The Reverse Guy
a Short Story
Copyright � August, 2001, Kellis
�Most of the time your thing is like a little empty sock but sometimes it has a foot in it like Mommy�s diddle.� Why is that, Daddy?�
Bill looked up from the book open on his chest into his daughter�s earnest face.� It was a short shift of vision, because she was squatting on knees spread over his hips, compressing the thing in question.� At least he assumed this was the reference.� At the moment it certainly had �a foot in it,� with thin summer clothing protecting it.
Best to be sure.� �What thing is that, Melly?�
She twitched her hips back and forth.� �This thing.�� Now he was sure.
He took a deep breath.� �I�m sorry, dear.� It shouldn�t have a foot in it.�
The child frowned.� �Is it sick?� Am I hurting it?�
�No, and no.�� He hesitated.� Would it cause her unrecoverable future harm if he told her to get off it?
�Then why is it swollen up?�
�It does that sometimes, dear, when something � tickles it.�
Her eyes widened.� �Did I tickle it?�
�Oh, it�s all right.� I know you didn�t mean to.� Say, you�ve been sitting there a good while.� Did you want to ask me something?�
�Yes, but I couldn�t think of the right way to say it.�
�Don�t worry about that, dear.� Just ask.�
But she hesitated.� Her tongue flicked out to wet the pretty rosebud lips.� �You won�t be mad at me, Daddy?�
�No, my dear, I don�t get mad with you.� What is it?�
Her eyes dropped.� �Raleigh showed me his.�
�Raleigh who?�
�Graves.�
�Friend of yours?�
�He�s in the sixth grade.�
�But you�re only in the fifth.�
�I know, Daddy.�
�He showed you his what?�
�His thing.�
An exhibitionist in the sixth grade?� �Where did he do this, Melly?�
�In the big bushes behind the school.� We traded.�
�Traded?�
�We were waiting for the school bus.� It was late.�
�What did you trade, Melly?�
�Pull-downs.�
He stared at her.� �You both pulled down ��
�Our britches,� she completed for him.
�And then what happened.�
�Nothing.� Except he let me feel and I let him.�
�Oh, god!� Did he hurt you?�
She frowned thoughtfully.� �When it started to hurt, I made him stop.� That�s what I wanted to ask you.� Gracie said it doesn�t hurt at all.�
�Ah �� She did, did she?� Gracie who?�
�Grogan.� My best friend.� He put his whole finger into her.�
Bill took a deep breath.� �Gracie was in the bushes with you?�
�No.� She only told him I was waiting.�
�She what?� Uh, how do you know about his whole finger?�
�She said so.�
�When was this, Melly?�
�Do you mean me and Raleigh or Gracie and Raleigh?�
�When did Raleigh and you � ah, have your pull-downs?�
�Friday.� Yesterday.�
�I see.� Are you sure he didn�t hurt you?�
�It just started.� Then I made him move his finger back up.�
�Up?� What do you mean?�
�He was trying to push it in my hole.� Daddy, why can he push it into Gracie but not into me?�
�Well, dear �� Melly, why did you come to me with this?� Why not your mommy?�
�She said to see what you wanted to do about it.�
�Oh, you�ve already asked her, then.�
�Uh-huh.�
�What answer did she give you?�
�She said that some girls have skinny little holes and some have deeper.� I already knew that.� Gracie�s is deeper than my finger but you can hardly get started in mine.� Why are people so different, Daddy?� Why do you and Raleigh have a thing where me and Gracie have a hole?�
Again Bill took a breath.� He smiled.� �My grandpa used to say that between the legs girls and boys were each other turned inside out.�
�Oh!�� Her eyes widened.� �Oh!� They are, aren�t they.�� Suddenly her face fell.� �If mine turned inside out, it wouldn�t stick out that far.�� She held up a forefinger with the thumb marking off the last half-joint.
�Yes, it would.�� He smiled benignly.� �Your mother didn�t tell you the whole story.� Go back and ask her to explain about the �maidenhead.��
�The what?� �Maidenhead?�� You tell me, Daddy.�
He shook his head.� �No, dear.� Believe me, mothers know a lot more about it.�
�They do?� Why?�
�Because they used to have one, just like you.�
�But what is it?�
�I�ll tell you this much:� it�s the skin that blocks your hole.� You said something just now about your mother�s �diddle.�� What were you talking about?�
�That rubbery thing she keeps in her drawer.�
�Did she tell you to call it that?�
�No.� Gracie told me what you call it.�
Bill asked apprehensively, �Did you show it to Gracie?�
�Uh-huh.�
He shook his head.� �Melly, you shouldn�t do things like that.� That is your mother�s and my bedroom.� You mustn�t show things in there to people outside our family.�
�You mean Uncle Bob is all right?�
�Uncle Bob?�
She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.
