Drowning in the East River

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Drowning in the East River Page 11

by Kimberly Pierce


  David looked around. He was in the apartment again. Jessica's shoes were set up neatly near the door. The stack of photographs was still strewn across the table. It was like he'd never left.

  He glanced across the room to the closed bedroom door which seemed to be taunting him.

  Taking a centering breath, he walked over to the bedroom door. The knob felt warm and sticky under his palm. The door was locked.

  "What are you doing here?"

  Turning around, David barely repressed a stunned gasp as he saw Jessica standing in the doorway, staring at him. "J-J-What are you doing here?"

  "I live here," she said, walking over to him. She cracked a small smile as she looked him up and down. He knew that look. She was in a grabby mood. She looked up into his eyes. She continued, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  His thoughts were jumbled and convoluted, as he struggled to keep what was proving to be a tentative grasp on reality.

  David blinked back the fog clouding his vision as Jessica slinked around him. He could feel her soft hand rest on his bicep.

  "You're dead..." David said, his tongue tripping over the words. "You died."

  Her laugh was lyrical, "Don't be silly. How am I here then?"

  He tried to swallow back the cotton he could feel building in his throat, "I don't know."

  "If I were dead, how could I do this?" Jessica's leaned into his body, her voice thick and husky with desire. To his confusion, David could feel his pants tightening as her usual lavender perfume washed over him.

  She leaned in, kissing him fully on the lips as her hands looped around his neck.

  It felt so familiar as she parted her lips enough for him to slide his tongue inside of her mouth.

  "Fuck!" David cried out, pulling abruptly back from Jessica. Her lively tongue had suddenly turned ice cold in his mouth.

  As he looked her up and down, his mind clumsy with confusion, he could see a thick crimson colored mass spreading over her cream colored skirts.

  David looked up at the ceiling of the hotel room. He was soaked in sweat. It may have been from the tropical humidity, or the nerves left over from his dream, he wasn't sure. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, David glanced around the crowded hotel room and took some deep breaths. His pulse was racing out of control. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to repress the shivers still throbbing through his muscles.

  Sitting up, David glanced at the ground. Alexander snored soundly on the floor below him. There were probably 10 or 12 other people scattered around the room, passed out in various stages of undress. An exhausted stillness hung in the air.

  David stood up, and grabbed his clothes from where they laid on the floor. He held his breath as he stepped over Alexander to an open square of floor. Every crack of the floorboards seem to rattle the room, threatening to wake everyone up.

  His fingers felt clumsy as they tripped through the normally simple task of buttoning his shirt.

  As David moved towards the front door, he stepped over the two lesbians, who were asleep on the living room floor, still entwined in each others arms, looks of relaxed pleasure on their sleeping faces. One of the women's blouse was unbuttoned, her large breasts spilling out from under her slip.

  His dressing job could only be described as sloppy as he stepped out into the darkness. He took a moment to tuck the rest of his shirt tails into his pants. A soft glow slowly built on the horizon, but sunrise was still a few hours away.

  CHAPTER NINE

  David walked into the well lit entrance way, pulling the massive, redwood front door closed behind him.

  Carlito's was a dive bar just off the main tourist strip in Havana. From the outside, it was an unassuming windowless facade, easily missed unless you'd been there before.

  The soft thud of David’s footsteps on the ceramic, tile floor echoed in the cavernous ceilings. Looking around, the ivory wallpaper in the hallway had started to yellow with age.

  Moving into the quiet, air cooled entrance way, David looked around. He was alone in the dimly lit hallway. He could just make out the quiet sound of activity echoing from somewhere deep within the cavernous series of rooms.

  "Buenos noches, señor." A girl emerged from one of the rooms, her black hair piled on top of her head. The setting sun streaming though the small windows on the front wall brought out subtle violet highlights in her thick waves of hair.

  The girl sized him up quietly, showing signs she liked what she saw. Her make-up had been quickly applied to her cheeks, a deep red lipstick was spread over her lips. She had wide, innocent black eyes, highlighted with deep green eyeshadow and thick, black eyeliner. She was tiny, barely coming up to his collar bone, and was rail thin. She had the hurried, overdone look of a young girl trying to look older than she was. Looking at her, she couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen years old.

  "Hola," David said. He took his hat off and rested it on a hat rack near the door. He looked around the quiet room, looking for somewhere to take a cue from.

  A hint of timidity in her body language, the girl approached him. She took his hand inside hers in a surprisingly direct manner, leading him into the bowels of the complex, through the sparsely crowded bar. A few men were spread around the room; bored looking girls handed out drinks as jazz played on a gramophone. The smell of marijuana hung in the air.

  She lead him down a dark hallway. In one of the doorways, they stepped over another girl hurriedly blowing a young American. The sailor's eyes were closed, a pleasured, concentrated grin on his face. The prostitute glanced up at him as they passed in the darkness.

