The Golem Part 9

Seth watched in secret from bed. Just the image of her there, the smooth white skin and s.h.i.+ny black hair, the curves of her nude shoulders and back, got him half aroused. But half's about all I can muster right now, he admitted. In the three days they'd been here, their s.e.x life had exploded. Three times a day-not bad for pus.h.i.+ng fifty. And last night...Jeez. She rode me like I was a mechanical bull...

"Oh, you b.u.g.g.e.r!" she shrieked after a sudden wet sucking sound. Obviously she'd just lost a confrontation with a Cancer Vamp. "And I forgot to save when I got out of the Cove of Diverticulum..."

"Sounds like you're halfway through the Gastric Colonnade," Seth said, leaning up from bed.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggled when she quickly turned. "Oh, sorry! Didn't mean to wake you up. I get too caught up in this."

"Well, that's a good thing."

She grinned, her hair half over her face, then turned back to the game. "I never thought that game-testing would be this fun. These Cancer Vamps are bad enough, but I can never kill that d.a.m.n Vomitor before he gets me."

"Ten blasts of the Laser or a full-charge burst from the Ultrasound," Seth tipped her off. "The thing about the Vomitor is you need lots of Neutralizer Tabs in your health pack."

"But there aren't any!"

"Check the Polyps; open them with your Scalpel. Some of them contain goodies."

"Now you tell me!"

An alarm beeped downstairs; Judy bobbed up. "Coffee's ready. I'll be right back." And in a nude flash she whisked out of the room.

G.o.d, I'm lucky... Seth rose and pulled on a robe. He glanced around with a satisfied smile. The entire house stood in perfect order now, most of the boxes unpacked and everything in its place. Their routine was already forming; Seth was back to work on the House of Flesh sequel, and when Judy wasn't testing the add-on levels for the first game, she spent several hours per day in her own office, sprucing up her job applications.

Seth stretched, let his back crack, then walked to the open window. The switchgra.s.s fields stretched as far as he could see. We wanted seclusion, we got it. They hadn't even been into town yet, whichever town that might be: Somner's Cove or Lowensport. Hopefully there are some good restaurants somewhere, and a movie theater would be nice. Suddenly the room filled with the luxurious aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. Judy padded over and gave him a cup, then slipped an arm around him and gazed out the window.

"Uh...I know you've got that *nudist' streak, which is fine with me," Seth stumbled. "But do you really want to stand buck naked in front of an open window?"

"Yes. And I'm not a nudist-that's so gauche."

"That's right. I forgot, it's not nudism anymore, it's naturalism-"

"No, no, no, I've told you a million times," she giddily complained. "It's naturism. Naturalism is a literary movement that allegorizes the principles of natural science, best exemplified by authors like Emile Zola, Henrik Ibsen, and Theodore Dreiser."

"Boy, when I get a word wrong I get it wrong," Seth admitted, letting his hand idle over her hip. He was constantly amused by her unabashed indoor nudity.

"And I'm not much of a true naturist, anyway," she went on. "I've never even been to a camp."

"So you're a closet naturist, huh? Only in the house."

"Yeah. I guess that's pretty lightweight." She put her coffee down and leaned fully out the window.

"Oh, great," he protested. "Now you're showing your b.o.o.bs to the whole world!"

"Don't be such a prude, Seth. There's no neighbors for five miles in either direction-you said so yourself."

"Sure, but-"

"So no one can see me."

Seth just let his eyes drink her up. Even though she complained about gaining weight, he found her proportions perfect. Her skin glowed, and when she inclined herself farther out the window, she rose on her tiptoes, which flexed her calves in toned, s.e.xy lines. Her bottom constricted, showing adorable dimples.

"Look at all that switchgra.s.s," she mused. "It's hypnotic the way it sweeps back and forth, mile after mile."

"The county said there's almost fifty square miles of the stuff."

"And six of them belong to you."

"It's all that grows here now."

