Tread Softly

The scene changed. She paraded into a classroom wearing the jock on her head. Julie gasped, 'Oh, no!' and the audience roared. The matronly teacher looked aghast. The girl walked up to the chubby boy's desk, plucked the jock from her head, and pulled it down over his face.

The boy's name was Ralph. The girl was Cindy. She was captain of the cheerleading squad, the most popular girl in school, and she wanted nothing to do with Ralph. Ralph wanted 'in her pants.'

As the movie went on, following his antics, Nick continued to caress Julie's shoulder and upper arm. Her blouse was getting damp from his hand. His arm was getting numb. Finally, he lowered it. He rested his hand on his leg. Julie reached down, took hold of it, and squeezed it.

Ralph, in the dark outside Cindy's house, serenaded her, playing 'Lady of Spain' on a sousaphone. She went to her bedroom window and mooned him.

With his free hand, Nick stroked Julie's forearm, barely touching it, feeling the soft light brush of its hair, the sleek skin.

Though he and Julie laughed at some of the film's raunchy antics, he began to get annoyed. The movie showed sex as a crude joke, not as something beautiful and strange, the way it should be, the way he wanted it to be with Julie. The kids were 'copping feels,' trying to 'get it on,' to 'lay pipe,' to 'fuck their brains out.' There was no tenderness, no caring, no making love. Nick began to wish they'd chosen a different movie. At least this one seemed to be nearing an end. The next feature, a spy thriller, should be a real improvement.

Julie lifted their hands over the armrest. She lowered them onto her leg. Nick felt the heat of it through the thin fabric of her skirt.

Though Cindy was doing a striptease for Ralph, the sight of her naked breasts and writhing body seemed not nearly so exciting to Nick as the feel of Julie's leg under his hand. If he inched their locked hands down a bit, he might get past the hem to her bare knee. While he tried to work up the nerve, Julie slid their hands to the very place he wanted. She loosened her grip. As his fingers closed gently over her leg, she stroked the back of his hand. His mouth was parched, his heart racing.

Cindy, done with the striptease, flopped naked onto the bed. Ralph had finally earned a 'toss' with her by dumping a truckload of manure on her unfaithful boyfriend and his new girlfriend while the two were 'scoring' in the backseat of his new convertible. Face flushed, eyes bulging, Ralph tossed off his clothes. 'Come and get it!' Cindy called. With a whoop of delight, Ralph dived at her sprawled body. A freeze-frame caught him in midair. The words 'The End' flashed across his rump.

Nick gave Julie's leg a gentle squeeze as the final credits rolled. Then he took his hand away. When the lights came on, she smiled at him. 'Well,' she said, 'what did you think?'

'The movie? It was all right.'

'A real gross-out, huh?'

'That's for sure.'

'Well, I'm glad poor Ralph finally got his wish. He sure worked hard enough for it.'

The words excited Nick. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. 'Are you ready for some popcorn or something?'

Julie got that mysterious look on her face. 'That depends.'

'On what?'

'How badly do you want to see the next movie?'

The question stunned Nick. He stared at her. 'What do you mean?'

'Dad says I have to be home by eleven. It's only eight-thirty. If we leave now…' She raised her eyebrows. 'What do you think?'

'Are you serious?'

'If you'd rather stay for the movie. '

'No. I don't care about that. I… uh… I don't think we'd win any points with your dad.'

'He doesn't have to know.'

'Jeez, Julie.'

'Are you game?'

He let out an uneasy laugh. 'Yeah, sure, I guess so.'

'Great. Let's get out of here.' She slung her purse strap over her shoulder, and stood up.

They sidestepped toward the aisle. Nick felt tight and jittery. We shouldn't do this, he thought. But he wanted to. He was scared, but he wanted to.

Where'll we go? Park someplace. Oh, my God.

In the lobby, she squeezed his hand. 'Right back,' she said, and pushed through a restroom door.

He remembered his promise not to let her out of his sight. Well, he couldn't follow her into the ladies' room. Ralph might, but not him.

He hurried to the men's room. One of the urinals was vacant. He stepped up to it. The underside of his penis felt wet and slick. Either the movie or Julie had excited him a lot. He didn't think it was the movie.

In the lobby again, he looked for Julie. He didn't see her. Apparently, she was still in the restroom. He waited. Slowly, the line at the refreshment stand dwindled. An usher in a red blazer shut the doors to the auditorium, signaling the start of the second feature.

Nick paced. He stared at the restroom door.

It finally opened, but the girl who came out wasn't Julie.

What was taking her so long?

Had something gone wrong?

The girl behind the refreshment counter was pumping butter flavoring onto a tub of popcorn for the last customer. Maybe, when she finished, Nick would ask her to check on Julie. That could turn out embarrassing.

He'd give Julie a couple more minutes.

He gazed at the second hand of the wall clock behind the counter. It moved quickly, sweeping past the numbers. He watched it make three circuits of the face. Still, he hesitated to interfere.

The restroom door stayed shut.

Come on, Julie! What's wrong?

Chapter Thirty-four

Can I turn it up?' Rose asked.

'May I durn'd up,' Alice corrected, her speech thick from too much wine.

'Go ahead,' Flash said. He could hardly hear himself think, much less hear the television. The helicopter was making another pass low over the house. It had been circling the neighborhood for the past ten minutes, the whapping noise of its rotors deafening at times, then receding, then growing to a roar as it came back.

He watched Rose crawl to the television, reach up with her bandaged arm, and turn up the volume. She crawled backward to the place where she'd been sitting on the carpet. She crossed her legs.

Alice stared at the ceiling. She looked as if she might cry. 'Why dudn' he go 'way,' she said.

'Must be looking for a prowler. This time, at least, it's not three o'clock in the morning.' That's when the police helicopter usually put in its appearance — seemed like once a month — waking them up, circling for half an hour, sometimes as long as an hour, hovering low over the houses, its searchlight sweeping the lawns and streets. It was a nuisance. A little frightening, too. It reminded him of 'Nam, and it wasn't used for routine patrols. Its presence meant that a suspect was out there. Somewhere close. You always wondered who he was, what he'd done, where he might be lurking.

Alice, beside him on the couch, leaned forward and reached out with her left hand. Her fingertips bumped the wineglass, knocked it over. Chablis sloshed out onto the table.

Heather, in a rocking chair across the room, looked up from her book and frowned.

Alice saw her. 'You try'n use yer lef han',' she blurted. Her face was puckered and red.

Flash rubbed the back of Alice's neck. The tense muscles felt like iron. 'It's okay, honey. We all have little