she'd peek her head out to see if the coast was clear, giggle, then wiggle out the door. Wiggle down the hall, swinging her purse, with this bouncy little high school walk that said I'm a winner.
Thinking no one saw.
Someone saw.
The invisible man, carrying a big carton that blocked his face. Even if he'd been visible he was safe. Pow.
He would have loved to cut her up, clean her up.
Mind picture.
Scream-picture.
Once Doctor and Audrey had a close call: One of the janitors got to work early, opened Doctor's office, and was immediately escorted out by Doctor, looking pissed. No white coat for the fucker now. Just pants and a shirt, the tie loose, the buttons not done right.
After that they started leaving the hospital. Going out, once or twice a week, to a motel just off Nasty Boulevard. Dirty-looking place, three dozen rooms around a sunken motor court, hand-painted signs on the roof advertising water beds and electric massage.
Really filthy. It offended him that people could stoop so low.
He followed them, walking because he still had no car, but it was close to the hospital, five blocks. He had long legs-no problem.
He set up his position behind a tall bush, squatted, and watched.
Doctor always drove. But he parked his car half a block away, on a dark side street, and the two of them walked to the motel, Doctor's big arm over her shoulder, Audrey wiggling and giggling. They were predictable: always went into the same room, number twenty-eight, way at the end. Borrring.
The clerk was this skinny slant, all yellow and sunken-cheeked, like he spent his off hours in an opium den. He had a small bladder, went to the bathroom every half hour or so. Or maybe he was shooting up-the guy wore long sleeves.
The room keys hung in duplicate from hooks on a particle-board rack just behind the reception desk.
He laid out his plan, ran it through his head for three weeks in a row. Just watching, trying to ignore the roaring in his head that got louder when he thought of what they were doing in there.
The key was to plan.
Week number four was action time. He'd brought his equipment, dressed in black like some ninja, feeling all tight and good and knowing he was fighting for a good cause.
The first day it didn't work. When the clerk went to pee/shoot up, there was another slant in the office, also looked like a junkie. Slant Two just stood around. When the clerk came out they talked to each other for a while.
The second day, it happened. Slant One split. The minute the office was empty, he ran in, vaulted the counter, grabbed the duplicate to twenty-eight, and vaulted back. By the time One was back, he was outside the door to twenty-eight, all ready with his equipment.
It was dark. There were a few cars; some of the other rooms were occupied, but all the drapes were drawn. No one was around-it was the kind of place you didn't want to be seen in.
He waited, with a giant hard-on, so hard he felt he could break down the door with it.
Put his ear to the door and heard mumbling, what sounded like sex-noise.
Waited some more until they had to be doing it, then slipped the key in, pushed, and ran in, turning on the lights and dancing around the room laughing and snapping pictures.
He caught them in a good pose. Audrey was sitting on Doctor, playing the egg game, just like she used to. Her eggs were smaller and firmer and kind of tan, but it was the same game, in and out.
Snap.
Screams.
What the hell-You't
Snap.
Audrey got hysterical, started crying, struggled to get off. Doctor holding on to her out of fear, shouting at him, but it ended up in her ear.
Comedy.
It looked like they hated each other, but they were still connected, couldn't get free of each other!
Excellent. Snap, snap! The mind pictures would be even better than the real ones, watching them struggle and scream, he was close to coming in his pants.
Snap.
They tried to disconnect. Fear made them clumsy, and they fell sideways.
Snap, another pose.
Snap snap.
Finally Audrey was loose, running naked and sobbing to the bathroom. He kept snapping Doctor, heard her throwing up-probably a habit with women.
