High School Scandals

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After school that day, Dallas didn’t go home right away. He drove over to the building where Solomon Shapiro had an office, and went in to talk to the lawyer.

“They’re holding off,” Shapiro. said. “They’re not going to bring your case to court for some time-if ever. Like man, the guy you banged up worst, turns out he’s a muscle for hire, and he’s got a record himself. Him, they picked to be the complainant down at the courthouse they’re a little pissed off at Harry Sladermann, and in case you don’t know who Harry Sladermann is, he’s the gonn if Craig Collins pays like a detective. And in case you don’t know who he is …”

“I know, already,” Dallas said. “Was this Sladermann one of the guys who jumped me?”

Fingering his beard, Shapiro said, “No, from what I hear. But he’s the guy who pays the other guys, out of his agency. You’re being followed everywhere, you know.”

Dallas nodded. “I’m bugged too-at least my phone and my house. I wouldn’t doubt they’ve got the VW wired by now also. Did you hear about the kids this morning, staging a protest?”

“Didn’t I? But even if you didn’t have anything to do with it, and I’m not saying you did-the parade IS going to make some more parents get uptight about you.”

Shrugging, Dallas said, “I can’t help that. I’m only glad I got to the kids before the cops showed up. That dummy Kingston called them first thing.”

“He’ll call the PTA too.”

“Let him. I’m determined to hang on through the year, at least. Then I might move on to a junior college; I understand some slots are opening.”

Shapiro stroked his moustache, fingered his beads. “Like the nice young slots opening for you around town here?”

Blinking, Dallas said, “What the hell do you mean?”

The lawyer held up both hands. “Look, you’re my buddy. If you’re sticking all that sweet young ass at the school-and I mean all the juicy young goyem-I say, may your strength last forever. But my advice to you is this: don’t get caught baby. Somebody is pushing rumors around town that you’re some kind of pied piper, only by you, it’s young chicks that follow, you to dens of iniquity where the reefer smoke could be cut with a butter knife.” Shapiro shook his head. “You know, I haven’t heard it called that for years and years reefer.”

Leaning forward in his chair, Dallas said, “None of the kids do grass while I’m around, and I took my last hits in Nam, which was one hell, of a long time ago.

But I’ll go so far as to admit to you and to you only-that I’m swinging with some of the girls. The kids aren’t talking, so nobody really knows. It has to be rumor put out by Collins or some of his people.”

“Hoo-hah,” Shapiro said softly, “I should only have such rumors started about me. Some of the young chicks, yet-not one, or even two, but some. Okay, lover-only watch yourself at all times. With all this dreck coming down on you, and still you have to be the cocksman.”

Dallas said, “I know it’s crazy, man. But you don’t know; nobody knows, how those kids ball. It’s the greatest thing ever, so wild and far-out that I get turned on all over again,, just remembering some of the things they did with me and to me.”

The lawyer held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it I’m an officer of the court, like it says, but also because I might get more jealous. Split Dallas-and I’ll call you soon as I hear anything.”

“Just remember, I’m bugged. And it could happen to your phone too.”

“Let ‘em,” Shapiro said. “I’ll have those momsers talking to themselves, and answering back.”

When Dallas parked the bug at the drive-in, the cute carhop came sway-hipping over, right away. “Hi, Mr. Bradburn. Anything special you want?”

The rumors were spreading fast, he thought; this girl bad a certain inflection in her voice, and her offerings were far more obvious. He wondered if all women got fired up when they heard that a certain man was a swinger, if all of them felt some how challenged by that kind of guy. Maybe that was why Casanova scored so much; the chicks just kept coming to him, to see for themselves if all the things they had heard about him were true.

“Just a couple of fishwiches, please, with chips and a vanilla malt. I’ll eat here.”

He thought he could read a disappointed roll in her hips as she flipped away.

He listened to the acid music station for awhile, then turned to a local one.

The news came on, and the announcer was playing down the protest at the school that morning. Only a few kids, the radio said; just some troublemakers looking for any excuse. Easter vacation was coming up, the announcer reminded his audience, and kick would forget “all about demonstrations soon. He never mentioned why the kids had been out in the first place.

“Two fish,” said the cute carhop, “with extra goodies.” She was leaning down, showing him the cleft between her tits, and it all looked very good. If he hadn’t been balling so much lately…

But Dallas thought of another angle, and said, “The-extra goodies look terrific.”

“Oh, do you think so?”

“I’d have to check-closer, to be certain.”

She dimpled. “I get-off at eight.”

