Amber wasn't there to get drunk, anyway. The wine was merely an added dimension to soft light, warm cuddling and loving conversation. She usually ignored the presence of the statue-head and ignored Michael's private fantasies of continuing to share his life with a deceased person. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the warm bond between her and Michael that grew stronger every day.
Michael had been gone for over a week. He and Amber had much catching up to do in the department of late night romance. Soon they lay beside one another; kissing, touching, fondling and loving. He was so lucky to have her, a near replica of the Linsey of years ago. It was almost as-if Michael transported himself back in time to relive those days when he and Linsey were young. Of course Michael was much, more refined now than in his younger years; able to offer things such as gifts and money that he couldn't when Linsey was young. Unbeknown to the young Linsey who lay beside Michael, she had a teenage daughter who slept upstairs. And she lay on the sofa of her own home, a castle that sat on a small mountain in Sillmac. It's amazing what the mind can do if allowed. Exactly what is reality?
But she wasn't Linsey, Michael knew that. A fleeting fantasy or two never hurt anyone. Soon he returned to reality where a beautiful, young woman lay with him and very, much in love with him. And of course Michael loved his Amber more and more each day. She was the best thing that could have happened since Linsey died. But he wasn't quite ready to let go of his deceased wife.
“Well, I suppose we should call it a night. Let's go out for breakfast in the morning.”
Amber lay there with her face near his, eyes deeply fixed into Michael's and a soft smile with a glow. She wouldn't dare ask or appear to desire. But how she wished to have gone up to his room for the night, shared the bed and felt the warmth of his body.
Instead, that blasted statue-head of Linsey was carefully picked up and given a kiss to its cheek. “Well Linsey, it's been over a week since you've been to bed.”
There would be no further good night kisses for Amber and Michael as they went their separate ways for the night—not with Linsey in Michael's hands!
He was improving; this is how Amber felt at the moment. In a more extreme case, Michael would have pulled out the bottles of Pinot Noir that afternoon and showed them to Linsey—maybe even talked to her, “See what I got you, Linsey?” Instead, Michael kept the bottles in the grand foyer and brought them out at a more appropriate moment. Aside from that, it had only been a little over two months since Michael lost his wife. Amber was in an extremely rare situation. How lucky she was to not only be involved in a romantic relationship with Michael, but to live in his house and care for matters while he went away on business. Amber would gladly sleep in the guest room until the time was right.
* * *
Despite the romance and soft mood of the previous evening, along with mentions of maintaining commitment and patience—not to mention a slip of possible marriage from Michael—the following morning was a bit on the cold and unfriendly side. In fact, the following morning was as-if the previous evening never occurred.
This was a morning when the family was to go out for breakfast. Michael made mention of it the previous evening. Awakening at her usual time, Amber noticed that Trista remained sleeping which could have provided Amber a jump start on caring for Paulette. She quietly stepped out of the guest bedroom and immediately noticed the aroma of coffee hanging in the air. Michael was certainly downstairs, and there wasn't anyone Amber would have like to see more than the man she was so in love with. She lightly walked down the stairs and turned at the main level towards the kitchen. There Michael stood with a cup of coffee, looking out the kitchen window at the cold, early morning.
“Hi! Good morning!” Amber greeted softly, nearly whispering.
“Hey…” is all that Michael said.
It was still early. Maybe he needed his coffee. Amber approached and lightly rubbed her palm on his muscular back that was covered by a t-shirt. But he wasn't so receptive to her touch. What could have been wrong? Amber pulled her hand away and back to her own side.
Finally, Michael spoke. “I'm going to ask you something.”
“Sure…”
“Is Paulette okay?”
“Sure, Paulette's been fine. We got along great while you were gone. Why do you ask?”
“I don't know; something tells me that Paulette is having some trouble. I really need to get to the bottom of it, and I thought I would ask you. So is everything okay with her?”
Amber was speechless. Did Michael find out about Paulette's boyfriend? Did he talk to her earlier? Maybe she made something up to her father? It suddenly felt as though answering questions was dangerous. Maybe it was best to remain vague. “She seemed healthy and her usual self while you were gone. I stuck to the daily routine, and she hung out with me throughout the day. Michael, what's wrong? What makes you think Paulette is in trouble?”
The look on Michael's face was that of not trusting Amber and of not believing her. “I just want to make sure that if anything was wrong with Paulette, you would tell me.”
“Michael, of course! You have to believe me! She seemed fine the whole week!”
Michael remained silent; topped off his cup of coffee; walked past Amber, up the stairs and into his office where the door was shut.
It was a moment of extreme crisis for Amber. She failed and disappointed the man she loved. It was difficult not to panic while speculating the many possibilities. The only explanation for the moment was Paulette. Somehow Paulette must have communicated a wrongdoing of Amber's or something that she felt was mistreatment. The only natural course of action would have been to carefully approach Paulette on the matter. The seconds ticked away, and perhaps Amber's time was running out in the Dickly castle. It was best to do this now.
