I spit on your graves Read online

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  I Spit on Your Graves

  "Where did Dexter ever dig up those two knock-outs?"

  "High society. No small town bobby-soxers there, Lee. Not the type we could take swimming with us."

  "A damn shame too. As a last resort I think I'd even take on the old one as long as I could have the young ones too."

  "Don't be getting so hot and bothered, cutypie. They're not local girls."

  "Where do they come from?"

  "Prixville. About a hundred miles away. Old friends of Dexter's old man."

  "Both of them?"

  "What do you think! You're pretty slow tonight, punchy. They're sisters, with their father and mother. Lou and Jean Asquith. Jean is the blond. The older one. Lou is five years younger."

  "That makes her sixteen?" I hazarded.

  "Fifteen. Lee Anderson, are you going to ditch our bunch and chase after papa Asquith's fillies?"

  "Don't be a drip, Judy. Don't they appeal to you?"

  "No thank you, I feel pretty normal tonight. I prefer men. Let's dance, Lee."

  "Will you introduce me?"

  "Ask Dexter."

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  "O.K." I said.

  We danced the last two bars of the record that was just finishing, and I left her. Dexter was giving a line to some skirt at the other end of the hall. I latched on to him.

  "Say, Dexter!"

  "Yeah!"

  He turned around. He had a mocking air as he looked at me, but I didn't give a rap.

  "Those girls over there, the Asquiths I think. Give me a knockdown."

  "Sure thing, old man, come on."

  They appeared even more stunning close-up than when I'd seen them from the bar. They were sensational. I made some insignificant remark to them and then invited Lou, the dark-haired one, to dance the dreamy number the record changer had just put on. Glory! I blessed the Lord and the guy who had had a tux made in my size. I held her a bit closer than proper, but nevertheless I couldn't press her up against me like we in the bunch did, when we felt like it. She had used a rather subtle perfume, which must have been very expensive; probably really from Paris. Her dark hair was heaped up on one side of the head, and her yellowish lynx-eyes shone out of a rather pale V-shaped face. And her body -rather not think about it. Her dress seemed to

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  hold up by itself, I don't know just how, since there was nothing over her shoulders or around her neck, noting but her breasts to hold it up, and I must say that they looked so hard and pointy that they would have held up a couple of dozen dresses of that weight. I shifted her a bit to the right and I could feel the point through my dress shirt, on my chest. You could see the others' underwear pressing up under their dresses, but she had fixed herself up differently, for from her armpits down to her ankles her form was as smooth as though poured into a mold. After I had gotten my breath back, I dared to try to talk to her.

  "How is it that I've never seen you here before?"

  "But I do come here, as you can see."

  She drew back a bit so she could look at me. I was at least a head taller than she.

  "I mean, here in town."

  "You'd see me if you came to Prixville."

  "Then I think I'll have to make my home in Prixville."

  I had hesitated before speaking so bluntly. I didn't want to go too fast, but you could never tell with women. You've got to take a chance. It didn't seem to bother her. She smiled a little, but her eyes were still cold.

  "Even then you wouldn't necessarily see

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  me."

  "I suppose all your admirers keep you hidden."

  I was certainly going at it too crudely. I don't usually do that when I'm not excited.

  "Oh," she said, "There aren't too many interesting people in Prixville."

  "Well that's fine," I said, "Then I still have a chance!"

  "I don't know that you're at all interest-ing."

  Well, I'd asked for it and she gave it to me. But I wasn't going to give up that easy.

  "Just what do you find interesting?"

  "Well, you're not so bad. But you never can tell. I don't know you."

  "I'm a friend of Dexter's, of Dick Page and the others."

  "I know Dick. But Dexter is a funny sort of fellow."

  "He's got too much money for you to call him that," I said.

  "In that case I guess you won't be thinking much of my family either. You know, we're not too gad off as far as money goes either."

  "You can sense that," I said, dropping my head to sniff her hair.

  She smiled again.

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  "You like my perfume?"

  "Love it!"

  "That's fumiy," she said. "I could have sworn you'd prefer the smell of horses, of gun grease, or of witch hazel."

  "Don't be making fun of me," I said. "It isn't my fault if I'm built the way I am and that I don't look like a little angel."

  "I hate little angels," she said. "But I dislike even more men that like horses."

  "I never want to get within a mile of the critters," I said. "When can I see you again."

  "Oh! I haven't left yet. You've still got the whole evening."

  "That isn't enough."

  "That'll depend on you."

  At this point the number finished, and^ she just left me. I watched her slip through the other couples, and she turned around to laugh at me, but it wasn't a very discouraging laugh. She had a figure that would have awakened even a Congressman.

  I went back to the bar. I found Dick and Jicky there. They were sipping some Martinis. They seemed to be bored stiff.

  "Hey Dick," I said to him, "Don't laugh so hard, you're liable to get your neck out of joint."

  "What's cooking with you, long hair?"

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  said Jicky. "What've you been up to. Shagging with a nigger-woman. Or chasing the chicken with the golden egg."

