DOMINION by Bentley Little (best chinese ebook reader .txt) 📕

no lights were on, and whatever buildings lay within the property blended in with the foliage and the black background hills.

They drove by twice more, but saw nothing either time.

“Give it up,” Kevin said. “No one’s home. Besides, we’d better move out. Paul’s probably waiting.”

Burgertime was straight out of American Graffiti, a chrome and tile drive-in complete with uniformed carhops. Paul was indeed waiting, and three other guys Dion did not recognize were sitting next to him on the hood of the Mustang. Paul grinned as the two of them got out of Kevin’s car. “Well, if it isn’t the famous butt brothers.”

Kevin flipped him off. “Knick knack paddywack, give your mom a boner.”

Paul laughed, pushing himself off the car. “Well, we’re all here now. You ready to hit the pavement?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said.

“All right. We’d better take two vehicles this time.” He looked purposefully at Dion. “It’s getting crowded.”

“We’ll follow you,” Kevin said, either ignoring or not noticing the slight.

“See you there.”

The two cars raced quickly through the Napa streets, slowing to the legal limit only at known speed traps, those intersections where the city’s men in blue consistently sat in wait to nab unsuspecting motorists. The buildings changed from commercial to residential, the garish glow of signs giving way to the low illumination of lighted living room windows. The houses became spaced farther apart, the roads more winding, as rural tendrils encroached onto city space. Finally the Mustang pulled to a stop just before a huge oak tree whose massive leafy branches overhung the pavement.

Paul and his friends got out of the car, Paul carrying a brown grocery bag.

Dion and Kevin met them halfway between the two vehicles.

“Hope you all wore shitty clothes,” Paul said. “This is going to involve some dirty work.” He gestured toward a two-story Victorian house on the other side of the oak. “My old man’s camped out in the living room in the back of the house, and we’re going to have to circle around through the trees and bushes to get to the window.”

The rest of them nodded in understanding.

“Let’s make this quick.” Paul disappeared into the blackness beneath the tree, and the other four followed. The night topography was confusing to Dion, but Paul obviously knew the way, moving swiftly between trees, around seemingly identical bushes, until suddenly the back of the house was before them.

They crouched low between the branches of an oleander. Behind the translucent curtains covering a large double window, backed by the flickering blue glow of a television, they could see the indistinct shadow of a stiff-backed man.

“What exactly are we going to do?” Dion whispered.

“You’ll see.” Paul grinned. “Come on.” He crept forward through the underbrush. The rest of them fell in behind him until they were just below the window. Putting a finger to his lips to shush them, Paul opened the sack. Inside was the object he had spent half of his afternoon working on.

A huge clay penis.

It was hard for Dion not to laugh as Paul placed the gigantic phallus on the windowsill. Grinning, Paul looked from one face to another. “Get ready to roll,” he whispered.

Dion’s heart was pounding in his chest. He had no idea what Paul was doing, and he was more than a little nervous. Still, he could not help laughing as he looked at the object, silhouetted against the inside light.

“Shut up!” Kevin warned.

Paul suddenly stood up, pounding on the window with both his fists. In the quiet night air, the sound was explosive. “Suck me, Father Ralph!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

The rest of them scattered, taking refuge in the dark safety of the trees.

Dion ducked behind a bush next to Kevin. He saw the curtains open, saw the priest’s expression of shock as he saw the clay cock. A moment later, the front door flew open. “I’ll get you punks!” the minister yelled. In his hand was a baseball bat, which he waved threateningly in the air.

“Suck me, Father Ralph!” Paul called from behind a bush.

The rest of them took up the cry:

“Suck me, Father Ralph!”

“Suck me, Father Ralph!”

“Suck me, Father Ralph!”

Dion laughed. “Suck me, Father Ralph!” he cried.

The priest ran toward the nearest bush, toward the sound of Paul’s voice.

“Haul ass!” Kevin yelled, and the bushes rattled as all five of them scurried back the way they’d come, heading for the cars.

“I’m calling the cops!” the priest yelled after them.

Dion was still laughing, his heart pounding, blood pumping with adrenaline, as they broke onto the street. “This is great!” he said.

Kevin laughed with him. “Told you.”

“Take off!” Paul ordered, rushing to his car. “Follow me!”

“Let’s go!” Kevin said.

Dion jumped in the passenger seat. He could not remember when he’d had this much fun. This was the kind of thing that happened in films, not in real life. Certainly not in his life.

The two cars took off in twin squeals of burnt tire.

The lights inside were off when Dion returned home, though his mom’s car was parked in the driveway.

Parked in back of it was a red Corvette.

Dion glanced quickly back at Kevin’s disappearing taillights, but it was too late to flag him down. He turned back around. It was nothing, he told himself. She had just invited a new friend over for some innocent talk, that was all.

But if that was all, why were all the lights off?

He stepped quietly over the gravel of the front walk, tiptoeing, until he reached the front door. It was locked, but he had a key. He pulled out his wallet, removed the key from its hiding place behind the bills, and opened the door.

He could hear his mom in the bedroom.

She was not alone.

He stood there, unmoving. That was it, then. She was starting again. All that cock and bull she’d given him about turning over a new leaf had been just so much hot air. She hadn’t meant a single goddamn word of it.

So where did that leave them now?

How long was it going