The New Neighbor

these?”

'You like them?'

'They're gorgeous.'

'Tell you what. Why don't you turn off the coffee and come over to my place. I was just unpacking all my pieces and I bet there's something over there you'd like.'

'Oh, you don't have to – “

'No, really. That's why I came over here. I like to know my neighbors, and I was going to invite you over for a cup of hot spiced wine so we could get acquainted.'

'Mmm, that sounds good. But really, my husband'll be home in a couple of hours and I haven't started dinner.'

'Order a pizza. Or better yet – “ Lorelle stood and gave Karen a conspiratorial wink, “ – let him cook it. You work, too, remember.'

Laughing, Karen went to the coffee maker and switched it off. 'We're gonna get along well, you and me,' she said, grabbing her coat in the hall as they headed for the front door. 'I like the way you think.'

* * * *

Robby stared at his English lit test as he hunched over his desk, but did not see it. Neither did he hear the occasional weary sighs of the other students laboring over the questions, nor the rustle of papers and tapping of pencils that punctuated the silence. Instead, his mind re-examined the events of the night before, going over them again and again.

He vaguely remembered waking in Lorelle's arms, in front of the fire, feeling weak and helpless as a newborn infant. She smiled, stroked his face, and told him he should dress and go home. But before he left, she gave him a gift – a silver neck chain with a sterling wolf's head pendant that held two tiny ruby eyes. At the door, she gave him one more kiss – a long hungry kiss that sucked his tongue into her mouth so hard it hurt – then he staggered across the street, unaware of the time, but hoping it wasn't too late. In the house, he closed the door quietly when he heard the television in the living room, quickly ducked down the hall and went straight to bed.

Getting out of bed that morning had been a chore and his mother had insisted he stay home from school because she didn’t think he looked well. But, not wanting to miss the test, Robby assured her that he was fine and managed to shower and dress in time to catch the bus.

But he did look ill: pale and exhausted, with gray rings beneath his heavy eyes. His chest, shoulders and neck were spotted with light bruises where Lorelle had chewed on him and the ruby eyes in the snarling wolf's head looked an even deeper red against his ashen skin than they had the night before.

As he stared blindly at the test, he wondered why it had happened, what she had seen in him when he was so obviously below her standards. She was – how old? Thirty? Thirty-five? Older? It was hard to tell. He was just a clumsy teenager who couldn't drink, drive or vote, and whose experience with women did not extend beyond sucking on one of Janine Flugel's nipples and slipping his fingers down her panties while she jerked him off through his undershorts behind the gymnasium, during the autumn dance, a couple of weeks ago. He didn't understand it, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that understanding it was not necessary.

'Robby? Robby?'

He blinked as he looked around, fingering the sterling wolf's head. He was surprised to see everyone leaving their desks, slapping their books together and complaining about the test. Miss Weiss was leaning over his desk, frowning.

'Are you all right, Robby?' she asked.

'Huh? Yeah. Fine. Is… did the bell ring?'

'Yes, and you haven't finished, have you?'

'Well, um… ' He looked at the test. Not only had he not finished, he'd barely even started. The first question was half answered and the rest of the paper was blank except for the doodles in the margins. The doodles…

Robby moved to slap his hand over one of the scribbled pictures, but knew he was too late when he saw Miss Weiss looking at his crude drawing of Lorelle's sculpture.

She turned to him slowly and he wasn't sure if she was going to smirk or frown.

'You don't look well, Robby,' she said. She was leaning close and he could see the light sprinkle of freckles on her chest, but that – even combined with the smell of her perfume – did not elicit the usual blushing response. He just didn't have the energy to find her attractive.

'I guess I… haven't been… feeling too well today. But I didn't want to miss the test.'

'Well, it didn't do you much good to come to school, did it?' She took the paper and stepped back from his desk. 'Go on home and get some rest.'

'I've got two more classes,' he said.

'They'll still be there next week. Go see the school nurse and I'll let you make up the test on Monday.'

He quickly gathered his things. 'Thanks, Miss Weiss.'

'But next time you're sick, stay home. Okay?'

He didn't look back as he hurried out of the room.

Dylan was waiting for him in the hall.

'What the hell's the matter with you man? You look like you fell out of the back of a hearse.'

'Flu, maybe,' Robby said without slowing his pace as he went to his locker.

'So how'd you do on the test?'

He said nothing.

'You do okay? I'm not sure if I got that question about – “

'I don't want to talk about the test, okay?' He didn't want to talk at all.

'Maybe you’ve got the swine flu, 'cause you've been a real pig's ass all day, you know that? What're you, on your period?'

“Sorry, Dylan. I just don't feel well.' Actually, he didn't feel sick, just exhausted, and he only wanted to go home and sleep. He'd slept as if in a coma the night before, but still felt as if he would never get enough sleep again.

* * * *

After about half an hour of conversation over wine in Lorelle's kitchen, Lorelle went to her bedroom to get her jewelry. Karen seated herself on the sofa and gasped softly when she saw the sculpture. She gawked at it for a few moments, then turned away when she heard Lorelle coming, acting as if she hadn't even noticed it. But each time Lorelle turned away to open a new box of jewelry, Karen stole a look at the sculpture and wondered if it was Lorelle's work. If Lorelle had done it, she hadn’t given herself the credit she deserved when she'd said earlier, 'Oh, my art is nothing more than a hobby, really. I just happen to make a living at it.' Still, there was something about the sculpture that made Karen squirm. It was not the deliciously sinister look on the woman's face or the look of anguish on the man's, and neither was it the leathery wings sprouting from the woman's back. It was…

… the penis. It looked so real, black as coal, but shiny as if it were wet, generously leaking the clear viscous fluids that penises seemed to produce in abundance. Each time Karen looked at the sculpture, it was the man's stiff penis to which her eyes were drawn.

She was admiring a pair of sterling crescent moon earrings when Lorelle turned away to open the fourth box. Karen looked at the sculpture again, at the fat penis clutched in the winged woman's fist.

'Does it bother you?'

Karen jerked around toward Lorelle. 'Pardon?'

'My sculpture. Does it bother you?'

'Oh, no. It's… beautiful. I was wondering if you'd done it. I think it's… wonderful.'

'Ah. Well, some people are offended by it. And you were looking at it with a sort of distasteful grimace.'

'Was I? I'm sorry. It has nothing to do with… I mean, I really do think it's beautiful. I just… well… ' She