Body Rides Page 5

  She had hair like a pixie. Short, golden, but wildly mussed.

  Her shirt was unfastened partway down. It showed her throat, the curves of her collar bones, and a narrowing strip of tanned skin down the middle of her chest. The skin there looked shiny with sweat. A few inches below her throat was a smear of blood.

  In several places, her blood had soaked through the shirt. Some of the blood, Neal realized, might be his own. The rips and dirt, and likely some of the blood, had probably been the result of his rough fall in the field.

  Most of the blood, though, had to be Elise’s.

  Her legs looked as if someone had rubbed them, thigh to knee, with wet red hands.

  ‘I’ll have to find you something to wear,’ she said. ‘Your shirt’s ruined.’

  ‘That’s all right. I’ll . . .’

  ‘What happened to you, anyway?’ she asked.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You’re a wreck, too.’

  He looked down at himself. He was a little surprised to find that he was bare to the waist. He had a few scratches on his chest and belly. And some reddish areas that would soon become bruises. Nothing serious. His shorts were filthy in front, but not torn. Layers of skin had been scraped off both his knees. His elbows were probably as bad as his knees, but he didn’t bother to look at them.

  ‘I took a little fall,’ he explained.

  ‘I didn’t see it.’

  ‘On my way over to you.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hey, it’s nothing. Really. You’re the one who got messed up.’

  She shrugged. ‘You really should take a shower,’ she said. ‘Wait here a second.’

  She hurried past him, disappeared briefly into her bedroom, and returned with a white terry-cloth robe. She held it out to him. ‘You can put this on after you’re done, and I’ll run your things through the wash.’

  ‘It’s really not necessary.’

  ‘You’ll feel a lot better once you’re all nice and clean.’

  ‘I don’t . . .’

  ‘Please.’

  He sighed. ‘Well . . . okay.’ He took the robe from her.

  ‘Good. When you’re finished, just make yourself at home. There’s a bar in the den.’ She nodded down the hall. ‘Go ahead and make yourself a drink if I’m not out yet.’

  ‘Do you want me to look the place over first? Make sure nobody’s . . . you know, lurking around?’

  ‘Don’t bother. Unless you want to. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Two attackers in one night? What’re the odds?’

  ‘Not very great,’ Neal admitted. ‘Unless the guy had an accomplice.’

  ‘I didn’t see one.’

  ‘People like him usually work alone. Not always, but usually.’

  ‘I’m not worried. If you’re worried, though, feel free to look around. My house is your house. In the meantime, though, I have to get cleaned up.’ She turned away and headed for her bedroom. Not looking back, she raised a hand and said, ‘Later.’ Then she was gone.

  Neal stood in the hallway, holding the robe, listening. When he heard the water start to run, he figured that Elise was safe: nobody, at least, had jumped her in the master bathroom.

  He entered the guest bathroom, shut the door, and hung the robe on a hook.

  The doorknob had a lock button.

  He thumbed it down.

  Just in case, he thought.

  He looked at himself in the enormous mirror over the sink and counter, and shook his head.

  You’re nuts if you think she’ll try to come in.

  Am I? he wondered. I’m not such a bad-looking guy, we’re about the same age, she obviously likes me, and I did save her life.

  He started unloading his pockets onto the counter by the sink.

  She won’t come, he told himself. For one thing, I told her all about Marta. For another, I’m not in her class. Financially or physically. Not even close. Gals like her don’t get involved with guys like me.

  She’s awfully grateful, though. Who knows? Maybe my reward will be a visit while I’m showering.

  Done emptying his pockets, he took off his shoes and socks, his shorts and briefs.

  It seemed odd to be naked in a stranger’s house.

  We’re not exactly strangers, he told himself. I did save her life.

  He could hear the faint, rushy sound of water from the other bathroom.

  She’s naked, too, he thought. We both are.

  Separated only by a few walls and doors.

  He pictured her standing under the other shower, water cascading down her body, her skin agleam.

  What would she do if I went to her?

