Manhunt. Volume 5, Number 5, May 1957

She was shaking her head. “No. I told you, Matt, I don’t want a dime from you.”

“Well, my God, what do you want?”

“Just you, for the next two days and nights.”

I could hardly believe what my ears had heard.

“You’re a big man, Matt.” Her hands rubbed my chest. “Muscular. Strong. I need you.”

I stared up at her. And then suddenly it was all very funny. I began to laugh and I said, “I’ve been a lot of things in my twenty-four years, baby. But a stud for a week-end? Never.”

She didn’t say anything. She just put her head on my chest and stroked me slowly with one hand, as the full length of her was pressed tight against me. That changed my mind faster than anything she could have said.

We didn’t leave the house until Sunday night. We didn’t eat much, we didn’t drink much, and we didn’t sleep much. It was a crazy, unbelievable week end for me.

I tried to find the tape, of course, but without luck.

Early Sunday evening, Edie wanted to go for a drive. It was to be my last night with her. Monday morning she was to turn me loose with the tape and my ring.

The night was clear and cold. It was early. There was no moon, but the stars were out and the night was light. Edie drove the convertible north past the Crawford campus and out of town. There wasn’t much traffic on the highway. We eased along comfortable at forty miles an hour. Our conversation was idle and inconsequential. About ten miles north of town, we arrived at the river bridge. Edie slowed the convertible. We crossed the bridge, and then she turned off the highway onto a rutted lane. We topped a rise and dropped onto a deserted stretch of sand along the river. She stopped the car and switched off the lights. The only sounds were night sounds and the soft slapping of the slow-moving river.

Edie reached for me.

I looked at her in surprise. “Here?”

Thirty minutes later we were driving back into town.

“It’s almost ended, Matt,” she said softly.

“If I said that grieves me, I’d be a liar.”

She looked at me. “Really, Matt? Don’t you feel anything towards me?”

“If I told you how I really felt, baby—” It was then that I saw the figure of the man in our headlights. He was facing us in a half-crouched position, his arms thrown above his head as if to ward off the onslaught of the powerful body of steel almost on him.

“Edie, Edie, look out!”

I felt the violent swerve of the convertible as she jerked the wheel. The loud thump that I heard brought horror rushing up inside me. And then terror gripped me, for instead of stopping, Edie had tromped on the accelerator. I looked back through the rear window and was just able to distinguish a dark form sprawled in a circle of lamplight on the street.

“Stop, Edie! Good God, stop! You hit a man!”

“Shut up!”

She turned into a sidestreet at the first corner, raced two blocks, and then turned again. I sat in stunned silence all the way to her house. I guess I really didn’t want to go back to the man she’d hit, not any more than she did. Inside the garage, she got out of the car quickly and pulled down the garage door.

I slid across the front seat slowly and got out.

Edie was in front of the convertible, examining it. “Smashed the fender a little on your side,” she said, coming to me.

We walked into the house together. When we reached the kitchen, she moved up close to me and hooked her hands behind my shoulders. “I couldn’t stop, Matt. I couldn’t stop because of you.”

“Because of me?” I said.

“What would it look like in the newspapers tomorrow? Your name and mine. Your wife—”

“But we might have been able to help that man, Edie.”

“Sure. And then again, maybe he just got up and walked on home.”

“Not him. I saw him. He was flat on the street and—”

She fastened her mouth on mine, stopping my words. I jerked my head away from her and shoved her away from me.

She straightened. The surprised look of realization appeared in her eyes.

“Matt, you’re frightened!”

“You’re damn right I am!”

“Don’t be,” she said, coming close to me again. “Please don’t be. When a man’s frightened he’s no good — for anything.”

I grasped her shoulders and threw her away from me. She hit a wall hard and slid down to the floor. Staring down at her, I was suddenly sick to my stomach. I thought I was going to vomit. I drew back my foot.

“No, Matt! Don’t!”

The toe of my shoe sinking deep into her stomach was the best feeling I’d had in three days.

I went into the front room then and sat down on the low sofa in front of the fireplace. My thoughts were scrambled and I tried to get them in order.

A long time later I heard Edie crossing the front room behind me. She was sobbing softly. I didn’t look around at her, and she didn’t say anything. She went into the bedroom and closed the door.

That night I cat-napped on the sofa.

I was up early. The paper boy came up the front walk about six-thirty. I had to force myself to wait until he was out of sight. Then I got the paper off of the small front porch.

The story was right there on page one, a full column.

“Well?”