5

Johnny opened the hallway door to the basement and walked down the carpeted stairway slowly and silently. He wanted his entrance to be a dramatic surprise. Ordinarily, whenever his sister had a friend over, he would consciously avoid them. But this time it was different. Mary Warren was here, and from his description of Denise’s close friends, she was the one Mr. Lucy had chosen.

There were good reasons for the choice. Of all his sister’s friends, Mary Warren was the most physically developed and the most precocious. She looked more like a tenth- or eleventh-grader than a seventh-grader, and she had the potential to be a very attractive woman. She was a dark-skinned, five-feet-two inch girl with long, shiny black hair. Although there was a softness in her face reminiscent of preadolescence, the maturing process was easy to see. Her dark brown eyes were lit with a knowing awareness, and for a seventh-grader, she smiled too suggestively at upper grade boys. Also, she had taken to wearing a wet, shiny lipstick that gave her an older, sensuous appearance.

Johnny knew that Mary took after her mother, a tall, full-figured woman who looked like she might have been a beauty contest contestant. Mary’s bosom was probably ninety percent of what it would be. Her waist had narrowed and her thighs and rear had tightened and curved, giving her an attractive figure. Like all the other seventh-graders anxious to be considered grown-up, she wore her jeans too tight and her make-up too heavy.

From listening in on her sister’s conversations and from observing her and her friends here at home and at school, Johnny also knew that Mary was something of a leader in the group. The others usually did whatever she suggested and thought whatever she thought. She knew the most, talked the most, and told the most. Johnny suspected that she had already lost her virginity. He had heard her name mentioned by a few upperclass boys. Hearing all this, Mr. Lucy said she would be perfect for what they had to do.

And so Johnny thought that he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. About a half hour after the girls had gone down to the basement, he decided to attempt the plan. Before he made the turn on the stairs near the bottom of the flight, he heard their laughter. He imagined they were already into one of their “private talks”; he figured the atmosphere was perfect and the timing was ideal.

The Mastersons had a full, finished basement. It was furnished with a soft, velvet eight-piece sectional with two ottoman pieces, end tables, and a vibrating easy chair. Johnny’s father called the room his “Playboy Palace.” There was a thick, soft shag carpet on the floor done in a light, natural lamb’s wool shade, and real plank wood panels on the walls. They had a large-screen projection television set and video deck directly across from the sectional. To the right of that was a brick-faced bar with cushioned stools and a pool table.

But the pièce de résistance was in the left corner: a whirlpool spa had been set on a masonry platform with marble steps. The water in it bubbled and the filter hummed. Its scented water perfumed the air. The scent was enticing, suggestive.

As Johnny reached the bottom steps, he saw that the stereo unit that was built into the bookcase on the rear wall was lit, but the tape in the player-recorder was rewinding. His sister and Mary Warren were seated on the sectional, their knees up and folded as they turned into each other to giggle and talk. He saw they had their homework out on the ottoman pieces. Neither of them heard him or saw him because they were so engrossed in their conversation.

Mary was dressed in a dark blue sweater a size too tight, and a pair of old, faded jeans that strained so hard around her buttocks, they looked like they would tear apart any moment. Her sweater had a V-neck collar, and looking down from the stairs as he descended, he could see that it revealed a nice portion of her cleavage. Both she and his sister had their shoes and socks off. Mary played with the heel of her left foot as she talked.

“Hi,” he said.

They both jumped. Denise turned to him disgustedly, making it obvious that she detested his invasion of their privacy. On the other hand, Mary, as she usually did, smiled warmly, her eyes dancing with interest. Johnny thought there was even a note of challenge in them. She’s a natural tease, he thought.

“What do you want?” Denise asked, her emphasis on “you” as though he were a servant in the house. When she grimaced widely, her braces made her look like a vampire, Johnny thought. “We’re studying for a test.”

“So what?”

