by L. B. Dunbar
We were separated at one point, and it gave me time to explore, which was how I noticed the French doors, the open patio, and the lawn that was a long expanse down to the black inky waters of Lake Avalon. How often we swam as children, in hopes to be clean. How we ran across this grass that was once dead and barren. How clearly that night haunted my memory.
I eventually found my way back to the main entrance with its grand staircase leading upward. I couldn’t have stepped one foot on a stair, despite the draw. I don’t know what I was curious about up there. Even if the room had been changed, decorated, and dressed up as each room was presently, with rich bright Persian rugs and fresh coats of dark paint, it would still be the same room. It would still be the place where I was stolen. I didn’t dare to wander upstairs.
“You don’t look quite how I remember you, child,” a gravelly voice, sounding like it smoked a hundred cigarettes startled me. To my left was my Uncle Roy in a wheelchair. He had eventually regained his strength in body and mind, but the loss of the use of his legs was permanent. His white hair was slicked back, his skin weathered, and his eyes bright.
“You look rather tempting,” his voice wasn’t seductive, but direct. He was being honest.
“You must be careful, Holli. You know that you are coveted by many, but only few have come close to discovering you.”
I didn’t know what he meant, other than the men that had already taken me. I began to worry that maybe he wasn’t of sound mind after all. As he was sick often and the home was in despair, so was Roy Fisher. He often mumbled of prophesies, family lineage, and protected treasure. We didn’t know what he was trying to say, as most of it was muttered during high fevers. When I was a child, he claimed there was treasure on these lands, but only the right person could find it and possess it. It was when we were kids that Lansing Lotte tried to open that iron door, to no avail, in hopes of finding a hidden treasure below.
I stood with my arms crossed over my bare stomach, suddenly cold and uncomfortable in my costume; the silly mask that I thought would disguise me for one night. For one night, I could look the image of the seductress that I was so often labeled and actually feel sexy. That was just it. I was told I was tempting, but I didn’t feel the temptress. I felt dirty from what Jordan had done. I felt repulsed from Michael.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man,” I said in a familiar tone I’d used with him as a teenager. Talking back had become a habit, albeit subtle. I was petulant when he called me ‘child.’ He was good-natured in my response to him in the past. He was less so at that moment.
“Yes, you do, my dear. Yes, you do.”
I had a hard time reconciling that I was a treasure to anyone. Stolen property was more like it. The men who had taken from me made me feel more like booty from a pirate’s ransacking than any precious item. Perkins, on the other hand, made me feel worshiped. He made me feel clean.
“You speak like I’m an object.”
“You aren’t, child, but you are worth plenty. Priceless. You need to find someone who values you and protects you at all cost.”
“I’m with someone. He’s good to me,” I defended.
“You must be careful, as all men will want something from you, child. They want what you can give them.”
“And what is that?” I asked
Roy didn’t answer. We both turned in the direction of a sound to my right, opposite the stairs in the cavernous entry. There stood Perkins.
I returned my gaze to my uncle, who glared at Perk.
“He did not ask.”
“What was he to ask?” I replied, feeling the old sense of craziness this man could possess.
“He needs to be the one to ask.” Roy waited. Perk stared. With a huff, Roy reversed the wheels of his chair and backed away from me.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, child. The One is still to come.” He smiled almost sinisterly, but it didn’t match the rest of his pleasant elderly face. He had grown old, well before his time. He gave a final scowl at Perk and rolled away, forcing me to turn and face Perk.
We stared at one another for a moment. He was hesitant, awkward. It was like that first night when he brought me to his home. When I thought he was another man there to kidnap me, take from me, and he turned out to be anything but that. He stood before me waiting. He wasn’t going to take; he wanted me to give, willingly. I took one step toward him and his shoulders began to relax. Another step forward and his hands twitched at his sides, in that clenching and unclenching motion he did. One final step forward and I was in his space. My hands lay flat on his chest and he pulled me to him.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said quietly.
His hold was tight as he enveloped me in his warmth. I breathed in the scent of him: woodsy, clean. It seemed exaggerated as we were in the woods, and I inhaled deeply in hopes to clear my head. One palm flattened on my lower back, while the other covered my hair on the back of my head. He was holding me like he wanted to pull me inside him and keep me there.
“I’m sorry,” his voice trembled, and I shook my head against his firm chest.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” I answered.
“There’s so much to be sorry for,” he countered. “I should have asked, but I don’t know what he wants me to say.”
I didn’t know either, and I didn’t care to continue speaking. I just wanted him to hold onto me.
Perk escorted me back into the party, where we mingled casually. He seemed as uncomfortable as me and we eventually found ourselves outside the milieu of partygoers in a corner or against a wall. We talked softly to one another, sharing memories of happier times in and around Lake Avalon. Childhood recollections of games played like, Ghost in the Graveyard, and teenage escapades of swimming in the dark were shared. There was some ruckus outside in the yard between Lansing Lotte and several women, which we occasionally glanced out at, but ignored. It was almost midnight when Perk suggested we leave, and all hell broke loose.
