Chapter Twenty
     The next morning Earl was tiring of looking at his clock. He had memorized Simone's message, but went into the bathroom to read it again. "Sat AM" didn't give him much to work with, and Earl wasn't sure if she meant eight in the morning or ten. It was now a little after seven thirty, but the minutes had been extending and dragging for the last two hours.
     Earl lit a cigarette, and noticed that he was running out. He didn't smoke much, he told himself, only when he was wired. He decided to run to the liquor store and buy another pack, and then when he got back maybe it would be time to call Simone.
     He pulled his boots out from under the bed and with them came Simone's black stocking from the earlier night. He picked up it, feeling its sheerness and remembering her foot, and tucked it safely away in his nightstand. He finished putting on his boots and walked out to his car. He pulled a u-turn from the curb, easy to do on a Saturday morning, and went to the convenience store, which he knew would be open.
     When he got back he looked at the clock and it was a few minutes before eight. Earl walked back to the bathroom and read her note, and then splashed on a little after-shave.
     He sat back on the bed, took a hit from his pipe and a quick slug of whiskey, and dialed the number.
     Simone answered immediately, almost before it had rung.
     "Hey, it's me: Earl."
     "I thought it was."
     "I got your note," he said uselessly. "How are you feeling?"
     "Fine, why?"
     "Well, after last night I was worried that you'd be all hung over and shit, and not feeling too good."
     "That's sweet of you," Simone said. "But I'm okay."
     "Glad to hear it."
     "Earl," she started. "Are you busy?"
     "No, not really. Just talkin' to you."
     "Can you come over and pick me up? I've got nothing to do all day, and Perris is busy with his class and fraternity and stuff. If you're free, maybe we could hang out or something."
     "I'd love it," Earl said. After his refusal last night to get her wired, he had a pretty good idea what she wanted to do. "When do you want me to swing by?"
     "I'll be ready by the time you get here," she said. "I promise. Just come around back and knock on my door."
     They hung up and Earl let out a whoosh of air. He knew what he was getting into, but didn't. If he was right, this would be the end of his relationship with Perris, but that didn't bother Earl too much: Perris wasn't really a friend of his, anyway, and had pretty much always treated Earl as if he were the redheaded half-brother.
      Earl took a moment to wash his face and brush his teeth, again, and splashed on a bit more after shave. He got in the car, stopped to get some gas, and drove to Simone's.
      As she promised, she was ready when he knocked on her door. She was wearing a long-sleeved white cotton T-shirt, some tennis shoes, and a short denim skirt. There was a peach sweater tied around her neck, the arms hiding her small breasts.
      "Here you are," she said, and stepped out of the door.
      "And you, too. You look wonderful."
      "Thanks." From her tone, Earl could tell that she was used to hearing that. Hell, he thought, she had every reason to be.
      "You look much better than I thought you would this early. I'm usually all draggy and shit in the morning."
      "I've been up for hours," Simone said. She didn't need to say that she'd been waiting for his call, and Earl wondered if he'd passed or failed some test she may have been holding. Since she was here, he figured he hadn't failed too badly.
      "So what'll we do?" he asked as he led her to the car. She paused at the door, and Earl realized that he was supposed to open it for her. He did, and she slid in without a word.
      He started the car and Simone was studying her face in a small pocket mirror. "Any ideas?" he asked.
      "Oh, I don't know," she sighed. "Whatever."
      Earl realized that she was going to play this hard. She obviously wanted to get wired, but didn't want to tell Earl that. She was waiting for him to offer it, and then would probably make him talk her into it. He wondered if he should tease her with it or not, and thought it might be fun to see how long she would go before she broke down.
      "Let's go get something to eat," he said, and he thought he saw a ripple of disappointment cross her face. "What do you want?"
      "I'm not too hungry," she said. "But if you are, I guess..."
      "I'm not hungry at all."
      "We could go to your place," she suggested. "Maybe we can find something to do there."
