Richard Laymon - Flesh

“You kidding? This is an Aran sweater.”

“Whatever you say.”

Helen, higher on the stairs, turned up the broad brim of her rain hat. Her face appeared, and she smiled as if pleasantly surprised to find herself in the company of others.

Three steps from the bottom, Alison leaped. Her bent knees absorbed the impact.

“Gimme a break,” Celia called.

Grinning, Alison walked backward. “This is neat weather,” she said. “Invig—”

“L’gout, now.”

Something prodded her spine.

Celia started to laugh.

Whirling around, Alison found a knotty cane leveled at her belly. At the cane’s other end stood Dr. Teal, a grocery bag in his free hand. He swung the cane back, resting it on his shoulder. As he looked at the three, his eyebrows lifted, crinkling his brow. “Setting out, I see. A fine day for an excursion.”

“A blustery day,” Alison told him. He was a man who appreciated allusions.

“Keep a sharp eye out for Eeyore’s tail,” he said.

“Want a hand with the groceries?” Alison asked.

“Thanks for the offer, but I must not keep you from your expedition. Proceed!” He stepped off the cobblestones into the wind-bent grass, and made a sweeping gesture with his cane.

Alison stepped past him and turned around. Celia tipped her cap to the professor.

“You, my dear, have looked better.”

“I got a little banged up.”

“I’m very sorry to hear it.”

“You oughta see the other guy.”

Shaking his head, the old professor patted her gently on the shoulder as she stepped by.

“Say-hay,” Helen greeted him.

“Say-hay.” He leaned close to her and said something Alison couldn’t hear. Then he walked around the stairway, stopped at his side door, and propped his cane against the wall.

Alison walked a little farther, then waited for the others to catch up. “What’d he say?” she asked Helen.

“I don’t know, some nonsense. That guy’s battier every time I see him.”

“But what did he say?” Alison persisted.

“‘Let the albatross live.’ Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“I think,” said Alison, “he was saying he liked your outfit.”

As she reached the sidewalk, she saw a man on the next block. He was leaning into the wind, clutching his tan jacket shut. He had light brown hair like Evan. Alison felt her heart quicken. She squinted, trying to see him better.

They’ll just have to go on without me, she thought. They’ll understand.

He’s come back to me. In spite of my ultimatum.

She’d almost given up hoping, but Evan must’ve decided to try the new arrangement.

She was glad she was wearing the jumpsuit. Of all her outfits, it was Evan’s favorite. The zipper down the front drove him wild.

As she walked toward him, she popped open the snaps of her windbreaker and lowered the jumpsuit zipper a few inches.

She could take him to the house. It would be warm and cozy, and they would have the place all to themselves until Celia and Helen got back.

Not such a great idea, she thought. It’d be asking for trouble.

On the other hand, it would be a good test. If Evan, could resist temptation under those circumstances…

The man was closer, now.

He didn’t look so much like Evan, anymore.

He turned away at the corner, and his profile was all wrong—his nose too long, his chin too weak.

“That guy looked a little like Evan,” Celia said.

Alison shrugged. She felt cheated and empty. “Evan can take a flying leap,” she muttered.

The warmth of the enclosed shopping mall felt good. Alison’s windbreaker was light enough so that she wasn’t bothered by keeping it on, but she pitied Helen. The poor gal had to feel stifled under the heavy raincoat.

Don’t feel too sorry for her, Alison thought. She could’ve put on decent clothes if she hadn’t been so lazy.

The three wandered along the concourse, close to the left side. While Celia and Helen looked into shops, Alison scanned the other shoppers. Many of them were students. One of them might be Evan.

At Contempo Casuals, Celia stopped and gazed at the mannequins near the entrance. “I want to check it out,” she said, and they entered.

Helen took off her huge, floppy hat. Her round face looked moist and florid. She opened the top buckle of her coat.

“Better stop there,” Celia warned. “They’ll sound the slob alarm.”

“Eat it,” Helen said. But she left the lower buckles alone.

They followed Celia to the rear of the store, where she began looking at negligees.

“You’re not getting another,” Helen said.

“Oh no?”

“What’ve you got, twenty of them? And at the rate you go through guys, none of them gets a chance to see more than one, anyway.”

“Jealous?”

Helen just shook her head.

Celia took her time studying the selection, lifting various garments on their hangers and inspecting them, pondering, putting them back. She went about the task one-handed, so after a while Alison began to help by returning the rejected garments to the crowded racks. At last, Celia found one she seemed to like. She turned to Alison, holding it up. “What do you think?”

It was a backless nightie, very short, of glossy royal blue. It had spaghetti straps which tied at the back of the neck, and an open, plunging front. The cups were wisps of blue gauze.

“Figures you’d pick a thing like that,” Helen said.

“Looks fine to me.” Alison wondered if there was another one just like it. If Evan saw her in something like that…Forget him.

“I wouldn’t get it,” Helen said.

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

With one side of her lip curled up, Helen flicked the sheer gauze. “You don’t want that. And I’m not talking modesty here. I realize you’re far beyond such things.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“That color. It’ll make your titties look sick. You want to look like you’ve got blue boobs and purple nips?”

Celia raised her eyebrows. She looked at Alison.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Alison admitted.

“See if they’ve got the same thing in black,” Helen suggested.

“Good idea.” She smiled. “Thanks.”

“Though, if you ask me, you’d be better off putting your money in potato chips.”

Alison held the blue nightie until Celia, searching the rack, came up with a black one in the same style. “Great,” Celia said. “Perfect.”

Alison hooked the hanger over the rail, then unhooked it and looked again at the garment. The blue was deep, bright, and shiny. She caressed the fabric. It felt slick, and clung to her hand. She wondered how it would feel on her, how it would look. She had never owned anything like this. She raised her eyes. Celia and Helen were both staring at her. She grinned.

“Blue boobs,” Helen warned.

“I can live with it,” she said.

Celia grinned. “A little something just in case Evan comes through?”

“What happened to your vow of chastity?” Helen asked.

“This has nothing to do with it,” Alison said.

“Oh, no?”

As they left the shop with their purchases, Alison offered to carry Celia’s bag.

“Yeah,” Helen said. “Take it off her hands. Something like that, it must weigh a ton.”

“Maybe you should’ve bought one,” Celia told her.

“Ready to go?” Helen asked, ignoring the remark.

“We just got here.”

She curled her upper lip. There were sparkles of sweat above it. She had to be suffering, Alison thought, trapped inside that heavy raincoat.

“Maybe we should go,” Alison said.

“I just want to be fair to you guys,” Celia explained. “Poor Helen needs to ogle the puppies and hit the doughnut shop, and you want to check out the bookstore, don’t you?”