John Argo - Susie

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Susie

a sf short story

by John Argo

Buck spotted the little girl walking alone, and felt a dryness in his mouth that told him he was about to risk

more prison time.

She had blonde hair, was about seven, and was walking along the sidewalk toward a strip mall parking

lot with supermarket, drycleaners, video store, household robo repair, liquor store, and the like. The

setting sun made her hair glow like spun silk.

Buck followed her a while, his van hovering with a whisper of fans, as he studied the situation. From the

feelings inside, he knew he was going to take her sexually. After that, he would strangle her, tie a barbell

to her ankles, put her in a garbage bag with her clothes, and dump her off a bridge into a river where she

would not be found for months, even years.

The little girl walked slowly but purposefully. Perhaps her mother had given her a dollar or two and told

her she could have an ice cream. Or told her to pick up a large bottle of soda.

The inside of the van smelled of coffee and cigarettes. In the back were blankets, some pots and pans for

cooking out, some towels and soap for washing along rivers. He had some nudie holos, including kid

porn. Buck lit a cigarette with trembling hand. He held the cigarette just near his mouth, his eyes hungrier

than his mouth, following her every step.

There were four things that could spoil it now. Buck had been through this exactly thirteen times, by his

count. He had it down. Number One, she took a different way home, and he lost her. Number Two, she

came back with other kids, and that did it. Number Three, she ran the minute he started propositioning

her. Number Four, a cop or some smart enough adult came by and spoiled everything for Buck. No

matter, he'd move on, find another one. But this looked like an exceptional one. His stomach was in

knots, his mouth watered, his groin seemed on fire. He resisted the temptation to just drive by, grab her,

and drive off; someone might hear; someone might see and get his license plate number. It was his third

time out of prison; next time the judge might put him in for good; he'd better be careful.

There! He could not believe his luck. She came out of the corner drug store with a popsicle. She sat

down on a low wall and licked her popsicle. Buck shut off the engine. The van settled on the street with a

barely audible sigh. Buck slid open the side door, exposing a large stuffed tiger with a bandanna and

cowboy hat. He stepped carefully out of the van and looked around. Nobody in sight. He knew he was

nondescript looking, neither pleasant nor ugly, just this kind of forgettable figure in baggy corduroy pants,

dull striped shirt, maybe a wool sweater on a cold day. He had curly gray hair that made him look his

age, 45. "Hi," he said, walking slowly up with hands in pockets. "That a grape one?"

"No, orange," she said. She gave it another lick, favoring him sort of sideways around it. There was an

orange smear around her mouth, and her fingers looked sticky. She had beautiful dark blue eyes. Buck

began to get really turned on. She wore a summer dress that revealed her smooth skin, knobby knees,

featureless chest.

"Aren't you cold?"

"A little."

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John Argo - Susie

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