouring out of his nostril and Billy was up on his seat screaming. Those coons sure had run fast. Billy always ended the story by saying that it was the only time he ever saw a nigger turn white.

Esther was finishing her shake and Billy and Roger went over to the cashier and paid the bill. Bobby knew where Alice lived and Roger did not, so they decided that Roger and Esther would follow Bobby and Billy. Bobby felt good. He knew that something would happen tonight. He had that tingly feeling in his stomach that he would get when he was nervous, but cool. Like before a rumble or before he would start to put the make on some chick. The clock in the hamburger joint read eight fifty-five.

Richie Walters parked his ’55 Mercury next to the curb in front of Elaine Murray’s house. Before he got out, he checked his face in the rear view mirror. He had taken care of a pimple on the left side of his chin with Clearasil and he wanted to make sure that he had done a good job. The pimple was almost invisible under the flesh-colored cover-up. Richie smiled. He looked good. He had made a special effort to look good, because tonight was going to be a special night.

It was chilly out and Richie tucked his hands into the pockets of his letter jacket as he headed for the house. He felt funny: half elated, half depressed. He had never asked a girl to go steady before and the idea frightened him a little. For all his good looks and popularity, he was awkward with girls. He always felt that he was saying or doing the wrong thing when he was with them. Then he had started dating Elaine and everything had changed. He felt at ease with her. She thought his jokes were funny and his views incisive. And she responded to him sexually-to a point. That was the only problem they had. When he was kissing her or holding her, he lost control. Elaine would let him go so far and then stop. He knew she trusted him, because she let him go as far as she did, but he always left her with a mixture of fulfillment and frustration.

Going steady was a big step to take. He had thought about it for some time before deciding to ask Elaine. The biggest problem would arise next September. Richie was crazy about Elaine, but he knew that she was not as smart as he was. She had applied to State and a few other local colleges, whereas he had applied to mostly Ivy League and other eastern schools. State was his last choice and he did not really want to go there.

Richie did not think that he would have much trouble getting into a top school. He had excellent grades and he had letters in three sports, plus an honorable mention All-State as a halfback his junior year. Coach thought he would make first team this year and a few schools had already offered him athletic scholarships.

Richie had turned the athletic scholarships down. He wanted to play sports in college, but he was more interested in his education. He had listened hard to what John Kennedy had said during his campaign for the Presidency. Kennedy had talked a lot about public service and the disadvantaged. Richie felt that he had had all the breaks and he had decided that he wanted to help those who had not. He was not sure if he wanted to be a doctor or go into law or perhaps science. He was certain, though, that he wanted to work with, and help, people.

Richie rang the doorbell. He took a look at his high school ring. It would not be on his finger after tonight. That was, if Elaine accepted. For a second he felt a surge of fear. What if she rejected him? No, she wouldn’t. He was sure that she felt for him the same way that he felt for her.

Richie heard footsteps approaching from inside. He took a quick look at the sky. It was a beautiful clear night. There had been some rain earlier in the day, but the sky was unclouded and star-sprinkled now. He had certainly picked a romantic evening to ask Elaine to be his girl. He had planned how he would do it. First he would take her to the movies. Alice Fay had invited them to a party, but he felt that the movies would be more intimate.

After the movies, they would cruise downtown. Richie’s car was out of character for a boy who was basically introverted; but he loved it. He had customized it himself and it was the talk of the school. No one could touch it in a drag race.

Afterward, they would have something to eat. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Then he would drive her to Lookout Park and ask her to go steady.

The door opened and Mrs. Murray invited him in. He liked Mrs. Murray. She was always very cheerful. He told her how nice she looked and she thanked him and called upstairs for Elaine.

Myron Krauss was in town to sell hardware, but the market was lousy, he told everyone at the bar who would listen. Myron was forty-eight, fat and balding. He lived in Minneapolis with his wife and three children. After twenty-five years of marriage he found them all boring.

Myron was pretty boring himself. Maybe that was why no one was listening to him. After a while Myron even bored himself, so he decided to try another bar. He stumbled when he pushed himself off the red leather bar stool. He had to grab for support. “I’m a bit high,” he thought. He knew he wasn’t drunk, though. Myron was proud of the fact that he could hold his liquor.

