Chapter 8

Mark and Cindy had to leave the city for a time because of some family situation which they did not attempt to explain to Pete and Mary, who, in turn, did not ask questions, but, when the time came, simply drove them to the airport and saw them off.

When Pete and Mary returned home and entered the house, the phone was ringing. Mary answered and said hello several times. While Pete watched, she replaced the phone on its cradle and frowned.

"Wrong number, darling?" he asked.

She turned about. "You'll probably think I've lost my senses, but all I heard before the phone was hung up at the other end was a dog's bark."

Pete laughed nervously. "Hey, you don't suppose that's Rose's way of asking us over, do you?"

Mary shrugged and brushed her red hair away from her eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised. She's just nutty enough to do a thing like that now that Mark and Cindy, her next-door neighbors, have gone out of town."

"Oh, I thought you didn't really know her that well, darling!"

Mary brushed her hair out of her eyes again. "I don't. Not really, Pete. I know her mostly from hearing about her from Cindy and Mark and you."

Pete lighted a cigarette. "Well, the hell with her. I don't feel like... watching her thing today."

Mary smiled. "Her thing, honey? Is that what you said? Thing?"

"Her bit. Her sex thing. You know what I mean."

Mary's smile changed to a becoming frown. "I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "But I think I'd like you to take me over there sometime soon."

"No kidding?" he asked.

She crossed over the room and kissed him on the cheek suddenly. "Maybe I'd like to see what you've seen, honey. I have mixed feelings about it, I think, but... yes, I believe I would like to watch her fuck a dog. Do you suppose she would allow me to?"

Pete took a drag on his cigarette and snubbed it out in an ash tray. "We could try to induce her to put on her... little act for us."

"From what I've heard, it's no act. She likes having dogs screw her."

He nodded. "She does. Definitely. I was at a loss for the right word, so I said 'act'. I didn't mean she puts on an act."

"Let's have a few drinks and get in touch with her," Mary said, her voice sounding odd. "Maybe if I get about half-tight, I'll have enough courage to go there with you. If she'll let us come, I mean."

Pete moistened his lips. What Mary was saying made him nervous. "I'm not in the mood for... Rose and her sex thing, darling. Maybe later. By the way, that was a damned crazy thing, that dog barking over the phone. Why do you suppose she would do that?"

Mary shrugged. "Maybe she wants you to come to her place, honey. What else?"

"Want a drink?" he asked, changing the subject.

She seemed to be paying no attention to him. "Pete," she said thoughtfully, "do you realize we've lost our swap partners for a while?"

"Sure," he replied. "I thought of that when Mark called and told me they had to leave town for a time."

"Funny. I hadn't thought much about it. Now, we'll just have each other for kicks. Right?"

Pete grinned. "There's always Rose and her... lover."

Mary shivered. "Gads, I'd like to see that happen! I really would, but I'd like to see her balling the dog without her knowing I was watching. Do you think you could arrange it, honey?"

He smiled, but tensely. "You really have that dog thing on your mind, haven't you? I warn you, you'd better stop thinking about it if you don't want to be all hung up."

"I guess you're right, honey," Mary said softly. "Damn it. I wish you'd never mentioned it to me, Pete." She made a face. "Please give me the strongest damned drink you can fix, honey. I'm getting bugged."

"I just got through asking you if you'd like a drink, but you didn't hear me," he observed as he went to mix her a strong one. Bringing the glass back to where she was now seated on the sofa, he gave it to her and stood in front of her. "Here's to Rose and her... thing."

Mary grinned tightly, took a swallow of her drink and nearly choked over it. "Hey, how much did you put in?"

That's about a double-triple, I'd say. Like it?"

She took another, smaller sip. "Boy, that's strong stuff. If I drink this, I'll be climbing the walls."

"But do you like it, Mary?"

She looked up at him quickly. "Yes, I like it. Why? Does it matter?"

"Not really. It matters only that you don't seem able to listen to what I'm saying. That is, I'm not coming through clear to you at the moment. This means, I suspect, that you have quite a bit going on inside. Am I correct?"

She took another sip and made a small face. "I keep thinking about Rose and her dog."

"It's not her dog, it's Cindy's."

"You know what I mean, honey."

He took a sip of his own drink. "Want me to call Rose and see if she'll let us come over and watch?"

Mary's face reddened a little. "Wait till I have a bit more whiskey. Then ask me, honey."

Thirty minutes later he asked her the same question, searching her eyes carefully for her reaction. Mary smiled impishly at him and said not a word. He lighted a cigarette, had two puffs from it and put it out. "I take it you aren't ready to answer the question. All right. Probably be a good thing to drop the whole matter here and now. I doubt that you'd enjoy the scene. More than likely, Rose wouldn't want a female to watch her screwing Man, and I can't say as I blame her. It's hardly the... accepted thing to do."

"Oh, come off it, honey," Mary said, finishing off the drink. "Don't talk to me that way. I'm not one of these rubby-dubby females."

He grinned and had another drink himself. "I know it, darling. I thought I would try and get a rise out of you. When I asked you a moment ago if you wanted me to get in touch with Rose, you just simpered and said nothing. What was that supposed to mean? I know you pretty well, honey, but I can't read your mind."

"Pete," she said soberly, her eyes filled with a sudden strange lust, "get Rose on the phone. Don't say anything about the dog. Just ask her if we can come over and spend the evening with her." Mary glanced at her watch. "It's seven-thirty now."

He put his glass down, went to the phone and dialed Rose's number. He asked her bluntly if they could come to her house, and she surprised him a little by saying she was sorry but didn't want company. She hesitated over the word "company" and Pete suspected it was because she meant she didn't want Mary to pay her a visit. He was tempted to ask her why she had the dog bark over the phone earlier and to tell her he thought it a crazy fool thing to do, but he managed to restrain himself from saying the words. As he started to hang up, she whispered a word to him.

"What did you say?" he asked, knowing what she had said but wanting to hear it from her again.

"Fuck," she said, the voice sounding thick and strange.

"What is that supposed to mean, Rose?" he asked, his curiosity aroused. Was the woman losing her mind?

She was silent a moment. "It means fuck. That's all. Fuck."

He could tell from the way she spoke that she was highly passionate. "Listen, Rose," he said quietly, evenly. "Please let me bring my wife to your house. She'd very much like to... talk to you."

There was silence at the other end of the line. Then, "You may bring your wife if she will do something for me," Rose said somberly.

Pete felt the hair on the nape of his neck rising as it had so often when he had previously made contact with this woman either physically or conversationally. "I heard you," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "What is it you want her to do for you, Rose?"

"I want her to let me."

Pete's mouth went suddenly dry. "You want her to do that... just... jump right into... it... cold?"

"Does she have enough of what it takes?" Rose asked slowly.