Odnośniki
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- Gordon Dickson Dragon 02 The Dragon Knight (v1.4)
- Gordon Dickson Dragon 07 The Dragon and the Gnarly King (v1.2) (lit)
- Lyn Hamilton [Archeological Mystery 01] The Xibalba Murders (v1.0) [lit]
- Lynn Abbey Chronicles Of Athas 04 Cinnabar Shadows (v1)
- Harry Turtledove Crosstime 04 The Disunited States of America (v1.0)
- LE Modesitt Eschbach 03 Ghost of the White Nights (v1.0)
- Yasmine Galenorn Sisters of the Moon 3 Darkling (v1.0)
- Gordon Dickson Childe 01 Dorsai (v1.1)
- Loius L'Amour Reilly's_Luck_v1.5_(BD)
- Linda Farstein AC 02 Likely to Die (v1.5)
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been farmland when Dwayne was a boy. There had been an apple orchard here.
Dwayne forgot all about Patty Keene, but she certainly hadn't forgotten him. She
would get up enough nerve that night to call him on the telephone, but Dwayne wouldn't
be home to answer. He would be in a padded cell in the County Hospital by then.
And Dwayne wandered over to admire a tremendous earth-moving machine which
had cleared the site and dug the cellar hole. The machine was idle now, caked with
mud. Dwayne asked a white workman how many horsepower drove the machine. All
the workmen were white.
The workman said this: "I don't know how many horsepower, but I know what we call
it."
"What do you call it?" said Dwayne, relieved to find his echolalia was subsiding.
"We call it The Hundred-Nigger Machine," said the workman. This had reference to a
time when black men had done most of the heavy digging in Midland City.
The largest human penis in the United States was fourteen inches long and two and a
half inches in diameter.
The largest human penis in the world was sixteen and seven-eighths inches long and
two and one-quarter inches in diameter.
The blue whale, a sea mammal, had a penis ninety-six inches long and fourteen
inches in diameter.
One time Dwayne Hoover got an advertisement through the mail for a penis-extender,
made out of rubber. He could slip it over the end of his real penis, according to the ad,
and thrill his wife or sweetheart with extra inches. They also wanted to sell him a lifelike
rubber vagina for when he was lonesome.
Dwayne went back to work at about two in the afternoon, and he avoided
everybody because of his echolalia. He went into his inner office, and he ransacked
his desk drawers for something to read or think about. He came across the brochure
which offered him the penis-extender and the rubber vagina for lonesomeness. He had
received it two months before. He still hadn't thrown it away.
The brochure also offered him motion pictures such as the ones Kilgore Trout had
seen in New York. There were still photographs taken from the movies, and these
caused the sex excitation center in Dwayne's brain to send nerve impulses down to an
erection center in his spine.
The erection center caused the dorsal vein in his penis to tighten up, so blood could
get in all right, but it couldn't get out again. It also relaxed the tiny arteries in his penis,
so they filled up the spongy tissue of which Dwayne's penis was mainly composed, so
that the penis got hard and stiff like a plugged-up garden hose.
So Dwayne called Francine Pefko on the telephone, even though she was only
eleven feet away. "Francine ?" he said.
"Yes?" she said.
Dwayne fought down his echolalia. "I am going to ask you to do something I have
never asked you to do before. Promise me you'll say yes."
"I promise," she said.
"I want you to walk out of here with me this very moment," he said, "and come with
me to the Quality Motor Court at Shepherdstown."
Francine Pefko was willing to go to the Quality Motor Court with Dwayne. It was her
duty to go, she thought especially since Dwayne seemed so depressed and jangled.
But she couldn't simply walk away from her desk for the afternoon, since her desk was
the nerve center of Dwayne Hoover's Exit Eleven Pontiac Village.
"You ought to have some crazy young teen-ager, who can rush off whenever you
want her to," Francine told Dwayne.
"I don't want a crazy teen-ager," said Dwayne. "I want you."
