Seeds of Fear

immaculately conceived VC.

Still nodding, the mammasan grabbed Gil's arm just above the elbow and began leading {dragging) him toward one of the closed curtains. The exposed corner of the record bumped against the dog tags hanging at his throat. Rattling them. Reminding him.

The mammasan heard the noise and turned without stopping, fingered the bright red one and smiled.

'Pretty, pretty. you like, for sure. Virgin girl know how to make GI plenty happy.'

Gil felt the blue-dressed «virgin» brush past him and push the curtain open. Another bamboo chair, identical to the one he'd seen holding the black grunt, sat in the middle of the tiny room. Although room was too big a word for the space he was looking at.

There was just enough room for the chair and a woman kneeling in front. Watching.

Gil took a deep breath and watched the girl bend down and fluff the thin pillow in front of the chair. As she straightened, she began slipping the tiny covered buttons on her shirt through the silken loops. In less than a minute she shrugged out of the knee-length top and draped it over the fanned back of the chair. Her tiny, rose- nippled breasts trembled with the motion. begging for his tongue… his fingers. his.

'A. virgin?' Gil whispered without benefit of spit. Every drop of moisture in his body, except for that oozing out through his pores, was currently filling the Full Military Erection jutting out the front of his pants.

'Sure she virgin,' the old woman growled, 'what you think? She some goddamned bar girl? She virgin. like all others virgin.'

'Why?' Gil heard himself ask.

'Must eat,' mammasan said, 'and war not last fo'eber. When war end I sell real virgins for beaucoup bucks to good family. Make plenty money. She suckee only, no open legs… no fuckee. She virgin.'

Gil suddenly felt like he was back in high school, about to go out on his last {first time) date; standing with his hands clasped over the pathetic throbbing in his jeans while he listened to the girl's father explain the facts of life (everlasting) to him — that his daughter was a virgin and he expected for her to come home in the same condition.

Which she hadn't.

Neither of them had.

Gil pulled his arm out of the old woman's grasp and laced both over the record.

'So how much are virgins going for these days?' he asked.

Twin smiles beamed at him.

'Five dollah American.'

'Five — '

For that amount he could probably buy Ho Chin Minh's daughter. Or a water buffalo. And still get change back.

Gil shifted the record to one side and shook his head, waving away the offer with his free hand. 'Too beaucoup much. I'll give you. ' Pause.'… twenty-five piastres. That's more than most bar girls get.'

The mammasan's black eyes disappeared beneath wrinkled flaps of skin as she puckered up and deposited a wad of cocoa brown phlegm an inch from the toe of Gil's right boot.

'You wan spend twenty-five p, you go get god damned bar girl. This numbah one virgin girl give you good suckee, no disease. No nothing bad. She be worth five dollah American. Worth more, for sure.'

Gil shook his head in time with the throbbing in his groin {please, Daddy? Please?). Five dollars American could buy a whole hell of a lot of things more important than a quick blow job..

but for the life of him, he couldn't think of any at the moment.

Grumbling under his breath to let the mammasan think her lie about the 'virgin whore' had caught yet another oversexed grunt, Gil reached into his back pocket and pulled out the thick wad of MPCs. Kept on grumbling while he peeled off the military scrip. Stopped when he reached five and held them out.

The old woman spit again.

'No wan Mickey Mouse money. that not good for nothing.' She held out a scarred palm and slapped it with the fingers of her other hand. 'Five dollah American. Real money.'

'It's worth it, man,' a husky voice said.

Gil turned to watch the black grunt, chest glistening with sweat beneath his web gear, arm tossed casually over the bamboo curtain rod less than a foot above his flattened Afro. His eyes were half-closed beneath chocolate brown lids, thick lips hanging open in a loose smile.

He looked more stoned than fucked over.

'Five dollars worth?' Gil asked.

'Fuckin'-A, man.' Tipping forward at the waist, the grunt planted a sloppy, openmouthed kiss on his whore's puffy lips. 'An' I was even in Vung Tau. Shit, these ladies could suck the eye out of a needle. Damn!'

'Five dollars.'

The black grunt shot Gil a thumb's-up, then staggered to and out the beaded doorway. The flat rattling sound continued as Gil flipped back the pay certifi cates to the real stuff. He, like every other grunt who'd passed the Turtle Test, and lived to see his dark OD fatigues fade, always kept at least a cool hundred in U.S. currency.

For emergencies.

like this one

'She'd better be worth this,' Gil snarled, taking a relatively crisp five-dollar bill and dangling it before the mammasan's jaundiced eyes like a baited hook. Her stares were more like grubs than leeches. 'If she's not, there's going to be beaucoup hell to pay. You understand?'

'Yes, yes, understand good. She berry, berry good, GI, you see. If no think so, you can beat. Beat, just no fuck. She virgin, worth more than five dollah American when war finished.'

Gil could almost feel the steam rising as she pulled the bill from his fingers.

'You see, she numbah one girlfriend. If you like, I no let her give suckee any other GI but you. You see, you like whole hell'a lot. Come, you sit. she suckee you good.'

Gil let himself be steered toward the chair and sat down, the woven bamboo squeaking beneath his ass in protest.

'You wan me take that? Keep it plenty safe, for sure.'

Gil followed the mammasan's hand to the record clutched to his chest and shook his head.

'No. I'll keep it. Here. With me.'

'No worry, GI,' the old woman said as her fingers closed over the record and pulled it from his grasp. 'This be plenty respectable place. We no steal. Oh. record. You like me play?'

Gil watched the old woman slice the plastic cover with a ragged nail and slide the real virgin out of its tissue paper protector.

'Have plenty good record player, GI. You like play?'

She turned without waiting for him to answer, shuffling away from the curtained cocoon as fast as her bandy little legs would carry her. Gil stood up and took a step forward when he saw that the plenty good record player was one of those claw-lidded things he'd had as a kid. The kind that left scratches the size of the Grand Canyon.

oh shit

Gil took another step when Mitch Ryder's voice (sounding a little like Donald Duck) filled the room, singing about the Devil with a Blue Dress. The mammasan looked up from the phonograph and nodded as the other whores clapped happily.

shit shit shit

'You wan suckee now, GI?'