�Did you show something in there to Uncle Bob?�
�Those magazines that you keep in your drawer.�
�You did what, Melly?�
�He was very interested.� He thought they were so funny.�� She hesitated, then admitted, �He told me not to tell you.�
�I�ll bet!� Have you looked at them, too, Melly?�
�I didn�t think they were funny, Daddy.� Neither did Gracie.�
�I � see.� Where does Gracie Grogan live?�
�Just behind us, in the house with the green shutters.�
�I thought that was the Joneses.�
�It is.� Gracie is just staying with them.� Her mother is the one who suns herself on the deck.� You�ve seen her and she�s seen you.� Remember when she took off the top of her bikini?�
�Ah, yes.� Barely.� So her name is Grogan, is it?�� He chuckled reminiscently.� �I didn�t think that was Mrs. Jones.�
�Oh, no.� Gracie says Ms. Jones is afraid of the sun.� That�s another thing.� I asked mother why women lay out in the sun and she wouldn�t tell me.� Do you know why, Daddy?�
�Maybe they think it makes their skin look younger.� I don�t know.� I�m not a woman.�
�Oh, I know that!� Women don�t have a thing.�
�Hmm.� Melly, dear, how old is your friend, Gracie?�
�Twelve.�
�Twelve!� You mean she�s not in your grade?�
�But she is.� She has moved around a lot.� Her daddy doesn�t live with her mother.�
�I see.� What did you mean when you said her mother had seen me?�
�Huh?� Oh.� When she took her bikini off, she saw you watching her through the hedge.�
Bill stirred restlessly.� �Your mother saw me watching her, which is why it came up at the dinner table.� Who told you that Gracie�s mother saw me?�
�Gracie did.�� The child chuckled.� �She said her mother said, �I hope he enjoyed the show.�� Did you, Daddy?�
�Ah, well, that is ��
She continued blithely, �Gracie�s mommy has a diddle too.�
�I suppose Gracie told you that.�
�She showed it to me.� It�s bigger than Mommy�s.� Gracie says she uses it with Harold.�
�Harold?�� He chuckled.� �Is that her name for it?�
Melly�s face showed puzzlement.� �Harold is Mr. Jones�s first name.�
�Then how does she use it with Harold?�
�She puts it in at her back ��
He held up a hand.� �Never mind.� Melly, I appreciate you telling me about this.�
The girl studied him.� �What are you going to do?�
�I think I�d better talk to your mother first.�
�Huh!�� The girl got down from his lap and said scornfully over her shoulder, �She won�t tell you anything.� She says, �Talk to your daddy.��
Pausing at the door, she grinned back at him.� �Raleigh�s gets a foot in it too.�
The door to the deck banged behind her.� Bill laid his book aside and found his wife also reading, though in the bedroom.� He closed the door behind himself, which caused her to look up.� She inserted a bookmark.� �Did Melly talk to you?�
�Yes, she did.�
�Well?�
His wife, Cully, was a tall, slim woman who effortlessly maintained her slimness because of genes conferred by her mother, also a tall slim woman: Cully plus wrinkles.
�First let�s make sure she told us both the same thing.�� He proceeded to relay his conversation with the child, omitting only the parts about the sock with the transient foot and mutual observations through the hedge.� �Did she leave anything out?�
�No, that�s about what she told me.� What do you make of it?�
He ran a hand through his hair.� �I�ll admit that I don�t like some of it.� This Gracie sounds precocious.�
�You mean sexually.�
�Exactly.� And if she has praised the idea of it ��
�Did you ask Melly that?�
�No, it didn�t occur to me right at that moment.�� He turned around.� �I�ll call her back ��
�No, no, Bill!� Wait a second.� One thing we don�t want to do is make a big deal out of it.�
�We don�t?�� He turned back to stand beside his wife�s chair, regarding her curiously.
�No, we don�t.� Melly is obviously very interested in sexual matters, partly because of what she�s found in our bedroom.� Especially your drawer with all those explicit pictures!� Do you realize what will happen if word of that gets up and down the street?�
�What?� You mean there�s a man�s bedroom on this street without them?� I doubt it.�
�Well, I don�t want to argue about it, especially since that forward little Gracie is our real problem.�
He nodded.� �I think we can agree on that.� But what do we do about it?� Do you know her mother?�
The woman nodded.� �To speak to.� Which I will.�� She sighed.� �But I know what she�s likely to say.�
�What�s that?�
�The same as my doctor.� That a curious child will certainly learn this material from somebody.�
�Your doctor!�
She grinned ruefully.� �Yeah, the one your insurance has paid over a hundred grand so far, and I�ve still not worked around all my hang-ups.�
�Oh, I think you�re doing very well.�
�Because I will suck your cock?�
�Because you�ll even say those words.�
She tilted her head, staring down her nose at his midsection.� �Was Melly sitting in your lap?�
�Well, as a matter of fact ��
�And left it about half hard, did she?�
�Damn it, Cully, are you about to accuse me of some incestuous ��
She smiled slightly.� �I�m accusing you of being a man, that�s all.�� Deliberately her long arm reached out.� His zipper hissed.� A cool hand withdrew him and stroked gently.� �Dr. Zelda has taught me how pretty this thing is,� the woman mused.� �I used to think they were so ugly.�
He remarked smugly, �I suppose few woman can be indifferent to it.�
She glanced up slyly.� �Do you mean any specimen in particular?�
�Well, no, I meant ��
She giggled, then assumed a serious expression though her hand continued its slow stroking, fingers conforming to the rising shape.� �Bill, we�ve talked about how careful we must be with Melly.� We don�t want to give her all the hang-ups my parents instilled in me.� We don�t want her to be 24 years old before her first experience!�
�Don�t we?�
�No, silly!� Think about it from your own perspective.� You would�ve gotten at least five more years of blow jobs from me if I hadn�t been so uptight.�
The woman leaned forward.� He took a gasping breath.� Soon his hips began to move gently back and forth.� But he shook his head.� �Cully, if we don�t do anything, that girl will get Melly�s cherry, pretty damn soon, too, I�m afraid!�
The woman sniffed but her cheeks collapsed around him.� He ceased to think about his daughter.� The spectacle before him was too riveting.� Not only would his wife suck him, a fairly recent development, she was busy learning, if not to savor, at least to swallow its anticipated product.� He looked down at her methodical mouth, thin lips working half-way along the shaft while the back of the tongue rasped around the head, and once again thanked this Dr. Zelda whom he had never met for such a wonderful change in his prudish wife.
