Heart Eaters
Part Eight
Doug
The spaghetti splattered onto Doug’s plate, he speared it again with his fork, dragged it in little circles, the soggy noodles leaving trails of bland red sauce in their wake. Doug heaved a sigh. The last three days at the hospital had been miserable without her. He had thought that his job was ok, even that he liked it, but now he wondered if it was Lucy that made him happy to come to work. The idea of making her smile, even for only a second, the smell of her in the hall, just the knowing that she’s close, were these things what made him smile throughout his workday. With the way he felt he tended to believe so, and he decided that was just fine. Depressed at the prospect of two more days without seeing her face, Doug leaned back in his chair and wondered, once again, if there was anything he could have done to avoid the suspension he had dealt her.
Damn! I’m crazy about her! He thought as he remembered the way her hair had smelled of lavender and vanilla. Lavender, she must love lavender. She has certainly created a fondness in me for the scent. I wonder if I could go by and see her again? She didn’t really invite me back, he pondered. Maybe, I could go by after work? Wait, no, I have the potential buyer coming to look at mom’s house at five… dang! Maybe, I could reschedule. No, no, I can’t. I really need to sell the house.
Doug continued to maul his lunch as he went over the many changes he had made to his parents’ house since their passing nearly a year and a half ago. It took his mind back to Chicago, and the potential his career had had there before he came to be with his sick mother. The youngest of seven, he wasn’t surprised to get the call, his parents were old. She passed soon after his arrival, heart failure, and his father, his mother’s lifelong love, had passed in his sleep only two weeks later. It had been difficult for Doug, but it had also seemed so right for them to go so close together. It had never been one plus one with them. They had always just been one.
The smashing of glass, the clinging of metal fork and spoon, and the curse of a frustrated nurse that had just lost her lunch to the cold, blue speckled tile, jolted Doug from his memories. His eyes found Lucy’s habitual lunch break seat as he rose and dumped the hospital’s poor excuse for food into the trash.
*****
The fragrance of apples and cinnamon danced in the air exciting and tantalizing Susan’s and Lucy’s children. Minute particles of flour hovered in the streams of late afternoon sun that poured through the kitchen windows, and Susan and Lucy chatted through lifted lips as they baked.
“Damn!” Susan cursed dropping the rolling-pin beside the pastry. “I tore it again.”
Lucy moved beside her, retrieved the rolling-pin and began smoothing and shaping, quickly repairing.
“How do you do that?” Susan said with a smile as she refilled her wine glass.
“You are too impatient with the dough.” Lucy said, turning to Susan as she wrapped the now perfectly shaped and tear-free pie crust around the rolling-pin then eased it into the pie tin.
“Well you always had me when it came to baking, but give me a rump of beef and a few potatoes and I’ll give you the Mona Lisa of main dishes.”
Lucy laughed. The sound tickled Susan’s heart.
“Luce, I have a favor to ask.” Susan said.
“Anything.”
“I want you to come look at a house with me.” Susan said, but hurried on when Lucy raised an eyebrow. “It’s on Oak Street, you know off Main.”
“Yes, I know where Oak Street is.” Lucy replied the smile growing on her face. “Susan what does this mean?”
“I miss you, I miss home. The only reason we were in Lincoln was for Jonathan’s family. Jonathan is gone,” Susan paused. “I never grew very close to his family, and I’m ready to come home. I have savings from working the past two years, and there was some life insurance. Anyway, I have more than enough-”
“So you’re staying!” Lucy threw her arms around Susan almost knocking them to the floor. “This is the most wonderful news I’ve heard in years!”
“Yes, and it’s the most wonderful news I’ve had to give in years. So you’ll look at the house with me? I have to meet the owner at five thirty.”
“Yes!”
Sheets of water pounded against the windshield as Susan struggled to get to her appointment on time. Gusts of wind tore the few remaining leaves from their limbs and tossed them against her car. Susan hated storms; tornadoes were the only thing that bothered her about moving back home.
“There,” Lucy said squinting. “That’s it, 201 Oak Street, that little blue house.”
Doug heard the car pull into the drive with relief. As he walked toward the door, he heard high-pitched cursing that he figured was directed at the weather and smiled. “Mrs. Harmon,” he called as he opened the door then froze when he saw Susan’s face. “Susan!”
“Doug!” Susan said eyes wide. “I guess it’s Mr. Doug Harding, funny that we never exchanged first names.”
“Yes,” he said smiling. “Lucy?” He called as she jumped from the car into the rain and ran for the porch. His heart flipped in his chest making him feel twelve years old.
“Doug,” she said as she lowered her umbrella and shook it slightly. “Susan never told me you were the homeowner.”
“No, we neglected to give our first names for some reason.” Doug said unable to remove his eyes from her. She glowed, brighter than he had ever seen her; it made his mind reel with pleasure.
Doug endeavored to focus as he showed them the house. Laughter, even giggles spilled from Lucy and Susan as they examined the lovely little place. Unable to avoid it, he joined them often and made no effort to control his desire to let his eyes soak in and lick at the corners of Lucy’s bright face.
“It’s perfect!” Susan declared. “Three rooms, two bathrooms, which means, I get my own, close to Lucy’s, remodeled well,” she said looking to Doug. “Did you do the remodeling yourself?”
“Yes, I like carpentry. It gave me things to do after work, which was a distraction after my parents died.
“Oh, I’m sorry Doug. I didn’t realize.” Lucy said feeling ashamed. I worked with him and didn’t even know. How self-absorbed have I been?
“It’s ok now. That’s why I’m here actually. I moved from Chicago when my mother fell ill, and didn’t go to war for the same reason. My father couldn’t be without her and died a short time later.
Like a cannonball the guilt hit, all this time he has mourned too. He reached out, tried to lift you, and you merely brushed him aside with a polite smile. How cruel to not even notice his pain, and judge him for not going to war without even knowing the cause. Lucy berated herself.
“So,” Doug said interrupting Lucy’s internal rant. “Do you want it?”
“Yes!” Susan proclaimed and spun around taking in what would soon be hers.
“Wonderful!” Doug beamed. “I’ll get started on the paperwork. We can have you set up in a week.”
“Thank you Doug.” Susan chirped.
Lucy and Susan chattered about color schemes, rental trucks and furniture stores as they sauntered toward the front door. Doug smiled uncontrollably at the light he saw all over the two women. Happiness was banging at Lucy’s door, and he prayed with all his might that she’d let it in.
As Doug moved to open the door for them it reminded Lucy of the thoughts he had interrupted earlier. “Doug,” Lucy said thoughtfully.
“Yes?”
“Susan and I have been cooking and baking this afternoon, and I wonder if you’d like to come join us for dinner? We have more than enough.”
“That would be lovely,” he jumped.
“Great,” Lucy smiled. “It’ll be soon, if that is alright? Susan and I were just going to get some wine in town then head home.”
“Yeah,” Susan added. “Some one seems to have drunk all our wine.” They laughed.
“Why don’t you ladies allow me to pick up the wine and meet you there? Merlot, Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, what is your desire?” Doug inquired.
“Merlot,” they answered in unison.
“Ok, see you in a few.”
*****
“Well ladies,” Doug said leaning back in his cherry wood chair, “that was probably the best roast, and pie I have ever eaten!”
“Oh, now you lie simply to make my little sister feel good.” Susan crowed as she refilled her wine glass.
“Surly your mothers were better than ours,” Lucy said, the words warm as they feel off her wine stained lips.
“No, my mother was an excellent mother, but a horrible cook.” Doug laughed. “Everything was mixture, some of this, some of that, terrible! To this day, I cannot eat casserole and enjoy it.”
Lucy watched him as he remembered his mother; his laughter was like little fingers inside her chest that pulled at the knots and cords choking her heart. The sound of her own laughter startled her and made her want to weep with joy. This is what it must have been like for Rip Van Winkle, Lucy thought. What beauty to be awake, what joy to feel more than emptiness.
For hours they talked, laughed, drank, lived. Lucy’s insides hummed like a bee on the wind, ecstatic to feel alive.
Doug was telling Susan and Lucy what is was like to grow up with six siblings. Face bright, he was recalling a time when two of his older sisters had fought.
“Oh my,” Susan interrupted. “Are you serious? She actually swung a hot frying pan at her!”
“Yes, but it was because Sarah had thrown a loaf of bread at her!”
“It sound like fun,” Susan laughed and noticed Lucy staring at Doug.
Doug did too, his heart and body stirred. Lucy looked away, her cheeks bright red.
“Anyway, Doug, I had a lovely time. I’m tired though, and think I’m going to head off.” Susan bent, planted a kiss on his cheek.
“It was lovely. I’m so happy you’ll be staying.”
“I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much,” Lucy said as Susan walked up the stairs.
“I can’t either.” He sipped his wine, trying not to stare at her gorgeous face, he failed. “You’re so beautiful.”
Lucy smiled, surprising him. “Well, I told Susan that you were pretty attractive, but that was a lie.”
“Oh really,” Doug said leaning toward her. “Do you not think so?”
Lucy shook her head. “No, I would have to say that you’re closer to incredibly handsome.”
In one swift move, he leaned in and laid his lips against hers. She jumped, but quickly relaxed into the softness of his mouth. It was tender, slow, simmering. Lucy gave into his arms as he pulled her to him. Hotter, fiercer it built; Lucy twined her fingers in his hair as his grip around her tightened. Somehow -she didn’t care by what force- Lucy was straddling his lap. She moaned as his hands caressed her shoulders, her back, and her ass. A year of pent-up desire beat at the edges of his control as he fought the urge to take her there, pleasure her right on the table. God, how he wanted her.
“Doug,” the word rasped out of her throat.
“Lucy,” he breathed ravaging her mouth once more.
Lucy danced inside at the immense desire she felt as she pulled at his shirt. It was so real, so overwhelming.
“Wait, wait,” he forced the words out.
Breathing hard, face flushed, she pulled her lips from his.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you. I mean, I haven’t even taken you out on a date.” His ran his finger along her jaw, and acutely felt the warmth of her bare bake against his other hand.
“Your right,” Lucy said leaning her cheek into his hand. “I don’t know Doug. Are you sure you want me? I think I’m broken inside. Really, I’m not sure of what I am ready for.”
“You’re not broken. You’re perfect. You’re what I want. We can do this slowly, let me take you out.” He said, and just because he could he pulled her face to his again and softly kissed her.
“Ok, I’ll give you a chance if you’re willing to take one on me.”
Like heaven, like springtime, like a fire in the night, that was what he felt as she spoke and laid her head on his shoulder.
He lifted her and walked to the couch. Sitting, he said. “Just let me hold you, feel you near to me.”
She snuggled into his side, breathing deeply his warmth and slept without nightmares for the first time in over a year.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Heart Eaters - Part Seven - Susan
Heart Eaters
Susan
Part Seven
“I guess you’re right.” Lucy grudgingly admitted. “It did work out perfectly. If I’m going to be suspended from work for the week it’s good that it’s the week you’re here.” Despite her sour tone, Lucy smiled at her older sister Susan. “This wine is amazing,” she said as she lifted her glass again. Lucy studied her sister over the rim of her crystal, fluted glass. They looked nothing alike. Lucy was petite, slim, whereas Susan was extremely tall and sturdy, like an Amazon princess Lucy always thought. Susan’s emerald eyes sparkled with joy to be with her sister, and her lovely high cheek bones blushed from the wine. Many men had been intimidated by Susan’s size as they were growing up and had shied away despite her exquisite face and long, full golden hair. Lucy had never shied away. Susan was beautiful, and Lucy loved her so dearly she almost cried when she thought of it.
“I agree,” Susan said, a smile helping the words to dance a little. “It’s so wonderful to see you. Davy and May really miss their cousins as well.”
“I know they’re not going to want to go to sleep.” Lucy said, looking toward the joyful shrieks and shouts coming from Violets and Sandra’s room.
“Yes, but they need to so we can talk.”
“Oh no, is this my sister talking or Dr. Mason talking?” Lucy said frowning.
Susan narrowed her eyes but still smiled. “I know you say you don’t need any of my therapy mumbo-jumbo, but in all seriousness sis, how are you doing?”
Lucy sighed loudly. “Ok, lets get the little ones to bed. Then, I will let you hypnotized me or whatever it is you do.”
“I’ll ignore the mocking because I’m so pleased you’re ready to talk.” Susan said smiling and set her glass down. “By the way, if you’re so happy to have the week off since I’m here why are you so pissed at your boss? What was his name, Doug?”
“I don’t know. He just, he sometimes, well, I just thought he would let it go. You know, give me a pass or something.” Lucy said trying to avoid the questioning look on Susan’s face.
“Why would he, doesn’t he have to. I mean isn’t he required by law?”
“Yes he is required by law to punish employees that assault patients, I guess. He did find a way to wave the fine though.” Lucy said as they helped Bobby and May into their pajamas.
“He got you out of the fine, and you still bitched him out? Good grief Lucy!” Susan scolded.
Lucy smiled, thankful for the honesty of a sister and sucked in a deep breath. “It’s just easier to be angry.”
A look of understanding softened Susan’s features, “easier to just be angry in general or angry at Doug?”
Lucy swallowed hard. “Both.”
“Oh, I see.”
After a massive amount of fussing, crying and begging Susan and Lucy finally got their five children to bed. Gathering their wine, chocolate and green olives, they moved out to the porch. A cool breeze rustled the brightly colored, fall leaves, and the moon shone brightly on the leaves that had already fallen.
“So,” Susan began, “tell me about this Doug.”
“There really isn’t anything to tell. Nothing has happened, and nothing will happen.” Lucy said avoiding eye contact.
“Come on Lucy. You know I know you better than that. Do you have feelings for him?”
“And what if I did? I can’t, I just can’t. It’s wrong.” Lucy looked at Susan, her eyes begging.
“Lucy, its been a year hasn’t it?” The question was soft.
“Eleven months, and fourteen days since the army gave me the news. Two years, three months and five days since, I saw him.” Lucy fought the tears.
“Sis, I know it’s hard. After, I lost David in forty-two I thought I would die.”
“I remember.” Lucy said turning to Susan.
“But, I found a way to live; I had to, for my kids, for myself.”
“I just don’t know. I just don’t think I’m ready for the relationship that Doug wants. He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”
“Is he hot?” Susan asked with a smirk.
“Susan!”
“What? Well?”
“Well, I guess he is pretty attractive.” Lucy couldn’t help the smile that came with the words or the warmth. “Anyway, I thought I was going to get a session with my favorite shrink?”
“You try and distract me with your flattery dear sister. Fine, you can tell me more about this pretty attractive guy later. So, talk.”
“Just talk, no questions from the Doctor, no ‘you are getting sleepy’.”
“You know you mock me a great deal for being in the medical field as well.” Susan said poking Lucy in the arm.
“Yeah, well I’m in a practical field.”
“Oh shut it,” Susan laughed. “Just tell me about these dreams you said you were having.”
“Well it used to be that I only ever dreamed of Robert, but in the last month I have been having nightmares about some of my patients from the hospital.”
“Yeah, I think I remember talking about your dreams of Robert last time I came down from Lincoln. You always dreamed of how he might have died. I mean how, if he had died.” Susan corrected.
Lucy swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry.” Susan pleaded.
“You don’t have to apologize.” Lucy said managing to lift one corner of her mouth. “I know he’s gone.”
Susan wanted to encourage her to have hope, but she believed Robert was gone, just like her David. At least I knew for sure. It’s time for her to move on, Susan thought.
“Anyway, my patients, Benedict Galloway, Helen Christenson and Heath Deerborn, I’ve dreamed of them all. It was like living, experiencing the things they did.”
“What did they do?”
“It’s not pleasant.” Lucy warned.
“I can handle it.”
Lucy told Susan everything about the three that had plagued her heart, mind and subconscious. Images of a red-hot poker in the forehead of Benedict’s wife, Ruby May, Helen’s parents burning for their sins, Camilla, violated and broken beneath Heaths furious need. Susan blanched a few times, but for the most part hid her revulsion. Lucy finished, and they sat in silence, Susan thinking and Lucy knowing she was.
“Well do you want to know what I think?”
“I guess.” Lucy replied.
“Well, I think it’s a warning, from your subconscious.”
Lucy huffed.
“I’m serious. Just hear me out…ok.” Lucy tilted her head. “Please,” Susan begged.