"Because this is all deforested woodlands. The soil's too depleted of nutrients. If they tried to grow corn here, they'd have to use so much fertilizer it wouldn't be cost effective. You're a Greenie by default, I guess. Until they perfected the gasification methods, switchgra.s.s was a worthless nuisance. Now it's a prime bioma.s.s crop. Fifteen-hundred gallons of ethanol per acre, for instance." Her face took on a studied expression. "Let's see, fifty square miles...Each square mile is six hundred forty acres, so that equals thirty-two thousand acres...times fifteen hundred-let'ssee...that's forty-eight million gallons of ethanol per year, just from here."

Seth frowned at her mental prowess. "I can't believe you figured all that out in your head in two seconds." Then he paused and thought about it. "But, wow, you're right. That does sound like a lot of ethanol."

"And it grows back every year. Kind of like having an oil pool that refills itself every season."

Seth shook his head, "How do you know so much about-Oh, that's right. You used to sleep with an agro professor."

She smirked back over her shoulder. "I never said I slept with him. I said I dated him."

He came up behind her and rubbed both hips. "Oh, so you mean you never-"

"Seth, do you really want to know how many times I had s.e.x with that guy?"

Seth thought about it. "Hmm, well, actually maybe I really don't want to know."

"Zero!" she answered. "And I never slept with the history prof, either. Honestly, those guys were less interesting than unflavored yogurt."

"Ah, good..." He kept toying with her hips.

She was still leaning out and staring off. "I just can't believe this view."

"Neither can I-and by the way, I'm not looking at the fields."

"Oh, and look at that," she said and pointed aside. Seth stuck his head out. She was pointing to a path of some sort that seemed to cut through the switchgra.s.s in a perfectly straight line.

"It looks like it goes on for miles," he remarked.

She mocked shock. "Maybe it's a crop circle...only straight!"

"Yeah, or maybe it's a path. An access for the switch-gra.s.s farmers."

"I guess you're right." But now she was squinting in a more severe angle, leaning out even farther.

"Honey, do you really have to lean out that far? Somebody could drive by."

She scoffed. "No one's going to drive by, for goodness' sake. I don't think we've seen a single car since we moved in."

Seth couldn't help it. He caught himself staring unreluctantly at her perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s as they depended from her chest. "What are you looking at now?"

"That's really weird, Seth."

"What?"

"Look. I think it really is a crop circle."

Seth rolled his eyes. "If there's aliens out there, you're giving them a terrific show." He looked out again, and let his eyes follow her finger.

She's right. Farther east, he spied a distinct area of s.p.a.ce that seemed to be clear of the ubiquitous gra.s.s. "What could that be?"

"And there's another one."

Seth had to squint but, yes, he spotted another small clearing even deeper in the field. "Can't imagine what they are, but ...probably not crop circles. That farther one doesn't seem to even be a circle, it's square."

"Seth, s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps don't have to be circular," she joked, but had already lost interest. Now she placed both hands on the window sill and pushed herself up till her feet came off the floor.

"Ah-ha, now I see that my *naturist' girlfriend is no longer content with merely displaying her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s to the whole world. Now she's got to show her, uh..."

"Pubies?" The tuft of dark hair showed fully over the sill. "And you're right, Seth, I'm showing the whole world. Look at all those cars out there," she mocked. "They've been driving back and forth all day long, hundreds of them-"

Car springs creaked. When they both looked down they easily noted the mail truck which had just stopped at the box. The mailman froze at the shock of the sight.

"s.h.i.+t!" Judy yelped and pulled back.

Seth laughed outright. "No cars, huh? No one can see, huh? Well, it looks like my little nudist has learned her lesson the hard way."

"Naturist!" Judy yelled over her embarra.s.sment and yanked on her robe.

"What ever, and I hate to tell you this, but you really are a great big phony."

"What?"

"Your face is beet red," Seth chuckled. "A true exhibitionist is never embarra.s.sed."

"Kiss my a.s.s!"

Seth grinned. He looked out the window and saw the mailman drive away. "But it's a good thing in the long run. Mailmen work hard, and they probably don't get a lot of job satisfaction."

"What are you talking about?" she griped.

"But that guy there? You just made his day."