She turned to Mary and whispered something and they both laughed. Ordinarily, he would have had a clever, nasty comeback, but he pretended to ignore them instead and went to the bookcase. The two girls worked silently in their notebooks for a while, acting as though he were a teacher who had caught them goofing off. When he turned around, however, Mary was staring at him. He gave her his best, most interested smile. Her eyes widened with surprise and delight. Denise looked up, aware that her friend’s attention was being pulled from her.

“What are you looking for, Johnny?” she asked, her voice still filled with a tone of annoyance.

“I thought we had a book on European history down here, Gunther’s Inside Europe.”

“I never heard of it. We never had a book like that. You’re making it up.”

“Sure we did. You don’t know the titles of all our books, Denise.” He kept his voice from sounding angry or annoyed. He saw that just as Mr. Lucy said, that made her appear more childish and impressed Mary. It encouraged him. It was as though Mr. Lucy was right in this room with him.

“I know more about our books than you do. That’s for sure. He never even read The Diary of Anne Frank,” she said. Actually, she whined it, hoping to get a laugh of ridicule out of Mary, but Mary didn’t even smile.

“I didn’t read it either,” Mary said.

“But you had to…to be in the A group,” Denise protested.

“I faked it after I saw the movie,” Mary said. She kept looking at Johnny and he kept smiling at her.

“I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that because he’s here.”

“It’s not so hard to do that, Denise,” Johnny said. “I’ve done it myself plenty of times.” He took a few steps closer to them. “But the best way to do it is to go to the library and get a hold of Masterplots. Ever do that?” he asked Mary.

“No,” she said, “I never thought of it.”

“That’s stupid,” Denise said quickly. “You don’t get all the facts and your teacher might find out and give you a zero on a major assignment.”

“You get enough of what you need,” Johnny said. He was looking only at Mary now and she was quite aware of it. “I’m not saying it’s the same as reading a book, but when you’re in a pinch…”

“You’re always in a pinch,” Denise said. “That’s why Mommy had to get you a tutor.”

Johnny shrugged, his wise guy smile still written over his face. Mary liked it.

“It’s good to know about that Masterplots thing. Thanks,” Mary said.

“I thought you were changing your ways,” Denise said. “Since you started with your fabulous tutor. That doesn’t sound like someone who is changing his ways,” she added, mostly for Mary’s benefit. But her friend did not come to her aid.

“I’m changing. I’m changing. But I’m not giving up on the things that have helped me all along. That would be stupid. Even Mr. Lucy said so.”

“Sometimes your teachers pile on the work and you’ve got to do something like that,” Mary said. “I bet they even expect you will.”

“Exactly.”

“I never would,” Denise said, but her tone was softer. She was losing this battle and she didn’t want to appear out of step with Mary. “It’s not right.”

“Well, she’s got all this time on her hands now,” Johnny said. He winked at Mary. ‘Find ways to separate them,’ Mr. Lucy had said. ‘Find ways to draw them apart.’ “When she gets older and her interests develop in other things besides homework and stars on her report card…” he added, widening his eyes on ‘other things.’ Mary smiled and nodded knowingly. Denise sensed she had been wedged out of the conversation.

“I’m interested in other things,” she claimed. She said it so vigorously that both Johnny and Mary had to turn to her.

“Oh?”

“But it’s none of your business.”

“That’s immature,” he said. He knew he couldn’t say anything worse as far as she was concerned. Especially in front of Mary.

“It is not.”

“Maybe it is,” Mary Warren said, her eyes on Johnny again. She was obviously playing for his approval.

“Yes,” Johnny said. “You can’t be ashamed of your other interests. As long as they’re natural,” he added, his smile widening.

“I’m not ashamed. I…I just don’t like talking about it, that’s all.”

“You do too,” Mary said.

“Mary!”

Johnny laughed. He walked around the sectional and plopped himself down on one of the ottoman pieces.

“I know someone who has the hots for you, Denise,” he said quickly. The expression and the idea took both Denise and Mary by total surprise. Denise’s mouth dropped and Mary’s smile widened. Mary put her notebook down between herself and Denise and turned to him completely.

“Who? Who likes her?”