"Then you're going to have to be patient," said Francine. She went back to the
Service Department, to beg. Gloria Browning, the white cashier back there/to man her
desk for a little while.
Gloria didn't want to do it. She had had a hysterectomy only a month before, at the
age of twenty-five after a botched abortion at the Ramada Inn down in Green County,
on Route 53, across from the entrance to Pioneer Village State Park.
There was a mildly amazing coincidence here: the father of the destroyed fetus was
Don Breedlove, the white gas-conversion unit installer who had raped Patty Keene in
the parking lot of the Bannister Memorial Field-house.
This was a man with a wife and three kids.
Francine had a sign on the wall over her desk, which had been given to her as a joke
at the automobile agency's Christmas party at the new Holiday Inn the year before.
It spelled out the truth of her situation. This was it:
Gloria said she didn't want to man the nerve center. "I don't want to man anything,"
she said.
But Gloria took over Francine's desk anyway. "I don't have nerve enough to commit
suicide," she said, "so I might as well do anything anybody says in the service of
mankind."
Dwayne and Francine headed for Shepherdstown in separate cars, so as not to call
attention to their love affair. Dwayne was in a demonstrator again. Francine was in her
own red GTO. GTO stood for Gran Turismo Omologato. She had a sticker on her
bumper which said this:
It was certainly loyal of her to put that sticker on her car. she was always doing loyal
things like that, always rooting for her man, always rooting for Dwayne.
And Dwayne tried to reciprocate in little ways. For instance, he had been reading
articles and books on sexual intercourse recently. There was a sexual revolution going
on in the country, and women were demanding that men pay more attention to women's
pleasure during sexual intercourse, and not just think of themselves. The key to their
pleasure, they said, and scientists backed them up, was the clitoris, a tiny meat cylinder
which was right above the hole in women where men were supposed to stick their much
larger cylinders.
Men were supposed to pay more attention to the clitoris, and Dwayne had been
paying a lot more attention to Francine's, to the point where she said he was paying too
much attention to it. This did not surprise him. The things he had read about the clitoris
had said that this was a danger that a man could pay too much attention to it.
So, driving out to the Quality Motor Court that day, Dwayne was hoping that he would
pay exactly the right amount of attention to Francine's clitoris.
Kilgore Trout once wrote a short novel about the importance of the clitoris in love-
making. This was in response to a suggestion by his second wife, Darlene, that he
could make a fortune with a dirty book. She told him that the hero should understand
women so well that he could seduce anyone he wanted. So Trout wrote The Son of
Jimmy Valentine.
Jimmy Valentine was a famous made-up person in another writer's books, just as
Kilgore Trout was a famous made-up person in my books. Jimmy Valentine in the other
writer's books sandpapered his fingertips, so they were extrasensitive. He was a safe-
cracker. His sense of feel was so delicate that he could open any safe in the world by
feeling the tumblers fall.
Kilgore Trout invented a son for Jimmy Valentine, named Ralston Valentine. Ralston
Valentine also sandpapered his fingertips. But he wasn't a safe-cracker. Ralston was so
good at touching women the way they wanted to be touched, that tens of thousands of
them became his willing slaves. They abandoned their husbands or lovers for him, in
Trout's story, and Ralston Valentine became President of the United States, thanks to
the votes of women.
Dwayne and Francine made love in the Quality Motor Court. Then they stayed in bed
for a while. It was a water bed. Francine had a beautiful body. So did Dwayne. "We
never made love in the afternoon before," said Francine.
"I felt so tense," said Dwayne.
"I know," said Francine. "Are you better now?"
"Yes." He was lying on his back. His ankles were crossed. His hands were folded
behind his head. His great wang lay across his thigh like a salami. It slumbered now.
"I love you so much," said Francine. She corrected herself. "I know I promised not to
say that, but that's a promise I can't help breaking all the time." The thing was: Dwayne
had made a pact with her that neither one of them was ever to mention love. Since [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]