* * *
�Can I talk to you a minute?�
It was straight action now.� The woman, having taken off her shoes, was fleeing silently through the parking lot, keeping below window level of the parked cars.� She could hear her pursuer�s heavy breathing and heavier feet behind her.
The words flowed from Bill�s brain, where the scene played out, directly through his fingers at high speed to the screen in dramatic sentences that would require no smoothing of word order.
�Of course, dear,� he answered absently.
Behind her the big man called in triumph.� A shot rang out and the outside mirror
beside her head shattered, stinging her ear �
A strange quality in the odor, girl but different, interrupted his train of thought.� �Melly,� he grated in aggravation, �have you gotten into your mother�s �� Huh!�
The child standing at his elbow was not Melly!� �Who�re you?� he demanded, gaping at her.� She was fluffily blonde, blue-eyed with a serious mien, taller and somewhat heavier than Melly, wearing a blue corduroy jumper over a white blouse, shod in sneakers and white socks.� Slight bulges in her blouse bespoke puberty.
�Gracie Grogan,� she answered gravely.� Suddenly he remembered seeing her in his daughter�s company.
�How�d you get in here?�
She shrugged.� �The door isn�t locked.�
�But it was closed.�� He took a deep breath.� �Don�t you know how to knock?�
�I know my way around.� I�ve been all through this house.�
�I�m sure you have,� he agreed dryly, �but you should still knock when you come to visit.�
�Why?� she asked reasonably.� �Melly doesn�t.�
He grunted.� �She will the next time!�
�I mean when she comes in here.�
Bill snapped, �This is her home!�
The girl blinked.
�Wait a minute!�� He glanced at his wristwatch.� �It�s only eleven.� What are you doing out of school?�
�I didn�t feel good this morning, but now I�m feeling better.�
�Then why didn�t you go on to ��� He took another deep breath and calmed himself.� �I believe you wanted to talk to me.�
She studied him a moment and lowered her eyes.� �I don�t have a daddy.�
�Why not?�
�He left us.� My mommy and I have to stay with her sister.�
�The Joneses?�
She nodded.� �Melly said you�re the one who gives good answers.�
�Did she!�
Gracie nodded solemnly.
�I�d say it depends on the question.� What�s yours?�
�I need to show you.�� She reached behind herself and hiked up the tail of the jumper before perching her buttocks on the corner of Bill�s desk.� She turned slightly to face him and with plump thighs spread apart, lifted the hem of the skirt to her waist, exposing the entire hairless pudendum.� She was without underpants.� The naked buttocks rested directly on the mahogany.
Bill twitched in startlement.� �G-Gracie�� he began.
But she continued, �No one will tell me why I am so different from Melly here.�� As she spoke she pried herself open, one forefinger on each fat labia.� The spectacle was just below eye-level.� He could clearly see the dark horizontal gap between vaginal ceiling and floor that bespoke sexual experience.� A spicy odor of musk and urine wafted to his nostrils.
He could not help staring.� �Good god, Gracie!�
�You could put your fingers in me all the way,� she suggested, maintaining a solemn face and tone.
�I can see that!� he snapped.
�But you can�t in Melly.�
�Of course not!� She�s my daughter.�
�Even if she wasn�t.� Tell me why she is different.�
He shook his head and said dryly, �You know why, Gracie.�
�Is it because I let men do me?�
He stared at her, remembering the plural on her reference to fingers.� �Gracie, what do you mean?� What have you let men do?�
She spread the labia wider.� �Put their things in here.�� The orifice was red as a wound but perfectly symmetrical and delicate as an orchid�s folds.� It glistened with moisture.� He licked his own suddenly dry lips.
�That too,� she added, still unsmiling.� She released herself and thrust hands behind her for support.� Up came her hips toward his face.� �I love that!� she murmured.� �Do me!�
A perfect example of the female essence hovered just beneath his nose, clitoris swollen in its sheath.� The odor seemed to penetrate to his testicles.� His tongue had begun to protrude before he came to his senses.� He raised his head to stare at her in absolute astonishment.
�Go ahead,� she urged, raising the fragrant complexity within an inch of his mouth.
�Gracie, for god�s sake!�� He caught her hips and forced her buttocks back to the desktop.� Shoving backward in his roller-equipped chair, he opened six feet between them.
�Then I�ll do you!�� She vaulted nimbly off the desk corner to end on her knees between his legs, arms over his thighs to prevent him rolling farther.� She searched for his zipper pull.
His hands caught hers.� �Gracie, cut it out.� We can�t do this.� It�s totally against the law!�
Her eyes glowed.� �So what?�� One of her hands escaped and found his partial erection through the cloth.
He ordered weakly, �Don�t do that, Gracie.�
�Huh!� This says, �Do it!��
He seemed to be frozen.� Gritting his teeth, he teetered on the edge of acquiescence.� �No!� he cried, just as she found the pull, gripping her temples between his hands, forcing her back.� He jumped to his feet, knocking the chair back against the wall.
She wiped her saliva-wet mouth with the back of her hand.� �What�re you afraid of?� she asked, apparently in genuine curiosity.� �Nobody can see us.�
�Get out of here, Gracie!� Go home!�
She made a face.� �I thought you wanted me to go to school.�
�Just go, please, right now.�
She sniffed, smoothed her skirt and walked to the door, turning back with a smile, hand on the knob.� �Think about it.� You can be my reverse guy.� I can come any time you want.�
�I can be what?�
But she slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.� He followed her in time to see the door to the deck close also.� From the den window he watched her skip across the backyard and disappear through the hedge.� Who else might have observed her visit?� With any luck, he answered himself, no one.� All the neighbors were gone to work.
