"The rules from last summer apply," Beth said, pointedly looking at Erin.The teenager shrugged her acknowledgement and continued placing silverware on the table.Chris grinned. Given how loose the rules were—only touching genitals between parents and their own children was out of bounds—Erin had little reason for concern. They'd have to work to break them.When the fondue began to bubble, David poured the wine into glasses."Can I have some?" Erin asked.David and Beth held a silent conversation and then David nodded. "Some," he said.Erin nodded and accepted David's glass. He mixed himself a vodka martini as a replacement."One for me too," Chris said, as he passed his wine to Leah."When I was growing up," Elizabeth said, "we'd have eggnog with a little rum at the holidays. Of course, my father never put much rum in Ellen's or my glasses, but I really enjoyed the taste. Sometimes I miss it." I miss cocktail hour," David said. "Remember back in the navy days," he looked at Beth, "how dinner. Her screams became continuous until she could scream no more and were all the more terrible for being silent. And through it all came Gerry's flat voice, counting the deadly strokes.The audience watched, caught up in the spell of this dire ritual. Afraid, almost, to breath in case they upset some deadly balance. There was a thump beside Amanda. Suzie, the youngest of them, had fainted. Amanda made to help her."Leave her."The last stroke fell. Jenny's body, from shoulder to knees was criss-crossed with angry red weals. A drop of blood trickled slowly, almost apologetically, from one of them. John dropped the whip on the deck and strode off without a backward glance."Amanda. Georgette. Help me with Jenny. Rachel attend to Suzie," Gerry ordered.Slowly and tenderly, they freed Jenny from her bonds and carried her limp form down to the sick bay. Gerry opened the medicine cabinet and the three applied salves and dressings to the girl's damaged skin."Stay with her," Gerry ordered.Throughout.
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