When Myron lurched out into the cold night air, two young men in black leather jackets and tight blue jeans followed him. Both men had their hair combed back at the sides and forward in the center, until it curled in the middle of their foreheads, like Elvis Presley’s. The hair had been heavily greased and what little light there was in the bar reflected off it.

The wind gusted as the two men exited the bar. They pulled on leather gloves and followed after Myron at a fast pace. There was an alley a little bit ahead of the drunken salesman. The two men timed their actions perfectly. They reached Myron just as he reached the alley.

Ralph Pasante slammed both hands against Myron’s shoulder and Myron stumbled into the alley. Myron was too drunk to realize what was happening. His face registered puzzlement instead of fear. Willie Heartstone knew that his prey would react just this way from past experience. He hit the little man in his solar plexus. Myron grunted. He could not breathe. He thought he might die from lack of air and he opened his mouth wide and wheezed. Willie thought Myron looked like a fish. He let him wiggle around for a second before driving his knuckles into Myron’s nose as hard as he could. Willie felt bone crack and crumble and he saw blood gush out. That felt good. Ralph kicked Myron in the groin. Myron fell to his knees and his head bounced off the alley floor when it hit. Ralph stomped him once for fun. Then they went through the unconscious man’s pockets. When they had his wallet, watch, rings and small change, they ran out of the far end of the alley. Their car was four blocks away.

After they had driven a few blocks, they pulled over on a side street and Willie counted the money.

“How much?”

“A hundred and sixty bucks and change,” Willie said in a matter-of-fact tone. The muggings did not excite him like they used to, unless the victim put up a fight. Then he enjoyed it. He liked beating someone with spirit. It made him feel masterful. This punk tonight was a zero. Willie knew that he would not fight when he saw him flashing his roll at the bar.

“What do you want to do now?” Ralph asked.

Willie ran his tongue across his lips. The two beers he had had in the bar had made him loose and easy. While sitting and waiting for the fat man to leave, he had daydreamed about a woman: his dream woman. The one who came to him at night when he was alone. She was blond and long-legged and she always cowered on the floor before him. Sometimes he would beat her. Sometimes he would please her.

“I don’t know,” Willie answered casually. “We could cruise downtown. It’s almost ten-thirty. The movies’ll be letting out.”

Ralph smiled. He knew what Willie was thinking. Friday night movies meant unattached high school snatch. Willie headed for downtown Portsmouth.

Bobby Coolidge stopped the car in the yard of Alice Fay’s house. Alice lived in a modern, three-story stone house which was located on several acres of Portsmouth’s wealthiest suburb. Her folks were in Hawaii on vacation, so Alice had the house to herself. Bobby and Billy checked their hair in the car mirror. Bobby could hear the sound of a rock band vibrating the night air and he could see the silhouettes of people talking and dancing inside the house. He told Billy to hurry up and Billy zipped up his jacket.

Roger’s car pulled up behind them and they walked up to the porch. Bobby knew that the four of them would not be welcome, but he didn’t give a shit. Most of the people at the party would be candyasses. Jocks, brains. In general, squares. He knew the squares felt uneasy in his presence. He enjoyed that.

Bobby pounded on the front door and a boy in a white shirt and chinos opened it. When the boy saw who had knocked, he looked nervous. The boy was Arnie Klaus, a jock. Arnie looked strong, but, like most jocks, he was chicken when it came to a fight. A year ago, when Arnie was a freshman, Billy had made him cough up a quarter for protection. Billy had outgrown that phase, but Arnie still avoided both Coolidges.

“Hi, Arnie,” Billy said politely. “Good party?”

“Yeah, Bob,” Arnie answered, a little too enthusiastically.

The four of them drifted into a corner of the room. They had noticed the buzz that had accompanied their entrance. It gave Bobby and Billy satisfaction.

The living room was big. Alice’s family had plenty of dough. Everyone looked freshly scrubbed and fashionably casual. Bobby hated them. He tried not to brood on it, but he felt that it was so unfair that these snotnose punks should have it all, while he and Billy had to work so hard for everything they had ever gotten. It had been like that ever since their father had died. Both of them holding down jobs after school. Living poor. Watching their mother drink herself away.

