Susie didn't speak until they arrived at the railway station. Suddenly she stopped, sensing a strangeness come over Peter once more. Clutching her little bag to her chest, she turned and watched, realizing it would take some time before the last of the effects of the drugs left him.
Once again, something weird was taking hold of Peter who now seemed to be staring at Susie as if mesmerized. He was seeing visions again.
He could see beside her, standing there in the light streaming through the waiting room door, two figures - his parents. They were frowning at him, their gaze steady and stern.
His eyes closed as he tried to shake his mind free of the two apparitions and he felt his mind retreating into itself once more, unable to cope in its drugged state. A most wonderful floating feeling came over him, bringing with it an almost euphoric feeling of security.
"What's wrong?"
He could hear Susie's strangely distant voice and could hear the sounds of slapping. He began to feel the pain of slaps on his cheek that forced him to open his eyes and blink in the strong sunlight. The slaps got harder until they stung.
"That hurt." Peter at last realized what Susie was doing.
"You're a fool. You almost fainted, that's all.” Susie clasped his arm tightly. "What's wrong? Surely, I deserve an explanation. Any moment now I'll forget I’m a lady,” She flushed with quick anger, “although you didn't see fit to treat me like one."
Peter sagged against the wall and she grabbed his shoulders, trying to keep him on his feet.
"Peter, whatever's the matter?"
"I haven't been to bed," he explained before correcting himself. "No, I haven't been to sleep for four – or maybe five days. It was just a long day followed by an even longer night and the day was horrible, a real bitch of a day. Now it’s going to be an even longer night.”
She remembered he'd agreed to take the load back to Sydney.
"But I'll be all right. I've been given these to keep awake." Peter produced the bottle of tablets the yard boss had given him. "I'll take them to help."
Brooking no argument, Susie reacted with speed and finality as she snatched them from his grasp.
"I'll have those. You'll do nothing of the sort." She was so angry she was shouting.
"These young people - domestic arguments." The waiting passengers were critical.
"But your train?" Valiantly Peter tried to resist but his body was rubber.
"Damn my train," Susie replied angrily.
Hailing a taxi, she pushed Peter into the back seat and demanded that the driver take them back to the motel. It took the efforts of both the driver and Susie to get Peter back into the room and on the bed.
His body was demanding a rest.
Slowly, hours later his eyes opened. The moon could be seen through the window and the lights in the room were on. He struggled to rise.
"So the hero is awake.” Susie fluttered into view. "Do you feel fit enough to take me to dinner? I'm starving." She began to snigger as Peter threw the bedclothes back and stood up. "No. Not like that. You're far from decent."
Her eyes sparkled merrily as she studied his naked body.
"Not so fearsome now are we? Where's your manhood gone. You're only a little boy in a man's body." She laughed stridently as Peter, trying to cover his family jewels with his hands, fled to the bathroom.
"And, yes, your back. I demand some explanations. At least, you owe me that."
Considerably refreshed, they eventually began talking while eating.
"Now you've slept and we're eating, perhaps you can tell me what yesterday was all about," Susie continued her nagging.
Peter was learning more about her, but in his opinion, her nagging was a common trait of women.
"Forget it.” Peter was becoming stubborn. He was not going to answer. "Let's go for a walk around the shops. I'll collect the truck and take the load to Sydney."
"There's no truck. Not tonight.”
Susie pulled on his arm until she forced him to face her. Hands on hips and feet spaced wide apart, she glared at him. "You can sleep tonight and possibly drive tomorrow. Do you think because I'm a woman I'm here for you to tumble into bed whenever you get the urge?" She was bitter. "Do you believe I can't think? Peter, you're even more stupid than you were last night."
The knives were out. She really made him writhe as each blade plunged deep.
"You men make me sick. Honestly I thought you were different but, my God, how mistaken was I." She was furious.
"Ssh. Susie." Her voice had become a strident shriek. "People are listening."
"Hell, why should I care? Don't you want them to recognize you as a 'would-be' rapist - a rapist who would do it - if he had anything to use in a rape. You are a poor, silly excuse for a man. I suppose you want the world to think of you as a kind, well-mannered gentleman instead of a stupid little boy." Her words sank to a hoarse whisper.
In the motel room, she pushed Peter onto the bed then dragged a chair close. As he reached out to touch her, she recoiled as if he were loathsome.
"If you touch me, I'll go." Then she softened a little. "God knows what would happen to you, but I'll go. I seriously doubt your ability to look after yourself. You're just a little boy, lost. Now tell me what's wrong. What's been eating you?"
Peter stared at her, his mouth set into a hard line and his thoughts locked on his problem as he wondered what was wrong with him. Women, that's what was wrong. He decided to say nothing, no matter how much she stared at him and insulted him. He would say nothing.
With no answer forthcoming, thoroughly exasperated Susie gathered up her things and left. She'd tried so hard to break through his reserve without success. She'd had enough of Peter O'Brien.
Lying back on the bed he allowed his thoughts to wander. He couldn’t stand all that questioning and anger - just like his childhood – questions, anger and pain. If it hadn't been for that phone call everything would be so good.
A sob welled up from deep in his chest. He lay back on the bed and allowed his thoughts to race. If only Jennifer would give me a chance. He clutched a pillow and weeping bitterly, enjoyed the luxury of not holding back. For the first time in his life, he howled his bitterness into a pillow.
"Peter!" A light touch on his shoulder and a soft voice told him he was not alone.
"For Christ's sake, leave me alone!" He punched the pillow in his bitter anger, burying his face, trying to conceal the tears. "Get out. Leave me alone. Oh, for God's sake, leave me alone."
