The Voice of the Night

7

From Ranch Road they turned onto a dirt track that was barely visible in the moonlight. Roy led the way. Over the crown of the first hill, the track became a narrow footpath. A quarter of a mile farther on, the footpath turned north, and they continued west, pushing their bicycles through coarse grass and sandy soil.

Less than a minute after they left the path, Roy’s bike light went out.

Colin stopped at once, heart leaping wildly like a startled rabbit in a cage. “Roy? Where are you? What’s wrong? What’s happened, Roy?”

Roy walked out of the darkness, into the pale fan of light that spread in front of Colin’s bicycle. “We’ve got two more hills to cross before we reach the drive-in. No sense struggling with the bikes any further than this. We’ll leave them here and pick them up on the way back.”

“What if somebody steals them?”

“Who?”

“How should I know? But what if somebody does?”

“An international ring of bicycle thieves with undercover operatives in every town?” Roy shook his head, making no effort to conceal his exasperation. “You worry about more goddamned things than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“If somebody stole them, we’d have to walk all the way home-five or six miles, maybe more.”

“For Christ’s sake, Colin, no one even knows the bikes are here! No one’s going to see them, let alone steal them.”

“Well, what if we come back and can’t find them in the dark?” Colin asked.

Roy grimaced, and he looked not just disgusted but demonic. It was a trick of light; the headlamp’s glow illuminated only the sharp edges of his features, leaving most of his face in darkness, so that he looked distorted, less than human.

“I know this place,” Roy said impatiently. “I come here all the time. Trust me. Now will you come on? We’re missing the movie.”

He turned and walked away.

Colin hesitated until he realized that if he didn’t leave the bike, Roy would leave him. He didn’t want to be alone in the middle of nowhere. He put the bike on its side and switched off the lamp.

The darkness enfolded him. He was suddenly acutely aware of a thousand eerie songs: the incessant croaking of toads. just toads? Perhaps something much more dangerous than that. The many strange voices of the night rose in a screeching chorus.

Fear washed through him like bile spreading from a pierced gut. The muscles in his throat grew tight. He had difficulty swallowing. If Roy had spoken to him, he could not have replied. In spite of the cool breeze, he began to sweat.

You’re no longer a child, he told himself. Don’t act like a baby.

He desperately wanted to bend down and switch on the bike light again, but he didn’t want Roy to discover that he was afraid of the dark. He wanted to be like Roy, and Roy wasn’t afraid of anything.

Fortunately Colin was not entirely blind. The bike light was not terribly powerful, and his eyes adapted quickly to a world without it. Milky moonlight spilled across the rolling land. He could see Roy loping swiftly up the hillside ahead.

Colin tried to move; he couldn’t. His legs seemed to weigh a thousand pounds each.

Something hissed.

Colin tilted his head. Listened.

The hissing again. Louder. Closer.

Something rustled through the grass a few inches from his foot, and Colin bolted. It might have been only a harmless toad, but it gave him the motivation he needed to get moving.

He caught up with Roy, and a few minutes later they reached the slope behind and above the Fairmont. They descended halfway down the hill and sat on the ground, side by side in the dark.

Below them, the parked cars in the bowl of the drive-in pointed westward. The movie screen faced them, and beyond lay the main highway to Santa Leona.

On the giant screen a man and a woman were walking on the beach at sunset. Although there was no speaker on the hillside and therefore no sound, Colin could see from the close-ups that the actors were talking animatedly, and he wished he could read lips.

After a while Colin said, “I’m beginning to think this was a dumb idea-coming all the way out here to see a movie we can’t even hear.”

“You don’t need to hear this one,” Roy said.

“If we can’t hear it, how can we follow the plot?”

“People don’t go to the Fairmont for plot. All they want to see here is tits and ass.”

Colin gaped at Roy. “What are you talking about?”

“The Fairmont’s got a good location. No houses nearby. You can’t see the screen from the highway. So they play soft-core porn.”

