Wolf! Stay Away.. -Chapter 10 -

CHAPTER 10

So it was that night in Edie's apartment that we shared our hearts through our lips, and the music played, and a kind of mellow contentment arouse in both of us. We sat in silence each lost in the aftermath of each kiss, until eventually the embraces grew more sporadic, because out energy began to exhaust itself and left us nervously satisfied just to be in each other's arms.

Then after a time, Edie cuddled up in my arms and fell asleep. Never was there a man who lived who held more woman in his arms than I did that night. I was like a person who had no mast and wanted no future; I wished only to own forever those pleasant moments of finally belonging to somebody and knowing that it was real and good and lasting.

But the age of mechanical limitations caught up with me in an hour or so. The record player suddenly went, "Blip! Blat! Eeek! Blip! Blat! Eeek!" Edie stirred and moaned and said, "Uuuh, oh!" The she shot out of my arms and ran across the room to administer to the needs of the phonograph.

"My gosh, Hank," she said, after she had flipped the switch on the music box, "I didn't mean to fall asleep. Why didn't you stop me? Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't bother me none. I was kind'a feeling pretty good about sitting there with you in my arms. I liked it."

"Oh, you!" she said, and came over and kissed me. Then she sat back down on the couch with a heavy sigh. She rubbed her face and said, "Gosh, I'm still sleepy. I guess I'm being selfish, too. I don't want to let you go for a minute. I'll tell you what, Hank. Why don't you stay here tonight, and then we can get an early start on that picnic tomorrow."

Either my eyebrows registered tilt-the-sex-ball, or my mouth suddenly begged open with shock and surprise.

Edie laughed and said, "I don't mean that way, either."

"Oh!" I said.

She laughed again. "I meant that you can use my roommate's bed. She's gone for the weekend, and I know she won't mind."

"Well," I said and faltered.

"Oh, come on," Edie chided. "Don't be so stuffy. Besides, that will give me a chance to fix breakfast for you and show you what a good cook I am."

"Why be so anxious about that."

"You'll find our later, Mr. Smith."

"All right, Miss Jones, I'll stay. But I won't be responsible for what happens. You see, I've kind'a got this wolf that chases me around. When he howls, I do strange things."

"I won't worry. I've got a very strong lock on my door. It's designed to stop big, bad wolfs."

So it was that I crawled between some fragrantly scented sheets some few moments later and soon got my dreams all mixed up, because they just didn't smell like Edie's brand of perfume -- the sheets, I mean -- and fell partially asleep.

But it wasn't for long, because I awaked suddenly to hear a rustling sound going on over in one corner...you know, that kind of starchy scratch in the darkness that a woman makes removing a nylon slip. Being in a strange place, it took me a few seconds to collect my thoughts. This was followed quickly by the flash of an image, a naked woman's body had been suddenly outlined against the window. I was suddenly wide awake.

"Why, that little minx," I thought. "She's going to sneak unto bed with me, after all."

I just lay there and feigned sleep. I figured it was her ball, so I'd just go along for the dance. And believe me I was ready to dance, even if the band played a foxtrot.

Swish! went the covers, and I could feel the warmth of her body come under the covers. I yawned out loud, rolled over and put my arm around her. Her breasts were huge and soft.

The scream the next instant was worse then a female wolf calling her lover. I just about had a heart attack. The commotion was just as bad. Wrong woman! I knew it. Edie's girlfriend had had a short weekend.

She ran out of the room. I put my wood leg on and jerked my pants on all in about twenty-eight seconds. The rest of my stuff, I bundled up under my arm. I had the window open and had just about started out, when Edie caught me.

"Hank! What are you doing?" You stop right now."

"Aw, Edie, I sure do get in the darndest messes."

"Why are you trying to get out the window?"

"I don't know. The proper thing to do, I guess."

"Silly."

"Yeah, I guess. But, heck, it's embarrassing to have to face the police after what I just did."

"Police? There won't be any police here. There is just Juliet, you, and me. She is as calm as everything now that I explained who it was in her bed."

"She is?"

"Sure, she is. Now you come on out and meet her properly."

"I can't."

"Sure you can."

"Not after what I did to her."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Edie, I wasn't asleep. I thought it was you getting in bed with me. I mean...aw, heck...I rolled over and ...and--"

"And --?"

"Aw, nothing."

Edie smiled, threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me. "Put your shirt on and come on out. I want Juliet to meet you, anyway."

Reluctantly, I put my shirt on and braced my shoulders and went out to meet Edie's girlfriend. I sure felt ashamed of myself.