“Ok, enlighten me.” Lucy smiled and shook her head.
“Alright, so, first Benedict, what finally caused him to snap?”
“His wife I guess.”
“And what his wife wouldn’t give him.”
“Sex?” Lucy asked with a chuckle.
“No, love, he loved her, and she didn’t love him. Love drove him insane.”
“Ok, I can see that.” Lucy agreed.
“Then there’s Helen. Her sense of morality, of what’s right and what’s wrong, her moral compass-”
“Yeah, I see. Her sense of what’s right caused her to kill her parents, lose her mind.”
“Right,” Susan confirmed. “And Heath, it was his misuse of passion and desire. He allowed it to consume him.”
“Ok, so what does that have to do with me?”
“Can I be honest sis? Are you ready for that? I don’t want to hurt-”
“I’ll be fine,” Lucy interrupted.
“I think you’re allowing the same emotions to destroy you, to depress you, to rob you of your sanity. I did the same thing for a long time. Your letting your love for Robert kill you.” Lucy flinched, it was like a knife in Susan’s heart to see her sister in pain, but she pressed on. “You’re letting your idea’s of what’s right and wrong cause you to painfully mourn him still. I know you think, you feel like it is wrong to move on with your life, but if you don’t move you wither away.” Susan took a deep breath hoping Lucy would forgive her for what she was about to say. “If you suppress your desire for Doug it will fester and swell, like a splinter only worsening your pain. You have to learn to let go.”
Tears slid silently from Lucy’s deep chocolate eyes. Susan moved her chair closer and gathered her little sister into her arms; wishing she could take the pain into herself, but all she could do was comfort.
“I’m sorry. I said too much.”
“No, no,” Lucy countered. “I need to hear it. It’s true. You’re right, I feel like I am only inches from being in a padded room myself, but I don’t know how. How, Susan, how do I move on?”
“One step at a time little sister, one step. But you have to be willing to take each little step as it comes.”
They both turned in surprise as a dark blue ford pulled into Lucy’s drive.
“Who is that?” Susan asked staring at Lucy’s shocked expression. “Is that Doug?” She asked when Lucy said nothing. “Dang!” Susan crowed as he stepped from the car with flowers in his hand. “That is way hotter than ‘pretty attractive’!”
“Shh! What is he doing here?” Lucy asked as she stood.
“Hey Lucy,” Doug called as he approached giving them a large grin.
“Mm,” Susan grunted and got an elbow in the ribs.
“Hey Doug, what can I do for you?” Lucy asked and Susan frowned at her detached tone.
“One step at a time little sister.” Susan said in her ear. Lucy heaved a sigh.
“Would you like to join us?” Lucy asked gesturing toward the table. “We have a lovely Merlot, uh, Italian I think.”
“I would love to.”
“This is my sister Susan,” Lucy said after he sat at the wicker table.
“Its wonderful to meet you,” Doug said as he took her hand in his and laid a soft kiss on her knuckles. Susan turned red, and Lucy smiled knowing the power of his charm.
“So very nice to meet you.” Susan purred.
Doug released Susan’s hand and turned toward Lucy.“Um, Lucy, I came by because I wanted to, needed to explain something. If you’ll let me.”
Lucy was about to answer when Susan spoke up. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“No,” Lucy blurted. “You don’t have to go. I’ll just tell Doug goodnight.”
“No, no, don’t worry about me. I can find my own way to bed, just one step at a time…right.” Susan said as she rose to leave, despite Lucy’s pleading eyes. “Goodnight Doug, it was lovely to have met you.”
“Same here,” Doug called as she walked into the house. “Anyway, I brought you these.” He said handing Lucy the flowers.
One step at a time, Lucy thought as she took the flowers.
“I’m so sorry about-”
“No,” Lucy cut him off. “I’m sorry. I know you had no choice except to do what you did. I Know I shouldn’t have hit Heath, but he deserved it, and I knew there would be consequences. Please forgive me for the way I treated you Doug. I shouldn’t have taken my issues out on you. It was wrong.”
“God you’re beautiful when you apologize,” Doug said gazing into her eyes and smiling. He reached up and cupped her cheek, and his heart danced when she didn’t jerk away but pushed closer. With a sigh of pure bliss, Doug let her fall into his arms.
With no more tears to cry, Lucy simply sank into his strong embrace.
Susan
Part Seven
“I guess you’re right.” Lucy grudgingly admitted. “It did work out perfectly. If I’m going to be suspended from work for the week it’s good that it’s the week you’re here.” Despite her sour tone, Lucy smiled at her older sister Susan. “This wine is amazing,” she said as she lifted her glass again. Lucy studied her sister over the rim of her crystal, fluted glass. They looked nothing alike. Lucy was petite, slim, whereas Susan was extremely tall and sturdy, like an Amazon princess Lucy always thought. Susan’s emerald eyes sparkled with joy to be with her sister, and her lovely high cheek bones blushed from the wine. Many men had been intimidated by Susan’s size as they were growing up and had shied away despite her exquisite face and long, full golden hair. Lucy had never shied away. Susan was beautiful, and Lucy loved her so dearly she almost cried when she thought of it.
“I agree,” Susan said, a smile helping the words to dance a little. “It’s so wonderful to see you. Davy and May really miss their cousins as well.”
“I know they’re not going to want to go to sleep.” Lucy said, looking toward the joyful shrieks and shouts coming from Violets and Sandra’s room.
“Yes, but they need to so we can talk.”
“Oh no, is this my sister talking or Dr. Mason talking?” Lucy said frowning.
Susan narrowed her eyes but still smiled. “I know you say you don’t need any of my therapy mumbo-jumbo, but in all seriousness sis, how are you doing?”
Lucy sighed loudly. “Ok, lets get the little ones to bed. Then, I will let you hypnotized me or whatever it is you do.”
“I’ll ignore the mocking because I’m so pleased you’re ready to talk.” Susan said smiling and set her glass down. “By the way, if you’re so happy to have the week off since I’m here why are you so pissed at your boss? What was his name, Doug?”
“I don’t know. He just, he sometimes, well, I just thought he would let it go. You know, give me a pass or something.” Lucy said trying to avoid the questioning look on Susan’s face.
“Why would he, doesn’t he have to. I mean isn’t he required by law?”
“Yes he is required by law to punish employees that assault patients, I guess. He did find a way to wave the fine though.” Lucy said as they helped Bobby and May into their pajamas.
“He got you out of the fine, and you still bitched him out? Good grief Lucy!” Susan scolded.
Lucy smiled, thankful for the honesty of a sister and sucked in a deep breath. “It’s just easier to be angry.”
A look of understanding softened Susan’s features, “easier to just be angry in general or angry at Doug?”
Lucy swallowed hard. “Both.”
“Oh, I see.”
After a massive amount of fussing, crying and begging Susan and Lucy finally got their five children to bed. Gathering their wine, chocolate and green olives, they moved out to the porch. A cool breeze rustled the brightly colored, fall leaves, and the moon shone brightly on the leaves that had already fallen.
“So,” Susan began, “tell me about this Doug.”
“There really isn’t anything to tell. Nothing has happened, and nothing will happen.” Lucy said avoiding eye contact.
“Come on Lucy. You know I know you better than that. Do you have feelings for him?”
“And what if I did? I can’t, I just can’t. It’s wrong.” Lucy looked at Susan, her eyes begging.
“Lucy, its been a year hasn’t it?” The question was soft.
“Eleven months, and fourteen days since the army gave me the news. Two years, three months and five days since, I saw him.” Lucy fought the tears.
“Sis, I know it’s hard. After, I lost David in forty-two I thought I would die.”
“I remember.” Lucy said turning to Susan.
“But, I found a way to live; I had to, for my kids, for myself.”
“I just don’t know. I just don’t think I’m ready for the relationship that Doug wants. He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”
“Is he hot?” Susan asked with a smirk.
“Susan!”
“What? Well?”
“Well, I guess he is pretty attractive.” Lucy couldn’t help the smile that came with the words or the warmth. “Anyway, I thought I was going to get a session with my favorite shrink?”
“You try and distract me with your flattery dear sister. Fine, you can tell me more about this pretty attractive guy later. So, talk.”
“Just talk, no questions from the Doctor, no ‘you are getting sleepy’.”
“You know you mock me a great deal for being in the medical field as well.” Susan said poking Lucy in the arm.
“Yeah, well I’m in a practical field.”
“Oh shut it,” Susan laughed. “Just tell me about these dreams you said you were having.”
“Well it used to be that I only ever dreamed of Robert, but in the last month I have been having nightmares about some of my patients from the hospital.”
“Yeah, I think I remember talking about your dreams of Robert last time I came down from Lincoln. You always dreamed of how he might have died. I mean how, if he had died.” Susan corrected.
Lucy swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry.” Susan pleaded.
“You don’t have to apologize.” Lucy said managing to lift one corner of her mouth. “I know he’s gone.”
Susan wanted to encourage her to have hope, but she believed Robert was gone, just like her David. At least I knew for sure. It’s time for her to move on, Susan thought.
“Anyway, my patients, Benedict Galloway, Helen Christenson and Heath Deerborn, I’ve dreamed of them all. It was like living, experiencing the things they did.”
“What did they do?”
“It’s not pleasant.” Lucy warned.
“I can handle it.”
Lucy told Susan everything about the three that had plagued her heart, mind and subconscious. Images of a red-hot poker in the forehead of Benedict’s wife, Ruby May, Helen’s parents burning for their sins, Camilla, violated and broken beneath Heaths furious need. Susan blanched a few times, but for the most part hid her revulsion. Lucy finished, and they sat in silence, Susan thinking and Lucy knowing she was.
“Well do you want to know what I think?”
“I guess.” Lucy replied.
“Well, I think it’s a warning, from your subconscious.”
Lucy huffed.
“I’m serious. Just hear me out…ok.” Lucy tilted her head. “Please,” Susan begged.
“Ok, enlighten me.” Lucy smiled and shook her head.
“Alright, so, first Benedict, what finally caused him to snap?”
“His wife I guess.”
“And what his wife wouldn’t give him.”
“Sex?” Lucy asked with a chuckle.
“No, love, he loved her, and she didn’t love him. Love drove him insane.”
“Ok, I can see that.” Lucy agreed.
“Then there’s Helen. Her sense of morality, of what’s right and what’s wrong, her moral compass-”
“Yeah, I see. Her sense of what’s right caused her to kill her parents, lose her mind.”
“Right,” Susan confirmed. “And Heath, it was his misuse of passion and desire. He allowed it to consume him.”
“Ok, so what does that have to do with me?”
“Can I be honest sis? Are you ready for that? I don’t want to hurt-”
“I’ll be fine,” Lucy interrupted.
“I think you’re allowing the same emotions to destroy you, to depress you, to rob you of your sanity. I did the same thing for a long time. Your letting your love for Robert kill you.” Lucy flinched, it was like a knife in Susan’s heart to see her sister in pain, but she pressed on. “You’re letting your idea’s of what’s right and wrong cause you to painfully mourn him still. I know you think, you feel like it is wrong to move on with your life, but if you don’t move you wither away.” Susan took a deep breath hoping Lucy would forgive her for what she was about to say. “If you suppress your desire for Doug it will fester and swell, like a splinter only worsening your pain. You have to learn to let go.”
Tears slid silently from Lucy’s deep chocolate eyes. Susan moved her chair closer and gathered her little sister into her arms; wishing she could take the pain into herself, but all she could do was comfort.
“I’m sorry. I said too much.”
“No, no,” Lucy countered. “I need to hear it. It’s true. You’re right, I feel like I am only inches from being in a padded room myself, but I don’t know how. How, Susan, how do I move on?”
“One step at a time little sister, one step. But you have to be willing to take each little step as it comes.”
They both turned in surprise as a dark blue ford pulled into Lucy’s drive.
“Who is that?” Susan asked staring at Lucy’s shocked expression. “Is that Doug?” She asked when Lucy said nothing. “Dang!” Susan crowed as he stepped from the car with flowers in his hand. “That is way hotter than ‘pretty attractive’!”
“Shh! What is he doing here?” Lucy asked as she stood.
“Hey Lucy,” Doug called as he approached giving them a large grin.
“Mm,” Susan grunted and got an elbow in the ribs.
“Hey Doug, what can I do for you?” Lucy asked and Susan frowned at her detached tone.
“One step at a time little sister.” Susan said in her ear. Lucy heaved a sigh.
“Would you like to join us?” Lucy asked gesturing toward the table. “We have a lovely Merlot, uh, Italian I think.”
“I would love to.”
“This is my sister Susan,” Lucy said after he sat at the wicker table.
“Its wonderful to meet you,” Doug said as he took her hand in his and laid a soft kiss on her knuckles. Susan turned red, and Lucy smiled knowing the power of his charm.
“So very nice to meet you.” Susan purred.
Doug released Susan’s hand and turned toward Lucy.“Um, Lucy, I came by because I wanted to, needed to explain something. If you’ll let me.”
Lucy was about to answer when Susan spoke up. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“No,” Lucy blurted. “You don’t have to go. I’ll just tell Doug goodnight.”
“No, no, don’t worry about me. I can find my own way to bed, just one step at a time…right.” Susan said as she rose to leave, despite Lucy’s pleading eyes. “Goodnight Doug, it was lovely to have met you.”
“Same here,” Doug called as she walked into the house. “Anyway, I brought you these.” He said handing Lucy the flowers.
One step at a time, Lucy thought as she took the flowers.
“I’m so sorry about-”
“No,” Lucy cut him off. “I’m sorry. I know you had no choice except to do what you did. I Know I shouldn’t have hit Heath, but he deserved it, and I knew there would be consequences. Please forgive me for the way I treated you Doug. I shouldn’t have taken my issues out on you. It was wrong.”
“God you’re beautiful when you apologize,” Doug said gazing into her eyes and smiling. He reached up and cupped her cheek, and his heart danced when she didn’t jerk away but pushed closer. With a sigh of pure bliss, Doug let her fall into his arms.
With no more tears to cry, Lucy simply sank into his strong embrace.
Heart Eaters - Part Six - Heath
(This post contains graphic violence that some may consider offensive.)
Heart Eaters
Part Six
Heath
Lucy was dreaming, and she knew it. Like a prison, the dream held her. Nearly eleven months ago she had realized her dreams would not be an escape for her as she had hoped, rather they served only to intensify her misery. Robert, her lover, her husband, the father of her babies, that’s who she normally dreamed of. Countless times her subconscious, or maybe demons Lucy thought, had vividly portrayed Robert’s gruesome death, but as she stood praying and staring at a white wall with blue floral pictures she knew this dream was different. With mixed emotions, she realized it wasn’t Robert in the bed behind her. Relief that she wouldn’t have to see him die in yet another way filled her as fear of the unknown tightened in her belly.
Her lungs ached from the smoke, and the heat at her back was almost unbearable. Don’t turn around. Wake UP! Lucy cautioned herself, but morbid curiosity, like a fish-hook in her cheek spun her around. The scene that assaulted her eyes had her head spinning like the eye of a hurricane and her stomach heaving like the waves tossed by that storm.
Flesh, skin, muscle, bone burned. A sick, sweet iron smelling smoke billowed from the two blazing corpses. One of the four wooden bedposts fell onto the bed breaking open the blistered bodies. Blood sizzled and popped as it oozed into the mayhem.
Lucy retched, her body doubling over. Vomit covered her black shoes and her tan and blue uniform.
“Oh God, oh God!” Lucy screamed. “I’m Helen!” She looked back at the bed. “Those were her parents!”
“Mommy, mommy,” Sandra called as she shook her mother. “Wake up.”
Lucy’s eyes flashed open and she bolted straight up in her bed. “What?” she asked holding her hand to her stomach.
“You were crying and screaming. You woke me up. Are you ok?”
Lucy turned to her young, fair-skinned daughter. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. It was just a bad dream.” She pulled Sandra into her lap relishing her warmth. Lucy felt so cold.
“You always have bad dreams.” Sandra said still wide-eyed with worry.
“I know baby.”
“Do you want me to sing to you like daddy used to do for me when I had a scary dream?” Sandra asked as she pushed her mother’s hair off of her eyes.
Lucy only nodded afraid she would cry.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know mommy how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away.” Sandra, with her sweet, high voice sang it again and again as Lucy cried in her daughter’s arms.
