Read Pin Online

Authors: Andrew Neiderman

Pin (17 page)

“There she is,” I whispered.

“Good,” he said. “Good.”

“What is it, Leon?” she called in a very hoarse, shrill voice. “Why are you bringing Pin upstairs?”

“He wants to be with you tonight,” I said. “He knows how you're feeling. He wants to be with you.” I drew closer.

“But remember? We said we'd never bring him upstairs, Leon. Leon, remember?”

“He wants to be with you, Ursula. We can't deny him. Not after all these years. Just this one night,” I said, coming to the top of the stairs. She had backed all the way to her room.

“No,” she said. “No, please take him back downstairs, Leon. I don't want him here tonight. Not tonight.”

“You're not being very hospitable, Ursula, and not very polite. It's not like you. She's not herself tonight, Pin.”

“I know,” he said. “That's why I wanted to come up.”

“You see, he just wants to help you.”

“No,” she said again. We had come to her doorway and she had backed up, almost to her bed.

“I don't understand you, Ursula. When mother and the doctor died, who did we go to? Who did we go to see and be with? Who comforted us? It was Pin. Have you forgotten all that?”

“Please, Leon, not tonight. I want to be alone, just with you.”

“Pin's quite hurt by all this. That's why he's being so quiet and so patient, I might add. Now, lie down there, Ursula.”

“No.”

“Lie down. Down.”

“Please, Leon, don't do this. Please,” she begged. She had backed up against the bed. When I took another step toward her, she sat on it. Her hands were up, cupping her face. “Please,” she said again, in a muffled voice. “Please.”

As I brought Pin closer, she had to move back on
the bed. She backed all the way to the other side, her back to the wall. I set him down on the bed.

“Now we're all together and safe,” I said. I could hear Ursula subdue a sob. “You should really be nicer to Pin, shouldn't you, Ursula? Shouldn't you?” I demanded.

“Yes,” she said. Her voice was barely audible.

“What?”

“Yes,” she repeated, growing louder.

“Remember how we all used to lie together in bed, with Pin between us?”

“No, no. We decided he wasn't to come upstairs anymore. We decided.”

“It was wrong. It was wrong to decide that. I realize it now.”

“I'm not going to do it. It was just a game then, something we did to keep ourselves amused, to keep from being lonely.”

“It was wrong to make such a decision,” I repeated, and I glared at her. “Touch him.”

“No.”

“TOUCH HIM!” I shouted. She hesitated. I stepped closer to the bed and unbuttoned Pin's jacket. “Touch him,” I said in a more pleasant voice. She hesitated, staring up at me. I nodded. “Go ahead, Ursula.”

“Please, Leon, please.” I stood by waiting. Finally she leaned forward and touched Pin's face as she used to.

“Good. Now help him get undressed.”

“Oh, God, no. I don't want to.”

“Why not? Because of Stan? Is that why?”

“No, Leon. We stopped doing this so long ago, didn't we? Why start again?” She was trying to sound sweet and understanding.

“Pin thinks we need it.”

“He's wrong.”

“Has he ever been wrong before when it came to us? Ever?”

“He's wrong this time. Believe me. Take him back down and you come up to stay with me. We'll talk and the night will pass. I promise I'll be all right.”

“Help him undress,” I repeated, much more firmly. Pin waited passively. Ursula leaned over and took off his jacket. I stood by watching. “That's good, Ursula,” I said. “It'll be good, just the way it was.” She didn't respond, but she worked a little faster. “Remember you used to say his body was cool, cool against yours? It was good, Ursula, good. It'll be good again.” She looked up at me, her eyes wide. I could see the old excitement awakening within her as I resurrected memories. She untied his shoes and took them off. Then she removed the socks. She unbuckled his pants and slid them down, moving slowly and silently. “He's still cool, isn't he? Isn't he?”

“Yes,” she said. She didn't look up. “Yes.”

