"What can you talk about, Allie?" he asked so gently that she almost spoke without thinking first. "Or, if you do not want to talk about yourself, what would you like to ask me? What would you want to know, that would help you be more at ease?"
Alexis took her time to formulate words in her head. She was so used to now assessing everything before she spoke - considering how every single word she spoke would be perceived - that it was a natural thing for her to do. She had never been a natural conversationalist, but had always believed in good manners, so would not immediately ignore someone being kind to her.
"Do you live here alone?" she asked tentatively, finding her way toward conversation.
He nodded. "Yes, this was my family home - I grew up here. And since my parents died I have remained living here. My brother was living here with me but moved to Sydney earlier this year. It is a big house for one person, I know, but it is home."
"Do you … work?" she asked, slowly relaxing more and more.
"I do," he replied, smiling at her. "I am a baker and I work in the bakery section of the town supermarket."
Alexis picked up one of the biscuits in front of her, and looked at him with the question on her face, making him laugh at her.
"Yes, I baked those. I like baking - it relaxes me," he said, feeling the armour next to him falling back ever so slightly. "And it tastes so good, too!"
He saw a glimmer of a slight laugh almost escape her, but it was suppressed so he sat silent, waiting for her courage to build up again.
"Are you … curious … about me?" she asked quietly, wondering what he was thinking about her situation and inability to talk to him confidently.
He studied her face for a few minutes, seeing her eyes downcast as if she should not look at him - was too afraid to look at him. He perceived that with this woman, formulating the right words might be extremely important, so he took his time.
"Of course I am," he said and paused before continuing. "You seem so … troubled. But I can see you do not wish to talk about it, and I am fine with that. It is a part of life that sometimes we have things happen to us, that we just want to keep to ourselves. I don't think there is anything wrong in that."
"Will you … want me to … do things, while I am here?" she asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but he was confused by the question.
"Do you mean, like, wash your own dishes and make your bed?"
He saw her face take on a look of frustration as she continued to keep her eyes down.
"No, I mean do things."
"Allie, you may be straight up with me. What is your real question?"
"Please you," she said and he gulped heavily in surprise.
"Please me?" he asked, trying to ascertain what she meant. He let the words roll around in his mind and could only come up with one thing she could mean, surely. "Do you mean … sexually?" he blurted out in horror, sincerely hoping that he must be wrong.
Alexis heard the question and nodded, keeping her eyes down as she'd had drummed into her she must do when talking to a man, finding all of a sudden that the sound of his voice was so like his that by listening to it, she had fallen under his spell in an unknowing way.
"No!" he said forcefully, and immediately saw her wilt and yet also become rigid at the same time, making him think of a soldier coming to attention, but in a shrunken way. "Why would you think that?" he asked, feeling uncertain then exactly how that question had made him feel. He waited for her answer but receiving none he just looked at her. "And why will you not look at me now?" he asked further and saw confusion on her face.
"I…" she started to say before giving up. Before his eyes she just seemed to deflate, the life going out of her all of a sudden. He put his cup on the table, and then reached over and, after an initial shock on her part, took her cup also and moved it out of the way.
"Allie, can you look at me?" he asked tentatively, venturing to try something to gain a better understanding of who this woman was, who was sitting beside him. When she did not look up he purposely changed his tone. "Allie, look at me!"
Instantly he saw her raise her head and look into his eyes, and without her having to say any more, he realised then a great deal about her. Although he did not want to force her to do anything, he understood then that the only way he might be able to make her safe for the next two nights, before she left on the train, would be to speak to her in this way. He stood up and held out his hand.
"Stand up and take my hand," he said and she obeyed, as if in a trance. "Walk with me," he continued and they moved into the house. She did not even seem to have awareness about her of the fact that she had been afraid to enter the house earlier.
He led her to his lounge area and instructed her to sit on the sofa, which she did. He went outside to bring in her bag and the coffee tray, and close the front door on the way back in, and when he returned he saw she was down on her knees on the floor, head hung low.
"Get up," he said and she did so. She stood before him, head down and eyes down, almost like she was a robot, void of any humanity.
He stepped up to her and gently and slowly raised his hand toward her chin, seeing her flinch slightly as his hand moved closer, but he persisted, putting his hand on her chin and raising her face so that she was looking at him.
"Allie, stop!" he said to her forcefully, and something about his voice, and seeing his face, startled her and she seemed then to break out of whatever trance she had been in.
Alexis felt like she was waking from a hazy dream. She had been thinking she was somewhere else - with someone else - and found herself scared at what had just happened.
"Are you back with me now?" Anthony asked and she nodded in response. "Sit down here, and talk to me."
Alexis felt disoriented but did as he asked.
"What happened to you just then? You seemed to shut down and not hear me asking you anything," he started and was glad that at least she seemed to be looking directly at him. "You only responded when I commanded you - what is that about?"
Alexis felt a deep anguish inside of her. She'd had moments like that at different times over the previous three years - some of which she had lost time in and had not since remembered what she had done - or what had been done to her - but she had not even considered that it might be a part of who she was, and not only directly related to who she had been with.
