She was up close against him by now, her hands digging into the shaggy blond hair at the nape of his neck. She worked herself against his body, breathing hotly against him. He looked at me for a moment, his feverish eyes laughing at me, then he swung her up in his arms. In his left hand he carried the rifle, dropping it beside the bed. His hands moved over her and he dragged off the dungarees. I did not move. Marve placed the gun in reach of his right hand on the bed beside her and when she screamed the sound got inside my head and whirled there, wailing and spinning until I was sick.
***
I stood against the side of the window, my forehead pressed against the two-by-four framing. The wooden window cover was pushed out, propped against the sill by a plank. The glass was smashed, jagged shards showing. There was no screen. Outside a blue jay cried, and I heard a deep-throated growl, some animal I had no memory of having ever heard before.
I did not know how I had got to the window. I suppose I could have run out the door and kept running. I don't know. All I could think of was the sickness roiling in my stomach.
She was Marve Pooser's woman. There was nothing he couldn't do to her. My stomach shook. Charlie Bullock got his face slashed. I got a knife in my throat. She went crazy when Marve Pooser touched her. The thing that was clearest was that she had belonged to him for a long time. He knew the combination. She had tried to fight him off because I was there, but he knew her weaknesses. She had no strength to fight him.
My fists clenched. Sure. Wasn't that the way with every dame? I had believed that Lily wanted only riches and escape from the backwoods, but she had had another strength. She could run to Marve Pooser.
I shivered. I was shot through with disgust thinking about it. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe I'd never get it out of my mind. I should have stopped wanting her the minute Marve pushed her over on that bed. I should have been free of her.
Sure, I hated her. I could have throttled her, choked the life out of her, beat the hell out of her, kissed her until her mouth bled. But I wasn't free of her.
I shook my head. I just had to face the truth. She was his woman. That was what he had wanted to show me. Maybe that was the single reason I was still alive. Marve Pooser had to show me that this was his woman. Ninety guys and not one of them could touch her. Then the one guy who had her pushed her over and treated her like scuffed shoes… or dirt… or both.
Through my mind raced that moment when she had slashed the pole down over the side of Charlie Bullock's head. I could still see the way he caught at his face, the blood running down the cuff of his expensive jacket. Then she breathed through her mouth, trembling on the bank of that river, but when I reached for her, I got the point of a knife against my throat. Now in Marve Pooser's shack, he shoved her around and she groveled, afraid to make him angry.
I beat my fist against the rough pine two-by-four. For the first time in my life I knew what jealousy could do to your guts. I saw what it was like to hate a guy just because he could push over a woman I couldn't even touch.
"Jake, boy."
Marve was standing behind me. I turned, wincing. Beyond him I saw Lily sprawled on the bed where he had left her. She had pulled a sheet over her, and her hair lay black across the pillow.
Marve's sharp taunting laughter jerked my gaze back to his face.
"Come on, Jake, outside. Let's leave the little girl alone for a while. She's probably tired. Don't you think she's tired, Jake? Don't you think she wants to rest?"
I looked at the automatic in his hand.
"You son of a bitch," I said.
He smiled widely. "No use, Jake. You ain't going to make me kill you. I'll do that. I'll decide."
"Why don't you kill me?"
"What's the matter, Jake? Got you all upset? Hell, that's my girl. She's missed me. Been a long time."
"You're still a son of a bitch."
He went on laughing. "Don't push me, Jake."
"You either shoot me or let me alone."
"Don't tell me, Jake. I'll tell you." The smile left his face. He jerked his head toward the open door. "I told you, let's take a little walk."
I turned, walked out of the shack. I went down the steps into the sun. I had not realized my clothes were sweated through. The slight breeze made me shiver with cold. The sun beat down, basting me in my sweat.
The yard was bare; beyond it the gray jack oaks stretched out across the flat land, reflecting the sun. On a ridge a mass of pines were round balls against the cloudless sky.