He locked the front and back doors of the house before returning to his computer.� But after ten minutes he sighed and gave up.� The image of the escaping heroine could not hold a candle to that of the twelve year-old mouth dripping saliva in anticipation of his penis.
He murmured aloud, �What the hell is a �reverse guy?��
* * *
�Can I get in your lap, Daddy?�
He had been peripherally aware of his daughter�s approach.� He lifted his hands off the keyboard and leaned back.� �Sure, darling.� Come ahead.�
Shortly she sat facing him, jeans spread across his thighs and frilly shirt pressed into his chest.� Her head fell on his shoulder.� She kissed his neck once, a sensuous touch of moist lips that almost distracted him.� But his heroine was about to discover the true nature of her beloved instructor.� His hands came up on either side of the girl to resume pounding the keyboard, transferring words from his mind to the screen behind it.� He continued typing for several minutes.� He had already thought through the scene at this point in the novel and the words poured out readily.� Finally he reached the break and leaned back with a sigh.� His hands left the keyboard to stroke his daughter�s back.
�Is everything all right in your world, pumpkin?�
�It�s scary, Daddy.�
�Scary?� You mean Halloween is coming up?�
�Huh!� I�m too big to believe in ghosts.�
He tucked in his chin to look down at the face just under his own.� She lowered her eyes.
�Then what scares you, Melly?�
She heaved a sigh.� �The cops came and got old Mr. Parland.�
He blinked.� �They did what?� Which Mr. Parland?�
�The old one.� Valencia�s grandpa.�
�What do you mean, they got him?�
�They put handcups on him and put him in their car and drove away.�
He took her by the shoulders and held her far enough away for him to study her guileless face.� �Put handcuffs on him?� Did you actually see this, Melly?�
�No, but Valencia did.�
�Do you know why they arrested him?�
�That�s the word Valencia couldn�t remember, I bet!�
�But why, Melly?�
�Gracie and me talked it over.� We think it�s because of his magazines.�
�His �� What magazines?�
�Like yours.�
�What do you know about his magazines?�
�He showed them to us.�
Bill caught his breath but let it out slowly.� �When did he do this?�
�Last week.� Gracie was playing with Valencia and I went over too.� He was talking to us about liking boys.� Valencia told him she went in the bushes with Raleigh and wanted to know why boys liked to do that.� He brought out his magazines to show us.� But he never did say why.� We already knew what they did.� Could you tell us why, Daddy?�
�Because �� Wait a minute.� This is important.� Did Valencia remember anything the cops said?�
�No, but her mother was crying.�
Bill reached for his telephone but thought better of it.� �When did all this happen?�
�Before I got home from school.�
�Then how did Valencia see it?�
�She was out sick today.�
He set her out of his lap and grabbed his windbreaker.� �Get your sweater and come on.�
�Where are we going?�
�To see if we can be of any help to them.�
The Parlands lived in a typical two-story five doors down the street.� The woman who answered Bill�s knock was red-faced and teary.
�Hello,� he said, �I�m Bill Teller.� I live five ��
�I know, the novelist with the appropriate name.�� Her voice was not friendly.
�And you�re Mrs. Parland?�
�What do you want?�
�I heard a, uh, a garbled version of what happened here today.� I want to offer my assistance.� I�m available if you need anything � from the store, for example.�
�You want to satisfy your curiosity,� she accused.
�That too,� he admitted with a disarming smile.
She shrugged.� �It�ll be in the papers tomorrow.� The cops came here right after lunch with a warrant to search my father-in-law�s effects for child pornography.� They must have found something.� They took him and a box of stuff from his bedroom.�
�A search warrant?� Why would they apply for one?�
�That�s what I�ve been wondering.�� The woman stared accusingly at Melly, hanging on to her father�s hand.
�Well, Mrs. Parland, I meant what I said about being helpful.� Have you notified your husband?�
�He�s down at the police station now, I think.�
�Then can I get you anything from the store?�
�No, thanks.�
�Do you need help with your daughter?�
�What about my daughter?�
�I understand you have a daughter named Valencia, Melly�s friend.�
The woman�s lip curled in a sneer.� �Along with that little Gracie.�� She drew herself up.� �Thank you, Mr. Teller, but we�ll manage.�
�Call me if you need me, won�t you?�
But she closed the door without further response.
As they walked home, Bill asked, �Who did you tell about Mr. Parland�s magazines?�
�Me?� I didn�t tell anyone.� But everyone knew about it in school yesterday.�
�What did they know exactly?�
�That he showed us his pictures.�
Bill shook his head.� �Melly, think hard.� Do you remember him showing you any pictures of children?�
She answered hesitantly, �Well � there was one.�
�What was in it?�
�A little girl sucking on a little boy�s thing.�
�Good Christ!�
�Is something wrong with that, Daddy?� Could it make her sick?�
�I, ah, don�t think it would make ��� His voice ran down.� A police cruiser passed them as they strolled up the sidewalk.� Its slow speed drew his attention.� Another followed that one.� Both cars stopped at houses beyond Bill�s and an unmarked car with a rooftop antenna pulled to the curb between them.� Policemen, both uniformed and suited, emerged and went to the two houses.
Melly craned her neck.� �That�s the Carson and Peullit houses.�
�What the hell?� Bill muttered.
�Maybe it�s the pictures.�
�Pictures?�
�They showed us pictures too.� Gracie really knows how to get people to show us pictures.�
�You mean sex pictures?� Carson and Peullit showed you sex pictures?�
�Mr. Carson did.� I wasn�t there when Mr. Peullit showed Gracie and Valencia.�
�Did you see any shots of children in Mr. Carson�s pictures?�
�No.� Is that cop coming for us?�
Apparently he was.� Drawing near, the man man asked, �You live around here?�
�Right there.�� Bill pointed to his house, whose front walk they had nearly reached.
