Authors: Steve Elliott
Chapter 20.
I spent that night in Maria’s bed. “No hanky-panky,” she wisely insisted. “Just sleep. Feel better in morning.” Neither of us bothered with pyjamas. Maria manoeuvred herself around to my back and pulled me against her warm, soft body. She twisted her head over my shoulder and kissed me. “You
sleep
,” she commanded. “Things always better after rest.”
“Your
mother
used to say that,” I murmured sleepily, secure in Maria’s arms, wrapped tightly around me. “You make me feel all young again.”
Maria chuckled, her breath warming my cheek. “You big outside, but still little girl inside,” she counselled me.
“
Big
?” I complained.
Maria chuckled again. “
Perfect
outside,” she amended, running one hand down to my stomach. “Me like very much. Lovely to touch.”
“That’s nice,” I replied, almost asleep. “You lovely too. I like touch also.”
“Me know,” Maria said, kissing my ear. “You show me already.” Her soft laugh was the last thing I remember.
I awoke the next morning, alone in the bed. Maria must have slipped out to do her chores and I hadn’t felt a thing, which was unusual for me since I was generally a light sleeper. That showed that I must have been in the
fourth
sleep cycle, I mused as I dressed, and that’s the deepest and most refreshing one where you don’t dream and barely move. I stretched luxuriously, feeling better than a hundred percent. My happiness was momentarily clouded when I recalled that Paul had gone. Blast him anyway.
Why
did he have to act like a prima donna? It certainly wasn’t
my
fault. Just because I wouldn’t listen to his advice about Maria, he didn’t have to storm off on a childish whim. No, it was entirely
his
fault. Who did he think he was anyway? I mean, granted that he’s looked out for me all his life and had been there every single time I needed a shoulder to cry on, but that didn’t give him the right to tell me how to live my life…….or
did
it? Unbidden, the memories of me weeping in his arms after each of my heartbreaks cascaded into my mind. I shooed them away, only to find them replaced by his smiling face as he gently soothed my anxieties with his calming and sensible words. Dear god in heaven, I thought in a panic, what have I
done
? Paul was the sole reliable vector in my disjointed life and I’d chased him
away
! Kim, you stupid,
stupid
girl! I’ve always denied that I had a temper, but I knew, deep down, that I did, and I’d never been able to master it, much to my chagrin. I half convinced myself to phone Paul and ask for his forgiveness when Roger appeared and urged me to hurry up as he wanted to start drawing before the light became too bright. I put my plans with Paul on hold and scampered down to Roger’s car.
We drove to the countryside and halted beside a small meadow that Roger knew. Maria and I unpacked Roger’s easel as he strolled around, searching for the perfect spot to pose me. Finally he found what he was looking for and explained the pose he wanted me to adopt. I was to be kneeling, examining a small flower in my hand. It was going to be another nude painting, so I removed my clothes – the grass didn’t half
tickle
– and slipped into my meditative trance. I was well out of it when Roger shook me back to this reality. I yawned, stretched indulgently and looked around. The sun was well overhead, so I must have been under for more than two hours. I started to get dressed. Maria was nowhere in sight, but two strangers suddenly
were
, both of whom were carrying guns pointed at Roger and myself. I froze, in the act of getting into my dress, knowing that there was nothing much to be done. They had us at their mercy. I presumed they were from the local ‘Mobsters Incorporated’ that had been giving us all the trouble, but this time they appeared to be playing for keeps. I dropped my dress to the ground and raised my hands, hoping that my abject surrender would keep them from doing anything foolish.
Roger and I were pushed into a car and driven to an isolated villa on the outskirts of town. I had been graciously allowed to finish my dressing routine, under the lustful stares of the gunmen. I felt uneasy about Maria’s absence and couldn’t imagine where she had gone. I only hoped the gunmen hadn’t come across her first and had done something permanent to her. We were bundled out of the car and forced to walk through to a large room where two people awaited. One was a grossly overweight individual, sitting on a chair, with open sores decorating his face and arms, but it was the
second
person, standing beside him, who held all of my attention. It was
Maria
, smiling a welcome at Roger and myself.
“Maria?” questioned Roger, disbelievingly. “What are you doing here?
Who
are these people?”
“These people you owe the money,” she explained, not taking her eyes off me. “You pay. Else they break fingers. Maybe even chop
off
. Advise you pay.”