"Juliet, I'd like you to meet the man in your bedroom," Edie said. "Hank...Juliet."

"Glad to meet you, Madam."

"Whooeee!" Juliet said, not really speaking to me. "Gosh, Edie, you didn't tell me he was so handsome. If I'd a known that, I would of kept my mouth shut and stayed in bed. Did you know he had gentle hands?"

"Yes," Edie said. "And a gentle heart, too."

I think Edie realized how embarrassed I was. "Would you like a cup of coffee, Hank? Juliet put some on a minute ago."

I shrugged and shook my head yes."

"Boy, Hank, you sure scared me," Juliet said, not acting the least bit scared, after we had all sat down at the kitchen table. "I just never thought of Edie having a guest in. She never has before."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," I said. I was growling a little bit and knew it, but I couldn't help it. I just didn't like Juliet.

"Oh, it wasn't all your fault," she winked, and I had an instant image of a cow, giddy as hell in a patch of wild garlic. "Next time, I'll look first, and if it's you, I'll just play like you're Romeo and will have a scene."

I knew she was being flippant in front of Edie, but she wasn't kidding either.

"Pay no attention to her, Hank," Eddie said. "She's trying to put you on. Besides, she knows I'd shoot her if she ever got in bed with you."

Juliet poured the coffee then, and we began to drink it. The girls chatted, and I sat there feeling like a salesman peddling vacuum cleaners...outtalked and useless.

Then finally, Juliet said, "Well, I don't know about you kids, but I'm sleepy. Which bed do I use, the one with Hank or yours, Edie?"

"Do you have to ask?" Edie said, cuttingly.

"Aw, Why don't I just call a cab and go on back to my hotel. That'd be the best for everybody."

"It wouldn't hurt," Juliet said. "I'm just too much of a bed hog to sleep with someone else."

"Oh, no -- " Edie said,

"Sure," I said. "No sense in everybody not getting their proper rest on my account."

"Oh, Hank, please don't," Edie begged.

"Well, you kids argue it out. If you decide to stay, just wake me up and I'll crawl in with Edie," Juliet said with a smug swagger.

That fixed it for me. I called a cab, much to Edie's protest. She kissed me several times, and I could tell that she was hurt. But I just had a feeling that I'd better just make myself scarce for a while. I promised her I'd call the first thing the next day.

The cab came, and I went on back to the fleabag. It had been some night. I noticed on the way back that the moon was full. That explained everything to me. That's when the wolf howls the loudest. I decided that I had ought to check the calendar more.

------

I was late getting up the next day. But I had my optimism going real good, right off. I figured I'd really surprise Edie by just showing up at her place unannounced. Besides, I had forgotten to jot down her telephone number. Anyway, I was wrong about surprising her, because she had the chicken fired and the picnic basket all packed by the time I got there.

She pulled me right into the apartment and sat me down at the table again. "I told you last night that I was going to fix breakfast for you, Hank. Now, what would you like?"

I was feeling my oats. "Breakfast at noon? Hamburgers and hominy grits and a great big kiss."

She came and sat down on my lap and kissed me. "Be serious," she said.

"I am serious. I could go on kissing you forever."

"I mean about breakfast."

"Why don't you just surprise me?"

She kissed me again and got up. "All right, smarty, I will."

I watched her as she worked. I guess you've heard about how some women apparently glide around a kitchen and, with an almost effortless flourish, casually throw a beautiful banquet together. Well, Edie wasn't like that. She was all elbows and hands and rattled and banged the pots and pans worse than a thrashing machine running at full tilt behind a blacksmith's shop. But when she was through twisting her little butt between the sink, the cabinets and stove, she really did put something in front of you.

I hadn't realized that I was hungry, until she set the eggs and toast and ham and a special sauce down in front of me. I caught the scent of it all, picked up a fork and was all set to dive in.

"Just a minute, Hank," she said, and then bowed her head and said a short blessing to the Lord.

It made me feel pretty self-conscious for a minute or two, because I hadn't done anything like that for a dang, long time. I mean being around praying people.

When she was done, she smiled across the table and said, "It'll make the food taste that much better."

I guess it did, because I gobbled mine all down before she had hardly started hers. You should have seen the twinkle in her eyes as she smiled then. Edie wasn't one to beg for compliments, but she sure knew when she had done something to be proud of. It was always her eyes that gave her away.

