Doc's Place

Chapter 4 | Part 2

Monday, October 1, 1984

Carry my bag inside where I show my ID. Takes only a few minutes to register. A slim beauty offers to take me on a tour but I decline. I know my way around a gym. In the locker room, I change into athletic shoes, shorts, a sports bra and top, and then tie my hair into a ponytail.

Among the treadmills and other machines, I stretch my muscles with some yoga and then take off running on the treadmill for a half hour. Put in another ten minutes on the stair stepper machine. It's almost six. Back in the locker room, I grab my racquet, glove, eye protection and a brand-new can of racquetballs.

Carlos is standing in the doorway of a glass-walled court with a big observation area talking to George and some other guys. They turn to watch my approach, staring. I have great tits over a flat, muscular stomach. Guys love my body, especially when I'm sweaty like this.

"Carlos says you're spotting him the serve," says George. "You may not get it back."

"Don't listen to his jive," I say. "Thinks women are creampuffs, don't you, Carlos?" That gets a chuckle from the crowd of guys, several of which are cops.

"Equal opportunity, Price," he says. "You got a right to get your ass kicked just like anybody else." That gets a laugh.

Toss him the can of balls. Pull on my glove and my eye protection as I watch him open the can and take out a ball. He opens the door and walks to the service line. Follow and close the door. Carlos bounces the ball twice, looks back at me, sees my nod and slams a beautiful corner serve. It drops almost to the floor in the left back corner.

Unfortunately for him, my backhand is more deadly than my forehand. Wait until the ball is two inches from the floor and snap it into the front wall for a rollout ace that comes dribbling out on the floor. Outside, the guys moan. Pick up the ball and walk to the service line.

Carlos is still standing there, his mouth open. He turns to look at me, his eyes wide and says, "I get one or two of those a game."

"I miss one or two of those a year," I whisper. Wait until he gets set and serve a high bouncer that he fails to scrape off the back wall. "One," I tell him. The next plops into the corner and dies. "Two," I say, glancing at him and serve an obvious bouncer that he tries to slam by me. I whap it into the ceiling and it falls down along the back wall. "Three," I tell him.

"Hey Carlos," yells one of the guys.

"What?" he says, getting set. He lunges for the serve, barely catches it but I wait until it's two inches from the floor and forehand it diagonally center front. The ball rolls to the side and stops. His shoulders slump.

"Four," I tell him.

"You in trouble, man," yells the guy.

Two games, twelve-oh. Carlos drips sweat, gasping as he tries to catch his breath. He trudges out of the court, sits down and rests his elbows on his knees.

Sit next to him and throw my arm over his massive shoulders. "Should have chosen tennis, Carlos," I tell him. "You might have kicked my ass but not in a racquetball court. I've been sponsored for five years. Won both Pacific and Rocky Mountain."

"Who beat you at nationals?" he gasps.

"Kartchner," I tell him. "Two games, twelve-ten."

"Jesus Christ, Price," he says, "You could have fucking told me. Kartchner?"

"I leave the talking to guys like you," I tell him.

"Yeah," says one of the cops. "Stick with tennis. That's your game, Carlos."

"You guys are assholes," says Carlos. "Did I ask your advice?"

"Kerry North lost close ones to Odom and Kartchner last year. You should play him, Jill," says the young guy.

"You know where I work." I slap Carlos on the back and walk to the locker room. "Thanks for the games," I tell him.

"Hey, where ya goin', Jill?" calls Carlos. "We're headin' out for pizza and beer."

"See you tomorrow, Carlos," I say, waving without turning.

Grab my bag from the locker, toss it in the Buick's trunk and drive home. After a shower, I cut up some fresh vegetables, steam them and eat while I work on my thesis. Seems like I've been working on it forever, but it's only been a couple months. About ten, I realize I'm horny. Maybe I'll visit Lucy, the woman I met in a bar when I was out here for my interviews. Put together some clothes for work tomorrow.

Five minutes later, I'm driving to Lucy's condo. Park in the complex and walk to a little cedar grove outside her kitchen window where it's dark. Lucy is dressed in a frumpy robe, her hair still wet from a shower. Looks like she's alone, preparing tea, maybe. Move to the door and give it a tap.

After checking the peephole, she opens the door and pushes open the storm door. "Hello Jill. I see you're back," she says.

"Are you going to invite me in?" I ask.