“I told him he’s nuts. He should either see an eye doctor or a psychiatrist.”

“You would. He’s lying anyway,” Denise said, but Mary’s attention couldn’t be rescued.

“I don’t think he is. Come on, Johnny, tell us,” she pleaded. She turned her shoulder suggestively and leaned on the arm of the couch. Her breasts pushed up into the V-neck collar, deepening her cleavage. Johnny admired how pink and smooth her skin was there.

“Well, he’s a junior,” Johnny said. This impressed both the girls.

“How do you know he…likes me?” Denise asked. She tried to be disdainful, but her voice weakened as the real possibility took hold.

“He’s always talking about you. Whenever the other guys are not around, that is. He thinks you’re cute. We have the same tutor,” Johnny explained to Mary. She nodded, her face growing serious. Johnny kept his eyes on her.

“Who?” Denise asked after a long pause. “Tell me,” she squealed. “If you’re kidding me, Johnny Masterson…”

He sat up and shifted from the ottoman to the couch to sit next to Mary. She shifted to make a comfortable place for him immediately. He put his arm behind her, stretching it over the back of the couch.

“I don’t know if I should tell you. I’m not teasing,” he added quickly. “I just don’t know if he wants me to. He never asked me to say anything.”

“If he told you, he probably meant for you to say something to her,” Mary said. “You’re her brother. He’d expect it,” she concluded.

“That’s right,” Denise said. “Besides, it isn’t fair. It’s like teasing.”

“It is teasing,” Mary added.

He nearly laughed at the way she pleaded with her eyes. He turned away, acting as though he were giving the matter deep thought. Both girls waited anxiously. Then he nodded to himself.

“Well, you can’t tell him I told you. You’ve got to act cool about it. You can’t let on. I’m not so sure I’m not violating some code of privacy or something.”

“I won’t.”

“She won’t. I’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Mary promised.

“All right. It’s Gary Rosen.”

“Gary Rosen! He’s…”

“All right,” Johnny said quickly. “Not too many people know him like I do now. He’s a very sharp guy.”

“I always thought he was,” Mary said quickly, even though it was obvious she had just thought of it. “He’s got dynamite eyes. Shirley Ruderman said so too,” she added. Shirley had been speaking about someone else, but Mary thought she could always claim she thought she meant Gary.

“I never thought about him,” Denise said. “He never says anything to me.”

“Afraid to,” Johnny said. “Because of me.”

“Because of you?”

“He thought I would be upset, since he’s a junior and you’re only in seventh grade.”

“Yeah, but seventh-graders are different nowadays,” Mary said. “It’s not the same as it was, even when you were in seventh grade.”

“I know,” Johnny said. He leaned toward her. He could see a small flush come into her neck.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to chase after him,” Denise said.

“You don’t have to,” Johnny said. “All I have to do is give him the word and he’ll chase after you.”

“Oh, tell him to do it,” Mary said. “It’ll be a great experience for you, Denise. Tell him,” she repeated when Denise hesitated.

“I don’t know,” Denise said. She looked worried.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Mary said, and then in a low voice added, “Remember what I told you about me and…” She looked at Johnny. “Remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Look,” Johnny said. “If you don’t like him, you’ll tell him to bug off. He won’t push himself where he’s not wanted. He’s not the type. Look,” he added, seeing the continued hesitation in Denise, “I’ll tell you what…this is just a possibility, but think about it.”

“What?”

“We’ll have a little prearranged get-together this weekend, down here in the basement. Mary will come, you know to make it look like one of your regular get-togethers or something, and I’ll invite Gary over. We’ll just happen to come downstairs. You can have your tapes going and we’ll have a spontaneous little party. What’d’ya say?”

“Oh yeah,” Mary said. “Great. I’ll come, I’ll come.” She turned anxiously to Denise. The reality of it frightened her, but she wouldn’t let on in front of her sophisticated friend. Johnny could practically feel his sister’s tension.

“I don’t think it’ll make that much difference, but if you want to…”

“I do.”

“OK.”