Roger was aghast, and I wasn’t feeling much better.
Maria
?! I couldn’t wrap my head around it. After all we’d done together and
been
to each other, she had turned out to be the traitor after all. I just couldn’t believe my instincts could have led me so far astray. My thoughts were interrupted by a gravelly voice from the man sitting on the chair.
“Hello, sweet thing,” he said. “I see you’ve hardly changed at all. Remember
me
?”
I stared at him in revulsion. He was obviously in the last stages of a life of debauchery and it had taken a dreadful toll of his physical appearance.
“No,” I answered coldly. “
Should
I?”
He chuckled lewdly. “Oh, but you should,” he replied. “Think back to your commune days and the lessons I taught you when you first arrived.”
And then the memories came crashing back……...
I gasped in horror, one hand to my mouth. “No,” I whispered in shock. “It
can’t
be! Not
you
! How did you……? Why…….?”
“I’ve been searching for you for ages,” the man leered. “I wanted to personally thank you for all those years I spent in jail, but I have to say that I learned all
sorts
of interesting things while I was there. I passed the time imagining how I’d apply them to you if I ever found you again. And I
have
. Isn’t Fate interesting? Of course, I didn’t know you were here at the time. But when I was shown your photo, I knew it was your destiny to meet me again. Aren’t you
pleased
to see me?”
The terrors of my early adulthood gripped me like an octopus and shook me to my very soul. It had been so sudden that I hadn’t been able to prepare any defences and I was immediately catapulted back into the darkest days of my life. I gave a strangled sob and sank to my knees, powerless to resist.
“
That’s
what I like to see,” he gloated. “I want to see your pain, and I promise you, this is just the
beginning
.”
I looked up at him with anguished eyes. “You’re a
monster
!” I declared. “What have you done to Maria?”
He smiled evilly and waved his hand at her, still standing immobile at his side. “That’s the
best
thing of all,” he boasted. “Did you know she’s the
daughter
of that bitch who took you
away
from me?”
I nodded dumbly.
“When I found that out,” he sneered, “I knew the best way to avenge myself was to corrupt her peacenik daughter. I can hear the screams from her grave right now. What was her name?
Moon
….something. Yeah, Moonbeam.”
My vision blurred. This man had taken everything from me and now had ripped the innocence from the child of my first love. Unfortunately, I had first-hand experience at how easily he could destroy dreams and gentler feelings. I struggled to my feet, tears trickling down my face.
“Ah, yes,” he purred, “I
love
to see you cry. It brings back so many happy memories.” I started forward, intent only on destroying this …..this antithesis…this
aberration
to all that was good in my life but was blocked by Maria who suddenly stepped between me and my hated goal.
“Don’t do,” she advised. “Men shoot you dead. He no care.”
I stared at her in disgust. “
Et tu
, Maria?” I asked, heartbroken, plagiarising and misquoting probably one of the best known of Shakespearian lines.
She slapped me across the face and I recoiled in shock, the emotional hurt far outweighing the physical pain. She gripped my shoulders and hissed, “Remember what me tell you when you become my mother.” Then she slapped me again. My mind reeled but her words replayed themselves in my mind: ‘
No matter what happen and what me do, me always friend. Want you to remember this if time ever come when you doubt
.’ I stared into her eyes and she looked back at me, desperately trying to convey a message of sorts. A light dawned in the darkness. Maybe there
was
hope after all.
My tormentor heaved his bulk off his chair and waddled over to me.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment for a long time,” he whispered gleefully. “You were
always
my favourite.” He reached out a palsied hand and grasped me around the neck. I had a hard time not to lose my breakfast at his touch. “So innocent, so pure and so willing to do everything I wanted. I miss those days.” He motioned to one of the gunmen. “Keep an eye on our artist friend. If Miss Hippie here even
blinks
in the wrong way,
shoot
him.”
Then he turned his attention back to me. “I’ve seen the way my men were beaten up. You seemed to have learned some new tricks since I’ve last seen you, so I’m not taking any chances,” he smirked. “I’ve longed to see you again, my precious. But first things first. Get undressed for me. I want to see you the way you were all those years ago.”
I took a deep breath, hiding my revulsion. I was trapped because of the danger to Roger. I had to obey. I slowly undressed, keeping eye contact with Maria. Was she
really
on my side as she wanted me to believe, or was it all a massive bluff? Was she simply further tormenting me by adding the hope of her aid to my misery? I didn’t know.
