At the Shores by Thomas Rogers

Author:Thomas Rogers [Rogers, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4804-4982-4
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2013-10-21T17:24:00+00:00

“You’re higher than Joanne,” Rufus told him. “I am not,” said Jerry. “That’s a real song Anne and I used to sing.” “That?” Rufus said. “Well, the words were different,” Jerry admitted. It was the Baileytown song. He sang it for Rufus. “That’s not the same at all,” Rufus said, only it was the same, and Jerry felt the way he had felt on those spring weekends when they drove out to open the cabin. Something wonderful was about to happen.

In fact this was even better than those weekends, because it was unexpected. For the last few days, as he’d gotten swept up in the wedding, he’d stopped thinking about Michigan City. Now, as if to reward his goodness, he was being taken there. He felt buoyed up and borne along. It was how he felt in Scammons Gardens among the Hard Core; it was how he felt after practice when he and his pals went off to Stineway’s; it was how he felt on Halloween when they all roistered through the streets of Hyde Park. His strength was trebled by his companions. He would bound up the stairs of the house. He would not be afraid of catwomen. What was there to be afraid of? “Do you think we should wear something?” he asked suddenly. Wearing something meant using a contraceptive. “I mean, I haven’t got one with me.” “You don’t need one,” Rufus said. Jerry relaxed. He didn’t need one. Everything was all right.

But when they finally found the house and parked across the street from it, he was not so sure. “It doesn’t look like much,” said Rufus, surveying the place. It was an ordinary-looking two-story house on what appeared to be a rundown residential street. Lights shone from behind drawn blinds, but the porch was dark and there was no welcome mat out, no doorman in a braided uniform to say, “Right in here, boys.” Rufus shook his head. “It sure doesn’t look like much.” To Jerry it didn’t look like anything. Indeed, as the three of them crossed the street, a terrible suspicion began to gather in his mind. Suppose Walker had lied? Suppose it was a hoax? Suppose this was just an ordinary home? Suppose, in fact, that there were no cathouses anywhere? Maybe they were just myths—like undertows on the lake. All his life Jerry had heard people talking about undertows. He’d been warned about them, but he knew they just didn’t exist. Maybe prostitution was like that. Guys talked about cathouses, and fathers warned you against going to them, but in fact there were no such places. The house they were approaching was probably just the home of a poor family getting ready for bed. That was why lights were on in an upstairs window. “Maybe we shouldn’t bother them,” he said to Rufus and Phil. “Bother who?” said Rufus, starting up the porch steps. “The people who live here,” said Jerry. Rufus paused. “Aren’t you sure of the address?” Jerry said, “It doesn’t look like the right place.

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