“Mom and Dad have that party over at the Singletons, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. We can do whatever we want,” Johnny added, touching Mary’s shoulder. “So let your minds run wild,” he said. He leaned forward and nibbled on Mary’s upper arm. She squealed and he got up, laughing. “Oh,” he said, turning back to them, “if you see that book anywhere, let me know, will you. I’m working on a report and I need it.”

“I’ll help you look later,” Denise said, suddenly cooperative and pleasant.

“One other thing,” he said. “Don’t tell any of the other kids about this. I don’t want any crashers.”

“We won’t,” Mary said. She gave Johnny a look of understanding. He nodded and started away.

When he looked back, they were both staring at him, Mary, wantonly, Denise, in something of a shock. He waved and went back upstairs. Before he closed the door behind him, he heard Mary speak in a loud whisper.

“Your brother’s so great,” she said. “I wish any one of my brothers had half his personality.”

Denise didn’t reply, or at least, if she did, he couldn’t hear what she said. He laughed to himself and closed the door. Why was it Mr. Lucy was always so right about people? he wondered. And then he wondered if he would ever have Mr. Lucy’s power to understand and predict what people would do.

That’s the ultimate secret, he thought. He knew it was the one that would take the most time to learn, but it was the one he wanted the most. He looked forward to greater and greater discoveries through the eyes of his tutor.

Gary Rosen stood across the street from the Mastersons’ house, just where Johnny and Mr. Lucy told him to wait. He still didn’t completely understand why all this was so important, but when Mr. Lucy explained how sensible it was for them to support one another, he immediately agreed to be part of it. He didn’t know all the details of the plan, but he understood they were going to discredit Johnny’s sister.

“I’ll do it,” Gary told him after they left Mr. Lucy’s house, “but I’m not sure how it’s going to help you.”

“If you had a younger sister who ridiculed you all the time and parents who supported her all the time, you’d understand.”

“Maybe,” Gary said, but Johnny could see that winning his parents’ favor was not very essential to Gary. He could live without it.

“And I’m tired of the way she makes fun of Mr. Lucy,” Johnny added. “She calls him my Band-Aid, which is supposed to be her little joke.”

“Nasty little bugger.”

“Needs a good lesson.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Gary said.

And so he stood behind a tree, waiting. When the Mastersons came out of their house and got into their car, he did what Johnny wanted: he stepped out just enough to be visible and then pulled back so he would look sneaky and guilty of something.

As Johnny had hoped, his father saw Gary peering at them. He stopped the car at the foot of the driveway. Johnny’s mother said something to his father and they both looked in Gary’s direction. Gary kept himself behind the tree until they pulled away and were well down the street. Then he stepped out and walked to the house. Johnny greeted him at the door.

“I was watching,” he said. “Perfect.”

“Well, if the rest of the plan is that difficult,” Gary said, tightening his smile of sarcasm, “then we have nothing to worry about. For a moment I thought your father was going to get out of the car and walk over to ask me what I was doing. I would have had to tell him I was inspecting bark.” Johnny laughed. “So what’s the next step in this ingenious plot to destroy your sister’s ivory reputation?”

“We’ll go up to my room for a while. Mary hasn’t arrived yet. Denise is in the basement, waiting. Anxiously, I might add.”

“You might. Well, lead the way. There’s nothing I look forward to more than sitting in your room,” Gary said.

Up in his room, Johnny explained things further.

“Pay a lot of attention to her,” he said. “She’s very impressionable and very conceited. All those girls in her class and section are. They all think they’re hot shit or well on the way to being it. Compliment her about something, but don’t make it look too obvious. She’s not stupid, just…what’s the word Mr. Lucy used…vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable? At least all this is contributing to our vocabulary levels.” Johnny laughed. “Compliment her, huh? This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought. Your sister isn’t exactly Brooke Shields.”

“She thinks she is, though, so she’ll believe almost anything.”

“If she believes I have the hots for her, as you put it, you’re right—she’ll believe anything.”

“Wait a minute,” Johnny said, looking out his front window, “here comes the little nympho.” He saw Mary coming up the walk. Gary looked, too.

