I Will Fear No Evil (32 page)

“Eunice—”

“Yes, Jake?”

“My father was a tailor. I was sitting in tailor’s seat before I was eight. Will that do?”

“Certainly if you are comfortable. If not, any position that lets you relax. For you have to forget your body.”

“Squatted in a tailor’s position I can fall asleep. But what’s this prayer?”

Joan Eunice slipped off her negligee, melted down onto the rug into meditation pose, soles upward on her thighs, palms upward in her lap. “It goes like this. Om Mani Padme Hum.” (Om Mani Padme Hum. I should have taught Jake this long ago.)

“I know the phrase. ‘The Jewel in the Lotus.’ But what does it mean to
you
, Joan Eunice?”

Winifred had followed Joan’s example as quickly as she set it, was bare and in Lotus—and not blushing. She answered, “It means everything and nothing, Mr. Salomon. It is all the good things you know of—bravery and beauty and gentleness and not wanting what you can’t have and being happy with what you do have and trees swaying in the wind and fat little babies gurgling when you tickle their feet and anything that makes life good. Love. It always means love. But you don’t think about it, you don’t think at all, you don’t even try not to think. You chant the prayer and just
be
—until you find yourself floating, all warm and good and relaxed.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” He took off his bathrobe, had under it boxer’s shorts. “Joan Eunice, when did you take up yoga? Winnie teach you?”

“Oh, no!” said Winifred. “Miss Joan taught
me
—she’s much farther along the Path than I am.”

(Watch it, Boss!) (No huhu, Lulu.) “One learns many things, Jake—and loses them for lack of time. I used to play chess, yet I haven’t set up a board for fifty years. But for longer than that I could no longer even attempt a Lotus seat . . . until Eunice gave me this wonderful young body which can do anything.”(Which shell is the pea under, Eunice?) (It’ll be under
you
if you relax too much; you should have emptied our bladder.) (Never fear, dear. I shan’t go under, must watch Jake.) “Join us, Jake. You lead, Winnie; start as soon as Jake is in position.”

Salomon started to sit on the floor, suddenly stopped and got out of his shorts. Joan was delighted, taking it as a sign that he had decided to give in to it all the way. But she did not let her serene expression change nor move her eyes. Winifred was staring at her navel; if she noticed it, she did not show it.

“Inhale,” Winifred said softly. “Om Mani Padme Hum. Hold. Om Mani Padme Hum. Breath out. Om Mani Padme Hum. Hold. . . . . . ”

(Om Mani Padme Hum. Dig that clamdigger, dearie?) (Shut up! You’ll ruin the mood. Om Mani Padme Hum.)

“Om Mani Padme Hum!” said Salomon in a voice that would have graced a cathedral. “Om Mani Padme Hum!”

“Winnie darling,” Joan said softly. “Let it fade and wake up wide. We’re going to have to wake Jake.”

The redhead’s eyes fluttered, she whispered one more prayer and waited. “Jake darling,” Joan said softly, “Eunice is calling. Wake just enough to let us help you into bed. Eunice is calling you back. Jake dearest.”

“I hear you, Eunice.”

“How do you feel?”

“Eh? Relaxed. Wonderful. Much rested but ready to sleep. Say, it
does
work. But it’s just autohypnosis.”

“Did I even hint that it was anything else? Jake, I don’t expect to find God by staring into my belly button. But it does work . . . and it’s better than forcing your body with drugs. Now let Winnie and me help you into bed.”

“I can manage.”

“Of course you can but I don’t want the relaxation to wear off. Indulge me, Jake, let us baby you. Please.”

He smiled and let them—slid onto the opened bed, let them cover him, smiled again when Joan Eunice gave him a motherly good-night kiss, seemed unsurprised when Winifred followed her mistress’s example—turned on his side and was asleep as the girls left the room.

“Don’t bother,” Joan said as Winifred started to put on her negligee. “It’s my house and no one comes upstairs after dinner unless sent for. Except Hubert and I assume that Jake sent him to bed, knowing that he was to be called on by two tarts in three quarter time and not much else.” She slid an arm around the redhead’s slender waist. “Winnie, much as I like to dress up—isn’t it
nice
to wear just skin?”

“I like it. Indoors. Not outdoors, I sunburn so badly.”

“What about at night? When I was a boy, ages and ages ago, it got unbearably hot in July and August where we lived—the sidewalks used to burn my bare feet. Houses were bake ovens even at night—no air-conditioning. An electric fan was a luxury most people did not have. Nights when I couldn’t sleep because of heat I used to sneak quiet as a mouse and bare as a frog out the back door, being oh so careful not to let my parents hear, and walk naked in the dark, with grass cool on my feet and the soft night breeze velvet on my skin. Heavenly!”

