Authors: Steve Elliott
Chapter 15.
Roger modestly accepted our compliments about the painting and outlined his ideas for the
next
one. “I’m thinking of a field,” he announced, “maybe with tall grass or something like that. Kim is gazing at a flower. It’s all about innocence and inner contemplation. Or perhaps looking into the distance. No, I prefer the
flower
idea. It’ll have to be a small flower and not all that pretty. Sort of a run-of-the-mill flower. A flower for the common man. Yes….I like it. You okay with an
outdoor
setting, Kim?”
“Why not,” I shrugged. Don’t make it
too
concealed though. I want to see if anybody is sneaking up on us. We still have those gangsters running around, you know.”
“One field, not too hidden.
Gotcha
.” Roger grinned.
We went down to lunch in a celebratory mood. “What are you going to do with the painting?” I asked Roger curiously as we were eating.
“I’d like to keep it for awhile,” he mused, “but after that I’ll put it in a gallery and give everyone else a chance to admire you as well. That was the whole idea in the first place really. I’d be selfish to keep such beauty to myself.”
I blushed at his words. “You’re such a flatterer,” I told him. “If I have any qualities at all, it’s because you
painted
them in.”
“No, sweetness,” he contradicted, “I just brought them to the surface. You’ve
always
had them.”
“No more talk about painting,” I commanded. “You’re embarrassing me. Let’s celebrate this afternoon. What can we do?”
“Do fun thing,” Maria suggested. “Go see museum.”
“What?” I cried. “Go to a
museum
? Is that your idea of
fun
?”
Maria smirked. “Just kid. You so easy to fool. Go to
rodeo
.”
“Rodeo, eh?” said Roger. “Lots of men on large, sweaty horses. Or vice versa, perhaps. Hmmm, not a bad idea. Lots of painting ideas there. I’m in.”
“Sounds good to me too,” I concurred. “It’ll be something different and crowds of people to keep the baddies away. It gets my vote. Paul, what do you think?”
“You’re asking
me
?” he said, with feigned astonishment. “Why, I’m touched.” He wiped away an imaginary tear. “My little sister, actually wanting to know
my
thoughts on something…… I don’t know what to say.”
I waved a fist in front of his face. “That’s enough,” I threatened. “Not another word, otherwise I’ll be forced to inflict some sort of horrible punishment on your person.”
“Do you see how she
treats
me?” Paul appealed to the others, who were all grinning at our horseplay. “I’m a slave to her tyrannical whims. This is why I can’t take her anywhere.”
So, off to the rodeo we went, despite Fluff’s disapproving yaps at being left behind. I have to admit it was fairly exciting. There’s something about sitting in safety while others risked life and limb trying to control wild animals that appealed to me. The sounds and smells added to it all. It was so unlike watching it on television where all you had to work with was the visuals. Roger was agog. I now knew his sexual proclivities were of the male persuasion, so he would have been in paradise. The cowboys were mainly rugged and muscular, although not all were handsome. A lifetime of dealing with recalcitrant horses had left its mark on some of them, but
still
……
We ran into trouble when we went searching for a drink. The drinks stall was situated around the back, behind the seating stands, and fairly isolated. It was there that our favourite three mobsters were lurking. Unfortunately, because of the noise, I didn’t hear them until they were almost breathing down our necks. This time, they had escalated the war by being all armed with knives which they waved around as if that was the ultimate deterrent.
Idiots!
They just don’t make mobsters the way they used to. Things were so different in the old days. Back then, when someone threatened you, you felt
really
threatened. Nowadays…
bah
! It was all flashy poses and vulgar words. I blame Hollywood for it, you know. Too many gangster movies.
Anyway, they rushed at us, swearing like sailors caught in a typhoon. Roger was bowled over and hit the ground in a heap. Paul adroitly skipped aside and tripped one of them as he brushed past. I slammed my fist into Paul’s thug as he stumbled towards me and followed that up with a knee to his stomach. He collapsed, wheezing like a broken accordion. I kicked him in the head for good measure as he fell. Maria was trading punches with the other two, so I jumped over to lend a hand. She smiled gratefully at my intervention and we settled down to take one apiece.
