"How long do you think it will be?"
"No way to tell, but he goes by Biff's every night. When do you have to be home?"
She shook her head, then looked away. "I have to find out."
"Your parents don't make you come home on time?"
"My mother's dead," she said, almost in a whisper. Then she smiled cynically. "My father is ... very important. Always busy. He thinks I'm at a girlfriend's right now." She closed her eyes.
"Your father's important?" I looked at her stylish clothes again, especially the pearls. Those weren't kiddie beads.
"He works for the government. And he has powerful friends. So I have to keep this a secret. I can't even tell you who he is."
I was getting a little scared. "Look, you want to watch TV? I'm not sure what's on - maybe Dobie Gillis."
She didn't speak or even look up.
"You know, The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, with Dobie and Maynard G. Krebs, the beatnik? Don't you like it?"
Tears seeped from under Flo's eyelids. She began to sob, fighting it quietly. Then she fumbled her purse open and pulled out some white tissues from a little plastic packet.
Before I even thought about it, I slid over to her on the couch. I guess if I understood anything deeper than baseball cards at that age, it was feeling scared and alone. When I slid one of my bright yellow arms across her rounded shoulders, under her ponytail, she leaned against me and really began to cry.
I put my other arm around her. Being shorter than she was, with short arms, made this awkward. She cried for what seemed like a long time, and I just sat there with my arms stretched almost around her, yellow against her white blouse.
Finally Flo took some deep breaths and used the tissues in her hand. Reluctantly, I withdrew the arm that was in front of her, but dared to keep the other over her shoulders. Then, with her tissues wadded in one hand, she turned toward me.
Her eyes were wet and red, her eye makeup running. She had put on more lipstick after dinner. It was bright red.
I had certainly never kissed a girl. With my immense front teeth, I wasn't even sure that I could kiss a girl, properly. I looked from her deep brown eyes down to her perfect lips.
You know, I don't know where I got the guts, but I just did it. I kissed her. If she had jumped up and slapped me, I wouldn't have been surprised, but she didn't. She kissed me back.
It lasted a long time. I couldn't tell if my teeth were a problem. Then I forgot about them.
Tears were still welling from her eyes. She took one of my hands and slid it to the front of her blouse. When I caressed her, she kissed me again.
This time she broke quickly and whispered in my ear, her breath hot. "Let's go to your room."
"But ... I ... don't have a, uh, you know. A rubber."
A tight smile altered her features for just a moment. "Chuck, I'm already pregnant, remember? Come on."
I got up, still clinging to her. I was certainly not going to argue very hard. Besides, it was her choice.
In my bedroom, we stepped over dirty socks and the wadded up dungarees I had worn to work yesterday. I turned on the little fan my parents had given me.
Flo stopped by the bed and stepped out of her penny loafers. Then she began to unbutton her blouse. I sat down on the bed and switched on the little portable six-transistor radio on the nightstand under the lamp.
"... Never knew what I missed until I kissed ya. ..." It was the Everly Brothers' new release, quick and bouncy.
The only light angled in from the hall. Standing half in the light, she let her skirt drop to a puddle around her feet and then unfastened her white crinolines. She unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, letting her large breasts swing free. Then she bent forward and slid her white underpants down. Only the pearls still glistened on her body.
I watched as she sat down next to me. Then I tugged my t-shirt up over my head, revealing my fat belly. I really wished I had washed up a little after we had come back here.
She was the one who knew what to do. Slowly, on the narrow single bed, a girl with a gorgeous face, large breasts, and slender, shapely legs made all my wildest adolescent fantasies come true.
***
"They ran so fast that a hound couldn't catch 'em, down the Mississippi to the Gulf o' Mexico. ..."
Johnny Horton was gleefully singing about the Battle of New Orleans on the little transistor radio. I opened my eyes and stared at a crack in the ceiling. "Oh ... I must have dozed off."
Flo smiled at me. I wondered what she had thought of me. After all, I'd never done that before.
"I don't ..." She was whispering. "I don't want you to think I - well, I don't always do this."
"I didn't think so," I said quietly.
Her face was close to mine. "My father hates the wild card. He taught me what it's done to people. He even ... showed me."
"I don't have it so bad. Not when you look around Jokertown."
"My Mom wasn't ... like him. You sort of remind me ... not your looks, but I mean ... you're real decent."
"Thank you." For me, the idea that the people who had always despised jokers could have nice daughters was a new thought.
"Jokertown ... is going to be destroyed," she said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"Jokertown is going to be burned to the ground."
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't think I ever realized how horrible that would be."
I sat up. "Jokertown is going to burn?"
She shook her head tightly. "I said too much."
"You can't just say that and stop. Come on."
"No! I can't!" She flung herself out of bed, turning away. Then she started crying again.
I was amazed at her abrupt shift in mood. Talking about a fire scared me, though. I jumped up and turned her by the shoulders.
"What are you talking about?"
She shook her head, trying to move away.
I stayed in front of her. "You can't just say that and quit! I live here! What about a fire?"
She was sobbing and shaking her head. After a moment, though, she swallowed and looked up at me. "All right! All right. Chuck, my father and some people he knows secretly made Jokertown, starting back in the late forties. They wanted it to be a magnet, where they could draw jokers together."
"What do you mean, 'made' it? Jokers just moved here 'cause it was cheap. Everybody knows that."
"That's right. Rich people bought the buildings here and provided the loans for businesses through their own banks. They did the same with places to live, setting up everything to be real cheap. Then, after drawing as many jokers here as possible, they're going to burn it all down."
"Aw, come on. Their own buildings?"
"The buildings are insured for lots of money. And if they have to, they'll take a loss in some cases. They can afford it."
It was starting to make sense.
"Even the fire chief is in on it. He'll make sure all the fire engines arrive too late, or never get there at all."
I truly felt like a kid. She was a year younger, but her manner was more mature, more sophisticated. She came from the real world, outside Jokertown. Her father was wealthy and powerful. Even the way she spoke sounded older than her years.
"How do you know so much about it?"
"My father still thinks of me as a little kid ... between my ears." She smiled bitterly. "He doesn't try to keep this stuff a secret from me; he's always taught me that people with the wild card are the greatest danger to American society ever. He's never thought of me as a security leak."
I was silent a moment. "When is Jokertown going to burn?"
"I don't know exactly. But I think the wiring of fire-bombs is going to start any time."
"Look - can you tell me anything else? Any kind of a clue to what's going to happen?"