Lucy’s eyes were still a little red and puffy when she walked into the nurse’s office at the hospital. Her heart sank when she realized Doug wasn’t there and her frustration at knowing she wanted to see him made it that much harder to control the tears.
“Thank God Helen isn’t on my schedule today.” She said as she went over her duties, then retrieved her supplies. “Time to work and not think.”
Lucy cursed herself as her heart fluttered at the sound of her name on Doug’s lips. Pushing her cart of supplies to the left of room one o’ one, Lucy turned to face Doug. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth so she pressed her lips together in an effort to hide it.
“Good morning,” as always his face shone brilliantly causing the icicles on her heart to drip.
“Hey Doug,” the smile escaped.
“Are you ok?” He asked as he examined her eyes.
“Yes, just had a rough night.”
He wanted to send her home. Tell her to get rest. Mostly, he wanted to just hold her, but she was smiling at him, and it frazzled his thoughts.
He stared and Lucy demeaned herself for wishing his arms would encircle her. It’s just wrong! She thought.
“Did you need something?” She asked.
“Uh, yes, sorry. I needed to tell you something.” He paused. “Uh, oh yeah, patient one o’ one, um, Heath Deerborn,” he struggled to regain his composer. “He has been here three months, and I need to do a mental examination so his opium dosage has been reduced. He will be more alert, perhaps aggressive. The institution he came from had to heavily dose him because he was,” Doug paused wishing he could just tell her she couldn’t see Heath that day, but he knew she would bulk.
“He was what?”
“Sexually aggressive, he attacked one of their nurses. Anyway, I want one of the security officers in the cell with you.”
“Oh, ok.”
“If you don’t want-”
“No,” Lucy said quickly. “I can do it.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that. So Donald is coming now.” Just as he said it Donald came through the doors and headed down the hall. Watching Donald’s long, black night stick bang against his knee made Lucy rethink her decision to tend to Heath. Seeing the fear slightly change her features, Doug tried, once again to dissuade her, but to no avail. “I asked Donald to come even though he is ancient,” Doug said it loudly giving Donald a big teasing smile; “because I know you kinda like him.”
“Now, sixty ain’t ancient.” Donald replied with a smile. “And Lucy loves me even though I’m old.”
“That I do,” Lucy smiled broadly causing both Donald and Doug’s hearts to skip a beat.
After Heath was secured Lucy attempted to clean his cell. He watched her, his eyes slithering, gorging, making her feel soiled and used. Even with Donald standing two feet away tapping his weapon repeatedly against his palm Lucy felt vulnerable, and was dismayed to find it could become more uncomfortable. Heath spoke, like plague it filled every corner of the room.
“You are beautiful,” Heath breathed. “Has anyone ever told you how exquisitely lovely you are?”
Lucy tensed. The sound of Heaths voice was smooth, and sucked at her strength, it wriggled agilely like a parasitic creature to embed and feed.
“I could give you such pleasure.”
“Now there ain’t no reason to talk to Miss Lucy in that manner!” Donald ordered as he stepped toward Heath.
Heath continued to stare at Lucy. “Mmm,” he sucked air in, “you smell of Lavender and peaches, so much woman.”
Donald hit Heath in the arm with some force. “I said you ain’t to speak to Miss Lucy!”
“I love to see the flush beneath your cheeks as I think of running my hands along your soft skin,” Heath said not even sparing Donald and his night stick a glance. Even after Donald hit him again, knocking him to the floor his eyes drilled into Lucy.
“No,” Lucy called getting up and stopping Donald before he hit Heath again. “He is going to talk wither you hit him or not and Doug can’t examine him if you beat him to a pulp. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure Miss Lucy?” Donald asked, and Lucy smiled at the care and concern she saw in her old hazel friends eyes.
“I am.”
“You ignore me now, but once I show you you’ll be begging me for more.” Heath said sitting up. His russet hair fell across his face and his chocolate eyes burned with desire. Blood dripped from his full angled lips and his strait small nose staining his white strait jacket.
Lucy imagined he had been very attractive once, and from the sound of his voice she figured he had probably been very skilled at getting whatever woman he wanted.
“You could be like my first, Camilla. Yes, Camilla screamed for me to stop, but after I took her she only begged for more.” Lucy scowled at him. She doubted he was referring to the time he lost his virginity, and she doubted the woman he referred to ever agreed to do anything with him. “I’m wealthy,” he continued, “connected, a business owner, I could give you a job. Camilla worked for me, she was my secretary.”
Lucy turned back focusing on her task. Just ignore him!
“Let me tell you about that night,” he said with a wicked smile. “I know it will arouse and impress you.”
As he began to rehash the event he spoke of Lucy damned her vivid imagination.
*****
For weeks Heath wooed her, flowers, chocolates, bonuses, but still she remained professional. As he sat at his desk he watched her through the glass separating his office from her secretarial station. Heath Deerborn was an attractive, wealthy and powerful man, and not getting the object of his desires was a new and infuriating experience.
God I want that women! He though as his eyes traveled the length of her sharp chin, full red lips, sexy dainty nose, and deep blue eyes that he wanted to drown in. And I shall have her.
“Camilla,” he called.
“Yes Mr. Deerborn?” She answered stepping into his office on her long, shapely legs that he could not take his eyes off of.
“Could you close the blind and the door so I can dictate a letter?” He asked as he watched the way her high wasted suit rubbed against her full butt as she moved.
“Right away Mr. Deerborn.”
“Come here.” He called after she finished. Direct, he thought. I just need to be more direct. She stepped in front of his desk with a pad of paper and a pen. “Come around here,” he indicated to the side of his chair and turned that direction. Hesitantly, she moved to the corner of the desk. “Closer,” he said softly rising from his chair. She swallowed hard and took one small step.
“Mr. Deerborn,” Camilla said as he took her left hand into his.
“Heath, call me Heath.”
“Mr. Deerborn I’m married. I don’t think-”
“So am I,” Heath said cupping her cheek in his right hand. “What of it. I want you, and I always get what I want.”
He was smiling as he moved his lips to hers. Anger flashed in his eyes as she jerked away.
“I’m sorry sir! This is not appropriate!” Camilla blurted and stormed from his office.
Eyes on fire, he slammed his fist against his desk. Never in his life had he felt such rage. Never in his life had he been denied something he truly wanted. Well, he though, we will see about that!
As he drove along the well-lit streets of Kansas City he deliberated. I should just call Jane or Mary or Amelia, he thought. They all realize what an honor it is to be with a man like me! Hmm, I could call one of those whores from the gentleman’s club, for the right price they let me hit them and dominate then. He grew hard just thinking of it. How dare her! How dare she brush me off! The more he thought of it the angrier he became. I should have fired her right then and there! After everything I have done for her, given her! She probably went immediately to gossip to all her white trash friends, to laugh! The fury mounted displacing reason. Didn’t she say that her husband was off in Nevada working on one of Hoovers ridiculous projects? I could drop by to apologize. He thought with a wicked smile. As the car turned left, the peaceful air of late fall was left smudged and dirty, a dark trail lingering.
Straightening his jet black tie, Heath reached for the knocker on the door of the small, white house. White trash, he thought again as he compared her small neat house with his mansion outside of town.
“Mr. Dearborn!” Camilla gasped as she opened the door.
“Camilla,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to, needed to come by and apologize for my behavior earlier. It was deplorable! Can you ever forgive me? I swear if you would continue to work for me it wouldn’t happen again.”
“I’m not fired?”
“No, god no!” He said almost even convincing himself. “That was my fault this morning. You’re just so lovely that I lost my head.” He said as he realized that he was standing directly under the porch light. “May I come in?” Anger blazed inside him when she hesitated. “There’s quit a chill in the night.” He said with a smile as he wrapped his arms around himself.”
“Sure, um, yeah.” Camilla swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat as she pulled open the door.
“Mmm, it smells wonderful.” Heath said and beamed a charming smile. Despite the warning that rang in the back of her mind she responded to his magnetism. “What is that? Pot Roast? I’d love to join you.”
“Oh, well, it’s not much, just leftovers, nothing special.”
“I don’t mind.”
Camilla swallowed hard. “Mr. Deerborn,” she said firmly. “I will see you at work tomorrow now that we have this misunderstanding under control.”
“Yes, of course.” He said through tight lips.
Camille moved around him toward the door, her long blond hair hanging in loose waves past her shoulders. He reached and wrapped his hands around her hair. With one violent tug, he pulled her off her feet and quickly dragged her down the hall and into the kitchen. She struggled to stand, to run. He threw hard against the floor, and she choked for breath. A second later he was on top of her. Once, twice, again he hit her across the face, setting her ears to ringing, her head to spinning. Camilla could feel the soft skin on her face bruising under his heavy hand that muffled her screams. Heath’s eyes burned, firing scorching arrows into her soul.
Ripping and tearing warned her of what was to come. Her tight suit couldn’t just be hoisted and she thanked fate for any extra time it bought her. Blood dripped from her nails as she swung wildly at him. Grunts and groan escaped his lips as her knee cam up between his legs, but she was dismayed to see the pain was only more arousing.
Camilla fought. She wondered for a moment why he didn’t simply knock her out to make things easier, but then she realized it was what he wanted. Tears poured from her eyes. Somehow she knew if she could stop struggling it would piss him off, take some of the pleasure. Camilla couldn’t stop. Good, bad, it didn’t matter, she had to fight.
Crying out she felt blood start to flow from her breast. Heath drank at it. Clawed at it. Laughing, nearly singing, he tore away her blouse.
“Never before,” he said staring into her eyes. “Never have I felt such pleasure.” He laughed it out triumphantly.
When he reached between her legs she kicked hard, her knee catching his chin staggering him back. Anger danced with arousal as he back-handed her across the face. Her eyes went black ,and for a moment she wanted to sink into oblivion. NO! She thought. Not without a fight!
Lucy couldn’t take it any more. “Stop!” She screamed at Heath. Her teeth ground together when she realized she had just given him the reaction he had wanted. A fury she didn’t quit understand stood up inside her. The smug look on Heaths face faltered slightly as she marched toward him. Donald smiled as Lucy jerked the club from his belt and let loose a vicious swing. His jaw made a lovely cracking sound and he fell unconscious to the floor.
Heart Eaters
Part Six
Heath
Lucy was dreaming, and she knew it. Like a prison, the dream held her. Nearly eleven months ago she had realized her dreams would not be an escape for her as she had hoped, rather they served only to intensify her misery. Robert, her lover, her husband, the father of her babies, that’s who she normally dreamed of. Countless times her subconscious, or maybe demons Lucy thought, had vividly portrayed Robert’s gruesome death, but as she stood praying and staring at a white wall with blue floral pictures she knew this dream was different. With mixed emotions, she realized it wasn’t Robert in the bed behind her. Relief that she wouldn’t have to see him die in yet another way filled her as fear of the unknown tightened in her belly.
Her lungs ached from the smoke, and the heat at her back was almost unbearable. Don’t turn around. Wake UP! Lucy cautioned herself, but morbid curiosity, like a fish-hook in her cheek spun her around. The scene that assaulted her eyes had her head spinning like the eye of a hurricane and her stomach heaving like the waves tossed by that storm.
Flesh, skin, muscle, bone burned. A sick, sweet iron smelling smoke billowed from the two blazing corpses. One of the four wooden bedposts fell onto the bed breaking open the blistered bodies. Blood sizzled and popped as it oozed into the mayhem.
Lucy retched, her body doubling over. Vomit covered her black shoes and her tan and blue uniform.
“Oh God, oh God!” Lucy screamed. “I’m Helen!” She looked back at the bed. “Those were her parents!”
“Mommy, mommy,” Sandra called as she shook her mother. “Wake up.”
Lucy’s eyes flashed open and she bolted straight up in her bed. “What?” she asked holding her hand to her stomach.
“You were crying and screaming. You woke me up. Are you ok?”
Lucy turned to her young, fair-skinned daughter. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. It was just a bad dream.” She pulled Sandra into her lap relishing her warmth. Lucy felt so cold.
“You always have bad dreams.” Sandra said still wide-eyed with worry.
“I know baby.”
“Do you want me to sing to you like daddy used to do for me when I had a scary dream?” Sandra asked as she pushed her mother’s hair off of her eyes.
Lucy only nodded afraid she would cry.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know mommy how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away.” Sandra, with her sweet, high voice sang it again and again as Lucy cried in her daughter’s arms.
Lucy’s eyes were still a little red and puffy when she walked into the nurse’s office at the hospital. Her heart sank when she realized Doug wasn’t there and her frustration at knowing she wanted to see him made it that much harder to control the tears.
“Thank God Helen isn’t on my schedule today.” She said as she went over her duties, then retrieved her supplies. “Time to work and not think.”
Lucy cursed herself as her heart fluttered at the sound of her name on Doug’s lips. Pushing her cart of supplies to the left of room one o’ one, Lucy turned to face Doug. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth so she pressed her lips together in an effort to hide it.
“Good morning,” as always his face shone brilliantly causing the icicles on her heart to drip.
“Hey Doug,” the smile escaped.
“Are you ok?” He asked as he examined her eyes.
“Yes, just had a rough night.”
He wanted to send her home. Tell her to get rest. Mostly, he wanted to just hold her, but she was smiling at him, and it frazzled his thoughts.
He stared and Lucy demeaned herself for wishing his arms would encircle her. It’s just wrong! She thought.
“Did you need something?” She asked.
“Uh, yes, sorry. I needed to tell you something.” He paused. “Uh, oh yeah, patient one o’ one, um, Heath Deerborn,” he struggled to regain his composer. “He has been here three months, and I need to do a mental examination so his opium dosage has been reduced. He will be more alert, perhaps aggressive. The institution he came from had to heavily dose him because he was,” Doug paused wishing he could just tell her she couldn’t see Heath that day, but he knew she would bulk.
“He was what?”
“Sexually aggressive, he attacked one of their nurses. Anyway, I want one of the security officers in the cell with you.”
“Oh, ok.”
“If you don’t want-”
“No,” Lucy said quickly. “I can do it.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that. So Donald is coming now.” Just as he said it Donald came through the doors and headed down the hall. Watching Donald’s long, black night stick bang against his knee made Lucy rethink her decision to tend to Heath. Seeing the fear slightly change her features, Doug tried, once again to dissuade her, but to no avail. “I asked Donald to come even though he is ancient,” Doug said it loudly giving Donald a big teasing smile; “because I know you kinda like him.”
“Now, sixty ain’t ancient.” Donald replied with a smile. “And Lucy loves me even though I’m old.”
“That I do,” Lucy smiled broadly causing both Donald and Doug’s hearts to skip a beat.
After Heath was secured Lucy attempted to clean his cell. He watched her, his eyes slithering, gorging, making her feel soiled and used. Even with Donald standing two feet away tapping his weapon repeatedly against his palm Lucy felt vulnerable, and was dismayed to find it could become more uncomfortable. Heath spoke, like plague it filled every corner of the room.
“You are beautiful,” Heath breathed. “Has anyone ever told you how exquisitely lovely you are?”
Lucy tensed. The sound of Heaths voice was smooth, and sucked at her strength, it wriggled agilely like a parasitic creature to embed and feed.
“I could give you such pleasure.”
“Now there ain’t no reason to talk to Miss Lucy in that manner!” Donald ordered as he stepped toward Heath.
Heath continued to stare at Lucy. “Mmm,” he sucked air in, “you smell of Lavender and peaches, so much woman.”
Donald hit Heath in the arm with some force. “I said you ain’t to speak to Miss Lucy!”
“I love to see the flush beneath your cheeks as I think of running my hands along your soft skin,” Heath said not even sparing Donald and his night stick a glance. Even after Donald hit him again, knocking him to the floor his eyes drilled into Lucy.
“No,” Lucy called getting up and stopping Donald before he hit Heath again. “He is going to talk wither you hit him or not and Doug can’t examine him if you beat him to a pulp. I can handle it.”
“Are you sure Miss Lucy?” Donald asked, and Lucy smiled at the care and concern she saw in her old hazel friends eyes.
“I am.”
“You ignore me now, but once I show you you’ll be begging me for more.” Heath said sitting up. His russet hair fell across his face and his chocolate eyes burned with desire. Blood dripped from his full angled lips and his strait small nose staining his white strait jacket.
Lucy imagined he had been very attractive once, and from the sound of his voice she figured he had probably been very skilled at getting whatever woman he wanted.
