by William Ruud
So I told you where I'd meet you for lunch. I even thought of someone to fix up your friend with, so she wouldn't be a third wheel.
But I was the one out. I didn't understand why you even called; you already had somebody to talk to and do things with. I was disappointed, but I tried to make the best of it. I even tried to entertain you both and be a good host. We got a bottle of wine and borrowed a canoe from this guy I know and paddled around, drinking and smoking a joint. I don't know why, but it hit me the river would be a good place to hide a body.
During lunch and paddling around, I had no idea what a monster you really were. Right then, that afternoon, I was kind of neutral about things, confused and uneasy but not showing it, just trying to be pleasant.
So you and he were having fun, and wanted to stay over. When you visited before, you'd stayed with me. I'd offered to sleep on the couch, but you let me sleep with you. That should have tipped me off. You weren't letting me because you liked me; I was just there. You have this problem, you see. But I didn't know that then. So I thought, okay, I can be big about it, you having a new boyfriend. I said the two of you could stay. Big mistake.
That night was my poker night, but I didn't think they'd mind if I brought you along. It was my turn to buy the food and beer, so we went shopping. I got some brats and potato salad and two cases. Your boyfriend bought some Seven Crown and 7-Up. I started wondering about him, after he lit another joint. I didn't smoke any more, but you did. It made you louder and livelier. You opened the Seven Crown and drank straight from the bottle.
The poker game was at my friend's house, the one with the canoe. We parked at my house next to your camper-van and carried the stuff over. My friend was home now and got the grill going. We put the beer in an old laundry tub and iced it down. You and your boyfriend had another joint and some 7-and-7's, and by the time the poker players started arriving, the party was going good.
The poker players were pretty rowdy anyway. Everybody was in a good mood, laughing and joking and playing cards. Everybody but me. I still felt funny, kind of subdued, because I couldn't be myself around you. But then your boyfriend left. He didn't play cards, so he lost interest and wandered away. Then I started to relax and have fun too.
You didn't know how to play, so I got to explain everything. We had this rule, the kibitz rule, where you have to pay a quarter fine for giving advice. But once when I was out and you had a winner but didn't know it I paid the fine three rounds in a row to tell you to bet and raise the limit. You were real happy when you won and gave me a big kiss. I liked that, except for everybody watching.
You made quite an impression on my friends. You looked real pretty, of course; anybody could see that. But you were funny and lively and unpredictable, too. Like last time, when we went bar-hopping. You dove on top of that evergreen hedge, knowing you could land on it and not get hurt. I could never do anything wild like that.
At the game, everybody drank a lot and smoked joints. We were all getting pretty trashed. You especially. You started saying dirty things. I didn't like that. You made a bet on a cut of the cards, where you'd get a dollar if you won and do a sex thing if you lost. I was shocked. I had no idea your mind was that filthy. I thought you were a nice girl. You won the bet, but I was mad at you just the same.
My friends weren't used to someone like you. They were embarrassed, though they wouldn't admit it, and the game fell apart. But by the time I'd cashed everybody out and put away the poker chips, everybody had disappeared, including you. But then you came back. And then I didn't care about anybody else; I had you.
You were real affectionate, hugging and kind of slow-dancing with me in the shadows. I still felt strange because of your boyfriend, and I asked where he was. You said not to worry; he's met this other girl and was just fine. So I let myself think maybe I had a chance with you. I shouldn't have. But I was so happy kissing and hugging you and holding hands walking back to my house that I couldn't help it.
I put on some music and we started dancing for real, but the doorbell rang. It was my friend the poker game host and his neighbor. I could tell they came for ÃÃyouÄÄ, to hang around ÃÃyouÄÄ. They were like a bunch of male dogs crazy over a bitch in heat, following her around, hoping for a crack at her. But I was crazy for you, too. And it was my house. I made them go away.
But then your boyfriend was back. He caught us dancing and kissing. I started to apologize, but he said it was all right, he was partying with this other girl. He said she was only fifteen but she had a real good head on her shoulders. I didn't like that, a fifteen-year-old drinking and smoking joints, but I was too intoxicated with you to care. Anyway, they were out in the camper. The front door was open so they could use the bathroom, but as long as they mostly stayed out there, it was okay.
