Ghouls (18 page)

The orgy of commotion upstairs finally maxed itself out. There was only silence in the resultant minutes. Then she listened for and eventually heard the quiet footfalls moving across the upstairs hall, over the landing, and at last down the stairs. A whisper came with their descent—“Shit, I hope she ain’t home yet”—but why would Lenny bother even to whisper? Why should he care? Vicky held her eyes on the oblong, black maw that was the bottom of the stairwell. She stood very still, her face a sketch of cold lines. She waited.

In time, two figures stepped out from the darkness, Lenny in Levi’s, naked from the waist up; and Joanne in a tight, pink tube top, naked from the waist down. Joanne’s hair hung in tousled strings; her bare, slim hips seemed even slimmer, more like an adolescent’s, as if the shadows stole substance. Her face was sharply dark and light in the dim lamp-glow. Mascara and liner made sockets of her eyes, and the harsh lipstick shone dark as blood. All that kept her from exposing herself was a tiny, pink G-string, a triangle of cupped flesh between her legs.

Both of them stopped when they noticed Vicky by the door. Silence stretched between them like putty, adding distance. Vicky felt ablaze in rage.

Finally Lenny stepped into the light. He was smiling. “What happened ta you? You get
inta
the shower and
forgit
ta take off
yer
clothes?”

“No,” Vicky said. “Since my fine husband was too busy, he couldn’t pick me up, so I had to walk home from work in the rain.”

Joanne stood up next to Lenny now, showing a wet, red grin. “Well, gee, Vicky, you know how it is. Sometimes people just lose track of time.”

“Then I’ll tell you what time it is,” Vicky said. “It’s time for you to get out. Go fuck your brains out someplace else.”

Joanne brought her hands to her mouth, and she looked over at Lenny with theatrical compassion. “Oh, no, Lenny. Look what we’ve gone and done. We’ve upset your sweet little wife, shame on us. Isn’t there anything we can do to make her feel better?”

“Oh, I think a little liberation might do her a whole
lotta
good,” Lenny said. His grin increased to match Joanne’s’. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a
fantastic
idea!” Joanne exclaimed. She flounced boldly toward Vicky, speaking as she moved. “I say we all go upstairs, get you out of those icky wet clothes, and have a threesome. Ever been banged and eaten at the same time? It’ll blow your mind. Come on, Vicky, let’s go.”

Vicky was pleased at her ability to deflect their mockery, and to regulate what was now easily hatred; her response to the proposition came cool and undaunted. “I’d cut my throat first,” she said, “and yours in the same swipe”; then her gaze turned robotically from Joanne to Lenny. “I want this whore out of here, Lenny. Now. I don’t want her in my house, my bed, or my sight.”

“Your
house?
Your
bed?” Lenny said. “You don’t have ta look at her if you don’t want, I’ll give you that. But you seem ta be
forgittin
’ it’s
my
house and
my
bed, and I’ll have anyone I want in either.”

Vicky turned to Joanne, who now stood right in front of her. “Leave on your own, or I’ll throw you out.”

Joanne threw her head back and laughed. But only for a second. Vicky punched her loudly in the chin, making a ridiculous smear of the lipstick; the laughter ceased at once. Then Vicky spun Joanne around and shoved her hard toward the door. The shove sent Joanne a dozen feet across the room, where she soon enough tripped over some beer cans and hit the floor flat on her chest. Dazed, Joanne yipped, “You little dipshit!” and just as she attempted to get up, Vicky assisted her by grabbing a handful of her hair and lifting; Joanne squealed through the entire process. With her free hand Vicky opened the front door and then pushed the girl out onto the porch. This time Joanne landed directly on her buttocks. A yelp like a hiccup jerked out of her throat when she hit.

“Start walking, asshole,” Vicky said from the doorway.

Wincing and holding her bottom, Joanne dragged herself to her feet. “Little bitch,” she mumbled. “Just
wait’ll
I—”

“You heard me. Start walking.”

“I can’t walk home like this! At least
gimme
my pants!”

“You can pick them out of the garbage can in the morning. Now shove off, or I’ll kick your ass from here to the next county.”

Joanne was steaming, a five-foot-eight joke with red-smeared lips and no pants. She huffed and clenched her fists at her sides. Then, after a final seething, grimacing pause, she turned and walked down the porch steps, where the storm devoured her.

Vicky watched till Joanne could no longer be seen within the blowing layers of rain.
Ass,
she thought.
Try that on for size.

She came back in and slammed the door so hard the house shook. Lenny remained in the half-lit corner, his face still warped by a drunk grin. He was clapping. “That’s really
sockin
’ it to her,” he said. “A real
hardass
little chick—that’s what I’ve always liked about you.”

“And you know what I’ve always liked about
you,
Lenny?”

“What, babe?”

“Nothing.”

At this, Lenny seemed to contemplate the air. She knew she would have to be very careful now. If she threw too many insults at him, he would just start throwing his fists. She would have liked to tell him everything just then, everything she thought of him—to release with words the disgust that had built up in her since the beginning of their marriage. She knew, though, that she would have to control herself, or suffer the inevitable consequences.

“You’re just jealous, that’s all,” he said after a time. “Jealous that other girls get turned on by me.”

