Descent Into Darkness

by Michael Cross

  The only thing that took away from the atmosphere was the chandeliers hanging from various locations on the ceiling that seemed totally out of place, as well as not even really matching each other. Also, the music playing sounded like pop mixed with Middle Eastern. I asked what language the guy was singing in and Katja nervously said, “It is Chechen.” I took her hand and smiled but she just stared at the man and squeezed; this time really hard though, in a grip that was actually quite painful.

  After almost fifteen minutes the guy came over and sat with us. He introduced himself as Aslan Zagriev. He was, like his brother Aslan, a large built man, about the same height, and with huge biceps with a tattoo of what appeared to be a Mongol warrior holding a sword dripping in blood adorning his left arm. He too had short, dark hair that stood up on his head as well as a widow’s peak. He wore a short-sleeve shirt, with only the bar’s name featured in the corner. He looked over our papers, then at us, then back at the papers. Then he began his interview.

  “So girls, you want to work as performers and dancers. I see.” He was silent a moment and then continued, “Did Adlan tell you we require a medical certification of health?” We looked at each other and I answered, “No, he did not say anything about that.” Aslan shook his head, “You can work tonight, but no dirty girls are allowed to work here – I mean to say no girls infected with reproductive diseases.” I answered, “We have no diseases, I can assure you.” He held up his hand as if to say “stop” and said, “That I need to know. There is a free clinic down the road about two miles. Get checked and bring me back the certificate or you won’t be dancing tomorrow night, understand?”

  He then continued, “You two together?” At that Katja said, “Yes, we are.” and he began to ask, “Are you man-hating dykes or…” I interrupted him, “No we have nothing against men…I even have a child with my ex-boyfriend. You could say we are bi.” At that he mumbled something under his breath and then, leaning back, he said aloud, “Good, last girls I hired who were dykes had a real attitude towards my male patrons. I don’t want any trouble – bad for business you understand.” I leaned forward, “You have nothing to worry about. We will be really nice to any and all customers. That is the way to earn tips, right?” Aslan grinned and raised his eyebrow, “Yes, you have the right attitude. So you will come in this evening at 8:30. Try to wear something sexier as these clients are from China and it is a fantasy show for them. If you just be natural, like you must do when you are together, you will be on my show list several times per month. Each time you both get 500 dollars and I put you on part-time as dancers. Tomorrow bring me health certificates and list when you ovulate and have your monthly blood. I schedule you on full time during ovulation since on those days guys tip more and spend more money on girls. It is nature and profit coming together, understand?”

  We agreed to his terms and told him we would be there on time. As we left the building Katja took on a sarcastic voice and said, “Understand, understand…understand? What a moron! His accent is so mountain Chechen…what a rude man!” I motioned for her to be quieter until we were in the car. I asked, “Well, you up for it tonight?” She turned the key, “As ready as I ever will be!” She then left the motor running and asked, “Are you nervous? I am, but not because of the performance anymore…I did not fully tell you how my uncle worded his message.” I looked at her intently as she continued, “He had no idea where I took that picture. He said that these men are not only suspected of being associated with Chechen terrorists – they are also involved in human smuggling. That means they are involved in trafficking. Melanie…they are very, very dangerous. These mafia people don’t just kill you – they make it a statement, if you know what I mean.”

  I replied, “Katja, if these people had anything to do with burning my house down then I want them out of the picture and I don’t care what it takes!” Katja took on a concerned look and said, “Okay…so where are we heading?” I motioned her to take the exit to Oregon City/Culver and that I would direct her from there. As we left Portland we discussed what we would do that evening. It was not really a fun conversation as it took something special, even sacred, and forced us to plan it out like any other spectator sport.

  When we arrived at Bagby Springs I asked, “Can we avoid talking about the evening now?” She took my hand and we found a large tree stump to sit on and eat our lunch. It was a beautiful and warm day. And after we began our walk Katja noted the beauty of the forest, “Can we come back here with my canvas and paints? The streams, moss and trees almost scream out a fairy scene. I want to capture it.” I replied, “Why not take a picture?” She shook her head, “When I paint nature I project the emotions I feel that moment into my creation. I like photography but painting is special to me.”

  While hiking Katja stopped several times to admire flowers, ferns jetting from little cracks in the hillsides and even chased down a little lizard. She seemed to have a child-like love of the outdoors. She commented, “This place is so magic. There is so much life energy here.” She raised her arms and spun around, “When this is over we have to come back here.” As we walked she spoke again of her childhood and then, as I rested a moment on a moss-covered rock underneath a huge old-growth tree, she took out her cell phone and snapped a picture of me. She then, with gleefulness in her voice, said, “I have not painted for a very long time. I will start a picture tomorrow once we get that stupid medical test. It will be my gift to you Melanie.” I laughed, “I thought you didn’t like painting from photographs?” She smiled, “In this case my emotional feelings are ever-present so I can still convey that in my work.”