“You could be like my first, Camilla. Yes, Camilla screamed for me to stop, but after I took her she only begged for more.” Lucy scowled at him. She doubted he was referring to the time he lost his virginity, and she doubted the woman he referred to ever agreed to do anything with him. “I’m wealthy,” he continued, “connected, a business owner, I could give you a job. Camilla worked for me, she was my secretary.”
Lucy turned back focusing on her task. Just ignore him!
“Let me tell you about that night,” he said with a wicked smile. “I know it will arouse and impress you.”
As he began to rehash the event he spoke of Lucy damned her vivid imagination.
*****
For weeks Heath wooed her, flowers, chocolates, bonuses, but still she remained professional. As he sat at his desk he watched her through the glass separating his office from her secretarial station. Heath Deerborn was an attractive, wealthy and powerful man, and not getting the object of his desires was a new and infuriating experience.
God I want that women! He though as his eyes traveled the length of her sharp chin, full red lips, sexy dainty nose, and deep blue eyes that he wanted to drown in. And I shall have her.
“Camilla,” he called.
“Yes Mr. Deerborn?” She answered stepping into his office on her long, shapely legs that he could not take his eyes off of.
“Could you close the blind and the door so I can dictate a letter?” He asked as he watched the way her high wasted suit rubbed against her full butt as she moved.
“Right away Mr. Deerborn.”
“Come here.” He called after she finished. Direct, he thought. I just need to be more direct. She stepped in front of his desk with a pad of paper and a pen. “Come around here,” he indicated to the side of his chair and turned that direction. Hesitantly, she moved to the corner of the desk. “Closer,” he said softly rising from his chair. She swallowed hard and took one small step.
“Mr. Deerborn,” Camilla said as he took her left hand into his.
“Heath, call me Heath.”
“Mr. Deerborn I’m married. I don’t think-”
“So am I,” Heath said cupping her cheek in his right hand. “What of it. I want you, and I always get what I want.”
He was smiling as he moved his lips to hers. Anger flashed in his eyes as she jerked away.
“I’m sorry sir! This is not appropriate!” Camilla blurted and stormed from his office.
Eyes on fire, he slammed his fist against his desk. Never in his life had he felt such rage. Never in his life had he been denied something he truly wanted. Well, he though, we will see about that!
As he drove along the well-lit streets of Kansas City he deliberated. I should just call Jane or Mary or Amelia, he thought. They all realize what an honor it is to be with a man like me! Hmm, I could call one of those whores from the gentleman’s club, for the right price they let me hit them and dominate then. He grew hard just thinking of it. How dare her! How dare she brush me off! The more he thought of it the angrier he became. I should have fired her right then and there! After everything I have done for her, given her! She probably went immediately to gossip to all her white trash friends, to laugh! The fury mounted displacing reason. Didn’t she say that her husband was off in Nevada working on one of Hoovers ridiculous projects? I could drop by to apologize. He thought with a wicked smile. As the car turned left, the peaceful air of late fall was left smudged and dirty, a dark trail lingering.
Straightening his jet black tie, Heath reached for the knocker on the door of the small, white house. White trash, he thought again as he compared her small neat house with his mansion outside of town.
“Mr. Dearborn!” Camilla gasped as she opened the door.
“Camilla,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to, needed to come by and apologize for my behavior earlier. It was deplorable! Can you ever forgive me? I swear if you would continue to work for me it wouldn’t happen again.”
“I’m not fired?”
“No, god no!” He said almost even convincing himself. “That was my fault this morning. You’re just so lovely that I lost my head.” He said as he realized that he was standing directly under the porch light. “May I come in?” Anger blazed inside him when she hesitated. “There’s quit a chill in the night.” He said with a smile as he wrapped his arms around himself.”
“Sure, um, yeah.” Camilla swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat as she pulled open the door.
“Mmm, it smells wonderful.” Heath said and beamed a charming smile. Despite the warning that rang in the back of her mind she responded to his magnetism. “What is that? Pot Roast? I’d love to join you.”
“Oh, well, it’s not much, just leftovers, nothing special.”
“I don’t mind.”
Camilla swallowed hard. “Mr. Deerborn,” she said firmly. “I will see you at work tomorrow now that we have this misunderstanding under control.”
“Yes, of course.” He said through tight lips.
Camille moved around him toward the door, her long blond hair hanging in loose waves past her shoulders. He reached and wrapped his hands around her hair. With one violent tug, he pulled her off her feet and quickly dragged her down the hall and into the kitchen. She struggled to stand, to run. He threw hard against the floor, and she choked for breath. A second later he was on top of her. Once, twice, again he hit her across the face, setting her ears to ringing, her head to spinning. Camilla could feel the soft skin on her face bruising under his heavy hand that muffled her screams. Heath’s eyes burned, firing scorching arrows into her soul.
Ripping and tearing warned her of what was to come. Her tight suit couldn’t just be hoisted and she thanked fate for any extra time it bought her. Blood dripped from her nails as she swung wildly at him. Grunts and groan escaped his lips as her knee cam up between his legs, but she was dismayed to see the pain was only more arousing.
Camilla fought. She wondered for a moment why he didn’t simply knock her out to make things easier, but then she realized it was what he wanted. Tears poured from her eyes. Somehow she knew if she could stop struggling it would piss him off, take some of the pleasure. Camilla couldn’t stop. Good, bad, it didn’t matter, she had to fight.
Crying out she felt blood start to flow from her breast. Heath drank at it. Clawed at it. Laughing, nearly singing, he tore away her blouse.
“Never before,” he said staring into her eyes. “Never have I felt such pleasure.” He laughed it out triumphantly.
When he reached between her legs she kicked hard, her knee catching his chin staggering him back. Anger danced with arousal as he back-handed her across the face. Her eyes went black ,and for a moment she wanted to sink into oblivion. NO! She thought. Not without a fight!
Lucy couldn’t take it any more. “Stop!” She screamed at Heath. Her teeth ground together when she realized she had just given him the reaction he had wanted. A fury she didn’t quit understand stood up inside her. The smug look on Heaths face faltered slightly as she marched toward him. Donald smiled as Lucy jerked the club from his belt and let loose a vicious swing. His jaw made a lovely cracking sound and he fell unconscious to the floor.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
C.J. Irwin's World of Dark Fiction: James Irwin/Mary Waters and Halfway to Mexico Review
C.J. Irwin's World of Dark Fiction: James Irwin/Mary Waters and Halfway to Mexico Review
http://www.vomeo.com/16372834
http://www.vimeo.com/16380612
http://www.vomeo.com/16372834
http://www.vimeo.com/16380612
James Irwin/Mary Waters and Halfway to Mexico Review
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Heart Eaters - Part Five - Helen
(Please note: This post contains graphic violence that some may consider offensive.)
Heart Eaters
Chapter Three
Part Five
Helen
The three days off that Doug had insisted Lucy take had been misery. The only thing that kept Lucy sane was not having time to think. Too much time to wonder, to dream of Robert, and Lucy knew she would end up in a padded cell alongside the helpless souls she cared for. Violet, Sandra and Bobby were her life vest in the raging, stormy sea she was trying to survive. Extravagant meals in the evening with custard and fresh raisin bread pleased Lucy’s precious children, and helped her to busy herself while the children were in school. She doted on them, playing games, making treats, even taking them out to the local dinner one evening, she needed them so she wouldn’t remember. However, the prospect of not being alone in the house cleaning all day trying not to wonder where her love might be laying, pondering the many places his bones might be scattered was calming as she prepared to go the hospital.
White, like the color of early morning mist and soft as rose petals, Lucy wrapped the scarf around the dark purple marks on her neck. Parts of the bruise had started to turn the sickly yellow of healing, and she was thankful for it.
It was Monday, another week without him, Lucy thought as she gathered her things to care for her patients. For Christ’s sake Doug! Lucy thought as she went over her rounds for the day. Only one patient from the C.I. Wing, I can cover my own responsibilities! No reason to push my patients onto other nurses because I was careless.
“Good morning Luce,” Doug called enthusiastically.
The cheerfulness in his voice irritated her as she spun to face him. “What right have you to change my schedule!”
“Whoa, whoa, Lucy, I was simply worried for you and I, as your supervisor, have every right to organize the nurses as I see fit.”
“Ok, I understand that I was careless, but that is no reason to make the other girls carry my weight!”
Sighing, Doug shook his head. “I was trying to help you. You know it might do you some good to let somebody behind that wall of yours from time to time. The other Nurses wanted to help anyway. They were all more than willing.”
“Great! So now I’m a charity case! I don’t need your help or anyone else’s! What I need it to be able to come to work and not be coddled.” Lucy put her hands on her temples and breathed deeply. Doug said nothing. You’re being ridiculous! Lucy thought to herself. He is, after all, only trying to help. As if to remind her of her need for help the white scarf slid of her shoulder.“I’m sorry. I, mm,” Lucy grunted looking up at him. His forest green eyes were deep and troubled, not angry as she had expected. If Zeus could have been hurt that’s what he would have looked like, Lucy though examining his staggered, chiseled face and tense, muscled form. Along his jaw line, down his pristine white jacket that did nothing to hide his tone and robust shape, her thirsty eyes traveled. Jolting at the realization she wanted to see his eyes sparkle as they usually did when he greeted her, Lucy’s face hardened again. “I appreciate your concern but it’s not needed.” Lucy gathered her things and stormed past him.
“Lucy,” Doug entreated.
“I have work to do,” she called over her shoulder.
Doug cursed and walked into the break room. Running his hand though his dark hair, he shook his head wishing he could see that look of interest, of want on her gorgeous face again. It had only been a glimpse, but he knew he hadn’t imagined it.
Shame, anger, disloyalty bloomed and danced hideously inside her as Lucy hurried down the hall. It had been over a year since she had felt any stirring, any desire for anyone and it rubbed her insides raw that she had. Not knowing what had come over her, Lucy begged Robert for a forgiveness he could not give.
Needing to work, Lucy pushed her feelings to the back of her mind alongside so many others she could not, or would not deal with. The thought of Doug’s tortured eyes didn’t resurface until she made her way to her only C.I. patient.
Before Lucy had completely slide the small window open on cell one o’ seven, she heard the prayers, smelled the blood, it made her stomach turn. Sato masochism, that’s what she remembered reading about her patient, Helen Christenson and also reading something about a self-inflicted stigmata. That’s what Lucy expected to see when she entered. That was always the way with Helen, cutting or hitting her head with whatever she could find to inflict damage, biting her wrists, digging holes in her feet with her nails, breaking her skin and ribs by throwing herself against her bed to try to recreate Christ wounds. That was until they removed her bed to save her rib cage.
Blood crusted under Helen’s finger nails and flaked, falling dry and sour from her hands as she pressed them together in prayer. “Forgive me father for I have sinned. I have no confessor, and unable to stand before our Holy Mother and ask her forgiveness for my wickedness. Please preserve their souls, keep them from the fires of Hell. Forgive them their sinful deeds.”
Lucy couldn’t help the revulsion that rose like bile in her throat. She knew who Helen prayed for; she knew what sins she begged forgiveness for. “Focus on your job.” Lucy said to herself as she called out. “Helen, Helen, please come to the door.”
Helen did not answer, and her prayers did not cease. “Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death. Amen.”
“Helen, please come to the door,” Lucy reiterated calmly
“Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from Christ’s side, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesus, hear me. Within Thy wounds hide me. Suffer me not to be separated from Thee. From the malicious enemy defend me. In the hour of my death call me; And bid me come unto Thee, that I may praise Thee with Thy saints and with Thy angels. Forever and ever, Amen.”
Lucy huffed. “I hate having to do this,” she whispered then called through the hole. “Helen if you don’t do what is asked of you, we won’t allow you to see Father Cohan this month.”
Lucy cringed when Helen’s prayers came to an abrupt halt. Her hands, bruised and bloody thrust through the hole.
Lucy began methodically wiping the crusted blood from the floor and chaffed inside as Helen began to pray. It was like, Lucy thought, a pair of dirty hands desecrating a holy relic.
From the day Helen had been admitted and Lucy had read the police reports given to the hospital a war had ragged inside her; pity for a young girl who would never lead a normal life and revulsion for someone who could do something so horrific in the name of God. The simplicity of her chore allowed her mind to wander back, imagining how it must have happened based on the information from the reports she had read.
*****
November 21, 1944
The gasoline vapors burned Helen’s nose as it gurgled out of the red, spouted, metal can, and sloshed on her conservative, black shoes as it dripped of the plush, floral, king size bedspread. Satisfied that the bed was thoroughly soaked, Helen set the nearly empty can on the carpet. She prayed under her breath as she reached up to assure herself that the steel cables were tight around their wrists and ankles and secured to the wrought iron bedpost.
“Dear God save their evil souls,” Helen prayed as they breathed heavily in their drug induced slumber. “Holy Father save their souls from Hells damnation. Dear Jesus forgive them for their wicked acts knowing that after this night they will sin no more.”
Over and over she prayed the simple prayer as she sat in the rocking chair next to the bed. She prayed as she waited. It shouldn’t be too long now, she reasoned. I gave them the pills six hours ago. They should wake soon so I can tell them I love them before I save their souls.
Helen turned at a moan from the bed.
“Helen, Helen, what is going on?”
“Relax Daddy,” Helen said softly. “Don’t struggle. I don’t want you to cut your wrists on the wire.”
“What the Hell is this,” Helen’s father said jerking against the bed. “Untie us now! Is that gas I smell? What in the Hell Helen!”
“Daddy you shouldn’t curse. It’s a sin. Don’t you see I’m saving your soul?” Her voice was deceptively calm.
“What are you going to do? What do you mean saving our souls! Honey, please untie your mother and I and we can talk.” His chest started to heave quickly.
“No daddy it’s too late. I saw what you did, with the Susan Flyn.” Helen said as she moved to the side of the bed.
“Helen, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her father said, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Dad, I may only be sixteen, but I know what adultery is! I listened as you coupled with her, made her squeal unholy things. Susan will go to Hell, but daddy, I’m going to save you.”
“Yes, yes, I have sinned.” He blurted. “I repent. Please honey it was my sin not your mothers. Release her.”
“You don’t know do you?” Lucy waited, he did not answer. “Daniel Weber, you know you’re very best friend, has been bedding your wife longer than you’ve been bedding Susan.” Lucy smiled at the shock and pain on her father’s face. “How ridiculous!” Helen laughed. “You judge mother even when you’ve been doing the same thing.”
Dumbstruck he turned toward his wife, now awake, “Is it true?”
Not seeing any reason at that point to deny it she simply nodded as tears began to tumble from her eyes.
“I have been worried that you and mom had been drinking too much so I was watching you. I had been reporting back to Father Dexter.” Lucy said.
“What! The church had you spying on us!” Her father raged.
“It’s a good thing they did. Now you won’t go to Hell. Ask God for forgiveness before I say goodbye.”
“No, Helen, don’t do this. Baby, we love you please this is ridiculous! Let us go!” He begged as her mother blubbered.
“Repent daddy, repent!”
“Honey,” Helen’s mother mewed. “Please!”
“Helen, stop this!” He commanded.
“Repent mom, repent for your unholy acts. Repent before I save you from eternal damnation.”
Helen pulled a small, brown matchbox from her pocket.
“Oh God!” Her mother cried. “What are you doing? Please honey, we love you don’t do this.”
“Helen! No! Please!” Her father cried.
“Repent Daddy, repent!” Helen commanded.
“I repent! It won’t happen again! Please, please!”
“Repent mom, repent for letting that man inside you!” Helen almost begged.
“I repent baby. I repent.” She cried struggling against her bindings.
“Helen stop!” Her Father cried, his wrists bleeding against the wires. “No, no, please. We have loved you!” He screamed as she drew the match across the side of the box and it flamed to life.
“I love you to daddy,” she said as she threw the match.
The bed became an inferno.
“Helen!” Her parents screamed in unison as they were engulfed in fire. “Please! Helen! Please! No!”
She prayed as she watched them burn.
