Andrew Vachss - Blossom

"She sounds like a fine woman."

"She was."

"Did she raise you?"

"No. I was only there for the summer. The State raised me."

"Are your parents dead?"

"I don't know. Never met them."

"Oh."

"You can get that sappy look off your face. You don't miss what you never had."

"You don't know my looks. You don't know what they mean. And folks do miss what they never have. They do it all the time. Now tell me what you found out."

87

LATER, I WAS on the couch in her living room. Blossom was curled up at the other end.

"Why are you in this?" she asked.

"Virgil's my brother."

"I understand that. But you came to help Lloyd, right? I know he's been arrested and all, but nobody thinks he did it. Why don't you go back home?"

"I could never explain it to you. The guy who did this, I know him. Not his name. I was raised with humans like him. I know why he does it."

"You want to stop him before he does it again?"

"I'm no hero. That's not it. I told you, I can't explain it."

She slid closer on the couch, voice quiet. "Cyndi tell you what I told her? About you?"

"To stay away from me?"

"Yes. She tell you why?"

"Not exactly."

"You're a trouble-man, Mr. Burke."

"What's that?"

"There's men who walk on the edge because they like the way it feels under their feet. Risk-takers."

"That's not me."

"Yes. Yes, it is. You've got the mark. Clear as a signpost. It's got nothing to do with bravery. But wherever you go, there's trouble. Trouble for somebody."

"You don't know me."

"And you don't know the sniper?"

I dragged on my smoke to have something to do. Thought it through. "I won't be around here long."

She stood up. Held out her hand to me. "You'll be around here till it gets light anyway."

88

IN HER BEDROOM, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and stepped into my chest, tilting her face up. Her lips were full and rich. Swollen. I kissed her softly, my hands trailing down her back. Her skin had a fine sheen of powder and sweat. Her arms came up, linked around my neck. She leaned back, one bare foot on my shoe. Her breasts were small, round perfect things, tiny nipples dark against the milky flesh.

Blossom pushed my jacket off my shoulders, opened the buttons on my shirt with a pickpocket's touch. She sat on the bed while I pulled off the rest of my clothes. Held out her hand again. Pushed me onto my back on the bed. Got to her feet. Hooked thumbs in the waistband of her powder-blue panties and pulled them down to her thighs. Bent at the waist as she stepped out of them. Came onto the bed again, her face in my neck. I gazed down the line of her back. Her ankles were slim, calf muscles standing out strong. A woman who spent a lot of time on her feet. Her buttocks swelled from a tiny waist. I patted her, feeling the firm flesh bounce back against me.

"It's a handful, huh?"

"Bigger than I would've thought."

"I had to learn how to walk to keep it down. Boys used to follow me home from school."

"I would have, I saw all this in motion."

She slid one leg over mine, trailing wetness. Kissed me deep, tongue curling up against the back of my top teeth. Her hand found me. "You left something in your clothes," she whispered. "Go get it."

"What?"

She propped herself up on her elbows, regarding me with those searchlight eyes. "Don't tell me…"

"What? "

"Why do you carry that pistol, trouble-man?"

"For protection."

"Yeah. You wouldn't leave home without it. That the only kind of protection you can think of?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. You have any or not?"

"Not."

Her little fist thumped me lightly on the chest. "Nice work, boy. You get lucky enough to come along when I'm having an estrogen-fit, then you blow it."

"Speaking of which…"

"Forget it. What year do you think this is? I didn't go to medical school to have some strange man playing with my life. I don't know where you've been."

"I…"

"Don't even tell me. A stiff cock's got no conscience."

"Your mother tell you that?"

"Matter of fact, she did. Best time to ask a man for a favor is just before he comes."

"When's the best time for a woman?"

"Just after." A gentle twist to her mouth, playing with a smile.

I cupped my hands behind my head. Looked at the ceiling. "How long do these estrogen-fits of yours last?"

Her full smile bloomed in the darkness. "Not long enough for you to find a drugstore, you dope. You know anything about women?"

"Not much."

A faint coppery smell came off her body. She nuzzled against my neck. Whispered, "Wait here." Like I was going anywhere. I watched her walk out of the bedroom. She didn't bother to keep it down. Cyndi could have taken lessons.

I closed my eyes. Felt her hand on me. Slick and wet. A long fingernail trailed down my shaft. Electricity ran from my spine to the back of my neck.

"You found something?" I asked her.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. A diaphragm, foam…something." Not saying anything about the vasectomy I'd had years ago…like I'd told her too much, somehow.

"Feel this," she said, guiding my fingertips to her upper arm. Five tiny little lines, fan-shaped under the skin.

"What is it?" I asked her.

"Progestin. Best birth-control chemical there is. Each implant is a time-release bar. The whole thing's good for about five years. Unless you weigh more than a hundred and fifty-four pounds. You think I'm a good risk?" Patting her butt, smiling.

"You're well on the safe side."

"You're not exactly a silver-tongued devil, are you, boy? Anyway, this version's called Norplant. It just got FDA approval— I was one of the volunteers they tested it on. No ugly side effects like the Pill."

"So why…?"

"I know how to keep from having babies. Know what to do if that doesn't work too. You never heard about Safe Sex?"

"Sure." I didn't tell her where I first heard about it. From a child molester. Safe for him.

He thought.

Her hand stroked. I opened my eyes a slit. White fluffy bath towel lying on the bed.

"That isn't going to work," I told her. "I haven't gotten off like that since I was a kid."

"Shhh, baby. Close your eyes. I'll tell you a story."

She whispered all I'd missed out on, coming to her house without protection. Whispered and stroked and teased and played and chuckled.

Then she spread the towel over me, curled up against me, and we slept together.

89

I WOKE UP to the sound of the shower. Wrapped the towel around me, went into the kitchen, lit a smoke. Heard the bathroom door open. Found Blossom seated at her dressing table, working some cream into her face. She nodded her head at the bathroom, concentrating.

The place was full of steam, mirror fogged. I took a shower with the liquid soap she left there in a clear push-top bottle. Washed my hair with shampoo I found in a black squeeze tube. Put on last night's clothes.

Blossom was still in the bedroom, still fussing with her face when I came back.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way," she said, "but I can be saying this only once. I'm not mad at you. There's nothing wrong. But I can't talk to people in the morning when I first get up. I need to be with myself. It's okay if you stay, do what you want. There's food inside. But don't talk to me till I talk to you, okay?"

"Okay."

She was letting me see pieces of her— the ones she wanted held up to the light. No more today. I walked out. It was still before rush hour— it only took me twenty minutes to get back to the motel, even with stopping at a drugstore.

90

I SEPARATED OUT my dry cleaning, stuffed underwear and socks into the laundry bag Rebecca had given me. Showered again, shaved, changed my clothes. Time to work.