All Hallow’s Eve…
[Hollister]
Perk was ready to say his good-byes. He’d found Tristan, who embraced him in a guy hug, and there seemed to be a new understanding between the two of them. He was looking for Lansing, whom we learned had already left when we found Guinevere DeGrance. I hadn’t met her but once during the evening. Her mask was removed and her face was pale. I’d seen that look on many women’s faces. She was fortunate, she wasn’t physically abused, but she held a broken heart, nonetheless. I recalled that Perk told me she had lost a baby, and my own heart cried out to her to comfort her. No woman should suffer such pain.
Guinie, as she was called by those closest to her, seemed a bit frazzled, as a friend of hers had disappeared from the party. She explained to Perk that there had been an altercation between Elaine, herself, and the girl named Layne. It all centered around Lansing, who had escaped the party earlier. She was suddenly concerned that something had happened to Layne. The night was a deep black, and the woods near the home, surrounding the lake, were dense. I remembered. The lake was inky and a fog was slowly rolling toward the land, as if ready to invade the large lawn. The wind rustled in a haunting way that was only fitting of Halloween night. An eerie feeling covered my skin and gooseflesh rose.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Perkins asked authoritatively.
“An hour ago. We were all outside,” Guinie’s meek voice responded.
“What happened?”
“There was a misunderstanding, of sorts. Lansing was trying to explain himself to Layne, and Elaine was trying to get Lansing’s attention, and all hell broke loose. Layne ran off in the direction of the woods.”
My heart raced. It couldn’t happen again, could it?
“Did you call Lansing?”
“No. I…I can’t talk to him, right now,” Guinie’s voice trembled. Heartbreak was in her tone. There was something she wasn’t telling us.
Perk had his phone out and was pressing buttons after there
was no answer from Lansing.
“Sheriff?” Perk asked and Guinie shook her head.
Perk dialed again. My heart almost jumped out of my skin. It couldn’t be like this again.
Elliott Corbin, Elaine’s brother, entered the room, making eye contact with Perkins and shaking his head.
As more people gathered, and Guinie retold the story, expressing her concern, I slipped further and further back from the crowd.
Memories flashed of being carried. Then being forced to run, barefoot through the dark woods.
My hand covered my chest, as if I could hold my heart inside as it leapt under my skin. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, and I ran for the small powder room under the main stairs.
I wasn’t sure how long I was in there. It felt like only minutes, but it could have been hours. Time stood still as a flood of images came over me: the stifling heat of the tent, the vulgar breath of Jordan, the unimaginable pain of his hits. I gripped the edge of the sink to hold myself steady.
I hadn’t vomited, although the bile churned inside my stomach. I looked at myself in the large mirror over the sink and cursed. Under the bare skin of my stomach, my insides rolled, but outside I looked the part. I suddenly hated my costume, and I ripped the mask from my face. I wasn’t fooling anyone. I could dress the part and never feel sexy. I could not dress the part and be taken for sex.
I banged a hand on the edge of the sink, fighting back tears, when a knock tapped on the door.
“Hollister?” the concerned voice of Perk permeated through the heavy wood. “Hollister, please be in there.”
My heart ached as I wanted to give myself to this man, in body and mind, but I couldn’t clear my head.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I said, trying to sound pleasant, although it felt false.
The knob of the door jiggled.
“Let me in, Hollister,” he said, with the tone of authority he’d used moments ago to begin the investigation for Layne.
“Let me in,” he said, as if his lips were suddenly on the door, and he was begging me for more than just opening the wood that separated us.
I reached to unlock the handle without looking away from myself in the mirror. The door opened and shut swiftly, and then his presence filled the small space. It was a powder room. One small sink, one toilet, space for one person, but here he was forcing it to hold two.
His hands touched my shoulders and I flinched. He removed them, and I saw him in the mirror, clenching and unclenching those large hands at this sides. I didn’t allow my eyes to reach his.
“What happened?” he asked softly. “What’s going on here?”
I paused and then decided the truth would be best.
“It was all too much. Layne missing. The dark night. I…I can’t seem to shut off my mind.” I continued to grip the edge of the sink as if I needed it to hold me down; to keep me steady from the fear of my heart bursting like a grenade, and leaving Perk covered in shrapnel.
“I want to forget,” I whispered. “I want it to go away. But each time I get close, it comes back. It all comes back for me.” I swallowed hard the words. Perk wasn’t saying anything. I figured he was going to walk out the door when I said nothing further. Then his hands touched my lower back.
He moved slowly, tenderly, spreading his palms wide, and letting his fingers stretch over my skin. He slid them upward to my shoulder blades, over my shoulders, and then rubbed down each arm respectively.
“I’m upset that Elaine stole my words,” he said quietly. “This outfit makes you look radiant.”
I shivered, as I wasn’t prepared for a compliment. I didn’t want to be reminded of the way I looked.
“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, Hollister. Do you know that? I’ve. Ever. Seen.” He continued, “You are all I see when I close my eyes at night, and all I want to see when I open them in the morning.”
“Sunshine of my love,” he said, hinting at the song. “You radiate and I’m drawn to you.”