“Yeah, well you got the better of this deal. Why don’t we try to discredit Mary Warren?”

“Come on,” Johnny said. They went down to greet Mary. When she saw Gary standing behind him, she smiled knowingly at Johnny and nodded surreptitiously in Gary’s direction. Johnny winked and then nearly laughed at how quickly she fell for it.

“Hi,” Gary said. She smiled coquettishly.

“Hi.”

“I believe your sister is expecting me,” she said, trying to sound as mature as possible.

“She’s in the basement,” Johnny told her and winked again. Then he leaned toward her. “We’ll be down in a little while. You’d better build up her confidence,” he whispered. “She’s very nervous and almost changed her mind twice.”

“No problem.” She squeezed his upper arm and hurried off.

“We’ll watch a little television first,” Johnny said after she was gone. “Timing is very important in something like this.”

“How do you know?”

“Mr. Lucy told me.”

“He tells you a lot of things, doesn’t he?” Gary said, following him into the den. There was obvious jealousy in his voice.

“Not much more than he tells you. If you’d ask him stuff, he’d talk.” Johnny turned on the set and sat back on the couch.

“Not when you’re doing work. He’s strict about that. At least he is with me.”

“With me, too, but he leaves time for you, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I wish he left more time.”

“Well, he can give just so much of himself. He has other students. He’s got to make a living or he won’t stay here.” Johnny watched Gary take a seat. “What about that ring you mentioned?”

“What about it?”

“Did you get it to him?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s worth more than a thousand dollars. My father had it appraised.”

“What did Mr. Lucy say?”

“He said he’d see. Lots of times these appraisals are inflated. I told him my father’s a bull-shitter from way back, too.”

“I like his idea about having ‘an insurance account’. He’s right. It will give us a sense of independence and increase our confidence. Someone like Sheila needs that kind of back-up too. Did you speak to her like I asked you to?”

“Yeah. No problem.”

“Good,” Johnny said, and relaxed. It was the way Mr. Lucy wanted things done, he thought, the kids getting each other to act. If Mr. Lucy did it directly, some adults might not understand, especially his parents or Gary’s. “It’s better this way,” Mr. Lucy explained. “You people have got to have faith in one another, too, and Johnny, you’re the best one to develop that among the others.”

“I was talking to Sandy about it, too,” Gary said. “She told me about some of her mother’s stuff, stuff she doesn’t want Paula to get her hands on. She says if she doesn’t take it, Paula is sure to get it.”

“I know. She told me.”

“You’re getting to be just like Mr. Lucy,” Gary said, this time a strong tone of envy in his voice. He was almost angry. “You know everything before anybody else does.”

“Well, we just happened to be…”

“Did you know that Murray Okun’s mother has been trying to get him to work with Mr. Lucy?”

Johnny did know, but he could see how important it was to Gary that he be the one who knew first.

“When did you hear this?”

“Yesterday, in the library.”

“I thought he was doing great in everything. Isn’t he in the top of your class?”

“Yeah, but he’s not on the top,” Gary said, his eyes widening.

“I get it. The Okuns want their boy to make the big speech on graduation day.”

“Yep and his mother will probably write it for him. I can just see her standing there on the platform handing him the pages.” They both laughed. “What a mama’s boy. Remember the song: ‘Murray cannot play hardball: softball, yes; hardball, no’.” Johnny smiled. He recalled how Mr. Lucy had laughed when he had sung that for him, but he dared not tell Gary about it.

“So, is he going to do it?”

“I don’t know. He came over to ask me a lot of questions about Mr. Lucy.”

“What kind of questions? Did you tell Mr. Lucy about them?” he added quickly.

“Naw. They were nothing questions—how does he teach? Where do we work in the house? How long does he spend on a subject? Does he yell? That kind of stuff. You know Murray. He’s not permitted to sweat too much. His mother still makes him wear a handkerchief around his neck on warm days so he doesn’t get a chill.”

