Honeymoon for Three

He walked downhill to their cabin. A light shone in one of the windows. If he could get another look at Penny, he might be able to draw her correctly.
    Because of the sloping terrain, the window was above his head. Just like Penny’s window at her apartment. He looked around in the dark for something to stand on. The only thing he could see was a rock—actually a small granite boulder ten feet from the window. He tried to lift it and almost collapsed. If he succeeded in getting it off the ground, he would end up with a hernia.
    However, he found that he could roll it because it was roughly spherical in shape. Very roughly. It didn’t want to go where he tried to direct it. It was much more interested in heading down the slope toward the woods and away from the cabin. By the time he got it near the window, he was hot and panting, in spite of the cold night air.
    Now the trick was to stand on top of the uneven surface. He placed his hands against the logs of the cabin to steady himself and gingerly stood up on the rock. As he inched his body higher, his eyes came above the windowsill, and he could see into the cabin.
    There they were, sitting on a couch to his left, similar to the one in his cabin. Penny and Gary were looking at the television set, which was to his right. He glanced at the screen and saw the blond beauty of Inger Stevens. They were watching the same movie he had been watching.
    Watching was too precise a word. They did glance at the screen, occasionally, but they were more interested in each other. They kept kissing and fooling around. Now he was touching her—inappropriately. Now he slid his hand under her sweater. In spite of his disgust at what they were doing, Alfred unzipped his jacket, unbuttoned a couple of buttons of his shirt, and put his hand through the opening, pushing his T-shirt up and out of the way. He found his bellybutton and started manipulating it.
    This helped to relieve his tension, but he still could barely watch the two of them. His body began to vibrate. He had only one hand available with which to steady himself. He pulled his other hand out of his shirt, but not in time. His body began to tilt, slowly but irrevocably. There was nothing on the side of the cabin that gave him a firm grip. His hands skittered along the log wall as he fell off the rock.
    He landed clumsily and twisted his ankle. He tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a cry of pain. Even though he landed on the pine needles, his body made a thump. They must have heard the cry or the thump. He got up and limp-ran toward the woods. Fortunately, there were no more cabins between him and the woods. The biggest problem in the dark was not tripping on rocks and pinecones.
    Once in the woods, Alfred stopped behind one of the larger trees. The trunk was wide enough so that it easily hid him. He leaned against the rough bark and panted for a few seconds. Then he looked around the trunk of the tree and back toward the cabin. The door was open, and Gary was silhouetted in the doorway. He was looking around.
    There was no way Gary could see him. Where he was in the woods it was almost pitch black. Gary came down the steps in front of the cabin. He was carrying a small flashlight, and Alfred could follow his progress by watching its beam. Gary walked to the side of the cabin where Alfred had looked through the window. He wouldn’t find anything there except a rock under the window. He wouldn’t be observant enough to see that the rock had been moved.
    The light of the flashlight flitted along the ground and among the trees surrounding the cabin. Alfred didn’t think Gary would come into the woods, but he was prepared to keep the trunk of this granddaddy tree between them if he did. Gary’s search, however, was cursory. There was nothing for him to see. Alfred hoped he would go back inside. This one time he was depending on Penny’s allure to pull him back into the cabin like a rubber band.
    Gary did return to the warmth of the cabin—and the warmth of Penny’s body. Alfred cursed him for that, but at least he appeared to be out of danger. He waited five minutes after the door closed. Five cold minutes, since he rapidly cooled off from his recent exertions.
    He made a wide circuit of their cabin as he returned to his own. He limped because his ankle hurt. It was uphill to his cabin, which made it more difficult. When he reached his refuge, he collapsed on the sofa without taking off his coat. The movie was still