Heart Eaters
Chapter Three
Part Five
Helen
The three days off that Doug had insisted Lucy take had been misery. The only thing that kept Lucy sane was not having time to think. Too much time to wonder, to dream of Robert, and Lucy knew she would end up in a padded cell alongside the helpless souls she cared for. Violet, Sandra and Bobby were her life vest in the raging, stormy sea she was trying to survive. Extravagant meals in the evening with custard and fresh raisin bread pleased Lucy’s precious children, and helped her to busy herself while the children were in school. She doted on them, playing games, making treats, even taking them out to the local dinner one evening, she needed them so she wouldn’t remember. However, the prospect of not being alone in the house cleaning all day trying not to wonder where her love might be laying, pondering the many places his bones might be scattered was calming as she prepared to go the hospital.
White, like the color of early morning mist and soft as rose petals, Lucy wrapped the scarf around the dark purple marks on her neck. Parts of the bruise had started to turn the sickly yellow of healing, and she was thankful for it.
It was Monday, another week without him, Lucy thought as she gathered her things to care for her patients. For Christ’s sake Doug! Lucy thought as she went over her rounds for the day. Only one patient from the C.I. Wing, I can cover my own responsibilities! No reason to push my patients onto other nurses because I was careless.
“Good morning Luce,” Doug called enthusiastically.
The cheerfulness in his voice irritated her as she spun to face him. “What right have you to change my schedule!”
“Whoa, whoa, Lucy, I was simply worried for you and I, as your supervisor, have every right to organize the nurses as I see fit.”
“Ok, I understand that I was careless, but that is no reason to make the other girls carry my weight!”
Sighing, Doug shook his head. “I was trying to help you. You know it might do you some good to let somebody behind that wall of yours from time to time. The other Nurses wanted to help anyway. They were all more than willing.”
“Great! So now I’m a charity case! I don’t need your help or anyone else’s! What I need it to be able to come to work and not be coddled.” Lucy put her hands on her temples and breathed deeply. Doug said nothing. You’re being ridiculous! Lucy thought to herself. He is, after all, only trying to help. As if to remind her of her need for help the white scarf slid of her shoulder.“I’m sorry. I, mm,” Lucy grunted looking up at him. His forest green eyes were deep and troubled, not angry as she had expected. If Zeus could have been hurt that’s what he would have looked like, Lucy though examining his staggered, chiseled face and tense, muscled form. Along his jaw line, down his pristine white jacket that did nothing to hide his tone and robust shape, her thirsty eyes traveled. Jolting at the realization she wanted to see his eyes sparkle as they usually did when he greeted her, Lucy’s face hardened again. “I appreciate your concern but it’s not needed.” Lucy gathered her things and stormed past him.
“Lucy,” Doug entreated.
“I have work to do,” she called over her shoulder.
Doug cursed and walked into the break room. Running his hand though his dark hair, he shook his head wishing he could see that look of interest, of want on her gorgeous face again. It had only been a glimpse, but he knew he hadn’t imagined it.
Shame, anger, disloyalty bloomed and danced hideously inside her as Lucy hurried down the hall. It had been over a year since she had felt any stirring, any desire for anyone and it rubbed her insides raw that she had. Not knowing what had come over her, Lucy begged Robert for a forgiveness he could not give.
Needing to work, Lucy pushed her feelings to the back of her mind alongside so many others she could not, or would not deal with. The thought of Doug’s tortured eyes didn’t resurface until she made her way to her only C.I. patient.
Before Lucy had completely slide the small window open on cell one o’ seven, she heard the prayers, smelled the blood, it made her stomach turn. Sato masochism, that’s what she remembered reading about her patient, Helen Christenson and also reading something about a self-inflicted stigmata. That’s what Lucy expected to see when she entered. That was always the way with Helen, cutting or hitting her head with whatever she could find to inflict damage, biting her wrists, digging holes in her feet with her nails, breaking her skin and ribs by throwing herself against her bed to try to recreate Christ wounds. That was until they removed her bed to save her rib cage.
Blood crusted under Helen’s finger nails and flaked, falling dry and sour from her hands as she pressed them together in prayer. “Forgive me father for I have sinned. I have no confessor, and unable to stand before our Holy Mother and ask her forgiveness for my wickedness. Please preserve their souls, keep them from the fires of Hell. Forgive them their sinful deeds.”
Lucy couldn’t help the revulsion that rose like bile in her throat. She knew who Helen prayed for; she knew what sins she begged forgiveness for. “Focus on your job.” Lucy said to herself as she called out. “Helen, Helen, please come to the door.”
Helen did not answer, and her prayers did not cease. “Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death. Amen.”
“Helen, please come to the door,” Lucy reiterated calmly
“Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from Christ’s side, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesus, hear me. Within Thy wounds hide me. Suffer me not to be separated from Thee. From the malicious enemy defend me. In the hour of my death call me; And bid me come unto Thee, that I may praise Thee with Thy saints and with Thy angels. Forever and ever, Amen.”
Lucy huffed. “I hate having to do this,” she whispered then called through the hole. “Helen if you don’t do what is asked of you, we won’t allow you to see Father Cohan this month.”
Lucy cringed when Helen’s prayers came to an abrupt halt. Her hands, bruised and bloody thrust through the hole.
Lucy began methodically wiping the crusted blood from the floor and chaffed inside as Helen began to pray. It was like, Lucy thought, a pair of dirty hands desecrating a holy relic.
From the day Helen had been admitted and Lucy had read the police reports given to the hospital a war had ragged inside her; pity for a young girl who would never lead a normal life and revulsion for someone who could do something so horrific in the name of God. The simplicity of her chore allowed her mind to wander back, imagining how it must have happened based on the information from the reports she had read.
*****
November 21, 1944
The gasoline vapors burned Helen’s nose as it gurgled out of the red, spouted, metal can, and sloshed on her conservative, black shoes as it dripped of the plush, floral, king size bedspread. Satisfied that the bed was thoroughly soaked, Helen set the nearly empty can on the carpet. She prayed under her breath as she reached up to assure herself that the steel cables were tight around their wrists and ankles and secured to the wrought iron bedpost.
“Dear God save their evil souls,” Helen prayed as they breathed heavily in their drug induced slumber. “Holy Father save their souls from Hells damnation. Dear Jesus forgive them for their wicked acts knowing that after this night they will sin no more.”
Over and over she prayed the simple prayer as she sat in the rocking chair next to the bed. She prayed as she waited. It shouldn’t be too long now, she reasoned. I gave them the pills six hours ago. They should wake soon so I can tell them I love them before I save their souls.
Helen turned at a moan from the bed.
“Helen, Helen, what is going on?”
“Relax Daddy,” Helen said softly. “Don’t struggle. I don’t want you to cut your wrists on the wire.”
“What the Hell is this,” Helen’s father said jerking against the bed. “Untie us now! Is that gas I smell? What in the Hell Helen!”
“Daddy you shouldn’t curse. It’s a sin. Don’t you see I’m saving your soul?” Her voice was deceptively calm.
“What are you going to do? What do you mean saving our souls! Honey, please untie your mother and I and we can talk.” His chest started to heave quickly.
“No daddy it’s too late. I saw what you did, with the Susan Flyn.” Helen said as she moved to the side of the bed.
“Helen, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her father said, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Dad, I may only be sixteen, but I know what adultery is! I listened as you coupled with her, made her squeal unholy things. Susan will go to Hell, but daddy, I’m going to save you.”
“Yes, yes, I have sinned.” He blurted. “I repent. Please honey it was my sin not your mothers. Release her.”
“You don’t know do you?” Lucy waited, he did not answer. “Daniel Weber, you know you’re very best friend, has been bedding your wife longer than you’ve been bedding Susan.” Lucy smiled at the shock and pain on her father’s face. “How ridiculous!” Helen laughed. “You judge mother even when you’ve been doing the same thing.”
Dumbstruck he turned toward his wife, now awake, “Is it true?”
Not seeing any reason at that point to deny it she simply nodded as tears began to tumble from her eyes.
“I have been worried that you and mom had been drinking too much so I was watching you. I had been reporting back to Father Dexter.” Lucy said.
“What! The church had you spying on us!” Her father raged.
“It’s a good thing they did. Now you won’t go to Hell. Ask God for forgiveness before I say goodbye.”
“No, Helen, don’t do this. Baby, we love you please this is ridiculous! Let us go!” He begged as her mother blubbered.
“Repent daddy, repent!”
“Honey,” Helen’s mother mewed. “Please!”
“Helen, stop this!” He commanded.
“Repent mom, repent for your unholy acts. Repent before I save you from eternal damnation.”
Helen pulled a small, brown matchbox from her pocket.
“Oh God!” Her mother cried. “What are you doing? Please honey, we love you don’t do this.”
“Helen! No! Please!” Her father cried.
“Repent Daddy, repent!” Helen commanded.
“I repent! It won’t happen again! Please, please!”
“Repent mom, repent for letting that man inside you!” Helen almost begged.
“I repent baby. I repent.” She cried struggling against her bindings.
“Helen stop!” Her Father cried, his wrists bleeding against the wires. “No, no, please. We have loved you!” He screamed as she drew the match across the side of the box and it flamed to life.
“I love you to daddy,” she said as she threw the match.
The bed became an inferno.
“Helen!” Her parents screamed in unison as they were engulfed in fire. “Please! Helen! Please! No!”
She prayed as she watched them burn.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Heart Eaters - Part Two and Three - Benedict
Heart Eaters
Chapter Two
Benedict
Lucy smoothed her stiffly starched uniform as she walked down the white, sterile hall. Her mind rang with warning as she, once again, walked through the swinging doors clearly labeled, Criminally Insane Unit, Violent Offenders, Authorized Personal Only! Lucy walked on. Once more, she straightened her skirt, her cap, and swallowed hard. She didn’t want to admit that she was nervous, every day, every time she walked these halls. No, she wouldn’t admit, not to herself and especially not to Doug or any other the other staff, but her stomach turned at the knowing she truly was. Most of the patients were catatonic, lost in the throes of their own personal hells, hardly acknowledging the duties performed around or to them. It was the lucid ones, the coherent ones that frightened Lucy. Three especially, patient one ten, one o’ seven and one o’ one, all of which she was scheduled to care for that day.
“Benedict Galloway”, Lucy read the name at the top of the chart aloud as she pulled it from the bin next to room one hundred and ten. “Mr. Galloway?” she called after she opened the small, sliding window in the middle of the door. “Mr. Galloway?” she ventured again as she peered though the small hole wondering where he could be.
“Lucy!” Mr. Galloway burst jumping up from the floor.
Lucy jumped back two feet, sucking in a deep breath. Cursing herself for being so jumpy, she stepped back.
“Mr. Galloway you startled me.”
“Benedict, Benedict, call me Benedict.” He said through the opening.
Lucy smiled. Kind, she thought, his eyes look kind this morning. Lucy knew though how quickly that could change.
“Good morning Benedict, how are you?”
“Ok, well I’m doing swell. Well, maybe not swell, but ok, ok, ok.” He said as he pulled at the little hair he had left on his head. After rolling the gray, freshly plucked, hairs between his fingers for a moment, he let them fall to the floor with the hundreds of other deposed follicles.
“Could you put your hands though the opening?”Lucy requested as she lifted the small, silver chain hanging from and bolted to the door.
“You know this really isn’t necessary Lucy. I wouldn’t hurt you.” Benedict lamented as Lucy clasped the cuffs around his wrists.
“Yes, I know and I’m sorry. It’s hospital policy. I have to.” Lucy consoled, but was truly thankful for such precautions. “You’ve been picking at your arms again. The sores will never heal if you continue to reopen them.”
“I know I’m sorry” He said with a sheepish grin through the hole. “You’ll forgive me won’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll for give you.” Lucy answered as she slowly opened the door. Benedict walked with it and sat in front of the open door on a chair Lucy had pulled from across the hall. As he settled his hands in his lap Lucy cuffed his ankles with and apologetic smile.
“You’re so lovely,” he said looking down at her. “You remind me of my Ruby May.” Lucy cringed inside as he said the name. “Have I ever told you about her?”
“Yes you have.” Lucy said quickly hoping to dissuade any further talk of her, but Benedict continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Her hair was like the sun on a clear day, a gold that warmed the heart.” He smiled as his mind traveled to a different place, a different time. “Eyes like that clear sky, lips so soft, so full, every guy in my high school dreamed of them. We dreamed of her, and the way her cheeks lifted when she smiled, of the way her poodle skirt swayed when she walked. She was kind to me, though I wished she were more than kind. I never expected more. Why would I? Look at me!” He said with a harsh laugh gesturing to himself. “I wasn’t quite as ugly then as I am now, but I wasn’t a looker.”
“Oh, Benedict you’re too hard on yourself”, Lucy said as she busied herself cleaning his cell. It was time for its monthly deep clean so Lucy resigned herself to being there a while. Having heard parts of the story before, she sighed wishing she could be done more quickly.
“No, big ears that stick straight out, muddy colored hair and eyes, a big fat pug nose, no I had all those things then to. Being rich helped a little,” he went on. “I got to see her in school because her friends would ask me for money, and I would give it, just to see her. “The kindest boy ever”, that’s what she would call me. Though, my father didn’t approve.
“I envied those other boys, with their shiny, slicked hair and muscled shoulders. I tried, I tried to work out, to build muscle, but I couldn’t. I wished I had David Sallis’s body; he was captain of the football team. I wanted her to look at me like she looked at him. I wanted to see her smile when I caressed her hand the way he did. No, all I got was the sweet, pitying look. I had brains and money, but then it wasn’t enough. My want for her nearly killed me. Alone in my room at night with the smell of my release on me, I thought of only her. I was nothing to her, invisible. So, I focused on school, graduated a year early.” He said with a proud smile. “That, my father did like. He sent me off to Yale. That’s where he had gone. I wanted to go into public service; I loved politics, but Daddy,” he said scornfully, “would have no such thing. “Business management, that’s what you need.” Daddy said!
As Lucy swept Benedict began to rock back and forth in his chair. His cuffs ground horribly, metal on metal, in her ears as he wrung his hands. Doug says it’s good for him to talk about it, Lucy thought, but it only seems to upset him.
“With honors,” he said suddenly causing Lucy to jerk. “I graduated with honors. Four years I was gone, but I thought of her every day. I assumed she would be married by the time I got back, probably to that jerk David! So imagine my joy when I returned to find her unmarried. Not only was she unmarried and single but that asshole Sallis was pushing carts at the local grocer. Apparently, he got a little too frisky with one of the loose girls at school and ended up having to marry her and take care of his premarital conceived brat. The moron didn’t even finish high school! Of course Ruby May dumped him; wish I could have seen that.” He said with a wistful smile. “And it gets even better!” He said his eyes sparkling as he recalled. “Ruby was working as a teller at my bank! How perfect! It made the idea of running Daddy’s chain of Banks not so ghastly.
“Kansas Bank and Trust, I had never thought I would want to go to that office so badly. Just seeing her would have been enough for me, but a miracle occurred. One evening, I think it was in the spring, I discretely watched her as she closed up her till, cleaned her workstation and wrote her reports. I found I was always watching her. She was slow, taking her time, dawdeling I guess. I worried because it wasn’t like her to be lazy or sluggish. It was an opportunity, so I closed up my brief case, took a deep breath and went to her. I asked if she was well.”
Lucy could see him phase out, as if he was living the moment again as he spoke. Despite herself, Lucy imagined it as it must have been in his mind’s eye, lettering her mind wander to a place and time that was not her own.
“You’re so sweet to worry for me.” Ruby May said to Benedict with a smile. “I feel well in body, but I must admit I am troubled.”
“What troubles you?” Benedict asked wanting to reach out and take her in his arms.
“There was a robbery in town last Sunday.”
“Yes, I read about it in the paper. The O’Neil’s place wasn’t it?” He answered.
“Yes, anyway it’s silly, I’m being silly, but I’m quite frightened to walk home alone.” She said looking down at the floor then back into his eyes. Her gaze cut at his soul.
“No, you’re not silly at all. A lovely lady should be cautious. If you would like,” he stopped, stumbled, “um, if it would make you feel safer, I could escort you home.”
“Oh, would you? That would be so lovely. I mean, I hate to inconvenience you. Your house is in the other direction.”
His heart did somersaults inside his chest. “It would be my pleasure.” He struggled to make the words come out at a normal speed.
He tried to keep from staring at her as they walked out of the bank and on to the side walk. The light sent of roses and vanilla wafted off of her and soaked his head. The color of her light green dress shamed the bright green colors of spring, and the curve of her lips seemed to kiss the twilight breeze.
