Эд Макбейн - Strangers When We Meet

Her voice was very low now. He had to strain to hear it, a whisper in the tight silence of the automobile.

“His name was Buck. Buck what, I don’t know. I never asked. I never want to know. Ever. I wish I didn’t even know his first name. I wish I’d never seen him, never smiled at him, never let him into my house.”

She stopped talking, and again he waited, and at last she sighed and went on.

“He stayed a while. We sat in the living room. I ironed, and he talked to me. He was driving the truck for his father. They carted top soil for developers. They...”

“Get to it, Maggie!”

“He kissed me.”

She glanced at Larry quickly. His eyes were on the road.

“Before he left. We were standing at the door, and I was saying good night, and suddenly he grabbed me. He was trembling all over, like a baby. He... he kissed me.”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“No. I didn’t know how to kiss before I met you. You know that.” She paused. “I didn’t want him to kiss me, but I couldn’t stop him. Finally, he left.”

The car went silent. Larry felt instant relief. He turned to her and said, “Is that what was so terri—”

“There’s more.”

His hands tightened on the wheel. The long silence before she spoke again seemed interminable.

“I... I got ready for bed after he was gone. I was in bed when the phone rang. It was him. He said he was coming over. I told him I was in bed. He said he was coming over. I told him he was crazy, that I’d call the police. He said he was coming over. I didn’t know what to do. It was late by this time, midnight at least, maybe later. I couldn’t disturb any of my neighbors, I was all alone in the house, Don in Detroit, Patrick with his grandmother. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“And let it become the talk of the development? How could I? I locked all the doors instead. Every single one. Then I took some sleeping pills and I—”

“Sleeping pills! When you knew he was on his way? For Christ’s sake, why’d you—”

“I wanted to sleep! I couldn’t think of anything else to do, I was so frightened. Larry, I couldn’t think of anything else. I... I took two pills. I keep them. My doctor says it’s all right. Sometimes I can’t sleep.”

“Go ahead,” he said tightly, frowning.

“I was almost asleep when I heard his car pull up. The yellow Buick. He got out and came to the front door and rang, but I didn’t get out of bed. I was half drugged, anyway. I couldn’t have got up if I’d wanted to. He tried the front door and then he rang the bell again, and then I thought he went away. I didn’t know he was walking around to the back on the grass. I didn’t realize that. Until I heard him try the kitchen door. And then I heard the door open!

“I couldn’t understand it! I thought I’d locked every door, but he had got into the house. He called ‘Margaret’ from downstairs, and I lay in bed unable to move, half drugged. I was naked, Larry, it was so hot in the room, there was something wrong with the air conditioner. I tried to fight sleep. I don’t remember him coming upstairs, I don’t remember him getting into bed with me. I only remember him grabbing me and kissing my closed eyes and my breasts and—”

“For Christ’s sake, stop it!”

“... kissing me everywhere, everywhere, and then I began to wake up, began to come out of it a little, and I tried to fight him but it was too late by then, too late.”

Caustically, Larry said, “How was it?”

“It was horrible, a horrible nightmare. It was a rape, Larry, don’t you understand that?”

“No, I don’t understand it. Why’d you take those pills?”

“To escape him!”

“How’d you forget to lock an entrance door?”

“I forgot!”

“Did he tell you he loved you?”

“Yes.”

“And did you tell him you loved him?”

“No! I’ve never told that to anyone but my grandfather and you!”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying, I’m not, do you think I wanted to tell you this, you asked me to, do you think I enjoyed what he did to me, do you think I enjoyed getting raped , damnit, do you think it was fun?”

“Why’d you leave the door open?”

“I thought it was locked.”

“A goddamn door is either locked or it isn’t! You wanted him to get into that house!”

“No, no, I didn’t.”

“You wanted him to find you. That’s why you took the pills, so that you couldn’t fight him, couldn’t resist him!”

“No, no!”

“You went through all the motions—”

“Stop it, stop it!”

“... but you wanted him to take you. Goddamnit, Maggie, you wanted to be—”

“All right!” she screamed. “I wanted to be raped. I was a bitch in heat, all right? The stink of it was on me, all right? It went out to all men everywhere, it filled their nostrils, it suffocated them with the stink of my hunger, all right? I wanted him, I wanted him, I wanted him! ”

“You’re a whore,” he said, and without taking his eyes from the road, he lashed out at her in a backhanded slap which caught her on the side of her face and sent her reeling back against the seat.

“You fool,” she said.

“Shut up!”

“You damn stupid fool, you damn idiot. Don’t you know you’re still the first man, no matter what happened? Don’t you know you’re the only man? Oh, you stupid, stupid...”

She began crying suddenly and fitfully. He had never seen her cry before, and the sight amazed him. Her misery was complete, the fullest misery he had ever seen on the face of a woman. It was as if, secure in the beauty of her face, she could allow it to crumble completely, allow it to dissolve without mercy, permit it to twist in uncontrollable sorrow.

“Cut it out,” he said.

“I’ve... lost... you.”

“Cut it out!”

“I’ve lost you! I’ve lost you!”

She moved suddenly toward him, a surprisingly swift motion, throwing herself into his arms so that he was forced to take one hand from the wheel to support the sudden weight of her body. The car swerved out of control for an instant, and then he recaptured the wheel, and her head was on his chest, and she was still weeping bitterly, gasping for breath.

“Tell me it doesn’t matter,” she said.

Doesn’t it matter? he asked himself. Doesn’t it matter that she’s been had, didn’t I suspect it in the beginning, be honest, wasn’t it this about her which attracted me to her in the first place, didn’t I know she could be had?

“Tell me you still love me,” she said.

Love you? he thought. Do I love you? I’m mad as hell, I could kill that son of a bitch if he was here, I could kill him, I’ve turned into a fine man, a fine upstanding citizen, I hit young kids and defenseless women, the hero, the great god Cole! But do I love you? Where’s the end of this, Maggie? Where the hell was the beginning? When do we ever start knowing each other, when do we ever progress beyond strangers in the straw, or should we, should we? I’m angry, and all right it’s juvenile! I’m angry, and maybe it’s a throwback to my first concept of womanhood, the mother’s tit, the pure symbol of lily-white virginal security, but I’m still angry, and where the hell does it all lead, where does it end? If the redheaded kid had you, and if I had you, how many others can have you and will have you, goddamnit Felix Anders is right, Felix Anders is the sage of the century!

“Tell me,” she said. “Please. Please.”

Or maybe I want out, he thought. Maybe I’ve never loved her, maybe it always was biology and always will be biology, is that all life amounts to, is that all love amounts to, am I in love with Maggie or am I a statistic in the Kinsey Report?