Tats (26 page)

I get back in her face. “What’s wrong, tell me, Viv,” I plead. “What’s happening?”

She flings herself out of my arms and rolls to the far side of the bed, lying there limp.

“I’m calling nine-one-one, okay? I’m going to get help.”

Suddenly, she’s up on her knees in the middle of the bed all teeth and claws, screaming, “No! No, goddammit! Can’t you see I want to be alone! I just want to be left alone! Why the hell can’t you leave me alone!”

She swings at me with one loose fist, but I catch her wrist and wrestle her back down to the bed. She fights me like some kind of wild banshee, all sharp elbows and knees. I straddle her and hold her arms down with my knees and ignore her kicks in my back.

That’s when I see it. Pills. Pills everywhere. Different colors, different shapes, must be a hundred or more pills strung around the bed and on the floor.

I scoop a few into my hand and show them to her. “What’s this? Did you take a bunch of pills?”

She bucks me off, yelling, “Leave me the fuck alone!” 

She kicks my hand with her bare foot and the pills fly across the room and ping off the far wall. Her voice breaks into gasping sobs, “Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?!”

She curls up against the headboard and wraps herself around a pillow.

I gently grasp her shoulder. “How many did you take?” I plead. “Vivian? C’mon... How many did you take?”

She curls her legs up to her chest and sobs on her knees, “Just...go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Viv, I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.”

“They always go,” she sobs to herself. “They always go. Why should you be any different?”

“Yeah, well,” I sigh, “they’re probably a lot smarter than me.”

I scoop her into my arms and carry her like a baby into the bathroom. “You’re not gonna like this, princess, but it’s got to be done.”

I dump her into a pile in front of the toilet. She cusses and kicks and when she tries to crawl out the door, I catch her by her hair and drag her back to the toilet. I kneel on the floor behind her and hold her in a knee-lock so she can’t escape again.

I force her mouth open with one hand and jam two fingers down her throat with the other. Thank God she has a good gag reflex. She heaves into the bowl while I hold her hair out of the way. I flush away the streams of bright pill colors that spew out of her belly.

I jam my fingers down her throat again and this time she bites me. I have to slap her across the face to get my fingers back. Fingers be damned, I do it again and again and again and I don’t stop until all the colors have left her stomach and she’s dry heaving.

We’re both shaking and slick with sweat by the time I let her lay her head across the toilet.

I rip open the shower curtain and turn the water on cold. I kick off my boots and throw my jacket off.  I pick her up under her arms, dangling her off the floor like a puppet. I drag her into the icy cold shower with me and her fight comes back full-force. She twists and thrashes and tries every which way to get out from under the ice water. I lock my arms across her chest and let her just wear herself out.

She finally quiets and I stand a few minutes under the water with her limp body leaning back against me. When her muscles spasm and jerk involuntarily against the cold, I pick her up in my arms and walk with her into the bedroom. I lay her down on the bed and strip off her wet clothes. I shuck off my own clothes and crawl into bed with her. I hug her hard to my warm body and try to rub some warmth back into her arms and legs.

After a few moments, she cries, “Let me sleep, Lee, I just need to sleep.”

“Sorry,” I say. “You’re not going to be sleeping for a while.” I pull her off the bed and walk her around the tiny room. When her knees give out from exhaustion, I drape one of her arms across my shoulders and drag her.

I walk and drag and walk and drag. Then I get back in the cold shower with her and stand under the icy water until she gets her fight back. Then I walk her some more.

When dawn finally comes, I lay her back in bed, gather up every little pill I can find and flush them, then I spoon up behind Vivian while she sleeps. I place my palm on her belly so I can feel the motion of her breathing.

I don’t sleep.

It’s dusk when she wakes up. She bolts out of bed and and paces the floor like a caged animal.

“Lay down,” I say. “You need to rest, Viv.”

She looks at me directly for the first time since I found her and snarls, “Fuck you.” She paces some more. Helpless, I sit on the edge of the mattress watching her.

Suddenly, she darts into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I follow her only to find out she’s thumb-locked the damn door behind her.

I knock. “Let me in, Viv.”

“Fuck you!”

