chap. 17...everything i do you got your mouth stuck out  

sparkee58 59M
606 posts
4/13/2006 3:05 am

Last Read:
8/23/2006 8:18 am

chap. 17...everything i do you got your mouth stuck out

Azalea Festival came and Wilmington was gaudy as a whore in church. The delicate blossoms, colorful as oriental silk, were erupting all over town. The medians, yards, backstreets and alleys were planted with them and the red and pink flowers were an explosion of color. It was like living on an artist's palette. Kami was in utter delight.
We sat on their back porch at their house, just west of Wrightsville Beach, on the first day of the festival drinking Jack Daniels and Mountain Dew. It was warm and humid. The sky was blue and cloudless as 9-11. "The sky is still the same unbelievably blue," as The Boss sang. Kami wore her Daisy Dukes with a tube top that she kept pulling up. Her heavy breasts strained to escape. Jeff was tending to the grill, stacking charcoal in his slow, methodical way. His brown eyes were screwed up in concentration.
"You stack them like that for the best fire," he explained.
"Like that," I said. "Are you sure that one doesn't go on the bottom?"
I picked one off the stack and moved it. He snorted and moved it back.
"Jeeeffff," Kami whined.
She was lanquidly stretched out in a beach chair. Her feet had red painted toenails that matched her lipstick. They were planted on each side of the chair and her long tan legs were opening and closing with the slow beat of the music playing from inside. Her knees would come together and then apart and as I watched her swaying sensually to the beat her big labia nested in that thin blonde bush peeked out and beckoned to me. She held out an empty glass. She saw where I was stareing and looked down in mock surprise. She put her legs together demurely.
"You need a little bell to ring," I told her.
"I know," she said. "Like Morticia. Will you get me another drink?"
"She had a rope," Jeff said.
"Morticia had a rope she pulled," Jeff said. He pulled at an imaginary rope.
I nodded my head.
"Well, whatever. I sure wish Lurch would get me a drink," she said.
"Yooooouuuu rannnnngggg," said Jeff in a deep voice. He lumbered around like a drunken Frankenstein. But he didn't take her glass.
"Fuck you, Jeff," she said.
She smiled up at me and I took it and went into the kitchen. When I got back Jeff held a can of lighter fluid in his hands.
"Then you spray on the lighter fluid and let it soak in," he continued. He took the can and squeezed the sides and the clear fluid soaked the black coals. The can was almost empty. The sides were touching and made a metallic sound. He tortured the can until it was dry as a desert.
"Ten minutes" he said as he shut the top of the grill.
We stood in blue jean shorts and were shirtless in the sun.
"Not nine?" I asked.
"Ten," he repeated.
"Not eleven?"
"Ten minutes. It's got to be ten minutes," Kami said in a sing song voice and laughed. "Ten minutes."
"Or what?"
"I don't know. But it's got to be ten minutes," she said, serious as discussing special relativity.