“It’s got nothing to do with jealousy. If you think I haven’t known about your affairs all along, then you’re even dumber than I thought.” She paused abruptly, to force back the acid that seemed to be crawling up her throat. Then, “No, I’ve known all about it, and I don’t care anymore. I
haven’t
cared in a year. I tried. I waited. I used to think—” but she pulled the words back when she felt tears wanting to come out. She couldn’t let herself cry in front of Lenny. That would be the worst defeat.

“See, I know you, Vicky,” he said, grinning sharper now. “You think I don’t, but I know you real good. You say things, but you mean jus’ the opposite. I’ve lived round rubes all my life; it’s jus’ like a rube chick to go
apeshit
when she finds her man with another girl. You
cain’t
stand the thought of another girl
puttin
’ her hands on me.”

“I welcome it,” she said with no hesitation. “It’s my relief. Because when you’re with another woman, I don’t have to be around you. That’s my relief, Lenny. That’s all I live for anymore, to come home from work every night and hope that you’re not here.”

Lenny laughed hoarsely. “You’re really
puttin
’ on some show, ain’t
ya
? Girl, you’d go crazy without me. Remember ‘fore we got married? You
begged
for it, you couldn’t get enough. You were nuts about me, and you still are, you jus’ don’t
wanna
show it. You get your kicks this way,
tryin
’ ta make me think I don’t excite you no more.”

“You excite me about as much as the bottom of a garbage can. I don’t know where you get your ideas, Lenny. Must be all that dope and beer, it’s pickled your brain. You’ve got enough shit in your head to fill a horse trough.”

“Look,” he said, and took a step forward. “I screw around a little, all right? All guys do. So you don’t gotta give me a load of crap jus’ ’cause I bring a chick back to the house. That ain’t a crime.”

“It’s a crime to marry someone and make no attempt to fulfill your obligations as a husband.”

“Shit, girl, you been
watchin
’ too many soaps. You got more than most girls in this town. What more do you want? You got a roof over your head, don’t
ya
? You got food in your stomach every day. You have everything you need, and you still complain.”

“All I have is a two-bit job at a strip joint and a lazy dishonest
cockhound
for a husband. And like I said, I don’t care what you do anymore. You can blow your load all over this whole town”—now she even dared to point a finger at him—“but at least have the decency to keep your little honeypots out of the same bed I have to sleep in.”

Lenny’s expression began to flatten. He took two more steps toward the center of the room, then stood and looked at her with a raised eye. “You don’t
have
ta sleep in it,” he said. “Maybe you’d rather sleep in the street.”

“With pleasure.”

Vicky turned at once, yanked open the front door, and began walking out across the porch. Lenny stormed after her. She was just about to step into the rain when he grabbed her by the belt and jerked her back onto the porch. She shrieked, but the sound was absorbed by the rain.

“You ain’t
goin
’ nowhere now, babe,” he said, pulling her back toward the door. ”A little therapy’s all you need. A little nut up the love
hole’ll
fix things up real nice.”

She yanked away from him completely, amazed at the sudden burst of strength. But she was cut off; Lenny blocked the porch steps. He began to back her into the house.

“Keep away from me,” she said, walking in reverse. Her voice broke like a child’s. Her hands trembled. “Don’t touch me. Please, don’t touch me.”

“But you want me to touch you. I know you do.”

He stepped forward mechanically, edging her further into the room. Before she knew it, he’d backed her up against the wall along the stairs.

There was no place she could go now, no escape. His shadow grew huge and rose over her as he approached. A tight pain spread across her chest; she felt sweat trickle down her sides. At that moment she wished she were a ghost, she wished she could vanish into the wall.

The distance between them drew in, step by step. Lenny faced her now, just inches away, blackened to a silhouette-shape from the light behind him. Her eyes darted left and right; she needed a weapon. A large, cornered glass ashtray glimmered from the coffee table. But it was just too far away.

Lenny’s silhouette spoke. “Upstairs, girl. Right now.”

She knew how close she was to another beating; a single word of protest now would set him off. She gulped thickly, and shuddered when his hands touched her breasts. She turned her head to one side, cheek to wall, shivering. Then one hand moved around to cup her buttocks. The other hand spread over her crotch and squeezed.

“See, baby?” he said. “That’s all you need. You just need a good fucking.”

Vicky felt the certainty explode in her head. She could save herself, by submitting. But now she knew she would not submit to him, not now, not ever again. She’d debased herself for the last time; she’d had enough. It was time for an end to living like this, even if it meant an end to living.

“Stop,” she said.

“No, you don’t want me ta stop. You
wanna
get fucked.”

Her hand hooked around in a swift arc, and she slapped the side of his face. The sound, however, was disappointingly thin, like slapping water; Lenny’s head barely flinched at all. His hands came off her slowly. He didn’t strike back as she expected. He only stood there, staring, staking her to the wall with his gaze.

Her words came out wearily, without bite, without emotion. “I hate you,” she told him. “I hate you so much. You’re the lowest, Lenny, the absolute lowest. You make me so sick I could vomit.”

“You got exactly one second to take that back, or I’ll give you
somethin
’ to vomit about.”

“You’re a thief, a liar, and a wretch. I could shoot myself for marrying you, I must have been out of my mind. All you’ll ever be is a punk, Lenny, a grade-A number-one asshole. You’re the sorriest excuse for a man I ever saw.”