That animal growl broke across the stillness again. I tensed. Behind me, Marve laughed.
"My pet 'gator, Jake. Want to see him?"
He prodded me with the gun and whether I wanted to or not, I moved ahead of him across the yard to a pen he had hastily erected from clapboards and fence rails. Inside the pen was a twelve-foot alligator.
Most of the alligators I had ever seen had lain dozing in the heat, but this one clawed at the railings, pushing its long snout upward. It fell back and lay writhing.
"You hungry, boy?" Marve put a lot of false sympathy in his voice. "Ain't had the food to spare for this fellow. Wonder he ain't broke out. Nothing mean as a hungry 'gator."
I stared at Marve Pooser. He was laughing at me, mouth twisted. "Hell of a way to get your kicks," I said.
Marve laughed. "Hear that, Bull? This man thinks I ought to let you go. You wouldn't like that, would you, Bull? You know I'm going to feed you, don't you, Bull? Hell, I take care of my pets. I'll feed you, old boy, just as soon as I can."
He stared at me, letting his sardonic gaze move over me. I turned and walked away.
I decided that Marve meant to kill me out here in the yard. He let me walk about ten paces away from him. He said, "That's far enough, Jake."
I stood there, waiting for a bullet to strike me between the shoulder blades. They say you never hear the shot that gets you. I hoped that was true. I wanted it to be quick.
Nothing happened. Marve said, "Hell, Jake, if I shot you now, it wouldn't be any fun. You haven't had time to think about it yet."
I turned, staring beyond him at the 'gator pen. I knew what I was, the latest of Marve Pooser's captive pets. He had cut the fangs out of the coral snake, starved the bull 'gator, and now he wanted to watch me sweat.
I walked away from him. If he wanted to stop me let him kill me. For the moment I was alive, and if I was going to stay alive, I'd better clear out the jealousy and the hatred and think. I hadn't followed Marve Pooser a thousand miles into the scrub country to die. I'd wanted something when I'd started looking for him. If I could clear my mind a moment, I'd still want it.
"If'n I put a bullet in your leg," Marve's lazy voice trailed after me, "you wouldn't walk so much, would you?"
I turned then, in spite of myself. He was aiming the gun at my groin, smiling.
I walked slowly back toward the shack.
"Man, you're showing sense," he said.
I sat down on the steps, breathing through my mouth. I tried to close Marve Pooser out of my mind. I thought about Lily, lying on his bed in there, and the sickness started. I throttled it. I let my mind go back to the few hours we'd had on that river. They hadn't been bad hours, even with the knife between us. Compared with this moment, they'd been a kind of bitter-sweet heaven.
I remembered the way she had looked, scowling and deep in thought at the idea of delaying overnight along the river with me. Suddenly I knew why. I knew what had been on her mind. She'd known that Marve was awaiting us, and she had known something else, something I had learned about Marve Pooser. He had to be better than any other man. He had to be able to lord it over other men, or nothing had any taste for him. Lily had known Marve was going to hate the idea of her spending the night alone on the river with me.
I lifted my head, looking up at him.
"What are you laughing at?"
I hadn't known I was laughing, but if he thought it was laughter, I didn't contradict him. I wasn't the only jealous man in this scrub country. Hadn't Marve Pooser threatened to harm Betty, whom he scarcely knew, if she left the barroom with me? Hadn't he got jittery at the thought she might prefer me?
"I'm laughing at you," I said.
"Have yourself a ball, Jake-boy. Get all the laughing outside you while you can."
"Don't you want to know why I'm laughing? I'm laughing at your performance on that bed in there. I was wondering if Lily liked it more than-last night on the river."
Before I could breathe again, he had lunged forward, snagged my shirt in his fist and slashed the gun-butt across my temple.
The scrub country wheeled around my head. "What are you talking about?" His voice was shaking. He was trembling all over.
I felt the blood run down my face. I could not straighten up. But I was in better shape than he was. He looked as though he were going to be sick.