“So how was Yale?”
“Hm, what?” He said jerking from his thoughts.
“Yale? Did you like it? Was it exciting?”
“Oh, Yale, it was fine.”
“Only fine?” she asked turning toward him as they walked. “I would have loved to go to such a prestigious school. Sure would have beat Fort Scott Community college.”
“You did very well for yourself Ruby May,” he countered her disparaging tone. “You could be married to the bag boy at the grocery store.”
She looked at him for a second though narrow eyes, making him want to take back his snide comment, but then she smiled. “Your right,” she said with a little laugh. “How could I do all I want to do on a bag boys salary?”
Relief almost audibly spilled from his chest. “And what is it my dear that you want to do?”
“See the world,” she said lifting her face to the sky.
Smiling at the pleasure in her voice, he asked. “The Pyramids, The Great Wall of China, Europe, The Great Barrier Reef; which part?”
“All of it.” She said as they approached her front door.
“Well perhaps I can help you fulfill your dreams one day?” He said worrying it as too much.
She studied him for a moment then stood on her tip toes and softly kissed his cheek. “I think I would like that. Good night Mr. Galloway.”
“Benedict, call me Benedict.” He said as she walked into her house.
It became a habit; Him walking her home. It took him nearly a month to gather the courage to ask her to dinner, but one early summer evening when there walk was almost over he did.
“Ruby May?”
“Yes?”
“I know I’m not the best looking man at the bank, or even in town, but I wonder if you would humor me by letting me take you out?” He starred at the ground, and when he heard no response he feared the worst. Without a word, Ruby May put both her hands on his face, lifted it and laid her lips on his. It seemed like a blessed eternity of heaven to him. When she finally released he starred into her eyes, a pleasant kind of drowning. “Is that a yes?”
*****
Benedict’s silence brought Lucy back to the present. The room was spotless. As she carried her supplies out of the room her heart ached for the pain of the man in the chair. He loved her so deeply .Lucy thought with a painful understanding of the way love can eat your heart.
“It was too fast, too easy. I see that now.” Benedict said.
His voice was so calm, so normal. Lucy thought he almost sounded sane as she began to remove his clothes to bath him. Lucy said nothing and he continued.
“We got married three months later. I thought she loved me.” His voice cracked. “I thought she loved me.” He repeated as the tears came. “I thought she loved me!”
Lucy patted his shoulder as he blubbered. Comfort, how could she comfort when she had nothing; no compassion, only bitterness, no hope, only fear.
“I saw it coming, but I ignored it. I thought if I pretended it wasn’t happening it would go away!” He nearly spit the words, his tears stopping abruptly. “The smell of foreign cologne hung in the house at night, it made my nose and throat burn, and it seared my thoughts; thoughts of knowing I wasn’t enough, she was too good for me, someone else was making her cry out in pleasure. Happiness, that’s all I wanted for my Ruby so I let it go.” He rocked, hands wrapped tightly around his knees. “It got worse, harder to ignore. A pack of cigarettes under the edge of the bed, new lingerie in her dresser, hurried, hushed voices when I stepped through the front door followed by the click of a window, but still I feigned ignorance. I think Ruby May suspected I knew, and she tried to bring it up one evening at dinner.”
*****
“Benny,” Ruby May said as she speared a piece of steamed and buttered asparagus. “There is something I think we should discuss.”
“And what would that be?” Benedict asked trying not to let his voice convey the anger and fear he felt.
“Well,” she began, swallowing hard. “I know you heard the window today. You arrived home early from the bank, and I can’t see how you don’t know.” Ruby May’s face stayed glued to her barely touched food.
“I don’t know what you mean?” Benedict answered as he brutally cut at the steak on Ruby’s white and blue china.
“Benedict,” Ruby May whispered as her eyes glistened. “I know you know! You must. It’s wrong of me. I am horrible.” She cried bursting into tears. “I do not deserve your kindness. I should go. I can leave tomorrow.”
“What!” He said firmly, looking up from his mutilated steak. “Go! Your leaving me!”
“You deserve a good wife,” Ruby cried looking into his eyes.
“No,” he answered shaking his head. “I want you. Please, don’t go Ruby. I don’t care about the men, keep them. I don’t want to know, but I don’t care. I’d do anything to keep you.”
“You would? You don’t care?” Ruby said amazed. Could I have it all? She wondered.
“No I don’t. I just don’t wish to discuss it further.”
Ruby May stared as Benedict stood, gathered his dishes and after walking to the sink to dispose of them plopped onto the couch and opened his paper.
Ruby May endeavored to be discrete the first few months that followed, but as time passed and Benedict remained quiet she became careless. The brown leather belt on Ruby’s bed side stand pierced him like a thousand needles, the unmade bed at six in the evening hammered images of Ruby May naked under some unknown face and hard body into his brain like nails, the purple marks on her neck bruised his soul. They were like a chisel, chipping away at his insides.
He tried to find things to keep him late at the bank and drove home slowly, hating every inch of the road that carried him there. It wasn’t difficult to find the anger to slam the car doors good and loud as a warning; get out of my house you bastard, he would think. And as every other day Benedict assumed it would work. Dragging his feet he walked to his door, opened it and slammed it hard. He was surprised when he didn’t hear the window open and close. It was the Friday before Labor Day and the Bank had close early. Surely she knows it’s a holiday weekend, he thought. Should I go upstairs? She may not be here. At the foot of the maple wood staircase he stood, undecided.
Water falling against tile rang in his ears as he topped the steps. Then he heard her, heard him. Breathless high pitched female sounds chased by masculine grunts and rumblings. Bleeding inside, he listened. He had known for some time that she was finding pleasure with others, but knowing was not feeling and now he felt. He burned. Pain, and betrayal swung around in his mind like a battle ax, severing. Turn away, he thought. Walk away, don’t drive her away. Meet her needs where you can.
“Oh, oh David! I love you!” Ruby May cried as Benedict turned.
“David!” Benedict breathed. “The god damn grocery boy!”
Benedict ran for the stairs bounding, two, three at a time to the bottom. Away, he had to get away. He only got as far as the living room and halted. “All this time it was that prick!” He cursed, picking up the iron poker from beside the fire and tossing it into the flames. “He beat me.” He said as he paced. “The bastard beat me! Everything I have and he got what I really wanted! No!” He determined and stopped. “No!”
He turned to the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames, inside and out. His skin singed and burned as he wrapped it around the hilt of the iron poker. One word rang in his mind as he marched from the living room and up the stairs; NO! As he wrapped his hand around the door knob, he heard the water stop and Ruby Mays light laughter.
“Benedict!” She cried as the door stopped swinging. Looking from his crazed eyes to the red hot poker in his eyes she asked, “Benny, baby, what are you doing? Just calm down.” She said as she backed into a very shocked David Sallis, and he stepped in front of her.
“Benedict, I know you don’t want to hurt her.” The sound of David’s smooth voice and the sight of his muscled naked body severed the last connection Benedict Galloway had to sanity.
Blood dripping from his burnt hand, Benedict lifted the red hot, pointed iron bar and swung down with every ounce of strength he possessed. With a crack and a sick singeing sound Benedict buried the metal in David’s forehead, his body gave one violent jerk before it fell, spurting blood, to the floor. Without thought or hesitation, Benedict lifted his weapon again and dug it deeply into Ruby Mays blond crown. Her screams stopped abruptly, but he did not. Again and again he swung down in blind rage until nothing remained of her face.
*****
Lucy knelt in front of Benedict frozen in horror. As his mouth closed and he finished his story, a story Lucy had never fully heard, disgust and anger bloomed inside her. Benedict had always evoked pity and compassion in her, but as Lucy removed his ankle cuffs she doubted if she would ever feel that again. Greed and desire for love had eaten his heart and made him a mindless monster. Carelessly distracted Lucy dropped his ankle cuffs outside the door and was about to ask him to stand so she could close the door when he spoke again.
“Ruby May,” Benedict said blankly looking a Lucy. The name hit Lucy like a thousand frozen shards. “I loved you!” He screamed as he thrust toward her wrapping his cuffed hands around her neck.
“H-e-l-p,” Lucy tried to choke out, but it was a hushed smothered sound. She struggled, but something in her mind whispered; why not let it happen?
Doug threw himself against Benedict and they fell to the floor. Doug hit Benedict in the face a few times before he realized he wasn’t fight back, he had become a mindless, moaning heap of man. Lucy, coughed and sputtered as she crawled into the hall and watched as Doug slammed the door shut with Benedict still chained to it.
Still breathing heavily and fear for her paining his face, Doug knelt down and took Lucy in his arms. Too shocked to resist she allowed herself to be gathered up. The tumult in her mind made it difficult to not think of his purely masculine smell and the firmness of the arms that held her.
He pulled her back, looking to assure himself she was well and aside from the bruising already flowering under the sensitive skin of her neck he was satisfied. “Lucy what the hell happened? He damn near killed you!”
“Did you know? Did you know the whole of what he did?”
“Well, I think so. I read the police reports, but they were incomplete. He killed his wife… right?”
“The word “killed” does not do his crime justice,” she breathed as he helped her to her feet.
Chapter Two
Benedict
Lucy smoothed her stiffly starched uniform as she walked down the white, sterile hall. Her mind rang with warning as she, once again, walked through the swinging doors clearly labeled, Criminally Insane Unit, Violent Offenders, Authorized Personal Only! Lucy walked on. Once more, she straightened her skirt, her cap, and swallowed hard. She didn’t want to admit that she was nervous, every day, every time she walked these halls. No, she wouldn’t admit, not to herself and especially not to Doug or any other the other staff, but her stomach turned at the knowing she truly was. Most of the patients were catatonic, lost in the throes of their own personal hells, hardly acknowledging the duties performed around or to them. It was the lucid ones, the coherent ones that frightened Lucy. Three especially, patient one ten, one o’ seven and one o’ one, all of which she was scheduled to care for that day.
“Benedict Galloway”, Lucy read the name at the top of the chart aloud as she pulled it from the bin next to room one hundred and ten. “Mr. Galloway?” she called after she opened the small, sliding window in the middle of the door. “Mr. Galloway?” she ventured again as she peered though the small hole wondering where he could be.
“Lucy!” Mr. Galloway burst jumping up from the floor.
Lucy jumped back two feet, sucking in a deep breath. Cursing herself for being so jumpy, she stepped back.
“Mr. Galloway you startled me.”
“Benedict, Benedict, call me Benedict.” He said through the opening.
Lucy smiled. Kind, she thought, his eyes look kind this morning. Lucy knew though how quickly that could change.
“Good morning Benedict, how are you?”
“Ok, well I’m doing swell. Well, maybe not swell, but ok, ok, ok.” He said as he pulled at the little hair he had left on his head. After rolling the gray, freshly plucked, hairs between his fingers for a moment, he let them fall to the floor with the hundreds of other deposed follicles.
“Could you put your hands though the opening?”Lucy requested as she lifted the small, silver chain hanging from and bolted to the door.
“You know this really isn’t necessary Lucy. I wouldn’t hurt you.” Benedict lamented as Lucy clasped the cuffs around his wrists.
“Yes, I know and I’m sorry. It’s hospital policy. I have to.” Lucy consoled, but was truly thankful for such precautions. “You’ve been picking at your arms again. The sores will never heal if you continue to reopen them.”
“I know I’m sorry” He said with a sheepish grin through the hole. “You’ll forgive me won’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll for give you.” Lucy answered as she slowly opened the door. Benedict walked with it and sat in front of the open door on a chair Lucy had pulled from across the hall. As he settled his hands in his lap Lucy cuffed his ankles with and apologetic smile.
“You’re so lovely,” he said looking down at her. “You remind me of my Ruby May.” Lucy cringed inside as he said the name. “Have I ever told you about her?”
“Yes you have.” Lucy said quickly hoping to dissuade any further talk of her, but Benedict continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Her hair was like the sun on a clear day, a gold that warmed the heart.” He smiled as his mind traveled to a different place, a different time. “Eyes like that clear sky, lips so soft, so full, every guy in my high school dreamed of them. We dreamed of her, and the way her cheeks lifted when she smiled, of the way her poodle skirt swayed when she walked. She was kind to me, though I wished she were more than kind. I never expected more. Why would I? Look at me!” He said with a harsh laugh gesturing to himself. “I wasn’t quite as ugly then as I am now, but I wasn’t a looker.”
“Oh, Benedict you’re too hard on yourself”, Lucy said as she busied herself cleaning his cell. It was time for its monthly deep clean so Lucy resigned herself to being there a while. Having heard parts of the story before, she sighed wishing she could be done more quickly.
“No, big ears that stick straight out, muddy colored hair and eyes, a big fat pug nose, no I had all those things then to. Being rich helped a little,” he went on. “I got to see her in school because her friends would ask me for money, and I would give it, just to see her. “The kindest boy ever”, that’s what she would call me. Though, my father didn’t approve.
“I envied those other boys, with their shiny, slicked hair and muscled shoulders. I tried, I tried to work out, to build muscle, but I couldn’t. I wished I had David Sallis’s body; he was captain of the football team. I wanted her to look at me like she looked at him. I wanted to see her smile when I caressed her hand the way he did. No, all I got was the sweet, pitying look. I had brains and money, but then it wasn’t enough. My want for her nearly killed me. Alone in my room at night with the smell of my release on me, I thought of only her. I was nothing to her, invisible. So, I focused on school, graduated a year early.” He said with a proud smile. “That, my father did like. He sent me off to Yale. That’s where he had gone. I wanted to go into public service; I loved politics, but Daddy,” he said scornfully, “would have no such thing. “Business management, that’s what you need.” Daddy said!
As Lucy swept Benedict began to rock back and forth in his chair. His cuffs ground horribly, metal on metal, in her ears as he wrung his hands. Doug says it’s good for him to talk about it, Lucy thought, but it only seems to upset him.
“With honors,” he said suddenly causing Lucy to jerk. “I graduated with honors. Four years I was gone, but I thought of her every day. I assumed she would be married by the time I got back, probably to that jerk David! So imagine my joy when I returned to find her unmarried. Not only was she unmarried and single but that asshole Sallis was pushing carts at the local grocer. Apparently, he got a little too frisky with one of the loose girls at school and ended up having to marry her and take care of his premarital conceived brat. The moron didn’t even finish high school! Of course Ruby May dumped him; wish I could have seen that.” He said with a wistful smile. “And it gets even better!” He said his eyes sparkling as he recalled. “Ruby was working as a teller at my bank! How perfect! It made the idea of running Daddy’s chain of Banks not so ghastly.
“Kansas Bank and Trust, I had never thought I would want to go to that office so badly. Just seeing her would have been enough for me, but a miracle occurred. One evening, I think it was in the spring, I discretely watched her as she closed up her till, cleaned her workstation and wrote her reports. I found I was always watching her. She was slow, taking her time, dawdeling I guess. I worried because it wasn’t like her to be lazy or sluggish. It was an opportunity, so I closed up my brief case, took a deep breath and went to her. I asked if she was well.”
Lucy could see him phase out, as if he was living the moment again as he spoke. Despite herself, Lucy imagined it as it must have been in his mind’s eye, lettering her mind wander to a place and time that was not her own.
“You’re so sweet to worry for me.” Ruby May said to Benedict with a smile. “I feel well in body, but I must admit I am troubled.”
“What troubles you?” Benedict asked wanting to reach out and take her in his arms.
“There was a robbery in town last Sunday.”
“Yes, I read about it in the paper. The O’Neil’s place wasn’t it?” He answered.
“Yes, anyway it’s silly, I’m being silly, but I’m quite frightened to walk home alone.” She said looking down at the floor then back into his eyes. Her gaze cut at his soul.
“No, you’re not silly at all. A lovely lady should be cautious. If you would like,” he stopped, stumbled, “um, if it would make you feel safer, I could escort you home.”
“Oh, would you? That would be so lovely. I mean, I hate to inconvenience you. Your house is in the other direction.”
His heart did somersaults inside his chest. “It would be my pleasure.” He struggled to make the words come out at a normal speed.
He tried to keep from staring at her as they walked out of the bank and on to the side walk. The light sent of roses and vanilla wafted off of her and soaked his head. The color of her light green dress shamed the bright green colors of spring, and the curve of her lips seemed to kiss the twilight breeze.
“So how was Yale?”
“Hm, what?” He said jerking from his thoughts.