I undressed quickly and the three of us lay there naked on the bed. At first there was only the sound of heavy breathing—mine, Pin's and Ursula's. I looked over. Ursula was holding Pin's hand. I thought that was good. Things were going fine. This was the way it was night after night until Ursula rebelled and demanded Pin be kept downstairs again. Sometimes we just fell asleep like this. Most of the time Pin and I had to comfort Ursula. She needed so much attention, so much patience and understanding.

“You want to feel his body against yours,” I said. “You want to do that.” There was no answer for a
while. I could see her fingers moving nervously in Pin's hand.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It will be like it was.”

I helped Pin turn to her slowly. She kept her eyes closed. Carefully I guided him onto her. Then her arms came up gradually, almost as if she had to struggle against some invisible strings holding them down on the bed. She embraced him and she ran her hands up and down his spine. Pin was silent, gentle. I waited.

“Oh, Pin,” she said. “I
am
afraid and I
am
lonely.”

“There, there,” I said. “Pin's here. He's with you.”

“Stay with me, Pin.”

“Easy. Relax. Easy.” Her breathing had quickened. Her head was moving slowly from side to side, her eyes still closed. Her lips were wet. She took deep breaths and her breasts lifted Pin's light body. Then gradually, almost reluctantly, she slid her feet toward her body until her knees were up. Pin's body then settled itself down, down between her thighs. She was pressing her pelvis up against him. I stroked her forehead and her hair. I touched her shoulders and her neck.

Her head moved faster and faster from side to side. Her mouth opened and closed as she gasped for more air, her tongue extending each time to touch Pin's face. I stroked the sides of her body and followed her smooth skin down to her thighs, gently squeezing as I went along. She was lifting her body up and down in slow rhythms now, pressing it harder and harder against Pin.

“He's cool, smooth. He's good and gentle. We're together and we're safe.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes.” Her rhythm increased and became harder, rougher, more demanding. Pin's body bounced on hers. I had to place a hand on his back to keep him from falling over on me. She got wild, just the way she used to. Pin was ecstatic. I could see the excitement and satisfaction building in his face too. She moaned and twisted herself in a frantic effort to quiet the violent sex that had built up within her. “Yes,” she said, “yes, oh yes.”

“We're together. You, me and Pin. It's good.” I didn't know if she could hear me, but I said it. She was kissing his face. She lifted her breasts so that the nipples turned into him. Her moans got louder and louder and more frequent. It went on and on and on until finally her body exhausted itself and began to slow down. Her hands dropped to her sides. She turned away from Pin and became quieter. I guided him off and she turned on her right side, facing the wall.

Without speaking, I dressed him again. Our work was done. Ursula had come back to us. As I lifted him into my arms and turned to leave the room, I heard her gentle sobbing. Both Pin and I smiled.

“It was a long time,” he said as we went down the stairs, “but I think it was what she needed.”

“No question. And she took to it. Everything in her wanted to take to it. She doesn't like being apart from us.”

“You go back up and spend some time with her. Just stay by her side for a while.”

“Right,” I said and put him back in his room. “See you in the morning,” I added and left him. I
felt great. When I got upstairs, Ursula was still sobbing softly, with her body turned to the wall.

“Hey,” I said, sitting beside her. “Hey, come on, don't cry. It's all right now. Everything's fine, good again.”

“NO, IT ISN'T,” she shouted, turning on me. She looked ugly, her face contorted. “I DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT. YOU MADE ME. YOU AND THAT … AND HIM. YOU'VE GOT SOME HOLD OVER ME, SOME POWER. I DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT, I DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT,” she repeated and pounded me on the chest. Then she cried harder.

“I know how you feel. I'm not mad. It's all right, really. It's all right,” I added, touching her shoulder. She pulled away. “There's no reason to feel this way, no reason.”

“Just leave me alone. LEAVE ME ALONE.”

“All right,” I said. “I will.” I got up and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I stood there for a moment and listened to her crying. “Damnit, damnit,” I said. I thought about telling Pin how she was acting but decided that I didn't want to upset him just when he was feeling so satisfied and confident. I went down and poured myself a drink. A little later the phone rang. It was Stan. His mother was dead.

