Katherine:
There is so much I want to tell my Captain, so much I want to share, but how?
Our tender moments are so precious...so precious...much too dear to waste even a
second of on something as mundane as my insignificant mental meanderings. And
our torrid sessions on the bench! How could I compose my throbbing passion long
enough to focus on an isolated thought at times like those? How?
And so I planned a picnic.
He looked a little puzzled when I suggested it. This wasn't something we'd ever
discussed, but quickly enough He was slipping into His beachwear and sandals
while I loaded a basket with a tasty repast. Soon, chilled champagne, pate,
crusty bread and warm runny brie lay waiting for our voyage to the shore. Then,
smiling, I added a small basket of strawberries and began to dress myself as
well.
The day was beautiful. All around us the air was filled with the cry of the
gulls, the soft murmur of the sea, and the haunting whisper of the breeze. It
was perfect. Perfect.
With a laugh He paused halfway down the beach, His eyes scanning our solitary
surroundings with a satisfied smile. It was after Labor Day now, the small
twosomes that miraculously found this isolated stretch of sand had long since
returned to their workaday lives and left this paradise to us alone.
Suddenly the import of what I had to say struck me. Perhaps it would be
unwelcome, this massive revelation of mine...a hair in the soup.
The day became clouded with doubts. What was I doing? I could spoil it all.
We'd never spoken of such things before...never assumed the overflowing
professions of love that so fill the intimate murmurings of more conventional
lovers. Perhaps I should leave it unsaid...an unspoken truth understood but
undeclared between us.
But no.
I needed this.
I needed to tell Him that he'd saved more than my life on the bridge that night,
more than my physical being...He'd saved my soul as well.
I needed to tell Him that.
To say that my former existence at home had been hell would have been a
misdirection. My Mother, herself a product of ill fate, had long since resigned
herself to her failed life. She had nothing left to give...not to herself or to
me. And so I'd become alienated, withdrawn, closing myself off to everyone...a
mouse trapped in an endless maze of empty circles until the day when I decided
to throw a few belongings into my pack and see if the world had anything better
to offer.
Finding work was more difficult than I'd imagined. At first my meager savings
had been enough to fill my belly each day and to provide a shabby room from
which to shelter myself from the cold world beyond. But soon that had dwindled
to nothing and I found myself on the streets. In desperation, I placed a call
to my Mother, hoping that she might be able to rouse herself enough to care if I
came home, but that too fell short of the mark. She was gone. The phone had
been disconnected. I was alone...truly alone. At the age of 19, my life was a
worthless shell.
I panhandled for a while, usually making enough to pay for a bed in a transient
shelter, but then even that seemed to peter out and I was faced with the cold
reality of finding odd doorways and alleys to shield me from the chill spring
rains.
There had been men along the way. Cold men with hard eyes and cash in hand. I
had resisted, but it had been tempting...so tempting...
And then one night, when I'd been chased out of my snug alcove by a more
persistent denizen of the streets, I hit rock bottom. I hadn't eaten in days.
My clothes were filthy, but it was the darkness of my soul that bore down upon
me the most. There was nowhere to go, no light at the end of the tunnel.
Without a bath and clothing...a home address and phone, the chances of improving
my lot in life were dismal.
Suddenly the cold cash of the streets, so readily offered, began to stand out in
the gloom. What good was pride if your belly was empty? What good was life
without hope?
And so, my heart hammering in my breast, I'd gone to a public restroom and
attempted to wash the dusty grime of the streets from my body. Other women came
and went, proper women, each casting dubious stares in my direction, their
disgust almost palpable as I attempted to right the ravages of my life with a
few splashes of water. Finally, having made the best of what I had, I sat in a
bathroom stall and tried to calm my shaking limbs...to hold back the flood of
tears that threatened to wash away my resolve.
And so I'd found myself a spot on the waterfront near a local bar, and tried to
hide the pale trembling of my hands deep in my pockets as a steady stream of men
made their way in and out of the lively establishment. Finally two sailors
exited the bar, one a tall man, heavily muscled, and the other a cadaverously
raw boned type, with a slippery gleam in his eye.
I cringed.
They were looking my way. They knew what I was there for...they knew! Slowly
the Cadaver approached me, his cold eyes assessing my worth as he came, his
thumb hooked arrogantly in the waistband of his uniform.
"Twenty bucks...for both of us," he added, his voice flat and unconcerned. I
was just a piece of trash along the wharf, nothing more. "Take or leave it."
Then quietly he held the twenty-dollar bill within view and took my measure.
He'd won, and he knew it. The hunger in my eyes had given me away...I was no
match for him.