      Earl laughed to himself. There was so much to do back at his room in the Single Spire. They could get high, they could sit on the bed and talk, they could fuck, or they could play Monopoly. Since Simone knew exactly what awaited them there, there was no challenge in figuring this one out.
      On the way back to the motel, Simone asked Earl about Vicky and the whole Scientology thing.
      "I don't know much about it," he said. "Just what she's told me and, y'know, what I've heard. I think it's pretty whacked, and I think they're playing games with her head with all this Danger business."
      "Me, too. Are you going to do anything about it?"
      "I don't know. It's not really my business. She can do what she wants, and maybe it's good for her. She'll find out, one way or the other, I guess."
      "Are you going to give her that money she wanted, the twenty-five hundred."
      "I don't know how," Earl said. "I don't have it, if that's what you're asking. I'd like to help her out, but that's a lot of money."
      "I know. That's what I was thinking." Simone settled back in her seat and watched the traffic outside her window. "She's really cute, though. Very open and innocent. I'd hate to think of something happening to her."
      "Uh-huh. That'd suck. She told me she thought you were pretty."
      "She did?" The words indicated surprise, but Simone made it sound like a practiced response. She turned to look at Earl. "What do you think?"
      "We're not talking about me," he said, and Simone pouted.
      "That's not fair."
      "And you don't wanna know what I think."
      A pleased grin dabbed Simone's mouth, and she went back to watching the cars. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't."
      Earl let the subject drop, but Simone needed to push it. "Y'know," she said, "I find you pretty scary."
      "Scary? Why's that?"
      Simone turned in her seat to look at Earl and studied him a moment. "Well, first there's your size. You're a big man, much bigger than me and bigger than Perris, too. You could do anything, and I couldn't stop you."
      "You think I'm gonna attack you?" Earl asked, incredulous.
      "No, but you could. And you might."
      "I promise I won't attack you," Earl said. He wasn't sure if she was really afraid he would, but it was an odd thing to hear. "And I don't like thinking you think I might."
      "Then there's the whole thing about how you live. It's not normal," Simone said. "You live on the outskirts of society and I don't understand that at all. Your home, your habits, everything about you is like a rebel thing. I find that very scary, that you don't live the way I do."
      "I don't think I'm a rebel," Earl said. "It's just how I am."
      "That's the thing. You're who you are and it's not like anyone I've ever known. That's scary."
      "I'm sorry," Earl said. "I don't want to scare you."
      "I didn't say I didn't like it."
      Earl let that drop and pulled off the freeway. They were only about five minutes away from the motel now and Earl reflected on how Perris hadn't come up at all in their conversation. He still hadn't by the time Earl parked the car out on the curb.
      Earl got out and saw that Simone was still sitting there, waiting for him to open her door. He did so, and she extended her long and shapely legs, and when Earl looked up he saw that she'd been watching him. He walked to the rear of the car, opened the trunk, and took out his cigar box.
      "We had that with us all this time?" Simone asked.
      "Never leave home without it," Earl said, slipping a hand around her waist. Simone twisted free of the embrace and Earl didn't pursue it any farther. He walked her to his door, opened it, and she darted into the room. Earl closed the door and Simone was already in the bathroom, closing that door behind her.
      Earl set his cigar box on the nightstand and helped himself to a slug of whiskey while waiting for Simone to return. When she did, her hair was brushed and a fresh coat of lipstick enhanced her lips.
      "My note was still on your mirror," she said. "I wiped it off."
      "Probably a good idea," Earl said, and he regretted the lapse. He was very discreet, and hadn't thought of the note as compromising. Now that he thought of it, it certainly was. "Do you mind if I get wired?" he asked.
      Earl waited for her answer, enjoying himself. If she were going to go through with this, she was going to ask for it. He didn't want any of this "he made me" bullshit, or "he talked me into it" crap. Simone was an adult, very much an adult, and he was enjoying seeing her squirm.