“It sounds heavenly. But I would be terrified of getting mugged.”

“The word ‘mug’ hadn’t been invented, much less any fear of it. I was a middle-aged man before I became wary of the dark.” They turned into the master bedroom. “Kiss me good-night, Winsome, and go keep your date. Sleep late in the morning; I’m going to.”

“Uh, my date isn’t until after midnight. Aren’t you going to tell me what happened today?”

“Why, of course, dear. Thought you might be in a hurry. Come take a bath with me?”

“If you want me to. I bathed after dinner.”

“And you have your face on for your date. I bathed this morning but it seems a week ago. Sniff me and tell me how badly I stink.”

“You smell all right. Luscious.”

“Then I’ll let it go with toothbrush and bidet and a swipe at my armpits; I’d rather go to bed.”

“You haven’t had dinner.”

“Not all that hungry. Just happy. Is there milk in my bedroom fridge? Milk and crackers is all I want. Want to join me with a glass for yourself and get crumbs in bed and talk girl talk? Things I can’t mention to dear Jake now that I’m a girl and not mean, old, cantankerous Johann.”

“Joanie, I don’t believe you ever were cantankerous.”

“Oh, yes, I was, hon. I hurt most of the time and was depressed all of the time and wasn’t fit to live with. But Joan Eunice is never depressed; her bowels are too regular. Scrounge us two glasses of milk and a box of crackers while I take a pretend bath. Don’t go downstairs; there will be something over there in the iron rations. Fig newtons, maybe, or vanilla wafers.”

Soon they were sitting, munching, in the big bed while Joan Eunice gave an edited account of the day: “—so we visited in Judge Mac’s chambers and let the car go ahead, as Judge Mac the sweet darling wouldn’t hear of my leaving through the streets. Even though the phony riot was over. Then we switched from copter to car at Safe Harbor and came home.” (Protecting her ‘innocence,’ twin?) (Not bloody likely. Protecting Jake’s reputation.)

“But the best part of the day was when I took off that street robe and let ‘em look at the Acapulco outfit you dressed me in. Made ’em go ape, dear.”

“ ‘Ape?’ ”

“Out-of-date slang. They dropped one wing and ran in circles, like a rooster about to tread a strange hen.”

“It wasn’t the outfit, it was you.”

“Both. Eunice Branca had a heavenly body and I’m doing my best to justify it. With your help. As may be, both those darling men kissed me the nearest thing to rape I’ve encountered.”

“Better than Dr. Garcia?”

“I don’t think Dr. Garcia gave me his all-out best. I think he was inhibited by surprise and by the presence of a redheaded nurse I could name. But these two weren’t inhibited and had a couple of drinks in them and each was going his darnedest to do better than the other one.
Whew!
Winnie, I do not exaggerate—if Jake hadn’t been there, I think they would have had me down on the rug for a gang bang in two seconds.”

“Uh . . . would you have struggled?” (Going to be truthful, tart?) (Who taught me to be a tart? Any reason not to tell her, Eunice?) (None. Except that she’s likely to rape you herself.) (Oh, pooh, she’s just killing time till her date.) (Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

“Winnie, if I were a real lady, I would be horrified. But I won’t pretend with my chum. I don’t know much about being female but I seem to have strong instincts. Cross my heart, if either of those sweet men had given me a gentle shove, I would have landed on that rug with my legs open and eyes closed. Gang bang? By then I felt ready to take on a regiment.”

Winifred said thoughtfully, “It happened to me once.”

“A
regiment
?”

“No. A gang bang.”

“Well, let’s shoo the crumbs out of bed and squeeze down the lights and snuggle and you tell big sister. Were they mean to you?”

“Not really. Oh, dear, I’m blushing already. Turn off everything but one floor light and let me tell it against your neck.”

“That better?”

“Yes.”

“Now tell Mama.”

“Uh, it was the night I graduated from training. I wasn’t a virgin—I’m not sure there was a virgin in my class. But this was something else. Some interns gave a party for some of us. That was fine and I expected one of them to get me alone. Interns are the horniest people and a girl didn’t accept a date with one unless she meant business. But the party was loads of champagne and no food. Joan, I had never had champagne before.”

“Oho! I can write the ending.”

“Well . . . champagne doesn’t
taste
strong. I sopped up a lot of it.

