Funland - By Richard Laymon Page 0,126

He tossed his robe over the back of a chair. He turned off the light and got into bed.

The glowing face of the clock on his nightstand showed eleven-fifteen. Half an hour before time to get dressed and sneak out.

The minutes crawled by.

His mind seethed with fevered images. Tanya and Shiner. Their faces, their bodies, their smells, their voices. Shiner and Tanya. And detours into memories of the troll falling from the Ferris wheel, Tanya straightening his broken legs, Jeremy earlier snapping the guy’s finger to pay him back for striking Shiner. Detours into Jasper’s Oddities, Cowboy shaking the jar of the fetus, the huge awful spider, the leathery remains of the mummy, Cowboy’s wisecracks, the chase and the fight and jerking the shirt off the wild girl and feeling her breasts. A detour to Karen dancing at the party, sweaty in her transparent bra and panties. A detour to the dry, amused voice of the troll calling Tha’s a fack from the darkness under the boardwalk. Every detour led him back, soon, to Tanya. To Shiner. The thoughts of Shiner hurt him with guilt and loss. The thoughts of Tanya strained him with hard desire. He wanted her, he ached for her. He felt dirty for choosing her instead of Shiner. And afraid.

The sound of footfalls in the hallway released Jeremy from the dark turmoil of his thoughts. He heard a door close, running water, the flush of the toilet, and finally his mother’s footsteps passing his door as she went to her bedroom.

Eleven-thirty-five.

He waited for the minutes to pass, his mind occupied now with thoughts of sneaking out, but sometimes slipping into fearful wonder about what might happen in his rendezvous with Tanya.

At a quarter to twelve he rolled silently out of bed. He stuffed his pajamas and robe under the covers. Naked and shaking, he knelt beside the bed and reached beneath it for his clothes. He sat on the carpet and put them on.

Then he crept to his door. He eased it open. The hallway was dark, even in front of his mother’s room. But he suspected she hadn’t fallen asleep. Holding his breath, pulse pounding in his head, he trailed his fingertips along the wall to help guide him, and made his way forward, the rubber soles of his shoes silent on the floor.

At the front door he slipped the guard chain off its runner and lowered it gently. He turned the latch. The tongue of the dead bolt made a quiet thump. He turned the knob, swung the door slowly open, stepped onto the porch, and closed the door behind him.

Beyond the porch screens, the street was bright with lamplight. A few cars were parked along the curbs. One of them might be Tanya’s. He knew he was early, though. Maybe she hadn’t arrived yet.

Maybe she wouldn’t come.

The thought filled him with hope, ripped him with agony.

He shut the screen door carefully and stepped down the stairs.

If she doesn’t come, he told himself, I could walk over to Shiner’s.

Look, I changed my mind. Can I come in?

Hell, I don’t even know her address.

Across the street, the headlights of a parked car shot bright beams and then went dark.

Jeremy’s heart jumped.

He quickened his pace. At the sidewalk he glanced back at his house, half-hoping to see lights bloom in the windows, the door fly open, his mother rush out yelling, And just what do you think you’re doing, young man?

The house was dark. He’d made a clean escape.

He stepped into the street. An arm waved to him from the open driver’s window of the car that had flashed its lights. He returned the wave. He rushed around the car’s front, noting that it was an old Ford LTD. The passenger door swung open as he approached it, but the interior remained dark. The dome light was either out of order or Tanya had disconnected it on purpose.

Stopping beside the door, he crouched and peered in. Tanya was shrouded in shadow, her features masked and blurred, but familiar enough to wrench Jeremy’s breath away. He dropped onto the passenger seat. He tugged the door shut.

“Here,” Tanya said.

He scooted toward her. The engine was running, but not smoothly. He could feel the car vibrating under him. Though the windows were rolled down, unpleasant odors of gasoline and stale cigarette smoke lingered in the air. And there was another scent, musky and humid, strange to him but somehow making him think of jungle nights and savages. It came

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