“They play what?” Colin asked.

“Soft-core pom. Don’t you know what that is?”

“No.”

“You got a lot to learn, good buddy. Fortunately, you have a good teacher. Namely, me. It’s pornography. Dirty movies.”

“Y-you mean we’re going to see people… doing it?”

Roy grinned. His teeth and eyes caught the moonlight. “That’s what we’d see if this was hard-core,” Roy said. “But it’s only soft stuff.”

“Oh,” Colin said. He didn’t have the slightest idea what Roy meant.

“So all we get to see,” Roy explained, “is naked people pretending to do it.”

“They’re… really naked?”

“Sure.”

“Not completely naked.”

“Completely.”

“Not the girls.”

“Especially the girls,” Roy said. “Pay attention to the movie, dummy.”

Colin looked at the screen, afraid of what he might see.

The couple on the beach was kissing. Then the man stepped back, and the woman smiled, and she caressed herself, teasing him, and then she reached behind her back and unhooked the bikini top she was wearing and let it slide slowly down her arms, and suddenly her bare breasts bobbled into view, large and firm and upswept, jiggling deliciously, and the man touched them-

“Yeah, get her. Get her good,” Roy said.

— and the man stroked the breasts, squeezed them, and the woman closed her eyes and seemed to be sighing, and the man gently thumbed the swollen nipples.

Colin had never been so embarrassed in his life.

“What a set she’s got,” Roy said enthusiastically.

Colin wished he were somewhere else. Anywhere else. Even back with the bicycles, in the dark, alone.

“Doesn’t she have a terrific set?”

Colin wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

“You like that set?”

Colin couldn’t speak.

“Like to suck on those?”

He wished Roy would shut up.

On the screen, the man bent down and sucked on the woman’s breasts.

“Like to smother yourself in those?”

Although the movie both shocked and embarrassed Colin, he couldn’t look away from it.

“Colin? Hey, Colin!”

“Huh?”

“What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“Her set.”

On the screen the man and the woman were running up the beach toward a grassy spot where they could lie down. Her breasts bounced and swung.

“Colin? You forget how to talk?”

“Why do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s more fun if we do. We don’t have any sound up here, so we can’t hear them talking about it.”

The couple had stretched out on the grass, and the man was kissing her breasts again.

“You like her knockers?”

“Jesus, Roy.”

“Do you?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Well, sure. They’re nice.”

“What kind of guy wouldn’t like that set?”

Colin didn’t respond.

“Maybe a queer wouldn’t like them,” Roy said.

“I like them,” Colin said thinly.

“What do you like?”

“Did you forget what we’re talking about?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I said it already. I like them.”

“What do you like?” Roy persisted.

On the screen: erect nipples.

“What’s wrong with you?” Colin said.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“You’re weird, Roy.”

“You’re the one who’s afraid to say it.”

“Say what?”

“What do you call them?”

“Jeez.”

“What do you call them?”

“Okay, okay. If it’ll make you shut up, I’ll say it.”

“So say it.”

“I like her set,” Colin said. “There. Happy now?”

Colin was blushing like crazy. He was glad it was dark.

“Give me another word,” Roy said.

“Huh?”

“Something besides ‘set.’ ”

“Will you buzz off?”

On the screen: breasts wet with saliva.

Roy put a hand on his arm and squeezed, hurting him a little. “Another word.”

“You say it. You seem to know all the words.”

“And you’ve got to learn them.”

“What’s such a big deal about talking dirty?”

“Is little Colin afraid his mommy will hear him and wash out his mouth with soap?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Colin said, struggling to hold on to his dignity.

“So if you aren’t afraid of Mommy, give me another word. Look up there at that screen and tell me what you see that you like.”

Colin nervously cleared his throat. “Well… I like her breasts.”

“Breasts? Jesus, Colin! Breasts are what you find on a chicken!”

“Well, a woman’s are called that, too,” Colin said defensively.

“By doctors maybe.”

