Pricksongs & Descants (32 page)

○ ○? ○

She carries him, fighting all the way, to the tub, Bitsy pummeling her in the back and kicking her ankles. She can
’
t hang on to him and undress him at the same time.
“I’l
l throw you in, clothes and all, Jimmy Tucker!
”
she gasps.
“
You better not!
”
he cries. She sits on the toilet seat, locks her legs around him, whips his shirt up over his head before he knows what
’
s happening. The pants are easier. like all little boys his age, he has almost no hips at all. He hangs on desperately to his underpants, but when she succeeds in snapping these down out of his grip, too, he gives up, starts to bawl, and beats her wildly in the face with his fists. She ducks her head, laughing hysterically, oddly entranced by the spectacle of that pale little thing down there, bobbing and bouncing rubberily about with the boy
’
s helpless fury and anguish.

○ ○? ○

“
Aspirin? Whaddaya want aspirin for, Harry? I
’
m sure they got aspirin here, if you—
”
“
Did I say aspirin? I meant, uh, my glasses. And, you know, I thought, well, I
’
d sorta check to see if everything was okay at home.
”
Why the hell is it his mouth feels like it
’
s got about six sets of teeth packed in there, and a tongue the size of that liverwurst his host
’
s wife is passing around?
“
Whaddaya want your glasses for, Harry? I don
’
t understand you at all!
”
“
Aw, well, honey, I was feeling kind of dizzy or something, and I thought—
”
“
Dizzy is right. If you want to check on the kids, why don
’
t you just call on the phone?
”

○ ○? ○

They can tell she
’
s naked and about to get into the tub, but the bathroom window is frosted glass, and they can
’
t see anything clearly.
“
I got an idea,
”
Mark whispers.
“
One of us goes and calls her on the phone, and the other watches when she comes out
”
“
Okay, but who calls?
”
“
Both of us, we
’
ll do it twice. Or more.
”

○ ○? ○

Down forbidden alleys. Into secret passageways. Unlocking the world
’
s terrible secrets. Sudden shocks: a trapdoor! a fall! or the stunning report of a rifle shot, the
whaau-ii-ung
!
of the bullet biting concrete by your ear! Careful! Then edge forward once more, avoiding the light, inch at a time, now a quick dash for an open doorway—
loo
k
out!
there
’
s a knife! a struggle! no! the long blade glistens! jerks! thrusts!
stabbed!
No, no, it missed! The assailant
’
s down, yes! the spy
’
s on top, pinning him, a terrific thrashing about, the spy rips of? the assailant
’
s mask:
a woman!

○ ○? ○

Fumbling behind her, she finds it, wraps her hand around it, tugs.
“
Oh!
”
she gasps, pulling her hand back quickly, her ears turning crimson.
“
I ... I thought it was the soap!
”
He squeezes her
cl
ose between his thighs, pulls her back toward him, one hand sliding down her tummy between her legs. I Dream of J
e
annic—
“
I have to go to the bathroom!
”
says someone outside the door.

○ ○? ○

She
’
s combing her hair in the bathroom when the phone rings. She hurries to answer it before it wakes the baby.
“
Hello, Tuckers.
”
There
’
s no answer.
“
Hello?
”
A soft click. Strange. She feels suddenly alone in the big house, and goes in to watch TV with
the children
.

○ ○? ○

“
Stop it!
”
she screams.
“
Please, stop!
”
She
’
s on her hands and knees, trying to get up, but they
’
re too strong for her. Mark holds her head down.
“
Now, baby, we
’
re gonna teach you how to be a nice girl,
”
he says coldly, and nods at Jack. When she
’
s doubled over like that, her skirt rides up her thighs to the leg bands of her panties.
“
Cmon, man, go! This baby
’
s cold! She needs your touch!
”

○ ○? ○

Parks the car a couple blocks away. Slips up to the house, glances in his window. Just like he
’
s expected. Her blouse is off and the kid
’
s shirt is unbuttoned. He watches, while slowly, clumsily, childishly, they fumble with each other
’
s clo
thes. My God, it takes them forever. “
Some party!
”
“
You said it
!
”
When they
’
re more or less naked, he walks in.
“
Hey! What
’
s going on here?
”
They go white as bleu cheese. Haw haw!
“
What
’
s die little thing you got sticking out there, boy?
”
“
Harry, behave yourself!
”
No, he doesn
’
t let the kid get dressed, he sends him home bareassed.
“
Bareassed!
”
He drinks to that.
“
Promises, promises,
”
says his host
’
s wife.
I’ll
mail you your clothes, son!
”
He gazes down on the naked little girl on his couch.
“
Looks like you and me, we got a little secret to keep, honey,
”
he says coolly.
“
Less you wanna go home die same way your boyfriend did!
”
He chuckles at his easy wit, leans down over her, and un buckles his belt
“
Might as well make it two secrets, right?
”
“
What in God
’
s name are you talking about, Harry?
”
He staggers out of there, drink in hand, and goes to look for his car.