Billy scanned the room. He stopped when he saw Alice Fay and Tommy Cooper standing near the punch bowl. Alice was going steady with Tommy. Tommy had his arm around her shoulder as if he owned her. Billy felt a mixture of anger and despair. It was not right that he should have no chance with a girl like Alice. She was tall and slender with large breasts. Her eyes sparkled and her teeth were perfect. She was perfection. At night, Billy fantasized about her. But it was just a dream and he knew that it could never come true. Alice and her friends were rich. They would graduate high school and go on to college. Bobby and Billy were nothings in their eyes. Their futures were obscure and gray.

Tommy Cooper told a joke and Alice laughed. Billy hated Cooper. He was a jock and a brain. He was tall. His black hair was cropped in a crew cut and his skin seemed tanned even in winter. He wore his letter sweater proudly over a plaid shirt and tan chinos. He looked relaxed and at ease in white socks and loafers.

Bobby noticed the way his brother was looking at Alice. Billy had never told him, but he knew about Billy’s crush on her.

“That Alice is all right,” Bobby said.

“She’s okay.”

“I’d sure like to get me some of that, hey, Rog?”

Roger leered.

“Cut that out,” Esther said. “We shouldn’t even be here, so don’t cause any trouble.”

Arnie had walked over to Tommy and Alice while they had been talking. Arnie said something and motioned in their direction. Cooper turned toward them and scowled.

“I don’t like that prick,” Billy said.

“Me neither,” said Bobby.

“You want to have some fun?”

“Hey, I told you I didn’t want no trouble,” Roger said uneasily. “Besides, we’re outnumbered.”

“I didn’t say anything about trouble, Roger,” Billy said, grinning. “I said ‘fun.’”

“Billy, I know you. Look, Esther, I don’t feel right being here. I’m going home.”

Esther looked at Roger and at Billy and Bobby. Roger was her boyfriend, but he was acting like a coward.

“Let’s stay, Roger. Please.”

“I told you no. Now come on.”

“You never want to have fun. I want to stay.”

“Well I don’t.”

Roger started for the door. Esther went after him. They were talking in angry undertones as they went out the door. Five minutes later Esther came back in. She was crying. “Oh, shit,” Bobby thought. Now they were stuck with Esther for the evening. Roger and Esther were always having fights. They usually ended with Roger slapping her around and Esther crying.

“That bastard left me,” Esther whimpered.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you home,” Bobby said. He was watching Cooper carefully. Cooper had gone over to a couple of the bigger boys in the room and they were talking in the corner.

“I think I’ll get some punch,” Billy said.

Bobby followed his brother over to the refreshment table. His brother filled a glass of punch and munched some potato chips. The people at the table ignored them. There were a few comments made in guarded tones.

Bobby noticed Cooper approaching. He was having second thoughts about what they were doing. He had been in a fighting mood all day, but now that it looked like they were going to get into it, he didn’t like the odds.

“Hi, Alice,” Billy said.

“Hello, Billy,” Alice answered stiffly.

“Nice party.”

Alice forced a smile and walked off. Tommy Cooper talked to her in low tones. There were four guys behind him. Bobby knew two of them from school. He did not know the other two. They looked tough.

Alice looked upset. Bobby heard her say something about “no trouble” and he saw Tommy and the others push past her and head in their direction.

“Alice said she didn’t invite you, Coolidge.”

Billy was refilling his punch glass and he purposely kept his back to Cooper.

“I guess she didn’t. We just heard that there was a party and decided to drop by.”

“Well, why don’t you just drop out.”

Billy turned. He was smiling. Bobby had seen that smile before and he moved his body sideways so as to make himself tough to hit.

“Why don’t you just fuck off?”

Cooper looked uncertain of his next move. The noise in the room had stopped.

“Now look here…” Cooper started to say. One of the two boys that Bobby did not know had moved beside Tommy. He was Billy and Bobby’s size, about six two, and he looked lean and muscular. His hair was crew cut and he resembled Cooper. The other stranger was taller than the Coolidges, but he was fat and looked out of shape.