I discarded my last article of clothing and stood immobile, facing my captor who mumbled, “Just as
pretty
as I remember.” He ran his hands over my body and I had to close my eyes to shut out the sight of his slobbering face. His hands wandered
everywhere
and I fiercely clamped down on those disturbing memories of long ago that threatened to rise to the surface like bloated corpses. Maria was right. They
still
haunted me, even though I had believed that I’d left them far behind. My dreams
had
been a warning then, but in the end they hadn’t benefited me at all, because I was once again in the depraved clutches of my worst enemy, and
this
time I knew he wouldn’t show me
any
mercy. But I did have
one
advantage, well ……. two, if I counted the unknown factor of Maria, in that I wasn’t the same person I was in the commune days. Thanks to the initial help of Moonbeam, I was so much
stronger
in mental, spiritual and physical strength than I had been back then. True, the scars on my soul were still present, and they’d unexpectedly reared their ugly heads once again, but I could defeat them because I was much more experienced now and knew what was happening. I could win. I
knew
I could. I’d fought harder battles than this and come out on top. My main stumbling block was my degraded memories, imprinted into my psyche and fouling my inner being. I had to get
rid
of them once and for all.
Chapter 21.
After partially satisfying his initial lusts by his invasive explorations of my body, I was allowed to dress and Roger and I were thrown into a locked room, with the two gunmen standing guard. I had a quick tour around but found that the room was a secure prison with no easy exits. So much for escaping.
“That vile man seems to
know
you, Kim,” Roger asked quizzically.
“Unfortunately, he does,” I answered grimly. “From another lifetime ago.”
“So, what do we do now?” Roger asked hopefully. “Do you have some grand, secret escape plan in mind?”
“I’m afraid not, Roger,” I said. “I wish I did, but nothing comes to mind just yet. Maria might be the surprise package here.”
“
Maria
!” Roger spat contemptuously. “She’s
with
them! I never would have believed it.”
“I’m not sure I believe it even now,” I encouraged. “Things aren’t quite what they seem with her, although I can’t quite make out her strategy just yet.”
“She was the one who let those gangsters into the house in the first place, wasn’t she?” Roger asked despondently. “And I
trusted
her completely.”
“Don’t give up on Maria yet, sweetie,” I told him. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll need about an hour of total quiet. There’s some deep meditating I have to do to purge myself of certain memories and I’ll need complete silence.”
“For sure, my dear,” he acquiesced, puzzled. “I’ll be as quiet as one of my paintings.”
I found a comfortable spot on the floor and relaxed my physical and mental muscles with some calming exercises. Then I went into battle with my memories. I accessed the storage vaults where they were hiding and battered down the door of their room. They flew around me, shrieking at me with their hateful venom. I was assaulted with the images of begging on my hands and knees for the cessation of the beatings; of having to perform the most disgusting of sexual perversions; of my endless weeping at the pain and humiliation of everything I was forced to undergo and the
worst
image of them all – of being taken into the rough and uncaring arms of my ravisher and deceived into believing that I
loved
him, in spite of all the torments he was inflicting. I saw those groping hands on me once again and the violation of every centimetre of my initially innocent and trusting body. And I
fought
them all. I battled those replays with every weapon at my disposal and I
won
. I knew that I’d won because the sordid icons of my past exploded into nothingness before my eyes. Symbolism, maybe, but
real
nonetheless.
Slowly, I returned to the present – to our prison and the diabolical evil man at the centre of my distress. But I was rejuvenated. My spirit had been bolstered to unimaginable heights and I believed that
nothing
could ever break it down again. I was finally free of my past ghosts and my mental wounds had been healed. I stretched and stood up, delighting in my freedom.
“You seem
different
somehow,” Roger guessed astutely.
“I
am
different,” I assured him. Succumbing to my euphoria, I took his hands and waltzed him around the room, much to Roger’s bafflement.
“Kim, what the
blazes
has gotten into you?” he asked, breathless, when I finally stopped.
I laughed softly. “Don’t mind me, Roger,” I assured him. “I’m just happy to be me and in control of my life for the
first
time in ages.”
Maria visited us some time later, accompanied by the two guards. Roger and I were forced to sit on the floor with our hands on our heads before they would enter. Clearly the word had come down not to take the slightest chance with us.
