Эд Макбейн - Last Summer

The burnt pines were gnarled and black against the sky.

“Are you all right?” I asked Rhoda.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said.

“Do you want me to carry that blanket?”

“No, I can manage.”

We found the huge boulder, as black as the skeletal trees surrounding it. Sandy went to it unerringly and kicked aside some bleached and rodent-picked bones that might have been the gull’s, I don’t know. We spread the poncho on the ground. I sat with my back against the boulder, and Rhoda sat beside me. I was trembling. David opened four bottles of beer.

“No, I don’t want any,” Rhoda said.

“Take one,” Sandy said. There was a sudden flick of harshness in her voice.

“All... all right,” Rhoda said.

David handed her an open bottle, and then sat on the poncho with us. Sandy was still standing. She accepted the bottle of beer David offered to her, tilted it to her mouth, said, “Skoal,” and drank. “Mmm, that’s good,” she said. “Isn’t it good, Rhoda?”

“It’s just that it’s so bitter,” Rhoda said.

“Got to take the bitter with the sweet, baby,” David said, and laughed. He drank, belched, said, “Beg your pardon,” and drank some more.

“It’s just as hot here as it was on the beach,” Sandy said.

“Not a breeze,” David said.

“Why don’t we go?” I said, and started to get up.

“After all that climbing?” Sandy said. “Sit down, Peter.”

I eased myself back against the boulder. Sandy finished her beer and threw the bottle into the bushes.

“Another one?” David asked.

“Why not?” she said.

“Isn’t anybody hungry?” Rhoda asked.

“I’m famished, baby,” David said, and laughed again. There was an odd sound to his laughter. He seemed very nervous. He belched again, drained his bottle, and tried to throw it into the bushes where Sandy had thrown hers. But the bottle hit the branch of a burnt tree, and the branch broke off and fell to the forest floor. A cloud of black dust rose on the air. The sound of the crackling branch echoed and then died. David handed Sandy another open bottle.

“Skoal,” she said.

“Skoal,” David said, and again laughed the same nervous laugh.

“You’re not drinking, Rhoda.”

“I really don’t like the taste of it,” Rhoda said, and put her bottle down.

Good , I thought.

“It won’t go to waste,” Sandy said, and shrugged.

“We’ll share it,” David said.

“Share and share alike, right,” Sandy said, and giggled. “Right, Peter?”

“What?”

“Share and share alike, right?”

“Oh,” I said, “yes.”

“Wouldn’t anyone like a sandwich?” Rhoda asked, and reached into the brown paper bag.

“Don’t knock over that beer, honey,” David said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I...”

“Here, let me have that,” Sandy said. She lifted Rhoda’s bottle, and then, holding a bottle in either hand, drank a little from each one and said, “Major truth: it is very hot in this goddamn forest. Remember that day, Peter? Remember the truth serum?”

“Yes,” I said, and glanced at Rhoda.

“Hey, you said we would share it,” David said, and got up and walked to where Sandy was standing. She handed him the bottle. He drained it and threw it into the bushes.

“There’s ham,” Rhoda said, “and there’s also roast beef. What would you like, Peter?”

“Peter would like to finish his beer,” Sandy said.

“I thought...”

“Wouldn’t you, Peter?”

“Well, I can eat at the same time,” I said, and shrugged. “I’ll have a ham sandwich, Rhoda.”

“Rhoda made those sandwiches with her own little hands,” Sandy said. “Didn’t you, Rhoda?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Going to make someone a great little wife,” David said, and sat down again.

“Can you sew, Rhoda?”

“Well, not really too well.”

“She can’t sew, David.”

“Pity. I guess she won’t make someone a great little wife.”

I took the sandwich, bit into it, and washed it down with beer. “Doesn’t anybody else want to eat?” I asked.

“I’ll have something,” Rhoda said, and reached into the bag again.

“I thought you said it was too hot to eat,” Sandy said.

“That was on the beach,” Rhoda answered, and again I thought Good , and couldn’t understand why I’d thought it, or even what I meant by it.

“And this is in the forest,” Sandy said, “and it’s hot as hell in the forest, too.” She lifted the half-full bottle she was holding in her hand, and suddenly poured beer onto her breasts and into the front of her bikini top. “Ahhhhh,” she said, “that’s better,” and tossed the empty bottle away. “But now my top is wet,” she said, giggling. “Peter, my top is wet.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Don’t you like girls who say things like My top is wet?”

“Yes, sure,” I said.

“Don’t you appreciate my honesty?”

“Sure I do.”

“Why don’t you take it off?” David suggested.

“Ho-ho,” Sandy said, and rolled her eyes.

“Are we out of beer?” David asked.

“When you’re out of beer,” Sandy said, “you’re out of beer.”

“You can have what’s left of this,” I said. “I don’t think I can finish it.”

“What’s the matter, Poo?” David said. “On the wagon?”

“No, I’m just not... thirsty,” I said, and shrugged.

“Never mind,” David said, “it won’t go to waste.”

“God, it’s hot! ” Sandy said.

David took the bottle, drank a little from it, and then handed it to Sandy. “Share and share alike,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, and made a pretty little curtsy. She finished the beer, carefully put the empty bottle down on the ground, and took off the top of her suit.

Rhoda did not immediately see her. Her head was bent, she was chewing on her sandwich. She took the sandwich from her mouth and then tried to dislodge a piece of roast beef that had got caught in her bands, still not seeing Sandy, and then finally freeing the stubborn sliver of meat. She looked up. She caught her breath, and immediately turned away.

“What’s the matter, Rhoda?” Sandy asked.

“Noth... nothing,” she answered.

“Rhoda, you’re going to choke on your sandwich,” Sandy said, and giggled.

You mean she’s going to swallow her braces,” David said, laughing.

“I... I... Peter,” she said, “I think I’d like to go now, please.”

I sat stunned and uneasy and aware. I thought This is outrageous and then immediately realized I was only relating to Rhoda’s shock and not to any belief of my own. This is marvelous , I thought, this is stimulating and daring, and was immediately overcome by fresh guilt when Rhoda plaintively touched my arm, but I could not take my eyes from Sandy. This is shameless, I thought, and the thought excited me, and I was thrilled and then embarrassed by my masculine response, and I thought I’d better get Rhoda out of here before something terrible happens, and then I began to anticipate what might happen, the way I’d anticipated getting Aníbal drunk, and stupidly I said, “Rhoda... fi... finish your sandwich.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, and got up off the poncho.

Sandy stepped into her path.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Back... home. To the house. The house. Out of here. Out,” she said.

“What’s your hurry?” Sandy said. “Finish your sandwich. Peter wants you to finish your sandwich.”

“No,” she said. “Put your... cover yourself. Sandy, cover yourself.”

“Why?”