About the time he came back, the cocaine came out. All of a sudden, there it was, and plenty of it. We did some, dancing and drinking, and then you took your clothes off. You took my clothes off, too, and we started making love.
It was unreal. We had all this energy and kept up an incredible pace, time after time, hour after hour. Every now and then you left to get more cocaine from him. We alternating sniffing it with making love on the floor, the furniture, standing up, sitting down, every way there was. Sometimes we even sniffed it ÃÃwhileÄÄ we were doing it, and once you had me sniff it out of your navel. The time flew by, but we never got tired.
At least you didn't. Not long before dawn, I moved us into the bedroom, hoping you'd slow down. We romped some more, then I said I wanted to try to sleep. You said fine and started to go. I asked you to stay but you wouldn't. That was cruel of you, and cold. All I wanted was a little tenderness but you didn't even notice. You left and closed the door.
I did sleep then; I don't know for how long. You woke me, not saying a word, and climbed on me for a gentle act of love. I didn't know how I could ever think you cruel. You were sensitive and caring then, and the doubts I had about you, about how you felt about me, melted away. I wanted to be the last man you'd ever need.
I wanted to linger in bed, not doing it, just reading the paper or watching T.V. in each other's arms. You wouldn't, though. You were up and around, your naked body lovely and innocent. They say atoms vibrate constantly and don't stop except at absolute zero. That was how you were, bouncing around and impossible to slow down.
Things took an ugly turn. You were to blame, your insatiable drive to keep the party going. You brought him and the girl into my room and sat them down on the bed, everybody buck naked. I was horrified. What did you have in mind? An orgy? Even if everyone else wanted to, I didn't. The relentless drugs and sex, one on one, was scary enough.
I whispered frantically to you to get them out. You thought it was funny. You and he made a game out of calling me a made-up name so the girl wouldn't know my real name. You knew I was worried. Even if ÃÃIÄÄ didn't touch her, or give her drugs or booze, it was still my house. I could probably go to jail. But I hadn't asked for it to happen.
You finally did make them leave, after I was good and upset. I went and took a shower and dressed. I had to get out of that madhouse. Yes, I'd contributed, maybe even egged it on a little out of loneliness and wanting to be close to you. But things were out of control and I was afraid. I left.
I tried to do some work, but it wasn't any good. The numbers kept jumping around on the page and I couldn't get them to stand still. And I couldn't keep my mind on it, for worrying about what was happening back home. I convinced myself I was getting sick. My throat hurt, from swallowing so much because of the cocaine, and I had a headache. I gave up and went home.
You nailed me at the door with a big kiss, still wired and jumpy. You wore my big shirt with nothing under it. There were doughnuts and fruit juice, and I asked who'd gone out. You said no one; one of the guys from last night brought it. But he wasn't around so I didn't think any more about it.
I sat down on the couch to mope and you jumped on my lap. But I wasn't ready for more. I wanted to go take a nap and wake up to find all the bad parts were just nightmares. But ÃÃheÄÄ was in my room with the girl, door closed. How dare he be in there. I didn't say anything, but inside I was furious.
You became concerned when I said I was sick, though. You told me the guy who'd come over, my friend's neighbor, was taking off work and would be at home. You said you could all go there. I said that might be a good idea. I just wanted some peace and quiet.
You did it, too. You bustled around and got him and the girl out to the camper and drove away. I ripped off the sheets and threw on new ones then crawled in. The thing was, I didn't want ÃÃyouÄÄ to go, only them. I ended up alone, like always. But it was worse than always, because I'd been so close to you. I'd opened up, which isn't easy for me, but it didn't mean anything to you. Not a thing.
I didn't sleep well, but I must have slept some. It was afternoon when I woke. I wasn't sick after all. I didn't feel great, but I felt better. My friend called, saying there were enough leftovers for another cookout. I asked about you and he said you were at the neighbor's, sleeping and recovering from your seizure. Alarmed, I asked what seizure. He said the one you had in my shower with the neighbor guy. That bothered me, too.
