Authors: Edward Lee
The Minotauress (54 page)
The old gypsum mine,
he remembered now. More memories flashed back. The old mine had been closed for longer than he could remember, but no one had ever boarded up the gaping entry to the main shaft.
he remembered now. More memories flashed back. The old mine had been closed for longer than he could remember, but no one had ever boarded up the gaping entry to the main shaft.
The mouth of the old gypsum mine had been the secret place where they'd illegally dumped all of the ranch's rendering bilge. They'd even dumped whole dead cattle down there when they could get away with it.
"The mine," Dean said to his father.
Jake Lohan squeezed his son's hand in acknowledgment, nodding feebly. Then the parchment-dry voice creaked on: "My boy. My fine strong son finally come back to the roots of his blood."
"Never mind that, Dad," Dean whispered fiercely. "What happened? You've got to tell me what happened out there!"
"Evil," his father croaked like a frog. "That's what's happenin' out there, son. I've a mind to tell ya to catch the next plane and git your ass out'a here."
"I can't do that, Dad. Not while you're like this. And what did you say about—"
A pained cough ripped from Jake Lohan's bandaged chest. "It's blammed fuckin' evil is what' I'm sayin', son. I know it is... 'cos I
saw
it."
saw
it."
Dean leaned closer. "
What
, Dad?
What
did you see?"
What
, Dad?
What
did you see?"
But his father was already fading back out, his grip loosening. Then, in a course exhalation that was nearly inaudible, he said, "Only you can save us, son... "
Jake Lohan fell back into the smothering embrace of his coma, perhaps forever.
««—»»
"Sorry about your dad, man," Ajax said on the ride back.
Dean didn't reply, keeping his eye on the darkening road. He didn't want to talk, not now. He was too confused, and Ajax seemed to understand this. What Dean needed was distraction, not focus, and—like magic—Ajax provided it, when a souped ‘72 Chevelle soared by in the oncoming lane.
"Oh, man!" Ajax railed. "Did you see the blond hunk'a box in that Chevelle?"
"That was Judy Nesher," Dean remarked aside.
Ajax shot a funky glance. "You know her?"
"Know her? I
fucked
her in high school. Does the term ‘screamer' mean anything to you?"
fucked
her in high school. Does the term ‘screamer' mean anything to you?"
"Shit, man! You fucked
that
piece of work? And you
left
this town?"
that
piece of work? And you
left
this town?"
Dean shrugged. "She's a pig. I'd only fuck her when I didn't feel like jerking off."
"What a fuckin' stud!"
"Actually, her mother's a lot hotter."
"You fucked her
mother?
"
mother?
"
"Yeah," Dean admitted as though it were an inconsequential matter. "A threesome—fucked both their brains out on the kitchen table where Mrs. Nesher was making deviled eggs for the homecoming party. Shit, between the two of 'em, I don't know which was louder: Judy, her mom, or a rock in a gearbox."
"What a fuckin' stud!" Ajax repeated in awe.
After a quick glance, Dean decelerated, then pulled a screeching U-turn. Next, the 4x4 was pulling into the gravel parking lot of a long roadside bar. A gaudy neon sign blinked: GORTYN'S WOODLAND TAVERN.
"Gorty's," Dean said under his breath. He idled around the parking lot, then backed into a distance space.
"Dynamite," Ajax celebrated. "I could use a beer but... why are you parking way over here?"
"We're not going in. I just want to see who's here."
Ajax flicked a cigarette out the window and lit another. "Earth to Dean's brain? Best way to see who's inside is—duh—to walk inside."
"You don't understand," Dean sniped back. "I can't just walk into Gorty's and have a beer."
"Why?"
"I'm
Dean Lohan,
" Dean said. "That's why."
Dean Lohan,
" Dean said. "That's why."
Ajax frowned at the reply but before he could say anything, he caught a glimpse of another hot blond walking toward the front door. "Shit! Look at that slice of meat—"
"That's Mary Cotten."
"A brick motherfuckin'
shit-house—"
shit-house—"
"I fucked her," Dean admitted. "But then I shit-canned her the next day 'cos she shaves her pussy."
Ajax gawped at him. "You—"
"I don't like all that shaved shit, and that racing-stripe shit. I wanna fucking fistful of
hair
down there. I want
sod.
" Dean paused, pointing at the long tavern window. "See the tall redhead, in the Danzig T-shirt?"
hair
down there. I want
sod.
" Dean paused, pointing at the long tavern window. "See the tall redhead, in the Danzig T-shirt?"
"Oh, you mean the one right there stacked like Thanksgiving dinner?"
"Yeah. That's Chrissy Croner. I fucked her."
Ajax was flabbergasted.
"She was an ass-fuck freak. She'd give herself an enema every time I came over."
"How long did you date her?"
Dean's face crinkled in objection. "I didn't
date
her, I just fucked her in the ass a bunch of times. I'd never
date
a girl like that. She wears too much makeup."
date
her, I just fucked her in the ass a bunch of times. I'd never
date
a girl like that. She wears too much makeup."
"Are you shitting me, man? Hell, I'd
eat
her makeup!
"
eat
her makeup!
"
"She's a trailer hog. I ain't got time to hold hands in the fuckin' park." Dean whipped out a can of Skoal and dipped a pinch. "All these girls out here? They're skoads."
"Skoads?"
"They're fuck-pigs, Ajax—"
"Oink, oink—"
"And they ain't worth a guy's time except the time it takes to punch their holes and slam the door in their whiny faces." He pointed again. "See the brunette over there by the pool table?"
