The Lonely Lady (8 page)

“What’s it about?”

“It’s about a girl like me. About growing up in a town like this.”

“Can I read it when you’re finished?”

“It may not be finished for a long time. There are too many things I have to learn before I can begin to write about them.”

“I understand that,” Martin said. “Hemingway says the best writing comes from gut experience.”

“I don’t like Hemingway. He knows nothing about women. He seems not to care about them at all.”

“Who do you like?”

“Fitzgerald. At least he feels for the women characters in his books as much as he does for the men.”

“To me, all of his men seem strange, weak sort of,” Martin said after a moment. “They seem to be afraid of women.”

“Funny. I think that about Hemingway. His men always seem to me more afraid of women because they are always trying to prove themselves as men.”

“I have to think about that,” he said, getting to his feet. “Now I’d better be getting home.”

“Everything all right there now?” she asked. They had long since dropped pretenses and she was openly inquiring about the problems he had with his parents.

“A little better,” he said. “At least they’re not drinking as much now that Dad’s got that job at the gas station.”

“I’m glad.” She rose from the chair. “Good night.”

Martin stood looking at her without moving.

She touched her cheek self-consciously. “Is there anything wrong?”

“No.”

“Then what are you staring at?”

“You know I never realized it before. You really are very beautiful.”

Another time she might have smiled but there was a sincerity in his voice that moved her. “Thank you,” she said simply.

“Very beautiful,” he repeated, then he smiled and ran down the steps. “Good night, JeriLee,” he called.

Bit by bit JeriLee’s popularity was growing. There was something in her that seemed to attract friends. Boys and girls alike. Maybe it was because she dealt with each of them on their own terms and within their own frame of reference. At the same time she was still a very private person. In the end they liked to talk to her because they all felt that she really listened.

Once the season was in full swing, the club stayed open every night for dinner and there was a dance on Wednesdays as well as on Fridays and Saturdays. Since it became impractical for the musicians to return to the city every night, Mr. Corcoran put them up in a small cottage out in the back of the tennis courts. The back of the cottage faced out on the parking lot, so they did not have to come through the club in order to get to the bandstand.

JeriLee, who now worked late on Wednesday nights, was on the terrace railing sipping a Coke and talking to Fred between sets when Walt came out the terrace doors.

“JeriLee,” he said, ignoring Fred completely.

It had been more than a month since that night at his house and this was the first time he had spoken to her.

“Yes?”

“I have some friends down from school and we’re getting up a beach party. I thought you might like to join us.”

JeriLee looked at Fred. There was no expression on his face. She turned back to Walt. “Do you know Fred?”

“Yes. Hello, Fred.”

“Waltuh,” Fred’s voice was as expressionless as his face.

“It’ll be fun,” Walt said. “And if the Sound is too cold, there’s always the pool at my house.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I have to be here early tomorrow. I’m working lunch.”

“Come on, JeriLee. We won’t be too late. We’ll just have a few drinks and a few laughs, that’s all.”

“No, thank you,” she said politely. “As a matter of fact I was thinking of leaving early. There’s still time for me to catch the eleven thirty bus.”

“You don’t have to do that. We can drop you off at your house.”

“I don’t want to trouble you. It’s out of your way.”

“Not much. Besides it’s no trouble.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll get the guys,” Walt said and went back into the cocktail lounge.

Fred looked at her. “You got a thing for that boy?”

JeriLee thought for a moment. “I thought I did. But not now.”

“He’s angry with you,” Fred said.

She was puzzled. “How do you know?”

“I feel it. But I could be wrong. He also don’t like me much. But that might be because he don’t like black folk in general.”

“I hope you’re wrong. He might be a little spoiled but I wouldn’t want to think that about him.”

It was time for the orchestra to go back to work. Fred looked at her. “See you on the weekend?”

“Sure.” She nodded. “Sing pretty for the people.”

He smiled. “I always do.”

“Good night, Fred.”

“Night, JeriLee.”

The sound of music began to drift through the doors just as Walt came out.

“Okay, JeriLee. Let’s go.” He started down the terrace steps. “We can cut across here to the parking lot.”

