by Ian Fox
He stared ahead, his cheeks as red as a tomato. “No, I haven’t.”
“You should. All the famous people would come to you.”
“Oh, come on, you’re exaggerating now.”
“I’m not exaggerating, you really should think about it. It’s clear you cook with love and have a talent.”
She noticed he was blushing and she liked the fact that he was falling under her spell. “I think many people don’t use their talents fully,” she added.
“Emely, how come you’ve never married?” he asked her directly, changing the subject.
“What do you mean, not married? I told you about Philip. Isn’t that enough?” The conversation had been going so smoothly and now he had to surprise her with such a personal question.
“What I meant to say …. Relationships that last no longer than two years are something quite different from staying with someone for life.”
“What do you mean two years?” She tried to remember how long she had been with Philip, but she couldn’t put her finger on the start of their relationship. “We must have been together for more than two years. And anyway, how does it matter?” She wasn’t sure why his question annoyed her so much. What does it matter how long you’re with someone? If you’ve been together for two years, you can spend the rest of your life with them.
“Well,” John said, “some people never marry. Maybe they never find the right partner. I mean, someone they really love.”
He looked at her with such a serious expression that her heart missed a beat.
He said, “They’re always with someone, but it doesn’t last for more than a few years.”
“I’m not sure if that’s quite true, is it?” She looked back and soon became resigned to the fact that she had not spent more than two years with anyone.
John’s gaze made her feel uncomfortable. “You’re alone too,” she said. “Why aren’t you married?”
He smiled. Whenever he did this, she was amazed by his beautiful teeth.
“I’m not criticizing you, Emely. I think you’ll find the right guy sooner or later and get married.”
“I have found him. Philip. I’ll marry him.” She said this only to annoy him. The thought of actually marrying Philip somehow did not appeal.
And so they went on bantering until ten o’clock when Emely, feeling tired, put her hands on the table to indicate that it was time for her to go to bed.
John looked at his watch and nodded. “It is late. I’ll walk you to your room.”
Yes, you’ll walk me, she thought angrily. And lock me in, too.
Only twenty minutes after she went to bed, the alarm went off.
*
John was feeling even better than the night before. It’s clear that living in the country is good for me. Like every night, he was in a hurry to go to town and didn’t want to waste any time. His foot pressed hard on the gas pedal. Both the engine and the undercarriage were making worrying noises. I’ll buy a new car. In a month or so.
When he got to town he first went to the casino. He entered with his head raised proudly and secretly looked to see if others had noticed him. When he was buying the chips, he deliberately spoke loudly so that as many people as possible would hear him. Finally he was important and he wanted to show off. Let them stare, these rich bastards, let them stare at my fat wallet.
As soon as he sat at the first gambling table he noticed that people started whispering to each other and looking in his direction. He kept calling the waiter, ordering the most expensive drinks, often berating the boy shuffling the cards for being too slow and saying this would not earn him any money. The poor boy’s hands shook so much that the cards had already scattered onto the table twice.
“Honestly, I can’t believe it,” John said in a harsh voice. “Hurry up and shuffle those damn cards. It’s my lucky night tonight, I can feel it in my bones.”
He didn’t care a hoot about the winnings. What was important was that everyone noticed him and looked at him with envy. He never bet with only one chip and always used at least a fistful.
He didn’t stay long at the first table and set off for the roulette. He was lucky. Every time he won, people screamed in delight. It was like watching a football game. Suddenly, two tall blondes were standing next to him, rooting for him and shrieking. John immediately ordered the most expensive champagne for them. Other women looked on enviously, hoping he would notice them too. He felt like a film star and finally realized what it meant to be rich. It was a wonderful evening. He knew he could have any of those horny women that were begging with their eyes, but he didn’t desire any of them. They all just want my money, let them go to hell. If I have to pay, I’ll pick a woman off the street.
After a while, the people around him began to irritate and disgust him.
At one o’clock, slightly drunk and fed up, he looked around for a woman who could finish off his evening. It was too late to make an appointment with one of the beauties from the catalogue, so he drove to his old spot where around ten scantily-dressed women were pacing the sidewalk.
He drove past slowly the first time, looking at them carefully. They all puckered their lips and stuck out their chests in the hope of attracting a client. When he drove past for the second time, he stopped his muddy vehicle in front of a girl who didn’t look like she was much over eighteen. She kept shuffling from foot to foot, smiling, and looking at her colleagues in the hope they would indicate to her what she should do next. It was clear she was embarrassed and the other women waved to her to get in the car. They were well aware of the saying that opportunity knocks only once.
When they had arrived at a hotel room twenty minutes later, the young woman admitted that she had hardly any experience. “I’m very glad you’re not really old,” she said, and laughed in a silly fashion.
He watched her shuffling awkwardly and lit a cigarette. “Take off your clothes,” he told her.
“I beg your pardon?”
He leaned back lazily in the armchair, his legs apart, and then slowly exhaled the smoke. “Take off your clothes so that I can see your body.”
