I like words because they can contain… fantasies.James Lusarde, The Train of Arousal
Confessionals and Currency Sheer scarves cover a bedside lamp as night slips in on tiger paws the swaying beams of a velvet moon drift through veils of lilac tulle Her eggshell limbs are caught in binds, her breasts alert gazelles she is the red of womanhood her eyes the shade of currency Her mind is his confessional and there is no sin grave enough By Holly Rene Hunter
A bobcat prowled in the shifting shadows between moonbeams of silver light. He stopped to watch the window where light glowed behind the lace curtains casting a lavender hue that interested him. Only here could he see such things. Ears twitched to locate the unwary mouse in the dry grass and he forgot the den of humans to seek out his meal on quiet paws. As the wildcat crept toward the rustling sound across the backyard of the house, the wind chanted like Tibetan Monks through the upper branches of tall pines giving the trees the look and sound of sentient beings lumbering down an illuminated path. Long shadows leapt forward and back to keep time with the changing wind.
Inside the bedroom, the lumbering giants outside cast ghostly shapes against the tulle curtains. A lamp in the opposite corner burned a single bulb under a faded red scarf thrown over the lampshade to paint the room in hues of sunrise and allay Kara’s fear of the dark. She rested on her side and watched the shadows dance across the curtains.
Somewhere a bobcat growled setting the dogs on edge.
Viktor placed his arm over Kara, moved closer and pressed his hips against her. She opened her legs to accommodate his thigh pressing between her legs. She felt safe now. She always felt safe with Viktor. She had practically grown up in his protective shadow. Sleep tried to intrude on her fantasy, a waking dream that begged Viktor to make love to her in wanton ways when she was barely out of school. Why had they waited? And, why had she pursued him all those years, especially when he went away to college? Obsessions die long hard deaths, she thought. Oh, what we won’t do for love? Whoever came up with that was someone that understood love’s obsessions.
“Can’t sleep, babe?” Viktor whispered against the back of her neck. A quivering chill raced down Kara’s shoulders and spine.
Kara arched her lower back to press harder against Viktor. “I was just thinking about when I first fell in love with you and how long it took you to wrestle my virginity away from me.”
“It’s 3:00 am Honey. How do you think about such things so early?”
Kara rolled over and slipped on top of his hips, covering him with long strands of hair spilling down from her head. She rested her forehead on his, staring deep in his amused eyes while teasing his lips with hers. “It’s easy when my husband gets so aroused by me. I can’t think of anything else.” Kara rocked her hips slowly while she watched his face. There, good boy. His, I want you, was direct, to the point, decisive, and she gave him what he wanted when he wanted it because, she wanted it too. Ha, my mind is full of giving in so carelessly. She often felt Viktor gave more than he got from her. Not now though. She was in charge of his wants.
The Bobcat screeched a warning and disappeared in the wood line.
Seven Years Earlier
It was bitter cold at the bus stop. Kara had left her coat for her mother to go on a job interview. They needed the money since her father died last spring. She wore a wool sweater and kept her hands in her jean pockets but the cold wind still cut through her. She shivered a few feet away from Viktor hoping he would block some of the wind. She also wanted to stay as far away from those other boys as possible. She was sick of them picking on her. She didn’t need them to remind her that she was sixteen and didn’t have boobs yet. She cringed when she thought about her legs being so thin and her knees looking like softballs perched on baseball bats. She wanted a full bust and round butt like her friend Becky and all she had was a bag of knobby bones to work with.
A snowball slammed into the side of Kara’s face and the gang of boys burst into laughter. It wouldn’t stop until she could lock herself in her room after school. From her glance through disheveled hair, she could see Viktor looking over at her as she shivered as much from the cold as from the shock of being hit in the face with ice. She tried to hide her shame and misery from him.
“You nitwits cut it out or I’ll nail your nuts to the tree.”
No one argued with Viktor. He was a senior on the football team. He was also the team leader for the wrestling team and had never lost a match in three years. His threat instantly shut down the jovial mood Kara’s tormentors always enjoyed at her expense. He walked up to her and all she wanted was to keep to herself. She was at the bus stop every day and still, he didn’t know her name.
“Are you okay? You look like you are freezing to death.”
Kara, humiliated, could only look down and turn her head. She felt enveloped in Viktor’s jacket as his arm folded across her neck and pulled her against his chest. He zipped her skinny frame inside with only her face peeking out at the neck and oh, my god, frozen on her lips. Viktor brushed the snow out of her hair and then rubbed her back briskly. Kara’s legs felt weak. The stunned juvies turned away to avoid being witnesses to this strange act of cootie-girl rescue.
Warmth enveloped Kara and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Viktor and held herself as close as she could get. He smelled good. Something slithered in the saurian lake of her feminine subconscious. Urges came unbidden to her. She wanted to attach herself to Viktor and never leave his side.
“Thank you, Viktor, but why?” Kara said to his chin.
“In my country, we do not let girls get treated in such a way. You remind me of my Little Sparrow. I will not let these boys bother you anymore,” Viktor vowed.
Growing strangely comfortable with Viktor, Kara asked, “Who was Little Sparrow, your sister?”
“No. She was my neighbor’s daughter. I walked her to school each day until the war came. The anarchists came and took her away. They left only her bones for us to bury.” Viktor clenched his jaw and Kara felt him tense. She had no words. She could not imagine such things. “I’m sorry,” was all she could get out.
In the silence between the rise and fall of their breath and the beat of hearts, Kara heard herself ask, “Can I be your Little Sparrow?”
Viktor smiled with wet eyes glistening and cleared a dry throat to choke something down that threatened him with remembrances better forgotten. Kara placed her cheek against his chest and squeezed harder to comfort him. She felt his hand rub her back like one soothes a child. She accepted it. She would take whatever morsel of attention he would give her.
The bus roared up and slung open the door breaking the quiet moment between them. Viktor opened his jacket and followed Kara on the bus. She sat and looked up in his face and studied his dark eyes and mouth in a way she never had before. Her hand patted the seat cushion next to her to invite him to sit with her. Becky was waiting for Kara and slid in front of Viktor, looked up at him and said hi, before jumping in next to Kara.
“Kara, you are never going to guess who just asked me to prom. Go ahead just guess.” Becky’s fingernails dug into Kara’s arm and she shook the poor girl like a candy machine that took her money and didn’t deliver the treat. Kara looked past Becky for Viktor. He sat at the back of the bus looking at his notebook. Becky stared at Kara. “What’s wrong with you? I bring you the most important news in my entire life and you just look around like I’m not even here,” Becky huffed.
“I’m sorry Becky. I’m so dizzy, I can’t think.”
“Did you get yourself knocked up Kara?”
“Oh God no, Becky. Stop.”
“Jerry asked me to the Prom and he wants me to stay out all night at a barn party.”
“The one and only,” Becky cooed.
“You’re going to get knocked up long before I do if you are going out with him,” Kara said with barely veiled sarcasm before she put her head in her hands and willed herself to go deaf.
Becky tried to stifle a lewd grin and decided to leave Kara to her jealous misery.
To be continued. . .