“Yale? Did you like it? Was it exciting?”
“Oh, Yale, it was fine.”
“Only fine?” she asked turning toward him as they walked. “I would have loved to go to such a prestigious school. Sure would have beat Fort Scott Community college.”
“You did very well for yourself Ruby May,” he countered her disparaging tone. “You could be married to the bag boy at the grocery store.”
She looked at him for a second though narrow eyes, making him want to take back his snide comment, but then she smiled. “Your right,” she said with a little laugh. “How could I do all I want to do on a bag boys salary?”
Relief almost audibly spilled from his chest. “And what is it my dear that you want to do?”
“See the world,” she said lifting her face to the sky.
Smiling at the pleasure in her voice, he asked. “The Pyramids, The Great Wall of China, Europe, The Great Barrier Reef; which part?”
“All of it.” She said as they approached her front door.
“Well perhaps I can help you fulfill your dreams one day?” He said worrying it as too much.
She studied him for a moment then stood on her tip toes and softly kissed his cheek. “I think I would like that. Good night Mr. Galloway.”
“Benedict, call me Benedict.” He said as she walked into her house.
It became a habit; Him walking her home. It took him nearly a month to gather the courage to ask her to dinner, but one early summer evening when there walk was almost over he did.
“Ruby May?”
“Yes?”
“I know I’m not the best looking man at the bank, or even in town, but I wonder if you would humor me by letting me take you out?” He starred at the ground, and when he heard no response he feared the worst. Without a word, Ruby May put both her hands on his face, lifted it and laid her lips on his. It seemed like a blessed eternity of heaven to him. When she finally released he starred into her eyes, a pleasant kind of drowning. “Is that a yes?”
*****
Benedict’s silence brought Lucy back to the present. The room was spotless. As she carried her supplies out of the room her heart ached for the pain of the man in the chair. He loved her so deeply .Lucy thought with a painful understanding of the way love can eat your heart.
“It was too fast, too easy. I see that now.” Benedict said.
His voice was so calm, so normal. Lucy thought he almost sounded sane as she began to remove his clothes to bath him. Lucy said nothing and he continued.
“We got married three months later. I thought she loved me.” His voice cracked. “I thought she loved me.” He repeated as the tears came. “I thought she loved me!”
Lucy patted his shoulder as he blubbered. Comfort, how could she comfort when she had nothing; no compassion, only bitterness, no hope, only fear.
“I saw it coming, but I ignored it. I thought if I pretended it wasn’t happening it would go away!” He nearly spit the words, his tears stopping abruptly. “The smell of foreign cologne hung in the house at night, it made my nose and throat burn, and it seared my thoughts; thoughts of knowing I wasn’t enough, she was too good for me, someone else was making her cry out in pleasure. Happiness, that’s all I wanted for my Ruby so I let it go.” He rocked, hands wrapped tightly around his knees. “It got worse, harder to ignore. A pack of cigarettes under the edge of the bed, new lingerie in her dresser, hurried, hushed voices when I stepped through the front door followed by the click of a window, but still I feigned ignorance. I think Ruby May suspected I knew, and she tried to bring it up one evening at dinner.”
*****
“Benny,” Ruby May said as she speared a piece of steamed and buttered asparagus. “There is something I think we should discuss.”
“And what would that be?” Benedict asked trying not to let his voice convey the anger and fear he felt.
“Well,” she began, swallowing hard. “I know you heard the window today. You arrived home early from the bank, and I can’t see how you don’t know.” Ruby May’s face stayed glued to her barely touched food.
“I don’t know what you mean?” Benedict answered as he brutally cut at the steak on Ruby’s white and blue china.
“Benedict,” Ruby May whispered as her eyes glistened. “I know you know! You must. It’s wrong of me. I am horrible.” She cried bursting into tears. “I do not deserve your kindness. I should go. I can leave tomorrow.”
“What!” He said firmly, looking up from his mutilated steak. “Go! Your leaving me!”
“You deserve a good wife,” Ruby cried looking into his eyes.
“No,” he answered shaking his head. “I want you. Please, don’t go Ruby. I don’t care about the men, keep them. I don’t want to know, but I don’t care. I’d do anything to keep you.”
“You would? You don’t care?” Ruby said amazed. Could I have it all? She wondered.
“No I don’t. I just don’t wish to discuss it further.”
Ruby May stared as Benedict stood, gathered his dishes and after walking to the sink to dispose of them plopped onto the couch and opened his paper.
Ruby May endeavored to be discrete the first few months that followed, but as time passed and Benedict remained quiet she became careless. The brown leather belt on Ruby’s bed side stand pierced him like a thousand needles, the unmade bed at six in the evening hammered images of Ruby May naked under some unknown face and hard body into his brain like nails, the purple marks on her neck bruised his soul. They were like a chisel, chipping away at his insides.
He tried to find things to keep him late at the bank and drove home slowly, hating every inch of the road that carried him there. It wasn’t difficult to find the anger to slam the car doors good and loud as a warning; get out of my house you bastard, he would think. And as every other day Benedict assumed it would work. Dragging his feet he walked to his door, opened it and slammed it hard. He was surprised when he didn’t hear the window open and close. It was the Friday before Labor Day and the Bank had close early. Surely she knows it’s a holiday weekend, he thought. Should I go upstairs? She may not be here. At the foot of the maple wood staircase he stood, undecided.
Water falling against tile rang in his ears as he topped the steps. Then he heard her, heard him. Breathless high pitched female sounds chased by masculine grunts and rumblings. Bleeding inside, he listened. He had known for some time that she was finding pleasure with others, but knowing was not feeling and now he felt. He burned. Pain, and betrayal swung around in his mind like a battle ax, severing. Turn away, he thought. Walk away, don’t drive her away. Meet her needs where you can.
“Oh, oh David! I love you!” Ruby May cried as Benedict turned.
“David!” Benedict breathed. “The god damn grocery boy!”
Benedict ran for the stairs bounding, two, three at a time to the bottom. Away, he had to get away. He only got as far as the living room and halted. “All this time it was that prick!” He cursed, picking up the iron poker from beside the fire and tossing it into the flames. “He beat me.” He said as he paced. “The bastard beat me! Everything I have and he got what I really wanted! No!” He determined and stopped. “No!”
He turned to the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames, inside and out. His skin singed and burned as he wrapped it around the hilt of the iron poker. One word rang in his mind as he marched from the living room and up the stairs; NO! As he wrapped his hand around the door knob, he heard the water stop and Ruby Mays light laughter.
“Benedict!” She cried as the door stopped swinging. Looking from his crazed eyes to the red hot poker in his eyes she asked, “Benny, baby, what are you doing? Just calm down.” She said as she backed into a very shocked David Sallis, and he stepped in front of her.
“Benedict, I know you don’t want to hurt her.” The sound of David’s smooth voice and the sight of his muscled naked body severed the last connection Benedict Galloway had to sanity.
Blood dripping from his burnt hand, Benedict lifted the red hot, pointed iron bar and swung down with every ounce of strength he possessed. With a crack and a sick singeing sound Benedict buried the metal in David’s forehead, his body gave one violent jerk before it fell, spurting blood, to the floor. Without thought or hesitation, Benedict lifted his weapon again and dug it deeply into Ruby Mays blond crown. Her screams stopped abruptly, but he did not. Again and again he swung down in blind rage until nothing remained of her face.
*****
Lucy knelt in front of Benedict frozen in horror. As his mouth closed and he finished his story, a story Lucy had never fully heard, disgust and anger bloomed inside her. Benedict had always evoked pity and compassion in her, but as Lucy removed his ankle cuffs she doubted if she would ever feel that again. Greed and desire for love had eaten his heart and made him a mindless monster. Carelessly distracted Lucy dropped his ankle cuffs outside the door and was about to ask him to stand so she could close the door when he spoke again.
“Ruby May,” Benedict said blankly looking a Lucy. The name hit Lucy like a thousand frozen shards. “I loved you!” He screamed as he thrust toward her wrapping his cuffed hands around her neck.
“H-e-l-p,” Lucy tried to choke out, but it was a hushed smothered sound. She struggled, but something in her mind whispered; why not let it happen?
Doug threw himself against Benedict and they fell to the floor. Doug hit Benedict in the face a few times before he realized he wasn’t fight back, he had become a mindless, moaning heap of man. Lucy, coughed and sputtered as she crawled into the hall and watched as Doug slammed the door shut with Benedict still chained to it.
Still breathing heavily and fear for her paining his face, Doug knelt down and took Lucy in his arms. Too shocked to resist she allowed herself to be gathered up. The tumult in her mind made it difficult to not think of his purely masculine smell and the firmness of the arms that held her.
He pulled her back, looking to assure himself she was well and aside from the bruising already flowering under the sensitive skin of her neck he was satisfied. “Lucy what the hell happened? He damn near killed you!”
“Did you know? Did you know the whole of what he did?”
“Well, I think so. I read the police reports, but they were incomplete. He killed his wife… right?”
“The word “killed” does not do his crime justice,” she breathed as he helped her to her feet.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Heart Eaters - The Begining -
Heart Eaters
Kansas 1945
The bright, early morning sun streamed in the spotless window. Lucy opened her deep blue eyes and heaved a sigh. There had been a time when she thought sleep would help her escape the pain, but she quickly found it only served to intensify her agony.
Lucy thought over her day and the things she needed to accomplish, but she did not move. All she wanted was to die. Her eyes bore holes in the bottle on her bedside stand. It was always there, sleeping pills. It was shortly after she heard the news that the drug had made a home there. It would be so easy, Lucy thought. The doctor had warned her that an overdose could be fatal, permanent sleep. That’s what she really wanted, permanent sleep. No not sleep! She thought. She couldn’t handle dreaming of him forever; dreaming of all the ways he could have died. Fresh images from her sleep danced through her mind, Robert dead, cold, rigid. He had been so proud of his new issue, dark olive, drab M-1935 uniform, but now thoughts of it stained with the blood of other soldiers he had saved harassed Lucy, the image was like being stabbed. Imagining, his standard issue metal helmet fallen to his side caused her first tears of the day. She knew they would come. Lucy didn’t fight the ach anymore.
Maybe he was shot in the head, she thought, imagining the bullet soaring through the air and piercing his brain. Maybe it was a mortar that cast his parts all over the bank of the Rhine River. Maybe dysentery while in one of those vile German prison camps. Lucy imagined his frail, emaciated body succumbing to the demon disease. She lifted his picture from the bedside stand. When they had gotten married he had worn his Military uniform and she had liked it then. His olive, thigh length jacket pulled together around the waist had been most appealing. His two silver bars boasting proudly his position as Captain, had filled Lucy with pride but no longer. Now every time she lifted his picture to her breast all she could remember about him was the day he had left and the day the army had showed up at the door.
“Good morning Mrs. Hale,” the young army courier had greeted. Lucy swallowed hard, all blood draining from her face. She could tell the young man struggled to remain smiling, but that is what he had been trained to do. She did not respond. “Mrs. Hale,” he ventured again gently.
“Mm,” Lucy cleared her throat. “What can I do for you sir?”
“I come on behalf of the U.S. government to inform you that your husband Captain Robert Hale has been declared MIA.”
“What!” Lucy blurted. “Missing in action, for how long? He is not dead? Where was he last seen?”
“Mam, Captain Hale and his team were sent on a reconnaissance mission for Operation Market Garden. We found his entire team dead, except him and one other man two days after their departure. That was two months ago to the day.”
“So there is hope?” Lucy asked softly.
“There is Mrs. Hale, but I am required to inform you that the chances he is still alive are minute.”
Lucy snapped from the memory, her mind racing the ten months from then to now and reached for the bottle of pills. “Why not?” she asked aloud. Then noise from the kitchen reminded her.
Knock, knock, knock, came at her door. The door squeaked as Violet pushed it open. “Mother,” Violet said softly.
Kansas 1945
The bright, early morning sun streamed in the spotless window. Lucy opened her deep blue eyes and heaved a sigh. There had been a time when she thought sleep would help her escape the pain, but she quickly found it only served to intensify her agony.
Lucy thought over her day and the things she needed to accomplish, but she did not move. All she wanted was to die. Her eyes bore holes in the bottle on her bedside stand. It was always there, sleeping pills. It was shortly after she heard the news that the drug had made a home there. It would be so easy, Lucy thought. The doctor had warned her that an overdose could be fatal, permanent sleep. That’s what she really wanted, permanent sleep. No not sleep! She thought. She couldn’t handle dreaming of him forever; dreaming of all the ways he could have died. Fresh images from her sleep danced through her mind, Robert dead, cold, rigid. He had been so proud of his new issue, dark olive, drab M-1935 uniform, but now thoughts of it stained with the blood of other soldiers he had saved harassed Lucy, the image was like being stabbed. Imagining, his standard issue metal helmet fallen to his side caused her first tears of the day. She knew they would come. Lucy didn’t fight the ach anymore.
Maybe he was shot in the head, she thought, imagining the bullet soaring through the air and piercing his brain. Maybe it was a mortar that cast his parts all over the bank of the Rhine River. Maybe dysentery while in one of those vile German prison camps. Lucy imagined his frail, emaciated body succumbing to the demon disease. She lifted his picture from the bedside stand. When they had gotten married he had worn his Military uniform and she had liked it then. His olive, thigh length jacket pulled together around the waist had been most appealing. His two silver bars boasting proudly his position as Captain, had filled Lucy with pride but no longer. Now every time she lifted his picture to her breast all she could remember about him was the day he had left and the day the army had showed up at the door.
“Good morning Mrs. Hale,” the young army courier had greeted. Lucy swallowed hard, all blood draining from her face. She could tell the young man struggled to remain smiling, but that is what he had been trained to do. She did not respond. “Mrs. Hale,” he ventured again gently.
“Mm,” Lucy cleared her throat. “What can I do for you sir?”
“I come on behalf of the U.S. government to inform you that your husband Captain Robert Hale has been declared MIA.”
“What!” Lucy blurted. “Missing in action, for how long? He is not dead? Where was he last seen?”
“Mam, Captain Hale and his team were sent on a reconnaissance mission for Operation Market Garden. We found his entire team dead, except him and one other man two days after their departure. That was two months ago to the day.”
“So there is hope?” Lucy asked softly.
“There is Mrs. Hale, but I am required to inform you that the chances he is still alive are minute.”
Lucy snapped from the memory, her mind racing the ten months from then to now and reached for the bottle of pills. “Why not?” she asked aloud. Then noise from the kitchen reminded her.
Knock, knock, knock, came at her door. The door squeaked as Violet pushed it open. “Mother,” Violet said softly.
Heart Eaters - Part Two -
“Yes, dear?” Lucy answered trying half-heartedly to conceal the drugs in her hand.
“I fed Bobby and Sandra and dressed Bobby for church, but Sandy won’t listen to me and get ready.”
“Oh Violet,” Lucy breathed as more tears came. “You are so wonderful.” She wiped at her eyes.
Violet walked noiselessly to her mother’s bed. “Momma,” she said sitting beside Lucy. “He will come back to us. I just know.”
“How, how do you know my sweet girl?” Lucy said forcing a smile.
“Jesus loves him and loves us.” Violet said matter-of-factly.
Lucy just smiled at her daughter. “You are much older and wiser than your ten years. I’m sorry you have to carry so much my sweetheart.”
“It’s ok mom. Will you be coming to church with grandma and us?” Violet asked hopefully.
“No,” Lucy said standing then heading for her closet and pulling out her nurses uniform. “The Hospital needs me to come in.”
“Momma,” Violet started meekly. “I know you have to work with, with,” she stuttered not wanting to say his name, “father being gone, but seven days a week. Do we really need that much?”
“Um,” Lucy swallowed hard. She didn’t want to admit to her daughter that she was too angry with God to go to church. Abandoned, that’s how she felt. Alone, left to the devices of Hell, that’s what she experienced every minute. “Go tell Sandy to come talk to me.” She instructed, avoiding the question.
The children climbed into their grandmothers car. Violet loved the mint green exterior and white leather seats, it even had a radio, and Bobby smiled as he turned the shinny little knobs.
“Bobby,” his grandmother scolded. “Be gentle.” She turned from her six-year-old grandson with his adorable blond curls and sparkling chocolate eyes. “Are you sure you won’t come my dear?” She said brushing at her short grey curls.
