Reznick opened his mouth for a long, luxurious yawn, then turned to go back inside, but stopped. He heard a rhythmic slapping sound. He turned around and faced the road, turned toward Anna Dunfy’s trailer.
A multi-colored ball bounced on the pavement from the front of the Dunfy trailer. A moment later, Kendra appeared.
“Hello,” Reznick said.
Startled, she missed the ball and gasped, turning to him. The ball bounced away from her and she chased after it, snatched it from the air, then turned to him again.
“Huh-hello, Mr. Reznick,” she said. She looked at him with her mouth open.
“You can call me Marc,” he said.
“Mommy likes me to call grownups by Mr. and Mrs.”
“I see. Well, I’m more comfortable with Marc.”
“Okay.”
Conan hurried over to Kendra and pawed at her bare shins. She hunkered down, put the ball on the ground, and petted him with both hands, saying, “Oh, you’re just such a sweet little doggy, you know that, Conan? You’re a sweet little doggy.”
While she played with and talked to Conan, Reznick took her in.
She wore a short sleeve red plaid shirt open over a bikini bra, and a pair of black shorts, flip-flops on her feet. Her legs were long, her sizeable breasts round and firm. Her long, honey-colored hair fell down on both sides of her face as she bent and played with the dog.
Reznick realized his breathing had increased in speed. His heart was beating faster. His palms were sweaty, and it had nothing to do with the heat. He could not remember the last time he’d wanted a woman so badly, so deeply, the last time he’d felt a physical hunger for the touch of a woman’s flesh, for the sensation of her lips on his.
He remembered the night before on the roof of Anna’s trailer – he’d noticed something odd about Kendra. What had it been? He’d been unable to put his finger on it then, and he couldn’t identify it now, either.
He sipped his coffee, but it tasted bitter, awful. He tossed the coffee out on the small patch of grass in front of his trailer.
“How old are you, Kendra?” he said.
“I’m sixteen,” she said. “I’ll be seventeen in November. Mommy said she’s going to be buy me a big cake for my seventeenth birthday. German chocolate’s my favorite. What’s your favorite kind of cake, Mr. Rez – uh… Marc?”
Mommy, he thought. How many sixteen-year-olds call their mother “Mommy”?
“I guess my favorite would be chocolate,” he said, frowning now, trying to put his finger on it. “You like Conan, huh?”
“Oh, yes! He’s such a cute little doggy.”
“Don’t you have any pets?”
She stood up then, and a frown created lines between her eyebrows and on her unblemished forehead. She tilted her head to one side, mouth open slightly. “No, I don’t. I’ve never had a pet. I’m gonna ask Mommy if I can have a doggy.”
“You go to school, Kendra?”
“Not during the summer. But yes, I go to school.” She frowned again. “Some kids, they make fun of me, because I ride on the short bus.”
Mommy. Doggy. The short bus.
Oh, my God, Reznick thought. She’s retarded.
“I’m gonna tell Mommy I want a doggy.” She took a few steps until she was standing right in front of him. She spoke in a whisper. “When you see Mommy, will you tell her you think it would be a good idea if I got a doggy?”
She was so close to him he could almost feel her heat. Her eyes were the blue of denim. She wore no lipstick, but her lush lips were rosy.
“Well,” he said, “I… I suppose I could put a word in.”
“Oh, thank you!” she said. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him.
Reznick’s heart stopped as he felt her breasts crush against him, felt her warmth against his body. He did not return her embrace because he was afraid that if he did, he would not let go, he would be unable to let go until his mouth was on hers and their tongues were together and his hand was on her breast, and he thought, Whoa, buddy, as his heart seemed to beat against his ribs like some kind of animal locked in a small cage desperate to get out. He smelled the shampoo she’d used to wash her hair, smelled the toothpaste she’d used to brush her teeth, and felt her breasts, still pressing against him. It seemed to go on and on, and he felt perspiration dribble down his sides, down his back, and he hardened against her, he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t stop it, his erection pressed against her and she pressed against it, and her embrace seemed to last and last and -
“I’m gonna go tell Mommy I want a doggy right now,” she said as she pulled away. “And if she don’t agree with me, maybe she’ll agree with you.” She turned and picked up the ball, tucked it under an arm. She bent down to pet Conan one more time. “Bye-bye, Conan.” She tossed him a smile over her shoulder and said, “Bye-bye. Marc.”
“Bye,” he said, but it came out a broken whisper.
Kendra disappeared around the front of her trailer.
Reznick turned and went inside before someone saw him standing there with a hard-on.
Anna leaned out the door of the trailer and said, “Kendra? Breakfast is ready.”
“Okay,” Kendra said, coming from the front end of the trailer holding a ball.
Anna noticed what she was wearing and said, “Hey, if you want to wear that shirt, you’ll wear it buttoned up, understand me?”
“But it’s cooler this way.”
“Then put on a cooler shirt you can button up. You’re not going around like that, Kendra.”
Anna stepped back as Kendra came up the steps and entered the trailer.
“You don’t think it looks good?” Kendra said.
“That’s not the point. I don’t want you walking around dressed like that, and I think you know why. Don’t you?”
“But what about when we go to Brandy Creek and I swim in the lake? I’m wearing a lot less then.”
“Well, that’s different. We’re not at Brandy Creek right now. Sit down, now, I’ve got pancakes.”
“Oh, goody!”
Kendra went to the small table in the kitchen and sat down.
Anna put a plate of pancakes and some banana slices in front of Kendra. There was already margarine and syrup on the table.
Anna’s parents had been crazy people. They had been abusive and unloving. But they had given her something she had always appreciated – they had seen to it that the family had always eaten their meals together at the dining room table. Well, they had eaten breakfast and dinner there, anyway. In the morning, they’d gathered at the table and, when the yelling subsided, they talked about the day ahead, and their plans for it. At dinner, they’d talked about the day that had passed and what had become of their morning plans. It was a good memory she had of growing up – one of the few – and she wanted to pass it onto Kendra. It would be nice if Kendra could pass it onto her children. But that wasn’t going to happen.
“Mommy, when are you going to let me stay here by myself when you go out?” Kendra asked.
“I don’t know, honey.”
“I’m old enough. I’m sixteen.”
“I know, sweetheart, but we’ve talked about this. You’re sixteen, but… you’re not like other sixteen-year-olds.”
The heavy aroma of buttermilk pancakes and coffee filled the trailer. There was a radio on the kitchen counter and Anna had it tuned to a soft rock station. She didn’t believe in having the television on during mealtime, but music was nice. Anna wore a pink T-shirt and blue shorts, feet bare.