Richard Laymon - Flesh

“What about his girlfriend?” Alison asked. “I thought you said he was going with some gal.”

“Yeah, he was. Guess he saw the error of his ways.”

“Maybe he likes to date cripples,” Helen suggested.

“Wants to use her for a base,” Alison said.

“Wants to slide in,” Helen added.

“You two are a riot.”

“We’re just jealous,” Helen told her. “We just wish we could go to the Lobster Shanty with a freshman.”

“I’ll call him back,” Celia said. “Maybe he can set up one of you guys with Roland.”

“I’m not selfish, Alison can have him.”

Celia turned her head on the cushion and smiled at Alison. “We’ll make it a double date, just like junior high.”

“Pardon me while I heave.”

“I realize Roland probably isn’t as handsome and worldly as Evan, but hey, it’s Saturday night, you don’t want to sit around alone on Saturday night, do you?”

“Besides,” Helen added, “he’s obviously got a good case of the hots for you.”

“A case of the hards,” Celia said.

“Way he was eyeing you yesterday…”

“Stripping you with his eyes…”

The talk made Alison feel squirmy. “I’d really like to double with you, Celia, but I happen to know that Roland has other plans. He’s got this ménage à trois scheduled for tonight.”

Helen snorted.

“Chortle, chortle,” Celia said.

Alison eyed Helen. “She thinks I’m joking. Don’t you find it a trifle peculiar that Jason, who has never before asked Celia out—in spite of her beauty and wit—should invite her to dinner the very day after her chance encounter at the shopping mall with his roommate, Roland?”

Helen stroked her heavy lower lip, and nodded. “’Tis passing strange.”

Celia smirked. “Tell you what, Roland shows up for dinner, I’ll give him my house key and tell him I got two horny roommates just dying for a piece of him.” She winked at Helen. “And I’ll advise him to bring chips.”

“So what do you think?” Celia asked.

Alison, on the recliner, set her yellow highlighting pen into the gutter of the Chaucer text she had been studying for the past two hours, and looked up. “Not bad.”

The bandage was gone from Celia’s brow. Tied around her head was a blue silk scarf that concealed the abrasion. The scarf was knotted over her left ear, and its ends hung almost to her shoulder. She wore big, hoop earrings.

“You look like Long John Silver,” Alison said.

“Cute, huh?”

“Matter of fact, you look great.”

“You’d never know I was damaged goods, would you?”

“Just by your reputation,” Helen said, coming in from the kitchen with a stein of beer and a can of peanuts. She held the can toward Celia.

“No thanks, I’m saving all my room for dinner.”

“Where’s your sling?” Helen asked.

“I’m not going to the Lobster Shanty with a goddamn sling on my arm.” She lifted the arm stiffly away from her side. “I’ve got a bandage on the elbow. And both knees.”

“I’m surprised you have an outfit that’ll cover them,” Helen said.

“It’s the best I could do.”

The blue gown had sleeves to her forearms and its skirt reached well below her knees, covering her bandages but not entirely hiding them. They showed, Alison noticed, because of the way the glossy fabric clung to every inch of her. She appeared to wear three bandages beneath the gown, and nothing else.

Celia looked down at herself. “I would’ve preferred something that showed a little in front,” she said, fingering the neck band at her throat.

“Cellophane might show more,” Helen said, and dropped onto the sofa. “Peanut?” She tossed one to Alison. Alison snatched it out of the air and popped it into her mouth.

“This is a problem,” Celia said, “but I don’t know what I can do about it.” She turned sideways and took a step. Her right leg, bare to the hip, came out of a slit in the gown. The knee was wrapped with a brown elastic band. “I tried taking off the bandage, but the knee really sucks without it.”

“You could try a body stocking,” Alison suggested.

“Har!” Helen blared.

“The thing is,” Alison said, “he knows you were hurt. There’s no big deal if he happens to see your bandages.”

“He’ll see them all anyway,” Helen said, “once you throw your dress on the floor.”

“She won’t throw her dress on the floor,” Alison said. “Roland’ll hang it up for her.”

“Comedians up the wazoo. What time is it?”

Helen checked her wristwatch. “Six-twenty.”

“Good. He’s picking me up at ten till seven. I think I’ll have a little—”

“I’d want to get drunk too,” Helen said, “if I was going out in public wearing that.”

“You went out in public wearing this,” Celia said, “the public should get drunk.” She grinned at Alison. “Get you something?”

“Thanks. Whatever you’re having.”

Celia went into the kitchen.

“God, she looks fabulous,” Helen whispered. “I looked ten percent as good as her…” She shook her head and sighed. “Life’s tough, then you die.”

“Let’s send out for a pizza after she’s gone.”

Helen raised her thick eyebrows. “Well, maybe life ain’t so tough.”

A few minutes later, Celia returned carrying a tray with her left hand. Two tumblers were balanced on the tray. “Double vodka gimlets,” she announced as Alison took one of the glasses.

“You’re going to be polluted before he even gets here,” Helen said.

“Just a little something for what ails me. Besides, he’s driving.” She set the tray carefully on the table, then lowered herself onto the sofa and lifted her glass.

Alison took a sip. The drink was very strong. She frowned at Celia. “Are you sure about tonight?” she asked.

Staring into her glass, Celia shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not going to call off my life just because some bastard wracked me up.”

“Maybe you need some time.”

“Sit around and think about it?”

“I think it hit you pretty hard.”

“You’re telling me?”

“Emotionally, I mean.”

“Alison’s right,” Helen said. “You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. You almost got killed and that guy died. It’s pretty heavy stuff.”

“I’m handling it, okay? What’re you trying to do, ruin my appetite?” She took another drink. “I’ll be fine. And I’ll be a lot finer after a couple of drinks and a lobster dinner with a nice guy who likes me and happens to be a hunk even if he is a freshman. I appreciate your concern, but knock it off, okay? I’m fine.”

“It’s a good drink,” Alison said. “Pretty soon, we’ll both be fine.”

“Yeah, but I’ll be with a charming gorgeous man and you’ll be with Helen. Eat your heart out.”

“Hey,” Alison said, “you’re depressing me.”

A peanut bounced off her forehead and plopped into her drink. It floated on her vodka. She picked it out. Grinning, she flicked it into her mouth. The salt was gone. She fished an ice cube out of her glass and studied it.

“Hey, no,” Helen pleaded. “Come on, you could hurt somebody with that.”

“You’re right. What could I have been thinking?” She tossed it at Helen.

Squealing, Helen hunched her shoulders and twisted in her chair. She flinched when the ice dropped onto her lap. Her hand jerked. A foamy tongue of beer slurped over the edge of her stein and flopped onto her breast. “Yeee-ah!”

“Woops,” Alison said.

“Golly,” Celia said. “Maybe I’ll phone up Jason right now and call it off. I can see that it’ll be a lot more fun around here tonight.”