Authors: Andrew Neiderman
I
HEARD HIM GET UP VERY EARLY IN THE MORNING AND
quietly leave her room. I lay there looking up at the ceiling, listening to him descend the stairs and open and close the front door. He had a distinct clip-clop because of that leg and the resultant limp. After a while the door between my room and Ursula's opened slowly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see it moving, but I kept looking up. She stepped quietly into my room, holding a small blanket to her naked body.
“Leon? Are you awake?”
“Yeah, I'm awake.” I didn't look at her. She moved a little closer to me.
“How do you feel? You had a lot to drink last night.”
“OK.” I looked at her. Her right breast was entirely visible. I turned back on my side and faced the wall. She moved up to my bed and sat at my feet.
“You sort of passed out on us.”
“I know. Pin told me.”
“I thought you'd end up sleeping down there all night.”
“No, you didn't,” I said sharply.
“Yes, I did. I would have been sure to close the door completely otherwise.” I turned and looked at her. “I mean it.”
“Don't bullshit me, Ursula. You never could and you never will.”
“What do you mean?” she said straightening up and looking as innocent as she could. What an actress, I thought. I almost broke out laughing in her face.
“You did that deliberately. You just wanted me to hear and see you having inter ⦠screwing,” I said. I felt a great sense of liberation using the word.
“What's the difference?” she said. “I would have told you all about it anyway.” She dropped the blanket and played with her hair, pulling it back behind her head and looking across the room at the mirror above the dresser. Her breasts, pulled upward by the lifting of her arms above her shoulders, became firm and full-looking. I was amazed at her blatantly indifferent attitude. “You haven't seen too many girls built like me, have you, Leon?”
“A few.”
“Who?”
“What's the difference?”
“I was just wondering, that's all. You know,” she said, turning away and looking back toward her own
bedroom, “once during the night I touched the wooden part of his leg and I got the craziest sensation.”
“What do you mean by craziest sensation?”
“It's hard to explain. It was almost like, like touching Pin,” she said blushing. “You know, the way ⦠the way we used to.”
“So? I don't understand why that would be a crazy sensation,” I said quickly, in a harsh tone of voice.
“Nothing. It's too hard to explain what I mean, I guess.”
“So don't start talking about it then.” I felt myself growing more and more irritable by the moment.
“I'm sorry. We all had a great time, though. Stan really likes you.”
“I'll bet.”
“He does, and he thinks your poem is great.”
“Yeah. Why didn't he stay for breakfast? He wasn't afraid to face me after a night in your bed, was he?”
“Don't be ridiculous. He just had to get back, that's all. He's coming around later this afternoon. I was thinking we'd take a ride up to Sam's Point.”
“Sam's Point. Only tourists go there. You gotta pay to look off a mountaintop.”
“I know. But I just couldn't think of anyplace else to go. It does have a great view, doesn't it?”
“How would I know?”
“You went parking up there once. I think it was with Debbie Wall, don't you remember?”
“I don't remember. I might have.”
“You did,” she said. She turned around and poked me in the ribs. “You gonna get up or sleep all day?”
“I'll get up, I'll get up. Just whip up some breakfast and you'll see,” I said. She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.
“What's that for?”
“For being so nice to Stan,” she whispered. “I knew you would be.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Hey, maybe you could call someone up and we could make it a double date.”
“To Sam's Point? Forget it.”
“It was just a thought. I bet it would be fun. Don't you get the Need anymore?”
I turned and looked at her. She had a very serious, almost motherly expression on her face.
“Not any more than usual.”
“It's funny,” she said, “but I always felt guilty having sex. Not because I thought it was wrong or anything like that, but because I felt bad that you weren't having any at the same time. It's hard to explain.”
“That's ridiculous.”
“I know, but I feel it nevertheless.”
“Go on, go down and make breakfast. Make a couple of sexy poached eggs.” She laughed and stood up.
