Lesson Learned- Mission Report 1

by G J Stevens

  “No,” I replied with only a slight pause.

  “Then I’d better not tell you what he wants to do next,” she replied, her wide grin having returned.

  “What?”

  “Maybe I was a little untruthful when I said I could satisfy him, on my own at least,” she burst in to giggles, but I kept my face straight, my brow remaining furrowed.

  I had no idea what she meant.

  “Anyway, that’s enough about me. Oh, and please don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. No matter what you think.”

  “Of course not,” I replied, knowing it was a lie; knowing I’d pass on the key bit of intelligence as soon as I could.

  We walked for a good hour, not revisiting the details of her trip again. We headed deeper into the woods which seemed to be never ending, only turning back when we realised how far we’d gone and the dog hadn’t shown even the first signs of tiring.

  Following the long path back, we split with a peck on each cheek as the hard-packed mud turned to gravel between the houses.

  “Same time tomorrow?” Alarica said.

  “Sure,” I replied, “but this time can I ask Celina if the kids can come along?”

  She looked at me with her eyebrow raised. I looked back with a slight smile and she knew I was planning something.

  “Okay,” she replied and turned with a kiss blown in my direction.

  Arriving back at the house, I watched Lenart snoring in his chair. Someone had switched the TV off and beside him a tall bottle sat half drained of its brown contents. Whoever had turned off the TV must have removed the glass from his hand as he slept, his fingers still circled around the missing round shape.

  With the rest of the house silent, I found Celina in the garden with her feet curled under her and gaze fixed on a trashy paperback in her hand. Still she spotted me as I stood in the open doorway and beckoned me out, waving with the book still in her hand.

  She continued to read as I crossed the short grass and I spotted the empty bottle at the foot of the bench. It nestled next to two glasses. One empty, the other at the half mark.

  “Did you get lost?” she said, folding the corner of the page.

  “No, but that beast of a dog takes some walking. I’d never seen those woods before. It would be so easy to get lost.”

  “They look scary to me,” she replied, looking for her glass.

  “Oh, but I love it,” I replied. “You only have to walk for a few minutes and you feel like you’re in another world. It’s so secluded, so private. You could get up to anything out there.”

  Celina’s head snapped up, her eyes pinching as a smile grew on her face.

  “We should get a dog,” she replied, knocking back the last of the wine.

  12

  The very next afternoon Celina, the children and I set off with Alarica, soon joined by Lenara hobbling down the path when she saw the size of the expedition.

  She linked arms with Celina, marvelling at the view as the children took it in turns to take control of the dog, handing back when his power proved too much.

  By the end of the hour-long excursion, I’d fired up the children with the intended energy and motivation, knowing they had to join forces with their step mum and apply full bargaining power and emotional blackmail to their father.

  Still, he blamed me.

  Later that evening he’d somehow raised himself from his whiskey-fuelled slumber after the heavy meal; a meal at which I’d avoided his eye contact as the children and Celina drove up the pressure. With dessert, a steamed mess of cake and custard, he ended with a great smile and proclaimed they would go next weekend and visit some pups.

  I found out soon after it had all been for show. With tangy breath I smelt before I saw him, he cornered me in the utility room as I sorted washing. I hadn’t seen the children since dinner, Celina a short while ago, likely in bed watching TV or dozing off the two bottles from dinner she hadn’t been allowed to share; Lenart had already made it clear. The hired help doesn’t drink at dinner.

  If only he knew the strength and training I held in my wrists. What I lacked in bulk I gained from coaching by the very best. He didn’t know this as he stepped closer, all the while telling me I had to be a good girl and do as he said or there would be consequences.

  He wouldn’t let me bend his family to my will.

  Instead of lashing out, locking his head under my arm and smashing it with a single blow against the counter, I hung my face with fear, eyes widening, breath drawing in short bursts.

  Still, he came forward and watched, his mouth curling as my eyes dropped to the obvious bulge at his crotch, my thoughts faltering just for a second.

  Not you, too, for goodness’s sake.

  “Do you enjoy being told off?” he said.

  I shook my head.

  “I bet you’re wetter than an otter’s pocket,” he slurred, jumping forward, his arms lunging in a pincer.

  I let a gasp slip and dived under his arms, his senses too dulled to react.

  Jumping through the doorway, I cast a glance at my back to see he’d barely reacted, turning only as I let the door slam. That was the point I decided he had to be dealt with.

  Wedging my bedroom door against a night time revisit, I made my plans.

  It was easy to avoid him in the morning; with the working week ahead he’d be back into his routine of early mornings and late nights passed out in front of the TV.

  But I couldn’t rely on that alone. I couldn’t rely on evasion and there was no way I could let him think he could touch me.

  I’d break it off and stuff it down his throat before I’d let that thing anywhere near me.

  No. My approach would be more subtle and give me control.

  In normal circumstances I’d set up a drop off for what I wanted, but I’d already been told I was on my own.

  I didn’t need any supplies to Observe and Report. Instead, I had to make my own contacts who could get what I needed and in a large enough quantity.