But Trista was calling out from her crib. There was now the responsibility of changing her night time diaper and fixing a bottle. And even while Trista finally lay by herself on Paulette's bed, drinking her morning bottle, it was necessary to wait for Paulette to finish her morning business. Everyone needs to relieve themselves after a night of sleep, and should do so unbothered.
After Paulette completed her morning business and was lowered into the tub, Amber sat down at the side and quietly spoke. “Paulette, I want to ask you something, and I really need an honest answer.”
Paulette's eyes spoke with truth in that moment as she nodded her head, yes. Whatever Amber needed, she would surely tell her. The two had gotten very close in recent weeks.
“Paulette, did you tell your father about your boyfriend?”
Paulette's eyes opened wide as she nodded her head, no.
“No? Did he talk to you about me, maybe ask how I am doing?”
Again, Paulette shook her head, no.
This was very strange for Amber. She was an intelligent, young woman with a strong sense of intuition. As far as Amber could see, the girl was telling the truth. So what might have alarmed Michael of Paulette's well being? Then again, maybe Paulette was a good actor.
The girl sensed Amber's sudden doubt and mistrust. She would have to wait until fully dressed and waiting to have her hair blow-dried so that she could turn to the computer and monitor, indicating a need to say something.
When that time came, Amber rolled the cart over and stuck a pencil in Paulette's mouth. Was she going to confess? Was she going to give a warning?
“Why would I tell my father? He would never let me have Todd! Why don't you believe me?”
The girl was right. This boyfriend of hers meant too much, and she certainly wouldn't jeopardize the relationship by telling Father. “I'm sorry, Paulette. I believe you now. I'm just really scared. Your father was asking me some serious questions, like I had done something wrong to you. He never came up to you in private and asked about me?”
“No. Nothing.”
“What about being able to see your emails? Can he log in? Does he have your password?”
“No, he doesn't go on
line. He has no reason to. He probably wouldn't know how.” This was true for the early 90s. Believe it or not, a business could be run without email and the Internet. Of course a few years later, these things would be a necessity.
Although frightened and in a panic, Amber had a way to see things so very clearly in that moment. Michael had seen nothing on his computer. Paulette had spoken not one word about her boyfriend, or mentioned any false wrongdoings of Amber. In fact nothing alive or physically noticeable had caused Michael to be suspicious of Amber. It was the blasted statue-head of Linsey! Somehow the relic had the power to bring clairvoyance to Michael. Linsey warned her Earthly husband overnight of a possible danger, and it involved Amber.
Chapter Fourteen
After a day-or-so, Michael returned to his usual self. One might have assumed his sudden mistrust of Amber to be only misdirected guilt. He was so much in love with Amber, and it had only been a little over two months since Linsey's death. How else should a grieving husband react in such a difficult time?
But Amber knew better! Perhaps Michael did believe he had a spell of misguided guilt and made a conscious effort to correct this. And it was good for Amber that Michael made this erroneous conclusion. She knew very well that Linsey warned her Earthly husband of his new lover. And perhaps Linsey was right in doing so. Maybe Amber wasn't acting responsibly during Michael's absence. Perhaps allowing Paulette to have an online romance wasn't in the teenage girl's best interest. Amber considered these things, and decided that going forward, she would “filter” the emails to Paulette; briefly skim through the long-distance love letters for anything that would be considered objectionable.
As was the usual daily ritual, Paulette would return to her bedroom after breakfast and allow Amber to dial up online. But one December morning, while Michael was still home and a couple weeks from leaving for his next trip, Amber sat down with Paulette for a brief talk before checking email.
“I'm not trying to get into your business, but I'm going to start skimming your emails from Todd, just to make sure he isn't trying to hurt you or anything.”
Paulette maintained a blank stare in return.
“It'll just help keep my conscience clear. I'm supposed to be taking care of you while your father is gone. Well, instead I'm letting you talk to a stranger online. Again, I'm going to stay out of your business as best as I can, but I want to briefly screen your emails, that's all. Please try to understand.”
Paulette really had no choice in the matter. She was paralyzed and dependent on Amber for many things. All she could do was go along with the new rule.
As expected, an email from Todd was in Paulette's mailbox. Amber opened it to quickly skim through before turning the computer cart towards Paulette. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary with the email. In fact, it was quite boring. Most of the email was Todd's self-praising of himself for another great workout completed at the gym and how he pumped his biceps. The workout was followed by a lengthy cruise in his ninja-style crotch rocket, and then wrapped up with a couple beers at home. Then he mentioned some friction between himself and a coworker, revealing a secret need to lash out all those things learned at the dojo (martial arts school) on his coworker. Todd had a black belt in some kind of martial arts and felt it was his duty to “teach people lessons” who didn't know how to respect others. From what Amber could make of it, Todd was being a bit unfair and immature with the office conflict. It was only a silly misunderstanding between him and a coworker. No wonder Todd was single!
The email concluded with a final, two-sentence paragraph, mentioning how great it was that Paulette's father had given her a nice pendant. It was the only interaction in the email between Todd and Paulette. Paulette was nothing more than a diary for Todd that might have occasionally responded to his daily stories and self-praise. How boring! Maybe Paulette would grow tired of the one-sided relationship.
