to see just how good a lover Davie might be moments after being kicked in the nuts.
New Year’s Eve was shaping up to be a very interesting evening all around.
*****
The only problem facing Davie now was the truth about Sarah’s sexual history, or more specifically, the lack of one. Davie had worked hard, fearful always that she may now have, or had had an affair off campus and thus beyond the knowledge of those individuals who took a particular delight and an inordinate interest in other people’s affairs - sexual and otherwise. No luck. Finally Davie gave up, running on intuition instead. Besides, he reasoned, knowing Sarah, by the time she gave over he’d be an old man! Davie chuckled again, relishing his little joke.
He couldn’t wait to get into his costume. Marc Anthony, now someone was thinking right! Perfect fit too and a masterpiece of authenticity, right down to the sword.
Sarah’s costume included yards and yards of semi-transparent veils and not much else. Davie found himself licking his lips in eager anticipation as he fondled the material, until he caught himself and stopped abruptly.
By the time he reached her place he could barely contain his excitement. Sarah pointedly ignored the ohs and ahs of her roommates as they admired Davie, the Marc Anthony of all their dreams.
‘Hello Sarah. I'm sure this will fit. Well, ah … I hope it does.’ He handed her a rectangular cardboard box.
She lifted the lid then stared down at the costume in disbelief. ‘Is this it?’
‘Yeah well ah … sorry, but the selection was kind of limited.’
Sarah’s roommate Heather cut in. ‘I think it’s great. Come on Sarah, try it on.’
Sarah turned to her, her green eyes flashing. She grabbed the costume out of the box and threw it at her. ‘If you think it’s so great, then you try it on!’
Sarah’s other roommate Janet stepped in hoping to save the day; or rather the night. ‘Oh, for Pete’s sake Sarah, I've seen worse on the beach. Come on, hurry up. Heather, go and help her.’
Sarah snatched the costume back then turned to Davie, offering him a wicked smile. ‘No guarantees Mister Kendall,’ she said as she stormed out of the room with Heather following right behind.
‘Sit down Marc,’ Janet sighed, ‘this could take awhile.’
The living room was a mess. On the floor were empty soda bottles, beer cans, assorted wrappers, newspapers and magazines; all conspiring together to create a scene that could best be described as static chaos. An ashtray filled to the brim with cigarette butts clung to the edge of a dilapidated wooden coffee table covered with scars and burdened down with its own field of trash. The sofa smelt vaguely of stale beer and marijuana. Before he could sit down, Davie had to move two battered and stained throw pillows out of the way. Janet was just in time to gather up a crochet blanket. She sat perched on the arm of the sofa, clutching the blanket and watching, mildly amused, as Davie adjusts his metal tunic before easing himself down onto the tattered sofa.
Janet was grossly overweight. As she perched on the edge of the sofa her “love handles” blossomed despite every effort by her tee-shirt to hide them. She was not a pretty picture either in a pair of jeans that strained at the seams.
Davie looked up. ‘Is everything set for tonight?’
‘Yep, you just get her back here. Heather's going off somewhere with Jess so we won't see her until Wednesday. Ted will be here by ten, just in case you need help with her.’ She chuckled. ‘He said he’d bring some stuff to spike her drink with, if it comes to it.’
‘Some friend you are.’
‘You still want her, don’t you? Besides, you’re not the one who has to live with her … tight-ass bitch. The only reason why Heather and I took her in in the first place was because we thought, with her looks, it would be wall to wall guys around here but instead we've got Miss Ice Palace; “touch me and I'll scream”. Shit!’
‘Maybe she's got someone special who …’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake Davie, I've told you a hundred times, there’s no one. We figure she's holding on to it for some super rich sugar daddy with a heart condition or somethin’. Well, I'm fed up with it and so is Heather, so either she puts out or she gets out, and you’re just the guy to do it.’
Davie looked away, quietly disconcerted.
‘Just pull her down Davie, just like we planned. By this time tomorrow, she'll realize that she’s no better than the rest of us, and she never was.’
*****
Sarah twisted and turned in front of the small mirror in her room. Once into the costume with the veils layered, it wasn’t so bad. Heather was able to talk her into going at least as far as the living room.
Davie had steeled himself, knowing in advance that if he let go with even one hubba-hubba-type remark, the evening would end before it got going and he’d find himself back in Shit Creek, only this time with a bullet through his brain.
When Sarah emerged, he smiled pleasantly, complimented her politely and escorted her out the door, thankful that Marc’s metal tunic hid what he found impossible to control. She looked magnificent. Suddenly it hit him that maybe; just maybe, he might lose her tonight to … as the tips of her fingers slipped from his and she settled into the car. She turned and smiled up at him, sending his heart flying.
Davie hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure if any of this was a good idea, but damn it man; he didn’t have any choice. It didn’t occur to him then that Sarah had not been given even that.
*****
What an event! When Davie found out that the tickets cost a hundred bucks each, he just about flipped. ‘Proceeds to Charity - yeah like the Pre-med Student Benevolent Fund’, he chuckled. Too bad, he thought, that most of the guests were old enough to be his parents if not grandparents but thank God at least some of the old hags were wearing masks. It was all enough to give a young boy of such a delicate frame of mind, nightmares.
Davie was about to ask Sarah to dance again when Capritzo appeared. He was dressed as Lucifer, which as far as Davie was concerned, seemed entirely appropriate. He smiled thinly at Davie then turned his full attention on Sarah but Davie intervened, quickly taking her right hand, swinging her around and into his arms before whispering something that made her laugh. Capritzo moved away, visibly annoyed.
Unseen by Davie, Capritzo looked upward to the mezzanine floor and nodded. From the darkness issued two masked “demons” who hurried to their prearranged positions. Within minutes the trap was set and needed but the arrival of its intended victim.
‘Sorry Miss, room closed, room closed.’ The attendant waved Sarah away with his mop. She backed up as water continued to spill out from the ladies washroom, fanning out across the polished floor. ‘Another there,’ he pointed further along the corridor. Sarah hesitated only briefly, perhaps because by now her back teeth were beginning to float as her father used to say. Quickly she moved on.
The