  As the girl stopped to open the door to her bedroom, David let his eyes drift over the soft slope of her back and her tight breasts. She wore a thin cotton dress, which snuggly hugged her small frame, further accentuating her supple curves. As she turned back to face him, her erect nipples poked through the thin material of her dress.

  She opened the door and looked over her shoulder at him with a playful glance. Reaching out for his hand, she guided him into the bedroom gently. "Please sit," she said, pulling the door shut behind her and securing the flimsy chain lock.

  The postage stamp of a room seemed barely large enough to fit essential furniture. A rickety queen bed took up most of the space, leaving just enough room for a dresser and wash basin in the corner. The dry hardwood floors splintered from wear; they creaked loudly as she crossed the room to the bed.

  "Ingles?" She asked, her voice soft. He could just smell a faint vanilla odor wafting from her body as she moved passed him. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent deeply.

  David exhaled sharply as his eyes swept over her tight body. The straps on her dress slid from her shoulders revealing the soft skin underneath.

  "Uh, si." David said, quickly searching his head for the right words. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. "American."

  She wrapped her arms around David's neck, pressing her body into his. Backing him into the bed, she straddled his lap and ran her fingers down his cheeks, toying with the coarse hair of his three day beard.

  David felt his body tense at the sudden but soft nature of the contact. He could feel his pants tightening with the arousal building in his body.

  Looking up into his eyes, she let the rest of her dress slide from her body.

  Underneath, she wore a sheath of thin satin as a slip. The material was well worn, discolored from the passage of time. She lifted it over her head, tossing it to the side.

  David brushed his fingers down the soft skin of her neck, tracing a line across her collar bone. Her skin was surprisingly cool in the sticky room.

  David ran his hands down the length of her body, cupping her tiny breasts as she worked the button on his pants. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her fingers over his body. He shakily got to his feet as she pushed his shirt back off his shoulders, exposing his lean chest. He grabbed a handful of her hair; he pulled her head back, kissing her exposed neck. He spun her around, pressing his bo
dy up against her back. He ran his fingers between her legs, edging them apart. She threw her head back and exhaled sharply as he cupped her breasts, a throaty moan spilling from her throat. She reached behind her, gently tugging his hair, pulling him into her body. He pushed her forward onto the bed, she caught herself with her hands on the mattress.

  He could feel the wedding ring smacking rhythmically against his chest with each thrust, as she looked over her shoulder at him. At once, her face seemed to morph, and suddenly Jessica was looking back at him. Her thick black hair wild, her lips pursed into a playful pout.

  "Fuck," David said, stepping back from her. He glanced down at the floor as he refastened his pants. "Shit." He said, kicking the bedpost in pent up frustration.

  The girl stood up, grabbing her slip off the floor. A wide-eyed look of tension flashed across her face, it morphed into barely restrained panic. She clutched the slip in her small hands, using the thin material to cover her exposed breasts. "Did... I do ...something?" She asked in broken English. She pulled her flyaway hair off her neck into a quick up-do as she pulled the thin straps of her dress over her narrow shoulders. She stood up, her voice was pleading as she grabbed his hand inside of hers. "I'm sorry. I can do better. I can please you-"

  "It wasn't anything you did," David replied, pulling his hand free. He slid his wallet from his pocket and dropped a couple of singles on the bed. "It's not you." He turned towards the door, and she reached out, grabbing his hand before he could move.

  She was pleading with him to stay. "Por favor, señor. Let me try something else. I swear, I can please you." She guided him back onto the bed, gently working his zipper as she maneuvered him where she wanted him.

  David looked down at his chest; he was twisting his wedding ring in between his thumb and forefinger as she continued to work his pants.

  "I thought you wanted to wait," David said, looking up at Jessica. He wrapped his hands around her waist, it felt like if he'd let go, he'd loose her again.

  Jessica had swiftly locked the door to her bedroom and had playfully backed him onto her tiny twin bed in the far corner of the room. He barely had time to drop his bag by the door. She still wore her apron from the dry goods store; the dingy gray strings still knotted in the thrill of seeing David for the first time in three years.

  David had hurried to her parent's dry goods store right from Grand Central Station, not even bothering to change out of the uniform he'd been wearing since South Hampton. It'd been just as long since he'd been able to shave.

  Jessica's novels and papers mingled with Anna and Katherine's belongings which were scattered around the room. There was a banner screaming to get the vote for women tucked discreetly into the corner of the room, out of sight of the conservative prying eyes of her parents. Brochures about creating an Irish Free State littered her simple writing desk next to the bed.

  "I figure you'd waited long enough," Jessica replied, a smile spread across her lips as her eyes looked him over playfully. She looked down at him, running her fingers through his hair. She brought her fingers down across his scruffy cheek, "I love you, David." Jessica dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands gently went to the button of his slacks.

