A New Life Series - Finisher Set

by Samantha Jacobey

  Tori smiled to herself, feeling only slightly put out that they were making fun of her lack of common knowledge. “Ok, well someday, you’re gonna have to explain that one to me. But, as it were, we lived in a beautiful rainforest, which had a small cabin in the center where we prepared meals and supplies were stored, along with my wall of books.”

  “There were four of the Dragons who stayed with me all the time. Henry, Michael’s brother, was my full-time caretaker, always looking after me, but there were also three others. The rest of the Dragons had left for a few months and would return later in the year, when the seasons changed.”

  Shifting, she stretched out her legs and continued, “I was getting old enough, and the group had begun to teach me more about grown up things, such as building a fire, hunting and preparing food. This was the first time they took me anaconda hunting. I was only about five foot tall, but they agreed it would be safe for me to be out and about without too much risk of being seen as prey by larger snakes.”

  “Holy shit,” Brian’s eyes grew wide, “You mean snakes would come after you? Like, chase you?”

  It was Tori’s turn to laugh, “I told you, it was a jungle. Yeah, I learned right away that we only stayed on top of the food chain if we were smart. Danger always lay around us.”

  “So anyways, we had sticks that we used when we hunted, and they taught me how to fashion a set for myself. Carrying the sticks, we went down to the water that ran along the western side of our property. The trees there were massive, hanging over the dirty water in huge arches.” Her eyes held a distant glaze as she described it.

  “Along the water’s edge, there lived a large den of capybara, which we ate fairly often.” Seeing his confused grimace, she elaborated, “A capybara is basically a large rat, so to speak, being in the rodent family. They live in small groups, but sometimes larger numbers. Anacondas love to eat them, so they made good bait for the snakes.”

  “Using the sticks and a machete, we would capture and kill the longer serpents, anywhere from five feet and up, preferring to pass if they were less than five feet long. I had never been with them on a hunt before, and found it a thrilling event, the only drawback being the bugs.” She giggled at how the mosquitos had triggered the happy memory.

  Michael laughed too, remembering the rattlesnake she had made it look so easy to acquire. “A skill to last a lifetime,” he teased.

  “Of course, but anacondas don’t have venom, so there’s a lot less danger in that respect. And if you use your stick properly and don’t piss them off, they are rather docile creatures. Fast little suckers too. Did you know they can live for months on one good meal? Amazing really.” She still had a faraway expression on her face as her voice trailed away.

  Relieved, Brian spouted, “I thought your life was terrible before you were found.” He gave Michael a scowl, having been told how she had been raped and regularly beaten.

  “That was after I joined the group. When I was young, things were different. They treated me well for the most part, except that I was alone, with no other children around, and I really didn’t understand things. It wasn’t so bad, it just wasn’t normal.” Tori looked at the ground for a moment, feeling conflicted about her childhood.

  Brian nodded slowly, “Yeah, after the accident, my life changed, too. I moved to grandma and grandpa’s farm permanently, and lived there about nine years before grandma died. She had been sick a long time though. Even when you were still around, she wasn’t doing well, so it was amazing she lasted that long.” He paused for a moment of reflection and she gave him a small grin.

  “I had really gotten into my guitar and wanted to go make music with the group, but grandpa didn’t want me to go. Said he needed my help on the farm. Then he got sick and died unexpectedly a short time after her, and I was suddenly free.”

  His face drawn into a frown, Tori asked, “Weren’t you happy then? Because you really don’t look like it.”

  Brian shrugged, “It turned out to be a lot more work than I thought it would be, and after that, I basically had no family left to speak of. A few aunts and uncles, some cousins, but I haven’t seen or heard from any of them since grandpa’s funeral.”

  He flopped his hands in a more exaggerated manner. “I guess I got to where I kept people away from me. Kinda hard to know who to trust, much less not wanting to care about someone I would eventually lose.”

  Tori nodded; she knew exactly what he meant.