But, heck, everything she ever did showed in her eyes. Maybe it was because they were such a deep blue and her hair such a dark brown, who knows? Edie was a person of very deep character. I guess the best way to put it is that she had had such a tough childhood, that she emerged that much more pure and refined.

"What do you see that makes you so solemn?" she asked impishly a little later, as she caught me staring at her.

"You."

"That makes you solemn?"

"No. Not exactly."

"What does then?"

"I don't know. Maybe it isn't solemnity that I'm feeling. Maybe it's just plain wonderment."

"Wonderment? Solemnity? Sadness? What difference does it make when your face carries a terrible expression like you had a moment ago?"

"I'm not sad, either. At least, I don't think I am. Mixed up and in love maybe, but not sad."

"Serious, then"

"All right, serious. That's not wrong, is it?"

"Certainly not. But you worry too much about being wrong, Hank."

"No, I don't."

"Sure you do. Take last night for example. You thought I'd --"

"Not that again, I don't -- "

"-- that I'd be angry about Juliet getting in bed with you."

"Yes, I though so. Most girls would be, wouldn't they? Most men, too."

"Over something that was an accident? A misunderstanding?"

"It wasn't an accident. I mean, what I did to her. I guess she told you."

"Yes, she told me. But it still doesn't matter. Your intent and reason for doing as you did was not an evil thing."

"Why did she holler so loud and jump out our bed, if it wasn't and evil thing?"

"I meant that you didn't know it was her. Therefore, you were doing a perfectly natural thing, because you thought it was me. That's why you weren't wrong and shouldn't worry about it."

"You mean, if it had been you, you wouldn't have screamed?"

"No, because I wouldn't have been there in the first place. I'm not the sort of woman who goes sneaking into bedrooms in the dark. It just wouldn't have happened to me. If that kind of thing ever occurs between us, it will be a natural and wonderful experience. If I can't give myself to you honestly, I won't give myself at all."

That was Edie, always candid, sometimes so much so it was downright face-reddening. I looked away and said, "Okay, I won't worry about being wrong anymore, even if I am."

"Oh, Hank, you're hopeless. Why don't you go put some music on while I wash the dishes? Then we'll get going on the picnic."

"I'll dry for you."

"Oh, no you won't. I don't like men puttering around with my dishes. A man doesn't belong behind a dish towel."

"I did it in the army."

"That's different. Go put on some music."

------

After the dishes were done, we drove out into the country in Edie's car. I say drove when I really mean flew. Gentle, tiny Edie had this thing about driving. When she was behind a steering wheel, She was like a demon. I didn't say much more than two words the whole way out there, because I was too scared. But I sure gave her a sermon when we wheeled up to the woods in a cloud of dust.

She just laughed and said, "Don't be so inhibited. This is a fun day."

We walked deep into the woods and sat our stuff down by an old creek. We tossed rocks for a while. Then she found some wild violets and we picked a bunch of them for the picnic spread. Then she made me build a small fire, which I thought was kind of silly, because we were both perspiring. But she insisted, because she liked the smell of the smoke.

And later we ate the chicken and other goodies. Then we spread a blanket and lay down on our backs and watched the sunlight trickle through the bright young leaves.

"What sort of work do you do, Hank?" She asked after awhile.

"Not much of anything, right now. Before the war, I guess you'd call me an odd-jobber. During the war, I was a cook. Since I was discharged, I guess you'd have to call me a crap shooter."

"A what?"

"Crap shooter."

"Huh?"

"You know...dice?"

"Oh, You mean you're a gambler?"

"No, just a crapshooter. I never played cards or roulette or any of that other stuff."

"Same difference."

Then I told her how it wasn't and how it had all started with big Barney. And from there back, I guess I just unfolded my whole life story...even the part about the wolf always chasing me. She said I was just rationalizing a superstition, and I argued that it was deeper than that; and she went on to convince me for a while that I was pretty sticky about the wolf for being a professional optimist.

Then she told me about how she had grown up in St. Patrick's Orphanage, and how, although she didn't resent not having a regular home life, orphanages were the greatest tragedy that a society ever owned. And she insisted that a child of hers would never grow up in an institution, even if she had to carry slop buckets to prevent it.

Then twilight came and, with it, the chill of early spring air, and we had to pack our things and leave. But we went back there often, Edie and I, to that spot where we all but claimed squatter's rights, where nobody could invade our thoughts, and we were always alone and together.

Even after Alice and Harry and Laurie were born, we went back there, until the city grew too big for its boundaries and reached out with suburbia and ate up the woods and that place in the country like it had never even been there. I still think of it often.