Роберт Паркер - Robert B. Parker's Revelation

The day had been a hot one and the two of them, Driggs and the woman, stayed in the cool room, in the bed. After some twisting, digging, triggering, and ruling, Driggs got up and took a long pull of whiskey. He looked out the window, watching the good folks of Appaloosa going this way and that. He liked to watch out the window, the unsuspecting masses, those who had no idea just what the fuck was going on. He was growing fond of the city and its unsuspecting citizens.

He’d grown accustomed to the hotel room routine, too. Like the days previous when he got out of bed after he was done, he looked at her — like he was looking at her now — sprawled out and covered with sweat. He liked that. She was in every way ripe, and he enjoyed that about his princess, but most important, he admired her for her guileless fervor.

“Want me cleaned up?” she said in a purring voice.

He just stared at her and said nothing.

“You like me clean,” she said.

He remained silent, just looking at her.

“What about when I’m dirty?”

He smiled.

“But you like me clean and smelling like a rose, don’t you?” she said with a sly smile. “Don’t you?”

He smiled again, with his eyes now, boring into her.

“Wash me?” she said.

Driggs took another pull off the whiskey, looked out the window for a moment, then moved to the bed. He stood over her, looking down on her. Then he scooped up her naked body and held her, just looking at her. Then he turned, walked with her in his arms, and gently placed her in the bathtub in the corner. He slid his fingers through her sweaty hair, gathered a handful of her thick mane, and leaned her head back so he could have a good look at her eyes, but said nothing. He just looked at her and she just looked back at him.

“You make me hungry,” she said.

“I know,” he said.

Driggs pulled back her hair some more, stretching her long, sensuous neck. He caressed her neck, then... laid his princess slowly back in the tub.

“Rain...” she said, with the anticipation of a little girl.

She closed her eyes. Driggs stared at her, then reached up and pulled the cord. The cord opened a valve allowing the rooftop tank water to shower over her body. She sat up straight when the cool water hit her hot body.

“Oh,” she said.

Then she relaxed and let the water pour over her head.

“My God, that feels good,” she said.

After a decent amount of water rained down, Driggs pulled the valve closed, got the rose-scented soap, and began to lather her body. He slowly washed her, every inch of her: her sharp shoulders, her narrow back, and her long legs. She lay back, enjoying his gentle touch. Then he opened the valve again and rinsed her. After, she stepped out of the tub and he finished by toweling her dry. Then he popped his princess with a sharp slap on her butt — signaling that her bath was complete.

She turned to him, looking up at him. He leaned down and kissed her.

“My turn,” she said. “To clean you.”

Driggs smiled. He took a drink, then moved over and stepped his big frame into the tub and lowered into the soapy water. Then she reciprocated, and just as Driggs had washed her, she washed his hard body, scrubbing him clean.

“What are we going to do?” she said.

He looked to her and smiled.

“We’re doing it.”

“Are we going to stay in Appaloosa forever?”

“Forever?” he said. “That’s an eternity, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she said.

“No,” he said. “Not forever, not for an eternity.”

“Once your business is done here,” she said, “maybe we could go someplace back east, someplace more civilized.”

She lingered over the bullet holes in his back.

“Tell me,” she said.

“What?”

“I want to know about these,” she said. “About who shot you and why.”

He just looked at her and said nothing.

“Don’t you want to tell me about these?” she said as she circled the washcloth gently over the scars. “’Bout what happened?”

Driggs looked back to her, smiled.

“You know what I’d rather do?” he said.

“What?”

Driggs reached over and grabbed the straight-edged razor lying next to the tub...

She looked to the razor and recoiled.

He smiled.

“I’d like you to shave me,” he said. “I see my whiskers have left you a little raw in places.”

After he was shaved, cleaned, and toweled, he rolled a cigarette. Then he sat on the bed, struck a match, and lit the tip. He took a few good puffs, then leaned back against the headboard. He smoked and watched her dry her hair as she patted it smooth between thin white cotton towels.

“We’re clean,” she said with a giggle as she sat on the edge of the bed. “We’re clean.”

Driggs just looked at her. He marveled at her delicate features and at the fluidity of her movement. He wondered about her fight and her will to live, her will to survive — what it would be like to strangle her.

Later, in the late afternoon, Driggs strolled with her up Vandervoort Avenue and stopped into Allie’s shop to pick up the altered dress he’d purchased.

Allie and Margie were excited to see the couple. Once in the shop, Driggs sat like the perfect gentleman he purported to be as Allie and Margie led his beautiful princess behind the screen and helped her out of one dress and into the brand-new one.

Driggs looked around the room as he waited. He was as calm as could be, but there was a small fire beginning to burn somewhere deep inside him. He could not deny that. He was accustomed to the fire, though, it was his friend, perhaps his only real friend. Oh, she tried and she believed — like the others before her — that she was endeared. And on one hand the princess was most assuredly endeared, she was in the lap of care and consideration, but on the other hand she was dangerously far from it. She was more endangered than endeared.

His eyes wandered around the shop. There were delicate hats with lace and a few hanging dresses up front near the windows. There were photographs from catalogs arranged in managed clusters and tacked to the walls. Shelves stacked with horsehair, wire, and netting covered the back wall next to the screened dressing area.

He looked up to the beams, then trained his eyes toward the front of the building, to the entrance made from brand-new bricks that were laid in a handsome arch over the door. He thought about the design and the integrity and the craftsmanship of the arch. Slowly he turned and looked at himself in the mirror. He stared at his handsome self, long and hard. Then he smiled and nodded to the reflection of the man in the mirror. It was like he was acknowledging an old pal or perhaps a new acquaintance. He stared at the man for a long moment. His reverie was broken momentarily when he heard the women giggle, but then Driggs was brought right back into looking at the man in the mirror staring back at him. Driggs continued staring at himself, then said out loud, “The anticipation is killing me...”

“Patience,” the princess said from behind the dressing screen.

She then poked her head around the corner of the screen and said with a smile, “Good things are worth waiting for, my dear.” He could see the ribbon edging of her cotton camisole draped around her slender collar bone.