So, lowering my lashes, I'd followed the two men to a nearby motel room, my
steps faltering, my hands clinging to my dusty rags as though they could save me
from myself. My eyes began to tear, my voice all but lost in the emotional
wasteland that had become my home as they closed the door behind us and began to
shed their clothing.
"Take it off, Bitch," Cadaver demanded. "We don't have all day." And with that
he tossed the last of his clothing on the dresser and took a place in a chair to
watch.
I turned away then, the sight of his erect member strange and threatening to me.
Was this what I'd waited for all of my life...was it?
"What is this, Bitch, some kind of con game? I paid you," Cadaver snarled. "Now
get over here!"
Suddenly "Muscles " propelled me from behind, forcing me to my knees on the
floor between Cadaver's outspread thighs. "Suck it, Bitch," the seated man
demanded. Then wrenching my hair, he forced my lips down upon his long, thin
erection and began to rut deep into my mouth.
I gagged, hot salty tears flooding down my cheeks as humiliation overcame me and
I tried to do what I knew I must, but no amount of preparation could have
readied me for this moment. I had failed, even here, and suddenly I knew that I
couldn't go through with it.
"No," I whimpered, attempting to pull away, but it was too late. Now "Muscles"
was kneeling behind me on the floor, his hands roughly shoving my skirt atop my
back, tearing at my cotton panties as his fingers groped between my legs,
forcing my buttocks apart. Then, for a second he released me to open his fly,
and I saw my chance. In a heartbeat I was on my feet and dashing for the door,
the twenty-dollar bill fluttering to the floor behind me.
My God...oh my God how I ran, until my breath tore at my throat in great heaving
gasps and I felt as though even the few sips of water I'd had that day would
come spewing from my lips. Frantically I looked behind, but to my relief I
found no one following.
I was alone. Very alone. Incredibly alone.
Suddenly I saw my life...the hunger, the fear, the cold rape of dignity and
flesh to which I'd exposed myself...and it no longer seemed to matter. Nothing
did.
Nothing.
Below me, beneath the cool splintered wood of the bridge, lay the calm, peaceful
waters of the bay, a pathway of stars swirling mirror-like on its
surface...calling to me...beckoning to me...promising me a better tomorrow.
Just a step, a slow waltz over the edge and the darkness would embrace me
forever...no more hurt, desperation, hunger... the end to a sadly botched
attempt at life.
The perfect solution.
And so I'd climbed the railing. My blissful release at hand...and drifted into
the arms of fate.
I returned then from the replay of my lost and fractured existence, and found
myself once more with my Captain on the shore by His beachfront cottage.
Silently I look into the eyes of my lover, my mind once again embracing the
memory of how He'd given me life and hope that night...a reason to live. Would
my emotional outpourings be manna to His ears, or would they throw the delicious
balance of our lives forever out of kilter? Again I taste the metallic taint of
fear on my tongue. Should I tell Him? Can I?
Silently I gather my timorous control about me and began to speak. My voice,
wavering and unsteady, seems to drown out the very sea in its magnitude...but I
continue. I have to.
"Captain?" I murmur, laying my head against his thigh, a shiver making its way
along my spine. "Do you remember when you...found...me? When you saved me?"
He nodded, his eyes soft and wondering, his hand tenderly stroking my hair.
"Yes." He replied. "How could I forget?"
Pausing, I nuzzle his thigh. "I'd reached a blank page that night...a darkness
that I couldn't bear to live in anymore...until I met you."
His hand stills now, spreading warmly against my back as if to say that I
needn't go on, but again I continue.
"Captain. I have to tell you...to tell you what our time together has meant to
me...how much you've meant..." I looked upwards now, hoping against hope that I
will still find my reflection intact and undamaged in his eyes...and it is.
Emboldened, I continue, my torment seeking release through my trembling lips.
"I need to tell you that even though you saved my life that night...what you did
afterwards gave me a reason to live it again. You've become my purpose for
existing...the reason I wake in the morning...take pleasure in even the most
seemingly trivial of life's delights...smile just for the pure joy of it. I
love you, my Captain...I love you."
I stop now, the words pounding in my head, my heart. Did He hear me...did He
want to? Was I even now a burden on His mind, a lover who has turned into
something unspeakable? I have to know...I have to.
Franticly I searched His eyes for the truth, but what I find does nothing to put
my mind to rest. There, deep in the hazel mystery of His gaze I find only more
questions, more uneasiness to torture my insecurities.
What is He thinking? Have I destroyed it all...have I? Like a house of cards I
feel my world shaking, tumbling around me.
What have I done?
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