After sunset we went inside. We were pretty deep into the Jack Daniels and Kami whirled around the room abandoned as Grushenka dancing for Karamazov. All she needed was a scarf to wave. Jeff was plopped down on the couch. I stood by the doorway to the kitchen, watching.
She bumped the coffee table and his drink turned over. It spilled onto the carpeted floor.
"Hey!" he yelled. He stood up in agitation.
She stopped and looked down at the mess. She held her hands to her face and laughed.
"Clean it up," he said.
"," Kami said and went back to dancing.
Jeff walked over to the stereo and turned it off.
They stood there glaring at each other.
"Clean up your mess, Kami. Now."
"You clean it up!"
She stormed out of the room. I got a towel from the bathroom and threw it to Jeff, who mopped up the sweet smelling liquid. He lay the towel over the stain and shook his head disgustedly.
"She's wasted," he said. We sat back on the couch. Suddenly, like a dog in the field, his ears perked up. Then we heard the sound of her car cranking and taking off. Jeff jumped up and ran toward the door.
"Damn...damn...damn! She's going to get locked up," he shouted. "We have to go find her!"
His brown eyes were wide with fear.
"Let's go," he shouted, throwing on a blue polo shirt and a pair of worn topsiders. We ran to my MGB. Jeff vaulted over the door into the driver's seat and turned the key.
Again, he tried, slapping the wheel with an impatient hand.
He opened the door and we started pushing the small car down the level street. When we had enough speed, he jumped back inside and put it in gear and suddenly released the clutch. The four-cylinder British engine roared to life. We sped down the street, wind whipping through our hair, suddenly stone cold sober. It was late but traffic was still heavy with tourists returning from events or exploring the heavily made up town. Or simply lost.
We stopped at a red light. Jeff stared straight ahead. His jaw was set and his mouth was pinched tight. His hand squeezed the steering wheel.
"So. Where are we going?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
My heart was racing; I had visions of her screaming in a fiery crash and us driving up and her dying in my arms, waving away the wailing, hateful husband, who now woefully regretted his earlier actions.
I saw his face relax as the cars passed through the light.
"Dolly's house," he finally said.
"Who is Dolly?"
"Dolly Wood? Oh, that's right, you've never met her."
The light turned green and we sped off.
"You're shitting me. That's her name? Dolly Wood?" I asked.
"Yep. And she would." He looked at me and suddenly smiled.
Sonofabitch, I thought.
"What about Kami?" I asked. I felt I was watching her slip under the water and was helpless to stop it.
"That's where she'll be," he said.
We got on 40 and the cool night air rushed by as we raced westbound along the almost empty four lane.
"Mohigan," Jeff said.
Afterwards, he turned on the stereo and it came to life in the middle of Robert Johnson's "Dead Shrimp Blues".

"...everything I do you got your mouth stuck out.
Hole where I used to fish you got me posted out.
You got your mouth stuck out.
And the hole where I used to fish,
You got me posted out."

