Authors: James Henderson,Larry Rains
Laughing, she climbed the chain-link fence. At the top, she gave the area a good look…only the Mercedes in the parking lot. Pitch dark all around. Crickets chirping, frogs croaking, an owl hooting.
Lester crossed to the fence and stared at her.
“Are you coming?” she asked, and jumped to the ground.
Lester caught hold of the five-foot fence and made a halfhearted effort to climb up.
“I-I-I can’t do it!”
“Yes, you can! Look at this.” Perry palmed her pubis. “It’s yours, Lester. Come get it!”
Lester grabbed the fence and started climbing.
Perry stepped over the knee-high guardrail and then lay spread-eagle on a rock that jutted out of the mountain like an oblong nose. Though elongated, extending almost six feet, the rock was scarcely wide enough to accommodate two people.
Lester cleared the fence and stopped at the guardrail, near the sign that read: NO TRESPASSING BEYOND THIS POINT!
“Lester, come on!”
Lester stepped over the guardrail and stopped again, a few feet short where Perry lay.
“Come on, Lester. Come and get it. Take it like a man!”
Lester fumbled with his fly, zipped it down…and then zipped it back up.
“Come closer! I’ll do it for you.”
Now he had it out; it resembled his expression: flaccid and frightened.
Perry hadn’t factored this in her plans:
Dammit! How can I push him off if he never gets on?
“Come closer, Lester! There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Lester scooted toward her, and she grabbed him and applied manual ministration. Producing no results, she took him in her mouth.
After a few minutes, she stopped and said, “Do you mind helping me here? You’re too damn tense. Loosen up!”
She tried again…and again…without results.
“Fuck this!” Perry said, and rolled backward on her back and kicked him with both feet.
Though no doubt Lester anticipated a ploy, the maneuver was so sudden it caught him off guard. He stumbled sideways…A moment he balanced on his left leg, knee bent, arms flapping…His ankle twisted and he fell, his chest hitting the rock hard…He slid downward, scratching and clawing his fingers into the rock.
He was going over. By sheer providence, his fingers caught hold of a small crevice, halting his descent.
“Perry, help me!” he said, without a stutter. “Help me! Don’t let me die, please!”
Convinced he couldn’t pull himself up and would soon fall, Perry stepped over the guardrail and started climbing the fence.
“Come back! Come back! Come back!” Lester cried.
Perry had one leg over the top when he changed to: “Help! Help! Somebody help me! She’s trying to kill me!”
Perry stopped.
Damn! If he don’t shut up he’s going to alert somebody.
She climbed down.
“Shut up, will you! I’ll help you, just shut up!” She crossed to him and held out her hand. “Take my hand and I’ll pull you up.” She saw ambivalence in his eyes. “Grab my hand!”
“Help!” Lester screamed. “Somebody help me!”
“Shut up, dammit! I said I would help you! Shut up!” She stepped on his fingers with the ball of her foot…Lester held on. “Let go!”
With both hands she tried to pull his stubby fingers free. No go. She scratched them…pinched them…she bit them…Lester held on, screaming, his fingers oozing blood.
“Shut up!” Perry shouted and slapped him, the sound echoing.
Lester gave her the meanest look she’d ever seen, hawked…and spat.
“Haagghh!” Perry gasped, as though she’d been splashed with cold water.
She wiped saliva off her face with her wrist. “Okay, asshole, you wanna play nasty, huh? Just when I was fixin’ to help you up. Really. I sure was…then you spit in my damn face! I can’t believe you did that. I cannot fucking believe you did that!”
She stepped over the guardrail and started searching for something on the ground along the fence.
Lester, hanging on for dear life, had to have known the end was near when he watched her pick something up and start toward him.
As Perry came closer, Lester’s eyes widened…In her arms was a large rock, basketball size; she struggled carrying it. She heaved it over the guardrail and stepped over.
Lester struggled desperately to pull himself up, swinging his legs right and left, scraping his knees bloody against the rock face.