  Looking over at her husband, she had a familiar stab of pain and fear of losing what little she had. She loved him and hoped he knew how precious he was to her. Reaching, she ran the backs of her fingers along his denim covered leg that lay stretched out beside her own.

  Speaking softly, “We have a lot in common, don’t we. I’m glad we got this chance to know each other. I’m sure our lives won’t ever be close, but hopefully you’ll make time to visit me down the road.” She smiled, having effectively dismissed his idea of going with him to New York when he left. She knew Michael wouldn’t want her there, and she wasn’t about to let him down if she could help it.

  The night closed in around them, and they put the candle out as they made their way inside. Brian wasn’t ready to give up on his idea of taking her home with him, so he didn’t comment on her final observation, allowing the couple to go to bed in peace.

  Safely inside their room, Michael put his hands on his wife as soon as the door had been shut. He loved the way she felt and always yielded to his touch, eager to please him. Kissing her deeply, he ran his hands over her body before he began to remove her clothing. She smiled widely at him, returning the caresses.

  Their hunger building, they undressed in a playful silence, kicking off boots and lifting shirts over their heads. Running her fingers through the hairs that camouflaged her name, she felt a gleeful twist in her stomach, knowing he loved her so much.

  Kissing her again, his hands raked over her while removing her clothing and dropping it on the floor. Guiding her over to the bed, he lay her down, kissing bare skin along her torso as his face slid down towards the warm folds that he so dearly adored toying with.

  Michael, thrilled by the taste of her, ran his fingers across her hairs and listening to the gentle pants the movement produced. She had learned to trust him at this, and he recalled how hard it had been for her to endure on their wedding day.

  Tonight she felt eager, knowing he would put her over the edge, giving her that feeling that sapped her strength and satisfied her desire like no other man ever had or could.

  Painful Truth

  The following morning, Tori made an appointment to see a doctor, his office located in a nearby town. She felt nervous, having never experienced a real gynecological exam before. Fortunately, it was a small practice, so she got in before the end of the week.

  The morning of the appointment, she dressed early, leaving a note on the table that she would be back after lunch, and left the house before either of the two men were awake. She wasn’t willing to share her thoughts with her husband, wanting to spare his feelings. No sense getting his hopes up if it’s really not an option; I’ll tell him when I know something concrete.

  Stopping by the diner to visit with Trish, she saw the older woman smile as she pushed through the glass door. Her eyes were warm, but she hung back slightly, so the girl took a seat at the short counter and laid it on the line, “Why is everyone acting so funny around me?”

  Trish’s expression changed to surprise, “Well, hun; we aren’t really sure if you’re ready, I guess.”

  “Ready,” Tori appeared thoughtful for a moment, ready for what?

  Seeing her troubled eyes, her friend continued, “Ya know, Michael loves you. He did his best t’ explain why you was picked up by those detectives and how you had been hiding here. He was tryin’ t’ protect you and not tell things you wouldn’t want everyone t’ know, so that left a lot o’ room for those with loose tongues t’ make up a story they wanted t’ tell.”

  Tori star
ed at her, grasping her meaning. People have been talking and the things they’re saying aren’t nice, and more than likely false. The saddest part, they are probably things not nearly as bad as the painful truth. Nodding slowly, she spoke in a loud whisper, “Well then, I guess it’s time I set the record straight if I plan on staying here.”

  “You don’t have t’ explain anything t’ me,” Trish gave her friend an encouraging shake of her head. “I’ve been around a long time, an’ I know th’ look o’ needing a new life when I see it. You don’ owe these other yahoos any explanation either. You just go on, bein’ who you are, an’ it’ll all take care o’ itself.” She had placed her hand on top of the girl’s and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

  Tori felt better as she looked into the bright green eyes of her best friend. Managing a small smile, she inquired about the boys. “So, they’ll be coming over next week after school then?”