“Let’s cut the talk,” the boy who looked like Tommy said. “I’ve heard enough from this little fart. Now you two get out or I’ll kick your ass out.”

“You better listen, Billy. This is my brother. He’s on leave from the service.”

Billy’s boot caught Tommy’s brother in the groin. As he folded, Bobby hit him in the temple with a right. The boys standing with Tommy were too shocked to move. Billy had counted on this and he smashed the punch glass into Tommy Cooper’s face and hit him in the stomach.

The fat boy was the first to react. He was deceptively fast and he put his bulk behind a right that exploded against Billy’s head, knocking him backward across the refreshment table. Bobby hit the fat man, but the punch had no effect and two other boys had him down before he could move. They were not hitting him. They were just holding him.

“He’s got a knife,” someone screamed. Bobby could not see much from the floor. The fat boy moved into his line of vision and he heard his brother yell,

“Come on, motherfucker, and I’ll cut you wide open.”

“Stop this,” Alice Fay was yelling.

“Let my brother go and we’ll leave this shithole.”

“Let him up,” Alice said and the two boys that were holding Bobby rolled off.

Billy was standing with his back to the table with the knife in his hand. The fat boy had a broken Coke bottle.

“Let’s get out of here,” Bobby said. The crowd moved away from the door and they edged out. Esther was already on the porch. She looked terrified.

People were filing onto the porch as they moved toward their car. Esther climbed in back and Billy drove off. Billy’s face was tight. Bobby could see a pulse throbbing in Billy’s temple.

“The bastards,” Billy said in a taut, clipped voice. “Just once I want to be treated like a human being by those cocksucking sons of bitches.”

“You were looking for it…” Esther started.

Billy jammed on the brakes and whirled in his seat. He held a rigid finger in front of Esther’s startled eyes.

“Just shut your mouth or I’ll ram a fist down it. You’d love to be one of those goody goodies, wouldn’t you? Well, they’re nothing but a bunch of leeches, living off of daddy’s money. Not one of them is worth the shit off of my asshole. And someday…”

His voice trailed off into the darkness. The illuminated hands of the dashboard clock read ten twenty-five.

Elaine Murray checked her hair and lipstick one final time and left the ladies’ room of the Paramount Theater. She had been grateful for the excuse to leave Richie for a few moments. She needed the time to catch her breath. She felt as if she was floating and giddy.

Elaine could hardly remember the movie. All she could remember was Richie’s strong arms around her and the passion of his kisses. They had gone to the last row of the balcony and the movie had barely started when she felt him slide his arm behind her shoulders.

The movie was Midnight Lace with Doris Day and Rex Harrison. It was a thriller and it took place in London. It got tense and she moved as close to Richie as she could. Then he had been kissing her and she had kissed back, letting him slip his hand inside her sweater.

Their tongues had touched and she could feel his fingers caressing her nipples through her bra. She had lost control.

It was near the end of the movie when he had whispered that he loved her. She had almost cried. Then the lights had come on. She told him that she wanted to freshen up. Inside the ladies’ room, she sat in a stall until she was relaxed enough to go out again.

Richie was waiting in the lobby. He felt happy and unsure of what to say now that he had said what was in his heart. Elaine took his hand and they walked out of the theater. The sidewalks were crowded with Friday-night strollers and the streets were jammed with souped-up cars that raced their engines and honked at each other. Downtown Portsmouth was the place to be seen on Friday and Saturday nights.

Richie and Elaine walked slowly despite the chill in the air. A group of boys were standing beside Richie’s car. Elaine recognized Matt Shaw and Rudy Pegovich. They said hello and talked for a bit. Elaine wished they would leave. Soon Richie said so long and opened her door. She felt proud to sit in Richie’s car. It was the talk of the school. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew that the engine was powerful and that other cars could not beat it. He had dragged with her in the car several times and she had always been thrilled by the car’s speed and Richie’s daring.

As the car pulled into traffic, she snuggled up against him.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied dreamily.

Richie was stimulated by the softness of her voice. He reached his right hand around her shoulder and drove with his left. He kissed her when they stopped for the light.

“Do you want to drive up to Lookout Park?” he asked, knowing what her answer would be.