The uniformed policeman looked down at a paper in his hand.� �Do F. V. Peullit and J. R. Carson live in those two houses?�
�So I understand.�
�Should anyone be at home at either place?�
�I believe they all work.�
�Thanks.�� The man turned around and proceeded toward the houses.� He cupped his mouth with one hand and shouted, �It�s confirmed!�
Immediately splintering sounds arose from both front doors, which shortly stood open.
Bill called in horror after the retreating policemen, �Did you guys just break in to both those houses?�
The man replied over his shoulder, �Don�t worry.� We have search warrants.�
Bill decided not to lock the front door behind himself, hoping to save it from ruin if the police arrived there next.� He proceeded directly to that certain drawer in his dresser where he kept a dozen magazines, the youngest ten years old, some much older, heavily dog-eared, that he had acquired in college, mostly from departing students.� He brought them all downstairs to the den, crumpled a few pages torn from the top one and built a fire in the fireplace.� He stood before the new fire, tearing off pages and throwing them on the flames.
His daughter came up beside him.� She began, �Daddy ��
�I didn�t bring these out to show you,� he interrupted.� �You understand that?� I�ve never shown them to you!�
�All right, Daddy.�� She turned up a worried face.� �But is there something bad about them?�
He took a deep breath.� �No, dearest.�
�Then why are you burning them?� Will the cops come here?�
�I hope not.�� He knelt beside her and put a hand on her shoulder.� �The trouble is, people don�t always tell the truth.� I used to be a newspaper reporter.� I know what lengths the cops will go to when they�re on a roll.� What if the story going around in the school includes my name as a man with sex magazines, who might�ve shown them to kids?� If the cops get my name too, they�ll be here anytime, and if they don�t find child pornography, they might think these magazines are close enough to justify planting some in the pages.�
He stood up and resumed throwing torn paper into the flames.� It was a fascinating pursuit.� Turning to ash, nude bodies twisted more grotesquely than their owners had ever imagined.
�Daddy,� his daughter murmured at his side, �I don�t understand.�
�Think of it as a precautionary measure.� Do you know who told the school about Mr. Parland?�
�It wasn�t me and I don�t think Gracie would have.�
�That leaves Valencia.� Why would she tell on her own grandfather?�
�Maybe it was the high jeans woman.�
�The high �� How could the hygiene woman know?�
�She asked us to tell her if anyone touched us or showed us pictures of sex.�
�What did you tell her?�
�Nothing.� But Valencia may have told.� She was talking to her.�
�What did you mean that everyone knew about it in school?�
�Everyone was talking about it.�
�Then it wasn�t just the hygienist.� She wouldn�t have told other students.�
�I know: I�ll ask Gracie who told.� She probably knows.�
�I wouldn�t be surprised if she does!� What about the others, the Peullits and the Carsons?� Did their names go around the school too?�
�Yes.�� The girl looked puzzled.� �But they don�t have any kids.�
Suddenly he froze.� Between two of his magazines he discovered a photograph evidently produced on an ink-jet printer in black-and-white.� It displayed a small girl nude except for a teddy bear in her arms, lying on her side in bed with knees drawn up, a foolish grin on her face and a large, very mature penis half-buried in her anus.� He stared open-mouthed, certain that he had never seen this picture before, equally certain that no one must ever see it again.� His daughter had fortunately turned away.� Carefully he laid the printout upside down on the flames and when it had crumpled to ash, stirred the remainder thoroughly with his poker before continuing with the other magazines.
* * *
Cully sneered when she learned of the afternoon�s events.� �This society and its stupid hang-ups!� The elderly Mr. Parland is in his seventies, but if he doesn�t get the right lawyer they can put him away for ten years.� That amounts to a death sentence!�
�Ten years?�
�It�s the federal penalty for possession of child pornography,� she said with the authority of her employment as a paralegal.� �Did you happen to hear what kind of porno he had?�
�I understand it was a picture of a little girl fellating a boy.�
She grinned at him.� ��Fellating!�� My, my, what a nice word.�� She sobered.� �A girl and boy, you say?� That�s better than one client we represented last year.� He had a picture of a man with his cock up a small boy�s rectum.�
�A small boy?�� He shook his head and corrected her with a grin, �You mean �penis.��
She grunted.� �I mean, up his ass.�
�What happened to your client?�
�Two years suspended.� He claimed the picture belonged to his brother.� The worst part was registration as a sex offender.�
�This is serious shit, Cully.�
�Yes.� And do you know what the prosecutor will say about you burning all your pictures?� Not that I�m sorry you burned them!�
�What?�
�That you were destroying your own child pornography.�
�But none of my original pictures showed a child!�
�Didn�t it?� I remember a great many hairless pudenda �� Excuse me.� Hairless cunts.�
�Yeah.� You�ve heard of razors, I presume.� What�s with this Anglo-Saxon?� More of Dr. Zelda�s tonguework?�
She giggled.� �You make her sound like a cunnilinguist.� Ha!� Is that Latin-enough for you?�
�I�m surprised you didn�t say �cunt licker.��
�Oh.� I should have, shouldn�t I?� Huh!� All this talk of sex is making my pussy wet.�
�You mean your vagina?�
She sniffed.� �Quit playing the prude.� It hardly fits.�
�Take off your clothes and I�ll show you something that fits.�
�Why, Bill!� That�s the best offer I�ve had all day.� But a new Sex in the Town is on tonight.� Dr. Zelda said to be sure and watch it.�
�Well, suppose I watch it with you � naked?�
She took a breath, eyes sparkling, but frowned.� �No, I won�t hold you to it.� You say the women on that show are contemptuous of men.� But they aren�t, you know.� They just won�t put up with any crap � as I won�t.�
�Of course not,� he agreed, turning to leave the room, recalling his earlier conclusion that some parts of Dr. Zelda�s work were significantly less meritorious than others.