  "For a longhair," I snapped back, "I can be pretty groovy. Let's get some solid cats rounded up and make tracks to where I can show you who's a square.

  "You mean nice little cats with lynx-eyes and strapless gowns, huh?"

  "Jicky, sugar-baby," I said going over to her and grabbing her by the wrists, "you don't blame me for going for good-looking females, do you?"

  I pulled her up against me and looked into her eyes. She gave me a broad smile.

  "You're getting tired of us, Lee. Got enough of the bunch, haven't you? After all, I'm not such a bad catch m.yself. My father doesn't do so bad with twenty thousand bucks a year."

  "Well," I changed the subject," are you really having any fun here? It feels like a morgue to me. Lets get some liquor and scram. These damn monkey-suits kill me."

  "Do you think Dexter will like it?"

  "I think Dexter has something better to do to keep him busy besides worry about us."

  "And your latest heart-throbs - do you

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  think they'll come just like that?"

  "Dick knows them," I said, giving him a sideward glance.

  Dick, a bit more alive than usual, gave himself a slap on the thigh.

  "Lee, you sure know your onions. Now you're cooking on the front burner."

  "I thought I was a longhair!"

  "Must be a wig."

  "Go after those two babes," I said, "and drag them over. Or rather, try to get them into my car, or in yours if you like."

  "But what'U I use for an excuse?"

  "Come on, Dick," I told him, "Can you use your head for something besides a hatrack? You can sure dig up something from your long experience to get them along!"

  He took off, shaking his head, but laughing. Jicky had been listening and now took on a mocking smile. I beckoned to her and she came over.

  "How about you chasing afte
r Judy and Bill, and getting about seven or eight pints or so?"

  "Where we going to go?"

  "Where can we go to?"

  "My father and mother aren't home," said Jicky, "Just my little brother and he'll be

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  sleeping. Come to my house."

  "You're a peach, Jicky. Cross your heart."

  She lowered her voice.

  "Will you do it to me?"

  "What!?"

  "Will you, Lee?"

  "Oh! Sure thing," I said.

  Though I'd had Jicky often enough, I think I could have laid her on the spot. It was very exciting to see her in her evening dress with her shock of smooth hair hanging down her left cheek, her slightly slanty eyes and her ingenue mouth. She was breathing faster and her cheeks had become red.

  "It's silly maybe, Lee. I know we do it all the time... But I like it so much!"

  "O.K., Jicky," I said, stroking her shoulder, "Don't worry, we'll have another go at least once before we kick off."

  She pressed my wrist very hard, and then went off before I could stop her. I felt like telling her then and there, tell her what I was, just to see her face... but Jicky wasn't worth wasting that on. I felt as strong as John Henry and I didn't have to worry about my heart breaking.

  I went back to the bar and asked the one serving for a double martini. I tossed it off in a

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  gulp and then decided to do something to help out Dick.

  I saw the older Asquith girl come over near there. She was chatting with Dexter. I liked his looks even less than usual with his black lock of hair hanging down his forehead. His tux fitted him just right. He almost looked well built because of it, and his dark tan against the white shirt made a good ad for the Hotel Splendide in Bermuda.

  I went straight up to them.

  "Dex," I said, "would you mind very much if I asked Miss Asquith for this dance?"

  "I guess you're too big for me, Lee," Dexter replied. "I won't fight."

  I don't think he really gave a hang, but you never could tell exactly what that guy meant anyhow. I had already put my arms around Jean Asquith.

  I think I still preferred her sister Lou. I would never have thought there was a difference of five years between them. Jean was almost as tall as I am. She was at least four inches taller than Lou. Her gown consisted of two pieces of some black and very transparent fabric, the lower part in several thicknesses. She had on a very complicated looking brassiere which nevertheless covered a minimum of flesh. She had a golden skin,

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  with some freckles on her shoulders and forehead, and her hair, done up in a very short permanent, gave her head a rather roundish appearance. She also had a rounder face than Lou.

  "Are you having any fun here?" I asked her.

  "Oh, parties are all alike. This one isn't any worse than any other."

  "Right now," I said, "I find it much better than any other."

  She was a very good dancer. It was very easy for me. And then too, I had no reason for not holding her closer than her sister, since she could talk to me without looking up to me. She pressed her cheek against mine; when I lowered my eyes a little they fell on her nicely rounded ear, her funny short hair and her round shoulder. She smelt of sage and wild herbs.

  "What perfume do you use?" I went on, since she hadn't answered.

  "I never use any perfume," she said.

  I didn't want to keep this kind of chitchat up for ever, so I decided to take a chance and act.

  "How'd you like to go somewhere where we could really have some fun."

  "For example?"

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  She spoke with a rather nonchalant air, without raising her head, and what she said seemed to come from behind me.

  "Oh, a place where you can drink all you want, smoke all you want, and where you have all the room you want to dance in."

  "That would be something," she said. "The way we've been dancing you'd think we were doing some Balinese number."

