It was dusk in the valley. Shades of lavender settled in the cottonwoods while the mountaintops flamed. As David and Kate drove down the mountain, Troy and Charlene headed up. Along the curves of the road, they watched the sun’s reflection over the cliffs and crags.
“Beautiful,” Troy mused. He was drawn to the high peaks and far vistas. He was also pleased with his success. The past few days had netted several thousand dollars, tax-free, and fully insured by the FDIC.
“You happy, baby?” Charlene asked.
Troy’s teeth gleamed in the rays of sun.
“E.R.?” Charlene burrowed into his ribs.
“Yes, baby.”
“Don’t you think it’s time we get to know each other better?” Her smokey voice still aroused him.
“Sure, baby,” he whispered. “It’s our time now.”
So far, Troy had only slept in Charlene’s bed and eaten her simple meals. He had had a lot on his mind with business and until his mind was clear, he wasn’t good for anything else.
Charlene hadn’t complained. During the day, she was at her cousin’s house. At night, she was tired too. She was grateful for the company. It was the first semblance of a boyfriend in a couple of years.
Up the highway past Zamora was an unmarked fire road into the Pecos National Forest. When he stayed at Kate’s, Troy sometimes walked the road. Once he went with a neighbor’s wagon and mule to haul firewood. Like the estovers in ancient law, fallen wood was available for anyone to haul away.
Troy followed the lane past the groves of aspen, scrub juniper, pine. He skirted a large depression where an underground spring spilled into a pool of watercress. The light deepened to iridescent purple as hundreds of bats dove and darted like arrows across the soggy meadow.
Charlene used her Swiss Army knife to break the seal of a California champagne. She lit a votive candle and placed it on the dashboard of the car.
“I’m feeling no pain,” she sighed, throwing her breasts into Troy’s face.
“No pain, no gain,” he chortled. “Daddy instilled that in us.”
“I’m glad he wasn’t my daddy,” Charlene said.
“Me too,” Troy hugged her. “They arrest people for that. Anyway I already got one sister.”
“How is she?” Charlene had heard lots of stories about E.R.’s sister, Kate. Her first husband had been killed in the Gulf War.
“It’s her husband,” Troy said. “They got bad news today.”
“I’m sorry.” Charlene put her hand protectively over his. She was empathetic to a fault.
“Brain tumor,” he said soberly, thinking how harmless it was. The words were only stories and would soon disappear.
“Isn’t he a brain surgeon?” Charlene’s face crumpled.
“They say it’s usually your work that kills you.”
“Two husbands dead, that’s sad.”
“I may have to go out and take care of things.” He squeezed Charlene’s fingertips and brought them to his lips.
“I knew you were gonna say that.”
“Do for them what you do for your cousin here.” His fingers ran up and down Charlene’s neck and skipped playfully across her breasts. “But not too soon, not until we get to know each other better.”
They laughed, relaxed and warmed by the wine. The candlelight was golden. Outside, a star fell across the deep moonlit blue.
Charlene rummaged in the backseat for a blanket. She sprang out of the car and beckoned him to follow. They wandered to a flat sunken spot on the perimeter of the meadow. Troy brushed away the small rocks and spread the cover on the ground, setting his boots and a second bottle of champagne at the corners.
“Intoxicating,” he said, smelling the crushed sage.
Charlene dropped to her knees. He stood, contemplating the dark roots of her hair in the moonlight and a bald spot at the crown.
“How is it you like to make a man happy?” he whispered.
“Different ways,” she said, touching the bulge in his jeans.
“How about one way? Then another?” He was feeling saucy.
“You mean a nibble?” Charlene asked, easing him out of his pants.
She spread her lips on the tip of his penis. She circled the tip with her tongue. She took him through her mouth behind her teeth into her throat where her tongue undulated like a harem dancer’s belly.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” He moaned until he exploded and collapsed on the blanket beside her. For several minutes he lay panting, genuinely awed.
“You do know something, baby,” he finally said.
“I know how he wants it,” she said, pressing Troy’s hand inside her blouse, rubbing his fingers around her nipples, directing his hand down her belly until it reached the tufts of her coarse pubic hair.
In one motion, he yanked off her clothes. But as he readied himself to pounce, he paused. In the glassy light of the moon he scanned the scarred body beneath him. Its anatomy slightly misplaced.
Charlene saw a question and answer pass between his eyes.
“What are you?” he seethed.
“Baby,” she crooned, scuttling backwards across the blanket. “It’s me, Charlene. It’s only me.”
“Fucking freak,” he croaked and leapt toward her.
He seized her elbow and swung, planting a brick-hard jab into the bridge of her nose and breaking it. Then, dragging her by her bleached hair to the edge of the watercress pool, with both hands around her neck, he pushed her head below the water and counted to one hundred.