○ ○? ○

“
Hey! What
’
s going on here?
”
They huddle half-naked under the blanket, caught utterly unawares. On television: the clickety-click of frightened running feet on foreign pavements. Jack is fumbling for his shorts, tangled somehow around his ankles. The blanket is snatched away.
“
On your feet there!
”
Mr. Tucker, Mrs. Tucker, Mark
’
s mom and dad, the police, the neighbors, everybody comes crowding in. Hopelessly, he has a terrific erection. So hard it hurts. Everybody stares down at it.

○ ○ ○

Bitsy
’
s sleeping on the floor. The babysitter is taking a bath. For more than an hour now, he
’
s had to use the bathroom. He doesn
’
t know how much longer he can wait. Finally, he goes to knock on the bathroom door.
“
I have to use the bathroom
!”
“
Well, come ahead, if you have to.
”
“
Not while you
’
re in there.
”
She sighs loudly.
“
Okay, okay, just a minute,
”
she says,
“
but you
’
re a real nuisance, Jimmy!
”
He
’
s holding on, pinching it as tight as he can.
“
Hurry
!
”
He holds his breath, squeezing shut his eyes. No. Too late. At last, she opens the door.
“
Jimmy!
”
“
I
told
you to hurry!
”
he sobs. She drags him into the bathroom and pulls his pants down.

○ ○ ○

He arrives just in time to see her emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, to answer the phone. His two kids sneak up behind her and pull the towel away. She
’
s trying to hang onto the phone and get the towel back at the same time. It
’
s quite a picture. She
’
s got a sweet ass. Standing there in the bushes, pawing himself with one hand, he lifts his glass with the other and toasts her sweet ass, which his son now swats. Haw haw, maybe that boy
’
s gonna shape up, afer
al
l.

○ ○ ○

They
’
re in the bushes, arguing about their next move, when she comes out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. They can hear the baby crying. Then it stops. They see her running, naked, back to the bathroom like she
’
s scared or something.
I’
m going in after her, man, whether you
’
re with me or not!
”
Mark whispers, and he starts out of the bushes. But just then, a light comes sweeping up through the yard, as a car swing
s
in the drive. They hit the dirt, hearts pounding. Is it the cops?
”
“I
don
’
t know!
”
“
Do you think they saw us?
”
“
Sshh!
”
A man comes staggering up the walk from
the
drive, a drink in his hand, stumbles on in the kitchen door and then straight into the bathroom.
“
It
’
s Mr. Tucke
r!
”
Mark whispers. A scream.
“
Let
’
s get outa here, man!
”

○ ○ ○

9:00. Having missed most of the spy show anyway and having little else to do, the babysitter has washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen up a little. The books on the refrigerator remind her of her better intentions, but she decides that first shell see what
’
s next on TV. In the livingroom, she finds little Bitsy sound asleep on the floor. She lifts her gently, carries her into her bed, and tucks her in.
“
Okay, Jimmy, it
’
s nine o
’
clock, I
’
ve let you stay up, now be a good boy.
”
Sullenly, his sleepy eyes glued still to the set, the boy backs out of the room toward his bedroom. A drama comes on. She switches channels. A ballgame and a murder mystery. She switches back to the drama. It
’
s a love story of some kind. A man married to an aging invalid wife, but in love with a younger girl.
“
Use the bathroom and brush your teeth before going to bed, Jimmy!
”
she calls, but as quickly regrets it, for she hears the baby stir in its crib.

○ ○ ○

Two of them are talking about mothers they
’
ve salted away in rest homes. Oh boy, that
’
s just wonderful, this is one helluva party. She leaves them to use the John, takes advantage of the retreat to ease her girdle down awhile, get a few good deep breaths. She has this picture of her three kids carting her off to a rest home. In a wheel barrow. That sure is something to look forward to, all right
.
When she pulls her girdle back up, she can
’
t seem to squeeze into it The host looks in.
“
Hey, Dolly, are you all right?
”
“
Yeah, I just can
’
t get into my damn girdle, that
’
s all.
”
“
Here, let me help.
”