  He smirked and shook his head.

  No way, he thought. And if she tries coming to me, she’ll have to pick the lock.

  Six

  When Neal was done showering, he couldn’t hear water from Elise’s bathroom. He dried himself, keeping the towel away from the abrasions on his knees and elbows. He used toilet paper to pat those areas dry. The wounds seemed a little leaky, but not bad.

  A gentle knocking on the door made him flinch.

  ‘It’s me,’ Elise said.

  He snatched the robe off the hook.

  ‘When you’re done,’ Elise continued, ‘just leave your clothes in there, and I’ll …’

  Robe on, he said, ‘Just a second.’ He shut the robe and tied its cloth belt. ‘You can have them now.’ He opened the door.

  Elise smiled. ‘Good timing,’ she said. She looked wonderfully fresh and clean. Her short hair, damp and shiny, was neatly combed. Her face was a little flushed from the shower. She wore blue satin pajamas. Here and there, small drops of moisture had seeped through the top. ‘What?’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘Nothing. You look . . . like nothing ever happened to you.’

  ‘You should see all the bandages under my p.j.s. Here, let me in and I’ll pick up your stuff.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he said.

  ‘No, no. Go on to the bar and make yourself something. I already turned the lights on for you. Next room down the hall. You can’t miss it. I’ll be along in a couple of minutes. Make me a vodka and tonic, okay?’

  ‘Well . . .’ He wondered if there might be an inconspicuous way to rescue his briefs from the small heap of clothes on the bathroom floor. Sort of embarrassing to think of Elise picking them up.

  ‘Chop-chop, move it or lose it.’

  ‘Let me get my socks and underwear,’ he muttered.

  ‘They’ll be safe with me. I promise. Out of my way, buddy.’

  Blushing, Neal smiled and shook his head and stepped past her. She entered the bathroom.

  Okay, he told himself. No big deal. Forget it.

  The next room down was lighted, just as she’d said. An L-shaped counter occupied a corner near the sliding doors to the pool. It had four padded stools in front of it.

  Neal stepped down off the hallway and walked toward the bar. The carpet felt soft and thick under his bare feet.

  Ahead of him, a wall of glass faced the pool area. He couldn’t see the pool, though. He couldn’t see much of anything out there. The glass, like a black mirror, reflected the living room and Neal walking in the white, terry robe.

  He looked a little transparent. So did everything else.

  He didn’t enjoy the view.

  He wondered if someone might be on the other side of the glass, staring in.

  Turning away from the glass, he gave the den a casual scan. It had a long, oak coffee table, a large sofa that looked very comfortable, several lamps and a few reclining chairs. Most of the wall space consisted of bookshelves. Across the floor from the sofa was a television with a screen that looked about four times larger than the screen of Neal’s TV.

  Man, he thought, what would it be like to watch some videos on that baby!

  That’s a reward I might be tempted to accept.

  But I won’t, he told himself. I won’t accept anything. Wouldn’t be right.

>   Before stepping behind the bar, he grabbed the handle of the sliding door and pulled. The door skidded sideways.

  My God, he thought. Doesn’t she lock anything? She’s lucky she’s lasted this long.

  He shut the door and locked it.

  Then he stepped around the bar. Behind it were shelves of drinking glasses and bottles, a sink, and a small refrigerator. He took down a couple of glasses. In the freezer compartment of the refrigerator, he found ice cubes.

  What a set-up, he thought. What a house. Must be incredible to live like this.

  What the hell, he thought. You, too, might have a place like this someday. All it’ll take is a little luck, a little hard work, a major miracle . . .

  From somewhere near the other end of the house came a faint, low humming sound. The washing machine starting, he supposed. He made a vodka and tonic for Elise, and the same for himself. He had just squeezed a wedge of lemon into each drink when she arrived.

  ‘All set,’ she said, stepping down into the den. ‘Did you find everything you needed?’

  He lifted both glasses.

  ‘Great.’ She walked toward the bar, her bare feet silent on the carpet. Neal saw the way her breasts were moving inside her satin pajama shirt, and looked away.