“What about your friends?”

“They already went to the car with Marian Daley.”

She followed him down the steps and they crossed the tennis courts to the parking lot. She could hear the laughter coming from his car. “Sure I wouldn’t be spoiling anything?” she asked. “I can still make the bus. I don’t mind.”

“I said it was okay, didn’t I?” He sounded annoyed.

“Okay,” she said.

Silently they walked the rest of the way to the car. It was an open convertible. Marian and two boys were already in the back seat. “What took you so long?” one of the boys called as they came up.

“I had to sign the bar check,” Walt said. He opened the door of the car. “Fellows, this is JeriLee. JeriLee, Joe and Mike Herron. They’re brothers. You now Marian.”

JeriLee nodded. “Hi.”

Marian seemed cool, but both boys smiled and one of them held a bottle up to JeriLee. “Join the party,” he said. “Have a drink.”

“No, thank you,” JeriLee said.

“I’ll have one,” Walt said. He took the bottle and held it to his mouth. He took a long swallow, then handed the bottle back to the boy. “That’s good rum.”

“It should be.” The boy laughed. “Your father has nothing but the best.”

Walt closed the door and got in behind the wheel. He started the motor and gunned the car out of the parking lot. They turned down the highway in the direction that led away from her house.

JeriLee looked at him. “We’re going the wrong way.”

“I thought I’d drop them off before I took you home,” he said.

She didn’t answer. A sound of laughter came from the back seat. She turned around. Both boys were trying to unbutton Marian’s blouse and she was giggling while slapping their hands away. “Not fair.” She laughed. “It’s two against one.”

JeriLee turned back in the seat. She glanced at the speedometer. The needle was up around seventy. “Better slow down,” she said. “The highway patrol is on the road tonight.”

“I can handle them,” Walt said grimly.

There was no sound from the back seat now. She glanced into the rearview mirror. Marian seemed to have disappeared. Involuntarily she turned and looked into the back seat. Marian had her head in Joe’s lap. It was a moment before she realized what the girl was doing. She was holding Joe’s penis in her hand and taking it in her mouth.

She turned back quickly, a curiously sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Somehow she knew this was not the way it should be. She knew what girls and boys did in cars but this was not at all what she had imagined. She couldn’t wait until Walt dropped them off and took her home.

Walt pulled the car into the driveway and cut the motor. “Okay,” he said. “Everybody out.” He opened his door and came around to her side.

“You said you were going to take me home.”

“I will,” he said. “What’s the big deal? Last time you couldn’t wait.”

“Last time was different. You were different.”

Marian and the two boys were out of the car. “Come on.” Marian laughed. “Don’t be a party pooper.”

“Just one drink, then I’ll take you home. I promise,” Walt said.

Reluctantly she got out of the car and followed them into the house. They went right through to the pool. With a loud whoop the boys dropped their clothes and dived into the water. “It’s great,” Mike shouted. “Come on in.”

She turned, looking for Walt. She saw a light go on in the house as he went into the kitchen. A moment later music came from the portable radio on the table near the pool. Marian was dancing by herself to the music.

Walt came out with a tray of Cokes and a bucket of ice. He picked up the bottle of rum near the radio and quickly mixed the drinks. He held one toward Marian. She took it and began to drink it quickly. He held one out to JeriLee.

“No, thank you.”

“You’re not much fun, are you?”

“I’m sorry. I told you I wanted to go right home.”

“Well, you can damn well wait until I have a drink,” he said angrily, raising his glass.

“Come on, JeriLee,” Marian said. “Don’t be a pill. You’re among friends.”

“No, thank you,” she said again. She started toward the house.

Walt put a hand on her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I can get the bus on the highway,” she said levelly.

“I said I’d take you home,” he snapped. “Isn’t my word good enough for you?”

Before she could answer him, she felt a pair of hands grab her ankles and her feet went out from under her as she was dragged into the pool. She came up sputtering and angry and striking out at the boy nearest her.

“She wants to play,” she heard one of the boys say. Then two pairs of hands grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down into the water again. She tried to wriggle free and she felt her dress rip as their hands caught her. Then she went under again. She came up gasping and held on to the side of the pool.

