by Stephen Biro
Marshall looks over to Norman, perplexed.
"Here it is. Got it!" Norman proudly holds up a sliver of glass with his bloody hands in full sight.
"Norman?! Have you listened to a word I've said?! I've just been spied on by one of your fucking laborers!"
"And I will chastise him immediately, Barbara. I sincerely apologize. The man you saw was probably Arturo. He's one of the older villagers that comes by from time-to-time and was simply curious, is all." Norman continues, "Marshall, clean her foot with the alcohol and tend to this bandage, then take Barbara into the room to rest. I'll have this bathroom cleaned up for you right away."
Marshall cleanses the wound and places the bandage on her foot. He then tries to help Barbara to her feet.
"You want to help me? Then get me a new drink, Marshall. Make it a triple and leave me alone!"
"Yes, get her a new drink, Marshall, this poor girl has been through a hellacious experience. Go, I will tend to this bathroom."
Marshall and Barbara exit as Norman closes the bathroom door behind them. He then walks over to the vanity, turns on the water faucet and looks at his bloody hands. Shaking his head, he says to himself, "my word, what a mess..." Raising his left wrist high into the air, he studies a lone blood drip that has run the furthest down his arm. He unfurls his tongue to the underside of the droplet; then runs the length up to his thumb where he finishes it off, as if he had just plucked it from a fresh berry pie. Norman's eyes roll back in his head as he begins to lick other traces of Barbara's blood from his hands...
Marshall returns with a drink to find Barbara lying on the bed with her eyes closed and her arm draped-over her forehead.
"Here you go, dear." She takes the drink and instructs him to leave. Hearing some commotion from the bathroom, Marshall stops and calls out,
"Norman, do you need any help in there?"
Norman is now shirtless and furiously masturbating using the remnants of Barbara's blood as lubricant. "I'm - I got it, thank you. Almost finished!"
Quietly, Marshall hears him go on to say, "Oh, God damn it..."
"Norman, are you sure everything's okay in there?" Marshall asks.
"Just a lot of blood, my good man, ahhhh, the blood!"
Norman swipes a hand towel from the rack and bites down on it as he climaxes into the sink. Upon finishing, he releases a long-winded, silent exhale and washes his hands and genitalia. After he dries up, he turns and scrutinizes the blood smear and droplets on the tile floor. Folding the towel into quarters, he lays it on the floor. Each knee is then rested on the towel for comfort. Norman then drops forward onto his palms like a dog. He then laps up and savors each droplet of blood...
An hour later, Marshall and Norman laugh with one another as they sit at a table on his wraparound patio. An assortment of tropical fruits such as some Yumanasa berries, Palm fruit, Macambo and Açaí berries are laid out on banana leaves before them.
"By God, you're right!" Norman laughs, "I had forgotten all about that New Years Eve!" "That was one of the first times where I felt very free in my life," Marshall confesses, "and the first and last time that I had ever seen my father drunk!" The two old colleagues laugh with one another. The ambience is quite nice - and to top off the scene, there is a brilliant red, orange and white Macaw Parrot that sits perched on the porch railing waiting for a potential token of food.
Marshall catches a glimpse of Barbara standing in the frame of the patio door with the two children in front of her He sighs internally, as it's time for him to put his light-hearted nature aside and take his place beside his wife. "Excellent!" Marshall stands up. "You're up, splendid, please join us!"
"Go on, children, take your seats." Barbara instructs, as little Oliver and Madison immediately fuss over who sits where. "Children, please! Oliver you sit here and Madison you sit there. See? Simple."
They take their seats and each grab for some dried plantains that rest in the center of the table. Barbara slowly walks up and accepts the chair that Marshall has pulled out for her. She sits down as her chair is scooted in, but he pushes too far; perhaps even on purpose - causing her abdomen to hit the table,
"What's wrong with you, Marshall? Kill me, why don't you?!"
"I am sorry, my dear." Marshall bows a bit, resumes his seat and the evening begins.