“Okay, it seems like a safe email to me. I don't know what I'm worried about.” Paulette was left alone to read.
Of course Amber would continue to skim the boring emails that were written by a pathetically, self-absorbed nerd-gone-macho. It was all done for Linsey in hopes that Michael would receive no further warnings.
And then came the morning of December 19th, the day when Michael was scheduled to leave for another business trip, to be home by the 23rd. More money was given to Amber (as-if she didn't have enough already!) followed by hugs and kisses to Amber and Paulette before leaving in the limousine.
Being that the family stayed downstairs with Michael after breakfast, it was necessary for poor Paulette to wait until after eleven o'clock in the morning to finally read her anticipated, daily email from Todd. Amber loaded her onto the wheelchair lift and brought the girl upstairs. Then Amber dialed up online like every morning and opened the mailbox to read another boring email from Todd.
But today's email was not boring! After the first paragraph, Amber's jaw dropped as she turned to Paulette and asked, “Has he ever sent you something like this before?”
Paulette had yet to read the daily email from Todd and didn't have a clue as to what Amber referred to.
“No… No, no, no; I'm not going to let you see this!”
The look provided by Paulette questioned Amber, “What right do you have to withhold an email from my boyfriend?”
This took Amber off guard. How was she going to handle a situation like this? It was Amber's duty to filter the emails and ensure that nothing harmful would reach Paulette. But on the other hand, she could see the demand in Paulette's eyes to read the email. “Okay; look, I can't keep you from seeing this. All I'm going to say is that you might not want to read an email like this. Have you ever heard of Pandora's Box?”
Agitated, Paulette nodded her head, yes.
“Honey, that's what this is! If you read this, there'll be no turning back. I actually think it might be cruel if I showed this to you.”
Paulette insisted with an intense, demanding look. And despite how against Amber was with email, she turned the computer cart towards Paulette. Surely, Linsey rolled over in her grave at that moment!
Before describing the email of that morning, it's best for the reader to understand the sort of individuals who existed on the Internet back in the early 1990s. Today, in modern times, if you happen to enter the wrong sort of social area on the Internet—such as a filthy, lowlife chat room—you will encounter nothing more than tasteless messages that reveal immature perceptions of sex.
I suppose if you are one of those women who have an uncontrollable, instinctive desire to suddenly add thug to your family gene pool, then you might respond to such a message; to which you would soon receive demands for nude photos of yourself, maybe a video or web cam of you performing shameful acts on yourself. If you are lucky, the interested person might actually want to meet you in real life. And I suppose if you wish for STDs or perhaps an abnormal spawn of such a thug, then you might take him up on the offer.
But in the early 1990s, computers weren't exactly a common household appliance like they are today. It was most often educated people and those who could afford such a luxury that owned a computer and went online. But don't fool yourself! Sex happens in every time and in every place. Sex certainly did happen online in the early 1990s, and it was done in the form of emails with descriptive paragraphs that were crafted to titillate the other party. And there were even individuals such as Todd, who could have easily qualified as trashy romance novelists.
Todd's introductory email of erotica was a suggestion to take the online correspondence to the next level. It was his attempt to reach across the hundreds of miles and create a nearly-tangible reality where he and Paulette could exist in.
Paulette's face blushed throughout several parts of the email, reading of how her boyfriend would kiss her passionately, touch and explore various parts of her body, and just about everything else that a paralyzed girl shouldn't have read or imagined.
What had Amber done? This was so cruel! Surely Pau
lette was incapable of extinguishing any desire after reading such an erotic email. And to make matters worse, she would surely respond to Todd with a little story of her own. But did Paulette have any idea of the consequences? It would be pure torture for the girl. Amber was going to have to act quickly!
Mother and Father would have never assisted Paulette in that capacity. And in no way was Amber going to help, either! Aside from that, no one probably mentioned the act to Paulette. Who would teach her?
Well that was a silly question! No one is ever taught how to do it! Simply out of basic need, all creatures figure out their own technique. But while considering these things, Amber asked herself, “If I was paralyzed from the neck, down, how could I do it? Even more, can a paralyzed person feel it?”
Later that evening, while tucking Paulette in bed, Amber presented a most-strange item that one wouldn't immediately associate with bedtime. But as Amber described, this item could be useful late at night. It was one of those backscratchers that Father purchased at a souvenir shop while on vacation. Amber altered the souvenir so that a doll rod extension had been secured to the handle with electrical tape.
“You know Paulette, the other night I was laying in bed and thought of you. I had gotten a bad itch on my leg and immediately scratched it. Then I realized that you wouldn't be able to do this, not with your condition. So I found this for you and added the extension so it can be held in your mouth and used to scratch whatever you want. I'm going to tuck it under the covers with you and lay it on your pillow. That way, if you ever have a terrible itch, say maybe near your thigh or someplace, you can put the handle in your mouth and scratch where it is needed.”
Paulette returned the queerest look! What in the world was Amber talking about?
The Death Mask Page 11
