“Walking along the lake,” she said when we got close. “I saw something,” she added after
looking around to make sure nobody was close.
“The monster of Crimson Lake?” I asked.
“Something like that. Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you what I saw.” I noticed her face
was flushed, but I figured it was from her walk.
Inside I headed for the bar but Judy steered me to a table in back. I ordered her a
screwdriver and me a beer and waited for her to tell me of her adventure. It would be an
adventure because even a trip to the grocery store was an adventure for Judy.
“After I left you and your insults, I followed the golf trail for a little ways. When it
veered away from the lake I cut across and found another path that followed the shore.”
She paused and took a long swallow of her vodka and orange. That in itself was strange
because Judy usually uses a straw and makes her drink last through two or three of mine. I
watched her and waited. One thing I’ve learned, Judy can’t be hurried in her story
telling. God knows I’ve tried often enough.
“I walked for about twenty minutes and came to a cove. You can’t see it from anywhere on
the golf course. Anyway, there was a boat in the cove. A big boat on floats.”
“House boat?” I said.
“No, there wasn’t any house on it. Just a flat surface with rails around it.”
“Okay, do you want to buy one?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. Shut-up and listen, Butch. There were people on the boat
and they were doing it.”
“Doing what? Oh, doing ‘it’,” I said, finally catching on. “Honey, it may come as a
surprise to you, but we are not the only people who fuck.”
“Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?” she snapped. “Of course I know other people
do it. That’s not the point.”
“Sorry, Judy. What exactly is the point?”
“There were three people. Two men and a woman. They were doing her together and they were
black men. She was white.” Judy’s voice had risen to just slightly above a shout. Several
people from near-by tables and one couple from the pro shop stopped what they were doing
to listen. Suddenly Judy realized she had gotten a bit loud. She finished her screwdriver
and signalled for the server. She didn’t have to wait long because the waitress was
hovering close by. “There was three of them, Butch,” she said in a much quieter tone after
the waitress had left us. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, darn it.”
“Okay, Judy. I got it. You happened up on some interracial group sex.” Suddenly it
struck me funny. I started laughing. “And you wanted everybody in the clubhouse to know
the details.” Fortunately for me, Judy saw the humour in it also. Pretty soon she was
laughing with me. We finished our drinks and went to clean up and change for dinner.
Being married as long as we have been has given me a little insight into her moods. All
during dinner I could tell that she had something on her mind. It was when we were
finishing up our meal that Judy brought up the sighting again. She leaned toward me,
keeping her voice low.
“Butch, you should have seen them. They were like animals. It was the wildest thing I
ever have seen.” I told her I could well imagine that it was a shock seeing it. Over the
years, from time to time, I would pick up an adult video, but Judy always stoutly refused
to watch them. She didn’t mind if I did, but she refused every time.
“Not shock so much,” she said. “At first I thought it was some sort of rape. I had my
cell phone out and nearly dialled nine-one-one. When the woman started yelling for them to
hurry and…you know. She used the F-word a lot. Anyway, I knew it wasn’t rape so I didn’t
call the police. The two black guys didn’t let up on her for a single moment the whole
time.”
“My God, Judy,” I said. “How long did you watch?” Judy didn’t look at me. She got busy
with her desert. I didn’t press it, but I thought she must have watched a long time.
That night in bed, Judy was a wild woman.
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