“Then I was in bed and it was happening. Wasn’t surprised and tried to cooperate. But things were vague. I noticed that he wasn’t dark-haired after all; he had hair as red as mine. When I had been certain that he was dark-haired and had a mustache. When I noticed later that he was almost bald, I realized that something odd was going on. Joan, there were seven interns at that party. I think all of them had me before morning. I don’t know how many times. I knew what was happening after thick, curly red hair was replaced by mostly bald. But I didn’t try to stop it. Uh . . . I didn’t
want
it to stop. A nympho, hush?”

“I don’t know, dear, but that’s the way I felt this afternoon. Wanted it to happen at last, wanted it to go on happening—and
I
don’t even know what it feels like. Go on.”

“Well, it did go on. I got up once and went to the bathroom and noticed in the mirror that I didn’t have a stitch on and couldn’t remember having undressed. Didn’t seem to matter. I went back to bed, and found that I was feeling lonely; the party seemed to have stopped.

“Only it hadn’t. A man came in and I managed to focus my eyes and said, ‘Oh, Ted! Come here’. And he did and we did, and it was worse than ever.

“I woke up about noon with a dreadful hangover. Managed to sit up and here were my clothes, neatly folded on a chair, and on the bedside table a tray with a thermos of coffee and some Danish pastry and a glass with a note by it. It read: ‘Drink this before you eat. You’ll need it. Chubby.’ Chubby was the one who was almost bald.”

“A gentleman. Aside from his taste for mass rape.”

“Chubby was always nice. But if anybody had told me that I would ever be in bed with Chubby, I would have laughed in her face.”

“Were you ever again?”

“Oh, yes. I really did appreciate the thoughtful little breakfast and especially the hangover cure. It put me back together. Not good enough to go on watch but good enough to get dressed and back to my room.”

“Were you all right? I mean, uh, not caught or anything?”

“Not even sore. Not anything. Wasn’t my time, even if I hadn’t been protected with an implant, which I was. And one nice thing about going to bed with interns, almost no chance of picking up an infection. No, I was lucky all the way, Joan. Oh, no doubt the story went the rounds—but I wasn’t the only graduate getting it that night, and that wasn’t the only party. Nobody teased me about it. But it was a gang bang, and I didn’t make the slightest move to stop it.” She added thoughtfully, “The thing that worries me is that I might do it again. I know I would. So I don’t drink at all anymore. I know I can’t handle it.”

“Why, Winnie, you’ve had a drink with me, more than once.”

“That’s not the same thing. Uh, if you wanted me to get drunk with
you
—I would. I’d be safe.” (Safe? Little does she know.) (Eunice, we haven’t done more than snuggle and you know it.) (She’s asking you to step up the pace.) (Well, I won’t! Not much, anyhow.)

“Winnie! Winnie dear! Look at the time.”

“Uh? Oh, my heavens! Ten minutes after midnight. I—” The little redhead seemed about to cry.

“Are you late? He’ll wait. Oh. I’m sure he will—for Winnie.”

“Not late yet. He’s off duty at midnight and it takes a while to get here. But—Oh, dear, I don’t want to leave you. Not when we were—I was, anyhow—so happy.”

“Me, too, darling,” Joan agreed, gently untangling herself from Winifred’s arms. “But big sister is always here. Don’t keep your man waiting. Check your lipstick and hair and such in my bath if there is any chance that he may already be in your room.”

“Well. All right. Miss Joan, you’re good to me.”

“Don’t you dare call me ‘Miss’ at a time like this or swelp me, I’ll make you miss your date. Rush, rush, hon; go get beautiful. Kiss me good-night; I’ll be asleep before you are out of the bath. And, Winsome—no exercises tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Smile, I didn’t break your dolly. I want to sleep late and I want
you
to sleep late so that I won’t wake up from knowing you are fidgeting. You’ll get all the classic postures you need in bed tonight. Stop blushing. Give him something special from me, only don’t tell trim. Or do, I don’t give a darn. Kiss me quick and let me go to sleep.”

Her maid-chum-nurse kissed her not too quickly and left hurriedly. Joan Eunice pretended to be asleep when Winifred walked silently from the bath through the room, on into her own room, and the door sealed behind her.

(Well, twin, you lucked through again, didn’t you?) (Eunice, I’ve told you time and again that I am
not
going to stroll Gay Street while I’m a virgin. Might be habit-forming.) (Could be, with our cuddly little pet who enjoys a gang bang. But I didn’t mean
her
. I meant at Safe Harbor.)