I hadn't known you were ill. I'd kicked you out, and foisted you off to a stranger, just to get my bed back for a nap I didn't really need. Whatever had happened, you'd been my guest. Him, too. I'd been selfish and inconsiderate, and I felt terrible about it.
Over at my friend's I saw something startling. In the camper, I saw bare legs thrashing in the air, like a bug on its back. Two people were coupling. Not long after, the neighbor guy came out and went in his house. Then the girl followed. I thought, what a little slut, for only fifteen. I'm ashamed to admit it, but for a second I regretted passing up my chance at her. But I'm not like that. I'm really not.
My friend and I made dinner, talking and drinking beer. At one point, your boyfriend came over, all friendly-like. I'd been mad at him, but I'd been just as inconsiderate as he had. He walked over to my house with me to get some paper plates.
He was talkative. He told me how he'd met the girl last night walking around. She'd said she liked to party so he'd invited her along. He laughed, remembering that the girl told him her older sister was a bigger whore than she was, so he'd wanted to meet the sister. But she'd gotten married.
I guess his mind was running dirty because he said something disturbing about you. Out of the blue he said you'd taken on three guys one time, and he wasn't even one of them. I didn't say anything, and he went on to something else. But I realized I didn't know you very well. Not well enough to fall for you as hard as I had.
You never came to dinner. He made a plate for you and took it over. We sat around drinking beer, me and him and my friend and the neighbor, not really having a party, just talking. And not about sex or drugs, the things that filled my mind. It had been an incredible night, and I was thinking it though, over and over.
But you'd probably never think of it again. I guess you have nights like that all the time, and even wilder. No reason a night with me should mean anything. But I guarantee you'll remember me. I'll be the last thing you see while I'm strangling the life out of you.
You've asked for it, you know. You can't go around doing what you did and expect to get away with it. In a way, it's like putting you out of your misery, an act of pity. You probably don't even think anything's wrong with you. There is. Bad wrong.
I didn't even know the worst right then. I went to the neighbor's house like nothing was wrong to see how you were, after the seizure and all. You lay on the couch with him, not doing anything in particular. You were glad to see me but you embarrassed me, like you do so well. You tried to pull me down on top of you with everybody watching. There wasn't any room and besides, some things are supposed to be private.
The girl was there, cuddling with the neighbor like boyfriend and girlfriend. I guess they were, since they'd been together in the camper. But that meant she wasn't with ÃÃyourÄÄ boyfriend any more, so you and he were back together. And that meant you weren't with me. But I guess I knew that already.
My head was spinning with all the partner-swapping. I whispered I'd leave my door unlocked if you wanted to come over. You said you were fine there, and you and he were leaving early tomorrow. You said you'd call before you left. I asked you to come by, trying not to beg. I suppose I wanted to be awakened like before, tender and loving-like. But I kind of knew it wouldn't ever be like that again. I said good night and left.
At seven the next morning, the phone rang. I didn't answer. I thought that might make you come by. I even made sure the door was open, then got back in bed and waited. And waited and waited. You never came, of course. You didn't need to say good-bye to me. You didn't need me at all, for anything.
The next few days, I tried to sort out how I felt about you, and how you felt about me. I didn't come to any conclusions, except that I missed you. I went back over it all, enjoying some parts, queasy about others. I tried to think how I could have made you like me more, or not be so wild. But you can't change people's nature, like you can't change a leopard's spots. You can only trap them and destroy them when they get out of hand.
I was going through the everyday motions, but I was different. I'd stay up late writing you letters I didn't mail, or poems about the color of your hair or the touch of your skin. It was like I had to get you out of my system, like exorcism. And then I heard the thing that made me decide.
Some nights later I was at my friend's, having a couple of beers out in the breezeway. The neighbor came over. He sat down, popped a beer, and said he ought to thank me. I asked what he meant. He said, well, you and he were my friends, right? So the two of you came here because of me. He brought the drugs and picked up the girl, who was such a hot one. So he was thanking me for kind of being responsible for it all.
I didn't follow and said so. He said, well, it's not every day you have two different girls, one right after the other. I didn't want to know, but I had to.
I asked him did he mean you too. He laughed and said he sure did. He'd been kissing the girl and feeling her up, and one thing led to another right there on the floor with you and him watching.
