'Just being, like, you know… Friendly…'
'Flake off!' Don snapped.
She scribbled a telephone number on a paper napkin and thrust it at him, 'Get me on the horn, Don! It might be… like, you know… a real thing…' She was gone.
He remembered seeing her around Perry High School. She was a junior, too, like himself. He watched her walk away and decided he would like to get to know her better. It would be easy if Jack didn't have a prior claim on her. He finished off the fries and drank his Coke. Man! She's on it!
A few moments later, Jack roared into the parking lot, parked Don's cycle and ambled over. He sat down.
'Same place…' Jack told him, 'and remember, only in ounces from now on!'
'I'll remember!' Don said, getting up. 'See you around!'
He mounted his motorcycle, started it and headed for home. As he roared along the avenue, his long hair blowing in the wind, he spotted her walking along the sidewalk. He would know her anywhere, her auburn hair, the way she walked.
Pulling alongside her, he stopped and grinned. 'Want a ride… Sis?'
Charity returned her brother's smile. 'Sure, if you promise to go slow, I don't want my hair to blow all over!'
She climbed behind him, straddling the cycle saddle, exposing her firm young thighs as her skirt hiked up. The vision of those lovely columns was not lost on Don Scott. He thought his sister had the most beautiful figure he had ever seen. Many times, lately, he had spied on her in various stages of undress… and last week, he had caught her completely nude when he had walked into her room without knocking. She had been flustered, covered herself in embarrassment and shooed him out of the room, but not before he had gotten his eyes full.
Don rode slow, enjoying the feel of her arms around his middle and the twin mounds of her luscious breasts seemed to be boring holes into his back.
Shit! Chicks like Marcy are like nothing… compared to. Sis! She's really got it… and all in the right places, too…! But damn it! She's still my sister! Christ! If she wasn't I'd really want to swing with her! Man! She's something else!
He allowed his hand to drift down to her knee and run up her thigh a few inches while he steered the cycle with one hand. Charity slapped his hand away, and she cringed, inwardly, at the salacious suggestiveness of his caress. She put her mouth next to his ear and shouted over the roar of the wind, 'That's not nice, Donnie! Stop it!'
'I can't help it if you've got nice legs!'
'You can keep your hand to yourself, little brother!'
Don bristled. 'Little brother, hell! I'm almost as big as Dad!'
'I don't care… I don't want you to do that! It isn't right, and you know it!'
'I'll do what the hell I want to!' he said, defiantly.
'You do… and I'll tell Mom!'
'Oh, Christ! Here we go, again!' he mimicked. 'I'll tell Mom! Don't sweat it, though, Sis, because I'm going to split one of these day. I've had it! It's the street for me!'
'You're going to… run away?'
'Soon's I get a little bread… I'll be long gone!'
'Why?' she asked. 'Anyway… you've got to graduate from high school!'
'School! Crap, Sis… there's nothing for me at school! Only the chicks! Man! Some of them come on strong… like, you know… they swing! Groovy.'
Don left the avenue and turned into their street. Reaching the house, he turned into the driveway and parked the motorcycle. Charity clambered down and went into the house, feeling the dislike deep in her of the shabbiness the whole place exuded.
She passed through the living room, where her father sat, glassy-eyed, nursing a can of beer and watching a newscast on the portable television set. He sat, heavily, wearing only an undershirt and tan work pants, his paunch hanging over his belt, slightly. He had kicked off his shoes. A three-day growth of beard darkened his jowls.
Gabriel Scott's eyes lighted up as she came in, responding with a grunt to her airy greeting. His eyes roamed over her figure, his head twisting to follow her path through the living room and dining room to the door of her bedroom that opened up off the dining area. He turned back to the T.V. newscaster, only after she had disappeared into the sanctuary of her bedroom. Christ! She gets prettier every day! No matter what they say… those short skirts sure show a lot! Damn…! And she's my daughter… turning into quite a woman!
Outside, in the driveway, Don reached into the saddlebag on his cycle and extracted a neatly wrapped package, the ten marijuana cigarettes he had bought from Jack Roberts. With trembling fingers he stowed them safely in his shirt pocket. Shit! He hadn't liked that scene with Jack, but a guy had to have some of his own! He had to have something to share… and he had a place to share it… and some kids to rap with. Then, there was the sex… with chicks that were with it. That's all there is, man! That's all there is… and now there was Marcy! He checked his pocket. Yes, he still had her telephone number. He'd have to give her a buzz on the horn… like, tonight! Man! She really comes on strong!
He went into the house through the back door to his bedroom, converted from part of the back porch. It was a tiny room, hardly large enough to contain the single bed and a small student desk. He hid the roaches, suppressing a desire to burn one, right then, knowing that he had to save them for later. Stretching out on his bed, he retrieved a pornographic novel he had hidden under his mattress and soon lost himself in the lurid descriptions of natural and unnatural sexual athletics.
As he read, the explicit descriptions stimulated him, and his penis came up to rigid, erect attention, his hand going down, unconsciously, to massage and caress it. His thoughts drifted to the girls he knew, but soon the vision of his sister pushed the others aside, as somehow, the forbidden became the most desirable in his mind. Charity? Christ!
Retreating to the door of the motel room and stuffing the money in her purse, Dorothy Scott said, 'Damn it! I told you when I came I couldn't stay all night… It's just impossible!'
She avoided another lunge of the drunken traveling salesman she had agreed to meet after her stint as a cocktail waitress, made it out the door and headed rapidly for her car. The slam of the door behind her as she fled told her there would be no more difficulty from him. Thank God!
Ordinarily, she tried to avoid the real drunks, but this one had been fairly sober, looked clean and decent, a man who had been on the road for two weeks… and needed a woman, baby. She had met him at ten thirty, after work, went to his motel with him, where he broke out a new fifth of V.O., forcing her to drink with him before the bout on the bed. Ugh! I hate to have drunks mauling me!
She had done her best for him, giving him his money's worth, using her mouth to bring him to a fully hardened condition, then allowing him to slobber his lips over her nakedness, hurting her lush, white breasts with his strong hands; finally, ineptly trying to use his tongue on her, before he rammed his short but thick penis between her legs and jack-hammered away into her vagina until he came, after long minutes of exertion, and collapsed on top of her. She had had to push his slumbering weight off of her in order to get dressed; it was already nearing midnight, and she always tried to be home by then to allay Gabe's suspicions.
The salesman had awakened just as she finished dressing and insisted that she stay with him all night. He was willing to pay, he had told her. She had refused, politely, but he had become abusive. It was then she had made her hasty exit. God! I just couldn't do it! His money looked awfully tempting, though! But I'm still a wife, and mother, first! I couldn't ever let Gabe find out… but I'd die, I think, if Charity or Donnie ever found out what their mother is doing…! And dear God, it's only for the money, money to get a few of the little extras, extras that make life just a little better for all of us. I wouldn't do it, if there was enough money! Heavens only knows when Gabe'll be able to get a job, and keep it.
Dottie drove home through the almost deserted streets of Redfern, past grand old houses of an earlier time, most of them beginning to fall apart with abundance of time and decay. The huge trees, on either side of the broad avenue reached their limbs across the street to each other, creating a feeling in her as though she were driving through a long tunnel. The cooling effect of the trees, in the day time was pleasant, and the effect of the arching trees was different. It was at night, the eerie feeling overcame her.
She turned into her driveway and noted that Donnie's big motorcycle was not there. It was slightly after