Part 10 (1/2)

”It's not a game.”

”Then what is it?”

She didn't answer, but for the first time I understood that she had no intention of leaving Ray. Luke might be her true love, but she had no intention of choosing. Ray was part of it, part of the whole weave of things, and she wanted to go on living it.

”You'll have to do something sooner or later,” I said.

”It isn't that easy, Vangie.”

”It's easier than you're making it.”

But all she would say to that was, ”Maybe.”

She started talking about Dreisbach's then. She didn't tell me any more about Luke or Ray. I didn't talk about Del, and it goes without saying that I didn't talk about how I f.u.c.ked her brother.

Probably because it was the easiest thing to do, we decided to get high. As we were smoking up, I told her all the tips I knew about working at Dreisbach's: about hemming her skirts up and about my regulars and how to squeeze a dollar out of people. Because it was easier to talk about jobs and work than anything else, that is what we talked about then, and I did not feel bad about it. She updated me on the latest gossip at the restaurant, and I told her about the joy of picking pears. At least we could laugh and joke. That was the same as it ever was between us.

When we had enough to smoke, June said, ”Come on. Let's go to bed.”

She took me upstairs to Luke's room, but I couldn't quite believe she wanted us to sleep there.

”I can sack out on the sofa,” I said.

”Don't be crazy, Vangie. This is the best bed in the house.”

And it was some bed. It was king-size, and the frame was all oak. It was ma.s.sive. The headboard had built-in cupboards, one on each side, and each cupboard closed with its own lead-gla.s.s door. In between the two cupboards was a huge mirror.

”Jesus Christ,” I said. ”It's like a football field.”

”He had to bring it in the house in pieces,” June said.

Of course I snooped in the cupboard on my side of the bed as soon as we lay down, because I wanted to see the kind of stuff Luke kept there. I found some magazines, a box of tissues, a clock, and a gun.

I knew the thing was loaded. There would be no point to keep a gun that ready at the bedside if it wasn't loaded.

”What is that?” I said.

”A .38 Special.”

”I don't know if I can sleep with that there.”

The pistol was black and heavy-looking, and it made me feel sick just to see it.

”I mean it,” I told June. ”I can't sleep with it there.”

”Here,” she said, and took one of the magazines. She opened it and laid it over the gun. ”Now you can't see it.”

”I don't know if that's going to do it,” I said.

”I'll put it on my side, then.”

The pistol looked crazy in June's hand, and I was glad she was the one who picked it up. I didn't even want to touch it.

”Don't think about it,” June said, and closed the cupboard door.

I was almost sorry then that I was staying over. I felt stoned and unsure, my nerves were still jangling from everything that had happened with Kevin Keel, and the gun just upset me. I began to worry that June or I would wake in the night and, in some crazy dream, reach out and make the gun go off. I didn't think we would shoot each other-I just thought we would somehow knock the pistol out of the cupboard and that it would somehow fire and hurt one of us. Even though it was on June's side of the bed, I worried that I might do something crazy and clumsy because I was so afraid. That is what I lay thinking of in that big bed.

”Should I show you something of mine?”

”Sure,” I said. I thought, great, she's got a matching pearl-handled pistol or something on her side. But what June pulled out was a little tan thing that looked like a small hair dryer. I didn't know what it was at first, but then I remembered seeing one in a magazine, and it all dawned on me about what it was.

”I keep it here,” she said. ”I only use it with Luke. Ray couldn't handle it.”

She flicked the switch on the top and the thing turned on. It whirred like a bug. I put my hand out to touch the piece that moved.

”It looks like a nose,” I said.

”It sort of is like a nose,” she said. ”You can use it if you want.”

She turned off the bedside light then, but I cannot remember how it happened next, the order of things: if she moved her hand down between my legs and then I parted them, or if I parted my legs first.

”Is that the place?”

I moved my hips a little, and then it was the right place. She only touched me a few seconds and she said, ”It's better if you take off your underwear.”

And there in the p.r.i.c.kling darkness I did that. And that time I know I was the one who moved first, who spread my legs apart so she could get to me.

The little nose piece was so insistent, the buzz so hard, that my skin seemed to draw back. But only for a little while. Pretty soon the buzz was not so hard, and I could feel the tension easing, and all the tightness went into a contraction I had up inside me, and that happened over and over. I came fast and hard in a few minutes.

I did not make a sound, but June knew. She was on the other end of that plastic thing-of course she knew.

”You and Del should get one,” she said. ”Do you want to use it anymore?”

”No, thanks.”

”All right. Do you mind if I do?”

”I don't mind,” I said. ”Go ahead.”

She turned a little to face the wall, for privacy, the way we did when we had hickeys to hide.

”Do you want me to go?” I said.