  As a matter of fact we hadn't been able to move a bit in the last five minutes and had just been moving our feet back and forth in time with the music and not covering any ground at all. I loosened my grip on her but still keeping my arm around her waist, I guided her out.

  "Well, let's go," I said. "We'll go over to my friends place."

  I turned my head to her at the instant she said that and caught her breath right in my face. God knows I'm not lying when I say she had killed at least half a quart of gin.

  "Just who are these friends of yours?"

  "Oh, they're very nice," I assured her.

  We were going through the empty vestibule. I didn't bother to get her cape. The air was warm and scented by the jasmine on the porch.

  "After all," Jean said as we stopped at

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  the portico, "I hardly know you."

  "Of course you do," I said carrying her along, "I'm you're old friend, Lee Anderson."

  She broke out into an uncontrolled laugh and let herself be taken along.

  "Oh, to be sure, Lee Anderson. Come along Lee, everybody's waiting for us."

  I now had a tough time keeping up with her. She raced down the porch steps and I didn't catch up with her until we'd both covered about thirty feet.

  "Hold it," I said, "not so fast!"

  I got a good hold on her.

  "The car is over that way."

  Judy and Bill were waiting in the Nash.

  "We've got some liquor," Judy whispered. Dick is just ahead of us with the others."

  "Lou Asquith too,?" I murmured.

  "Yes, Don Juan, she's there too. You can take off now."

  Jean Asquith with her head flopped on the back of the front seat stretched out an uncertain hand to Bill.

  "Hiya, how do you do? Is it raining?"

  "Don't be a sill," Bill caught on, "The bottom of the barometer dropped out but

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  that's tomorrow's weather, not today's."

  "Oh," said Jean. "I don't think your car'U ever make it."

  "Don't be slandering my Rolls-Royce." I protested, "Do you feel cold?"

  I bent over her to look for a blanket I knew didn't exist, "accidentally" hooking my jacket buttons on her skirt and lifting it over her knees. Glory! What legs!

  "I'm dying from the heat," Jean said in an unsteady voice.

  I let out the clutch and followed Dick's car, which had just set out in front of us. There was a whole row of cars of various swank makes in front of Dexter's house, and I would have liked to take one of them instead of my decrepit Nash. But I'd manage even without a new car.

  Jicky didn't live very far away, in a colonial-style house. The garden, surrounded by a rather high hedge, was quite nicer than the rest in the neighborhood.

  I saw Dick's stop-light stop moving and then go out; then his parking lights went on. I stopped my car as I heard the roadster's door slam. Four people had gotten out: Dick, Jicky, Lou, and somebody else. From the way he went up the porch steps I guessed it was Shorty Nick. He and Dick each had a couple

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  of bottles and I then saw that Judy and Bill also had some. Jean Asquith didn't seem to want to get out of the car, so I got out, walked around it to her side, opened the door, slipped one arm under her knees and another under her neck. She got a bang on the nose in the process. Judy came up behind me.

  "She's groggy, your nice little girl-friend. What did you do, hit her?"

  "I don't know if it was me or the gin she drank," I muttered, "maybe she's just haying a beauty nap."

  "Now's the time to take advantage of her, cuty-pie. Go to it."

  "Oh go lay an egg. It's too easy with somebody that's drunk."

  "Hey you!"

  It was Jean's pleasant voice.
She was coming to.

  "Lemme down!"

  I saw that she was going to throw up, so I jumped into Jicky's garden. Judy went up and closed the door, and I held Jean's head while she went at it. It was a fine mess. Gin, plain, and unadulterated. And as hard to keep down as an unbroken colt. She did a thorough job. I held her up with one hand.

  "Roll my sleeve up," I whispered to Judy.

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  She rolled the sleeve of my tux up my arm, and I maneuvered myself so as to hold Miss Asquith on the other side.

  "Now, go to it," said Judy, when Jean was finished. "I'll lay chicky. Take your time."

  Bill had long since disappeared with his bottles.

  "Where can you get water?" I asked Judy.

  "In the house. Come on, we'll go in the back way."

  I followed her through the garden, half dragging Jean, who stumbled at each step she took on the gravel path. Lord, she was heavy! She was quite a handful. Judy went ahead of me on the staircase and led me upstairs. The rest of the gang was making a big racket in the living room. Fortunately the door was closed and muffled the noise. I groped my way up in the dark, keeping my eyes on Judy's behind which reflected light from somewhere. At the top of the staircase she managed to find a switch, and I went into the bathroom. There was a big rubber bath-mat along side the tub.

  "Put her on that," Judy said.

  "No fooling around," I said. "Take off her skirt."

  She unzipped it and took off the frilly stuff in a jiffy. She rolled her

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  stockings down to her ankles. I've got to say that I never really knew what a good figure was until I saw Jean Asquith lying nude on that mat. She was something to look at. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was still somewhat frothy. I wiped it with a bit of Kleenex. Not so much for her sake, as for mine. Judy was busy rummaging through the medicine chest.

  "I've got just the thing, Lee," she finally said. "Make her drink this."

  "She can't drink now. She's sleeping. She hasn't got a thing in her stomach."