His fist shook me. "Don't you lie to me. Don't you ever lie to me."
I shook my head, trying to clear it. Blood seeped into my mouth, bitter and salty.
He yelled, "Lily."
She didn't answer at once and he yelled for her again, and again, his raging screams rolling hoarsely across the scrub.
She came out onto the porch. He released me and I sank back against the step. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, everything was in place, but I saw it through a haze.
"On the river," he gasped at her, choking. "What happened?"
She shook her head, her face twisted. "Marve. Nothing. Nothing, Marve."
He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, gagging. "You spent the night on the river."
She caught his arms, her mouth working, eyes distended. "Nothing, Marve. We had to. A man-a man followed us, Marve. We had to."
"Don't lie to me. You rotten no-good little tramp. Couldn't wait to get out here. Had to flop on your back before you got here."
"No, Marve."
"Don't you lie. I warn you, slut, don't you lie."
"I swear, Marve. Ask him. Ask him." She could hardly speak. She flung her arm out, gesturing toward me.
"Sure," I said. "Nothing happened. Would she tell you if it had? If she don't want to tell you, Marve-"
"Oh, no." She moaned it aloud. She knew I had fixed her. It didn't matter what she said now, Marve was never going to believe her. "I wouldn't, Marve. Oh, so help me, I wouldn't."
His face twisted. He gasped for breath, gripping the butt of his gun until his knuckles were white. He started low and backhanded her across the face. The sound of knuckles against her face was loud in the silence. She staggered back, her knees buckled and she struck against the porch wall, sliding down it, the back of her hand pressed against her bleeding mouth.
"You'll tell me." He stood over her. "So help me you'll tell me. You're going to be glad to tell me before I'm through."
She was crying weakly. "Nothing, Marve. Oh, before God, Marve, nothing."
He stared down at her. Then he turned and ran down the steps. I had not moved. I had my hand pressed against my bleeding temple.
There was nothing in his eyes. They were like the eyes of the hungry bull alligator out there in that pen, empty and frantic. He stood there, trembling over me, finger pressing against the trigger of that automatic.
When he didn't pull the trigger, I knew. Whatever he was saving me for, it was going to be good, because in that moment he wanted to kill me so badly that sobs shook his belly when he wouldn't let himself do it.
***
Lily lay on the rumpled bed all that afternoon. When I looked at her, she was whimpering.
Marve paced the small room like some bobcat he might have trapped and caged. For a long time there he couldn't make up his mind. He'd look at me, wanting to kill me. His eyes said if I'd had Lily along the river, then the score on Betty wasn't evened, and he could not live as long as I was breathing. No matter what threats he made, Lily only cried and shook her head. "Nothing, Marve. Before God."
He was like a man gone wild because he was unable to learn a definite truth. Doubt was eating at him, and he could not sit still.
By nightfall he had got himself under control. A dozen times he said, "Sure. You're the liar, Jake. Lily wouldn't lie to me. I'd walk out on you if you lied to me, wouldn't I, Lily?"
"I didn't lie, Jake." Her eyes spilled tears. She cried herself to sleep.
Marve made a fire in the fireplace and the yellow glow wavered and reached weakly toward the far walls. It glistened in Lily's hair. The sight of her sleeping seemed to soothe Marve and he was better off than I was. I had seen them on the bed together. Nothing could ever erase that.
He finally exhaled and laughed. "Sure. You lied. You were trying to cut me deep, weren't you, Jake? Trying to push me?"
"Think what you want to. You know Lily."
In the firelight, I saw that eating at him. There was a noise in the night and he sat forward, tense, listening. It was not repeated. By the time he had relaxed on the chair again, his doubt was gone.
No one had mentioned food all day. None of us was hungry. There was an emptiness inside me, but it had nothing to do with need for food.
Marve heated a pot of water, shook some instant coffee from a bottle into a tin cup, filled it from the pot. He sat drinking it, watching me. He did not ask me to have a cup and I wasn't about to ask for any.