Free Black Water by Joyce Carol Oates Page A

term!
    When
Lisa returned for a visit, Kelly Kelleher was the one who made a point to be
friendly with her, yes and to talk earnestly with her, the two girls who had not
been particularly close or confiding previously now observed in an intense
conversation in the lounge and what was Lisa Gardiner saying, why was Kelly
Kelleher so fascinated, Lisa with her rather low forehead, her nose too wide at
its tip as if she were continually sniffing in finicky disdain, Kelly with her
peaked, pretty face, her somber mouth—"There isn't that much difference
between people, and there isn't that much purpose to
people," Lisa was saying in a flat, nasal, bemused, bullying voice,
"—if you're one-half of a twin set you know."
     
    No I don't, no I reject that I reject
you, I am not your sister, I am not your twin, I am not you.

 

    She could hear the siren, she could see the am bulance speeding along
the sandy rutted nameless road, the red light on its roof spinning like a top.
    She
was gagging, the hose already in her mouth. A snaky black hose so thick! so long! you wouldn't believe how
long! Lisa had giggled.
    Stretching
her arms, out, out... That look of radiant madness in her
eyes and she was licking her lips.
    Wild!
Buffy St. John had said, years later. That's really sick.
    Buffy
had pinched her, Buffy's teasing-pinch that, damn it, hurt. Saying, pouting, as Kelly Kelleher was hastily
stuffing her things into her suitcase, Yes but why leave now, can't you leave a little later?—and Kelly Kelleher
murmured, Oh Buffy—I'm sorry, that sunburnt flush on
her throat, face, knowing how Buffy would speak of her afterward, not of The
Senator but of her, Kelly Kelleher I thought was my friend, for Christ's sake—!
But Kelly was too embarrassed to say what both she and Buffy knew.
    If I don't do as he asks there won't be
any later.
     
    As
he kissed her those several times, kissing, sucking, groping as if, though they
were standing fully clothed on a beach that, though not very populated, was
nonetheless not deserted, he was in an agony to find a way into her, she felt
the jolt of desire: not her desire, but the man's. As, since girlhood, kissing
and being kissed, Kelly Kelleher had always felt, not her own, but the other's , the male's, desire. Quick and
galvanizing as an electric shock.
    Feeling
too, once she caught her breath, that familiar wave of anxiety, guilt— I've made you want me, now I can't refuse you.
     
    Close
up, Kelly saw that The Senator was not a handsome nor even perhaps a healthy
man exactly: his skin was very flushed, unevenly mottied ,
tiny broken capillaries in the nose and cheeks, and his eyes, that distinctive
blue but the lids were somewhat puffy, the large staring eyeballs threaded with
blood. He was sweating, almost panting as if he'd been running and was out of
condition.
    "Kelly. Beautiful Kelly."
    And
when Kelly could think of no reply, adding: "What am I going to do with
you, Kelly?—so early in the day, am I going to lose you?"
     
    One
of his aides had gotten him a room in a motel in Boothbay Harbor, not an easy
accomplishment on the Fourth of July, but he had the room, he'd checked in, it
was waiting for him and where was Kelly Kelleher staying the night?
    At
Buffy's of course. Kelly was a house guest of Buffy's planning to stay the full
weekend: until Sunday.
    The
Senator's manner was bemused, not at all coercive. Just
bemused. Asking her another time, as if he'd forgotten he had already
asked, if she had a boyfriend? a fiance ? one of the men at the party? that interesting young black from M.I.T. perhaps?
    The
Senator's navy blue knit sports shirt fitted his upper arms tightly and was
damp with perspiration. His seersucker trousers were rumpled at the rear.
    An odor about him of beer, after shave
cologne, frank male sweat. Kelly's nostrils
pinched half-pleasurably. She smiled.
     
    Explaining
now sobbing and angry to both her parents that she was not a bad girl, truly
she was not. The man was married