Its only a game. He shrugged. Its more fun to play than it is to watch.
Doesnt it hurt when you get tackled like that?
The idea is not to get tackled.
Youre a stubborn man, Raphael Taylor, she accused. Its almost impossible to talk to you. Me?
And will you stop looking at me all the time. Every time I look up, there you are, watching me. You make me feel as if I dont have any clothes on.
Im sorry.
Ill start making faces at you if you dont stop it, she warned. Then how would you feel?
The question is how are you going to feel when people start to think your gears arent meshing?
Youre impossible, she said, but her voice was not really
angry. I have to go home and study some more. She turned abruptly and strode away with a curiously leggy gait that seemed at once awkward and almost childishly feminine.
Marilyn, he called after her.
She stopped and turned. What?
Ill see you tomorrow.
No, you wont. Im going to hide under the table. She stuck her tongue out at him, turned, and continued across the lawn. Raphael laughed.
Their growing friendship did not, of course, go unobserved. By the time it had progressed to the stage of going for coffee together at the Student Union Building, Flood became aware of it. Raphaels being unfaithful to you, Bel, he announced on one of his now-infrequent visits to the lake.
Get serious, Raphael told him, irritated and a little embarrassed.
Dont be a snitch, Junior, Isabel said quite calmly. Nobody likes a snitch.
I just thought you ought to know, Bel. Flood grinned maliciously. Since I introduced you two, I feel a certain responsibility. His eyes, however, were serious, even calculating.
Our relationship isnt that kind. She still seemed unperturbed. I dont have any objections if Raphael has other diversionsany more than hes upset by my little flings.
Raphael looked at her quickly, startled and with a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Oh, my poor Angel, she said, catching the look and laughing, did you honestly think I was saving myself for you? I have other friends, too, you know.
Raphael was sick, and at the same time ashamed to realize that he was actually jealous.
In bed that night she brought it up again. She raised up on one elbow, her heavy breast touching his arm. How is she? she asked, The other girl, I mean?
Its not that kind of thing, he answered sulkily. We just
talkhave coffee together once in a while, thats all.
Dont be coy, she said with a wicked little laugh, deliberately rubbing her still-erect nipple on his shoulder. A young man who looks like you do could have the panties off half the girls in Portland inside a week.
I dont go around taking peoples panties off.
You take mine off, she disagreed archly.
Thats different. He moved his shoulder away.
Why is it different?
Shes not that kind of a girl.
Every girl is that kind of a girl. She laughed, leaning forward so that the ripe breast touched him again. Were all alike. Is she as good as I am?
Oh, for Gods sake, Bel. Why dont we just skip all this? Nothings going on. Floods got a dirty mind, thats all.
Of course he has. Am I embarrassing you, sweet? We shouldnt be embarrassed by anythingnot here.
What about those other men? he accused, trying to force her away from the subject.
What about them?
I thoughtwell He broke off helplessly, not knowing how to pursue the subject.
Are you really upset because I sleep with other men once in a while? Are you really jealous, Angel?
Wellno, he lied, not really.
We never made any promises, did we? Did you think we were going steady or something? The persistent nipple continued its stroking of his shoulder.
I just didnt think you werewellpromiscuous is all.
Of course Im promiscuous. She laughed, kissing him. I had you in bed within twelve hours of the moment I met you. Is that the sort of thing youd expect from a nice girl? Im not exactly a bitch in heat, but a little variety never hurt anyone, did it?
He couldnt think of anything to say.
Dont sulk, Angel, she said almost maternally as she pulled
him to her again. Youve got my full attention at the moment. Thats about the best I can promise you.
His flesh responded to her almost against his will. Hed have liked to have been stubborn, but she was too skilled, too expert.
