Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/215

 He wobbled to the door and Gaylord noticed, for the first time, he wore golden sandals.

"What's going on in here?" questioned a deep masculine voice from the hall.

"We're just having a mad daisy chain, officer," laughed Gene. "You wouldn't arrest a girl for having a little fun, would you?" He looked back into the room into the half frightened faces of Cleo and Paul. Then he laughed with delight, crying, "Don't look so death-like, girls. I'm only fooling … Come on in kids before Miss Cleo has a miscarriage."

Three youths of about the same age walked into the room.

Cleo walked up to them. "Tom, you wicked doll … scaring me half to death. I thought you were tillie law." Going to the smallest of the three boys, he said, "Jerry, how gay you look in that blond switch. It's lighter than it was, isn't it?"

"No … it's the same shade it's been for months," replied Jerry.

After a faint embrace, Cleo's hands slipped from the tiny waist of Jerry and grabbed the hand of the third boy. He was very masculine, very handsome, and the muscles of his body showed plainly beneath the thin shirt. The expression on his chiseled face was one of keen interest as he looked at Gaylord. "Claude, you handsome darling," Cleo cried at him, "you and that deep voice." He laughed, patting Claude's large bony hand.

"How are you, Cleo?" Claude said in his deep grave voice. At the same time giving the hand a tight squeeze.

"Damn … not so tight," squealed Cleo. "I'm a frail girl, remember."

"Hello, Paul," they all three greeted.

"Hi, kids," grinned Paul. He moved a little on the divan.

Paul then introduced them to Gaylord. They shook hands and Gene mixed them all a drink. It wasn't long before they occupied the large red pillows scattered on the floor. All were laughing and talking at the same time.

Claude put down the magazine he had been looking at and walked over toward Gaylord. Said to him, "Having fun?"

"I'm having … fun."

"Gene always has such good parties … makes everyone feel so