It’s no fun being unarmed in a knife fight. Blades can cause debilitating injuries, even accidently, so you have to be extra careful. Unfortunately, Maria wasn’t as careful as I was. I heard her cry of pain and afforded her a quick glance to find her holding her left arm, blood running through her fingers. But she wasn’t helpless. As her attacker gave a triumphant shout and raised his knife to finish the job, she leaned back and kicked him in the chest. He flew backwards and banged his head on a nearby tree. I turned my attention back to my attacker, only to find that he had disappeared in the confusion.
I rushed over to Maria, who was sitting on the ground, cradling her injured limb. “Let me see, sweetie,” I asked, gently taking away her hand.
“Is not serious,” she said. “Catch me by surprise.”
I examined her wound. It was long, but not deep. I breathed a sigh of relief. I bound it tightly with my handkerchief and helped her to her feet.
“You scared me there,” I confessed, giving her a concerned kiss on the cheek.
“Scare myself,” she replied, returning my kiss. “Need more practice.”
“You okay, honey?” Paul asked, coming over while supporting a wobbly Roger.
“I’m fine,” I answered. “How are you, Roger?”
“Just a bit shook up,” he replied. “This was a bit more serious, wasn’t it?”
I frowned. “They must be getting desperate,” I said. “But there seems to be only these three in the gang. Hopefully, there aren’t any more in reserve.”
“What do we do with these two?” Paul asked, indicating the fallen and still unconscious attackers.
“Me tell police,” Maria said.
“It won’t do much good, dear heart,” Roger told her pessimistically. “All the police around here are corrupt.”
“Not all,” Maria insisted, with conviction. “Some, yes. Me know good ones. Very straight. No take bribes. Me tell. You no worry.”
Chapter 16.
We decided that we’d had enough excitement for the day, so we headed for home. Maria immediately went to the phone and had a long conversation with someone on the other end. Then she put the phone down with a decisive hand and declared, “All done. No bother us again.”
“We’ll see,” Roger declared doubtfully. He went up to his studio to encase his impressions of the rodeo in charcoal. Paul wandered off to our room and I took the opportunity to wash and bandage Maria’s injury.
“Me watch you fight,” she said softly as I wound the cloth around her arm. “You so fast and slippery. Where you learn?”
I smiled in reminiscence. “All over the place,” I informed her, as the memories flooded back once again……. I’d been with Moonbeam for over nine months. I was ecstatically happy with my life because I loved someone and was loved in return. My days were complete. The memories of my earlier virtual imprisonment and abuse were fading into the background and I was gradually learning to wake up to the coming day with
joy
and not dread. But all of that changed soon after. I was shopping by myself – the commune ran a small market – when a hand clamped over my mouth and I was roughly dragged into a nearby alleyway between the market tents.
“Well, what have we here?” a sneering voice remarked. “It’s my former
girlfriend
who ran off with some tart or other.”
I twisted my head around to the very
last
sight I wanted to see again. It was my former captor, with a cruel, horrible smile on his lips. “We’re going to have so much fun together,” he leered. “It’ll be just like old times. Won’t you
like
that?”
I tried to struggle free, but it did me no good. In fact, it earned me a vicious blow to the head that set my ears ringing.
“Oh, no, you
don’t
,” he advised, gripping my arm and twisting it until I cried out in pain. “Don’t struggle. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”
“How did you get here?” I panted. “The
police
are after you.”
“I know,” he said, “all thanks to
you
.” He punctuated his remark with another blow to my face. “But I got away, didn’t I? I’m way too smart for them. But enough about
me
,” he purred, rubbing a lecherous hand over my upper body, “this is all about
you
, my pretty, and the things I want to do to you. And I warn you now, they won’t be pleasant.”
I intensified my exertions to win my freedom but could make no headway. I received several punches to the head as a result of my efforts and was beginning to lose consciousness when I heard such a welcome voice that I imagined I was dreaming it.
“Let her
go
, you sick bastard!” Moonbeam raged.
I was flung unceremoniously to the ground as my captor retorted, “Or else what,
freak
?”
“Or else,” replied Moonbeam calmly, “I’ll take you apart piece by
piece
.”