She holds open the door so I walk into the kitchen where the water is boiling and set down my overnight bag. Pour hot water on her tea bag and fix another cup for myself. After I close the kitchen blinds, I set the cups on her table and sit down. Lucy is standing in the kitchen doorway. Look at her, and ask, "Did you miss me, Lucy?"

"Yes, Jill, I missed you." She walks to the table, pulls out a chair and sits facing me, her hands folded in her lap. She looks my way, but she does not look into my eyes. Watch her, sipping my tea. She asks, "So did you get the job?"

"Yes, I worked today," I tell her. "How about you?" Lucy is day shift supervisor of cashiers at the Hilton across the street from Doc's Place.

"Monday and Tuesday are my days off," she says, "So, did you just stop by to chat, or what, Jill?"

"No, I came by to stay the night."

"You want to start seeing me again?"

"Yes."

"Okay," she says, and finally looks into my eyes, "For how long, Jill?"

"What difference does that make, Lucy?"

"It gives me a time frame so I'm not shocked when you leave."

"Are you going to take me to bed or do you want to drink tea and talk some more?"

She stands up and says, "Come on. You probably want some sleep after working all day."

Reach up and open her robe, pulling her to me. She is naked. I lay my face against her stomach, my fingertips at the back of her knees. A sigh escapes me.

"You really did miss me too, didn't you, Jill?" she asks.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

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Doc's Place Chat
© 2008, Michel Grover.
Chapter 4 | Part 2
Late Spring 2008

Mic :

In the left frame, I'm posting Doc's Place, one of my copyrighted stories. I'll post a part of a chapter, wait for a while so people may leave comments or questions and then post those I find interesting.

Jules :

You know what that scene with Lucy reminds me of? A freakin' vampire, man. Jill can't relax until she knows she's gonna feed. Once she's in the room with hands on her victim-to-be, then she releases a sigh and relaxes.

Suze :

Okay, but I see something else. I see a woman who needs sex and, yes, some social interaction. When she knows she's going to get it, then she sighs and relaxes.

Lucia :

Back up a little. Jill didn't even realize she was horny until after she finishes eating supper and working on her thesis. By the way, Jill, who does your grocery shopping, laundry and so on?

Jill :

Those are security issues. The staff, usually Yoshiro, shops for my groceries and runs my laundry. Other security people keep the place clean.

Alice :

You allow a man to go through your clothes and your refrigerator?

Suze :

What about your privacy?

Benny :

In the patterns of your mind, baby.

Jill :

So that's what you're building now, Benny? Patterns?

Benny :

Yeah, turns out the colors have textures but as I watch them, the patterns are the key. Course, I make em shift around and change shape constantly so no one can figure what's where.

Jill :

Sounds as though you've got it workin, Benny. Don't forget to use your other senses.

Benny :

Workin on that now

Doug :

What are you two talking about?

Amalie :

Benny and Jill are continuing their discussion from the last chat session about how to store and retrieve things in your mind.

Doug :

What do you do to help you remember things, Amalie?

Mic :

I'm sorry, did you get your question about privacy answered, Suze?

Suze :

Well my point is that privacy includes things in your house or apartment, not just your mind. Don't you have any privacy, Jill?

Jill :

The safe. A few things hidden away in hidey-holes here and there.

Suze :

If you got amnesia, how would you remember where they were?

Jill :

Sui has all that information and so does Ume.

Carlo :

I'm going to play Doug and ask a seemingly stupid question. Why did we just read about this racquetball game? What does Jill playing this game have to do with the story?

Les :

Kerry North, maybe. He's one of the executives. Jill plays him later, probably kicks his ass.

Carlo :

Doesn't necessarily hustle the plot along, does it? Come on somebody, help me out here. Why is this game essential to the plot?

Maria :

You're right, Carlo, that is such a Doug question. Hey, the racquetball game is physical, like the sex later with Lucy will be. Maybe this is how Jill unwinds.

Alan :

That may be true, Maria, but focus on Carlo's question about how the game moves the plot. What's this game got to do with the big picture at Doc's Place?

Suze :

Lucia, you know writing. What's going on?

Lucia :

Maybe you're confusing the issue by focusing on how it relates to the plot, Carlo. It's not just a novel. This is a new medium, the Internet. The medium is the message, remember? Maybe we should look at that.