“But there’s no music.”
“Imagine there is.”
This was not something she had anticipated. Frightened, she began unbuttoning her skirt and swaying, with her legs pressed together, as if she needed to go to the toilet. John watched the funny scene and felt aroused. He dragged on his cigarette and poured beer down his parched throat. Finally, when she was naked he spanked her bottom so that the poor girl jumped onto the bed, shrieking.
John got out of the chair and nailed her to the mattress. She was terrified and nearly cried for help, afraid he was going to hit her. But he just threw himself on top of her and took his pants off.
“Oh, you’re so heavy,” she said.
He rolled off her like an old log and lay on his back. The girl was perfectly still, not knowing what he wanted from her.
He said, “I don’t really feel like it. You get on top of me.”
She was glad to oblige and clambered on, then began kissing his neck and face while rhythmically swaying her behind. She liked him but was afraid of him because of his roughness. She had no way of knowing what horrific pictures were going through John’s head and that he was barely able to maintain his erection. Her colleagues had told her that it would take ten minutes at the most. “Men are usually very aroused and some can’t last even five minutes,” they had said.
The couple swapped positions, John on top. He was like a rabbit, but what he really wanted was to clear his head. His brain was tortured by images of a dead body, horrible smells, soil, and darkness. Emely, all the time. What’s the matter with me? Why can’t she leave me alone?
The young girl kept glancing at her watch in despair. It had been an hour and a half already. They had been in this position for so long that she was completely numb down there, while her head was throbbing. She wanted him to leave her alone. If she hadn’t been afraid of him she would have stopped it after ten minutes and
thrown his money back at him.
He began breathing deeply and shaking like an old steam engine. He huffed and puffed and was glad to have reached the end. It had been an arduous journey and he had to try as hard as never before. He would have stopped long ago but didn’t want to let those wretched hallucinations spoil his evening.
The girl, on the other hand, lay there exhausted, feeling like the bottom part of her body had been severed. When she sat up her legs tingled and the muscles of her behind hurt badly. She got up like an old woman.
“Get dressed already. I haven’t got all night,” he said.
When a few minutes later he dropped her off, her colleagues shouted and laughed as the poor girl sat on a nearby bench, looking pale. Her hair that a few hours earlier had been fixed with hairspray, was now sticking up all over so that she looked like an old broom. She had to light a cigarette immediately.
Comforting her and laughing to each other, they said, “You’ll get used to it.”
*
On the drive home John smoked cigarette after cigarette so that the inside of the car looked like a Turkish sauna. What’s happening to me? Why can’t she leave me alone? For the first time he doubted his belief that God did not exist. He put his hand on his head and thought, What if this is punishment for our horrible deed? Maybe I should ask Ron if he’s experiencing anything like this.
John slept badly that night. He dreamt that someone had thrown him into the sea and had tied a heavy weight to his legs that was pulling him down into the water … but by trying really hard he was able to keep his head above the surface. So he thrashed around, holding his head high to stop water getting into his lungs. His strength was diminishing and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Finally he gave in and felt an incredibly strong pain in his lungs. He wanted to swim up and save himself but … he wanted to scream …. And then he woke up. Breathing heavily and covered in sweat, he stared at the ceiling for a while.
When he closed his eyes again, he found himself in a dark grave next to the dead Emely. He wanted to lift her and pull her out, when soil began falling on top of them—large quantities of soil. Who’s trying to bury me?
He wanted to climb out but the soil was too heavy. His mouth was dry with dirt and he was running out of air. He began shouting.
*
The next day, John had to sort some things out at home. When he went into his apartment he found it empty and strange, as if he had never lived there. For the first time he became aware of the lack of any daylight in there, the furniture seemed old, and the walls were yellow even though they were painted white. He opened a small fridge and got rid of some sausages that were starting to smell bad. The long ride had made him hungry. Luckily he found a few canned goods and satisfied his hunger with those.
He paid some old bills, made a few phone calls, and lay on his bed in the hope of getting an hour’s sleep. His eyes were smarting from lack of sleep and he knew that he’d soon get a headache. Maybe I really should see a shrink, he thought. No, I have nothing to say to him.
He felt an incredible need to talk to someone, though, anyone, to be hugged and comforted. Never in his life had he felt so lonely. He thought of Emely and all the wonderful moments he had spent with her recently and caught himself imagining her hugging him and caressing him all night long. I could confide in her. He shook his head. No, no, what could I tell her? That I have nightmares about dead bodies? She’d tell me to let her go and everything would be OK. He took a quick breath.
How selfish I am, thinking only about my dreams. Who knows what she dreams. After all, she’s the one who was buried alive. Maybe her dreams are a hundred times worse than mine. He put his chin in his hands while his body shook with horror. A wave of freezing coldness spread over him.