“No I can’t mom,” Lucy said as she dug for change in the bottom of her purse. “I love you though. I have to go or I will miss the transit.”
“Alright sweetheart,” she said and climbed into her car telling Violet and Sandy how lovely they looked.
The cold metal bar was soothing, and Lucy leaned hard against it. How can I be so tired and my day so young? Lucy thought dismally. The transit bumped along one of the dirt roads of Fort Scott Kansas, toward the hospital. As Lucy ambled from the trolley her mind read the large forged letters on the iron gate, Fort Scott Hospital for the Mentally Insane. Every time Lucy arrived her brain subconsciously took in the name, as if trying to warn her, trying to caution her, but another part of Lucy’s brain fought against that self preservation.
“Good morning Miss Lucy!” A tall young man greeted as she entered the break room. Lucy did not reply. Doug heaved a sigh and ran his large, un-calloused hand through his thick raven hair. “How are your children?” He tried again walking closer his green eyes sparkling in his rounded, fair face.
Lucy dropped her bag in her locker and donned her pressed, white, nurses cap. Turning toward the smiling, virile man she took a deep breath thinking. He is a nice man. You only resent him because he was not drafted. “They are doing well Doug. How are you?” She said with a half smile.
“I am well,” he said smiling brilliantly. “But how are you?” He asked wanting to tell her to smile. God she is beautiful when she smiles, he thought. His eyes ran along the contours of her face; her delicate chin covered with soft, faultless skin, her full lips set in a perpetual frown, her dainty, pointed, nose, almost child-like, her large, oval-shaped eyes set in soft cheekbones, but circled with dark lines giving the deep chocolate color a desperate look that he wish he could ease.
“I’m fine,” she answered and walked to the schedule board.
“You know you don’t have to work the C. I. Wing every day.” Doug said disparagingly. “Every nurse is required to do shifts in the violent offenders area. You don’t have to do theirs for them.”
“I know,” Lucy said after signing in.
“It’s dangerous Lucy.” He said to her back.
“The other nurses don’t want to do it and I don’t mind. Plus it pays much better, and I need the money.” She said over her shoulder as she walked away.
Doug frowned. She works seven days a week how can she need the money? He thought.
“I fed Bobby and Sandra and dressed Bobby for church, but Sandy won’t listen to me and get ready.”
“Oh Violet,” Lucy breathed as more tears came. “You are so wonderful.” She wiped at her eyes.
Violet walked noiselessly to her mother’s bed. “Momma,” she said sitting beside Lucy. “He will come back to us. I just know.”
“How, how do you know my sweet girl?” Lucy said forcing a smile.
“Jesus loves him and loves us.” Violet said matter-of-factly.
Lucy just smiled at her daughter. “You are much older and wiser than your ten years. I’m sorry you have to carry so much my sweetheart.”
“It’s ok mom. Will you be coming to church with grandma and us?” Violet asked hopefully.
“No,” Lucy said standing then heading for her closet and pulling out her nurses uniform. “The Hospital needs me to come in.”
“Momma,” Violet started meekly. “I know you have to work with, with,” she stuttered not wanting to say his name, “father being gone, but seven days a week. Do we really need that much?”
“Um,” Lucy swallowed hard. She didn’t want to admit to her daughter that she was too angry with God to go to church. Abandoned, that’s how she felt. Alone, left to the devices of Hell, that’s what she experienced every minute. “Go tell Sandy to come talk to me.” She instructed, avoiding the question.
The children climbed into their grandmothers car. Violet loved the mint green exterior and white leather seats, it even had a radio, and Bobby smiled as he turned the shinny little knobs.
“Bobby,” his grandmother scolded. “Be gentle.” She turned from her six-year-old grandson with his adorable blond curls and sparkling chocolate eyes. “Are you sure you won’t come my dear?” She said brushing at her short grey curls.
“No I can’t mom,” Lucy said as she dug for change in the bottom of her purse. “I love you though. I have to go or I will miss the transit.”
“Alright sweetheart,” she said and climbed into her car telling Violet and Sandy how lovely they looked.
The cold metal bar was soothing, and Lucy leaned hard against it. How can I be so tired and my day so young? Lucy thought dismally. The transit bumped along one of the dirt roads of Fort Scott Kansas, toward the hospital. As Lucy ambled from the trolley her mind read the large forged letters on the iron gate, Fort Scott Hospital for the Mentally Insane. Every time Lucy arrived her brain subconsciously took in the name, as if trying to warn her, trying to caution her, but another part of Lucy’s brain fought against that self preservation.
“Good morning Miss Lucy!” A tall young man greeted as she entered the break room. Lucy did not reply. Doug heaved a sigh and ran his large, un-calloused hand through his thick raven hair. “How are your children?” He tried again walking closer his green eyes sparkling in his rounded, fair face.
Lucy dropped her bag in her locker and donned her pressed, white, nurses cap. Turning toward the smiling, virile man she took a deep breath thinking. He is a nice man. You only resent him because he was not drafted. “They are doing well Doug. How are you?” She said with a half smile.
“I am well,” he said smiling brilliantly. “But how are you?” He asked wanting to tell her to smile. God she is beautiful when she smiles, he thought. His eyes ran along the contours of her face; her delicate chin covered with soft, faultless skin, her full lips set in a perpetual frown, her dainty, pointed, nose, almost child-like, her large, oval-shaped eyes set in soft cheekbones, but circled with dark lines giving the deep chocolate color a desperate look that he wish he could ease.
“I’m fine,” she answered and walked to the schedule board.
“You know you don’t have to work the C. I. Wing every day.” Doug said disparagingly. “Every nurse is required to do shifts in the violent offenders area. You don’t have to do theirs for them.”
“I know,” Lucy said after signing in.
“It’s dangerous Lucy.” He said to her back.
“The other nurses don’t want to do it and I don’t mind. Plus it pays much better, and I need the money.” She said over her shoulder as she walked away.
Doug frowned. She works seven days a week how can she need the money? He thought.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
We Have Forgotten
Time Square
The dreams, I cannot escape them! Have you ever been afraid to sleep? I am. As soon as I close my eyes images of demons and human pain take the stage. Like a horrible, never-ending Broadway show, the vilest intricacies of human existence plague my sub-conscience. I love the spirit and the spirit loves me, but religion haunts my dreams; charred human flesh bound to burning crosses, human emotion crucified on the hill of religious conviction, the severing of the heads of those I love by the guillotine of forgetfulness and darkness, this is my lot in the night.
The heat of the coffee in my hands does little to dispel the cold left by my sleep. Looking out my seventh-story window at the cement, metal and glass of the city, I can feel the people that inhabited it, but I grow weary of their aching. I have enough trouble of my own why should I have to bear their pain as well?
Coat, hat, shoes the same as every other day. Grabbing the doorknob, I sighed.
“Why am I here?” I breathe aloud, but as every other day, I start my walk to the museum.
Stopping at the edge of Time Square I look around, it seems abnormally full of cars and people today.
I feel very cold, as I do when I dream. I can sense it, sense something, that same something I know I have been waiting for the whole of my existence. I can feel, intensely, the pain and emotion of the people who fill the square, betrayal, anger, sorrow, grief, but most of all loneliness, a feeling of utter disconnectedness. I shutter under the weight of the emotion and some small part of me cried out to the Maker I thought I did not know. Somehow, I knew this must come. I knew that my dreams must inevitably collide with my reality. I knew the dreams had been more than simple tremors in my sub-conscience and now my greatest fears were being realized!
A somehow familiar presence stood in the man at my side. It is easy to be next to him. Where had he come from? I do not know, and I guess I do not care, but for some reason the weight I had been feeling eased, so whoever he is I am pleased he is here.
“They all look so sad, so alone.” I said to the man at my side. I did not normally speak to strangers, and I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable speaking to this man. Without ever having seen his face, I felt as if I could tell him anything. He was silent, but I waited trusting he would answer.
“They have forgotten,” he said in a soft voice that eased the knots from my center, and made me warmer than I had been in months.
“Forgotten what?” I asked not wanting him to stop talking, but I turned and he had gone.
“Hmm,” I said looking around. I could have sworn there was just someone here.
Feeling that I may be crazy, I began to move when the signs bright red WALK lit up. A lovely blonde woman walked at my side. Her stiletto heels tapped against the pavement rhythmically as we moved. Her classy, black pencil suit made me feel frumpy, and her diamond earrings reminded me of the expense of living in this damn city.
Turning to me, she smiled and I went to return the kind gesture, but before the smile could spread across my face the skin at the corners of her light, pink, lips began to tear and bleed. Blood spread across her, now bare gums and teeth and the tearing continued. I gasped in horror as her perfect skin pulled away from her face, revealing bone and muscle. Her lovely body shriveled beneath the black, pencil suit and began to writhe. Laughing, it, she, the demon creature, turned to me and began to circle.
“They will never remember,” it screeched! “Never! Never!” it laughed, dancing hideously around me!
The dreams, I cannot escape them! Have you ever been afraid to sleep? I am. As soon as I close my eyes images of demons and human pain take the stage. Like a horrible, never-ending Broadway show, the vilest intricacies of human existence plague my sub-conscience. I love the spirit and the spirit loves me, but religion haunts my dreams; charred human flesh bound to burning crosses, human emotion crucified on the hill of religious conviction, the severing of the heads of those I love by the guillotine of forgetfulness and darkness, this is my lot in the night.
The heat of the coffee in my hands does little to dispel the cold left by my sleep. Looking out my seventh-story window at the cement, metal and glass of the city, I can feel the people that inhabited it, but I grow weary of their aching. I have enough trouble of my own why should I have to bear their pain as well?
Coat, hat, shoes the same as every other day. Grabbing the doorknob, I sighed.
“Why am I here?” I breathe aloud, but as every other day, I start my walk to the museum.
Stopping at the edge of Time Square I look around, it seems abnormally full of cars and people today.
I feel very cold, as I do when I dream. I can sense it, sense something, that same something I know I have been waiting for the whole of my existence. I can feel, intensely, the pain and emotion of the people who fill the square, betrayal, anger, sorrow, grief, but most of all loneliness, a feeling of utter disconnectedness. I shutter under the weight of the emotion and some small part of me cried out to the Maker I thought I did not know. Somehow, I knew this must come. I knew that my dreams must inevitably collide with my reality. I knew the dreams had been more than simple tremors in my sub-conscience and now my greatest fears were being realized!
A somehow familiar presence stood in the man at my side. It is easy to be next to him. Where had he come from? I do not know, and I guess I do not care, but for some reason the weight I had been feeling eased, so whoever he is I am pleased he is here.
“They all look so sad, so alone.” I said to the man at my side. I did not normally speak to strangers, and I didn’t know why I felt so comfortable speaking to this man. Without ever having seen his face, I felt as if I could tell him anything. He was silent, but I waited trusting he would answer.
“They have forgotten,” he said in a soft voice that eased the knots from my center, and made me warmer than I had been in months.
“Forgotten what?” I asked not wanting him to stop talking, but I turned and he had gone.
“Hmm,” I said looking around. I could have sworn there was just someone here.
Feeling that I may be crazy, I began to move when the signs bright red WALK lit up. A lovely blonde woman walked at my side. Her stiletto heels tapped against the pavement rhythmically as we moved. Her classy, black pencil suit made me feel frumpy, and her diamond earrings reminded me of the expense of living in this damn city.
Turning to me, she smiled and I went to return the kind gesture, but before the smile could spread across my face the skin at the corners of her light, pink, lips began to tear and bleed. Blood spread across her, now bare gums and teeth and the tearing continued. I gasped in horror as her perfect skin pulled away from her face, revealing bone and muscle. Her lovely body shriveled beneath the black, pencil suit and began to writhe. Laughing, it, she, the demon creature, turned to me and began to circle.
“They will never remember,” it screeched! “Never! Never!” it laughed, dancing hideously around me!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The Nightmare of a Memory--part one--
Fear wove intricate designs within the lovely sounds of Father Peter’s pleas to the Great One in that place between waking and sleeping. I wished to stay in the realm of the conscious, but had not the strength.
The vividness of my dreams always surprised, excited, but more often horrified me. While I still had control, I prayed with Father Peter, but then as I knew they would dreams became my reality.
The full moon shone brightly on the uneven ground as I walked along kicking small pebbles on the well used path. The warm night breeze caressed my heightened senses, and I realized that I was drunk. My hands tingled, my head felt light, and I smiled into the darkness at nothing. I was thinking of my Niklav, calloused hands blazing trails along my soft skin. The memory seemed so familiar. Of course it would, I thought. I think of my glorious lover all the time. It was more than that though.
Breathing deeply, I smiled at the smell of moist air and fish. There must be a lake nearby.
“No!” I breathed after I froze on the dirt path. “Please Great One not this place!”
I scanned the area instantly sober. A massive lodge cast menacing shadows too close to me. I heard people afar off, laughing, singing, and celebrating. Light green and brown, my dress hugged the ground, and my heart began to race as I looked it over. Aija, my sister, had made the dress for me. I had not seen it for years. Not since the night it was destroyed.
He lurked in the darkness, but I saw him. I turned. I ran. I could feel his breath on the nape of my neck, the tips of his toes on my heels. Franticly, I moved, stumbling in the darkness. My tears created puddles barring me.
The ground seemed unnaturally hard when I hit. I scratched and clawed trying to pull away from him, but I heard my dress tear as he yanked me toward him. I screamed for Niklav, but in my fear I had run far from his ears! I cried and screamed as Mikhail rolled me over. My nails dug into the skin on his face ripping it away and infuriating him. His fist hit hard and my eyes went black for a moment, ringing in my ears.
“No, please Mikhail!”
“I have waited so long for this,” Mikhail said the lust burning in his eyes.
“Mikhail, please,” I cried. Swinging my arms and kneeing him in the genitals earning another hard punch in the face. I tasted blood. Through blurry eyes, I watched as Mikhail’s eyes turned that glossy black I had grown to fear.
The blackness in his eyes made me angry not afraid, but the more I kicked and screamed the more excited Mikhail became. His eyes returned to their scummy green, and I actually wished for the blackness. The green of Mikhail’s eyes made me vomit. I hoped the chunks of food I had spewed on him would be a discouragement, but they were not.
The vividness of my dreams always surprised, excited, but more often horrified me. While I still had control, I prayed with Father Peter, but then as I knew they would dreams became my reality.
The full moon shone brightly on the uneven ground as I walked along kicking small pebbles on the well used path. The warm night breeze caressed my heightened senses, and I realized that I was drunk. My hands tingled, my head felt light, and I smiled into the darkness at nothing. I was thinking of my Niklav, calloused hands blazing trails along my soft skin. The memory seemed so familiar. Of course it would, I thought. I think of my glorious lover all the time. It was more than that though.
Breathing deeply, I smiled at the smell of moist air and fish. There must be a lake nearby.
“No!” I breathed after I froze on the dirt path. “Please Great One not this place!”
I scanned the area instantly sober. A massive lodge cast menacing shadows too close to me. I heard people afar off, laughing, singing, and celebrating. Light green and brown, my dress hugged the ground, and my heart began to race as I looked it over. Aija, my sister, had made the dress for me. I had not seen it for years. Not since the night it was destroyed.
He lurked in the darkness, but I saw him. I turned. I ran. I could feel his breath on the nape of my neck, the tips of his toes on my heels. Franticly, I moved, stumbling in the darkness. My tears created puddles barring me.
The ground seemed unnaturally hard when I hit. I scratched and clawed trying to pull away from him, but I heard my dress tear as he yanked me toward him. I screamed for Niklav, but in my fear I had run far from his ears! I cried and screamed as Mikhail rolled me over. My nails dug into the skin on his face ripping it away and infuriating him. His fist hit hard and my eyes went black for a moment, ringing in my ears.
“No, please Mikhail!”
“I have waited so long for this,” Mikhail said the lust burning in his eyes.
“Mikhail, please,” I cried. Swinging my arms and kneeing him in the genitals earning another hard punch in the face. I tasted blood. Through blurry eyes, I watched as Mikhail’s eyes turned that glossy black I had grown to fear.
The blackness in his eyes made me angry not afraid, but the more I kicked and screamed the more excited Mikhail became. His eyes returned to their scummy green, and I actually wished for the blackness. The green of Mikhail’s eyes made me vomit. I hoped the chunks of food I had spewed on him would be a discouragement, but they were not.
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