I just sat there quiet, waiting for him to go on, riveted but horrified, too. He said the girl left then, and he walked her out. When he got back, there you were, naked, right where the girl had been, wanting it too. He said you were as good as he knew you'd be, from the shower that morning. You'd had the seizure and hadn't finished what you'd started, but there on the floor you sure as hell did.
He got up and actually had his hand out to shake, saying, so he wanted to thank me. A hot red wave of anger and shame crashed over me. I stood, but instead of shaking his hand I smashed my fist into his neck and called him a liar. He got mad and fought back. My friend tried to separate us but I wouldn't stop, tears and blood pouring down my face. Then I was too dazed and tired to swing any more.
He said I was crazy and walked away. My friend cleaned me up and helped me home. He said I was crazy, too. Maybe I am. I mean, I know I am, because of what I thought of next.
I decided you should die. It was just a passing thought at first, trying to fix the blame for the way I felt. But the notion gnawed away at me like a little mouse. It grew bigger and bigger, until I finally knew. I had to make you come back and kill you.
Getting you here was easier than I thought. I didn't know where you and he lived but I had your mother's phone number. I drove to a truck stop so there wouldn't be any phone records, and I used a fake name. I said I met you somewhere and you gave me a business card. Your mother believed me and told me your new number. That was good; if I could trick her, I could trick you, too.
I had to think of a way to get you here without making you suspicious. I decided to appeal to your baser instincts, now that I knew you had them. I'd say some friends wanted to party with you. I'd say they'd buy your plane ticket, first class, and give you some money to come for a weekend. That way, you'd think I approved of the twisted way your mind worked. And it would be kind of a test. If you fell for it, I'd know you were greedy and sick and repulsive. If you didn't, then you could live.
I got up my nerve, went to the truck stop, and called. You sounded glad to hear from but I had an odd feeling you didn't remember who I was. I suppose all the names and faces and bodies become a blur. That made me mad enough to do what I had to do.
It worked. You said it sounded like fun and told me where to sent the ticket and half the money. I guess it didn't matter who I was as long as I paid in advance. We decided you'd come in two weeks, and you'd use a made-up name on the airline, and you wouldn't tell him. You liked that part, the intrigue and the deceit. You would.
The last two weeks have been frantic. It took all my money to buy the ticket so I had to borrow the rest on my Visa. Then I couldn't send a check or money order because it'd have to have your name on it. I finally mailed the money in fifty-dollar bills. I have a room ready, all sealed and padded in case you make any noise. And I took another canoe ride and chose a spot for your body, downriver in a little backwater.
Everything's ready. Including me. I've thought it through, again and again. I can't let myself go soft or change my mind if you're nice or if you look great. You will. That's part of why you're such a monster. Such a sweet, pretty girl on the surface, but such a filthy, nasty thing inside. You have to kill the one to get the other.
I find a spot in the short-term lot. It was easy, easier than I thought, to rent a car with fake I.D. I'm wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap and some clothes I never wear to throw away later. But mostly I'm ready inside, ready to act glad to see you and put you at ease. Until I get you home. And I'm ready for what I have to do then.
Here come the people from the plane, businessmen and families on vacation. And here you come. Oh my. You're even prettier than I remember. I don't know if I can do it, go through with my plan. It would be like wantonly crushing a flower. Maybe I could just take you away from it, that awful life you lead.
But wait; you're not alone. Two guys are hanging all over you, laughing and joking. You probably can't even go to the store without picking guys up.
I feel a tear welling up, but I refuse to let it. Then the anger starts, and I grind my teeth so hard they pop. No reprieve. You have to die.
I can't seem angry or it won't look right. I wave. You don't recognize me in the cap and glasses. But then you do, I think. You say good-bye to the two guys.
Right before you get here, you smile. You look so lovely, all tan and slim. Anybody'd be proud to be with you. I see the two guys watching, jealous. Well, they can't have you. I have you now, and I'm the last one. The very last one.
NMM
(This is the first story published by Mr Ruud. It is with great pleasure that we introduce this new original voice to you. Eds.)
New Mystery Magazine
Appeared in I#1 NMM.