Amalie :

You may have something there, Lucia. May I make a suggestion?

Carlo :

Sure, Amalie. You got some ideas about what this game has to do with the story? What are we missing, girl?

Amalie :

Let's ask our furniture mover.

Carlo :

Benny, of course! What's the game got to do with the story, man?

Benny :

Your focus on the game throws you off the real point, Carlo. Don't look at the game. Look at what's around it. Besides, it's no big deal right now. You'll understand when the time is right.

Lucia :

No, no, Benny, you don't understand. In writing, you remove every detail that does not move the plot along—everything. Same with movie plots.

Benny :

No, Lucia and the rest of you, you don't understand. It's as you said earlier. This is not writing in the traditional sense like a novel or a movie plot. This is a message in a new medium. Look Carlo, as you first began reading about the game, who did you think would win?

Carlo :

I thought Jill would win. So what?

Benny :

Maria, when you first read that Jill was horny, did you have any doubt whether Jill was going to have sex with Lucy?

Maria :

None, but what's significant about that?

Benny :

Suze, we just reviewed Peter's and Jill's plan about what's going to happen. Any doubt about whether Jill will make the plan work?

Suze :

No doubt whatsoever. Jill will succeed on every point. I can almost guarantee it.

Benny :

Come on, people. I'm 12yrs old. Do I have to do all the work?

Amalie :

Earlier, Lucia, you said this is a message with a new medium. Let's go back to that.

Lucia :

There's no drama. We all know what's going to happen. Is that it?

Maria :

It's us. It's the process. That's what's interesting. Not how the story will turn out, because we already know that. Benny, is that it?

Benny :

Can't believe you people. Yes, that's part of it, but I told you, your focus on the game draws you away from the point. Jill is a master of martial arts, literally getting away with murder, not telling the cops a thing, drawing attention away from the sale of the casino by drawing everyone's attention to the bumbling executives. She got you to focus on the game and visiting Lucy—action and sex—by ignoring both. What does that tell you?

Amalie :

She's trying to distract us.

Benny :

Yes but from what?

Amalie :

God damn it, Benny, I don't know. Tell me!

Ian :

Told you the girl could cuss like a sailor.

Benny :

No.

Les :

Why not, you little prick?

Benny :

Oh so now I'm a prick. That hurts me man, especially coming from a brother.

Les :

Sorry man, I forgot myself. I apologize. Now, will you tell us?

Benny :

No, but I'll nudge the process along with one and only one hint. How's that?

Lucia :

That's it Benny. I'm coming to Canada and kicking your ass.

Jules :

Now you've gone from a pervert to a child abuser, Lucia. Kid's only 12yrs old.

Lucia :

Oh damn it. Sorry Benny, I didn't mean it.

Benny :

Hint: remember what Jill said about standing right beside a secret passageway.

Suze :

Don't look at it, she said. Don't even think about it, you said to her, for fear they might read my thoughts and figure it out. And Jill said, exactly.

Les :

So, what's the secret passage we're not seeing, Benny?

Benny :

Told you I'd give you a hint, not the whole secret around her deception. Figure it out. It's right in front of your face. In fact, you were discussing it earlier.

Amalie :

Is it something revelatory about Jill?

Benny :

Not just Jill—everything. That's why they distracted you.

Carlo :

Hey Marcus, how high you think this kid's IQ is?

Marcus :

Probably a lot higher than 180, which makes him one hell of a lot smarter than me, compadre.

Ian :

What were we talking about earlier? Jules, you said Jill was a vampire.

Jules :

Said her behavior reminded me of one, not that she was one.

Les :

This is frustrating. Lucia, didn't you tell Mic to get another woman in here? Mic, bring in somebody who can give us the story behind this deception.

Mic :

Working on it. Not ready yet.

Lucia :

Somebody out there has to have it.

Maria :

Mic, do you know?

Jill :

Don't look at me. My IQ's a flat 100. Look up common man in the dictionary—my photo.

Mic :

Lot of discussion going on around the forums and chat boards but no one's sure.

Suze :

Jill?

Jill :

What?

Steph :

Ooh! I could just scream. Benny, why won't you tell us?

Benny :

Got deceptions of my own, man. Besides, like I said, it's too early to sweat about that right now. You guys are always thinking ahead. Live the moment. Right, Jill?

Jill :

Right, live the moment.