You should try her, Raphael, Isabel said almost conversationally a couple of minutes later. A little variety might be good for you, too. And who knows? Maybe shes better at it than I am. She laughed, and then the laugh traded off into a series of little gasps and moans as she began to move feverishly under him.
vi
The idea had not been there before. In Raphaels rather unsophisticated views on such matters, girls were divided into two distinct categoriesthose you took to bed and those you took to school dances. It was not that he was actually naive, it was just that such classification made his relations with girls simpler, and Raphaels views on such things were simplistic. He had been raised in a small, remote city that had a strongly puritanical outlook; his Canadian mother had been quite firm about being nice, a firmness in part deriving from her lurking fear that some brainless sixteen-year-old tramp might unexpectedly present her with a squalling grandchild. Raphaels football coach at high school, moreover, had taught Sunday school at the Congregational church, and his locker-room talks almost as frequently dealt with chastity as they did with the maiming of middle linebackers. Raphaels entire young life had been filled with one long sermon that concentrated almost exclusively on one of the thou shalt nots, the only amendment having been the reluctant addition ofwith nice girls. Raphael knew, of course, that other young men did not make a distinction between nice girls and the other kind, but it seemed somehow unsporting to him to seduce nice girls when the other sort was availablesomething on the order of poaching a protected speciesand sportsmanship had been drilled into him for so long that its sanctions had the force of religious dictum. Isabels sly insinuations, however, had planted the idea, and in the weeks that followed he found himself frequently looking at Marilyn Hamilton in a way he would not have considered before.
His relationship with the girl passed through all the normal stagescoffee dates in the Student Union, a movie or two, the first kiss, and the first tentative gropings in the front seat of a car parked in a secluded spot. They walked together in the rain; they held hands and they talked together endlessly and very seriously about things that were not particularly significant. They studied together in the dim library, and they touched each other often. They also drove frequently to a special spot they had found outside town where they parked, and in the steamy interior of Raphaels car with the radio playing softly and the misted windows curtaining them from the outside, they partially undressed each other and clung and groped and moaned in a frenzy of desire and frustration as they approached but never quite consummated the act that was becoming more and more inevitable.
Flood, of course, watched, one eyebrow cocked quizzically, gauging the progress of the affair by Raphaels increasing irritability and the lateness of his return to their room. No score yet, I see, hed observe dryly upon Raphaels return on such nights.
Why dont you mind your own damned business? Raphael would snap, and Flood would chuckle, roll over in his bed, and go back to sleep.
In those weeks Isabel became a virtual necessity to Raphael. With her he found a release for the tensions that had built up to an almost unbearable pitch during the course of the week. She gloated over the passion he brought to her, and sent him back to Portland on Sunday nights sufficiently exhausted to keep him short of the point of no return with the girl. The knowledge that Isabel was there served as a kind of safety valve for him, making it possible for him to draw back at that last crucial instant each time.
And so autumn ground drearily on with dripping skies and the
now-bare trees glistening wet and black in the rain. Isabel grew increasingly waspish, and finally announced that she was leaving for a few weeks. Ive got to get some sun, she said. This rains driving me up the wall.
Where are you going? Raphael asked her.
Phoenix maybe. VegasI dont know. I havent decided yet. Ive got to get away from the rain for a while.
There was nothing he could say. He knew he had no real hold on her, and he even welcomed the idea in a way. His visits had become almost a duty, and he had begun to resent her unspoken demands upon him.
After he had seen her off at the airport outside Portland, he walked back to his car almost with the sense of having been liberated.
On his first weekend date with Marilyn he felt vaguely guiltyalmost like an unfaithful husband. The weekends had always belonged to Isabel. He had not been entirely honest with Marilyn about those weekends. It was not that he had lied, exactly; rather, he had let her believe that Isabel was elderly, an old friend of his family, and that his weekly visits were in the nature of an obligation.
After the movie they drove to their special spot in the country and began the customary grappling. Perhaps because the weekends had always been denied to her and this evening was somehow stolen and therefore illicit, Marilyn responded to his caresses with unusual passion, shuddering and writhing under his hands. Finally she pulled free of him for an instant, looked at him, and spoke quite simply. Lets, she said, her voice thick and vibrant.