  On the morning trip with Alarica to the supermarket, I spoke with her about an occasional bout of sleeplessness and she was quick to offer a solution. Knocking on the door only five minutes after our trip, she handed me a small clear plastic bag of five pills.

  Xanax, she explained, and I listened with intent as she told me the dose for a good night’s sleep with a warning to avoid alcohol or I’d wake with a devil of a hangover.

  “Sounds familiar,” I said, laughing. She joined in.

  Within the hour I’d crushed two down to a powder and poured them in the half-full bottle of brown liquor from the cabinet in the lounge, the tablets soon dispersing. Two glasses should be all he would have of an evening and would keep him out of trouble, but I’d need a bigger supply if this was my longer-term solution.

  A few days later and on what had now become our regular lone dog walk each afternoon, I questioned Alarica on how she’d got the tablets, telling her how well they’d worked.

  After warning of their addictive nature and that I should only have two or three a week, she explained they were prescription only, unless you knew a friend.

  “You make friends quickly,” I said. “You’ve only been in town for two months.”

  “Okay. Maybe not friends, but I know where to get this stuff from. I can get you anything you want.”

  “Like?” I replied, trying my best to maintain my innocence.

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re a virgin at that, too? Did your parents lock you away while you grew up?”

  “I’ve never tried drugs, if that’s what you mean. Do you use drugs?” I said, giving a worried puppy-dog frown.

  “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not an addict. It’s just sometimes nice to add a little extra into the mix, or maybe you might need something and don’t want to go to the local quack.”

  “Like sleeping pills. I get it.”

  “Or something to help keep it up all the way into the night,” she replied, smirking. “Look, I’ll get more for you tomorrow.
”

  “Shall I come with you?”

  “No. I say they’re my friends, but they’re not. They’ll eat you alive and not in a good way,” she replied.

  I gave her a blank look.

  “Oh yeah, I guess you’ve never done that either.”

  I continued with my blank reply and she changed the subject.

  By the morning we’d agreed that I would come along, but only into the town where they’d do the deal. I’d wait in the shops whilst she went off.

  We took the Bukia’s car and drove the half hour to the next town over, parking beside a strip mall of fifteen single-storey shops in what I could tell was not the nicest part of town. We went our separate ways on leaving the car; I headed to a convenience store and she walked along the mall front.

  In the store I took off my short bomber jacket, turning it inside out, switching from the bright red to a dark navy blue, its design showing no difference. I pulled a baseball cap from my pocket and wound my hair in a tight pony, stuffing it under the hat after pushing on thick-rimmed sunglasses.

  I was back out along the strip quick enough to see her disappear around the edge of the front and I followed her quick pace. Catching sight as I turned the corner, I watched as she headed down a long street, her head swishing side to side. She was observing, most likely looking for the police and not one of her friends following.

  Her observations continued as she walked, turning this way and that down streets and alleys, making me close up to within five car lengths to stop from losing her. Still, I lost sight as she turned another corner. She’d headed right down a long line of houses, the streets lined with trash overflowing from their round metal cans. Broken glass littered the road; glass from the streetlights, I realised as I looked upward.

  The street looked as if the town authorities were told to avoid the area unless they had police along for the ride. I took these observations in just a second. She was the only thing missing from the picture and I had to walk on.

  I couldn’t stand in the street glancing around or someone would soon notice me as being out of place.

  It was then I heard a door slam at my back and I crossed the road, using the opportunity to catch Alarica in my peripheral vision to my left.

  Taking a second glance at the door she’d just come from, it was one of many which had glass missing, but the only one where both panels were filled with low grade, flaked wooden board.

  I had my back to her and I was heading in the wrong direction. She’d expect to meet me back at the mall, but to react now would mean almost certain compromise if anyone watched.

  All I could do was walk on, turning right at the next intersection, pulling my coat off and running as fast as I could whilst picking out the new streets and judging the right direction to take.

  I arrived back at the mall, diving into the first shop on the opposite end from where I’d left. I turned my coat, tucked it in on itself so you couldn’t see the dark navy and tried to slow my breath, standing near the air conditioner to cool from the flat-out sprint.

  My breath slowed when in through the door she came.

  “There you are,” she said. “Now I didn’t expect to find you in here.”

  I took my first look at the shelves and tried to hide my alarm as all I saw were lace knickers, long silk basques and in front of me a rainbow of sex toys wrapped in plastic.

  “And that’s cute,” she replied, nodding up to my head. “You’re trying to hide yourself. These guys don’t care.”

  I pulled off the cap and let my hair fall to the side, tucking the glasses back in my pocket.

  “So what are you after?” a middle-aged assistant said, approaching us.

  Alarica turned to look at me in anticipation. “She’s shy,” she said when I didn’t answer.

  “Don’t be silly,” the heavily made up woman said. “We’re all adults. Is it something for you or someone else?”

  I stood, dumbfounded, unable to speak.

  “I’ll deal with this,” Alarica said. “She’s not with anyone at the moment. So something for her.”

  The assistant’s face brightened, ushering me over to a wall covered in long, thick rubber objects more like instruments of torture than pleasure.