John imagined thick tears running down Emely’s cheeks and he was drying them with his lips. He moved his head and began breathing calmly. Then I’d embrace her gently and stay like that all night. The next moment he slapped his right cheek. What stupid thoughts have been going through my head! This crazy woman will make my head explode. I’m turning into a sentimental sap. A real man shouldn’t behave like this.
He lay on the bed and slowly closed his eyes. A pleasant feeling drifted from his head to his feet and he purred like a cat. He could feel himself slipping away and entering a place where there was perfect peace.
But only for those who deserved it.
*
John and Ronald were strolling around a deserted construction site. A hole with a circumference of a few yards appeared in front of them and John looked down to see how deep it was. He was bending forward when he felt a hand on his back push him in.
While he was rolling down, his fingers tried to find a grip on the sharp stones but kept sliding over them instead. Then he lay at the bottom, looking up. When he had looked at it from above, the hole seemed not much more than six feet deep, but now that he was in it, he saw it was at least twice that. It was impossible for him to climb out. He called to his brother to stop this silly game and help him out. At that moment, his calls were interrupted by a loud noise of a huge digger pushing an enormous heap of soil. Ronald was driving the machine, laughing as loud as he could. John could not believe his ears.
“Ronald, no! Stop it! Nooooo ….”
He was still shouting for a few seconds after he opened his eyes and saw the white walls in his bedroom. The clock on the wall showed that he had slept for only twenty minutes. He wiped his sweaty face on the sheet and decided to quickly do everything he had to do and then return to the house in the woods. To Emely, he thought.
He called his doctor and mentioned he was having trouble sleeping, and the doctor told him to come pick up a prescription for three packets of sleeping pills, which John did before seven in the evening. When he had accomplished everything he intended to do, he stopped at his local bar, where he had often spent his free time in the past. All the neighbors and friends he used to drink with nearly every night were there. As soon as they saw him, they welcomed him and reproached him for keeping away so long. They asked him all sorts of questions and teased him that he must have found a girl or something. The first drink was followed by another and another and before he realized how much time had passed it was eight o’clock. Oh no, Emely, the poor thing has been in her room all day. I’ve got to go back so that she can at least have a hot shower before bed. He paid for the drinks and quickly took leave from his drunken friends.
*
When Emely heard the alarm at eleven o’clock, she sighed. Finally he’s back. It had been an incredibly boring day. In the morning she didn’t bother to follow the trading on the stock exchange because without John she couldn’t buy or sell anything anyway. Immediately after finishing her morning fitness routine she concentrated on the thoughts that were occupying her mind most of the time: How can I escape from this hell?
She spent at least two hours thinking, only to reach the same conclusion as always. The only solution is to get his trust. Once he becomes less watchful, I’ll have to launch a serious attack, without mercy.
After a while her anger turned to sadness as her thoughts wandered to Philip. What’s he doing? Does he think about me at all? She could see his face clearly and wished she could touch him.
Sally and her other friends were also in Emely’s thoughts. She was no longer crying, the tears having turned into an inner pain that was even worse than crying. Her heart felt as if something was squeezing it and at times she had a feeling that her insides were being torn apart. She had no energy or will to live. For the first time in her life she was able to experience the trials and tribulations that prisoners must endure. The thought of having to spend the rest of her life in there made her shudder.
She thought of her company and felt a burning pain in her stomach. I wonder who’s making all the crucial decisions now. Every day, she used to have to sign invoices for amounts that were rarely less than a hundred dollars. Now she could only hope that everything would be alright. I hired
capable people, she told herself.
After spending time worrying she tried reading a book, but could not get involved.
Where is he? She kept concentrating on the words in the book, trying to get engrossed in the story. Her stomach still felt tense so she tried some breathing exercises in order to calm herself. She felt as if she had stuffed herself with something heavy and her digestive system had shut down. It was her nerves, she knew, but was unable to help herself. The words she was reading kept flying past without her really absorbing them and often she had to go back to the beginning of a paragraph.
Damn that John! How could he leave me alone in this hole? She looked at the clock on the computer. He said “Soon, should be back by three o’clock at the latest.”
He had left her a few sandwiches and some fruit juice in case she got hungry, which had led her to assume he wouldn’t be back for lunch. He’s a selfish pig, like all men.
Although she hated him, she couldn’t imagine being completely alone in that house and badly needed company, irrespective of what had happened.
Maybe it’s not all his fault, she thought. He had a strange upbringing. It’s Ronald’s fault. No, they’re both guilty. They should be put in jail for the rest of their lives.
Angrily she kept glancing at the chamber pot … she needed the toilet. Until then she had not needed to use it. If he doesn’t come soon, I’ll have no choice. Her face grimaced at the thought and she decided to suffer a bit longer and delved into her book again.
*
“I see you had a good time while I was stuck in this hole.”
He shuffled awkwardly and she noticed he was drunk.
“Sorry, Emely, I had …” He was going to apologize, but then realized that he was being too soft, so he immediately changed his voice. “You go to the bathroom while I fix you some food and then you’ll eat it in your room. Understood?”