She started to look down once more and, fearful that he would lose her again, he instructed her to keep looking right at him.
"Keep your eyes on me, Allie, so you remember who you are talking to," he said and she looked into his eyes and nodded, still alarmed at what was happening to her. "Do you even know that you just tuned out for the past few minutes, like you didn't even know I was here?" he asked and saw her head shake, confirming what he had already thought.
"You shouldn't be travelling by yourself if you fall into trances like that. If someone else sees as easily as I could that you are willing to do anything that they tell you to … Allie, you won't be safe."
She nodded at him and knew he was right.
"What has happened to you, to make you act like that?" he asked quietly, purposely holding her gaze so she wouldn't slip away from him.
Continuing to look into his eyes, Alexis breathed out heavily, not wanting to talk about her past, and then she felt tears start to appear. For weeks now she had been working so hard to just try and get to a point where she could get away and start moving toward a new life, but she saw now that it was hopeless. She was damaged goods - her mind was no longer her own and she could not see how she could possibly undo that.
But in front of her - forcing her to look at him directly so she would not forget who she was with - was a man who did not appear to be set on hurting her. If he was, he could have done anything to her in the last few minutes, she considered. She was angry within herself, for being this person who could not trust any other human being - even those who only showed her kindness.
"I don't want
to talk about such things," she started to say before finding the tears running even more freely. "Please don't make me."
He looked at her in pity.
"Make you? I'm not going to make you do or say anything you do not wish to," he responded, not sure now how to keep her calm and feeling safe in his home. "How about you grab your bag and I show you to the guest room?" he suggested and she nodded and stood up to follow him, not letting her eyes leave him, because that voice was just too similar…
"Here is the guest room that you can sleep in," Anthony said as he opened the door to a large bedroom with a selection of old furniture in it, including a large brass-framed bed. "And just across the hallway there is the bathroom. No ensuite, I am afraid, but there is a lock on the inside of the bathroom door so you shall be quite safe, I assure you."
He watched her as she walked into the bedroom and looked around her, still with tears fresh in her eyes.
"Are you hungry? It is almost lunchtime and at this time of day I usually cook up something simple. Today I am feeling like having eggs and bacon, and I am more than happy to prepare some for you too," he said and saw her eyes instantly pick up and look at him, like she had not eaten in weeks.
Alexis studied him. She was in a bedroom in a strange house, with a strange man. He could, right in this moment, be forcing her to do anything. But he wasn't. Instead he was standing before her, informing her of the lock on the bathroom door, and offering to cook her lunch. Thinking about the food that was suddenly on offer, she heard her tummy growl in response, and it broke the tension for both of them, making them both laugh.
"I'll take that as a yes to eggs and bacon, then, shall I?" he asked in a light hearted way, and Alexis nodded back at him, grateful.
"Can I help?" she asked and he was uncertain of what would be the best response to give her.
"If you like. I will make a start. You get settled and come down to the kitchen when you wish to - it is down this end of the hallway," he said calmly, pointing in the direction opposite the front door, before he started to walk away.
Now on her own again, Alexis put her bag on the bed and sat down. Looking around she was overwhelmed with the feeling of being in a real home - something she had never felt a part of. There were photos on the mantelpiece over the fireplace, and she slowly stood and went over to look at them. Some of them looked so old that she found her curiosity about them deep. Looking from one to the next she found a more modern one of two parents and two boys, and looking closely she was certain she could identify Anthony as one of the boys. He was young in it - maybe 12 or 13 years old - but his face was similar, even though he was now of course much older.
Suddenly emotions flowed through her that made her feel incredibly alone and incredibly sad, and once again she fought tears straining in her eyes. She moved from the room she was in to the bathroom across the hall and locked the door. Standing at the hand basin, she looked in the mirror and found herself asking who that person was, that was staring back at her. She kind of looked like her - like a run down and worn image of who she was as a person - but she didn't feel like her. She had never been overly confident, or sociable, or any of those positive things she wanted to be deep inside, but this person staring back at her was someone else altogether.
Moving to sit on the toilet, Alexis let the emotions come, and they didn't come out in a dribble or even a light flow. They let loose like floodgates being opened, and she let them. She'd held back for weeks how she had been feeling about the track her life seemed to be on. And even in the past 36 hours had held back, to keep it all together so she could get away, but now she just sat and held back no more. She had to heal - she knew that - and she had to let herself make it happen - or at least to let it begin. So she sat in the bathroom and wept. Then she got up, rinsed her face, unlocked the bathroom door and walked to the kitchen, where she could already smell the alluring scent of bacon cooking, making her salivate in thinking that it had been too long since she ate a proper meal.
Anthony saw Alexis slowly make her way to where he was cooking, and he observed the redness in her eyes but said nothing. If she wanted to talk, she would talk. His most pressing desire was simply to make sure she was safe for two nights, and that she ate, because to him she looked like she had forgotten that simple requirement of life, for far too long.