She did not say anything. Instead, she snuggled closer. Richie turned off the main downtown drag and headed for Monroe Boulevard. Monroe led out of the city to a large wooded area in the hills that was called Lookout Park by the City Park Commission and Lovers’ Lane by everyone else. The park was large and sprawling, with several secluded areas that were used for picnics in the daytime and making out at night.

“It’s so beautiful tonight, Richie,” she said.

He wanted to tell her that he thought she was beautiful, but he could not. As intimate as they had been, he still felt tongue-tied. He had had so little experience with girls and he was afraid of saying the wrong thing or saying the right thing in a way that would sound phony. Gasping out “I love you” in the theater had taken an effort equal to anything he had ever put out on the football field. When she had accepted his profession of love without rebuke, he had felt like shouting through the theater.

He tightened his arm around her for a second and she melted against him, giving him a peck on the cheek. He shifted slightly and felt the contraceptive pushing against his buttocks from its position in his wallet. He had purchased a package of Trojans from a smirking pharmacist at a shopping center near his house. He had never done that before and it had been a nerve-wracking experience.

When he thought about the contraceptives, he wondered why he even bothered. Elaine was too nice a girl to go all the way. But what if she did. He wanted to do it with her so much that his body ached each time they made out. So far she had kept him off with affectionate but firm nos. But that was before they were going steady. Would that change now?

Richie was half afraid of what he would do if it did. He had only been with one other girl. There was a party after they had won the Division Championship last year. One of the girls had gotten drunk and he and three other boys had had sex with her. He had not done so well, coming almost as soon as he touched her. It had not been what he had expected. He was sure that sex would be different with someone he loved.

Monroe Boulevard was deserted this time of night. Richie and Elaine did not notice the car that pulled alongside at the traffic light until it raced its engine. There were two men in the front seat and a girl in the back. Elaine could not see their faces clearly. When the light changed, the car squealed its tires and raced ahead. Richie smiled at Elaine. He was grateful for the distraction. The car had stopped at the next light even though it was green. Richie pulled alongside and the light turned red.

Elaine squeezed the muscle of Richie’s right arm and then moved over to give him room. She adored him when he was like this. He sat straight-backed, leaning slightly forward from the waist. His right hand gripped the shift lightly. His face was a picture of intense concentration.

The light changed. Both cars seemed to leap forward. Tires squealed. They floated side by side. Neither appeared to be moving. Then the Mercury pulled ever so slightly ahead.

The stretch of Monroe Boulevard ahead of them was flat and had no traffic lights for several blocks. The other car lost more ground and then sped up, pulling even. Richie pushed the accelerator toward the floor. They were gaining. And then the other car was veering into them. There was a grinding of metal and the Mercury lurched sideways.

Elaine screamed and Richie fought for control.

“The bastards,” Richie swore when they had evened out.

“What happened?”

“That son of a bitch rammed us. I’ll show him who he’s playing with.”

The other car had gained considerable ground, but it seemed to have slowed, as if daring Richie to catch it. Elaine had never seen Richie so grim.

“Don’t chase them, Richie. Let them go. Please.”

“No one does that to me, Elaine.”

The Mercury was pulling even again and as it drew alongside the other car swerved into their lane. Richie reacted in time, pulling to the side, then cutting back into the other lane. Elaine screamed and there was the sound of metal grinding again. This time the other car went into a skid. It hit a wet patch of pavement and spun sideways. The driver fought for control and the car fishtailed toward the sidewalk. Elaine watched open-mouthed through the rear window as the car bounced off a telephone pole and then screeched to a stop, facing the way it had come. Richie gave the Mercury more gas to widen the distance between the two cars. Elaine could see a figure in tight jeans and a black leather jacket getting shakily out of the car.

Richie started to laugh and she laughed too. It was a release of tension and it sounded hysterical for a moment.

“Did you see that guy fishtail?” Richie asked.

She kissed him for an answer. Her heart swelled with pride at being Richie’s girl.

They rode through the hills until they found a place to park. There was a dirt side road off one of the paved roads that twisted through the park. The dirt road ended in a meadow surrounded by evergreens. Richie pulled the car to the far end of the field. He switched off the lights, but left the heater on. With the headlights off, the only illumination was the pale glow of starlight.