Later they had a light breakfast, then puttered about the house, looking for finis.h.i.+ng touches. Seth had dressed but Judy remained barefoot in her robe. He frowned at the picture of herself she'd put on the refrigerator; it was from five years ago, when she'd been overweight.

"Is this really necessary now?"

Judy looked over. "Of course it is, it's motivation."

"Honey, you weigh a hundred and twenty pounds. It's your ideal weight. You're gorgeous and slim."

"Thanks for the gorgeous part, but slim is an overstatement. I weighed one-fifteen two months ago."

"That's because you're getting healthier after your ordeal, and I'm healthier after mine." He supposed he could understand her compulsion, considering the way she'd lost weight. But Seth was a positivist, at least about her. "What ever you say," he conceded.

"You want to go to town today?"

"Let's wait and see. I'm kind of in my creative groove so I'm itching to get some work done."

Judy made a sultry smile. "Yeah, and you were definitely in your creative groove last night."

"You sure that wasn't more you than me?"

"It takes two."

Seth smiled. "Be right back, I'm going to get the mail." He went out the front porch to suddenly be swept by the hot sun glowing over the fields beyond. He crunched down the driveway-not gravel but, he later learned, crushed oyster sh.e.l.ls. In the old days most of the minor roads nearby were paved with this, for Somner's Cove had possessed an enormous oyster bed, and was also the state's leading supplier of crabs. Seth thought he liked the old-time look of the drive but supposed he'd eventually have it blacktopped.

He retrieved the mail but barely looked at it; instead, his brain was ticking away with new ideas and level layout for the House of Flesh sequel. I need a bonus level that's trickier than anything to date, plus a new monster... He was halfway back to the porch when the sound of a car pulling up on the crunchy drive made him stop.

A modest older model sedan, dark enough to be black, parked behind Seth and Judy's Tahoe.

"Mr. Seth Kohn, I take it?" shot a spirited voice from a man getting out. He was slim, medium height. Eyes that seemed enthusiastic and young were set in a fortyish face, and he had curly hair not quite long enough to be called unruly that seemed to struggle between blond and brown.

"That's me."

The man approached quickly with a toothy smile, extending his head. "My name's Asher Lowen, Mr. Kohn. We're neighbors, in a sense; I live up the road in Lowen-sport."

Seth shook a soft hand with a strong grip. "Pleased to meet you," Seth said, noting, first, the man's black yarmulke, then attire that seemed too conservative for midsummer: black slacks, s.h.i.+ny black wing tips, and a neat white dress s.h.i.+rt. Seth wore khaki shorts and a Tampa Bay Rays T-s.h.i.+rt.

"And this is my wife, Lydia. Lydia, this is Mr. Kohn."

Another figure was approaching more slowly than Lowen had-a woman, slightly taller than her husband, with long black hair dusted by gray, a face whose whiteness was more l.u.s.trous than pallid, and a heavy bosom. Seth nearly raised a brow at her ruffly ankle dress-also black-and the sleeves b.u.t.toned at the wrists. She must be cooking like a Hot Pocket in that get-up, he thought, but smiled and said, "Very nice to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Lowen."

"Likewise," she replied, thin lips barely moving, and then she offered a basket of fresh fruit, cheese, and some jarred goods. "This is for you."

"Why, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Lowen-"

"Please, Seth," the man said. "Formalities are hardly necessary among neighbors."

"Of course...Asher, Lydia. And, really, this is very kind of you." Seth paused. "And this is very interesting. Your name is Lowen, you live in Lowensport, and I've just moved into a place known as the Lowen House. Any connection?"

"Quite a connection, Seth." The question brightened Asher's already blazing eyes. "The man who built our town and also your house was Rabbi Gavriel Loew."

"Gavriel Loew," Seth repeated.

"He changed his name to Lowen in 1840 when he and his a.s.sembly emigrated here to flee anti-Semitic persecution in Europe. Unfortunately more persecution awaited; he changed his name to sound less Jewish, but to no avail. But I'm happy to add that Gavriel Lowen was my great-great-great-grandfather."

"How do you like that?" Seth said. "But now I feel guilty."

"What on earth for?"