Jeff started singing the chorus, sticking his mouth out, making his eyes bulge and watching him I involuntarily shook with laughter. I started singing it, too. Then he replayed it.
We raced down 40, singing Mississippi blues, comfortably numb, as Pink Floyd says, and I wasn't sure anymore exactly what our mission was. Then I remembered Kami.
Jeff looked me in the eyes like he was reading my mind.
"She'll be fine," he said. "Don't worry."
We drove past a couple of exits and then he turned off and we were on a two lane road heading east. There wasn't a streetlight or a store in sight. The few houses were dark. Cows lay in the fields sleeping like piles of dirt. He slowed down and turned onto a dirt path surrounded by towering oak trees on both sides. They joined hands overhead and, as we passed underneath, I looked up and saw the half moon through their leafy fingers. A dog barked from faraway. Jeff hit a bump on the dirt path that brought me back to reality. I was silent with expectation.
I saw the gleam of a red light as the path curved and then we were closer and I saw a block house. A red light bulb shone down over the closed front door. Jeff turned off the headlights and my eyes adjusted to the dark as he stopped the car. We were still a ways from the house. Jeff studied the yard.
"So you think she's here?" I asked.
"Shhhhhh," he said.
I saw a pair of eyes, gleaming with captured moonlight, hover over the ground and then the sound of small feet as the creature scurried away.
There were several cars parked haphazardly in the large yard. Light and music came from the open front window of the house and we saw people inside as they walked by it.
"There's our car," Jeff said. He grabbed my head and pointed toward it. "See. I told you."
When I saw it, relief poured in like a deep breath. Jeff pulled the MG into the yard and turned it around so it faced back out the path in case the battery hadn't charged. He killed the engine.
"Stay here for a minute," Jeff said, "Let me check it out."
"What?" I had the door open.
"Just a minute. I'll be right back."
I eased it closed and watched as he disappeared into the dark shadows of the large oak trees surrounding the house. Then a cloud passed from across the half moon and I saw him standing beside the open well lit window, looking in, unobserved by the occupants inside. He studied the room for a short while and crept back to the car.
"I didn't see her," he said.
"Well, where is she?"
I again felt a kind of dread in the pit of my stomach, some subconcious rumbling of distant thunder.
Jeff was silent. He started to say something, but he checked himself and shook his head.
"I don't know," he said finally.
"Come on. Let's go inside," he said.
We stood at the front door with the red light shining down with a hellish glimmer and I saw the excitement in his eyes as he turned to me. His knuckles hesitated at the door.
"Wait 'till you meet Dolly," he said.
He rapped loudly on the door, turned the handle, pushed it open and we were inside.
There were a dozen people inside, standing around holding beer and talking. Nobody even looked over as we closed the door. I followed Jeff as walked through like he owned the place. Lynard Skynard's "Free Bird" was breaking into that great slide guitar solo. Beers were held aloft and air guitars were being furiously strummed. We looked into a small, cramped kitchen with a sink filled with plates from the evening's feast. There were three guys sitting at the table, transfixed in their poker game. Jeff nodded to one and he nodded back. They shook hands. The man looked over at me but Jeff didn't introduce us. I nodded to him.
"Seen Dolly?" Jeff asked.
He opened a big cooler, fished around in the icy water and got two Buds. He handed one to me and I wiped off the film of cold water and opened it. The top almost cut into my flesh as I twisted it open.
"I think she's gone with your old lady," he said.
"How long ago?"
"Hell, I don't know. Half hour?"
A young blond nymphet, to borrow from Nabokov, walked into the kitchen and seeing strangers, stopped and looked us over. She was short and slim, her brown eyes heavily made up with a purple shadow. She wore a bright sundress, wrinkled slightly from the night's debaucheries. Her red lips had a swollen, bee stung look. I tried to guess her age.
"I need a beer," she said.
"Are you old enough to drink?" Jeff asked.
"Hell yea! I just can't buy it," she replied.
Jeff opened the one he had and gave it to her. She took it and their hands lingered as they stared into each other's eyes. The hard look she had cultivated crumbled as her face softened.
"They call me Sweetie Pie," she said demurely. She fluttered her eyelids and smiled at him.
"Well hello, Sweetie Pie," Jeff said. He got himself another beer. Then he introduced me and I took her small, offered hand and shook it weakly. Then she turned back to Jeff.
"You want to help me pick out some music?" she asked him.
"Sure," he said. He turned to look at me as she led him by the hand out of the room. He shrugged. And then they were gone.
"You want in?" one of the poker players asked. He looked at me like appraising a used car.
I shook my head. The cards were dealt out and their attention went back to the game.
I wandered around this house full of strangers and wondered how Kami knew these people. I had never seen any of them. They all looked me over with mild curiosity and went back to their drunken conversations which I caught snatches of as I walked around. There was a long line at the bathroom, the door was open and I saw a girl leaned over the basin as if closely examining the countertop. Then she lifted up and loudly snorted in through her nose.