“Yeah, I know. Still, you’d better tell Mr. Lucy about those questions when you see him…to give him all the preparation he can get. Why should he be at any kind of disadvantage when it comes to Murray Okun and his mother?”

“Mr. Lucy at a disadvantage? That’ll be the day.”

Johnny made a mental note to tell Mr. Lucy about it before Gary did.

“OK,” Johnny said. He stood up and turned off the television set. “Let’s go down. Now remember, just follow my lead and do anything I suggest and support anything I say. Don’t forget what I said about looking at her and complimenting her.”

“Jesus, I hope I can pull this off. I don’t want to let you or Mr. Lucy down.”

“You won’t. Trust me. Whatever happens, it’s to help one another, just as Mr. Lucy said. I’m sure I’ll do something for you soon.”

“Right.”

They looked at each other for a moment. There was a sense of brotherhood between them, a feeling of alliance. Loners most of their lives, they had finally found companionship and a sense of identity. They were bonded together by more than common problems. Mr. Lucy’s presence was always felt wherever there were two of them together. They shared his shadow.

Johnny hesitated a moment at the basement door. He opened it slowly, as if he were uncovering something precious. Then they started down the stairs. The girls were on their knees near the stereo, choosing tapes. Denise looked up shyly when she heard them approaching. Johnny could see there was some excitement in her face already and he had a momentary pang of regret. He considered it weakness and forced it down.

Mary’s eyes were hot with expectation. He took a deep breath and smiled at her. He felt the personal power, just as Mr. Lucy promised he would.

“What’s up, girls?”

“Just listening to some music,” Mary said quickly.

“Great. Mind if we hang out?”

Mary waited for Denise to speak, but all she did was stare.

“No. Why should we mind?”

Johnny turned to Gary. “Wanna play a little pool?” Gary stared at Denise. A flush began to come into her face.

“What? Oh, sure, sure. Maybe the girls want to play, too. We could partner up for eight ball.”

“Maybe. What’d’ya say, girls, you wanna play?”

“Sure,” Mary said quickly.

“I don’t know how to play eight ball,” Denise said.

“There’s nothing to it,” Gary said. He looked at Johnny. “I’ll take Denise. That way I can teach her as we go along.”

“Fine with me. Mary, you’re mine.” She laughed. “I’ll set up. Put on a tape anyway,” he added.

“Go on,” Mary said, indicating Gary, “I’ll do it.”

Denise stood up slowly. She was wearing a recently purchased pair of jeans and a Danskin blouse tight enough to outline her budding breasts. Mary had given her the idea to go without her training bra.

“It’s suggestive,” she told her. “Someone told me it’s even sexier than a fully developed woman in a bra. It leaves things up to men’s imaginations and they can be driven into a frenzy because of it,” she added, her eyes big. Denise could hardly breathe because her heart was beating so fast when Mary told her all this. Now, she had done it, and from the way Gary Rosen was looking at her, she was positive that Mary’s information was correct.

“I’ll go first,” Gary told her. “And as I go, I’ll explain things to you, OK?”

“Sure. I’m not too good, though. I hardly ever play.”

“That’s all right.” He handed her a cue stick. “I like your hair like that,” he said. She couldn’t respond. Her throat closed before she was able to utter a thanks. Instead, she turned to Mary, who was smiling and biting her lower lip. Gary went to the table.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he whispered.

“Just play the game,” Johnny said. “Everything’s going well.”

Gary shrugged and got ready to break the pack of pool balls. The girls gathered around the table as the music started. The game was funny. No one could really play well. There was a lot of laughter and fooling around. Johnny got cozier and cozier with Mary. He got behind her and put his arms around her to show her how to use the cue stick. He embraced her often and kissed her on the cheek when she sank a ball. He correctly anticipated that Denise would follow her lead and use her as a model. Whenever Gary made the same kind of gestures he did, Denise didn’t resist. It made Johnny recall a recent conversation with Mr. Lucy.

“It’s always like this,” Mr. Lucy had told him. “Someone in the group sets the tone, shows the way for the others who follow like sheep. You’ll set the tone for the inner circle, Johnny. You’re their leader.