“Let me in or I break down this door.”

“Fuck you!”

I throw my shoulder as hard as I can against the hollow core door and it flies open, banging against the wall behind it.

Vivian stands over the sink with a handful of pills. A hairspray can is in the sink. Good Lord, she’s been hiding pills in the lid of the hairspray can.

“Get the fuck out!” she screams. “Can’t I even pee in privacy?!”

I wrestle her for the pills and am amazed at how much strength she has left. I finally get the pills and throw them in the toilet. She makes a dive for them, thrusting her arm down the bowl, but I manage to flush before she can catch any.

Screaming every obscenity I’ve ever heard and some I haven’t, she heaves her body against mine and pushes me halfway out the door. She grabs the edge of the door and tries to slam it on me, but I manage to stop it with my foot. Defeated, Vivian plops down on the toilet lid and buries her face in her hands. “I just want to go. Please God, Lee, let me get out of here.”

I kneel down in front of her and take her hands away from her face. “I can’t let you do that.”

She jumps up and is out the door before I can get off the floor. I stumble after her and for a scary moment I don’t see her.

I hear her.

I crouch to my knees and look under the bed. She’s squeezed herself under the bed and is frantically picking pills out of the dirty carpet nap. I reach under the bed and grab her by the wrist and hair and drag her out.

She shoves the pills in her mouth before I can get them out of her fist.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Vivian,” I say. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

This time I don’t even bother with the toilet. I bend her over the bed and shove my fingers in her mouth and scoop out several pills.

I’m working on no sleep and my nerves are shredded to a pulp, so this time when she bites me, I react and slap the shit out of her.

She slaps me back.

I push her flat on her back on top of the bed and grab her wrists. I pull her arms above her head and hold them there with my left hand and pin her to the bed with my knee.

I slap her across the face. “That’s for slapping me!” I scream. I slap her again. “And that’s for hitting me with your damn shoe all the time!”

She spits in my face. “You fucking dyke! Can’t you see that I don’t want to be around you?”

I let her spittle drip down my cheek.

“Yeah, well, sometimes I don’t like you very much either. But I’m not trying to kill myself over it.”

“Just like your mother!” she yells. “Don’t you think that’s more than a coincidence? All the women in your life trying to kill themselves? Gee, Lee, what’s the common denominator, there?” she laughs.

I grit my teeth and choke back my anger.

“Are you getting mad, Lee? Mad enough to kill me?” She struggles against me, but I hold her tighter. “Too bad you don’t have a gun, right? Then you could just erase this little problem, too.”

“You’re a real bitch,” I say softly.

“Hell, I could’ve told you that,” she says.

“I’m not going to let you die like this, Vivian. So you better just get used to the idea.”

She bucks against me hard and it sends us both sprawling to the floor. Luckily, I end up on top of her so she can’t get away. I lie prone on top of her with my whole body and hold her down.

“Go ahead, you fucking dyke,” she says. “Go ahead and fuck me. Go ahead and fuck me and get it over with so you can just LEAVE!”

“I’m not trying to fuck you, you idiot! I’m trying to save your goddamn life! And as for calling me a dyke over and over...I take that as a compliment. If you really want me to leave, you’ll dry out and calm down. But I’m not leaving until then.”

She stops struggling, closes her eyes and turns her face away. I’m afraid she’s faking, so I don’t let her go for a long time. When I’m sure she’s really asleep, I lay down next to her on the floor with my palm on her belly.

I lie awake and feel the motion of her jagged breaths.

Time passes in fits and starts.

She claws at her own face. She rips at her hair. I pull her hands away and let her claw at me instead.

She cowers in a corner of the room, squatting in a puddle of her own piss, sweating and hallucinating. I throw her in another cold shower and wash her off.

The sun rises and bleeds through the curtains three times.

The fourth night I’m holding her in bed and I feel her body ease. Her muscles loosen and her breathing evens out. She falls into the blissful oblivion of sleep. I match my breathing to hers and am soon following.

“Wherever thou goest, I will go,” I whisper.

I wake up to sunshine streaming harshly through the window and Vivian in just her all-together, straddling me as I lie flat on my back. “You saved my life,” she says as soon as I open my eyes.

