John Kellerman - Sisters in heat

She swallowed her nervousness and tried a pleasant smile. "It's something very important."

Gloria's expression didn't change. Gloria had never liked her very much, had never been close to her in-laws. Marcia wondered if it was because Nat had wanted kids and she didn't. Nat had brought her over to Ralph's a couple of times. His wife hadn't much liked the attention Marcia had received from her uncle.

Gloria looked at her over the curl of cigarette smoke that rose from the filtertip she clutched with the drink.

"I told you Nat ain't here." She made as if to close the door. "He's out on the road."

"Gloria… wait." Marcia stepped closer. A man's face appeared from the doorway of the living room.

"Hey, Gloria, what's keeping you?" The man saw Marcia and disappeared.

Gloria beamed pure hate at Marcia for having discovered the little secret.

"I told you he isn't here." She started to slam the door again.

"Please!" Marcia had her foot wedged in the crack. "It's very important."

Gloria looked at her, sipped the drink.

"You might catch him at the freight yard. Thompson's Trucking. On Carter and Fourth." She sucked at the cigarette. "He was supposed to be taking off for Denver early this afternoon." She shrugged. "You might catch him if you're lucky."

Marcia turned on her heel, felt Gloria's hand on her shoulder.

"Hey listen, Marcia about this…" She jerked her head back toward the loud music.

Marcia gave her a thin smile. "I won't say anything."

"A girl needs a change once in a while." Gloria shrugged, smoked her filtertip. She was a thin-faced woman with hard, shallow eyes and a mouth that always seemed to look a little angry. "Nat fools around when he's on the road. It's no big thing." She smiled at Marcia for the first time, but there was no real emotion in it. Marcia turned to go. "Thompson's Freight Yard, you said?"

"You hurry and you might make it," Gloria said, smile gone, her little con game finished. The record ended and someone was changing it.

"Hey, Gloria, get your little ass in here, baby," the man called. He sounded half drunk. Gloria's eyes dropped and she closed the door quickly.

Marcia took a cab to Thompson's Freight Yard. She told the driver she'd tip him big if he hurried. And when he pulled up next to the big dock, Marcia thought she saw Nat's bright red tractor waiting to back under a trailer. She'd seen her uncle polishing it in the driveway of his home often enough.

The driver changed the hundred dollar bill with some grumbling and she tipped him and got out. Uncle Nat was banging on the tires of the trailer with a big hammer when she ran up.

"Hey beautiful!" He hugged her and held her back to take a look. "Why haven't you visited me lately?" Uncle Nat was taller, bigger through the shoulders than her father though their facial features were similar. Nat was somewhat more handsome, at least Marcia had always thought so. And her father was a good-looking man himself.

"Nat… I've just got to talk to you about some trouble I'm in."

"Couldn't be too bad. You look good." He hugged her shoulders, walked her around the rig. "Remember when you'd ride with me to Memphis and I'd take you to the amusement park?" Nat shook his head, laughed. "You'd get a tummy full of hot-dogs and take over my sleeper. I had a hell of a time getting much rest in those days." He looked at her again, eyes soft. "You were only ten. But damn, girl, you sure did grow up."

"Nat…" She stopped, ashamed that she couldn't keep from loading her troubles on him.

"Oh yeah… you said you had some kind of troubles." Nat looked at his watch. "Look, sugar, I'm due out of here in ten minutes. Why don't you climb aboard and I'll use the CB to get a message to your folks." He punched her shoulder lightly. "Ain't you ready to see a little of Denver?"

Marcia grinned. She felt warm, protected. She felt so much better than she had just ten minutes before. "I don't think Mom would mind."

"And I know your old man won't." Nat grabbed a clipboard down from the cab, marked something on it. "Well shake a leg, sugar. We're on our way."

Marcia clambered up the narrow ladder and slid into the big seat. The dashboard was like she'd remembered. Full of important-looking dials that glistened with chrome and glass.

Nat swung easily up and into the seat and started the big rig going. It took them half an hour to work their way out of the freight yards and out to the interstate. Marcia was almost hypnotized watching Nat's big arms work the gears, and the even thrum of the diesel seemed so real, so comforting. It was as if Sam Philbert was, some nightmare she'd had.

She was leaving Sam now, speeding north in a big truck beside a big man. She had to fight the impulse to slip over and hold tightly to her uncle's arm. He'd been her protector since she was a child. And it turned out that he would be again.

"Okay, sugar," Nat said, getting into a road gear, letting the truck's speedometer nudge past the legal limit of fifty-five. "Let's hear all these big troubles you got."

Marcia told him everything. She told him slowly, not leaving out any details. Even the part in the hotel. She wouldn't have been able to tell even her parents that. And it wasn't exactly easy to relate to her uncle what Sam had done to her. How he'd tied her up the first time and used that… that vibrator.

Twice Marcia had to stop and sop up tears with Nat's handkerchief. He was grim-faced for a long time after she'd finished and she was afraid that he was ashamed of her. That he thought she was trashy for letting Sam get her involved. But then he took her hand and pulled her over close. She sobbed quietly against his chest as he smoothed her shoulder and talked.

"I know that bastard, see. His old man was a big shot in our local union for a while until they caught him with his hand in the till. He got into some heavier stuff after that and somebody shot hell out of him just before the D.A. was going to present evidence to a grand jury." Nat chewed a match. "Sam would like to be like his old man, but he's a punk. He's got a nightclub down in El Paso, I hear. Not a place you'd want to go to. Me either for that matter. He's got his hand in with some greyhound tracks on the coast. He's got money all right." Nat shrugged. "He's just a punk."

"But he said he might do something to my folk… or at least he hinted he would do something if I didn't…" Marcia flushed red, bit her finger. "If I didn't keep being his girl."

Nat laughed loud. "Sam Philbert doesn't have the guts for anything that heavy. He's bluffing you. He knows you're young and a little scared of him." Nat snorted and shook his head. "He doesn't even have any boys who'll do his dirty work. The Mafia keeps a close eye on him and he knows it. They wouldn't let him start acting like a real gangster."

"Oh Nat, you make me feel so much better…" Marcia kissed his cheek.

"When I get back from this run, I'll take a couple of buddies and we'll go lean on Sam Philbert a little bit." Nat chuckled, rubbed a bulging bicep. "He loves his fancy car and his sissy suits too much to push too hard. He's a punk, Marcia. A filthy little punk."

"I feel so ashamed that… that it all happened." She sniffled and blinked. "You've just got to think I'm a piece of trash for ever even going out with him."

Nat smiled, pulled her close again. "You're young. Sam knows what turns a young girl's head. The car, the high life, the watch and clothes." The diesel whooshed by a carload of gawking tourists. "He knows that young girls don't go for truckers." Nat was holding back a big smile.

"I love truckers! They're the best people in the world."

Marcia nestled her head against his chest and hugged his hard stomach. She'd forgotten how much warmth her uncle was capable of when she was a little girl, she'd needed more of that than her parents had ever given her. And Nat was always there. He had no children of his own. And he always seemed a little distant from Gloria.