This afternoon's menu is a hearty vegetable soup, served in a large bowl that is brought out by the wait staff. "Norman, what exactly is this?" Barbara asks. With a spoonful already in his mouth, Norman replies, "Lunch! This consists of numerous vegetables from this very rainforest. It's sure to be the healthiest soup you have ever had."
"Lunch?!" Barbara shoots Marshall a glance of disgust.
"Vegetables?!" Oliver asks. He and his sister, Madison shoot a look to one another and give out a heartfelt, "yuck!"
Norman laughs. "Children, the Amazon has everything you could ever want to live on. Vegetables of every kind and meat from numerous species." Norman educates.
"No meat in today's one-course meal?" Barbara dishes.
"There will be plenty of meat at tonight's dinner." Norman says.
"What about real food? Like desserts?!" Oliver inquires.
Norman laughs at the child's honesty.
"Well, we make our own cocoa here." The two kids are now bright-eyed and all smiles. "Perhaps later we can rustle up some for you two?" Norman adds.
Barbara catches sight of Tiki and calls him over.
"Hello, doll. Make me a vodka soda, would you, love?" Tiki tips his head and grabs her empty glass. "Oh, Tiki? Heavy on the vodka."
Marshall switches gears to delude himself of his wife's alcohol abuse,
"So, it will be nice to see the other members of our society this evening!"
"Yes, we have some wonderful members joining us this year; and the funding you bring will certainly help some societal members continue their research here in the rainforest. I am quite glad that the college recognizes the importance of preservation." Norman says. "Well, that is our motto: Preservation and nothing else!" Marshall replies.
"Indeed! Capernica has been researching a possible new plant species, as of late. Her findings suggest that the plant acts as the best inhibitor yet for aging skin. You know what that means, don't you?" Norman asks.
"A fountain of youth?" Marshall wildly wonders.
"You've got it, my boy!" Tiki brings Barbara a fresh new drink.
"Thank you, love. Tell me, Norman, this skin cream your, society, has been working on - how do you expect to compete with corporations that spend millions of dollars doing real research and are backed by dermatologists?"
"I am so sorry, Norman." Marshall says.
"Don't make me haul off and smack you again..." Barbara casually informs. Marshall purses his lip in embarrassment.
"That's quite alright, Marshall. Barbara, imagine a cream that restores your skin to that of a teenaged girl. Think back to when your skin was tender, elastic and savory... "
"What do you mean was?!" Barbara lashes.
There is a pause for a moment, as Norman looks down at himself; for he is beginning to produce a massive boner under the table. Barbara curiously stares at him, while Madison and Oliver look at one another. He clears his throat and continues.
"As I was saying, imagine after a fresh shower, right before you retire for the evening, you rub some of our all-natural skin cream on your damaged city skin; allowing your flesh to marinate with herbs and sweet spices while you sleep..." Norman's breathing gets a little heavy as he wipes the newly-formed perspiration from his brow.
"All the while, tenderizing your body's meat... er, skin." Norman twitches, just a bit, as he works to maintain his composure as though he is fighting a werewolf transformation. "Reversing the clock... from tough, aged and weathered skin, to succulent, juicy and aromatic flesh..." Norman grabs his half glass of scotch and downs the rest of it. He slams his empty glass down and exhales.
"As you can see, I truly believe in this product." Norman ensures.
"That wasn't creepy..." Barbara says.
"Well, it is a reality, Mrs. Sterling and our society will redefine all skin creams. Our society is going to help mankind achieve the most age-defying and tender skin on the planet - and within one month's time, we will begin to market the product all over Europe."
Marshall chimes in. "Norman, if this is something that was just discovered, then we would need a minimum of six months to test the product. I'll need to see the data from Capernica's lab reports, but the society should vote on such a matter. Also, seeing as how Europeans enjoy following the latest trends of America, I would think we would start marketing there first - in six months time."
Barbara sips on her drink as she and the children observe the exchange.
"I think one month time is more than enough, this is all-natural, Marshall and most of the society has already backed-up my plan."
"I am sorry, dear friend, but we will vote on this matter." Marshall takes a sip from his glass as Norman absorbs his statement. "Fine. Tonight, we shall put it to a vote."