Dallas hesitated. “Not tonight, okay? I’d like to, but I’m jammed up to here with work I can’t cop out on. Really. But tomorrow night.”

“Would be groovy,” she smiled, and showed him the intriguing rhythm of her haunches as she strode away on other business.

Maybe he could pull the detectives off the real trail, he thought, realizing that he had been lucky as hell so far in avoiding them. If he took this girl out-and he didn’t even know her name-the people following him might think he was doing his thing with the carhop, and nobody else. He wouldn’t let them box him into some situation where they could squeeze him about it.

He had just finished off the fries and was making noises with the straw in the malted container when the man sauntered over to the VW and put an elbow on its roof.

Dallas said, “I don’t know you. If you stick a hand in here, I’m going to break your arm at the elbow.”

The man grunted and backed off a step, but not hurriedly. He said, “I know you, Bradburn. My name is Sladermann, and I’d like to talk to you. Okay if I come around the other side of the car and sit down with you?”

Dallas put the remains of his dinner on the car tray and tooted his horn. The cute girl came swiftly and he said to her, “Our date is set for tomorrow night at eight, darling. But take a real good look at this man, and be sure you remember his face, and the time he was here. Because if anybody causes our date to be broken, he’ll be the one.”

She pouted rich lips at Sladermann. “Don’t you dare.” Collecting the tray and her tip, she bounced away again.

“Now you can come sit down,” Dallas said.

The VW dipped under the man’s weight, and he turned uncomfortably to face Dallas after he sat down. “So you’re covered, but you won’t need the kid for a witness Bradburn. This is all business.”

Dallas looked the man over, registering the broken nose and the shrewd eyes, the lips that announced scar tissue inside. Sladermann was fortyish, with big shoulders and a pastey skin. There was gold in his mouth; it showed when he talked.

He said, “You’re slick mister. You lose tails and you don’t do anything that can get you burned. I don’t even know how you figured you’re being watched. And I know you’re a pretty rough boy, through that mess on the beach. Those four guys, they’d like another shot, though-a rematch, like.”

“Next time,” Dallas said, “I’ll kill a couple of them. That’s what the rematch will cost.”

Sladermann sighed. “You might do it, at that. Which is why I’m here. To talk business just between you and me Look, everybody needs a buck right? I mean, teaching English in high school is no way to get fat. I can offer you five big ones if you hang around two, three more weeks, then resign and leave town.”

Dallas said, “Five thousand dollars?”

“Tax free,” Sladermann added. “A going away present.”

“I don’t understand,” Dallas said. “How do you make any money out of that?”

Sladermann rubbed his broken nose. “It’s kind of complicated; let’s say I’ll do okay, personally.”

Dallas stared, thinking furiously. Nobody was willing to pay him to quit teaching here; they’d rather spend twice as much to force him out, to make him capitulate. Sladermann was being hired to get something usable on Dallas, some lever that could be used to fire him. Craig Collins was footing the bill, and happy to spend his money.

“Yeah,” Dallas said slowly, “I see it-You shake Collins down for-say, twice that much money, tell him you need it to buy witnesses, or more cops, or to plant something on me. When I resign, your job is done, and you’re richer than you would be if you chased me around for months and found nothing.”

Sladermann turned to face the windshield. “Something like that. It’s a good deal for you Bradburn. Traveling money, and nobody gets hurt-not even you. If I hang around long enough, I can find something on you. Or I can make sure something’s found.”

Dallas shook his head. “If Collins stands still for a long, dragged-out hustle.

I’d say he wants action right now, that he’s given you a deadline.”

The man sighed again. “Five big ones, that’s all I can go.”

“No way,” Dallas said. “And stay away from me Sladermann. Don’t push your boys on me again. I’m not kidding about that.”

Climbing heavily from the VW, Sladermann said, “You see me laughing? Think about things. Like guys that don’t have to get close to you. Think about that cute-girl and what if she got hit by a truck before your date tomorrow night.”

“Bullshit,” Dallas said, as the man started to walk away. “You don’t get paid that kind of money on this job.”

Sladermann kept going, finally disappearing between a couple of big cars at the other end of the drive-in lot. Dallas keyed the bug and pulled out, driving aimlessly while he tried to sort everything out in his head, while he reconvinced himself that he’d been right, and that Sladermann wouldn’t try to kill anybody, or even seriously hurt them. Himself excluded, Dallas conceded there had been the battle of the beach, and before that the skirmish of the locker room. There could be other, more successful incidents.

