writing_ie-logo

  • www.inkwellwriters.ie
gerry-chaney-interviews-header

The Members' Blog

Vincent J. McArdle

w-ie-small
Article by vincent mcardle © 23 May 2018 .
Posted in the Members' Blog ( ).




An extract from new novel in progress – Harvey Weins.

Harvey, a young Jewish man from Queens, NY, is attempting to insinuate himself into social circle of the wealthy Rolleston family in Los Angeles. He is just about to graduate from Yale and he wants to get deep into the diamond industry. The Rollestons are kingpins in this industry. His sister Edel has a boyfriend who might be helpful but he rebuffs him.
This is how Edel feels about the evening it happened.

CHAP XV WARM IN BED
I hate to admit it but seeing Harvey halted in his tracks by Gordon gave me a satisfaction that no sister should enjoy. He had such a power over everything that even I considered him unstoppable. So, in some sadistic way I took pleasure in Gordon’s absolute resistance to his conniving tactics. Sometimes people like Harvey make mistakes. They assume other people are fools, just there for the taking. I know that if they can’t get their way by cleverness, they may resort to force and brutality. He wouldn’t be so stupid to go any further with Gordon. No, out of the question. But he would bide his time, he would rack his brains and someday, maybe, when Gordon was more vulnerable, he would strike. Would that be the way he would work it?
I knew in the background, he was insinuating himself into the Rolleston circle. Gordon could do nothing about that. But Gordon for now had the upper hand. He had the professional expertise to handle the account. And I was involved in that. That gave me more sadistic sensations. I was in some way superior to my genius brother. Fantastic! That had rarely ever happened.
When I slept with Gordon later that night and we made love, he satisfied me so much more than usual. So much. Harvey’s face kept drifting into my mind until Gordon’s touch and caresses drove him out again. It was as though I was seeing him being degraded and dominated by my lover. It was a psycho-sadistic emotion which was driving me to greater heights of ecstasy. So unhealthy, so bloody deranged I should have stifled it immediately rather than indulge and encourage it as we rolled and ranged around the bed.
I could not sleep easily when we finally disentangled our limbs and mutually lay back exhausted but fully sated.
The whole thing was beginning to scare me. Until that night I never seemed to need erotic imagery of this kind. Did other women engage in such complicated fantasies? I had no idea. Even the liberated West Coast culture to which I had yielded, even the short-lived but highly charged attachment I had had with Ruth Alben never drove me to such weirdness.
Because it was strange, this derivation of pleasure from the doing-down of a brother, my only brother. I suspected it was not only strange but dangerous and unworthy of me. Surely no brother at such a young age deserved it. Maybe a man who had blood on his hands, who had tortured and tormented many, might eventually warrant such thoughts against them. But not now. It was ludicrous.
And then, in my nakedness, I began to weep. Gordon knew nothing of this. My tears dampened the sheets as I used their fringe to wipe the torrent as it poured. I remembered my school plays in Queens and how I had imagined Harvey to be as handsome and strong and magnetic as Boaz or King David himself. I remembered my admiration for my little brother. How had that all faded away? Whose fault was that?
When he left me and went to Mohegan or Yale? Or was it a father who used his art to seduce and deceive? Maybe it was a mother who had stopped excusing her husband and whose only solace was to build the foundation for a genius that she felt their union had produced?
And was Harvey like that father as he grew large in my mother’s womb? Already a careless bully. God, I hoped not. But maybe he was going in that direction. He had wheedled almost everything he wanted out of my mother to date. He made everything she did for him seem like he had absolute entitlement. Because he had a calculating brain, he had to go to the best school, the best college. Then I thought back to the beginning. Although he was younger than me, he always seemed to kick me around. Not physically. No, I would absolutely loathe him if it ever came to that. But the way he just got everything. The way it all came so easily to him. The way he always won his battles with hardly an effort whilst I had never been given any encouragement in my choices. Was that a way of bullying me?
If it was bullying, then it was invading my soul and could turn into a poison. For now, seeing him thwarted was a powerful aphrodisiac and how could I deny it?
I turned over to my sleeping Gordon and snuggled warmly against his flesh.


If you feel that this post includes inappropriate content, you can report it here.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.