Descent Into Darkness

by Michael Cross

  The waves felt wonderful as they rushed over my body. I almost felt the same euphoria as I had in the Columbia River. I looked behind me at the sandy cliffs and long beach and then turned to view the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. I noticed a huge aircraft carrier moving across the horizon; which was something you would never see at the river, nor could one look up and see hang gliders of various colors flying overhead like human kites for that matter. Katja, balancing herself in the waves, called out, “Let’s swim out into the surf!” I yelled back, “I’d love to but shouldn’t we find a place with more people, just in case there is a shark? At least that decreases our odds of becoming dinner.” She replied, “I like the way you think!” and so we started to head back to our belongings. Yet I decided to grab her hand in an attempt to encourage her to walk with me to better swimming spot. She seemed reluctant at first and asked, “What if someone steals our things?” I told her to wait there. I ran up, grabbed my car key and used a shoelace to tie it around my neck. I ran back and giggled, “Well, if someone takes our things, we at least can still drive back to the hotel.” She laughed and said that it would be interesting and she agreed, and took my hand as we walked to a section of the beach with a lot of swimmers.

  On the way back Katja pointed to two women who were in the surf and kissing one another. She said, disapprovingly, “You do not see so much of that in Russia. I do not understand such people.” I nodded in agreement, obviously not prepared to let on that I was feeling envious of those women as I missed Nicole at that moment – realizing that it could be us out there if not for the unfortunate turn of events. Of course, I had to joke back at her, “You know Katja… people here probably think we are more than friends seeing us holding hands and all.” She commented, “Oh who cares what they think?” as she continued to grasp my hand as we walked back to our things.

  That evening we ate at a lovely Mexican restaurant in La Jolla. It was Katja who commented, “I feel like I may have been in the sun too long today, but I would very much like to go back to the beach tomorrow.” I thought about my plan but decided to wait – perhaps for the next day at the beach. For the moment we were just having a good time; so much so that I forgot that I needed to call Nicole and Matt, as well as the children.

  After the meal we walked along a path lined with palm trees on the beach. As we were watching the many Hispanic families eating or playing in the park area Katja asked, “You must be missing your children.” I actually did, but I told her, “Yes, I miss them very much. However, I intend to make sure they are safe at any cost!” She said she understood and then I asked her, “How far would you go to get justice for your sister?” Katja sat down and motioned for me to do the same. She looked at the setting sun and said, “If it means that I die in getting revenge, as long as the last thing I see in this life is the corpse of the man who killed her, then I will die in victory!”

  I liked her response. I then asked, “You are willing to sacrifice your life…are you willing to sacrifice everything you hold dear?” She looked at me in a puzzled way and I continued, “Katja, it must be really hard to kill someone up close, are you really up for that?” She hesitated a moment, “Yes, I think I am.” I then asked, “What if you had to…never mind.” Katja asked, “What? Tell me!” I took her hand and asked if I could share my thoughts with her the next day back at the beach. I then said, “We need to buy one of those beach umbrellas on the way back to the hotel or else we will look like lobsters.” She laughed and glanced up at the sky for a moment. Katja said, “I wish I had my camera right now…it is so beautiful.” I caressed her back for a split second and said, “We need to go.”

  Once back at the hotel I asked Katja if I could have a few minutes in private so I could talk with my family. She grabbed her bikini and said she would go swim a few minutes in the pool. At that I called…and Nicole answered in a hushed voice, “Hi there cutie. Are you okay?” I said I was fine but that there was nothing to report on the fire. She then said, “Matt is feeling less pain and the children are enjoying themselves.” I inquired, “What is my father like?” At that she hesitated, “He has been very nice to Matt as well as me. Strange though…he doesn’t seem to really be into the children at all.” I was sort of glad to hear that; I did not want them bonding with him too much. She said they were going shopping in the village near his house the next day, and that everything was fine except the food was not that good.

