Black's Creek (7 page)

N
ext day, I was up before Mom, an unusual occurrence. All night, I couldn't get Devlin out of my head, and now I couldn't wait to see her. I left the house with hardly a bite of breakfast in my jumpy stomach, and ran as fast as I could towards Jackson's Lake.

Arriving back at the exact spot we had been the day before, I could still make out the indent of where her clothes had rested on mine. I touched the flattened grass tenderly, as if it were sacred ground. For almost two hours, I sat there waiting, but my initial burst of euphoria quickly turned to despondency. She wasn't coming. Not now. Not ever. I had been a fool to think someone so beautiful would have any interest in someone as plain and boring as me.

Eventually I returned home, defeated.

‘What had you up so early this morning?' asked Mom, placing a plate of food down in front of me.

‘Nothing,' I mumbled. ‘Just wanted to get out of this damn boring house.'

Mom slammed the palm of her hand down hard on the table, making me jump.

‘You
ever
use language like that again in this house,
Mister
, I'll staple your mouth before hurling you through to next week. Got it, Mister?' she said, giving me one of her withering looks.

‘Yes …' I mumbled. ‘I got it.'

‘I hope you're not up to anything with that Brent Fleming? You've been warned to keep away from him and his family.'

‘I've already told Dad I've stopped running about with Brent.' Despite the hunger growling in my stomach, I pushed the plate away and headed for my room.

For three long days, I brooded about the house, until Dad finally threatened me.

‘If you don't get out and enjoy the summer, I'll be forced to bring you over to the county jail. They can always do with volunteers to clean the cells. You'll even get a free haircut, just like the inmates. Clear?'

Taking the hint, I quickly got out of the house, walking in the direction of Jackson's Lake. Lost in my thoughts, I hardly heard Horseshoe behind me.

‘Going for a swim, Tommy?'

‘No. Just walking and killing time. What's happening?'

‘Nothing much.' Horseshoe looked embarrassed, as if he'd been avoiding me. It seemed the three of us were now involved in a conspiracy of avoidance, after the botched raid on Armstrong's trailer.

‘Seen Brent about?' I asked, not really caring.

‘Yesterday, for a few minutes. We didn't speak much. He …' Horseshoe peered warily over his shoulder, as if expecting Brent to be standing there. ‘… mentioned Not Normal.'

‘Yeah?'

‘Said one day he'd make him pay for what he did to Joey; said he's gonna kill the pervert.'

‘Brent says all kinds of things, Horseshoe. He had his chance at the trailer, but he chickened out.' I shook my head. ‘Anyway, at the moment he's not thinking straight. Best keep well away from him for a while.'

‘Yeah, I reckon you're right on the nose.' Horseshoe nodded. ‘I'm just glad we got away that night.'

‘For all our sakes, don't mention what happened at Not Normal's to anyone. Understand? Otherwise, the devil will dick you in the ass.'

We both laughed nervously.

‘Sure you don't want to go for a swim, Tommy?'

I thought about it, but knew the answer even before I spoke. ‘Nah. Not today. I've things to do.'

‘Well, call me when you want. Okay?'

‘Sure,' I said, continuing zombie-like on my journey.

At Jackson's Lake, I could do nothing but stare at the water.

‘You weren't here yesterday,' came an accusing voice directly behind me.

I turned quickly to see Devlin, holding a large leather satchel, the type Horseshoe kept some of his better drawings in. She was smiling at me, and suddenly my world was okay again. She looked more beautiful than ever.

‘I'd things to do. I was here a couple of days ago,' I mumbled. ‘I couldn't find you.'

‘Can't find what doesn't want to be found,' she replied, cryptically, setting down the satchel. ‘Anyway, we're both here now. Going for a swim, or are you just going to stand there, looking dumb?'

Before I could answer, she was stripping, her beautiful naked body emerging triumphantly from its cocoon of clothing.

‘Stop gawking and strip!' she commanded. ‘C'mon! I haven't all day.'

Away she went, running for the water, leaving me fumbling with my clothes and playing catch-up.

In the water, we splashed about and she dunked me twice, laughing, throwing her head back with joy. She seemed like
a kid now, far from the sophisticated woman I had imagined when we first met.

‘Isn't this fun, Tommy?' Her mouth and eyes were smiling.

‘Yes!' I shouted at the top of my voice. ‘
Yessssssssssss
!'

She giggled.

I wanted this moment to last forever. I no longer cared about family or friends, life or school or work, or any of those silly things. This was what I wanted. Forever. Unfortunately for me, in Devlin's world, forever had a very short time-span.

‘C'mon. Let's go,' she said, her demeanour suddenly shifting.

‘What? You're going? So soon? We only got here. You can't go, not yet.'

‘Don't
ever
try to tell me when I should go. I go when it suits me.' She began swimming towards land. ‘C'mon! Hurry up!'

I reluctantly followed, anger and disappointment boiling in me.

On dry land she scooped up her clothes, but didn't put them on.

‘This way. Hurry,' she laughed, running away from me, her clothes gathered in her arms. ‘Bring my satchel.'

Snatching my clothes and the satchel, I quickly followed her into the wild and camouflaging grass, noticing for the first time the constellation of miniature horseshoe-shaped bruises on her buttocks. The marks were frightening to look at, but I
couldn't take my eyes from them. I'd seen similar marks not too long ago. I shivered at the memory.

‘What's wrong?' she said, stopping abruptly. I knew she'd caught me staring at her butt.

‘Nothing …'

‘Good,' she said, removing objects from the satchel. ‘Ever been sketched?'

‘No. I mean … I don't think so.' Actually, Horseshoe had sketched me, but I'd come out looking like Ben Grimm from The Fantastic Four.