  My God, he thought, if Marta ever found out about this . . .

  Not that I’ve done anything wrong.

  Just that it would seem so bad.

  Elise stopped at the other side of the bar. As she reached for one of the drinks, her sleeve slipped away from her wrist.

  She wore a brilliant, gold bracelet.

  It looked heavy and very expensive.

  Though Neal only caught a glimpse of the bracelet, it appeared to have a reptile design – a slender body in the shape of a lizard, or maybe an alligator or snake.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said as she took the drink.

  ‘Thank you. Your stuff.’

  ‘What’s mine is yours.’

  ‘No. Huh-uh.’

  ‘Oh yes it is. Everything. From now on.’

  ‘I don’t want anything of yours,’ he told her. ‘Really.’

  ‘You don’t have to take anything you don’t want,’ she told him. ‘But everything is yours.’

  He shook his head.

  She smiled. ‘Anyway, don’t worry about it. Why don’t you come over here and sit down?’

  Carrying his drink, he stepped around the bar. He followed Elise to the sofa. She sat on it, switched the glass to her other hand, and patted the cushion by her side. ‘Right here,’ she said.

  Neal sat beside her, but a little farther away than she’d indicated.

  She turned toward him, lifting her arm onto the back of the sofa and sliding her right leg onto the cushion. She bent her leg at the knee, and tucked its foot beneath her left knee.

  She raised her glass. ‘A toast,’ she said. ‘To a fate worse than death, and the fellow who saved me from it.’

  ‘Well . . .’

  She clinked her glass against his, then took a drink. ‘Mmmm. Very good.’

  Neal tasted some of his, then took a large swallow. He sighed. ‘Does hit the spot,’ he said.

  ‘Now, down to business.’

  ‘There isn’t any business, Elise. Really. I don’t want a reward. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time, and things worked out. I’m really glad I saved you. I mean, I think you’re . . . a very nice woman.’

  She grinned. ‘Nice?’

  ‘Hell, you’re terrific.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So, I mean, saving you was its own reward. You know what I mean?’

  ‘I know. But I’m not going to let it go at that.’

  ‘You can’t make me take anything.’

  ‘I’m not going to try. I already told you that. But everything is yours, when you want it. And I intend to write a will . . .’

  ‘No, don’t. My God.’

  ‘That’s all right, I don’t plan to die in the near future.’

  ‘You can’t put me in your will.’

  ‘Sure I can. And I will. That’s why they call it a “will.”’

  ‘No, jeez.’

  ‘Don’t sweat it, I might even outlive you. How old are you, anyway?’

  ‘Twenty-eight.’

  ‘I’m thirty-two, so . . .’

  ‘You are?’

  ‘I know, I’m well preserved.’

  ‘My God. I would’ve thought twenty-five.’

  ‘Thanks, I guess. Anyway, I don’t have any family. You’re the most important person in my life, Neal.’

  ‘The most . . .? No. Come on. Maybe I seem that way tonight, but . . .’

  ‘You saved me,’ she said with a sudden fierce urgency. ‘Don’t you get it? I’d be toast right now . . . or maybe screaming my head off and wishing I was dead. He would’ve killed me, sooner or later. No question about it. I’d be dead. So this is the thing: I’d have nothing if it weren’t for you. No house, no bank accounts, no jewelry, no future, nothing. No me. So it’s all yours.’

  ‘But I don’t want . . .’

  ‘I know, I know. And I understand that, and I accept it. You don’t have to take anything. But everything is yours, regardless. Everything.’

  His mouth suddenly felt awfully dry. He took another drink. ‘You don’t mean . . .’ He couldn’t say it.

  ‘Me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Of course.’

  He heard himself moan.

  Elise’s smile returned. ‘Don’t worry about it. If you’re in love with Marta . . . just figure you’ve always got me in reserve, if you want me.’

  ‘You gotta be kidding,’ he mumbled.

  ‘I think you know better than that.’

  ‘You don’t even know me.’