"Damn," I thought. A sudden chill, stealthy as a cat, crept into my heart. I had known nothing about this other life, these secrets they shared with each other but had kept me in the dark about. I knew every inch of Kami. I knew what made her happy, what made her cry, what made her spitting mad. I knew what shows she liked on tv, how she ate her eggs, how she drank her coffee. How her neck would involuntarily curve when I kissed it from behind and how exotically delicious she always tasted. How she would start to tremble and hoarsely moan as she approached her beloved orgasms. How, with her lust filled green eyes stareing into mine, she would utterly surrender and fall into her pleasure as if into a warm, embracing bath and sometimes it was as though she would never climb out. I knew her completely. Or so I thought.
I walked back into the living room and Jeff was just coming back inside. Sweetie Pie was waiting by the stereo, looking at the cd covers, her lips moving as she read the names. Hearing the door close, she looked to Jeff and smiled. He was tall and dark from the sun, his large frame easily maneuvering through the knot of people in the room. He handed her a cd and she put it in. Jeff skipped forward and the Robert Johnson song played.
"Everything I do you got your mouth stuck out," sang Jeff.
And then Sweetie Pie picked it up and sang and stuck out her large fleshy lips. Soon the entire room was singing and pouting and it was like some surreal conga line had formed. I walked over and grabbed Jeff by the arm, pulled him away from Sweetie Pie. He resisted and pulled back, not taking his eyes off her.
"Have you seen the lake out back?" he asked. He pointed to the back door.
I shrugged and walked over, opened it and went outside. I was pleasantly surprised at the size of it. It was dark but with the half moon I could see the far shoreline. There was a short pier and I walked out to the end. I could barely hear the noise and singing coming from inside. The water was dark and calm and a small boat was tied to the end. A breeze blew and it bobbed in the water. Water and currents and tides and bouyancy had always fascinated me. After I learned to sail I instinctively studied the wind and how it traveled with it's own ebb and flow, like a tidal creek in the air. The moon shone down and sparkled on the calm water. A dog barked again from faraway.
I stood there alone and my mind raced. Where was she? I heard distant thunder and felt the coolness of an approaching squall. My hair tingled from the electricity in the air.
I walked back down the wooden pier and around the big trunks of the spreading oaks to my car. Acorns and dried leaves crunched underfoot. Dark clouds blew in with the first gusts and as I struggled with the top I felt the first cool raindrops.
I secured it and sat in the driver's seat. It started coming down in a torrent. It sounded like banshees wanted in and I thought of Odesseus tied to the mast of his ship listening to the wailing Harpies. I reached into the ashtray and finished what we had started earlier. Ten minutes later, it slowed to a soft patter on the canvas top. I started to get out when I saw headlights coming up the path.
The Cadillac pulled up close to the house and killed the headlights. Then an interior light was turned on and I saw Kami in the front seat. Another blonde was sitting in the back leaning over. There was a strange older looking man in the driver's seat and as I watched he lifted what looked like a key to Kami's nose. Then he did the same to the other woman. And then one for himself. The other blonde, Dolly, I presumed got out of the car and slammed the door. She was tall and a bit heavy, with a lion's mane of swept back hair. She had on tight lycra pants and from what I could see she did justice to her name. She went inside.
I started to get out and announce myself but my hand froze on the handle as I saw Kami lean over and kiss him. Not a small goodbye kiss, either. This was a long, sensuous kiss that meant business. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. I closed my eyes and had to will myself to stay calm.
She got out of the car after a few minutes and as he left, I got out and walked toward her and when she saw me her jaw dropped.
"He's just a friend," she said. "Don't be mad. He's just a friend."
We stood there facing each other.
"Don't tell Jeff," she said in a pleading voice.
"Please don't tell Jeff."
I was starting to lightly tremble and I wasn't sure whether it was from rage or from heartbreak.
"Sure. I won't say a word. Ever," I said and turned to get back to the car. I got in the driver's seat and then she was beside me, her long fingers clutching the door frame.
"Go then! Just leave," she shouted at me. "Fuck you and fuck Jeff, too!"
Please start, please start, please start was running through my addled brain like a mantra and on the second try the starter spun and the engine roared to life. She stepped back and I took off down the path.
"Don't you ever talk to me again," she shouted .
And then I was on the main road and then I40 and it felt like my mind was exploding. I missed the turnoff and had to go 15 miles out of the way. I finally pulled into Carolina Beach and crawled into bed. But sleep did not come that night.

rm_1hotwahine 64F
21091 posts
4/13/2006 9:02 pm

Damn. Now I'm going to have to go backwards and read your other stuff.

Yeah, I'm still [blog 1hotwahine]

sparkee58 replies on 4/14/2006 1:19 am:
yea. sorry. it all connects.

rm_1hotwahine 64F
21091 posts
4/14/2006 2:51 am

I meant because it was good, lol.

Yeah, I'm still [blog 1hotwahine]

sparkee58 replies on 4/14/2006 3:05 am:
thanks. this one should be finished in about a week.

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