"I knew you had balls, Marshall - and sagging ones at that, but I didn't know you had real balls!" Barbara says as she downs another one.
They finish lunch rather quietly and shortly after, Marshall decides to go down for a nap; to no disagreement from his wife. Getting some actual shut-eye is the needed vacation Marshall looks forward to daily - the very escape from his family. Dreaming is the only chance that he has to let his guard down and actually relax...
While Marshall rests, Barbara lays about in a hammock, already drunk, watching Tiki work with the other laborers. As she sips her seventh vodka soda of the day, she brings her sunglasses down her nose and observes Tiki's shirtless physique. Raising an eyebrow, she places her drink on the ground and exits the hammock. She walks with stumbled confidence on a mission heading directly towards him. The other laborers take notice as Barbara grabs Tiki by the hand and leads him inside a small tool shed...
Later that evening, Marshall is rudely awakened by a putrid smell. Barbara is burning a stalk of herbs and sending smoldering smoke signals into each corner of the room. "Barbara, are you serious?" Barbara turns around and shoots him a nasty glance. "It's bad enough I have to put up with this at home, but we're guests here." Marshall says. "You're lucky someone cares enough to bless this fucking room. I've sensed conflicting energies in this place; and I'm beginning to sense odd energies within Norman..." Barbara confesses.
Wiping his face from sheer exhaustion, "Just leave it alone, please. Why don't you have a drink or something?"
"Don't make light of the energies within us, Marshall. It has a way of manifesting." Barbara informs. "Yes, well, it's nearing time to ready ourselves for the evening." She gathers her herbs and matches and slams the door, yet again.
Marshall throws his feet onto the floor and exhales. That was a much-needed nap-considering, he thought to himself. Still, the reality of his life had been wearing on his shoulders for far too long. He stands up and walks over to his shirt that he had tossed over the armchair before lying down. Unbuttoning the front pocket, he pulls out the folded envelope and peeks inside. He places it back into the pocket and readies himself for the evening.
Standing at the bar, Marshall pours two glasses of Chardonnay as his children run into the living room fighting with each other.
"Madison! Oliver! Settle down, you two." The kids continue to argue. "If you two stop fighting, I'll get you some of that cocoa Norman was talking about."
Oliver and Madison stop immediately, as Norman walks into the living room wearing an all-white suit.
"Ah, you're looking dapper tonight, Marshall!" Norman says.
"Thank you, Norman, same to you. Say, would you mind making some of that cocoa you spoke of for the kids?"
Norman happily obliges, "Of course. Come with me, children and I'll fetch you some chocolatey goodness!"
The kids scamper off with Norman as Marshall packs his Dunhill Pipe with a little tobacco, picks up the glasses and walks off.
He enters their room and catches sight of Barbara as she traces red lipstick on her lips in front of the vanity mirror. She really is quite beautiful, Marshall thinks to himself...
"Hi, honey. Are you almost ready?" Marshall asks.
"I've been ready, thank you." Barbara stands up and is wearing an exquisite off-white, silk evening gown. He shakes his head.
"What's your problem?" Quizzes Barbara.
"Nothing, my dear. It's just..."
"Spit it out, you moron." Barbara insists. "It's just, you are so stunningly breathtaking, is all. I am a very lucky man." Marshall delivers with pride and hands her a glass.
"Yes, you are. It's a shame that I don't share that good fortune." Barbara drinks the glass in one gulp and hands it back to him. "Yes, well..."
"I am dreading how boring this dinner is going to be. Get your votes and let’s get out of there."
Marshall pulls out his pipe and strikes a match. He puffs a flame up from his bowl and smokes away. "You're going to have a splendid time, my dear." Marshall smiles.
They all exit the cabana and find the jeep outside with the engine idling. Tiki gets out and opens the back passenger doors. As he helps Barbara and the kids get in, the two make serious eye contact with one another. Once Marshall steps into the front passenger seat, Tiki drives them off. The view of the road is dimly lit by the headlights as it only partially illuminates the dirt pathway.
"Mommy, I'm hungry!" Says Madison.
"Me too, momma." Agrees Oliver.