      "It's fine with me, go ahead," she said. There was a tremble in her voice which didn't match the haughty look she was adopting. "Do whatever you want."
      She settled down at the foot of the bed and watched as Earl opened the box and took out the vial and syringe. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye, and she was watching him with a mix of dread and awe. He smiled at her as he turned around and went to the bathroom to fix the shot.
      "You want anything, help yourself," he shouted from the sink. He'd finished the preparation and walked back into his room. Simone, who'd been watching him, looked quickly away and at the curtained window.
      Earl sat down on the bed beside her and tucked one large leg under himself. He pulled off his belt and slid up his sleeve. Simone got up and wandered to the tiny refrigerator and took out a bottle of Coke. "Mind if I have some?" she asked, and Earl shook his head.
      When Earl shot up, he hollered. He deftly removed the needle from his arm and began beating his chest and whimpering. Some of it was added for show, and as he rode the intense explosion of the crystal in his bloodstream, he watched Simone who was biting her lip watching him.
      A minute or two later, heart pounding, a wide smile plastered on his face, and feeling bulletproof, Earl held up the needle and asked Simone if she wanted one.
      She looked at the needle instead of at Earl, and sat quietly down on the foot of the bed. "Maybe," she said. "Just a little one."
      "You sure?" he teased.
      Her resolve hardened. "Yeah. Shoot me up."
      Earl went to the bathroom and prepared a fix for Simone. He didn't make it as strong as his, but a little stronger than he'd given her last time. He was careful to wash the needle and wiped it in some bleach he'd picked up that morning at the store.
      "It's all clean and ready," he said, returning to the room.
      "Thank you so much," Simone gushed. Now that she'd made her decision, she was acting as if she were to enjoy it and already had a smile on her face. "You're so sweet to do this for me."
      She took off her shoes and spun around to lay down on the bed. She lay her left arm out, away from her body, and told Earl she was ready. He knelt down beside her, his back to the door, and took hold of her arm. He slid her sleeve up, exposing the elbow, and slipped his belt around her thin bicep.
      A few seconds later a vein emerged, and Earl could see the tiny prick from the last shot. He glanced up at Simone, who was eyeing the vein, and laid the needle against the pulsing thread. "You sure?" he asked.
      "Yes, Earl. Please," she said, and he jabbed the needle into her vein and waited for her blood to slip up the needle and into the syringe. When it did, he emptied the needle into her arm and pulled it out as quickly as he could.
      He watched her face and just like the last time, it immediately contorted into an orgasmic grimace. Her dark eyes, even blacker now with the dilated pupils, flashed and burned with an ebony fire and Simone cried out in uncontrollable reaction to the drug invading her brain.
      "Oh, baby!" she cried and the face she gave to turned to Earl was frozen with pleasure and fear. Earl knew the feeling well, the skyrocketing roller coaster that had no end in sight, and he reached out and took her hand.
      She squeezed it with a manic intensity, and then began convulsing as the waves and oceans of living pleasure spread from her veins through her body. Maybe because it was a stronger dose, maybe it was the security Simone felt in the absence of Vicky, but her paroxysms of joy were far less restrained than they had been the last time.
      She writhed on the bed like a voodoo priestess possessed by angry, active demons. She flung her legs about like whips, and hugged her knees and rolled from side to side. A second later, she couldn't contain that, and threw herself at Earl and dug her fingernails through his shirt and into his chest. Her head was thrown back, exposing her throat, then her chin was locked against her own chest.
      "Oh God! Oh God!" She looked at Earl and the smile on her face nearly ripped her porcelain skin apart. She sat on her knees and hugged herself, then slid her hands beneath her T-shirt and caressed and raked her stomach. Earl stopped watching her for signs of danger, she was past that now, and settled down to watch the rush play itself out. He took a swig of whiskey, and saw Simone curl into a small ball and begin rolling on the bed.