  I then urged her, “Nicole, make sure Matt is happy and when he wakes up dedicate a kiss for me…or if you like you can dedicate something even more special for him.” She laughed and said she would most certainly if the kids were still asleep. She joked, “Should I leave the web cam on?” At that I laughed and gave her a look like I was thinking about it and then said, “No…it would just make me want to be with you two a lot more!” She then responded, “I love you Melanie – please be careful.” I touched the screen with my hand and then shut off the transmission.

  The next morning Katja and I spent a couple of hours window shopping in La Jolla. We planned on going back to the beach around 2pm when the sun would not be so intense. Until then we just played the role of young female tourists.

  When we finally did get back to the beach Katja lost no time in stripping down; even before we were able to set up the umbrella. We then did a re-play of the day before except, when we passed by a group of college-age people playing volleyball I dared her to join in with me. The funny thing was that she turned the game into a real match as she scored point after point. I was certain by then any inhibitions against being naked in front of others had been erased in her.

  When we returned to our little site we again started discussing our mutual admiration of nature. After a while I promised to take her camping with me and she said she would love that opportunity. It was now time to share my plan with her!

  I said, “Katja, we know that your sister worked at that bar you staked out…there is something I have not told you…” I went on to point out everything from where I had first met the cops in her pictures to the fire itself. I then asked, “What do you think?” She quickly responded, grabbing my hand firmly, “These cops work in vice? I don’t remember, but I may have talked with one of them when I first started looking in Portland. And now…they must be involved!” I then asked, “So how do we find a connection?”

  Just before I was about to give my suggestion, she swallowed so hard that I could hear the gulp, “Maybe I should go undercover at that club and try to find out what is going on!” This was wonderful! She had brought up what I had in mind before even deciding to head to San Diego. I had to act surprised as I asked, “You would be willing to do this…to avenge your sister and help me catch who tried to hurt me?” She said she would…in what I was now able to interpret as her hesitant manner. I stood up, “Think they would hire me as well?” Her eyes opened wide and she said, “Melanie, you are married, you have kids and you are a senator…you can’t be serious.” I again asked, “So I am not attractive enough?” She apologized, “I am sorry – yes, you are very beautiful, but I meant…” I interrupted her, “I know what you meant. Now listen. You are willing to do anything to avenge your sister…I am willing to do everything to protect my children.”

  Katja nodded her head. She then asked me to give her details of my plan. I first said, “I have a rather unique tattoo, right?” She commented, “It is very beautiful…you know I like fairies.” I nodded and continued, “I need to go to a tattoo shop and get some sort of temporary paint around it so nobody could use it to identify me. As for you…” She shook her head, “I like to see body art but I don’t think I need anything.” I continued, “We also need to go to a shop and get some clothes that practically scream out, ‘stripper!’ and we also need to dye our hair and get extensions so nobody can possibly recognize us.” I proposed we spend the rest of the afternoon getting this done.

  Katja sat there with her knees drawn to her chin and just staring at me. She then, in a determined manner said, “I wil
l do it!” I smiled and reached out to touch her leg to re-assure her. She put her hand on mine and said, “I guess we are partners to the end, huh?” I merely responded, “Yes, and friends too!”

  That evening sort of reminded me of the day Nicole and I had shopped for clothes for capturing, castrating and killing the bully on the tree. I really wished I could share my secret with Katja to show that I was indeed experienced in such matters, but that would be impossible at that moment. We first went to a clothing store and bought some wild outfits that would have made Bethany proud. We also bought some high heeled shoes that Katja said would cause great envy among women on the streets of Moscow. Once done there, and wearing our new clothes, we found a tattoo parlor and I explained what I wanted. The owner tried to sell us both on getting something permanent, but when we declined he gave me what I wanted, and said it had to be touched up every couple of weeks if I wanted it to remain real-looking. So in the end I had a large ethnic or Celtic tattoo placed on my lower back and a dragon wrapped around my actual tattoo. However, before leaving the store Katja stopped at a picture of an Aries birth sign etched on a woman’s lower back. She commented, “If I were to get a tattoo this one is beautiful.” I joked, “The tattoo or the woman?” She poked me and laughed, “The tattoo of course!” I smiled and said, “Maybe someday we should come back and get a few tattoos and a Harley.” She smiled and replied, “That could be fun. I’ll think about it.”

