Richard Laymon: Tread Softly

"Here they come," Dad told her. "Why don't you go on ahead?"

With a nod, she opened her door. She slid out and stepped toward the rear of the car.

"It's around back," Karen said as they passed.

"Thanks." Walking away, she glanced over her shoulder. The boy at the windshield met her eyes. She smiled at him, and continued on her way.

The heat brought sweat to her forehead. She wondered it the boy was watching, admiring the way she looked in her T-shirt and tight white shorts.

The restroom was shadowy and stifling. She quickly relieved herself. At the sink, she splashed tepid water onto her face and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed with red from crying. Her hair was slightly mussed. She wished she'd brought her brush along. She combed her fingers through her hair and patted the swept-back sides. Her T-shirt looked loose and baggy. Opening her shorts again, she pulled it down firmly and tucked it in. She looked down at herself. The shirt was taut over her breasts, emphasizing them. The white lace of her bra was clearly visible through the stretched fabric.

She smiled at her reflection. She winked at herself. Then she stepped out of the restroom into the glaring sunlight.

The car was still at the pumps, but the boy was gone. She spotted him through the windows of the office. At the car, she put her hands on the sill of Karen's open window and looked in. "Dad, could we get some Cokes or something?"

"Yeah!" Benny said.

"Sure. Why not?" Dad shifted his weight to reach for the wallet in his back pocket.

"Let me," Karen said. "My treat."

"No," Dad Said. "That's — "

"I insist." She took a billfold from her handbag. After a moment of searching, she said, "I guess I don't have any change," and gave Julie a five-dollar bill. "Why don't you pick up some chips or something, if they've got 'em?"

"I'll come with you," Benny said, and burst from the car.

"What'll you have, Dad?"

"Root beer or Coke."

"Karen?"

The woman smiled at her. "Mountain Dew, or Dr. Pepper. If they haven't got one of those, a cola'd be fine."

Benny raced ahead of her to the office, and planted himself in front of the soft-drink vending machine. Julie, feeling a flutter of anticipation, took a deep breath and entered. "Hi," she said to the boy behind the desk.

He got to his feet and swept a hank of brown hair away from his forehead. "Hi. Can I help you?"

Julie held the bill out to him. "Could we have some change for your machines?"

He smiled. "Sure thing." He leaned over the desk. As he reached out, his eyes lowered from Julie's face to her breasts to her extended arm. He took the money. "You'll be wanting quarters," he said. He broke a fresh roll of them into the open drawer of the cash register. The patch above his shirt pocket read TIM. "Are you from around here?" he asked.

"From Los Angeles. We're on our way to the mountains."

"Yeah? Camping?"

"We'll be backpacking out of Black Butte."

"No kidding? I've been there. That's real nice country." He counted out quarters, and dropped them four at a time into Julie's palm, his fingers sometimes brushing her.

"Thank you, Tim."

He beamed, and nodded.

Turning away, Julie gave the coins to Benny. "Here, you get the stuff. You know what everybody wants?"

"Sure." With the quarters clutched in his hand, he stepped up close to the soft-drink dispenser. Julie went back to Tim.

"Do you work here all the time?" she asked.

"Whenever I can. My dad's the owner."

"Don't you get awfully hot?"

"Oh, you get used to it."

"I don't think I would."

"It's not so bad." He stepped around the desk and sat on its edge. "You've got a nice tan," he said, looking at her legs.

"Thanks."

"I bet you go to the beach a lot, being in Los Angeles and everything."

"Yeah." She considered explaining about their backyard swimming pool. Tim might think she was bragging, though. "I really like the ocean," she said.

"We've got the river," he said, "and some lakes. I'll go over to Millerton or Pine Flat. They aren't far. We take the boat over when — " The double ring of a bell interrupted him. He peered out the window. A pickup was rolling to a stop beside the pumps. With a sigh of disappointment that pleased Julie, he pushed himself off the desk. "Well, I've gotta go. Have a good trip, now. Stop in on your way back if you get a chance."

"Okay. 'Bye, Tim."

He left the office. On his way toward the pickup, he looked over his shoulder and waved. Julie waved back.

Benny had set the four soft-drink cans on the floor to free his hands. He punched a number on the snack machine. Inside the display window, a clamp opened, dropping a small pack of barbecued potato chips into a trough.

Julie picked up the chilly, wet cans. Benny gathered up four packs of chips and Fritos. Together, they left the office.

At her door, Julie watched Tim lift the hood of the pickup. "So long," she called.

"Stop by again," he said.

Then she climbed into the car. She passed around the drinks, poured the remaining change into Karen's hand, and thanked her.

As they pulled away, she looked out the rear window. Tim was wiping a dipstick with a red rag.

"He seemed like a nice young fellow," Dad said.

"His father owns the station," Julie said.

"Oh? Checked him out, did you?"

"I didn't 'check him out.' We were just talking, that's all."

"Baloney and liver sausage," Benny said.

"He looked like he was about Nick's age," Dad told her.

"Nick?"

"Flash's son. You remember him? The company picnic?"

"Unh-uh."

"Well, that was about five or six years ago. I think you ran the three-legged race with him."

"Oh, him ." She smiled. "We won that. He's Mr. Gordon's son?"

"Yep. He's seventeen now."

"Oh, yeah?" Maybe this wouldn't turn out to be such a rotten vacation after all.

"Ow!" Heather cried, clutching the back of her hand.

"Rose, play nice."

"I didn't hit her hard."

Alice Gordon gave her daughter a warning scowl. She considered calling a stop to the game, but Heather had already hidden her hand behind her back, ready to continue.

"One, two, three," Rose said. Her open hand darted out.

Heather, at the same instant, swung her hand into view with two fingers extended. "Aha! Scissors cut paper!"

Rose presented her hand. Heather slapped it hard, getting even.

"Didn't hurt," Rose taunted.

They got ready for another match. "One, two, three," Rose said.

Heather came out with scissors again. As Rose's flat hand swung forward, it closed into a fist. "Rock breaks scissors," she declared.

"No fair!" Heather cried out. "You cheated. Didn't she, Mom? You saw her! She was paper!"

Nick looked around from the passenger seat. "Is Rose cheating again?"

"Yes!" Heather blurted.

"I think we've had enough of this game," Alice said. "Why don't you find something nice to play? Twenty Questions or Hangman."

"I get to slap her!" Heather protested. "She was paper!"

"No more slapping."

"But I won!"

"Kids!" Arnold snapped. He was driving and didn't look back. "Do as your mother says."

"But, Daaaad!"

"You heard me."

Heather sighed as if the world were unfair. She narrowed her eyes at Rose. "Cheater."

With a long-suffering smile, Rose offered her hand. "Go ahead and give it to me."

"Mom, can I?"

"Oh, I don't care. Just once, then I want you both to find something better to do."

Heather slapped downward. Rose's hand shot out from under the path of the blow, and smacked the back of Heather's descending hand. "Hey!"

Rose laughed. So did Nick. Heather punched her sister's knee.

"That's enough!" Alice snapped. "Stop it!"