Friday the 13th 3

Maybe she could explain it to him. She didn’t know if he would understand, but it was certainly worth a try. Look, Shelly, she imagined herself saying to him, just because I don’t want to go to bed with you doesn’t mean that I don’t like you as a person. It doesn’t mean that I’m rejecting you. Don’t you see that by putting me in that position, you’re putting me in the same unfair position that people have been putting you in all your life? They’ve looked at you and seen a kid who was overweight and they never bothered to look beyond that to find out who you really were. Well, it can be exactly like that for someone who looks the way I do. Have you ever thought of that? They look at me and all they see is a pretty face and a terrific body. Not that I’m complaining, but there’s a lot more to what I am than great legs, a tight ass, and nice tits. Just as there’s a lot more to what you are than chubby cheeks and love handles. You’d like me to see that, to recognize that there’s more to you than what you look like on the outside, but at the same time, you don’t seem to be willing to give me that same consideration!

When you look at me, Shelly, she imagined herself saying to him, what do you see? My pretty face? My tits? My legs? My ass? Do you think about who I really am, or do you think about what’s between my legs? What do you really know about me, anyway? Can’t you see that you’re victimizing me the same way people have been victimizing you? You like the way that feels? No? Then why are you doing it to me?

She sighed and continued walking down the path leading to the lake. The male

thing was especially hard for a young Hispanic woman. She had to deal with the whole Latino macho trip. In order to preserve her virtue, her desirability as a potential mate, she had to be a virgin. Yet, at the same time, she was subjected to countless assaults upon her virginity, and the rules of the game were clearly defined. It was all right for the guys to do whatever was necessary, short of outright rape, to try and get between her legs, but the only way that she could maintain their respect was to continue to resist them. If she relented and gave them what they wanted, she could be regarded as nothing more than a cheap slut. Anglos pulled the same kind of number, only in a much more subtle way.

Maybe she was expecting too much of Shelly to think that he could ever understand. He was probably in there right now, feeling sorry for himself and thinking that she was a bitch because she wouldn’t respond to him the way he wanted. And what about what she wanted? Or didn’t that matter? She felt like going in there and asking him if he’d still feel the same way if she were about fifty pounds heavier. Somehow, she doubted he’d look at her quite the same way then. Well, Shelly, she thought, it works both ways, you know.

Andy rolled from side to side experimentally in the net hammock, feeling it sway beneath him. There was a dubious expression on his face as he looked up at Debbie, standing over him.

“How do we do it?” he said.

“Well, first we take off our clothes,” she said, with a perfectly straight face, “then you get on top of me or I get on top of you.”

He grimaced wryly. “I know how to do it. I mean, how do we do it in a hammock?”

With a sly smile, Debbie removed her blouse. “I think you can figure something out,” she said.

“I’ll think of something,” Andy said as she came into his arms and the hammock started to sway from side to side.

Chuck stirred groggily on the couch in the living room. He glanced over at Chili, out like a light as she sprawled back against the couch next to him. He grinned. Good shit, man, he thought. It zonked both of us right out. He glanced around the room. Except for him and Chili, there was nobody else around. The room was dark and the fire was starting to die down. Stretching lazily, he got up off the couch, threw some more logs onto the fire, and went out the back door. He walked the short distance to the outhouse, opened the door, and pulled the light chain inside. The yellow bulb came on, and he looked around at the interior of the outhouse, grinning at the graffiti written on the walls. HELP! I’M BEING HELP PRISONER IN THE OUTHOUSE, one said. THROW DOWN A CAN OF AIR FRESHENER AND A ROPE! He chuckled, then turned around as he heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel behind him.

“Shelly?”

No answer.

He couldn’t see very far into the darkness. He shrugged, went into the outhouse, closed the door, and sat down. He pulled a joint out of his shirt pocket and lit up, inhaling deeply. As the first blast hit his lungs, the whole outhouse seemed to shake.

“Heavy shit!” he said, taking the joint out of his mouth and gazing at it appreciatively.

Then the outhouse shook again and he realized that it wasn’t the dope. Someone was leaning on the outhouse wall outside, rocking it back and forth violently.

“Who’s there?” Chuck shouted, feeling slightly alarmed. “Shelly, if this is another one of your tricks . . .”

A moment later, he was pulling up his pants and bolting out the door, looking all around angrily. There was no sign of anyone, but the door to the barn was slowly swinging closed, as if someone had just gone inside. Damn that Shelly, Chuck thought, him and his constant screwing around. Suddenly he turned and almost jumped out of his skin when he bumped right into Chili. He gave out a startled yell.

“Aaah!”

“It’s just me!” she said.

Chuck exhaled heavily. “Between you and Shelly, I’m lucky I haven’t had a heart attack already!”

“What’s butterbull up to now?” asked Chili.

“I don’t know,” said Chuck. “He just ducked into the barn.”

Chili grinned. “Come on, let’s give him some of his own medicine.”

She took his arm and pulled him toward the barn. As they entered the dark building, every shadowy form within suddenly looked ominous to Chuck. He started to get an attack of paranoia.

“I don’t think he’s in here,” he said uneasily, backing away slowly toward the door.

Chili made a face and grabbed his arm, pulling him back in. Chuck suddenly wasn’t sure that it was Shelly who had gone into the barn. He hadn’t actually seen him . . .

“Hey, maybe that wasn’t him, Chili . . .” he said nervously.

“Sssh!” She held a finger to her lips, and with her other hand, she picked up an iron crowbar. She crept forward and pushed open one of the stalls.