Free Campus Tramp by Lawrence Block

because there are no birds around right now. But we could go for a walk.”
    “We could,” she said.
    “Let’s.”
    She got up and waited while he paid their checks. On the way out she slipped her hand into his and an automatic smile came to her face as his fingers tightened around her palm. She wanted to lean over and give him a quick kiss but she didn’t, knowing that he didn’t like her to display her affection in public.
    They headed south on the main street of town. The air was crisp and cool and her legs were free and easy as she walked.
    “Know what I feel like doing?”
    “What?” she asked.
    “Drinking,” he said.
    “Drinking?”
    He nodded. “There’s a whole quart of wine back at the apartment. The two of us ought to be able to empty it in a fairly short amount of time. It’s not the world’s greatest wine—in fact it tastes a little like goat-urine.”
    “How do you know what goat-urine tastes like?”
    “It undoubtedly tastes like this wine. But there’s enough there to get the two of us stoned.”
    “At this hour?”
    “At any hour. It’s powerful wine.”
    “I mean … it’s kind of a nutty time to drink.”
    “It’s a nutty time to be awake, for that matter. C’mon—let’s go get drunk.”
    She let him lead her off in the direction of his apartment. Then he remembered that the car was parked in front of the Landmine and they turned back to get it. She held his hand tightly as they walked along.
    When they got to the car she sat next to him on the seat while he turned the key in the ignition and got the car started. She wondered dizzily what it would be like to drink wine while they watched the sun come up.
    “Don—do you know what I’d like to do?”
    “What?”
    “I’d like to make love.”
    “Believe it or not,” he said, “it’s possible to drink wine and make love. Not simultaneously, of course. It gets a little sloppy. First you drink the wine and then you make love. And then you drink more wine and then you make more love. And then you drink more wine and then you make more love, and—”
    “What happens when you get tired?”
    “Then you go to sleep,” he said. “But I’m not tired yet.”
    “Neither am I,” she said happily. “The way I feel now I could do it forever.”
    “Drink wine and make love?”
    “Not both of them forever,” she said. “After awhile I’d get tired of drinking all that wine.”
    The wine was as bad as he had said it was, if not worse, and although she had never partaken of the urine of a goat it seemed logical that what they were drinking wasn’t far removed from it in taste. But the wine accomplished its intended objective. While its effect on Don wasn’t noticeable, it got her higher than a space platform.
    It was funny, she thought, the way the room was spinning so strangely. It was just a little after five in the morning and the sun wasn’t up yet, and that was one hell of an hour for the room to be spinning.
    “Hell of an hour for room-spinning,” she warbled.
    Don put down the bottle and kissed her.
    “We should drink out of glasses,” she said after the kiss ended, which wasn’t right away.
    “Why?”
    “More civilized.”
    “Who wants to be civilized? We’re pagans.”
    “Pagans?”
    “Mad foolish pagans waiting for the sun to come up so we can worship it in the proper manner. Put down the bottle and kiss me, pagan.”
    She put down the bottle and kissed him. Her head was spinning like a top.
    “Stand up, pagan.”
    When she stood up she had to lean against him for support. She clutched him and her mouth reached up for his. Her tongue darted at once into his mouth and his arms went around her to hold her.
    Her blood was pounding and she felt as though she was coming apart at the seams. The wine was having a definite effect on her and it was doing more than making her dizzy. Her whole body seemed to be alive, alive and demanding, and she wanted him with a desperate passion.
    “Don—”
    “Take off your