  “Something small for now,” Alarica said, then turned to me. “Start small,” she repeated, softer this time and nodded towards the assistant.

  13

  The day ended with a bag full of Xanax the size of my fist and a stubby pink toy, neither of which Alarica would let me pay for. I’d also made a resolution to run again each day, as I had since I was young. Plus now I had a future source of supply for anything illicit, although the supplier had no idea I might be calling.

  From the back of the wardrobe, buried with my cold weather clothes and other things I didn’t yet need, I dug out my sports gear the following morning. With the Xanax hidden in a pink sports bottle, I headed out on my first morning run since I’d arrived in this place, timing my departure with the first shards of the light starting across the wide horizon.

  With the click of the front door settling back into its space, the rev of Lenart’s engine dissipating down the road, it felt so right back in trainers and the familiar feeling of walking on air. I loved the freedom of the loose shorts and thin vest with air rushing past me as I powered between the houses and into the darkness of the canopy, whilst fighting the strain on my lungs I’d let slip out of shape.

  Running along the path, I counted a slow rhythm. The five minutes of pumping my legs so hard would have three months ago powered me over a kilometre, but by the panting of my breath this distance would be considerably less.

  I stopped, letting my lungs catch as I read the landmarks before fixing on the large oak in the distance, its gnarled branches looking like the fingers of an old man as they spread out. Taking a left, I stepped from the path and over brambles and thickets, fern and foliage for another five minutes. At the base of a distinctive wide tree I could just make out from the path, I buried the contents of the bottle in fallen leaves before retracing my steps.

  Arriving back at the house, it would seem I’d been missed, the time longer than I’d intended. The children were already on their way to school, leaving Celina alone in the house. She sat in the living room in her silk gown with a cup of coffee in her hand. Her eyebrow raised as I walked through the door and her comment came as no surprise.

  “So you’ve been getting hot and sweaty without me.”

  I laughed and ran up the stairs, locking myself away with fresh clothes and a towel. Ignoring the soft knock at the door, I let the water run on as I changed into my morning’s clothes.

  She sat at the top of the stairs as I opened the door, her face a picture of disappointment when she saw my state of full dress.

  “You’re no fun,” she said and stormed up the next set of stairs.

  She came back down within half an hour and stood beside me at the sink, now dressed in a short tennis skirt and a thin white top holding firm against her breasts. Her perfume smelt divine.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, edging closer. “I’m just a little frustrated at the moment. He’s neglecting my needs.”

  I turned towards her and she spoke again.

  “Not that he satisfies them anyway.”

  Guilt tightened across my chest. It sounded like my plans had been working a little too well for her liking.

  Twice Celina had woken in the night to find Lenart still asleep in his chair downstairs. He’d exploded with fury when he woke, venting his mix of the drug-clouded hangover and anger at being left to sleep downstairs.

  I vowed to use the same number of tablets on the next bottle, but this time it would be full, so half the potency. The bottle already stood in the cupboard, ready for the first drink to crack the seal so I could add the special ingredient.

  “I guess he’s just busy at work,” I said, drying my hands as the sink drained.

  “Ha,” she scoffed. “He’s a lazy bastard,” she replied, then
paused. “Sorry I shouldn’t speak of him like that.” She stopped again. “But he is.”

  “You’re his wife,” I replied, closing the door under the sink. “He should be looking after you.” For the first time I looked into her damp eyes.

  “Yes,” she said softly, letting her breath empty, her eyes boring deep into mine. “I’ll tell you about that sometime.”

  “I’m here now,” I replied, my words soft, raising my eyebrows in the long pause as I silently urged her to open up.

  She’d been hounding me, but for the first time I realised maybe it wasn’t for a cheap thrill. Perhaps she wanted a connection, a companion. Someone to be close with.

  Taking two steps, I leant forward. She opened her arms and accepted the embrace. Nuzzling her head into my neck, I could feel her tears on my warm skin.

  We held as I took a slow deep breath, my shoulders relaxing as tension seemed to flow from us both.

  She turned her head, pecking me on the cheek. I twisted toward her and our lips met. Her touch so gentle.

  Drawing my head back, I couldn’t help but smile and planted my lips to hers again, breathing in gentle peppermint as we opened our mouths still locked together.

  Celina leant in with more force and I replied, increasing my pressure against her with our heads angling in opposite directions. Her tongue touched against mine as they swirled together. Feeling her hand move, she stroked down my back, tracing the arch until her palm planted with a firm grip on my ass.

  A fire raged inside my stomach. Heat prickled between my legs. Her touch electrified my skin as her hand slipped under my shirt to the small of my back. She pushed in closer. I pushed back, my leg slipping between hers where warmth radiated out like a bonfire.

  She let out a groan and pulled her hand around to the front of my bra setting off fireworks as my nipples pushed against her fingers.

  I drew back from her embrace, breath panting as I teetered close to diving back in.

  My head shook. “No,” I said, watching her struggle with her breath, eyes wide and doughy with warmth. Her mouth stood open as if still in the kiss. “I can’t. This isn’t right.”