“Now, from what you’ve told me, this Mary Warren is the leader of your sister’s group. That means whatever she does, your sister’s bound to do. Get Mary to do it first; get her to encourage your sister and your sister will do what you want her to do. Sometimes it’s more effective to work through people, other people, when we want things done our way. Understand?”

“Yes,” he said. He did understand and he wanted to say, “That’s what you’re doing when you work through me.” But he didn’t say that; he kept it to himself so it could be one of his secrets.

The music continued. They played another game. Halfway through it, when the playing got very bad and they all got very silly, he suggested they “borrow” some of his parents’ booze. Denise was shocked by the suggestion, but Mary was all for it.

“Just a little,” he said, “to warm things up.” He went behind the bar to mix some drinks. “Everyone like vodka?”

“Sure,” Mary said.

“Love it.” Gary added. When he looked at Denise, she nodded quickly. “Denise loves it, too.”

“Great, because we have a lot of tonic.” Johnny gave himself, Gary, and Mary practically nothing, but filled his sister’s glass nearly halfway with vodka.

They drank; they played more pool; they danced. There was another set of drinks. The giggling got louder; the laughter got looser. When he suggested the whirlpool, there was a momentary pause filled with tremendous excitement and expectation. Everyone turned to it as though just realizing it was there.

It loomed before them, filled with erotic promise. The bubbling, scented water beckoned and tempted. Even Gary, part of the contrivance, seemed taken with the hydro-fantasies. Everyone looked at everyone else. The air was electric with sexual tension.

“Let’s do it,” Mary said.

“Sure, what’s the big deal?” Johnny said.

“Do what?” Denise asked. The vodka had left her lightheaded and confused. Gary had his arm around her, but she didn’t seem aware of it.

“Go in the spa. What’d’ya think? Just like my parents and their friends do,” Johnny added. It gave the suggestion some kind of seal of approval, especially for Mary.

“Yeah, if the adults can do it, why can’t we? Last one in is a nerd,” she said, moving toward it. She began to unfasten her jeans. Johnny shot a glance at Gary, nodded, and then took off his shirt as quickly as he could.

“Great,” Gary said, and did the same. Denise looked from one to the other, the realization of what was about to happen settling in on her.

“Put the lights out at least and draw the curtains on the windows. I’m not going in unless you put the lights out.”

Mary already had her jeans off. She held them in front of her and looked impatiently at Denise. Johnny smirked as if to say, “Let’s humor her.”

“Get the curtains, Gary,” he said. “I’ll get the lights.”

After that there was a nervous air of silence as everyone stripped down. Mary was in first. There was still enough light from the basement windows to silhouette her body clearly. Gary stared admiringly. The sight of her well-developed figure brought the scene to a high pitch of sexual excitement. Johnny nudged Gary to remind him of his mission. He reached over and took Denise’s hand.

“I’m not ready,” she exclaimed. Still in her panties, she embraced her naked upper body.

“Come on,” Johnny said. He was up on the platform.

“It’s beautiful,” Mary cried. “Hurry up, Denise.”

“I’ll go first,” Gary told her. He got behind Johnny and the two boys slipped into the spa, Johnny getting close to Mary quickly. Then the three of them coaxed Denise until she got up enough nerve to slip out of her panties and come up the platform. Still embracing and covering her tiny bosom, she stepped into the spa. Gary held his hand to guide her in beside him. She looked at him anxiously for a moment, hesitating.

“It’s dark,” Johnny said.

“Stop being so immature,” Mary said.

Throwing abandon to the side, Johnny’s little sister did what he had hoped. She uncovered herself and got beside Gary in the spa. Everyone cheered. The booze, the bubbling water, the excitement of their nudity soon made Denise as loose, as everyone else. She watched as Johnny kissed Mary and Mary cooperatively returned his embrace. When Gary made a similar gesture, Denise did not resist.

“This is beautiful,” Mary said. She leaned back, the tops of her breasts gleaming in the tiny illumination that penetrated the window curtains.