But murder? Not some carhop’s life, just to be used as a threat, not any friend of Dallas Bradburn. It was just possible that Collins would pay enough to have an accident arranged, but even that redneck might very well stop short of outright killing.

He pulled the VW off onto a side street and parked beneath a big oak tree. A car drove slowly past, pulled in to the curb and parked. It was a big, dark car, and nobody got out of it. Screw them, Dallas thought, and leaned his head back. He could really get worried over narcotics being planted on his person, or in his car, or in his home. It would be easy for someone to do. It would be rough, trying to talk his way out of a dope bust.

Eyes closed, he thought about that, about the sweet, lovely girls who thought so much, of him, and who might get themselves all screwed up fighting the fuzz if he was arrested and sent to jail.

Like delicious, wiggling little Susan Lee, who had showed him the way she was built, who had demonstrated that her cute cunt was only slightly larger than her asshole.

He had set the greasy knob of his hard, cock against that delicate little brown opening, and when he pushed gently, the girl responded by pushing back. Slowly but steadily the swollen head of his prick had slipped inside that tight ring.

And once the bulb was past the rubbery circle the shaft followed much more easily. It was scorching inside, and the sleeve of her anus compressed his prick, clung to the entire length of it as the heavymeat slid home.

“It’s-it’s in me all the way,” Susan had gasped. “Oh-oohh! Your cock is b-bigger than the others, but I can take it; it fills me up, though. Oh-wow.

Easy, Mr. Bradburn. Please, fuck me easy.”

He did, moving gently and with great tenderness as he fed his stiff rod in and out of her wiggling body. The sensation was marvelous, a squeezing and fondling of his cock that he hadn’t known until then, and he loved feeling the downy cheeks of her girlish ass when his crotch came against it.

Screwing her slowly, luxuriating in the new, different feelings, Dallas leaned over the girl and reached around her svelte hips. His hands caressed her belly, went to her almost hairless pussy and played over the wet mound as his prick moved back and forth, back and forth.

His fingertips found her clit, eased into her flaming cunt, stuck themselves deep and tickling into her vagina as he fucked Susan Lee in the ass. She arched up against him, moaning through clenched teeth and swinging her tits in little arcs. “F-fuck me, darling. Oohh! Oh, how wonderful to feel your big cock up my ass and my pussy is oohh! Alih, yes! Give me more, Mr. Bradburn-I’m about to come. I’m about to come.”

Dallas didn’t have to hurry, for the orgasm was building mightily in his own body, surging up powerfully from the factory of his testicles to come bombing out through the head of his spitting prick.

He squirted his come into her anus, packed that hot, tight tubing with all the force of his creamy, sticky discharge. The girl humped jerkily, quivered, and her knees buckled. Dallas had to hold her up by her pussy, for Susan had let her arms go limp.

Lowering her tenderly to the floor, he kept his prick shoved to the balls inside her ass, and it was good in there. It was slicker and wild and burning up, and the semen continued to seep from his locked-in cock. Susan Lee loved it, telling him so, clamping the cheeks of that beautiful ass around his shaft while he fingered wetly within her pussy.

Dallas’s hands dropped below the seat of the VW and he held onto them, remembering. His right hand touched something cool, and as he sat up, the memories dissolved swiftly. Blindly searching, his fingers felt all over the strange object, the little cellophane bag.

A plant. The very thing he had been worrying about, and that sly bastard Sladermann had dropped it in the car while he was trying to make his deal.

Maybe there had never been a deal, but only an opportunity to stash some dope where someone would find it.

When? Dallas looked around, stared back to the main street, then up at the car ahead. Damned soon, there’d be somebody along to find the grass He picked up the baggie, changed hands with it, and suddenly started the VW to race it away from the curb. The right front window was down on the dark car ahead, and he still couldn’t see anyone in it.

Dropping his own right window, Dallas leaned across the seat and fired the bag into the other car as he passed. He wound up the bug until its motor protested, getting around the next corner and back onto the thoroughfare. There, he slowed down and discovered that his hands were shaking.

The prowl car pulled him over at the little park. He had been expecting it, and climbed out while the cops were just opening the door of their own car. Hands on top the VW, feet back and spread, he waited for them. The short man shoved him aside and ducked into the bug, moving seats and feeling everywhere, ripping at the floor mats, slamming open the glove box. Only then did he turn to shake Dallas down personally.

“Clean,” he mumbled then. “The bastard is clean.

“Yeah,” the tall cop said, “and that’s about enough of this shit too. Go ahead mister. Sorry.”