"Hey, Thorn, wait a minute."
Barney Thorn stopped and turned at the sound of his name. Mac Lancaster, Center High principal, double-timed to catch up with the lanky coach.
"Hi, Mac," Barney Thorn said.
"You're a tough man to catch up with," Mac said. "If you have a minute, let's go down to my office and chat."
"Okay," Barney said, "practice doesn't start for a while." He started down the hall a step ahead of Lancaster.
Now what the hell could he want? Barney thought. It couldn't be the team; we've played two games and won two games. And at Center High, winning football games was everything.
In the principal's office, Barney fell into a big wing chair and watched Mac push the door closed and slide into the chair behind his desk.
"Is something wrong, Mac?" Barney asked casually.
"Wrong? Oh, no, hell no; I just like to get to know my teachers, and you're a very elusive fellow."
"Well, between teaching English and coaching the football team, I manage to keep the old nose to the grindstone."
Mac winced; he detested cliches. "Yeah, I guess that's true, but I still like to talk to you once in a while. You're doing a good job, Barney; the team looked great last time out."
"I got lots of material, Mac. There's some really talented kids on the team."
Yeah, Mac thought, and they'll still be calling them kids when they retire from the pros; they'll still be acting like kids, too. He leaned back in his chair and fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Cigarette, Barney?" he said.
"Don't smoke. Bad for the lungs. Bad for the heart, too; why do you know…"
"Spare me, I've heard it all before, Barney. Is it okay if I have one?"
"Sure, Mac, it's your funeral," Barney said.
Mac hated jocks, and he could see that Barney was a jock to end all jocks. He took out a cigarette and fired up. Opening a drawer in his desk, he took out a bottle of Johnny Walker Red and a couple of tumblers. "After a long day with the brats, I need a snort." He looked at Barney. "Now don't tell me you don't drink, either."
Barney didn't drink much, but he didn't want to say so because Mac's tone questioned his masculinity.
"Just a splash, Mac. I gotta keep in shape to keep up with my kids. Don't want liquor on my breath; gotta set an example."
Total jockism, Mac thought with disgust. He poured the Scotch until both glasses were half filled and handed one to Barney.
Barney took the glass, carefully studying his adversary – everyone was an adversary to Barney. Center High was a big school, almost two thousand students, and a big step up from his last job. If he made good here, a college job was sure to follow. At any rate, it was too good to screw up.
"You've been here over a month, Barney, and we still haven't seen you and your wife socially. Several of us get together once or twice a month and we thought you and your wife might like to party once in a while."
"We don't do much socializing during football season, Mac," Barney said.
Barney wondered what the old devil was up to. Mac was only ten years older than Barney, who was twenty-eight, but he looked like an old lecher to Barney. He knew Lancaster had been principal at Center for eleven years and was in solid, and he didn't want to lock horns with him, but that shouldn't mean he was forced to fraternize with him.
"We have a damn nice school here, Barney, and some damn nice people, when you get to know them," Mac said, taking a slug of scotch. "We have some real dolls around here, too. Like the little brunette that teaches sophomore English."
"You mean Miss Riley?" Barney said.
"I figured you'd noticed her if you're a man. And it's Mrs. Riley."
"Oh, she's married?" Barney said.
"Yeah, but it doesn't make that much difference. Her husband is a salesman… you know, out of town a lot." Mac winked. "She is really stacked, and quite modern. I don't think she wears a bra half the time."
Barney looked down into his glass and swirled the liquor. He hadn't taken a drink yet. He was blushing.
"You're a hard man to talk to, Barney. I can see I'll just have to be blunt. A few of us like to do a little swinging now and then and I wondered if you and your little wife might like to join in the fun."
"Swinging? You… don't mean wife swapping… do you?"
"Yeah, as long as everyone is agreeable."
"Naw, Mac. I don't think Leslie would… hell no, I'm sure she wouldn't be interested," Barney stammered, his color deepening.
"Would you?" Mac asked.
"Well, I… I don't know. I don't think I like the idea of another guy sleeping with my wife."
"Do you like the idea of you sleeping with some other guy's wife?"
Barney knew he was trapped. "I'm a male… ain't I?" he said. It was very important to Barney to be male, to belong to that fraternity of he-men that drink their whiskey neat, and fuck their women standing up. Even if he really wasn't that way.
"Would you… say, dig going to bed with my wife?" Mac asked.
Barney was thoroughly flustered by this time. He took a swallow of Scotch and spilled most of the rest on his pants leg. He remembered that upon meeting Mac's wife, Winnie, he thought she looked like a great lady. She was built for comfort and had that bedroom look about her.
"Well, if you don't dig Winnie," Mac said when Barney didn't answer, "how about Mrs. Riley? She comes to our parties once in a while. Usually when her husband is out of town. He's a little prudish, but she's not," Mac said, actually enjoying Barney's discomfort. Actually, Julie Riley had never been to one of their swap parties, but Mac had been working on her and she had hinted that she might give it a try.
Barney uncoiled from the chair and put the glass on the desk. "No, Mac, Leslie just wouldn't go for it. She's a very old fashioned girl, believes in fidelity. She's just not that wild for sex, anyway."
"It's not possible, Barney, not with her looks and figure."
Barney was getting angry. He didn't like Lancaster's inference. "You can't always judge a book by its cover," he snapped.
Mac winced again. Jocks are all alike, he thought, absolutely no imagination.
"Well, you are coming to the teacher's banquet tonight, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah, that's a school function. Always make school functions; you know, school spirit and all that."
"Yeah, all that," Mac said. Center High always held a dinner for teachers after school had been in progress for a month to get the teachers together, now that they were all acquainted. Mac felt uncomfortable himself, now, afraid that he had jumped the gun with Barney. He should have waited before making his pitch. He kicked himself for misjudging so badly. He hoped the bastard didn't make waves.
"I better get going," Barney said. "Time for practice."
"Yeah," Mac said.
Barney stepped into the hall and saw Dan Henry. "Hi, Dan, going to the bash tonight?"
"Yeah, if Vera's up to it." He grinned. "She's pretty pregnant, you know."
"Yeah, I noticed," Barney said, grinning himself.
Dan was tall and slim, not athletic at all, but Barney liked him. He was shy and minded his own business, not a pushy ass like Lancaster. It was Dan's first year at Center, too.
In his office, Mac poured another Scotch. He wished he hadn't been so presumptuous; he could be in trouble, but it had done his heart good to see the jock-bastard squirm, even if did mean he wouldn't get a crack at the luscious Leslie Thorn.
Somehow, he still found it difficult to believe that a woman as sexy as Mrs. Thorn could be the frigid prude her husband painted; he could have sworn he'd seen a come-on look in her eyes. Maybe Barney protested too much.