“Well, what do
you
want?” I asked Maria, sarcastically. She flushed a little at my tone, but I was playing along to see what she would do.
“You wanted by Boss Man,” she said tonelessly.
“
Why
, Maria?” Roger asked despairingly. “
Why
did you join the ranks of the ungodly? I trusted you implicitly.”
“Boss Man teach me many things,” she replied. “Give me much money. That’s all.” She glanced away, but couldn’t quite hide the loathing on her face.
Yes
! I thought ecstatically. She
hasn’t
been won over to his side at all. I
knew
it! She looked back at me and briefly winked, which I pretended not to have seen. Then she strode over to where I was sitting and slapped me yet again. It
hurt
too. I’m sure it was hard enough to leave the imprint of her hand on my cheek, which I suppose was the whole idea.
“You get up,” she threatened, pulling me up by the front of my dress and managing to slip something inside my pocket. I pretended to struggle a bit but succumbed to her shoving meekly enough as I was pushed outside.
Maria escorted me back into the presence of the man I detested most in all the world, but this time I was ready.
Nothing
he did to me now could affect me, because I had severed the ties to my sordid past, while
he
was still reliving it, believing that I was also. And this was where I’d ultimately win our battle. On his command, I was forced to shed my clothes again, but it no longer mattered to me. Even his repulsive molesting didn’t disturb my serenity – I simply thought of Moonbeam and the smile on her loving face as she caressed me on those magical nights we spent together. In my mind’s eye I was
back
there, full of wonder at how peaceful and safe I felt, wrapped in her arms as she whispered to me how lovely I was and how much she cared for me. I’d put my hands behind her head and tug her towards my eager lips, kissing her until I ran out of breath and pulling away from her with a gasp, laughing with joy at the miraculous nature of it all. Then she’d tickle me until I was helplessly giggling and pleading with her to stop before I did physical damage to some internal organ. She’d laugh at my protests but cease her activities, only to renew her caresses until I was squirming with delight under her magical fingers. When I was almost incoherent with pleasure, she’d give me one last, lingering kiss and cuddle me until I fell asleep, my body side by side with hers and my head resting on her chest, with her steady, reassuring heartbeat echoing in my ears and her hands tenderly stroking down my long, blonde hair.
Maria’s palm striking my face brought me back to the present.
“
Dress
now,” she commanded brusquely. I shook my head dazedly and did as I was bid.
“Don’t hit her
too
hard,” she was told. “I don’t want anything to mark that lovely face just yet. I want her to stay exactly the way she was when we first met. Pity about the hair though, but that’ll grow back in time.
Feed
her, too. I don’t want her to lose that gorgeous figure. I’ll need something to
hold
onto later on.” An obscene bubbling laugh followed as I was led away, pleased to leave the poisonous atmosphere of the room.
Maria roughly pushed me back into my prison, where an anxious Roger was waiting. I waited until the door was locked, motioned for him to follow me to the furthest corner away from the guards and carefully investigated what Maria had left for me. It consisted of a note, wrapped around a key – a
key
to the door of this room, I hoped. In a strange contrast to her everyday speech, Maria’s note was written in perfect English, which made me suspect that she had learned the language from
books
and not from listening to people speaking. The note read as follows:
Dearest Kim,
Please forgive me for the slaps and my overall rough manner. I have to show that I’m one of them, although it sickens my very soul. This is the distribution centre of the local drug trade and I have to find out where the drugs are stored. Once I know that, I can escape this horrible place and bring in the authorities. In the meantime, I’ve left a key to your room. You can leave at any time, but watch out for the guards. They have orders to shoot you without hesitation. I’d advise you to go sooner rather than later before that maniac does something permanent to you. He’s insane, although you probably already know that. He blames you and my mother for what has happened to him, although it’s a classic case of self-delusion. Make no mistake, he intends to kill you, but not just yet. He wants to see you suffer first.
No matter what happens, my adopted mother, take care, because I love you.
Maria.
“Well, if we can believe this, then I owe her a huge apology,” Roger murmured. “But what does she mean by calling you her ‘adopted mother’?”
“It’s a long story, Roger,” I informed him, “and we don’t have time for it right now. Our number one priority is getting you out of here and someplace safe. Then I’ll be coming back for Maria, and
nothing
had better get in my way.”
