Unknown - Bea_s pony

"We all three came at about the same time and toppled over. Jack had had a lot to drink and went off into dreamland almost at once. I mean he went out. Talk about sawing wood!" she exclaimed.

"Mr. Young said to follow him, and he went into another bedroom where he made love to me extra special. I asked him where you were, and he said you were sleeping. I asked him if you would mind if you knew what he were doing, and he said 'No, you didn't have any strings on him and vice-versa.'"

"Was that it then?" I asked, irritated beyond compare. I was seething inside. I wanted to get into the car and drive over there and break something over his head. I looked down at the floor and began mentally counting the tiles in an effort to take my mind off the whole thing.

"That was it," she said. "What a night!"

I sat, staring at the floor and drumming my fingers on the table.

"Helen," I began, "what do you think happened to Clyde?" I got up from the table and walked slowly over to the door leading to the back yard. The pony was eating the lawn with singular dedication.

"I don't know, Bea," she responded, apparently puzzled by my question.

"I mean," I said without turning, "what do you, Helen Smallwood, personally think happened that day? You must have some notion or theory. Your mind can't be a blank."

"I'm afraid it is though," she replied. "I haven't the faintest notion where he can be."

"Suppose we forget for the moment where he might be right now," I argued. "How do you think he got out of the house?" I turned around and faced her.

"I don't know that either, Bea. There didn't seem to be any explanation. There was no way he could have possibly gotten out."

"Exactly!" I said. "There was no way he could have gotten out by himself."

"Are you suggesting someone took him out?" Helen asked. "How did they get in? There was no sign of forced entry anywhere."

I saw the realization of what I had planned for her to think spread across her face. "J-Jack?" She looked up at me in amazement. "You think Jack took Clyde? But he didn't get home until evening," she protested. Her face reddened suddenly. "Besides, for what reason would he do a sneaky thing like that?"

"I'm not sure that he did, Helen," I confessed, walking back and sitting down. She was on the verge of resentment at my accusation. It was the reaction I had expected and wanted somehow. I picked up a nail file and fussed at my fingernails.

"No? You sure seem secretly pleased at the idea if you're not," she perceived. The thought I had planted in her mind was cankering there. "Well?" she asked suddenly. "Is that all you have to say, that you're not sure?"

"I'm not sure," I repeated, looking down at my nails. "There are just some things that make me think of the possibility."

"What things?" she asked.

"Somebody that had a key would have had to let him out of the house," I stated. "I heard Jack say last night at John's that he got back early on Tuesday, not Tuesday night as we assumed."

"He probably meant he got back to the office early in the day," Helen countered. "He doesn't always come directly home after a business trip."

"Then there's that telephone number," I brought out. "The number of a man who keeps a lot of animals at his place. Why would Jack have had just that number on a slip of paper?"

"Didn't we already discuss that?" Helen reminded. "It's undoubtedly a business contact. You said that man owned a garage."

"Yes," I agreed, "But wouldn't it have been more likely Jack would carry the telephone number of the garage? The number on the slip is a home phone," I informed her.

"Oh, Bea," Helen said impatiently, "he knows dozens of those guys personally. Goes on hunting and fishing trips all the time. I even know some of the wives."

"The telephone number of a friend like that would be in some kind of address book, wouldn't it?" I asked. "Jack must keep account books, too. This was a fresh piece of paper, and you said yourself you never heard him mention the name before."

She practically glared at me. "Is that where you're going this morning?" she wanted to know.

I nodded.

"Well, I'm going too," she announced, getting up out of her seat. "Excuse me," she said. "I'm going to get dressed." Her tone was short and curt.

I watched her as she trailed out of the kitchen in the robe. If we found Clyde out there, she was going to be madder than hell at Jack. Either way, she would be angry with me for some time.

I had played with my nails long enough. They hadn't really needed any manicuring. It was just a nervous habit, and I had been nervous talking to my sister. I hadn't intended mentioning the, possibility of Jack taking Clyde until I was absolutely sure, and even then if I could have arranged it with Jack, I might have kept it from her.

Was I really so upset about John with Helen that I had wanted to get even? I had always loved my sister above all others, and now I had deliberately made her uncomfortable.

I stood up and stretched. A warm, pleasureful sensation ran down through my vulva. I squeezed my breasts lightly and walked back to the bedroom to get dressed.

We were out on the highway to Fort Worth when Helen spoke to me.

"If we find Clyde out there, what shall I do?" she asked.

"About Jack?"

"Yes," she replied.

"He'll have to have an explanation," I said. "Helen," I said in all seriousness, "is there any possibility he might have come home early one day and caught you with Clyde without you seeing him?"

"We always did it downstairs," she said. "Clyde doesn't like to go up and down that staircase," she mentioned. "I suppose," she went on, "if Jack had looked in a window."

"What would he have done?" I asked. "Gone out and gotten drunk and sworn to get rid of the dog, right?"

She puckered up her mouth and nodded.

"He's just going to have to live with both you and Clyde, Helen," I insisted. "Compromise. Tell him you only play with Clyde when he's away on trips because you get so lonely for him. Tell him about all your girl friends who play with men when their husbands are away. Ask him if he'd like that better?"

"You know how he can get, Bea," Helen demurred. "You know how it has been with that pony. I don't think it would work."

"If you would just take a stand. I know he loves you," I argued. "You said he would put up with almost anything. Put it to the test."

"He wants to be a part of it," Helen said.

"Figure out a way," I urged her.

We were silent for a long time then. We passed through Fort Worth easily. Helen knew a way to get around to the other side without running into a lot of traffic. She was still sulky to an extent. I knew finding Clyde would be a tonic to her whatever the circumstances.

We had been driving along a back road to the northwest for some time when Helen announced she had to go to the bathroom real bad. After about another mile we saw a service station up ahead on the left. It turned out to be a small rural station offering a cut rate brand of gasoline.

Helen parked the car away from the pumps so as not to give the impression we wanted gas, and we got out.

A beefy kid of about twenty-one or two came pounding out of the little station house grinning from ear to ear.

"Ma'am!" he greeted us. "Got troubles?"

"Bathroom troubles," I said. "Where's the rest room?" I looked around the back of the house for a doorway but could find none.

An older man came running out of the house. "What is it, Homer?" He asked the fat boy. "What do them ladies want? You ladies lost?" he addressed us.

"Stopped by just to use the rest rooms, Pa," he told the older man. "I'll go on down and tidy up," he said, padding off behind the house.

"That boy's a real worker," the man informed us. "Real clever with his hands. Should have been a carpenter."