My tormentor laughed and kicked me in the stomach, making me retch. I heard Moonbeam comment, “You’re such a
brave
individual, aren’t you, kicking young girls when they can’t defend themselves? Tell me, do you beat up children and kittens as well?”
The man leapt forward with a roar of rage, only to meet Moonbeam’s fist as it landed flush on his face. He reeled back and Moonbeam followed, kicking and punching. Not that she escaped totally unscathed, of course – this was
real
life and not the movies. She received a few solid hits to the body but, overall, she pounded my tormentor into the dust. When he was lying broken and bloody on the ground, she ran to me and gently lifted my head onto her lap.
“Oh, dear one,” she asked, her voice breaking, “are you badly hurt?”
I weakly shook my head. “I’m okay,” I whispered and then abruptly erupted into tears from the sheer horror of it all. Moonbeam hugged me tightly as I clutched at her in desperation. All of my previous terrors that I had thought dead and buried, rose up and attacked me in strength. I wailed and clung to Moonbeam with all my strength.
“
Hush
now, baby,” she soothed, stroking my hair. “I’m here now and I won’t let anybody hurt you. You’re
safe
with me. Nothing can harm you.”
It took a good fifteen minutes before I stopped sobbing and, during all that while Moonbeam cradled me like a child.
Finally, when I could cry no more, Moonbeam sympathetically wiped my face dry. I must have looked a
sight
. My attacker had vanished, so Moonbeam took me back home, placed me on her bed and lay beside me. She brushed back the hair from my forehead and kissed me softly. “Go to sleep now, precious,” she said. “Things always seem
better
after a rest.”
She took me in her arms and commenced running her hand down my back and neck in a soothing rhythm. I sighed and closed my eyes, grateful for her reassuring closeness. Gradually I slipped into slumber, still encased in Moonbeam’s protective embrace.
When I awoke, Moonbeam had gone. I had a few moments of panic until I realised where I was. I scrambled out of bed and went into the garden where I found my saviour watering the plants.
“How are you feeling, lovely?” she asked anxiously.
“I’m fine, I think,” I replied, going over to her and giving her a kiss. “Thanks for rescuing me again.”
“It was nothing, sweet thing,” she said modestly. “When you didn’t come back when you said you would, I went looking for you.”
“You fight like a professional,” I remarked, looking at her speculatively. “
Where
did you learn to do that?”
Moonbeam chuckled. “I told you that my husband was a
policeman
. He taught me the basics of self defence, just in case.”
“But you’re the pin-up girl for peace,” I argued. “How do you reconcile that with
fighting
?”
She smiled and affectionately touched my arm. “I can be peaceful and still defend myself and those I love,” she reminded me. “Don’t you think that’s a
good
thing?”
“I guess so,” I admitted, thinking about how utterly helpless I had felt during my ordeal. I never wanted to experience that desperate feeling again. I recalled my earlier vow to do something about this, so I asked Moonbeam timidly, “Do you think you could teach
me
?”
“Of course I could, dearest,” she answered. “First lesson tomorrow.
Today
you recover and rest some more.”
And so began my path in the martial arts. Moonbeam taught me all she knew, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to be
invincible
; to be the finest I could possibly be. But, to do that, I had to
leave
the commune and seek martial arts masters in the outside world. However, I stayed with Moonbeam for months after I’d made the decision to depart, because I couldn’t bring myself to be apart from her. She filled my days and nights with a love that I wanted to keep for as long as I possibly could. But, eventually, I had to tear myself away if I ever wanted to fulfil my dream of physical security through self defence. I had no idea the day I left would be the last time I would ever see her again. As it was, I cried and cried until I thought I’d never stop. It took me
months
to get over that heartbreak.
In the outside world, I went from Master to Master, learning everything they could teach me. I was driven by a determination to be the
best
of the very best; to never have to fear a physical assault
ever
again. It became an obsession until, finally, Paul appeared outside the dojo I was ensconced in, dragged me home and talked some sense into me. Years had flittered by without my noticing and I had completely lost touch with reality. It soon became clear that I needed to reconnect with the world as I knew it and so I began a pilgrimage back to my old commune home, searching, in vain, for Moonbeam.