And so they did.
It was awkward, since they were both quite tall, and the steering wheel was horribly in the way, but they managed.
And afterward she cried. He comforted her as best he could and later drove her home, feeling more than a little ashamed of himself. There had been some fairly convincing evidence that, until that night, Marilyn had been one of the girls one would normally take to a school dance.
The next time they used the backseat. It was more satisfactory, and this time she did not cry. Raphael, however, was still a bit ashamed and wished they had not done it. Something rather special seemed to have been lost, and he regretted it.
After several weeks Isabel returned, her fair skin slightly tanned and her temper improved.
Flood accompanied Raphael to the lake on the first weekend, his eyes bright and a knowing smile on his face.
Raphael was moody and stalked around the house, stopping now and then to stare out at the rain, and drinking more than was usual for him. It was time, he decided, to break off the affair with Isabel. She was too wise for him, too experienced, and in a way he blamed her for having planted that evil seed that had grown to its full flower that night in the front seat of his car. If it had not been for her insinuating suggestions, his relationship with Marilyn might still be relatively innocent. Beyond that, she repelled him now. Her overripe figure seemed to have taken on a faint tinge of rottenness, and the smooth sophistication that had attracted him at first seemed instead to be depravity noweven degeneracy. He continued to drink, hoping to incapacitate himself and thus avoid that inevitable and now-disgusting conclusion of the evening.
Our Angel has fallen, Im afraid, Flood said after dinner when they were all sitting in front of the crackling fireplace.
Why dont you mind your own business, Damon? Raphael said, his words slurring.
Has he been naughty? Isabel asked, amused.
Repeatedly. Hes been coming in with claw marks on his back from shoulder to hip.
Why dont you keep your goddamn mouth shut? Raphael snapped.
Be nice, dear, Isabel chided him, and dont try to get muscular. My furnitures too expensive for that sort of foolishness.
I just want him to keep his mouth shut, thats all. Raphaels words sounded mushy even to him.
All right then. You tell me. Was it that girl?
He glared sulkily into the fireplace.
This wont be much of a conversation if you wont talk to me. Did she really scratch you, Angel? Let me see. She came across the room to him and tugged at his shirt.
Lay off, Bel, he warned, pushing her hands away. Im not in the mood for any of that.
Ohshe laughedits true then. Ive never liked scratching. Its unladylike.
How the hell would you know?
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her voice took on an edge. All the usual things, I suppose? Parked car, clumsy little gropings in the dark, the steering wheel?
Raphaels face flamed. She saw the flush and laughed, a deep, throaty sound that made him flush even more. You did! she exulted. In a car seat! My poor Angel, I thought Id taught you better. Are motels so expensive now? Or couldnt you wait? Was she a virgin?
Why dont we just drop this?
I think the boys in love, Junior, she said to Flood.
Heres to love. Flood toasted, raising his glass. And to steering wheels, of course.
Oh, thats cute, Hood, Raphael said sarcastically. It sounded silly even to him, but he didnt care.
Dont be nasty, dear. Isabels tone was motherly. It doesnt become you.
It was that note in her voice more than anythingthat tolerant, amused, superior tone that finally infuriated him. Dont patronize me, Bel, he told her, getting up clumsily. I wont take thatnot from you.
I dont think I Eke your tone, Raphael.
Good. At least I managed to insult you. I wasnt really sure I could.
Ive had about enough of this.
I had enough a long time ago. He picked up his jacket. Where are you going?
Someplace where the airs a little cleaner. Dont be stupid. Youre drunk. What if I am? He started to lurch toward the door. Stop him, Junior.
Raphael stopped and turned toward Flood, his jaw thrust forward pugnaciously.
Not me, Flood said, raising both hands, palms out. If you want to go, go ahead. His eyes, however, were savage.
Thats exactly what Im going to do. Raphael turned and stumbled out the door into the rain.
Raphael! Isabel called to him from the porch as he fumbled with his car keys. Dont be ridiculous. Come back into the house.