“I really wish you'd seriously consider going along with us.”
“It's out of the question. Stop worrying about me. I'll be all right.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I'm sure. What are you getting at?”
“Nothing. OK. Come on down in about ten minutes.”
I watched her walk out of the room and then I turned back to the wall. I lay there thinking no real
thoughts. Finally I got up and took a shower. When I looked out of my bedroom window afterward, I saw that a light snow had begun. It got heavier as we ate breakfast.
“If it keeps up like this, you'd better stay away from Sam's Point. That's a steep incline and there are many windy turns. It's dangerous traveling, even for a man with two good legs.”
“Where can we go?”
“Don't go anywhere. Why do you have to go anywhere?”
“I just thought we should take a ride.”
“Do what you want. Pin's still asleep?”
“I guess so. Don't you know?”
“I just assumed he was,” I said. I called to him. He was awake, so I brought him in for some coffee. He'd only drink a little, but that's all he required in the morning.
I was upstairs when Stan arrived. I heard Ursula let him in. As I started down, I heard the beginning of their conversation. I stopped because it was all about me.
“Ursula, it's far worse than you described. You've got to be kiddin' me and yourself as well. This is no silly little situation. He's as loony as can be.”
“Oh, no, really ⦔
“I mean, I don't believe he functions as well as you say he does.”
“But he does. He handles all our finances. I'd be lost without him. I even turn my check over to him every two weeks and he does all the banking and investing.”
“For Christ sakes ⦔ There was a pause and then I heard Stan laugh and say, “Hello, Pin. How
are you, Pin? Feel kind of stiff, do you? Pip, pip, old Pin.”
“Shh, stop it, Stan. He's liable to hear you. Please,” she said, but she laughed. She sounded like she was being tickled.
I stood there for a moment more, feeling as though someone had slapped me sharply on the face. Ursula conniving against me? It can't be. But then I remembered how matter-of-factly Stan had reacted to Pin and Pin's cold stare. Ursula must have prompted him. This was a conspiracy. It still is, I thought. She brought him here to destroy my relationship with Pin. My hand got numb very quickly. I lifted it from the bannister and slapped it hard against the side of my leg. I welcomed the stinging sensation. Then I took some deliberately heavy steps and they got very quiet in the living room.
“Hi, Leon,” Stan said as I entered. “Feeling better?”
“I wasn't feeling sick. You ready for some chess?” I shouted to Pin, deliberately ignoring Ursula.
“Why shouldn't I be ready?”
“We're going to try Sam's Point anyway,” Ursula said.
“Go ahead, but don't call me if you end up hanging off a cliff or get stuck in a ditch,” I said, and walked to the chess set. I didn't turn back when they both said good-bye. Ursula said good-bye to Pin.
“Yes,” Stan said, “good-bye, Pin.”
I stood there in the center of the living room with the chessboard in my hands. I heard the front door slam and then I turned to Pin. He could see the outrage in my face immediately. I was a little put out
at him for permitting them to mock me in his presence.
“You look like you're about to have a brain hemorrhage.”
“I feel like it. I was standing just outside this room when they were mocking me.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that. Why didn't you speak up?”
“I was going to say something,” he began, “but then I thought Ursula would take it badly, so I just ignored it.”
“Thanks.”
“What's the big deal? There's no real harm done.”
“No real harm done! That was my sister in here. She left with him.”
“Take it easy. Maybe you ought to pour yourself a drink.”
“I ought to. I ought to be good and stewed when they come back. That bastard, and Ursula, that bitch.”
“You gonna play chess or mumble to yourself all the rest of the day?”