Ursula sounded distorted on the telephone. Her voice seemed hollow and she spoke with exaggerated slowness. If Stan weren't disturbed himself, he probably would have noticed it, or else he thought he had just awakened her. He kept apologizing for calling so late. In the context of what he was saying, his apology sounded ridiculous. In fact, I thought the
whole conversation was hilarious and I had to muffle some laughter from time to time.

“I didn't know anyone else to call,” he said. “I just thought of you. I had to speak to someone. I'm sorry. My aunt is in no condition to talk.”

“It's all right. Really, Stan, it's all right. I wasn't asleep anyway,” she said. That made me laugh. What a front she was putting up for him. She couldn't stand any mention of death. I almost broke in on the conversation and said, “Who the hell are you bullshitting, Ursula? And while you're at it, tell him why you weren't asleep.”

“Do you want to come over?”

“No,” he said. “I'd better stay here. There'll be things to do in the morning too. I'll try to call you as soon as I can.”

“OK.”

“I'm really glad I could talk to you.”

“Me too,” she said. What slop, I thought. “Good night, Stan.”

I heard them both hang up. Then I put all the lights out and sat on the couch, waiting. A few moments later, Ursula called for me. I didn't answer. She called and called. I heard her go check to see if I was in my room or in the bathroom. Then she called again. I didn't answer. She had told me to leave her alone. She stopped calling and went back to her own room. After a while, she came out and called again. This time she pleaded for me to answer. I came to the foot of the stairs. It was pitch-dark because I had switched off the light in the living room. She called again. I started up the stairs slowly.

“Leon, why don't you answer?”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“I'm sorry.” She went to the switch for the hall lights.

“Don't. I want to stay in the dark. I feel like being in the dark.” She didn't touch the switch, but I knew she couldn't stand talking to me this way.

“That was Stan on the phone. His mother died,” she said, as if that was the reason she needed to have the lights on.

“Go to bed, Ursula,” I said. I walked past her to my room. She took hold of my arm to stop me.

“Can't we talk a little first? Just stay with me for a little longer. Please.”

“If you want to talk, you'll have to come into my room this time,” I said, and I went into my room and crawled into my bed. A moment later, Ursula was standing beside me. I didn't say anything so she slipped under the covers.

“I don't know why death frightens me, Leon. It doesn't seem to frighten you much, does it?”

“No.”

“You're more like the doctor than I am.”

“I'm not at all like him.”

“You've got some of his strengths.”

“Maybe, but I'm not really like him. Pin always says I'm essentially a different person.”

“If they have the funeral tomorrow, will you go with me?” I didn't respond. “Will you?”

“Maybe. If I'm in the mood.”

“Please.”

“You'll have Stan, won't you?”

“He'll have to be with his aunt. Please.”

“OK,” I said. “Anything, just so you'll go to sleep and let me get some rest too.”

“That's my Leon, my good Leon,” she said,
stroking my hair. It annoyed me and I made her stop it.

“Go to sleep now, Ursula.”

“OK,” she said in a very subdued voice. She got out of the bed and walked back to her room. I watched her and felt a little sorry for being so rough. She looked so pathetic and frightened. I waited until I heard her lay down in her bed and then I called out to her.

“Are you all right now?”

“Yes. Yes, I'm all right.”

I turned over and looked up into the darkness. Pin was sleeping below in the darkness too, I thought. Lately I had been thinking more and more about his being alone down there. I was thinking that I might move his bed up into my room.

When I woke up in the morning, I saw that Ursula was already up and dressed. It took me a few moments to sift out my thoughts and fully wake up. I realized that today we would again confront death. I remembered when I was very little and I had seen this dog killed by a car. It had been left on the side of the road for a road crew to pick it up. Flies buzzed about its opened and sticky mouth. Its pale pink tongue looked frozen stuck to the side. That morning I asked Pin in the office if the doctor could bring the dog back to life.

“Couldn't he give him a ‘jection?”

“Oh, no,” Pin said. “Even the doctor can't do that.”

“Could he do it if it happened to me?”

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