Elaine had taken her coat off when the car had heated up and she had put it on the back seat. Richie looked at her and she did not trust herself to speak. Her heart was thumping and Richie looked as nervous as she felt.

“Elaine, I asked you out for a special reason, tonight,” he said, the way he had practiced it. They were facing each other and he had placed his hand over hers. The sound of his own voice sounded strange and the words he was saying sounded terribly stilted.

“Elaine, do you…do you want to go steady?”

There! He had said it. Elaine thought that her heart would burst. She could not speak. Instead, she threw her arms around him and began to cry. He kissed her and she opened her mouth. Their tongues met.

When they parted, Richie slipped the ring off and gave it to her. She held it and turned it in her hand. He stroked her cheek with his hand and drew her to him. This time his kisses were gentle. She felt herself sliding down on the front seat and she could feel his hand move under her sweater and cup her breast. She arched her back and stroked his neck and ear.

He was unbuttoning her blouse and she did not resist as she always had before. Richie was breathing hard. He managed the buttons without fumbling. She was completely relaxed, accepting him.

He had the blouse undone now and he was caressing her nipple through the bra. His hand worked around her back and she moved slightly to assist him. He was elated and she was afraid and calm at the same time. No man had ever touched her naked breast before. She was terrified of the effect that his strong hands might have on her, yet she longed for him to cup and stroke her. To love her.

He was murmuring his love for her. Kissing her earlobes with the tip of his tongue. Her hand wandered down his leg, terrified of what she knew she would find there. He moved his weight and she touched it suddenly through his pants. It was large and hard. Her fingers pressed it gingerly, drawing back like startled fawns.

The bra was unhooked and she was aware of his fingers exploring the hard tip of her nipple. She was flooded by strange emotions. His penis was so hard and big. If she let him put it inside her, would she feel rending pain? She did not care. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to be driven insane by him, like the women in the books. She felt him loosening her pants.

“No,” she said instinctively, pressing her hand on his.

“I love you,” he said and she felt his fingers entwine with hers. His lips were kissing the hand that had tried to restrain him. His hand was on her stomach and below. Questing. Caressing her vagina through her panties. She was moaning now. Wanting it. Willing to do anything for him.

“What was that?”

He was sitting bolt upright, staring through the rear window. Her eyes snapped open, startled.

“There’s someone out there,” he whispered.

She was frightened. From her position on the car seat she could only see the car roof. She heard Richie opening the car door and felt a blast of cold air.

“Richie, don’t leave me,” she whispered.

“I’ll be right back.”

The door closed quietly. Her clothes were in disarray. There were tires crunching dirt and gravel nearby. She could hear it now. There was another car door opening and footsteps coming toward the car.

She fumbled with her pants. Richie was outside the car. The interior light was on, because the door had not shut completely. She was in a panic. She could not have anyone see her like this. She struggled with her bra, still lying down so that she would not be seen.

There were voices shouting angrily. One of them was Richie’s. Her bra was fastened and she tried to button her blouse. A button popped and she cursed. Someone was grunting. No. More than one person. She struggled with the buttons. They would not fit. She wanted to see, but she could not sit up looking like this. Anyone would know what…The car shook with the impact and she could see Richie’s back blocking the rear side window. Then it was gone, lunging into the darkness. She sat up. The interior light made it difficult to see into the dark. She reached for the door to close it and Richie screamed. She froze and Richie screamed again. There was the sound of men grunting from exertion and someone swearing. She slammed the door tight. Richie was kneeling and there were two men in black leather jackets standing over him. One man kept raising and lowering his arm and Richie kept screaming.

She had to get out. She had to get away. She looked for the keys, but they were not in the ignition. Someone was yelling in the dark. Someone was rushing toward the car. She turned to her left and screamed. There was a face pressing against the window. Fists pounding on the door. The glass on the other side shattered and she whirled around. An arm clothed in black leather was groping like some obscene spider for the door handle. She curled in a fetal position against the driver’s door. She gripped the steering wheel and stared wide-eyed.

“Please. No, please,” she whimpered.

The passenger door swung open.