  ‘I know enough,’ she said. ‘I’m yours – if and when you want me.’

  Elise took another drink, then leaned out toward the coffee table and set down her glass. ‘Everything that’s mine is yours,’ she said. ‘Whenever you want it. But I would like you to have this tonight.’

  She slipped the gold bracelet off her hand, and held it toward him.

  A snake – a single, thick coil of intricately detailed gold, the head swallowing the tail. The eyes of the snake were a pair of brilliant green gems. Emeralds?

  Neal shook his head. ‘No, no. I can’t take that.’

  ‘It’s the most valuable thing I have.’

  ‘All the more reason.’

  ‘Put out your hand.’

  ‘Elise.’

  ‘Please. For me.’

  ‘What am I supposed to tell Marta, she sees me with a thing like this?’

  ‘Just the truth. Or don’t let her see it. That’s up to you.’

  ‘I can’t take it. Really.’

  ‘Just try it on for a minute.’

  He couldn’t see any harm in that, so he switched the glass to his left hand and held his right toward Elise. She slipped the bracelet over his hand and around his wrist.

  It was warm from being on Elise.

  It felt heavy.

  ‘Really beautiful,’ he said.

  ‘It’s a lot more than that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s not just beautiful, it’s magical.’

  Smiling, he raised his eyes to Elise. ‘It does card tricks?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m serious.’

  ‘A magic bracelet?’

  ‘That’s right. It was a gift to me. I’ve had it since I was sixteen. It was a present from . . . a very wonderful man. A poet. His name was Jimmy O’Rourke. We fell . . . quite madly in love. But he had to go back to Ireland.’

  ‘An Irishman?’

  Elise nodded. ‘He was over here as a guest lecturer at UCLA.’

  ‘How old was he?’ Neal asked.

  ‘Oh, thirty-five.’

  ‘And you were sixteen?’

  ‘I know. Awful. But I was smitten. He was lovely, and you should’ve heard him talk.’ She sighed. �
�Anyway, I met him when I was with some girlfriends over in Westwood Village. We were browsing through a bookstore, and . . . he started talking to me. He hardly had two words out of his mouth before I was head over heels. After that, we could hardly stay away from each other.’

  ‘What about your parents?’

  ‘They didn’t know anything about him. I made up stories about going over to a friend’s house. Or to the mall. Or to the beach. But the friend was always Jimmy O’Rourke, and my folks never caught on. They would’ve been horrified, no doubt about it – their daughter going around with a man that age. Not that we . . . there was nothing at all sordid about it. We were so much in love.’

  Neal saw tears in her eyes.

  ‘Then the end of summer came, and Jimmy’s mother phoned him from Shannon. His sister’d been in a car accident. She was in a critical condition, and they didn’t know whether she would make it.’ Sniffing, Elise wiped her eyes.

  ‘Did she live?’ Neal asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I never heard from Jimmy again, after he left. Before he went away, though, he gave me this.’ With the tips of her fingers, she patted the bracelet on Neal’s wrist. ‘He called it a “faerie bracelet.” Apparently, back when he was a student at Trinity, he was out on the town one night and happened across a burning building. He heard someone screaming, so he rushed in. He found a blind woman upstairs. She was hysterical, didn’t know which way to go. So Jimmy picked her up and carried her outside. Saved her life. She was wearing this bracelet, and she gave it to him. She insisted that he take it. And she told him that he was free to give it away, whenever he pleased, if he should find someone deserving. So he gave it to me.’

  ‘Did you save his life?’ Neal asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why did you deserve it?’

  ‘He loved me.’ Tears again came to her eyes. ‘He told me that he had never . . . loved anyone the way he loved me. And that I deserved to have a life full of wonders and strange delights.’ Again, she used the back of her hand to wipe her tears away. Then she sniffed. ‘So, that’s that.’

  Neal’s throat felt tight. He swallowed, then said, ‘You never heard from him again?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Why? If he loved you so much . . .’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Did you ever try to get in touch with him?’