She looked up at Walt through eyes burning with tears. “Please take me home,” she cried.

“I will,” he said, raising the glass to his lips. “As soon as your clothes are dry.”

Chapter 10

Bernie came up to Fred on the terrace. “Is JeriLee out here?”

“No.”

“If you see her, tell her that her father called. He wants her to bring home a quart of ice cream.” Bernie started back.

Fred stopped him. “When did he call?”

“Just now. I picked it up in the bar.”

“That’s funny. How long does it take from here to her house?”

“About ten minutes by car, half hour by bus.”

“Then she should have been home by now. She left more than an hour ago.” A curious feeling of dread came over him. “You know where the Thornton kid lives?”

“On the other side of the Point. Why?”

“He was supposed to drop her off home. But he was higher than a kite and so were his two friends. I saw them inside knocking back rum and Cokes like water. He wanted her to join him at a beach party but she said she wanted to go home.”

Bernie stared at him. “I saw Marian Daley leave with those two boys. She was trying to get another girl to go with them but the girl wouldn’t.”

“I don’t like it. JeriLee should have been home by now.” He looked at Bernie. “You got a car?”

The two boys stared at each other. “I’ll get the keys and meet you in the parking lot,” Bernie said.

***

She was crying, lying huddled and naked on the grass beside the pool, trying to cover herself. She sensed a movement and looked up.

Joe was bending over her. “Stop bawling,” he said in an annoyed voice. “It isn’t as if you never did this before.”

“I never—”

“You did,” he said positively. “Walt told us about the time you came here with him.”

“Nothing happened,” she cried. “Honest, nothing happened.”

“You never stop lying, do you?” He turned and shouted at Walt. “You better get over here and do something about this cunt or I’m goin’ to belt her.”

Walt came up. He still had a glass in his hand and was weaving. “Come on, JeriLee,” he said in a placating voice. “We just want to have a little fun. Take a drink of this. It’ll make you feel better.”

“No.”

There was a sound from the other side of the pool. Joe turned around. “Well lookee over there.” He laughed.

She looked across the pool. Marian and his brother were coupled on the ground. She could see the frenzied movements of the boy, and the moaning sounds they made echoed in the night.

“Ain’t that pretty?” Joe asked. “They’re makin’ it. How about comin’ off your high horse and we can have a real party?”

She didn’t answer.

Joe got angry. “Then what the hell did you come out here for, you fucking cockteaser?” he shouted.

“I didn’t!” she cried, suddenly realizing that Walt had not told them she was going home, that he never intended to take her home. She turned to Walt. “Tell them, please. I didn’t—”

Joe knelt by her side and grabbed her hair. He forced her head back. “Gimme the drink,” he snapped. He took the drink from Walt and, forcing her mouth open by bending her head back, poured the drink down her throat.

She began to choke and gasp. The sticky sweet liquid ran down her cheeks, spilling across her shoulders and breasts. He didn’t stop until the glass was empty. Then he threw it away. JeriLee heard it breaking against the concrete.

He put his face close to her. “Now, you goin’ to cooperate an’ be nice or am I goin’ to have to get rough with you?”

Her eyes widened. She tried to hold her breath. “Please, let me go. Please.”

He moved suddenly, throwing his weight against her, pushing her flat on the ground with his body. His fingers sank into her breasts as he tried to kiss her.

She thrashed wildly, trying to turn her face to avoid him. Involuntarily she brought her knee up to his groin.

A grunt of pain escaped him. “Bitch!” he yelled. Angrily he slapped her face with his open palm. “You hold her,” he shouted up at Walt. “No bitch is gonna try to knee my balls an’ get away with it.”

Walt stood there indecisively.

“Hold her!” Joe snarled. “Time she got what’s comin’ to her.”

Walt dropped to one knee, pinning her arms to the ground. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain on her breast. She cried out.

Joe raised the lighted cigarette. He was smiling. “You didn’t like that, did you?”

She stared back at him, unable to speak. He moved swiftly. The scorching pain burned into her other breast. She screamed.