�Bill!� she called after him.� �What did you mean, your �original pictures?��
He turned back, taking a breath.� �As I burned them, I found a picture � actually an ink-jet printout � inserted between two of my magazines.� It was ��� He gulped.� �It was real child porno.�
�What was in it?�
�A little girl with a man�s dick up her ass.�
�A little girl?�
�It was a front view with her legs drawn up.� She was a girl, all right.�
The woman glared.� �When did you develop an interest in that stuff, Bill?�
�I?� he shouted.� �I never saw the damned thing before in my life!�
�You never what?�� She shook her head.� �Then how do you account for it?� What did you do with it?�
�Burned it to a crisp and stirred the ashes.� I can�t account for it!�
�And you never will now.� Could it have been among the magazines when you first got them?�
�No way.� Before we were married I went over those magazines many times in every order.�
�Then, my dear, someone must have planted it on you.� Who hates you that much?�
He chuckled with heavy irony.� �Until now I would have said, �No one.�� Is it possible that Parland�s magazines were doctored?�
He stared at her before turning away purposefully.
�Just a minute!� she called.� �I hope you aren�t planning to accuse Melly.�
He stopped to look back.
The woman suggested, �She�s gone to bed.� Let me talk to her about this at breakfast.�
* * *
Sex in the Town must have been stimulating.� When the show ended, Cully, wearing a bathrobe, came into his study where he was toying with the novel outline, sank to her knees and opened his fly.� Wordlessly she fished him out and sucked the limp flesh into her mouth.� But after less than a minute she raised up to study him.� Her face showed astonishment.� �What in the world is the matter, darling?�
He chuckled with embarrassment.� �I can�t work on the novel either.�
She rose to her feet, slid his guest chair nearby and sat facing him, knee nudging his leg.� �Is it all these arrests?�
�I can�t get them out of my mind.� Someone must be planting these images in the neighborhood.� What if our daughter has access to them?� What if she�s been molested?�
His wife studied him.� �Didn�t you say you talked to her today?� Did you hear any evidence of it?�
�Such as?�
The woman shrugged.� �I don�t know.� Too much knowledge maybe?� Adult knowledge?"
�I started to say, �Yes,� until you added �adult.�� She has too much knowledge, perhaps, but it�s not really adult.�
�What do you mean?�
�Well, your dildo is a �diddle,� and she compares an erect penis to a sock with a foot in it.�
�A what?�� She chuckled.� �That�s a good one!�� She shook her head.� �But it�s not evidence of molestation.� Her yearly checkup is next week.� I�ll ask Dr. Ellis to look for that.�
He stared at her.� �I believe she would tell me if I asked.�
�Oh?� Just what would you ask her, Bill?�
He marked off half the last digit of his forefinger with his thumb.� �Whether her thing would still only be this long if it was turned inside out.�
�You told her your grandfather�s inside-out joke, I see.� Bill, have you thought that you may be the source of a lot of her excess knowledge?�
He shook his head.� �I can recognize what I told her.� Something bad is happening in our neighborhood, Cully, and it threatens this family too.�
She leaned closer and encircled his neck with her cool arms.� �Perhaps it does, but I don�t think it�s as serious for us as you do, especially now that you�ve burned your porno.�
�Don�t you?� When they�ve arrested neighbors on both sides?�
�But that�s my point.� If you were accused, why didn�t they arrest you?�
�Because � because they hope for me to run?�
�You�re reaching,� she noted dryly.� �Why couldn�t it simply be that you�re not suspected?�
�Okay.�� He grinned hollowly.� �Paranoia?�
She added thoughtfully, �You could take a few precautions ��
* * *
His eyes lit when he heard the knock on the door to the deck, and he completed his preparations quickly.� When he had opened the door, he asked coldly, �Gracie, what do you want?�
�It�s chilly in the wind.� May I come in?�
Melly had offered no insight into the source of the illegal images, beyond confirming that she had seen one among Carson�s magazines, though not Peullit�s.� Nevertheless the newspaper had reported both men, along with the senior Parland, indicted for possession of child pornography as well as for �child endangerment,� an oddly catch-all term.� Staring at the cold-reddened cheeks before him, Bill was struck with the certainty that here stood the instrument of the neighborhood�s moral decay.� She definitely had opportunity to plant the images in Peullit�s and his own stashes, even if Carson and Parland had acquired their own.
He stood back from the door, gesturing for the girl to enter.� She was wearing a heavy sweater over the same jumper or one like it.� She smiled at his acceptance and walked calmly across the floor directly to his study.� He closed the door and followed, calling, �Did you feel sick again this morning, Gracie?"