Ajax squinted. "Yeah... and I just came in my pants. Let me guess? You fucked her."
"I fucked her," Dean said. "I'd pin her feet back behind her ears and fuck her so hard she'd sound like a dog-toy being stepped on. She was a good nut... but then I got sick of listening to her talk. She wouldn't get the message, so I started beating the shit out of her... but she
still
wouldn't leave. Said she loved me, said I was the best thing to ever happen to her. One night I kicked her in the head so hard she was out cold for the next twelve hours. When she came to, she sucked my dick."
still
wouldn't leave. Said she loved me, said I was the best thing to ever happen to her. One night I kicked her in the head so hard she was out cold for the next twelve hours. When she came to, she sucked my dick."
Ajax could do nothing gawp at him.
"Women are fucked up," Dean continued. "The harder you kick their asses, the more they love you. See that life-support for a pussy hanging by the bowling machine? That's Tina Blacker—"
"She's hotter than the lid on a wood stove," Ajax drooled.
"Yeah, and she had a pussy tighter than a frog's ass. But she got too
clingy,
you know what I mean?"
clingy,
you know what I mean?"
"No," Ajax said.
"And she was a motor-mouth; she wouldn't shut up. One night when I was ‘faced, I just got sick of it and broke a plank over her head. When she got out of the hospital, did she press charges? Fuck no. She begged me to marry her, threatened to kill herself if I said no."
"What did you say?"
"No," Dean said. "I didn't have time for all that lovey-dovey psycho-tramp bullshit. I told her if she killed herself, I'd go to her funeral...
if
I wasn't busy."
if
I wasn't busy."
"What a motherfucker!" Ajax proclaimed.
"That's right. Feel 'em, fuck 'em, and forget 'em.
That
was my philosophy back in the old days. So two months later, Tina calls me up and says she's pregnant, says it's mine, but I know she's been fucking my best friend Paul for the expressed purpose of getting knocked up and trying to tag me with it. So I tell her to stick an ice-pick up her hole and prick the kid out into the toilet, then she starts screaming and cuts her wrists. The only bad part is she didn't die. Spent a couple years in the state ward, and here she is back again, trawling for cock at the bar."
That
was my philosophy back in the old days. So two months later, Tina calls me up and says she's pregnant, says it's mine, but I know she's been fucking my best friend Paul for the expressed purpose of getting knocked up and trying to tag me with it. So I tell her to stick an ice-pick up her hole and prick the kid out into the toilet, then she starts screaming and cuts her wrists. The only bad part is she didn't die. Spent a couple years in the state ward, and here she is back again, trawling for cock at the bar."
Ajax looked exhausted from the shock of what he was hearing. "Man, you fuckin' ranch-boys are hardcore woman-hating pieces of
shit.
"
shit.
"
"Yeah... and I was the biggest piece of shit of them all," Dean said. "So now you understand why we can't go into the bar. Half the girls in there would want to kill me, the other half would want to marry me. That's just the way it is. I ain't just some guy walking the street in DeSmet. I'm
Dean Lohan.
And that name is bad news in
this
berg, buddy."
Dean Lohan.
And that name is bad news in
this
berg, buddy."
Ajax's astonished stared never lightened. It took full minutes for him to speak again. He cast a last hard squint at the tavern windows. "Let me guess," he said. "You've fucked every girl in that bar."
Dean roved his own squint across the windows. "Yeah."
"What a fuckin' stud!"
Dean started the engine back up, then pulled out of the parking lot. "They all look real good," he said, "sure. But after a couple of pops, they ain't nothing but wet slits. Upside down in the snow, it all looks the same. It's just a hot hole attached to a yammering mouth that won't shut up. Fuck it. Who needs the headache?" Dean paused to spit out the window. "Here's a question: What's the best way to make a woman have an orgasm?"
"What?"
"Who cares?" Dean laughed aloud. He tromped the gas and spun wheels out of the lot.
««—»»
The first tints of dusk were touching the sky when Dean turned off onto the long familiar service road lined by perfect endless hedge-rows. The grasslands beyond shimmered a deep, fecund green, wavering in breezes which skimmed up the rolling hills. The road wound upward, and soon the perfect hedge-rows gave over to perfectly spaced sassafras trees a hundred feet high.
"This is some scenery," Ajax remarked, gazing out past the road. By now his gawp had practically become a permanent facial feature.
"It's beautiful land, and about forty thousand acres of it belong to us."
"Jesus. That's a shitload of real estate."
Eventually the road led up to the highest hill and Dean was pulling around a plush cul-de-sac appointed with statues, a fountain, and more meticulously trimmed hedges.
"Here's my old digs," Dean said and parked.
Before them loomed the Lohan mansion.
"Digs?" Ajax remarked. "It looks like something on
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
You never told me you were a millionaire's kid."
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
You never told me you were a millionaire's kid."
They got out and carried their luggage to the house, passing the gushing marble fountain. "The Lohan Ranch is the biggest and most productive ranch in the entire state," Dean said. "My father had the mansion built in 1980. He made five million in net profit that year."
Ajax just gasped.
Great stone columns, like those of a southern plantation house, fronted the wide three-story edifice whose outer brick walls were now almost festooned completely with sheets of ivy. Higher, cement verandas jutted from the mansion's face, and warm light glowed behind high casement windows. Slate-topped steps led to the wide double doors sided by polished-granite blocks which gave perch for lazing stone lions.
When Dean opened the ornate front doors, he was at once greeted by a bosomy, well-rounded woman of indeterminate age wearing a bland housedress and with long ink-black hair streaked with gray.
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