  “Yeah,” Trish agreed, “But it may take a few days for Chris t’ feel comfortable again, havin’ heard some o’ the stories, but it’ll work out.”

  Tori only nodded, checking the time and deciding to go. She trotted out to her pickup, glad she had made the effort to check in with the diner’s owner. That woman has her finger on the pulse of the town and knows what’s going on, she grinned sheepishly. There are at least a few people who care about me still around.

  It took about half an hour for her to arrive at the medical facility. Inside, Tori could feel the butterflies in her stomach. A cheerful place, the walls were painted mint green with bright pink accents. The girl at the front desk wore her honey colored hair swept up into a bun, with perky red lipstick and nails. Studying them as the girl wrote with a ballpoint pen, Tori considered the manicure session she had shared with Sharon and Lins back in LA, the memory causing her to shudder.

  Holding out a clipboard, the girl instructed, “Take the little sticker and place it on the tube after you put your urine sample into it in the bathroom. Then, fill out the paperwork and return it to the counter.” The girl chewed her gum noisily while she spoke. “Any questions?” she asked in a tone that made Tori uncomfortable; she refrained from making any queries, deciding she would figure it out.

  Laying the clipboard on a pink upholstered chair, she went through the entry labeled restroom and closed the door. Snapping the lock, she looked around and noticed a detailed list of directions on the wall for her to follow.

  Taking one of the paper cups, she filled it while she sat on the toilet, and then transferred the warm liquid into one of the small tubes. Attaching the sticker that contained her name to the tube, she placed it in the rack that sat in the pass through, presumably so the lab could get it from the other side, and slid the door closed. Finally, washing her hands, she exited the small room.

  Inhaling deeply, she gave herself a pep-talk. You’re ok, baby girl; this is something you need to do. Lifting the board, Tori took the seat and began to go over the forms. She quickly realized she had no idea what her family history held, and her own sketchy at best. Providing what little she could, she took the items to the counter, and the girl scowled at the lack of information that had been given.

  “I also need your insurance card,” the lively red lips snapped.

  Tori shrugged, “I don’t have insurance; I’ll pay cash for whatever the bill is.”

  The girl gave her a dubious glare as she indicated for her to sit again and wait to be called.

  The chilled air in the waiting area left her glad that she wore her leather jacket, an accessory she seldom went without. Flipping through a few magazines, Tori crossed her legs and bounced her foot nervously.

  Inspecting her wedding band, she thought about Michael’s message to her hidden inside. The memory of the day he gave it to her came flooding back to her, and she smiled, hoping the doctor would have good news for them and their plans for the future would be bright.

  After what seemed like an eternity, a nurse in hot pink scrubs opened a wide door and indicated Tori should follow her. Leading her into the back, she said, “Go ahead an’ take off yur jacket hun, le’s get a good weight on you.” Tori noticed her inspecting her scarred arms as she took her blood pressure and recorded her height on the paperwork.

  Next, the woman led her down a narrow hallway to a room containing an odd bench in the center and a chair in the corner, a curtain hanging next to it. Handing her a sheet, she commanded “Take off all yur clothes an’ sit on th’ table. Cover yourself with this, an’ th’ doctor’ll be in shortly.”

  Left alone, Tori unfolded the wrap. Frowning, she thought of her days in the bush camp, when Tony had tended to her while she sat naked in front of God and everyone. I guess other women must be a great deal more self-conscious than I am.

  Kicking off her boots and doing as instructed, she climbed onto the table wrapped in the fabric. Considering her past life, she would have passed on the uncomfortable cloth. This damn thing should’ve been about two foot larger than it is. But, the doctor might find me sitting buck naked out of line, so I guess I’ll do my best to comply.

  Waiting long enough for boredom to set in, Tori’s eyes scanned the room impatiently. The entry lay to her left, and straight across the small dressing area with a hanging curtain. The remainder of the wall held cabinets, which Tori might have been curious about, but not enough to investigate in her sheet covered condition.

