Blood Games

    ‘It’s you he married,’ Abilene reminded her.

    ‘Yeah, but look who he danced with at the reception.’

    ‘You had a broken foot,’ Vivian said.

    ‘That’s beside the point. Anyway, I just think it’d ruin everything if we let the guys come along on these things. Next thing you know, we’d be dragging along a herd of ankle-biters.’

    ‘Anybody knocked up yet?’ Finley asked.

    ‘God forbid,’ Cora said.

    ‘Not yet,’ Helen said.

    ‘Me neither,’ said Abilene.

    Vivian shook her head.

    ‘Well, that’s something, anyway. We’ve gotta do this every year. No matter what. Just us. No husbands or loveiboys, no kids. They stay home.’

    ‘We oughta take a pledge,’ Finley said.

    ‘We don’t need no steekin’ pledges,’ Abilene said. ‘We should just be glad we’re all here right now, and not worry about the future.’

    ‘We’ve gotta worry about the future,’ Cora said. ‘Because you wanta know why? Because it’s adventures like these that’ll keep us from turning into a bunch of old ladies.’

    ‘Speak for yourself,’ Abilene said.

    ‘I mean it. You’ve gotta do something a little nuts every once in a while. Get away from the job and paying bills and going to the grocery store and doing dishes and spending your nights in front of the boob-tube. You know? That stuff wears you down. Pretty soon, you forget what it’s like to have fun.’

    ‘I have plenty of fun.’

    ‘Not like this, Hickok.’

    ‘Yeah,’ Helen said. ‘When was the last time you were really scared?’

    ‘About half an hour ago.’

    ‘See?’

    ‘I don’t think you have to be scared to have fun.’

    ‘It’s the freedom,’ Vivian said. ‘That’s the important thing. When we’re off like this, we can do whatever we want. We don’t have to watch ourselves, worry about what anyone might think of us. We’ve been through so much together. We can really be ourselves.’

    ‘You babes sure get talky when you’re looped,’ Finley said.

    ‘I’m not looped,’ Vivian said.

    ‘She’s not looped,’ Helen agreed. ‘She hasn’t puked yet.’

    Cora stood on the bumper of the car, and jumped down. She plucked her clinging T-shirt away from her rump. ‘Come on, let’s stop gabbing and explore the rest of the lodge.’

    Finley picked up her camera. She hopped to the ground.

    Abilene drained her glass. She set it inside the box, then stepped to the hood of the car. While the others rid themselves of their glasses, she slipped into her blouse. It was dry except for a moist area in the center of its back where Cora’s rump had been.

    It cut off the pleasant feel of the breeze, making her uncomfortably warm, but she couldn’t see herself entering the lodge without wearing it. She even buttoned it shut, as if the blouse would offer her some protection against the creepiness of the place.

    Cora came around from the rear of the car with a flashlight.

    ‘Should we all get ’em?’ Helen asked.

    ‘Ah, one’s plenty. Gotta conserve our batteries.’ She strode toward the lodge. Halfway up the porch stairs, she stopped and bent down to tie a shoelace. Her T-shirt slid up, baring her buttocks.

    ‘Are you really going in like that?’ Abilene asked.

    ‘Sure. Why not?’

    ‘Don’t you feel… kind of vulnerable?’

    ‘Just cool and free.’

    ‘She’ll be sorry,’ Finley said, ‘when a mouse runs up her leg.’

    ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.’ She finished tying the lace, picked up her flashlight, and climbed the rest of the stairs.

    Helen went after her, Abilene and Vivian following side by side, Finley taking up the rear.

    Inside, the lodge seemed a little darker than before. And hotter. There was a sweet, dry aroma of decaying wood that Abilene hadn’t noticed earlier. Maybe she noticed it now because of the margaritas; whenever she was a little juiced, her awareness of odors seemed to grow. A very nice side-effect if she happened to be somewhere that smelled good. Not so great, now. The odor was not unpleasant, in itself. But just as a strong scent of flowers sometimes reminded Abilene of funerals, the rotting wood smell sank her mood under sensations of deterioration and ruin.

    That’s probably the booze, too, she thought.

    If she didn’t watch herself, it could make her depressed.

    And nervous.

    Along with feeling gloomy because of the ancient, sad odor, she found herself more nervous than ever about being inside the lodge.

    Like the others, she stopped in the foyer. She looked around, half expecting to glimpse the kid - or someone else - lurking in the lobby or hallway or parlor.

    Or gazing down at them from the second floor balcony. The balcony, bordered by a wooden railing, extended from the top of the stairs to the far side of the lodge. She thought she might see a face between its balusters, but she didn’t.

    She saw nobody.

    Cora walked to the foot of the stairway and started climbing. The others followed.

    ‘That kid might’ve come back while we were out front,’ Vivian whispered.

    'Anybody here?' Finley shouted up the stairs.

    ‘Stop it!’

    Helen giggled.