'What the hell you talking about, sis?' Denny replied, stunned. 'You mean there's something wrong with fooling around with pricks and cunts? Bullshit! You and I are gonna be a team-maybe for our whole lifetimes!'
'Huh-uh,' Joyce said. 'That's all over-from now on we're Mister and Mrs. Pure. Use your head, Denny. You know it couldn't go on. Admit it?'
'No, I won't admit it. We love each other and we like fooling around with each other. If you don't get pregnant, what difference does it make? Admit you liked fucking with me, come on.'
'I liked it too much, Denny,' Joyce said. 'And that's the problem. See, you have to understand that in this society it's a very big no-no. Next to murder, it's maybe the biggest no-no. It's a-a taboo. Incest is a taboo.'
'Taboo, schmoo,' Denny said. He reached over and grabbed her tit, but she shoved his hand away. 'I wish you'd get all these crazy new ideas out of your head,' Denny said. 'And I wish you'd stop trying to sound so scholarly. Shit, you sound worse than dad.'
'Sorry, but I decided to break it off between us right after our first-uh-fuck,' Joyce said. 'Why do you think I flirted with other boys when I was in love with you?'
'What do you mean 'was in love' with me? You don't dig me anymore?'
'Yes, I love you as a brother-but not as a lover. I love you as much as always, but in a different way. Don't you see? We can't spend the rest of our lives hiding, pretending, lying. How could we ever get married? You want to have kooky lads and spend the rest of your life hiding out? No, it's best to nip it in the bud.'
Denny reached over and stuck his hand up her dress. 'You mean nip it in the clit, don't you?'
She slapped his hand. 'Stop that, you idiot! Somebody'll see us.'
'Nothing to worry about,' Denny said. 'I can have an operation, just like dad. Then we wouldn't have to worry about having kids.' Denny paused then, realizing what he had dropped.
'So you know about Daddy's operation,' she said, staring at him suspiciously. 'When did you find out?'
Denny studied his sister, searching the quizzical, indecisive expression on her face. Did she guess he had spied on her and their father when they had fucked there in the living room that night? It was a crucial moment, he knew. Until recently they had always kept their special agreement-told the truth to each other about everything. Would she lie to him, as he had lied to her? Or would she tell the truth?
'You tell me?' Denny said, finally. 'How do you know about dad's operation?'
She turned her head then, as if fearing he might detect the lie in her eyes. 'H-He told me about the operation,' she lied. 'He told me one afternoon-uh- when you were outside.'
Denny decided to lie right back. 'O.K. then.' he said. 'Dad told me, too-one afternoon when you were outside.' For some reason, Denny felt a great surge of relief. If Joyce had told him about fucking their father, then he would have felt compelled to tell her about fucking Norma. And he had promised Norma he wouldn't tell. Indeed, they had both grown up… the childish and impossible promise-the agreement-had at last been broken.
Joyce seemed to understand the significance of the moment, too. 'Yes,' she uttered softly, 'I guess father would not tell one without telling the other, would he?'
'True,' Denny replied, but he understood that both of them were remembering that night when their father had fucked Joyce there on the living room couch while, heartbroken, he had watched from outside. 'Yes, that's true.'
'So I thought it was time to tell you of my decision, Denny. Naturally, I didn't want to tell you in Walden Flats. I–I thought it might ruin the vacation for you-which is why I waited till we were on the plane.'
And then she hurled herself in his arms, sobbing. 'We'll be in our own rooms again in San Francisco… and we'll be normal, just like other kids, and you'll have your own girlfriends and I'll have my own boyfriends. Oh, Denny!' She couldn't restrain the deep sobs that wracked her body. 'I–I nearly died when I heard you with that pig, Denise, last night. I wanted you so much, and I–I was insane with jealousy. Doesn't that tell you why we have to put an end to behaving like a-a man and wife?'
Her head lay against his shoulder as she cried. It seemed a long time before she lifted her head and spoke in a normal voice again. 'In San Francisco it's going to be entirely different. You do understand that, don't you? I–I just want to make that point emphatically again.' She sniffed. 'You do understand?'
'O.K.,' Denny said. 'Let's say I understand.'
His sister was still staring at him, as if she might burst into tears. 'Denny, I'm going back to the bathroom now to wash my face, and when I come back I don't want to talk about this anymore. Is that clear?'
She stood hurriedly, then side-stepped by him from her window seat. Her hand was at her face and her chest heaved.
Denny watched men's heads turn to admire his sister as she made her way down the aisle toward the ladies' room. He admired the swing of her hips, her beautiful body, and he thought: She's going to make someone a beautiful wife someday. But he was not sure that being back in San Francisco would change the direction their lives had taken. Not at all sure. They would just have to wait and see. And for just a moment, he thought he might burst into tears, too.
