Read Online Flesh by Richard Laymon - Free Book Online Page B

Daddy.”
    “I do?” He looked down.
    Kimmy darted her finger up and poked his nose.
    “Oow! Y’got me!”
    Laughing, she sucked on her forefinger. Her eyes were eager with mischief. A Wet Willy was on its way.
    “Oh, no, you don’t,” Jake said, forcing her away before she could twist the wet finger in his ear. She giggled and tried to hold on, but he freed himself and put her down.
    Not in front of Harold, he thought.
    Then he wondered, with a tug of pain, if she ever gave Wet Willies to Harold.
    “Let’s get the show on the road,” he said.
    He reached down his hand. Kimmy took a firm grip on his forefinger and led the way.
    “You two have a good time,” Harold said as they approached him. He gave the overnight bag to Jake. His smile looked strained. “You’ll have her back tomorrow?”
    Jake nodded.
    They left. It was good to get out of the house. He smiled down at Kimmy.
    Her smile was gone. “Don’t I get to stay by you tomorrow?”
    “Not this time. Tomorrow’s Mommy’s birthday.”
    “I know that.” She gave him an annoyed look. She did not approve, at all, of being told what she already knew. Clearly demeaning.
    “Well, you want to be there for her party, don’t you?”
    “I s’pose.”
    “It’ll be fun.”
    He opened the passenger door for Kimmy, and lifted her onto the safety seat. While he strapped her in, she tucked Clew into the top of her bib overalls so the tiny gray head poked out like a kangaroo in its mother’s pouch.
    Then she stuck her forefinger into her mouth.
    “Oh, no, you don’t!”
    “Yes, I do!”
    Jake grabbed her wrist, but let himself be overpowered. The wet fingertip pushed into his ear and twisted. “Eaah! You got me!” Before she could get him again, he ducked out of the car.
    He hurried around and climbed in behind the steering wheel. Kimmy was ready to bestow another Wet Willy. She strained to reach him, but it was no good.
    “Saved by the car seat,” he said.
    “C’mere.”
    “Not a chance. Think I’m dumb?”
    “Uh-huh,” she said, nodding.
    “Wiseacre.” He pulled into the street. “So, what would you like to do today?”
    “Go to the moojies.”
    “The moojies it is. Anything special you want to see?”
    She made an eager face with her eyes wide and her brows high. “ Peter Pan.”
    “We saw Peter Pan last week.”
    “I really want to see Peter Pan again.”
    “Sure, why not. Maybe this time the crock will gobble up Captain Hook…”
    Gobble up.
    Ronald Smeltzer.
    Could’ve gone all day without thinking about that.
    “Can we eat at McDonalds?”
    “No.”
    “Daddy!” She shook her fist at him, grinning over the tiny knuckles.
    “Well, if you insist.”
    “Daddy, can I talk to you?”
    “Sure. Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”
    She braced an elbow on the padded armrest of her seat, and leaned toward him. She looked serious. “There isn’t any such thing as crocodiles, is there?”
    “What makes you think that?”
    “Well, because it’s just a moojie.”
    “That doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
    “Dracula and werewoofs and the mummy aren’t really real, you said so, so crocodiles aren’t really real, are they?”
    “Gotcha worried, has it?”
    “This is not funny.”
    “Crocks are real, but I wouldn’t worry about them.”
    “I do not want to get eaten.”
    Jake felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. “Well, you’ll just have to keep your eyes open. If you see a crock waddling your way, toss it a Twinkie and run. It’d much rather eat Twinkies than you.”
    “I’m not so sure.”

C HAPTER S EVEN
    With a fresh cup of coffee, Dana Norris returned to her table in a corner of the student union. She read the poem again, wrinkled her nose, and sighed.
    Why couldn’t this guy write stuff that made sense?
    “Salutations.”
    She looked up and found Roland standing in front of her table.
    Roland the Retard.
    He wasn’t actually retarded—brainy, in fact, but nobody would guess that by looking at