  He didn't protest and Jessica slowly continued working the buttons, moving to his shirt. As she reached his top button, she moved to slide the shirt off his shoulder. He moved abruptly, placing his hands on top of her's. He took her hands inside his, making pleading eye contact with her.

  "What's the matter?" Jessica asked, laughing.

  David brought her hands to his lips, kissing her fingertips gently. He inhaled deeply; the scent of the perfume she always wore flooded his nostrils. It was surreal, so much better than the smell he struggled to keep in his memory for the last three years.

  David slid down to the floor in front of her. He stared at the floorboards, attempting to put his fears into words. He had been playing this scene through in his head for the last three months, and he had never gotten it right. "I'm afraid for you to see it."

  "What do you mean?" Jessica asked. She dropped to a crouch in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She stared straight into his eyes, her affection unwavering.

  "I'm-it's-" David said, his tongue struggling to find the right words. The openness in her eyes compelled him to continue. "It's- they aren't exactly pleasant to look at."

  David dropped his head against Jessica's shoulder. For a moment he laid there, listening to the soft pounding of her heart deep inside her chest.

  Jessica wrapped her arm around his shoulder, holding him to her body with a gentle, but firm hand.

  David dropped his head into the nook between her neck and her shoulder, silence falling over the room. She stroked his back gently, supporting him as he attempted to regain his crumbling composure. David looked up, blinking back the tears starting to brim in his eyes.

  "You're aren't getting rid of me that easily." Jessica quickly wiped a tear from her eye and mustered a bright smile."You know, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health..."

  "I'm so lucky to have you."

  "Listen David," Jessica said, running gentle fingers over his cheek. Her voice dropped an octave as she leaned into his body. She continued, slowly. "There's a lot you don't want to talk about. I understand it. But, I'm here... I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

  Swallowing back the knot in his stomach, David stood up and turned to face her. He shrugged, letting his shirt slide off his shoulders. His posture was uncomfortably rigid as Jessica looked him over, seeing the burn scars riddling his torso for the first time. He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat as she ran a finger over the puffy pink bayonet scar zig-zagging his abdomen. His scars had mostly closed up. The burns were taking longer, slowly turning to itchy scar tissue as the skin gradually regenerated.

  Jessica looked up, meeting his eyes with an unwavering gaze. She bit back any emotion which she may have been feeling, the only sign was the tears he could see forming in her eyes. She smiled softly at him, as she forced a level of calm into her voice. She smiled softly at him. "You are going to have to do better than that to scare me, Mr. Freeman." Then as if to punctuate her point, she kissed him.

  They didn't break eye contact as she gently rose up onto the bed, guiding him in on top of her. "I'm not leaving you." Jessica said, looking up into his eyes. The slightest twinge of her Irish accent started to peak through as she continued. "Not now, not ever."

  "I love you, Jess." David replied. Bracing his forearm against the bed, he ran his fingers down the length of her body. Her dress was hiked up around her thighs. David shifted his glance back up to her dark eyes. "I missed you so much."

  Jessica sat up slightly, running her fingers down his lean bicep. "I missed you too." She paused for a moment, pulling a pin out of her up-do, letting her brown hair tumble down around her shoulders. She continued after considering her words for a moment. Her eyebrow arched in curiosity. "Do you not want to do this?"

  David looked down at her, running his fingers through the thick stands of hair fanned out behind her on the bed. He felt her eyes on him, studying his face. "You know you can talk to me, David. About anything. I hope you understand that."

  David thought for a moment before he spoke. "I've been thinking about this for months." His tongue felt heavy, like it was packed with sand.

  There was no way he couldn't have played through this situation in his head for the months he was trapped in an American trench on the Western front. He blinked for a moment, the warmth of her body in the heat of an early June, the strong scent of her perfume almost overloading his senses. He wanted to have her immediately.

  David dropped his head. He kissed her, starting at her collarbone and gradually working his way up until he finally reached her lips. He gently ran his hand underneath Jessica's skirt. He consciously kept his pace slow, waiting for her to protest, or pull back from his touch. As his fingers slid higher, and Jessica didn't stop him, he grew more confident.<
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  Running is fingers over her thigh's, she arched her hips, responding breathlessly to his touch as if a sudden shot of electricity arched through her body. He heard a slight hitch in her breathing as he slid her underwear down her legs, every muscle in her body seized.

  "Are you all right?" David asked, pulling his hand back from her body. He looked over her carefully, suddenly afraid of continuing. "Did I hurt you?"

  Jessica jumped in, her voice a husky whisper. "Keep going." Looking up at him, her eyes were soft, pleading David to continue. She took his hand, and guided his fingers back under her skirt. "That feels..." Her sentence was interrupted by a soft moan as he slid inside of her. She arched her shoulders under him, a slight grimace crossing her face as he slowly pushed himself into her. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she bit back a gasp, a strange mixture of pleasure and pain in her eyes.

 

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