Our first duty was to some distract the guards so we could safely escape the room. I suggested a mock fight, since the underlings had been cautioned not to let me be damaged in any way, therefore the guards would be sure to come running. I casually wandered over to the door and peered out. The two henchmen were sitting at a table, some distance from our room, playing cards. So far, so good. I used Maria’s key as quietly as I could and opened the door. So far, even
better
. I then instructed Roger in the pseudo fight. He was dubious that he’d be a convincing enough actor in our little melodrama.
“It’s easy,” I encouraged. “Just yell a lot and hit me.”
“
Hit
you?” he exclaimed. “I could
never
hit a woman. It’s
unthinkable
!”
“It’s only make-believe,” I told him. “Once my usefulness to our ugly friend has ended, what reason would he have to keep
you
alive? So far your sole excuse for still existing is to keep
me
in line.”
“Point taken,” Roger said. “What do you want me to do?”
Our plan worked beautifully. Roger began yelling obscenities, although I could see he had to force himself to let the words past his lips. He also started to hit me, cupping his hand so that the effect was mainly noise. It must have looked real
enough
, because the sentinels galloped to the door, peering inside the room through the grill set in the door’s woodwork. Roger and I had placed ourselves next to the door and, when the two guards were in position, I kicked it open, catching them both in the face. I leapt through the open door and ensured that they wouldn’t be causing us any more trouble by knocking them unconsciousness. We then dragged them into the room and locked the door. As a precaution I took their guns, giving one to Roger who carried it at arm’s length as if it was a live snake.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get out of the place. My immediate plan was to take Roger to safety so I could concentrate on finding Maria, but I ended up wandering around, totally lost. But, by sheer chance, we came across her, but not in the way I wanted. I was peering around yet another door in the vain hope that it was the entrance, when I saw Maria. She was tied to a post, naked and barely conscious, being tortured by His Royal Evilness. Obviously, her ploy of pretending to be one of the bad guys had been discovered. My plan of escaping with Roger went up in smoke. By the time I returned, Maria would most likely be dead. As it was, she didn’t appear to be too far away from that even now. Our host was standing with his back to me, grasping a gory knife, studying his sickening handiwork. Maria was moaning slightly and virtually covered in blood from head to toe from the myriad of small cuts festooning her body.
I felt physically ill from the sight and I heard Roger give a gasp of horror behind me. I couldn’t wait. I had to rescue Maria
now
. There was one of the guards in the room and I noticed a revolver strapped to his waist. I had to take
him
out of the picture first then – I couldn’t allow an armed man to be wandering around during our rescue attempt. I motioned for Roger to stay well back and positioned myself by the door. Although I loathed guns, preferring to use my body limbs as a weapon, I
had
been trained in their use.
Any
weapon was a part of martial arts, be it knife, sword, gun or staff, so I raised it, sighted and shot the man through the upper thigh. He yelped and immediately fell to the ground, clutching his leg. Maria’s torturer spun around, saw me and flicked the knife in my direction, all in one movement. I hadn’t expected such a display of quickened reflexes from such a grossly overweight person and was slow to get out of the way. I felt the knife point penetrate through my forearm and I dropped the gun with a hiss of pain.
And there was the tableau: Maria, instinctively weakly struggling against her bonds; Roger, hand over his mouth, trying not to retch from what he was seeing; the fat man, looking around for
another
weapon; and me, trying to pull the knife free from my arm. Of course, it couldn’t last. Maria finally fainted from the pain; Roger actually
did
lose his lunch on the floor; my nemesis ran toward me shrieking hysterically as I pulled the knife free with a grunt of effort. The next thing that happened was purely accidental and, although it solved all our problems, it was very much of an anti-climax and
not
the way I would have liked to have ended things. As my old enemy ran towards me, now completely insane, he impaled himself on the knife I was still holding in my hand. After all the suffering and misery he had inflicted over the years, I would have preferred a more fitting, and much
longer
lasting, ending for this fiend, but it wasn’t to be. As he bled his life away on the floor, I stepped over him and ran over to Maria to see what could be done. I untied her and gently laid her on the floor. I was astonished that she was still breathing. I found some clean cloth and bound the majority of her more serious wounds, but it was obvious that she needed some serious medical attention, and
soon
. I called to a recovered Roger to find a telephone to call for an ambulance and he scrambled away to do my bidding. I then bound my own wound, cradled Maria’s upper body on my lap and waited.