  On the way back to the apartment, as I realized my plan was actually developing nicely, I did have a moment of hesitation. I asked, “Katja, how sure are you of going through with this?” She did not even flinch as she stared out the window at the lights of the city, “I am 100% committed!” I then pulled over, checked the GPS, and then said, “Well, then it is not even mid-night so let’s see exactly what we will be doing.” At that I found directions to a club and we were off.

  When we arrived at the destination it was much larger than the one we staked out in Portland. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot but I found a spot. I asked Katja, more to convince myself actually, “Here we are…I guess we should see what we will be doing, right?” Katja did not even answer as she opened the door and, in a determined voice said, “Come on then.”

  We entered the place and looked around for seating. A woman approached wearing a French maid’s outfit and thong, and asked in a voice that reminded me of some bimbo from a 1950s B movie, “Welcome. I’m Chelsea. Are you here for auditions or for the show?” Katja replied, “Please just get us a table.” She smiled, “Follow me.” We followed and I could not help but feel totally out of place as she led us with her jiggling posterior towards a table in the back. After we sat down I took notice of several men staring at us as well as a man and woman in leather across the room checking out Katja. The people in the bar were mostly men but a few couples, like the leather duo. I developed an instant negative view of the cliental…not because they were low class, some seemed well-dressed and middle-class-looking, but maybe because I felt the atmosphere was cheap and degrading – especially as I observed some of the dancers leave the stage and perform at the tables of admiring voyeurs. It was as if the bar had once been a 1970s disco, complete with giant mirrored ball, that someone had decided to replace the polyester-clad dancers with gyrating naked young women.

  As for those dancers we were there for only a moment when Katja commented, “They aren’t very good are they?” I answered, “What?” and she continued, “The dancers…I mean they are just moving around without any form.” I looked at her in amusement – I thought I was the only person who analyzed even the most absurd.

  Just then, Chelsea-the-waitress returned and asked us what we would have. Katja asked for a strawberry daiquiri and then looked at me and said she was paying. I asked for a soft drink. She asked, “You don’t drink, do you?” I smiled and played with the menu before answering, “No…I once gave it a try, but I will not touch it ever again.” She looked at me and said, “I admire you. A couple of times I decided to become super healthy but something always came up and I gave in to taking a drink. Maybe someday I will totally quit.”

  Just then a disgusting middle-aged man, slightly balding, a bit overweight and wearing one of those hideous flowered beach shirts approached and asked, “Hello girls, can I buy you a drink?” I glared at him, took Katja by the hand, and replied, “Look fella, she is mine so beat it!” He stepped back and sneered at us as he mumbled, “Stupid dykes” and then walked off. Katja giggled, “Good work, although pretty disgusting…I mean, not you, you are nice, but not in…you understand, right?” I laughed and looked back at the stage.

  Just then Katja sat up a bit as a new dancer with long black hair came out. Katja watched her a moment and then said, “She must be Russian.” I asked why she thought so and her reply was, “Look at her…the way she carries herself, her looks…she has grown up probably training for ballet as I did.” A few minutes later the woman and Katja seemed to catch each other’s eyes and once the song ended, and the woman gathered up the money tossed by eager patrons, she put the money in the outfit she had been wearing, put the clothes behind the bar and walked over to us without any apparent apprehension of her nudity. Standing next to our table she looked at me and asked, “Gavaru pa Ruskie” to which Katja answered something in Russian. As they were talking the dancer looked back at me, said something, and all I could catch from Katja was the familiar, “Nyet.”