“If Mommy and Daddy ever find out,” Denise said, and nervously laughed at the image in her own mind.

“What’s the difference?” Mary said. “They do it.”

“Yeah,” Gary said.

“As long as everybody behaves, there’s no problem,” Johnny said.

“No problem,” Mary repeated and giggled. She and Johnny kissed again. Denise saw Johnny fondling Mary in the water. She jumped when Gary touched her own waist though.

“Relax,” Mary said. There was a little splashing about and then Johnny suddenly stopped.

“Hold it a moment,” he said. “Quiet.”

“What?”

“Everyone be quiet.” They were. “Aw, shit.”

“What is it?” Denise asked.

“It’s got to be Gerson Fishman. I forgot all about him.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Mary said.

“I did,” Gary said. “A doorbell, right?”

“Right. He was supposed to drop by with a book on European history for me. That’s him. Shit.”

“Forget about him,” Mary suggested. “Maybe he’ll just go away.”

“Naw, he knows I’m home and…and the door’s open,” he added quickly. He stood up. “Everyone stay put. I’ll get rid of him in ten minutes and be right back.”

He hopped out and dried himself quickly with one of the big bath towels stacked beside the spa. Then he slipped on his jeans and shirt, grabbing his shoes as he leaned over to kiss Mary. She laughed.

“I’ll chaperon these two,” she said, “but hurry back.”

“Right. Wait,” he said, going to the bar. He took the bottle of vodka and the glasses and placed them on the spa. “Gary, you do the honors. Keep everyone happy until I get rid of Fishman.”

“Gotcha.”

Johnny hurried upstairs. His phone call to the Singletons was quick and dramatic.

“Tell my parents to hurry home, Mr. Singleton. Something terrible is happening in the basement. Please,” he said.

“I’ll get them for you. Hold on.”

“No. Just tell them to come quickly.” He hung up before there could be any questions. They were only a few blocks away, so he knew they would just come.

Still dressed he went to the basement again. He walked halfway down the stairs.

“Everything all right?” he asked in a loud whisper.

“I can’t see Gary’s hands, but everything’s all right,” Mary said. “Come on back in.”

“I will. Fishman went to the bathroom. As soon as he’s out and I get him out of the house I’ll return. Don’t leave the spa and don’t make too much noise.”

“We’ll only talk with our hands,” Gary said. Denise giggled.

“Good,” Johnny said. “Good. Everything’s fine,” he added for Gary’s benefit.

He walked back up and closed the basement door softly. Then he went to the front and waited by the window. When he saw his parents drive up, he went out to greet them. His father got out of the car quickly and slammed the door hard.

Johnny remembered Mr. Lucy’s words. “They’d be angry,” he said, “angrier than usual because they’d be embarrassed and frustrated. They’d expect to go back to their party, maybe, but in any case, they knew everyone back there was waiting to find out what had happened.”

“What is it?” Johnny’s father demanded as soon as he saw his son. His father was a big man, well over six feet tall. He had been a good athlete in college and now, despite his heavy work and social schedule, he kept himself in relatively good shape. When he was angry, his face reddened so quickly he looked as though he would have an explosion of blood at the top of his head. Once, Johnny humorously compared him to a thermometer. His mother laughed but his father didn’t think it was so funny.

“What happened, Johnny?” his mother asked. She came around the car quickly. It never took much to get his mother set off. She was normally high-strung and nervous, which was supposedly why she remained so thin. “Is this some kind of a prank, because if it is…”

“It’s no joke, unless you think it is. I don’t like being a snitch, but…”

“What?” his father demanded, his arms extended.

“Go on down to the basement and leave me out of it,” Johnny said, feigning indignation.

“My God, what could it be?” his mother asked. She brought her hands to her mouth and pressed them against her lips as though to stop herself from screaming.

“Damn,” Thomas Masterson said. He hurried into the house, his wife right behind him. Johnny watched them and then smiled.

After a moment he walked back to the front door. By the time he reentered, they were already down the basement steps.