Richard Laymon: Flesh

“I think so,” she replied, frowning and nodding. “ ‘Cause you know, I like how you read. You read a lot better than Daddy. And you know what else? When Daddy used to take me to the moojies and I had to go pee…” She covered her mouth and tittered. Pressing a tiny shoulder against Alison, she tilted her head back and took her hand away and whispered, “He made me go in the wrong John and there were men peeing in the sinks! It was so gross!”

“In the sinks?”

“Yes!”

“Well, I guess I’d better not let him take you to the moojies anymore without me.”

“No more without you.”

Alison closed the book. “Now, I’d better let you get some sleep. We need to get up bright and early for the zoo.”

“Think we’ll see a Woozle?”

“One never knows about Woozles.” Alison got up. She slipped the book onto the shelf while Kimmy crawled between the sheets.

Alison tucked her in, then knelt beside the bed. Kimmy tucked Clew into the top of her nightgown. “Gonna say your prayers?” Alison asked.

Kimmy grinned. “No, you. Do that one you told me. The spooky one.”

“Maybe you should do a nice one. I don’t want to be a corrupting influence.”

“I want the spooky one,” Kimmy insisted.

“Well, all right.” Alison shut her eyes and folded her hands on the mattress. “From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night, oh, Lord, deliver us.”

“Neat,” Kimmy said.

“Sleep tight.” She started to get up.

“You forgot to kiss me.”

Alison bent over Kimmy. The girl’s arms wrapped around her neck, pulling her down with a tight hug. From the force of it, Alison expected a hard, mashing kiss. But Kimmy’s lips pushed against her mouth with such lingering tenderness that tears came into her eyes. “See you in the morning, sweetheart,” she said as she stood up.

“Don’t forget to save me some popcorn.”

“Never fear. Do you want the record on?”

“Side two.”

Alison flipped the record and turned on the stereo. She dimmed the lamp on Kimmy’s table, looked back at her with Clew tucked into the neck of her nightgown and one arm around Cookie Monster, waved, and left the room.

At the entrance to the living room, she saw Jake on the sofa. A huge bowl of popcorn rested on the cushion beside him. There were two glasses of cola on the table at his knees. Instead of joining him, she went into the kitchen. She took one of Kimmy’s cereal bowls from a drawer. It had Charlie Brown and Snoopy on it. She carried it into the living room, bent over the large bowl and started scooping popcorn in.

“Boy, she’s got you well trained,” Jake said.

“My word is my bond.” She carried Kimmy’s serving into the kitchen, left it on the counter, and returned.

She’d been hot in her robe. Jake watched as she took it off. She was wearing a red, jersey nightshirt she had bought that day at the university store. “What do you think?” she asked, turning in front of him.

“Nice. Though I have a certain attachment for your blue negligee.”

“It brings back some bad memories.”

“Not for me.”

“Then I’ll wear it once in a while.” She lifted the popcorn bowl and sat down beside Jake. The nightshirt was very short. She felt the sofa upholstery against her bare skin. Her stomach fluttered. For an instant, she was sliding into the seat of Evan’s car, the shirttails too short to cover her buttocks.

“What’s the matter?” Jake asked. He was so quick to notice the slightest changes in her moods.

“A little flashback.”

“I’m sorry.”

She mugged at him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just hate to see you upset.”

“I know.” She set the popcorn bowl on her lap. It felt warm against her bare thighs. “It’s just that you look so woebegone when you ‘sorry’ me. Have some popcorn.”

He dug in a big hand and took out a fistful.

“What did you rent for tonight?”

“Halloween and The Hills Have Eyes.”

“Fantastic!”

“I bet you’ve already seen them.”

“Of course,” Alison said.

“They do have such things as comedies at the video store.”

“They’re not nearly as much fun.”

Jake grinned, shook his head, and tumbled some popcorn into his mouth. “Amazing,” he said, after chewing for a moment. “It really doesn’t bother you, watching this kind of thing? After what happened?”

“The movies are pretend.”

“I’d think they might give you flashbacks.”

“They do. Sometimes. But all kinds of things do. It’s only been three weeks.”

“Three great weeks,” Jake said.

“Yeah.”

She watched Jake munch some more popcorn. She took a handful, tossed some into her mouth, and flinched. “Ow!”

Jake looked at her, startled.

“It’s too damn hot to eat.”

Now he looked perplexed.

Alison lifted the bowl off her lap, leaned forward and set it on the table. “I think we’d better let it cool off for a while, don’t you? We don’t want to burn our tongues while we watch the movies.”

“Oh. Right.” Jake blushed a little.

Alison pulled the nightshirt over her head. Facing him, she began to open the buttons of his pajama shirt. He swallowed the remains of his popcorn. He stared into her eyes. His gaze roamed downward, lingering on her naked body.

Alison watched his hands move slowly toward her until his fingertips trembled against her breasts. The hand that had held the popcorn felt grainy with salt, and slick. “Woops,” he whispered. He took the hand away and rubbed it on his pajama pants, leaving an oily smear.

The oil and butter on Alison’s breast gleamed in the lamplight. “You’d better lick it clean,” she said.

He did.

As his tongue lapped and swirled, Alison slipped the shirt down his arms. She gasped and arched her back when he sucked.

Then his mouth went to her mouth and his arms went around her.

Alison fell sideways against the sofa back and stretched her legs under the table. Jake pushed his tongue into her mouth. She tugged the waistband of his pajamas. The snaps popped open and she pulled at the pajamas until he was bare against her, smooth and hard.

His tongue left her mouth. He kissed her lips, her chin, the side of her neck. His hands roamed, caressing her shoulder blades, gliding down, curling over her buttocks, moving up again.

They stayed away from the middle of her spine.

Gently clutching his hair, Alison eased his head away and looked into his eyes. “You never touch me… there.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Where it was.”

“I guess not,” he whispered. Alison could feel his penis shrinking against her thigh.

“Does it disgust you?”

“No. God, no. Nothing about you disgusts me.”

“It was in me.”

“Nothing’s in there, now. I watched the doctor clean the wound, and—”

“But you’re afraid to touch me there.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Scared you’ll catch something?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s healed. All but the scar.”

“You want me to touch it?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“It isn’t that,” he muttered, looking miserable.

“What is it?”

“ I did it to you. I stabbed you, cut you open. I hurt you, and when I see the wound or touch it, it all comes back, how you cried out and jumped and dug your nails into the floor. It all comes back how much I hurt you.”

“You mean it’s guilt, just guilt?”

“You might say that.”

“Dipshit, you saved my life.” Alison pressed her cheek to his and held him tight. “I look at it in the mirror. It’s special, Jake. It’s you cutting into me and taking out the nightmare.”