His hands circled my wrists, and then he returned his journey back up to my shoulders. He rubbed gently, massaging at the tension.
“But it’s more than radiating on the outside.”
His eyes reflected to me in the mirror. They were black with desire.
“It glows from inside you. Your goodness. Your work. You do the most amazing things for others. Selflessly.”
A tear escaped my eye and trailed down my cheek. He wiped at it by reaching around me, and then he twisted me to face me.
“Let me be the one to take the memories?” he asked. His hands returned to my shoulders but quickly slipped down to my hands. Holding each of them, he knelt before me.
“Let me treat you like the treasure you are.” His breath was warm on my stomach and he kissed me lightly, a soft peck. His mouth opened to suck softly across the skin under the gold chain.
“Let me make new memories that show you how I feel.”
My hands were on his head, rubbing back and forth over his short hair, and I nodded. I wanted that. I wanted him to take me. I wanted him to take away the bad memories.
His hands reached my hips over the silky veils, and he slowly gathered them in his fists. The layers and layers spread, but not enough, and finally he reached for the center and tugged them aside. He ran his nose over the silk undergarment that held the veils together at the waist. I sucked in air at the sensation. No man’s face had been that close to me down there. He blew air on me, and my legs voluntarily opened, spreading to allow him access to my most private parts. He rubbed a finger over the material, across my warmth.
“You’re wet. For me?” It was a question he knew the answer to, and then he asked another.
“Let me taste you?”
I nodded, but he wasn’t watching me. He was staring at my lower body as he slid aside the moistened panty, hot breath on me again, and I whimpered, “Yes”.
His tongue was hesitant at first. He lapped at me delicately as if he wasn’t certain of the flavor, but immediately must have decided he liked the taste. His large tongue covered me in a long stroke that buckled my knees. I bent and his hands gripped my hips to hold me upright, pinned against the sink. On one knee, he knelt and sucked my sensitive nub into his mouth. I almost shouted out at the sensation as my eyes rolled back. I bit my lip to keep the sound from escaping. I was clasping his head as it moved back and forth, lapping, licking, loving me. The sensation shot up my legs from my toes, and my thighs tightened. I clenched his face between my legs and let loose the largest release I’d ever known.
He continued to drink me in as I whispered the word, “Enough.” Then a finger entered me and I felt the flutter instantly begin. I had nothing to hold onto, and I grabbed his ears to steady myself. Another finger slipped into me and his tongue flicked over my already oversensitive nub. He stroked the folded skin and I burst forth again. I bent at the waist, as if I could pull him into me by covering him, and my hands slipped down his broad back. I scraped my fingernails upward, taking clumps of his cotton t-shirt with me as I rose upward.
“Oh my, Perkins,” I breathed, as he lapped at me one final time and then pulled back. He kissed me. Literally, kissed me below and then stood to face me.
I had no words as he stood before me with his lips moistened from me. He smiled slowly, crooking up one side of his mouth, very satisfied with himself. I lunged at him to take that smile, bringing it into me by covering his lips to taste myself on him.
All Soul’s Day…
[Perkins]
Layne Ascolat was dead. We’d been awake all night, waiting with Lansing and Guinie, in hopes of something positive but had no luck. She had taken a large wooden canoe, one I couldn’t imagine her thin frame had the strength to move, and pushed it into the darkened lake waters. Fog came in slowly the night before and she was lost. The search had to cease due to a lack of visibility, but in the early morning hours, as sunshine burned off the haze, the canoe was found with Layne inside.
I couldn
’t believe it was intentional, although that was immediately the rumor. Lansing hadn’t left the edge of the water all night, and his pale face confirmed the fear. There was something I was missing. I was surprised how cold Lansing was toward Guinevere, who seemed equally concerned. Her crossed arms seemed to hold her upright, but I could see that she would break with the smallest of touch. She had been through too much in two months. Loss of Arturo. Loss of a baby. Loss of a friend.
Tristan was better at trying to comfort her than I was. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t try. It was that I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t good at these types of situations. I hadn’t known loss like this before losing Arturo. My father was someone I never knew. His loss was something I didn’t recollect as he was permanently out of my life. I had no memory of him or his death.
I didn’t know Layne, but I felt sad all the same. I was heartbroken for Lansing, who I wasn’t sure had loved her or not, but seemed to take the blame for her death. We all agreed to return to the city immediately. I followed Lansing in order to make sure he arrived safely. He could be reckless with speed, and I couldn’t risk losing another friend. Hollister remained quiet next to me, her delicate hand on my thigh. I clung to it as best I could while I drove. I couldn’t imagine ever losing her.
When we arrived back in the city, I watched as Lansing pulled into the garage of his building. A quick text said, “O.K.” and I knew he was heading for his place. He had a girl up there that I hadn’t met yet, and I hoped she would take care of him. I didn’t think he could handle any more loss either. None of us could.
Hollister needed to get back to the shelter, and I had encouraged her to sleep on the long car ride. She dozed, but I didn’t know how she’d find the strength to work. I, myself, was exhausted. I collapsed on my large bed, getting a whiff of her scent on my sheets before falling into a solid sleep.