Standing beside his desk, she turned around and smiled at his approach.� �No, I didn�t have to.� The school thinks I sound just like my mother on the phone.�
�I�ll bet it does!� he agreed ironically.� �Isn�t your mother at home?�
�Yeah, but I took the cordless into the closet.�
�I see.� So what can I do for you this morning, Miss Grogan?�
She crossed her arms before her and pulled the sweater off over her head, letting it fall to the floor.� She said, as if pointing out the obvious, �I told you.� You�re my reverse guy.�
�Yes, you did, Gracie.� Just what does that mean?�
�Can�t you tell?� With Farron and Joe gone, you�re left.�
�Who gone?�
�Farron Peullit and Joe Carson.�
�And I�m left?� What about old Mr. Parland?� Don�t you miss him too?�
�For what?� He only gave us money.� Money�s easy to get.� Besides, that was a mistake.� The hygiene woman wore Valencia down.�
�So Valencia did turn in her own grandfather!�
�Yeah.� She�s just a dumb kid.� She didn�t know it would get him in trouble.�
�But you knew.� Why didn�t you warn her?�
She shook her head incredulously.� �I never thought she�d tell!�
�Was it Valencia who turned in Peullit and Carson?�
She sniffed.� �Who cares.� They�re out of the picture.�
�What were they to you, Gracie?�
She studied him guilelessly, at last admitting, �My main guys.�
�Your main guys,� he repeated.
She moved directly before him.� �Now you�re my main guy.�
�Not reversed anymore?�
Her brow wrinkled.� �That�s not the right word, is it?�
�Oh, you never can tell!� But they were your guys, not Valencia�s.� Why would she rat them out?�
Gracie shook her head.� �She didn�t.�
�But you did?� I thought they were your main guys!�
She took a deep breath and raised her hands to his shoulder.� �Kiss me, Bill.�
He stepped back.� �Tell me why you told the cops.�
�I didn�t tell the cops.� They asked me a lot of questions, but I didn�t tell them anything.�� Her eyes glittered.� �I told the boys.�
�The boys?� You mean you were bragging?�
�Boys are the ones who brag.� They tell everybody everything.�� Her tone was mildly contemptuous.
He nodded.� �You counted on that, did you?� Why did you want the school to know about your �main guys?��
She sniffed.� �When the cops asked me a lot of questions, I boo-hooed until they let me alone.�
�Maybe so, but that was after the school kids repeated it to the hygiene teacher,� he guessed dryly.� �Why did you tell the boys in the first place?�
She backed against his desk, hitched up her skirt and perched on the corner as she had on her previous visit.� She smiled invitingly, raising the garment to her waist and spreading her legs.� The hairless labia parted to disclose the dark crimson interior.� �Lick me like you were going to,� she suggested, eyes glowing.� �I love that.�
He forced a nervous chuckle.� �If you want me to, ah, help you, you have to tell me what was wrong with your two other main guys.� Perhaps I can avoid their mistake.�
She frowned.� �They � wouldn�t do me any more.�
��Any more.�� But they did do you?�
�Only one time.� I got Farron into the woods to find my cat.� I showed him my thing to lick and then he did me.� Then I got Joe to do the same.� But after that they wouldn�t come to the woods again.� They worried more about the law, they said, than about me.� That was their mistake.�� She smiled brightly.� �But you don�t have to go to the woods.� You�re home alone all day.� I wish I had come to you first.�� She put two fingers into herself, holding her hand to the side so that he had a clear view.� �Come on.� If you stand up, you can go ahead and do me right here.�
�And play into your hands as they did?�
�My hands?� I mean my hole.�� She studied him.� �Don�t worry.� I�m not trying to get you in trouble.� All I want is to find someone who won�t tell the whole school.�
He took a deep breath.� �Then I�m sorry to disappoint you, Gracie.�
Her smile vanished.� �You will be.� Even looking at it is enough to get in trouble.�
�You know a lot about that, don�t you?�
She tossed her head.� �I learned it in Cincinnati.� It�s why we had to move.� Don�t disappoint me, Bill.� If they come here they�ll find something bad.�
�Like a picture of a man taking a little girl from behind?"
Momentarily her eyes widened.� Then she shrugged and resumed her smile.� �You know you want me.� Well, here I am.�� With both hands she stretched her labia apart, studying him for the effect.
He reached her in three long steps.� Her face changed as she saw the purposefulness in his.� �Bill �� she began, but his hand closed on her wrist and jerked her off the desk.� She staggered as he stooped to gather her fallen sweater in his other hand.
�What are you doing?� she demanded.
He marched from the room and toward the deck door, dragging her unwillingly behind him.� �Hey, quit!� she ordered.
The cold wind bit through his shirtsleeves as they careened across the deck and down onto the grass of his backyard.� He set a course toward the gap in the hedge, leaning forward, the girl stumbling willy-nilly behind him.
�I�ll fall down,� she warned.
�Then you�ll get dragged,� he retorted, not even bothering to look back.
�I�ll scream.�
�Go ahead.� Nobody�s home but your mother, and she�s the one I want to see.�
Behind him arose a full-throated, blood-curdling screech that would do credit to any woman facing a saber-tooth tiger.� It actually rang in his ears.
�Pretty good job,� he admitted admiringly when she paused for breath.
They dived through the hedge.� In the Jones� backyard the girl produced one more scream, though not nearly so impressive, but the sounds had apparently been enough to attract the mother�s attention.� The door into the house from the deck opened as he dragged the girl up the short flight of stairs.� The woman who had displayed ample breasts in late summer, now with hair straggling above a housecoat and slippers, stood in it wide-eyed.
�What are you doing to Gracie?� she demanded harshly.
He came to a halt directly before her, holding the flustered girl at his side, both breathing hard.� �I�m Bill Teller, Ms. Grogan.� I�m bringing your daughter home�� He took a quick breath.� �I�m afraid she�s truant, which is your problem, but she�s also a very dangerous child, and that�s my problem!� I need to talk to you about it.� May I come in?�
The woman�s eyes narrowed.� �Have you molested her?�
He stared into her eyes.� �No.�
�Yes, he has!� cried the girl.� �He looked at my pussy.�
The woman studied him.� �You don�t deny it, do you?� And you want me to let you in my house?�� Her tone was incredulous.