‘You don't think so? What kind of stupid answer is that? You have or you haven't – which is it?'

‘Haven't, I suppose. Why?'

From the satchel, she had removed a couple of small sketch-pads and some pencils, which she placed on the ground. I grabbed one of the pads and flicked through it – page after page of rough sketches of trees and wildlife. I couldn't help but notice a family of hares, posing happily for the artist as they nibbled on grass. The morbid certainty formed in my mind that the hares she had killed the other day were one and the same crew. Once again, Devlin read my mind.

‘Sketched them before I killed them. I told them I was gonna keep them alive, for ever and ever.' She gave me a wicked smile. ‘Now I'm gonna sketch you, so don't even think of blinking. You move and you're dead – just like them hares.'

‘I need to put some clothes on,' I said, realising just
how
naked I had become. I quickly grabbed my jeans to cover my boyhood.

‘You even think of covering up, and I'm leaving. I'm naked, and I ain't complaining. I mean it, Tommy. You put those clothes on, and you'll not see me again.'

‘Can't I just cover some … parts?'

‘Where would the fun be in that? Those are the parts that are fun!' She laughed. ‘Anyway, it's not the size of the gun, but the bullets it fires, that really counts.'

Slowly, I allowed my jeans to crumple to the ground. I was her slave, and she knew it.

‘Stop fidgeting,' she ordered, selecting her weapons of choice for my death on canvas. ‘Just relax.'

‘Easy for you to say,' I mumbled.

I sat there naked, listening to the sandy scratch of pencil on rough paper. While she studied me, I studied her: her finger movements, her frown, as she wrestled to capture my likeness on the page.

‘Do you sketch everything before you kill it?' I whispered through clenched teeth, like a ventriloquist's dummy.

‘Keep talking and find out.'

A long half-hour later, it was over.

‘Done,' she said, packing everything up in the satchel.

‘When do I get to see my picture?'

‘
Your
picture? Who said you owned it? If you're lucky you
might see it soon; you might see it later. Perhaps you mightn't see it ever.'

Without warning, Devlin pulled me down onto the grass, quickly rolling on top of my willing body. Fallen apples carpeted the grass. Their fermenting aroma was everywhere, but it was Devlin's smells that intoxicated me, filling me with a strange power I never knew I possessed. I could hear things that were impossible to hear: the mist settling on the lake; stones breathing in the baking heat. I could taste the sun in my mouth as we kissed, big wet kisses that seemed to last an eternity, bruising our mouths with eagerness.

‘Squeeze,' she whispered, placing my hand on her breast.

I squeezed. Her breast was warm and small, soft as uncooked bread dough. I could feel her heart beat, pulsating through the skin. My cock was stirring. I tried desperately to will it away, fearful of what she would think of me.

‘You love me, don't you, Tommy?' It was a statement, rather than a question.

‘Y … yes.'

‘Say you love me.' The timbre of her breath was soft and resonant, making my ears tingle sweetly.

‘I … I love you,' I managed to say, throat sandpapery-dry with anticipation.

She began kissing my mouth again, only this time harder, her tongue stabbing in and out frantically like a tiny bird fearful of capture. Her saliva tasted heavenly. There was a soft purr
in her throat, a low-frequency gurgle, elevating the mundane experience of kissing to the level of something sexually dark.

Rolling off me, she lay on her back, fully exposed. My eyes sneaked a look at her most private of areas. The skin there was coated with fine, fair hair, so fine it looked as though a breeze could steal it away.

‘When you've earned it, I'll let you go further than just touching my breasts.'

‘Further?' My voice was a croak.

‘Much further,' she smiled, and then winked. ‘I'll show you things that'll make even your mama blush.'

I wish she hadn't mention Mom. There was something uncomfortable about sex and Mom in the same conversation.

‘Why do you have to talk like that, Devlin?'

‘
Shhhhhhhh!
' she whispered urgently, placing a finger firmly to my lips, bridging them. The sharp attention in her eyes derailed for a second, focusing on something else. ‘
Someone's here, watching
.'

The sweaty phantom of fear touched me for a second, making the hairs on the back of my neck tighten. My cock instantly deflated and went into hiding. I stopped breathing, listening intently. I thought of Horseshoe watching. Had he followed me, just to see what I was up to? Could it be Armstrong? But all I could hear was the lake touching the rocks with soft groans, like the hiss of a nail in a tyre.

For the longest time, we remained motionless.

Suddenly, there was a heavy movement behind me. I wanted to get up and run like hell, but Devlin pulled down on my arm. A hare came charging through the long blades of grass, jumping over our naked bodies and scaring the shit clean out of me.

Rolling onto her back, Devlin began laughing.

‘Oh, Tommy! Your face! You'd think you'd just seen a ghost!'

‘You were scared too.'

‘Wasn't!'

‘You were!'

She stood up and started dressing.

Disappointed, I reluctantly stood too.

‘Why're you going, Devlin? Angry at me poking fun at you?'

‘Don't be silly.' She kissed me on the lips. ‘I've got to go. My ma needs looking after. She has … problems. I can only get out for a couple of hours, every other day.'

‘Oh … I'm sorry.' I was filled with remorse, embarrassed by my own craven selfishness.

‘It's okay.' She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I've been looking after her for years.'

‘Don't you have a dad?' I asked, regretting it the moment my big mouth opened. ‘Sorry … that's none of my business …'

‘He's a distant rumour. Walked out on us when I was a baby. I never knew him.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘
Don't
keep saying sorry. It's not a word I like. It's weak.'

Keep quiet and leave
, the voice of reason kept telling me. But I was never good at reasoning with anyone, least of all myself.