“By everyone.”

Roy tightened his grip on Colin’s arm, dug his sharp fingernails into the flesh.

“Dammit, let go!” Colin said. “You’re hurting me.”

He tried to pull away but couldn’t free himself. Roy was very strong.

Roy’s face was only partly visible in the frosty moonlight, but Colin didn’t like what little he was able to see. The eyes were wide, piercing, fevered; Colin imagined he could feel heat radiating from them. Roy’s lips were drawn back in a mirthless grin, as if he were going to snarl like an attack dog.

Because of something extraordinary in those eyes, something eerie and powerful but indefinable, and because of the intensity with which the other boy spoke, Colin realized that this bizarre conversation held tremendous importance for Roy. He was not just teasing Colin; he was challenging him. This was a battle of wills, and in some way that Colin could not grasp, the outcome would determine their future together. He also sensed, without truly understanding why, that if he didn’t win this contest he would live to regret it with all his heart.

Roy squeezed harder.

Colin said, “Ahhhh, Jeez. Please let go.”

“Give me another word.”

“What’s the point?”

“Give me another word.”

“Roy, you’re hurting me.”

“Give me another word and I’ll let go.”

“I thought you were my friend.”

“I’m the best friend you’ll ever have.”

“If you were my friend you wouldn’t hurt me,” Colin said between clenched teeth.

“If you were my friend, you’d say the word. What the hell does it cost you to say it?”

“And what does it cost you if I don’t say it?”

“I thought you said I could trust you, that you’d do anything I wanted, like a friend should do. Now you won’t even talk with me about this lousy movie.”

“Okay, okay,” Colin said. And he actually felt a little guilty because it was such a small thing that Roy wanted from him.

“Say ‘tits’ for me.”

“Tits,” Colin said thickly.

“Say ‘knockers’ for me.”

“Knockers.”

“Say ‘boobs.’ ” “

“Boobs.”

“Tell me you like her tits.”

“I like her tits.”

Roy let go. “Was that so difficult?”

Colin gingerly massaged his arm.

“Hey,” Roy said, “wouldn’t you like to wear her tits for earmuffs?”

“You’re gross.”

Roy laughed. “Thank you.”

“I think you drew blood.”

“Don’t be a baby. I just squeezed a little. Wow! Look at the screen!”

The man had pulled off the bottom half of the girl’s bikini. He was caressing her bare buttocks, which were very white against her tan back and thighs, so white that they looked like the plump halves of a pale nut surrounded by soft brown shell.

“I could eat ten pounds of that ass for breakfast,” Roy said.

The man on the screen was naked, too. He stretched out on his back, and the girl straddled him.

“They won’t show us the good part,” Roy said. “Not at the Fairmont. They won’t show her getting it.”

The camera concentrated on her bouncing breasts and on her gorgeous face, which was contorted with feigned ecstasy.

“Does that make you stiff?” Roy asked.

“Huh?”

“Does it give you a hard-on?”

“You’re weird.”

“You afraid of that word, too?”

“I’m not afraid of any words.”

“So say it.”

“jeez.”

“Say it.”

“Hard-on.”

“You got one?”

Colin was almost sick with embarrassment.

“You got a hard-on, good buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Know what it’s called?”

“Marvin.”

Roy laughed. “That’s funny. Real quick. I like that.”

The other boy’s approval was a palliative. Colin’s fear subsided just a bit.

“Do you really know what it’s called?” Roy asked.

“A penis.”

“That’s as bad as ‘breast.”’

Colin said nothing.

“Say ‘cock’ for me.”

Colin said it.

“Very good,” Roy said. “Excellent. Before this movie’s over, you’ll know all the words, and you’ll feel comfortable with them, just like I do. Stick with me, kid, and I’ll bring you up right. Hey, look! Look what he’s doing to her now! Look, Colin! What a popper! Look!”

Colin felt as if he were on a skateboard, rocketing down a long, steep hill, totally out of control. But he looked.