  They kept talking for a few minutes and again the dancer looked at me, “Nice to meet you…tell your friend to give it a try.” When she left I asked what she meant and then Katja laughed in an embarrassed sort of way, “Okay Melanie, she asked me to join her in a dance later on. I of course said no way.” I then leaned forward, “Well, it would be good practice.” Katja looked at me with her mouth wide open, “Are you serious? You are serious, aren’t you?” I nodded my head and she leaned back, sipped on her drink, looked at me, and then took a couple of gulps before saying, “Okay, anything you say!” She then got up and walked over to the bartender who then went backstage and returned with the Russian girl. She and Katja talked a moment and then the bartender poured her a large drink, which she finished without even taking a breath. She sat the glass down, turned, and winked at me before disappearing backstage.

  About fifteen minutes later the DJ said something about welcoming an amateur from “the land of nukes, bears and beautiful women” and then both Katja and the girl came out on stage. Katja was wearing some sort of outfit that seemed like an erotic interpretation of a Russian schoolgirl – short skirt, high heels and a fur cap. Apparently she had borrowed these things from the girl, who now I could see was about the same height as Katja. The performance that soon began was pleasing to the audience as everyone’s eyes were fixed on them. At first Katja seemed hesitant to follow her dance partner’s lead in removing all her clothes but as the audience began to call out, “Take it off!” and “Yeah, do it!” the now-nude stripper whispered something in Katja’s ear and she smiled and within a minute of dancing she was completely naked. As another rave-style song began both approached the stripper pole and the stripper demonstrated her talents. Then it was Katja’s turn. What impressed me were Katja’s obvious gymnastic skills as she did a routine on the pole that demonstrated her flexibility as well as leaving nothing to the imagination for the appreciative audience.

  Then an awkward moment seemed to occur. The girl moved behind Katja and took hold of her breasts. However, if that was not enough to cause her to take on an uncomfortable look, the girl proceeded to lick Katja’s neck from the base to her ear. The guys in the audience roared in approval, and both Katja and the other girl were showered in money. Katja was expressionless however and danced away from the girl. After about fifteen seconds, when the song ended, she quickly exited the stage and into the back without even offering to pick up the outfit or any of the money.

  Very soon afterwards Katja came storming back to the table, while buttoning her blouse and asked, “Can we please
go?” I got up and followed her as she darted through the people seated at the tables. When we were outside I asked, “Hey, are you okay?” Katja turned around and practically screamed, “That woman…you saw what she did up there…and she was from my country!” I responded, “I understand. If you did not expect it then it was really rude.” Katja folded her arms and leaned against the car, “She grabbed me…can you believe it? I am not some perverted woman!”

  A part of me felt like asking what she meant by her statement…after all, I did not feel like a ‘pervert’ but I was certainly not going to volunteer any information about my personal life. I replied, “Maybe she found you attractive.” Katja, however, replied, “No, she just wanted those disgusting men to get excited, that is all. She used me.” I asked her to get in the car and we sped away.

  On the way to the hotel Katja seemed to calm down a bit. I commented, “You were great on the stage, I have to admit you are also in great shape.” Katja laughed and said, “Thank you. I am sorry for getting mad. I guess it was all so unfamiliar.” I had hoped this would not turn her off to our plan, but before I could say anything else she reached behind my head and began to caress my neck as she stated, “I guess I will not be so timid the next time I am on stage.” I remained silent for a moment, saying nothing of her gentle massage. I finally said, “Only one thing left to do; tomorrow we need to find a good beauty salon.”

  That evening, while Katja slept, I went into the bathroom and turned on my computer. I called and, to my delight, Matt answered. I knew I could not let him see the new me that would emerge the next day so I spent a lot of time talking to him, the children and then, when Nicole was on, I asked that she make sure to support whatever excuse I would give for not making visual calls. She asked, in a very hushed voice, “What in the world are you planning?” I shook my head, “Don’t worry. I just have to change my appearance for a while.” She looked at me, exhibiting a fearful expression, so I tried to re-assure her, “Don’t worry, everything is under control.” She sighed, “I hope so.” She ended the call with, “I love you!” and I replied, “I know…you do a great job showing me that – and I love you as well.”