      A second later she released herself from her grasp and flung herself face down on the bed. She tortured her hair, then slid her hands beneath her and began bending her knees and kicking. She writhed, now, sliding herself against the bedcover, rubbing herself as deeply into the bed as she could, and her skirt toyed with her hips and her T-shirt began bunching just under her breasts.
      Earl knew that Simone had expected this. He'd known from the moment he picked her up that she'd dressed just for this occasion, and her questioning in the car was all part of her insistence on getting his attention. He had to admit it worked, and as he watched her roll over onto her back and pull her knees up to her chest, he wondered if it was mostly an act, one that she would excuse by blaming it on the drugs.
      In any case, he enjoyed the view. Her skirt was now bunched up around her hips and it was no longer a secret that she was wearing wispy black lace panties. She was again stroking her legs, inside and out, and then running her hands under her shirt when Earl reached out to take her hands and try to control her a little.
      "Hey," he said, holding her tiny soft hands together and between his own large and calloused ones. "Don't scratch yourself. You'll leave marks."
      She looked over at him with a look of benevolence and rapture, and smiled to show her thanks. She was still more like a wild animal than a studied and controlled Simone, though, and pulled her hands from his with a strength he hadn't expected. Instead of continuing to rub herself, though, she took Earl's hands and forced them against her flat and heaving stomach. "You do it, then," she cried, and began moving his hands up and down her torso.
      Earl waited no longer. He pushed her shirt up, exposing her breasts and her turgid, marble-sized nipples. She arched her back and hissed and Earl grabbed her breasts and began kneading the small warm handfuls of soft flesh.
      He cupped one breast in one hand and began sucking on it, using his other hand to untie and remove his boots. He fumbled with the waistband of his pants while she pulled off her top and slipped her skirt and underwear down and off her legs. When Earl took off his shirt and stood up to remove his pants, Simone closed her eyes and jammed her hands between her tightly-clenched legs. He lay down next to her, grabbed her, grabbed her ass and buried his tongue deep in her mouth.
      Kissing Simone had never been like kissing Vicky, who was tentative and reserved. Simone, especially now, was wild; forceful and consuming. The good side and bad side of Earl's mouth no longer mattered, and he was beyond any sense of pain himself. At some time his scab had ripped off, and a patina of blood decorated Simone's face and later, most of her body.
      Their lovemaking was brutal without being violent, a solid and definite thing without tentativeness or restraint. It was passion to an extreme Earl had never before felt, and as he mounted her and looked in her face he kissed her over and over.
      Simone responded with a furor of her own, and Earl thought he would be broken in half by her wild and unrestrained bucking. Her hips rose with his and she was impaling herself on him as much and as hard as he was shoving himself in her. They panted and exchanged kisses, he climaxed and never stopped assaulting her body. For three hours they tortured and devoured each other, and Earl had never had any sex like this.
      He spent the afternoon memorizing her dark, crinkly nipples and the neatly trimmed pubic hair she let stay in a small patch between her hips. He studied the curve of her throat and the angular, demanding presence of her collar bones, and even nuzzled and kissed the tiny white feet he'd thought about for days. They rolled on the bed and over each other all afternoon, and finally Earl was spent.
      He lay with her head against his shoulder and gently stroked her side down to her hip. Simone eventually stopped kissing him, stopped running her fingers through his large and hairy stomach and chest, stopped using her mouth to spur him on to further and harder erections.
      It was growing dark outside, and was darker inside when had their final round. Simone, poised on all fours, took Earl's hardest and deepest thrusts with what seemed to be a final, desperate attempt to wring every last atom of pleasure from the day. When Earl climaxed, for the fourth time that day, she lay on her stomach, spent and drained, and Earl could no longer do anything but breathe and hold her close.
      Before she closed her eyes to rest, she kissed him one last time. He made it the longest kiss of the day, and the only one with feeling.