I did pour myself a drink and we did play chess. It was a long game. It grew dark outside and we were still at it. I forgot all about supper, having no real appetite anyway. Along about seven-thirty, I realized that Ursula and Stan had probably gone out to eat, so I went into the kitchen and fixed myself a turkey sandwich. Pin just wanted to nibble on a little of the roast beef from the night before. I watched some television, but after a while Pin got real sleepy, so I had to wheel him into his bedroom. Then I turned off the set and went upstairs to read in bed. I
fell asleep and awoke a little after one in the morning. I heard the car door slam outside and peered out the window. It was a dark night with some overcast, but I could make out Ursula and Stan coming toward the house. I got up and listened at the top of the stairs.
“Leon's probably gone to sleep,” she said.
“I wonder if Pin did too,” he said, and there was that giggling again. God, it made me mad.
“How about a nightcap?” she said, and he agreed. They went into the living room. I walked down the stairs until I could hear their voices clearly. They were still talking about me. Ursula sounded like a different person when she was alone with him.
“How long have you had this âfriend,' Pin, living here?” he asked.
“As long as we've been alone. We brought him here the same day my uncles and aunts left us.”
“And was Leon always so attached to him? I mean, it? Even before your parents' death?”
“Oh, yes. He used to go over to the office by himself and talk to him. Especially at night, when he could be alone there.”
“Well, I hate to harp on it, but something's got to be done. And soon, Ursula. He's still a young guy. I'm sure they could help him.”
“They?”
“Psychiatrists. He needs to be institutionalized. It's a real shame because he does seem intelligent and creative. I like his poetry.”
“You're perverted, just like he is,” she said.
I couldn't believe she said it. Then I wondered about all the things she probably had said when they were alone in his car. It was a shock to hear Ursula
talk against me. I realized that she might have done that many times before. At first, I felt real hurt and sad, but as I listened to them, I got angry.
“You don't get frightened living here like this? I mean, who knows what's going on in his mind.”
“Frightened? Oh, no.” She laughed. “What's there to be afraid of? Leon wouldn't hurt me and I'm sure Pin wouldn't.” She laughed again, and then he laughed.
So, she's not afraid of Pin, I thought. What's more, she even thinks it's silly to contemplate being afraid of him, huh? All right, I thought, we'll see about that. Pin has got quite a temper when he gets going. He's not going to like the way things are turning out, not when I tell him what else I heard. Oh no, he's going to be just as indignant and as outraged as I am, I thought.
“I'm probably not the first person you've brought home to meet Pin,” Stan said, in a very low, seductive voice. There was a long pause. Probably kissing, I thought.
“That's where you're wrong,” she said. I could hardly hear her now. “It's been a long time since I brought anyone home with me.”
I took a few steps down and got closer to the doorway. I peered through the crack between the door and the wall. They were sitting on the couch, sitting very close together. He had a drink in his hand, but he leaned over and put it down on the table.
“I'll tell you one thing,” he said. “I'm glad you warned me about all this. Otherwise, I would have slipped away the first chance I got.”
“That's why I warned you,” she said, and they kissed a long kiss. She leaned back against the arm
of the couch. He sprawled over her and I watched them squirm around on the couch for a while. Then I turned and walked back upstairs, very quietly. My worst fears were realized. Ursula had connived against me. I just couldn't believe it.
There had been so few times in our lives when we were truly at odds with each other. I know that was unusual for a brother and sister growing up with only a couple of years separating them, but I always believed we had a deep understanding of each other's wants and needs and this was primarily responsible for our good relationship. Occasionally we fought over a toy or some dumb privilege like sitting in the front seat of the car, but both of us were always so sensitive to the other's feelings. I couldn't take her being unhappy for too long and she never seemed to be able to take my being unhappy. We were so tuned in to each other's moods. What had happened now to destroy that closeness, that awareness?
I searched my mind for the memory of anything that could justify her doing what she was doing. There was nothing, no reason for her to suddenly turn against me, be intimate with a complete stranger and confide in him at my expense. There was no reason except her own insatiable lust. The Need, I thought. It's turned her against me. Her Need is so great that she'd do anything to have that man in her bed, even ridicule me, make up lies about me and Pin. Damn her, I thought, damn her and her damn Need.