Approximate length: x,xxx words, xx pages
- Story Excerpt -
"Gotcha, Charlie"!
or
"I'll See You In My Dreams"
by
Elaine Ruman Long
and
Gordon Hayes
Lean and beautiful, intelligent and desirable. That's how men usually described her.
Especially, whenever they were trying to pick her up. Late twenties, blond hair, blue
eyes, she was now doing quite well for herself.
Betty Harvard stood five feet, seven inches tall in stocking feet and proudly carried
about 120 lean and mean, pounds on her bones. It was these looks, but more the treatment
she got because of them, that had worn her thin on the subject of relationships. Betty
didn't want her past following her around throughout the rest of her life.
Betty's attractiveness had earned her the other girls' envy in High School.
By the time she was sixteen, she had the body and
demeanor of a mature, sensual woman. A modern, leaner Marilyn Monroe. Possibly, it was
the other girls' hidden feelings of guilt, at acts that they had felt obligated to
perform for the boys, that would have been a legacy that could have followed her
long after High School. Had she not gone far away for her education, life in this
small Midwestern town could have been somewhat unpleasant. At least in Betty's mind.
Therefore, it was Betty's bane to have been desired by all the boys, and envied by the
other girls. This made for a situation that made remaining a virgin throughout high school,
somewhat more than a trial to deal with. Even those boys turned down for her intimate
attentions, had accepted in grim defeat, that she had been perfectly pleasant, wonderfully
reticent, and exceedingly gracious in her successes at avoiding their ploys. They still liked her.
Since Betty began to make it on her own, she had avoided singles gatherings like
"The Plague. " "Looking for Mr. Goodbar" had scared her off long ago to the free and
too open of a lifestyle, of Big City Dating Habits.
*
It was spring in Chicago. A week passed with no brutal changes in Betsy's daily
routine. Finally, she received a call at work saying that her house would be ready
that night, she could move in at any time.
So, Betty spent a few hours after work that night, moving things in, but stayed
in her old apartment one last night. She was aching to make the final move. Tomorrow
would be soon enough. Betty breakfasted, headed into downtown, then breezed through
her work, trying not to think about her coworkers attempts at dragging her out this
evening. She simply did not want to go. It would just be another mixer anyway.
Rather than from any puritan desire to save herself for some future husband, the
reason Betty was avoiding the party really had more to do with her desire to break in
her new home, than for anything else. More likely than not, she was only missing having
to fend off some brusk, young over-achiever from the office. Not that she hadn't tried
it a few times, but something--something deep down inside her, would always scream at
her to escape. Besides, she always had her work to flounder around in.
*
It was well beyond quitting time. Betty was just leaving her Law Firm. It was getting
late and she simply couldn't wait to get home--back to the house of her fantasies.
She would change out of her Attorney's uniform, today, a rich, dark blue power suit,
and make herself a--peanut butter sandwich. Finally! She could have her own sandwich,
in her own home! How could that NOT taste good? ! How could ANY party improve on that
feeling? At last! Tonight, her first night spent in a newly built home of her own design.
It was the attainment of a Dream that she had been saving for, over the past five years.
Arriving home after a particularly grueling drive along the freeway, Betty slowly drove
up her new circular driveway. She parked the car, shut off the engine and took out her
sparkling new aluminum house keys. Betty turned the key in the lock, and opened the door.
She turned on the lights and then, just stood there, looking around--thinking.
"Yeoowwwwww! " she eventually blurted out, perhaps far too loud, but not joyously enough
for her emotions. "Finally!" `This is all mine. ' She actually had to say it again, out loud,
before she would believe herself.
"This is all mine. "
Betty kicked off her shoes and walked around on her thick, new rugs, and eventually ended
up in the kitchen. She opened her wine safe, pulled out a bottle of vintage champagne, and
then set about filling a glass with Cordon Rouge.
Extraordinarily
pleased with herself, Betty took her crystal champagne glass and went upstairs. She changed
out of her working clothes and into much more comfortable ones. Walking around the house with
her glass of champagne, she was soon fixing, straightening up and just generally fussing around
her new house. After expending some of her "just-moved-into-the-new-house" excitement, Betty
fixed herself a simple, but gourmet dinner. After a little while longer still, she was actually
able to eat some of it.
Finally, happily full to the brim, Betty settled down to watch a little TV. A "Jif" commercial
appeared as the screen lit up. Suddenly she realized that the peanut butter sandwich she had so
been looking forward to for weeks, was going to have to wait. Well, she thought, she would just
have to get to it later--maybe at around 3 AM. After all, she had tomorrow off to get organized
around the house.
`Party! Party! Party!' She thought. Though a one person
extravaganza, only. At or about 3: 30 AM, Betty decided she had had enough fruit of the vine and
finally decided to break into the peanut butter. Shortly after that, she didn't feel so well and
decided to call it an evening. Betty got into bed, picked up the book she had been reading now
for several nights, with a short interim for the move, and snuggled into her down comforter. Her
attempt to alter her attention from her stomach to the book waned quickly and the book soon found
its way to her lap.
Betty wasn't really much of one for dating. She read quite a lot and was satisfied with her
life. At least, for the most part. She looked around at the clutter filling up her new room as
her eyes began to slip closed.
Tonight, Betty had no need to read herself to sleep.
*
As soon as Betty began to doze, her dreams swallowed her into their very special domain. She
dreamed she was walking down a dark street, nearing some water. She heard some footsteps gliding
up behind her.
Trembling, she slowly turned around to see what she could. A large, burly man, with what looked
like a blindingly bright butcher knife, gently held in his hand, was steadily advancing toward her
through the darkness.
Fear struck. Betty began running. Her legs were pumping, her muscles were aching, but the scenery
was just not flying past her the way it should. Betty started to scream. She woke up, the perspiration
clouding her face with terror.
Six o'clock A. M. Betty put the clock back on the bed side table, leaned back and looked herself
over in the mirror across the room. Both bed and comforter were wet, the sheets tightly twisted
into damp linen knots, the blankets, strewn on the floor.
A bright orange ball of a sun gaily shone through her bedroom window. She got out of bed and
opened the window, letting the fresh air in. A sigh broke from deep within her throat as she leaned
against the window frame. She allowed the warm morning air to wash away the sweat from her skin.
It was a pleasantly fanned, unusually warm spring breeze which flowed over her, playing her nightgown
out gently into the room behind her.
Betty took a deep, shaky breath. Her trembling moist skin continued to dry in the morning breeze,
already vague testament to the evaporating night terrors of moments before.
She was happy that it was only a Dream.
End of Excerpt for "Gotcha, Charlie!"
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