pocket and sat down.
“Like beer?” he said.
“Not too well. I’m not used to it.”
With a flip of his wrist, he sprung the cap and the white foam bubbled out toward the top of the bottle. He held it up to Mitch and said, “Here.” He opened another for himself and took a long swig.
Mitch sat down beside him and tasted the cold beer mincingly. It tasted bitter and sour. She coughed and said, “I haven’t had any in a long time.” Bud grunted and drank some more. He finished and reached for another bottle. “Through?” he asked, and Mitch shook her head. She sat quietly, wishing that Leda had not gone off with Jake, indignant that they had left her alone with Bud.
The silence was nervous and anticipating. After a while he reached over and pulled her down beside him there on the blanket. His mouth came on hers and she could feel the roughness of his beard. At first she tried to push him back and she struggled desperately. Then she let him kiss her. Ever been kissed—hard?
“You’re a cold baby,” Bud Roberts muttered in her ear. “That’s all right. I like them cold.”
“Leave me alone,” Mitch said. “Will you leave me alone?”
He sat up and reached for the full bottle of beer that was Mitch’s. He handed it to her and watched her swallow. In the darkness he could not see the tears that stung her eyes from the harsh taste of the beer. He waited and she took another swallow. She did not want to kiss him.
“Cigarette?” he said, passing her the pack.
She took one from him and let him light it. It would pass time. The smoke tickled her nose and she began to sneeze. Bud drank more beer and whistled nonchalantly, watching her as he handed her another bottle. The taste was like water now.
“Think you’re going to like smoking?” Bud said, grinning at her.
The end of her cigarette was wet and soggy and she stubbed it out on the ground. She said, “I’ve smoked before.”
He laughed and pulled her down again, and for another long minute she lay there impassively while his mouth pressed against hers, wet and hard.
“Take your coat off,” he said.
“I will not!”
“Get it off. What’s the matter? Rule against taking your coat off? I’m not going to undress you.”‘
His hands worked on the buttons, and in a moment he was helping her out of it. The beer made her head swim and she did not care. He put her coat beside his own, and then he opened more beer, passing her another. It was smooth going down and she was grateful that he had not pushed her back again.
“How old are you?” he said.
“Seventeen.”
“Jail bait, huh?” He laughed and reached over to touch her arm.
“What does that mean?”
“Means I’m not supposed to do this,” he said, his hand patting her below the stomach.
She moved away. “Stop it, will you? Please!”
“That’s just what I was explaining.” He laughed again. “That I’d have to stop. Don’t be so jumpy. You’re doing a regular dance over there. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Don’t touch me, then,” she told him.
“Don’t worry so much, baby.… Tell me, how do you like rooming with Leda?”
She was glad that he was going to talk. She felt better and less restless as he lay back, his arms behind his head, his legs crossed lazily.
“I like her,” she said. “She’s been wonderful to me.”
“She tell you much about Jake and her?”
“What would she tell me? Just that she likes him.”
“Likes!” He hooted and then he said, “Yeah—yeah,” slow, and then, “Yeah, maybe she does only like him. Funny girl. She always has eyes.”
“What?”
“She’s always looking around. You know.”
“Yes,” Mitch said, not knowing at all.
“Drink some more of that beer,” he said. “We’re wasting good iced beer.”
“You know, I like beer OK now,” Mitch said with a frail semblance of excitement. “It’s not bad at all.”
“Good. Here—rest your head.”
He raised himself to a sitting position and spread his legs apart. He patted his chest lightly and said, “Here, baby—rest your head here. We’ll talk.”
Mitch moved over and put her head on his chest, a hand resting on either knee.
“I’m glad you’re so tall,” she confided. “I’m so tall myself.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re a long-legged gal, all right.”
“Why didn’t you talk coming up in the car? I was afraid you’d lost your tongue.”
“I didn’t,” he said. “I just wanted to think.”
“About what?” Mitch began to feel comfortable and easy with him. “What did you think about?”
His hands reached up and cupped her breasts quickly, and his knees held her in. “About this,” he said, reaching one hand up to the blouse and down to her slip and inside touching her flesh. He began to rub her breasts as she wiggled to be free.
Mitch whimpered slowly and softly and she could feel him moving around and forcing her back on the blanket and the tears came fast then. She was dizzy and exhausted and she could not pull herself up. Fighting desperately with him, she could not stop his hands from pulling her skirt up. A thin wail escaped from her mouth and she began to heighten it to a loud moaning sound.
“Shut up,” he snapped. “Shut up!”
Her moaning increased and some of the lost strength returned so that she kicked him and sent him back away from her. He stood up and glared down. “Mamma tell you not to?” he said angrily. “Mamma tell you sex is dirty?”
She began to cry hard, and sitting there sobbing, she did not listen to his words. For a long time she stayed like that, listening to him take the caps off the bottles, light cigarettes, and mumble dull words to her. She could hear him say that he was sorry and she had better not cry because Jake and Leda would be back, and then she could hear him curse and swallow the beer and whistle the way he whistled.
There were voices in the distance, ringing laughter, and the sound of them coming. She put her coat on and got up while Bud began folding the blanket.
Leda came down the fields ahead of Jake, running happily while he followed. “Mitch
