Ride a Cockhorse by Raymond Kennedy

Author:Raymond Kennedy
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-59017-504-0
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2012-06-19T04:00:00+00:00

By then, Mrs. Fitzgibbons had already departed the marsh with Matthew behind the wheel once more. They were tooling north along a dark stretch of Jarvis Avenue. Ever since Matthew had gotten back into the car, he had been more than scrupulous not to glance into the back seat, as he had good reason to suspect what was going on. Mrs. Fitzgibbons was sitting up just as before, but the young drum major could not be seen. She was holding his head between her legs.

At one point, it had been necessary for Mrs. Fitzgibbons to show the youth a flash of temper. He had not witnessed her anger before. “Listen!” she broke out. The resistance of a blushing, high school pretty boy who was on the make with an important banker exhausted her patience. “I’m not asking for the world!” That was when she seized and clutched his head to her loins. “Stop grousing and crybabying. Get busy! I want my bubble!” she shouted. “I want it now.”

She could not tell for sure, but it seemed once or twice that the unwilling youth was sobbing softly while ministering to her needs. Even after Matthew had started up the car, she continued to express bewilderment over his distaste for the task.

“It’s not a horror show,” she complained, as she began to undulate and rock her hips. She stared with a glazed, hypnotic expression out the windshield at the yellow stripe unfurling on the asphalt ahead. She had Terence’s head clamped comfortably below her. Matthew sat like a robot at the wheel. He was driving very slowly. “Nobody’s going to snap your picture. This is what grown-ups do for one another. Listen to him. He’s in pure clover, and he’s sniffling like a baby.”

Later, after Matthew had turned back down the mountain road in the dark, and Mrs. Fitzgibbons had begun undergoing rhythmic spasms that sent shudders up and down her body, she naturally gave off talking. But for the moment, she even included Matthew in her discourse.

“This is what came of their famous sexual revolution. This is what these youngsters learned. This is what all the shouting was about.” Mrs. Fitzgibbons had changed position. She had her knees up, her ankles lying crisscrossed on the small of Terence Sugrue’s back. “They know as much about sex as the mother of Jesus.”

“You’re right about that,” said Matthew.

“Of course, I am.” She kneaded and caressed the drum major’s golden head in rhythm with the thrust and retraction of her hips. “This little majorette is the envy of six states. Do you know what I could do for a boy like this?”

“It staggers the mind.”

“Anything I wanted. I could send him to college if I wanted. I could send him to work for Nate Solomon at the Shawmut Bank in Boston. I could hire him as my personal assistant and pay him a tidy fortune! I could do that at a stroke of the pen.”

“He doesn’t understand that.”

“I could talk myself blue in the face.

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