"I know, little darlings, Mommy's hungry too. We're almost there." Comforts Barbara.
"We are close by, yes?" Barbara asks the driver.
"Si. Close by." Says Tiki.
The jeep parks, the two men exit. Marshall opens her door and holds his hand out as a gentlemen should, but she does not accept.
"Barbara?" He places his hand atop hers and caresses the contour of her hand; a hand he has held, or has tried to, many-a-time. He looks on to his children.
"Madison? Oli?" They are all fast asleep. Marshall nods to Tiki. Tiki speaks in Portuguese to two native men that approach the vehicle and remove Barbara and the children. Marshall watches this unfold as they carry them off.
Another car pulls up and Norman exits. He walks up to Marshall and places his hand on his shoulder.
"See? I told you the sedatives would work... You did the right thing, my friend. We must all pay our dues for the society." Marshall looks over to Norman.
Shortly after, Marshall is brought to a single barn. He enters. The room resembles that of a kitchen in a restaurant. Stainless steel counters and equipment stand about. In the center of the room is Barbara, stripped naked, strapped to a cold slab with her mouth taped.
"Hello, honey..." He says with a devilish smirk. Barbara opens her eyes as she fights the half-life from the sedative she was slipped. She should have known better when asking him earlier of tonight's dinner; for Barbara has a saying that she coined sometime back, when she started to learn of her husband's mannerisms. "Whenever Marshall lies, there's a smile in his eyes..." Which is not a wonder why he would let plumes of smoke rise up in front of his face, so he may squint and conceal his deceitful expression.
She tries to yell at him, but all that one can hear is grumbles, moans and noise. Marshall quiets her with his two fingers pressed over her bound mouth.
"You may wonder what exactly is going on here? Well, I will certainly tell you... I have known, Barbara. I have known all along." She expresses a look of confusion. Her eyes follow his hands as Marshall reaches into his jacket's inner lapel pocket. He reveals the envelope, opens it and pulls out a piece of paper. "I've known about your infidelity; because I am a sterile man." Barbara shakes her head in denial. "This medical document I have in my hand confirms that I am. The children you bore me are demons, Barbara. Demons from a sinful, sexual encounter." Marshall points and yells like never before, "those little things marinating in that pot over there are not mine!!..."
> Tears fall from Barbara's eyes as she looks over to the crying children, sitting neck-deep in a large steel vat of broth; while three female natives cut autonomously cut vegetables into the stew.
"Which isn't a wonder why they have never respected me - just as you, dear Barbara, have never respected me." Marshall slowly and confidently walks around her table.
"I also know of the night in which the twins were conceived, for I crossed a much younger man as he exited the elevator of our building." Barbara heavily cries. Marshall leans over her face, "the elevator reeked of the perfume I gave you for our third anniversary! I know this to be true because of the rarity of that very perfume. I traded my camera with one of the natives for that scent and that scumbag was smothered in it!"
Barbara begins to realize the absolution of her predicament and fusses at the straps.
Marshall rips the tape from her mouth as Barbara screams as loud as one can.
"Go right ahead, no one is going to help you, Barbara." Marshall screams loudly right alongside her to further his point. The female natives remain cutting vegetables into the vat of marinating children. No one bothers.
"That paper you have is fraudulent! I have never had an affair and Oliver and Madison are your children, you sonuvabitch!"
"You're really going to lie there and tell me that you've never had an affair, Barbara?" "Never!" Barbara pleas.
"In other words, you've always been faithful to me?" Marshall inquires.
"Yes, I have never gone to bed with another man since you and I were wed!"
Marshall chuckles and shakes his head in disappointment from her explanation.
"Well, that is very interesting - because I have arranged for the very man you committed adultery with to win a trip to the Amazonian Rainforest." Marshall then yells out, "Tiki!"
Tiki wheels in a stainless steel table with a naked man strapped to it. He rolls him right beside her and the man meets eyes with Barbara. Marshall rips the tape from the man's mouth. "You fucking bitch! I knew you'd be trouble the moment you started hitting on me at the tavern!"
"You hit on me, Scott!"
Marshall makes satisfied eye-contact with Barbara.