“Try to help a sorry sumbitch,” Perry said, picking up the rock, “and he spits in your damn face! Don’t you know that’s nasty? Very nasty! You should know better!”
Lester’s right sneaker fell off and he gave up the struggle, closed his eyes in prayer.
Perry stood over him and, straining, lifted the rock overhead.
“Why you spit in my face? Huh? Why you do that? Huh? Did I ever spit in your face? No, I sure as hell didn’t! You know why? I’ll tell you why! Because I know better to spit in somebody’s face! Didn’t your mammy teach you that?”
She started down with the rock, and Lester let go, denying her the pleasure.
Perry stood there, long after she’d heard branches snapping and a loud splat, naked, the rock between her feet, hoping against hope that Lester had somehow survived and
somehow work his way up and give her the opportunity to
smash his fucking face
…
And just a few minutes ago, Neal,
whose large head housed a pea brain
, had almost did the same thing.
The same goddamn thing!
The doorbell rang.
“Neal,” she shouted, “get the door!”
“Which one?” Neal shouted back.
“Never mind, I’ll get it!” She went downstairs and opened the door. “Yes.”
“Hello,” Tasha said.
A second Perry froze. “A restraining order doesn’t apply to you, does it?”
Tasha covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She started to leave, stopped. “Derrick wanted to see his father, and I have a doctor’s appointment.”
“In what wacky way is that my worry?”
“I’m an emotional wreck. God!” Tasha slapped her forehead. “Derrick really want to see his father. After my appointment I’ll come get him. Two hours at the most.”
Perry stared at her, head to toe: Tasha’s hair a tangled mess, bags under her eyes, in a sweaty gray sweatshirt. K-Mart loafers.
Perry shook her head.
“Is Neal here?” Tasha asked.
“He’s here,” peering over Tasha’s shoulder. Sure enough, Derrick sat in the car, face pressed against the window. “Wait a minute, I’ll go get him.”
She found Neal lying on the bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling fan, his eyes bloodshot red.
“Your ex and your brat are here. She wants to see you.”
Neal didn’t respond.
“Mister Pothead!” Perry shouted.
Neal looked up at her and smiled. “Dinner ready? I’m starving.”
“Your son is outside waiting for you.”
“Derrick?” sitting up.
“Big head? Looks just like you? Yes, Derrick.”
Neal jumped to his feet. “Derrick, he’s here? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did. You were in outer space. Planet Electricity, remember?”
Neal hurried downstairs. Perry followed. He rushed out the front door, and stopped short upon seeing Tasha.
“Hey, Neal,” Tasha said. “Were you asleep?”
“No. Where’s Derrick?”
“Neal, why are your eyes red?” Perry stepped outside. “Derrick’s in the car.”
Derrick jumped out and ran to Neal. “I miss you, Daddy!” Neal lifted him up, and Derrick said, “I want to stay with you, Daddy.”
Tasha said, “Neal, Derrick wanted to see you. I’ll come back and get him in an hour or two. After my appointment.”
“Tasha, I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“Neal, I don’t have any other option.”
“Are you willing to put this in writing?” Perry said. “We’re due in court tomorrow. You’ve violated a restraining order and dropped your son off here.”
Tasha gave her a measured look. “You know I’m not doing that. I’ll be back to get Derrick as soon as I can.”
“Neal,” Perry said, “why don’t you take your son inside and show him around.”
“Come on, Derrick,” Neal said. “Let me show you the Ponderosa.”
“I need to say good-bye to him,” Tasha said.
Perry watched as Tasha led Derrick to the rear of the Honda Accord, out of view. She couldn’t hear, but sensed that Tasha was giving the boy instructions.
I’ll have to keep an eye on him.
Derrick reappeared carrying a backpack. Tasha, crying now, waved good-bye as Neal led Derrick inside the house.
The two women stood there facing each other, Tasha crying, Perry staring down her nose at her.
Perry said, “I hope you don’t think this sympathy play will change anything when we go to court. Custodial or criminal. Neal and I plan to pursue both vigorously.”