�Otherwise I go to the police.�
��To the police!��� She laughed derisively.� �Are you such a fool as that?�
�I�ll do it, foolish or not.�
Her amusement vanished.� She stood back from the door.� Bill dragged the girl into a den very much like his own.� He had begun to shiver in his shirtsleeves and the warmth was pleasing.
He released the girl and handed the sweater to the woman, who asked, �Did you take this off her?�
�No.� She knocked at my door about 15 minutes ago.� When I let her in, she took off her sweater, perched on my desk and exposed her vagina.� She is wearing no underpants.� She invited me to lick her, then to have intercourse.�
�And did you?�
�No.�
�Not today,� the girl interjected.� She started to walk away.� �I�m going to my room.�
�You are not!� Bill thundered.� �You�ll stay right here, young lady.�
Her eyes narrowed.� �You can�t give me orders!�
�Try me!�
The woman patted the empty air.� �Stay here, Gracie.� What did you mean, �Not today?��
�He almost licked me a couple weeks ago.�
�Did he!�
Bill took a breath.� �Another morning of laying out of school.� She came into my house without knocking and into my study where I was working.� She was without underpants.� She sat on my desk corner and raised herself up to my face.�� He sighed.� �I don�t deny her charge, nor condone it, but I pushed her away almost immediately.� I didn�t actually touch her.�
�I held your thing,� the girl claimed, eyes alight.
�Through my pants before I could stop her.� But I made her leave my house immediately.�
�Your thing was hard,� Gracie asserted with an unmistakable leer.
�So she seduced you!�� The tone dripped contempt.
�She did not, not in any real sense, certainly not today after what�s happened.�
�What do you mean?�
�You must know what happened in this neighborhood this past week.�
�I read the papers.�
Bill pointed to the girl.� �She is the cause of it, from beginning to end.�
The woman�s eyes did not follow his finger.� They remained locked to his.� �I suppose you have some proof of that.�
�She admitted it to me not ten minutes ago.�
At last she turned to the girl.� �What about it, Gracie?�
The girl�s eyes shifted.� �I didn�t do anything.� He wanted to put his thing in me.�
The woman�s eyes narrowed.� �There you are, Mr. Teller.� Speaking of proof, I can testify that you admitted molestation to me, or as near to as makes no difference.� Do you still want to involve the police?�
He raised his hand to a shirt pocket but paused as if in consideration.� �Perhaps not.�� He took a deep breath.� �Ms. Grogan, Gracie also admitted that you had to leave Cincinnatti because of some similar trouble there.� I think you know very well that your daughter has a serious problem.� She has contributed to, if not engineered, the ruination of three family men in this neighborhood.� I want to know what you mean to do about it.�
She straightened.� �I don�t like those accusations, Mr. Teller.� I think you need to leave now.�
He nodded slowly as he turned to the door.� �That answer is clear enough.�
* * *
Forty minutes later the loud thuds at his front door proved to derive from two policemen in uniform and two others in mufti.� �Right on time,� Bill commented affably as he stood back from the open door.� �May I see your search warrant, please?�
�Are you W. E. Teller?� asked a suited one.
�That�s me.�
�Here you go.�� The man thrust a lengthwise-folded paper into Bill�s hand.� �Where�s the master bedroom?�
�Upstairs to the right.� Good.� At least it�s not just an anonymous tip.� I�ll be able to face my accuser, and so will you.�
�What does that mean?�
�I have some unimpeachable evidence against her.�
�You a lawyer, Teller?�
�No, just a very interested party.� My wife works for a lawyer, however, and he�s on his way to the station now.�
The man stared.� �Is this some kind of setup?�
�Boy, I�ll say!�
�What�s your evidence?�
�I�ll give that to you when you arrest me.�
�All right, consider yourself under arrest.� Now what do you have to say?�
Bill sniffed incredulously.� �Good god, don�t you ever watch TV?� Hadn�t you ought to read me my rights first?�
* * *
They brought Gracie Grogan and her mother into the same interrogation room four hours later.� At sight of Bill across the table, the woman pointed dramatically.� �That�s he!� That�s the man who molested my daughter.�
�Take a seat, Ms. Grogan,� said a detective calmly.� �Your daughter can sit beside you.� It seems that most of your city block may have molested your daughter, which makes us begin to wonder just who is molesting who!�
The woman said stiffly, �You know you can�t hold a 12 year-old responsible for any of it.�
�You may be wrong about that, ma�am,� suggested a suited man leaning against the wall.
�Who�re you?� she demanded.
�Milton Ayers from the D.A.�s office.� In this state the Doctrine of Malicious Slander is designed particularly to recognize a child�s culpability.� And your own skirts are hardly clean.� Originals of all the pictures taken as evidence against your neighbors were found on your hard drive.� We�ll ask you to explain that, if you don�t mind.�
�On my hard drive!�� Her eyes grew wide as they turned on her daughter.� �Gracie?�
�And we�ll also ask you to explain this.�� He waved a hand and the air in the room was filled with the hiss of tape playback.
A young voice was saying confidently, �� Only one time.� I got Farron into the woods to find my cat.� I showed him my thing to lick and then he did me.� Then I got Joe to do the same.� But after that they wouldn�t come to the woods again.� They worried more about the law, they said, than about me.� That was their mistake.�
The playback stopped.� Gracie�s eyes were huge on Bill�s.� �You were recording me!�
The standing man nodded significantly.� �That sounds like a pretty good admission to me.�
�Hush, Gracie,� her mother admonished.
But the girl stared forlornly at Bill.� �Why�d you want to do this to me?�
He smiled in undisguised relief but couldn�t resist answering, �Let�s just say your reverse guy pulled a reverse.�
END
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