Hunger by Karen E. Taylor Page A

thought, but instead he stroked my cheek gently, moving his fingers softly to the base of my neck. A sweet chill ran through me and I moved toward him, waiting for his next caress. It didn’t come. Instead he pulled away, leaving me confused and disappointed.
    â€œWhere shall we go?” he asked innocently, as if the contact had not been made.
    I laughed at his question. “There isn’t much open after dark around here, but just keep driving. We can find something to do eventually, I’m sure.” He ignored the innuendo and did as I suggested.
    We drove around most of the night, stopping at a few bars, or private clubs as the law liked to call them, along the way. Mostly we talked and laughed, sharing stories of our lives and our hopes for the future. He was traveling across the country from California to the east coast, I found out, and hoped to open a restaurant or club if he could get the financing. He thought that I was something of a gypsy, moving from town to town, never staying more than a few years in any one place.
    â€œHow can you ever establish a home for yourself that way, Diane Gleason?” He was still making fun of the name on my uniform and we laughed, as if it were the funniest joke ever told. I found him charming and attractive, so different from the men I met at the truck stop, and began to wonder if I could make a mate of him. Shortly before dawn, he brought me back to the trailer, and after making arrangements to meet the next evening, kissed me quickly, his lips hard and demanding on mine.
    â€œWould you like to come in?” I asked breathlessly.
    â€œYou are beautiful, Diane, and so alive. Who would ever have thought . . .” His voice trailed off as he buried his mouth in my hair.
    â€œThought what, Max?”
    He held me at arms length and looked at me intently, then smiled. “That I could find a girl like you in a place like this.” He kissed me once more and let me go. “I’ve got to go, now. Till tomorrow.” He got into his car and sped away.
    â€œTill tomorrow,” I repeated as I entered my trailer.
    The sun was rising as I pulled the drapes and laid down on my bed. Long after I should have been asleep, I thought about Max and the evening we had spent. Formulating plans for converting him into a creature like me, I tried to remember the procedure from the countless books I had read. My own transformation was hazy, veiled in a disturbing dream, and so could offer no solution. I fell asleep composing the words to my proposal. I would offer him endless youth and life; he and I could be united forever.
    We spent the next few nights together. I took a week’s vacation from work, something I hadn’t done in the past two years. We must have put hundreds of miles on his car, doing nothing but driving and talking. Just being with Max made me feel more human than I had in years; I was young and vibrant again, the long lonely times finally behind me. On our last night together, we found a deserted country road, miles away from everything. We lay in a field, staring at the night sky. Thinking how I wanted to preserve the moment forever: the silence, the stars and his presence, I sighed, almost involuntarily.
    â€œI have to leave tomorrow,” he said abruptly; his words were a brutal interruption of the quiet night. “There’s no way around it.”
    Something in the tone of his voice angered me, a detachment, and coldness I had never heard before. “Well, you needn’t sound so damned happy about it,” I snarled at him. “I knew you would only be here tor a while. You owe me nothing.”
    â€œOn the contrary, my love, I owe you a lot. You’ve renewed me, taken me away from my own selfish pursuits, made me feel that life may be worth living, after all. But even at that, I have to leave.” The words were properly sincere, but the voice was that of a stranger. “You could come with me, I suppose, but