Resurrection Dreams by Richard Laymon Read Free Book Online Page A

the potato chips.
    She headed for the corner of the building. Just to make sure she wouldn’t look into the window and spot the guy on the floor, Melvin stood up and stared out at her. She caught a glimpse of him, and did as he expected—she looked the other way. He kept gazing at her, turning around when she reached the corner, and she kept looking elsewhere until there was no more window between them.
    This was working out just fine.
    Melvin figured she would come back into the office when she couldn’t find the guy in the restroom, but he preferred to take care of her out back where he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone driving past the station or stopping in for a fill-up.
    He hurried out of the office and around the corner. Walking alongside the building, he heard her knocking. Then her voice. “Rod? What’re you doing in there?”
    He reached the rear corner and stepped past it.
    She was facing the men’s room door. She knocked on it again. “Rod, you either answer me or I’m coming in.”
    Melvin stood motionless. She hadn’t noticed him.
    “All right for you, I’m coming in.” She turned the knob and pulled the door open. The light had been left on inside. She stood in the glow of it for a moment, then stepped through the doorway.
    As the door swung shut, Melvin started moving. When it was completely closed, he ran.
    He jerked it open and rushed in.
    The gal whirled around, letting go of the toilet stall’s door.
    This time, she didn’t try to avoid his eyes.
    Pretty hard to ignore me now, Melvin thought.
    “Get out of here,” she said. Her voice was high-pitched. She didn’t seem angry, yet, just surprised and confused as if she couldn’t believe he’d blundered into the restroom with her. “I’m in here. Get out.”
    “You’re in the men’s,” he said, and smiled.
    “I know that. I was looking for someone.”
    “Rod’s in the office.”
    “Okay.” She flapped a hand sideways, gesturing for him to step out of the way.
    Melvin didn’t move.
    Her head turned a bit as if she figured that glaring at Melvin from the corners of her eyes, instead of straight on, was somehow more intimidating. “You’d better just let me by.”
    “Gonna tell Rod on me?”
    She tipped her head back and kept staring at him. “I’m warning you.”
    With a shrug, Melvin stepped aside. He swept an arm toward the door.
    “That’s better,” she said. She walked toward the door, watching him with narrow eyes, looking sure of herself and eager to tell Rod about this creep who’d given her a hard time in the john. As she passed Melvin, she turned her face toward the door. She reached out and grabbed the knob. She pushed and the door opened.
    Melvin snatched her hair and jerked. She yelped. Her hand, still on the knob, slammed the door as she flew backward. He swept a foot out from under her, gave her hair another yank and let go and watched her go down. Her back slapped the tile floor and she skidded.
    Before she could start to get up, Melvin dropped onto her chest. Her breath whooshed out. Her eyes bugged. Her face went bright red. She squirmed, but her arms were pinned under Melvin’s knees.
    He lifted his shirt, peeled the cellophane away from his skin, folded the plastic film to double its thickness, and stretched it taut across her face.
    With his hands clamped to the sides of her head, he had a good view through the clear plastic. Her face was distorted, eyelids stretched sideways so she looked oriental like a robber in a stocking mask. Her nose, mashed down, had a white tip. The flattened lips of her wide mouth were pale. The disk of cellophane over her mouth crackled as she sucked and puffed. It fogged up.
    She bucked and twisted and writhed under Melvin, but he rode her like a bronco.
    Her tongue thrust into the plastic, making it bulge. Though the film didn’t break, it stretched and formed a bubble. When she drew in her tongue, the bubble snapped into her mouth. It puffed out with a soft whupping