  The narrow table she perched on had been topped with paper that crinkled when she moved, and flanked on both sides by large machines against the wall at the head end. She noticed one of them had a monitor on it, with a keyboard below. Leaning over, she inspected it more closely without leaving her perch.

  There were also charts and books littering the counter, adorned with pictures of female reproductive organs and the things that can go wrong with them; a truly unnerving sight for someone in her condition. She looked over what she could see from her vantage point, waiting for the door to open so they could get on with it.

  A short time later, there came a small rap on the door, and a middle-aged man with the beginnings of grey in his dark hair entered, followed by another young girl who carried a laptop. He smiled as their eyes met, and Tori gave him a small grin.

  She again felt self-conscious of the markings that covered her body as he offered his hand, which she managed to give a limp shake. He instructed her to lie down on the table so he could examine her breasts.

  Feeling them briefly through the thin material, he moved back to the foot end of the table, asking her to place one foot in each stirrup and slide down so that her rear end rested in the proper position. Unexplainably, Tori’s heart began to pound. Relax, she clenched her fists, you’ve been seen and touched by lots of men, but this was a whole different experience, with much more at stake.

  Covered in latex gloves, his fingers felt cold as they touched her female parts. He continued to explain the process in a soothing tone while he took a sample for the lab and dropped it in a small jar. Closing the lid, he placed it on the counter next to the literature. He then slid a few of his digits inside her and pressed down on her lower abdomen, making observations to the girl who busily typed notes using her small computer.

  Not able to see everything fully, Tori breathed deeply as the exam continued, occasionally feeling a stab of pain that caused her to inhale sharply. Beginning to tremble, either from the coldness of the air or the uncertainty of the events taking place, she struggled to remain in control.

  Finally, removing the stretchy coverings, the doctor tossed them into the wastebasket while giving her permission to sit up. Leaning his rear end against the counter facing her, he studied her for a moment and then commented, “I’m curious about your history; your information here is almost blank. Do you have any previous records that I might go over?”

  Thinking briefly about Dr. Bennet and his medical examination, she shook her head and lifted her chin to reply, “Not that I would trust. I’ve never really seen doctors before.”

  He smiled slightly and
stood thinking for a moment.

  Tori played with her fingers in her lap, the sheet clutched about her and anxiety beginning to show as she stared at him with wide eyes.

  “If there aren’t any records,” he opened is palm towards her, “Is there anything in your past you feel might be relevant here? Any kind of trauma, accidents, anything? You listed a prior pregnancy,” he glanced over at her chart, “But zero live births. I feel as if I need to know some details about that.”

  Tori looked at her hands, bouncing her feet slightly as she considered how to reply. Giving him a slow nod, she pursed her lips, “I was raised by a group of men,” she explained briefly. “I had a pretty normal childhood, but after my periods came, I was abused physically… sexually…”

  She broke off, picking at her nails as she recalled her induction. “One of them gave me an abortion, with a clothes hanger, about six years ago. He wanted to keep me from ever getting pregnant again. That’s why I’m here really; I want to know if it’s true, and if it can be fixed.”

  Nodding, he asked for more, “And what’re your periods like?”

  “After the procedure, I only get a bit of spotting. Pretty unpredictable really.” Looking hopeful, she added, “But back when I started getting them, you know, for the couple of years before the abortion, they came every twenty-eight days, lasted four, and I could set a calendar by them.”

  The doctor raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Couple of years? It says here you’re twenty-five years old.” He did some quick math with his fingers, “That puts you at, what, around seventeen at your menarche? That’s very late. They didn’t take you to a doctor then?”

  Tori shook her head, not really sure what he meant. She had begun to regret her choice to see him, as he made her feel very wrong about herself. Seeing that he waited for an actual answer, she conceded, “I don’t know what that means, menarche. There had been some concern about my puberty coming late, but no doctor.” She didn’t want to go into details about where and how she had grown up, already put out by what she had shared.