“Maybe a little,” I say, not at all oblivious to the fact that it’s not every day I wake up to a gorgeous naked woman sitting on me. I blink a couple of times to make sure she’s real and doesn’t disappear.

“I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my whole entire life and I’m awake and it’s only eight-thirty in the morning. And I woke up naked. And you’re naked. What have you done to me?”

“Nothing yet,” I joke.

“Maybe you should,” she says in a voice that doesn’t sound at all like she’s joking.

She leans over and her breasts lightly touch my own. Her long red hair trails over my shoulders and face. My nipples harden instantly.

Vivian looks into my eyes and holds my gaze. Her normally purple eyes are now blue like the color of the sky in a child’s coloring book. She pins me to the bed with those unblinking eyes.

I know from my late-night viewing of the History Channel while caught up in insomnia, that somewhere out there is a parallel universe and in that parallel universe I am making mad, nasty, crazy, passionate love to Vivian. I decide to test the string theory and see if I can enter this alternate world.

Without taking my eyes from hers, I put my hand on her breast and let my thumb lightly graze across her nipple. She doesn’t pull away or look away or blink or anything. So, I trail my other hand up the outside of her thigh and slide it under her butt.

She leans in to me a little more and confesses in my ear, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You’re doing an okay job so far,” I whisper back.

I feel her warm breath in my ear and then her lips are on mine and she’s kissing me. It’s a take-all-the-time-you-need-type of kiss. Her tongue flicks across my teeth and teases my tongue. I follow her lead and revel in our first real kiss. She pulls an inch or so away and I’m hit with a sudden panic that she’s changed her mind.

“You okay?” I ask. And when she doesn’t immediately answer, I add, “We can stop. If you’re not okay with this, we can stop.”

She wraps her hand around the back of my neck, pulls my mouth to hers and kisses me hard. She gives my tongue a sharp nip with her teeth and warns, “Stop talking.”

I flip her onto her back. I’m on my knees in between her legs and I freeze to admire how absolutely beautiful she is. No makeup, no Wonderbra, no miniskirt or high heels and she is perfection in her natural state. I went to a museum once on a high school field trip and the paintings were so unbelievably beautiful that my fingers were twitching to just reach out and touch them. Of course, touching the paintings was forbidden.

But I’m not in a museum, am I?

I lie on top of Vivian and hold most of my weight on my elbows and let my body lightly graze hers. She wraps her legs around my hips and we move together, feeling each other’s rhythm. Her kissing becomes more passionate, more intense. I reach my left hand under her butt and help her move with me. She sucks on my bottom lip as her fingers tease my nipples. I try to slow down the pace a little by moving my mouth to her throat, biting and nipping her neck and shoulders. I move down further and flick her nipples with my tongue, teasing. Her breath comes in short little gasps and when I suck a nipple into my mouth, she moans just the tiniest bit.

I’m reluctant to leave her breasts. Because, seriously, I could stay on them all day. And I would, too, but Vivian finally gasps, “...I want you...inside me.”

I know what she just said, and I want nothing more in this parallel world, but there’s no way I’m going to rush this. I slide my right hand down her hip and the outside of her thigh, caressing the length of her leg. I slowly move my hand up the inside of her leg and trace my fingers up her thigh. My fingers play across her warmth and I feel she’s wet and more than ready.

I take my mouth away from her breast and look her in the face. She’s staring at me expectantly, not breathing. I ease my fingers slowly inside her; she closes her eyes, arches her back and thrusts against my hand.

I pull back, testing her reaction. “Please...” she moans and grabs my hand, bringing it back fully inside her. I explore the inside of her with my fingers, moving slowly as she rocks against me. She knows what she wants and I’m content to let her set the pace. I move with her beat and her urgency.

She’s breathing heavy now, eyes closed, wanting more. I scoot further down and while my fingers continue to move, I use my mouth and tongue to taste her.

She inhales sharply and I draw away for a second, but then she wraps her thighs around my shoulders, places her hands on my head and guides me back into place. Now I’m the one setting the pace with my tongue and hand and she moves to my tempo.