Alexis felt shy but didn't want to feel shy. She wanted to feel … normal. But what did normal feel like, she found herself wondering.
She raised her eyes to meet his and found him watching her steadily.
"Do you want your eggs on toast?" he asked, as if nothing was out of the ordinary and they were established friends.
Alexis nodded and mumbled quietly, "Yes please."
The food was plated and he handed one plate to her and led her to the dining table that was in the centre of the large kitchen. Sitting down, Alexis felt herself almost desperate to eat the food in front of her, but held back, determined to maintain some semblance of manners, at least.
"Dig in," he said, pointing to her plate before starting to eat his own meal. "I know it's not entirely nutritious, but it tastes good."
He saw her look at him, and she watched him take his first few bites of his bacon before she finally looked down again, slowly picked up her knife and fork, and cut one tiny - miniscule - piece of bacon, and moved it to her mouth.
Anthony stopped his eating mid-chew and watched her. It was like watching slow motion as he saw her raise her fork to her mouth, and pull the tiny piece of bacon in before closing her mouth and starting to chew slowly. Her eyes were closed and he realised she was truly in the moment - to her it seemed like that tiny piece of bacon was the most amazing thing she had ever tasted in her entire life.
Alexis revelled in the flavour, and the freedom to enjoy the flavour, openly, without having to pretend otherwise, or having to monitor every little thing that she put in her mouth, out of fear of what would happen if it were the wrong thing. She chewed and swallowed, and then, upon noticing the silence, opened her eyes. She was initially startled by the intense look on the face before her, before she let herself relax and smile sheepishly.
"I haven't had bacon in a long while," she said quietly, making him think of a timid mouse. Her speaking broke him out of his gaze also, and he smiled back at her.
"Well then you have some serious making up to do, Missy," he said in a tone that was far more relaxed than he felt in that moment, determined to make light of whatever she had been experiencing a moment before. "Don't be polite on my account, because I won't be on your account. I love food, and I eat it as I want to."
His speech seemed to activate a different switch inside of her as he then saw her look down and start to eat - really eat - like not only had she not eaten in a very long time, but also like she expected she would never again eat after this meal.
They sat in silence, each indulging in the food before them, and finally Alexis put her knife and fork on her plate and sat back in the chair, hand on her belly.
"Thank you. That really was the best food I've ever had," she said and although at first he thought from the words that she was exaggerating in a humorous way, when he looked at her face he wondered if indeed she was.
"You are very welcome, Allie," he replied softly, determined not to scare her or put her in any position where she felt threatened.
He saw her look at the clock on the kitchen wall, and thought she seemed to be heading into a deep trance again, she had been looking at it so long, so spoke to make sure she was not disappearing into herself again.
"Do you have to be somewhere?" he asked, with enough force behind his words that worked in bringing her gaze back to him.
For a few minutes Alexis had looked at the clock and suddenly found herself thinking about the time. It was now 12.45pm. It was now more than 15 hours past the time that he would have turned his phone on to leave an instruction for her. What had he thought when she did not answer her phone and he heard her 'too sick to answer' message? Wha
t would he have done? Where would he have gone? What actions would he have taken to get to her? Where is he, right in this here exact moment in time?
Suddenly Anthony's voice came through the haze of her mind, and she turned back to him.
"No. I have nowhere else I should be."
2 ~ THE SOFTENING
Anthony watched the young woman on the seat not too far from the sofa he was settled on. It had certainly been an interesting day, to say the least, but now that they had gotten through the afternoon and into this early evening, she had settled into one of the large armchairs in his lounge and seemed more at peace, since he had encouraged her to choose a movie to put on for them to watch. To him it appeared that the concept initially had seemed strange to her, like it would never occur to her to watch a movie in the comfort of one's own home, but to Anthony it had always been a good way to escape the realism of life, even if only for a couple of hours, and as he looked at her face now he believed she was falling under this spell also.
Under the guise of watching the movie also, his view was of course more focused on her. From the angle of where he was sitting he could view her face whilst still broadly facing the television in front of them, but he needn't have worried about that as her attention was well focused on the screen in front of her. While she was at peace he took the time to really look at her, as if finally from an outsider's point of view - something that he hadn't had time to even consider with all that had happened since he saw her get off the bus that morning.
There were physical attributes about her that he noticed for the first time - the simple and obvious things like that her hair was shoulder length and brownish blond, and she had clear, pale skin. She wore no makeup whatsoever, but she suited natural. And she was wearing clothing that looked like it wasn't new, and it wasn't from last year or even probably the year before - looking really closely it seemed like she was wearing clothing that could be a decade old. Perhaps from a vintage store - except that there was nothing about anything she had on that said 'fashion' so probably not vintage, so much as second hand. And it was clothing that was not only chosen to be comfortable - it appeared to him that it had also been chosen to give her an air of 'genderlessness', he thought. Wearing those clothes, with her hair hidden under the cap as it had been when he had first seen her, she could pass as being either a man or a woman.
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