After Midnight

Out near the middle of the pool, the back of his head and then his buttocks slid across the moonlight’s silver path. He seemed to be on his way to the shallow end, doing a leisurely breast stroke.

Not coming for me, after all.

Not yet.

But the pool had tile stairs underwater at a corner of the shallow end. When he came to them, he might climb out.

I stepped a little closer to the glass door.

He didn’t swim toward the stairs. Instead, he kept to the center. At the end of the pool, he stood up. His wet skin gleamed in the moonlight, but only down to his waist. There, the black water cut him off. He looked as if he’d lost his lower body—legs, ass, and the all the rest—as if whacked apart by a terrible sword.

The saber.

I suddenly remembered Charlie’s saber. It hung on hooks above the fireplace in the living room, along with a framed citation that had something to do with the Civil War service of his great-great-grandfather.

The saber was an actual relic of the war.

It hadn’t belonged to Charlie’s ancestor, though; Serena had bought it for him as a Christmas present.

We’d all fooled around with it, now and then.

It was about four feet long, and sharp.

Out in the pool, the stranger turned around. He eased down into the water, his body disappearing until nothing was left except his face. Then he started swimming again, apparently on his way to the deep end.

I stepped backward, turned away from the glass door and went to get the saber.

I’d forgotten that the foyer light was on. It was halfway down the long corridor, too far away for its brightness to reach the doorway of the den. But I saw it the moment I stepped out. Seeing the foyer light, I also remembered that the living room curtains were wide open.

The wall out there was mostly glass from one end to the other, from floor to ceiling. Like the wall of an aquarium.

From anywhere near the deep end of the pool, the stranger would have a fine view in.

I muttered a curse.

To be honest about it, I said “Shit.”

I hated my stupidity for not remembering to shut the curtains before dark. Bad enough that I’d missed out on popcorn because they were open, but now I couldn’t even go for the saber.

Obviously, I could go for it if I wanted to.

But I’m not that stupid.

Suppose, so far, the guy had no idea that anyone was in the house? He sees me sneaking through the living room, trying to get the saber, and he’ll know I’m here.

He’ll assume I’m alone.

Maybe he’ll like the looks of me. Even though I’m no glamour queen, I’ve got a great figure and I am wearing a clingy, revealing robe.

And he is already naked and aroused.

Maybe, so far, he’d only been interested in a little midnight skinny-dipping. But seeing me…

No way.

I wasn’t going to risk it.

I’ll wait till he tries to break in.

And maybe he won’t, I thought. Maybe he really did come here only to use the swimming pool. He might do a few laps, then walk back into the woods and that’ll be the end of it.

He might be breaking in right now.

I stepped back into the den. This time, I shut the door behind me to make sure no light could possibly sneak in from the foyer.

It had already dimmed my night vision. Except for the outside glow coming through the glass door, everything in the den looked much darker than before.

From where I stood, I could only see a small section of the pool. The stranger wasn’t in sight, and that worried me. So I hurried.

My bare left foot kicked a leg of the coffee table. From the sound, you’d think I’d struck the table with a hammer. My toes crumpled. Pain rushed up my leg. Tears flooded my eyes. My mouth flew open to let out a cry of agony, but I kept quiet and hobbled sideways and fell backward onto the couch. The couch scooted and bumped the wall. Flinging my leg up, I clutched my ruined foot.

From the feel of things, I figured two or three toes might be broken.

But the pain subsided after a couple of minutes.

Wet-faced and breathless, I fingered my toes. I wiggled them. They felt sore and kind of tired, but they seemed okay otherwise.

I wondered what the stranger was up to.

But I no longer wanted to look. I wanted to remain right where I was. The couch felt good under my back, even though my rear end was hanging off the cushion and I had to keep at least one foot planted on the floor to stop myself from sliding off.

Maybe I should swing my legs up, make myself comfortable, and stay put.

I wasn’t required to stand at the door and watch the stranger swim his laps.

He would go away, sooner or later.

Go away, or break in.

If he tries to break in, I’ll go for the saber. If he doesn’t, I’ll just…

What if I don’t hear him?

Such a huge house, he could make almost any kind of noise at the other end and I’d be none the wiser. Especially now that I’d shut the den door.

Also, there was the air conditioner.

The house had central air.

I couldn’t hear its machinery. The compressor, or whatever, was outside and pretty far away. But the den had a couple of vents and an air intake. They didn’t make enough noise to notice, usually. Just soft, breezy, breathy sounds. But now they seemed as loud as a gale.

The stranger could hurl a brick through the living-room window and I probably wouldn’t hear it.

Turn off the air.

The control box was mounted on the hallway wall, not far from the den. Only minutes ago, I’d been standing within reach of it. Too bad I hadn’t thought to reach out and flick it off. But my mind had been on the saber, not on the quiet noise of the air conditioner.

So, do it now.

I pushed myself off the couch and stood up. My toes ached, but not badly. I hardly limped at all on my way to the door. I wrapped my hand around its knob.

And suddenly wished, badly, that I hadn’t shut it.

What if I open it and he’s standing right there?

I pictured him on the other side of the door, naked and hard, dripping water onto the hallway carpet, grinning at me. He’d grabbed Charlie’s saber on his way through the house, and held it overhead with both hands like a Samurai all eager to split me down the middle.

My imagination likes to torture me with stuff like that.

I figured he probably wasn’t really there, or even in the house at all.

But my hand and arm felt frozen. I couldn’t force myself to open the door.

Then all of a sudden I got to thinking the knob might start to turn in my hand and he might throw the door open, crashing it into me and rushing in.

This was just my imagination at work, and I knew it.

But it scared me.

I let go of the knob and backed away from the door, pretty much expecting it to fly open. But it stayed shut. So then I turned around and faced the sliding glass door.

From where I stood, I could see the pool. Not much of it, though.