  Bagby Springs were not like other Oregon hot pools. The water is diverted from the ground into tubs carved from huge trees. When we arrived we took hold of one and relaxed in the warmth of the volcanic waters. Yes, it was quite hot outside, but it was still nice to lay there. As I started to close my eyes I felt Katja gently take my leg and begin a massage. I looked at her and she returned the gaze with what had become a characteristic tilting of the head and sensual smile. When our eyes met it was as if she longed for the moment to never end; strangely enough, I might have been projecting my own desires onto her as well. I was really, and I mean really, beginning to enjoy this woman’s company and that intrigued me for some reason. Maybe it was because I had no real friends. Oh sure I had two devoted lovers, but no friends connected only by care and shared interests. Then it hit me that I could no really longer look upon Katja as a friend in the strict sense since we already had crossed the boundaries into intimacy. Yes, the motivation at first was to get a job done, even manipulate her into agreeing to my game-plan, but I had to admit that I was enjoying her companionship and devotion. It seemed that it took this moment in the waters of a hot spring to realize I had avoided contacting Matt and Nicole for several days, not because I did not have time, but because I either did not want to take time away from Katja, or remind her of my other life. I smiled as it occurred to me that I was actually having a real affair!

  Yes, I had been extremely close to Bethany, but that came, in part, due to our situation after the death of Vincent. I wondered though…had she not killed herself might I be on some ranch living the rest of my life with her? Was I really incapable of saying no to an offer of loyal devotion? Had years of isolation and loneliness forced me into a mind-set where I was willing to love any and all people who were willing to love me? And while I had come to the conclusion that I had strong psychopathic tendencies, after all I felt no empathy or connection to anyone except those who gave themselves over to me 100%, that made me wonder if with me it was “all or nothing” or if I really loved anyone in the normal sense. I tried to put the thoughts out of my mind, however, as I opened my eyes and watched Katja enjoying the opportunity of massaging my feet and legs in the warm water.

  When she asked how I was feeling I looked at her and said “Katja, I am saving this mood for the evening.” The smile disappeared from her face so I quickly explained, “Sorry for bringing it up
but tonight we have to do our best to block out everything around us. When we are on that stage I will not be faking anything.” She nodded her head and smiled as I continued, “We can pretend there is nobody watching.” She then asked, “What if someone films us, and it winds up on the internet? What then?” I too feared that possibility but I answered, “Look, neither of those jerks wants to be stuck without performers. I will merely tell Aslan that we will leave if anyone takes any pictures.” Katja nervously said, “Ok” in an almost silent manner. I repeated, “Remember, we have to block out anything around us okay?” Katja then responded, “I may just get drunk before we are to go on stage…I can think of no other way to forget what is going on.” As much as I opposed alcohol, more so after my experience after Bethany’s death, I nodded and said, “If that helps then please be my guest. Just stay sober enough to keep your head on.”

  On the way back to the car Katja was not so “alive” as she had been earlier, and it seemed as good of time as any to stop her and pronounce, “Katja, I’m actually falling in love with you!” Her entire continence changed. It was as if someone had fired electrical energy into her as she grabbed me and spun me around. She cried out, “I love you too…and there is nothing, no not a thing, I would not do for you!” The interesting part was that I had told her the truth! I really believed that I loved her, and found it easy to block my family out of my mind at that moment. Maybe a part of me truly believed I could just keep on living this fantasy that I was experiencing in the woods with this woman forever, yet also have my family. This was a desire for inclusion – not exclusion.

  On the way back to Portland it was as if the tension we both felt about the evening had evaporated. In my own mind I was actually curious about the whole experience. This was my chance to see how actresses must feel when they have to do sex scenes in a movie. So once my curiosity kicked in, and noticing that Katja was holding my hand and actually smiling as she drove, I felt far more confident that it would not be such a bad experience.

  After eating at a hamburger stand we rushed home, changed into some of the clothes from San Diego and went totally insane with make-up as we prepared to leave. Katja examined my fake tattoos and said, “We should go to that tattoo place next to where we talked to the pimp and have them touch you up a little. It’s okay for this evening though.” Then, as we were about to leave, Katja asked, “Can we pray together? We can pray for protection and success in our quest.” I agreed and she reached out, took my hands, and said something in Russian that, while I could not understand a word, seemed to pierce me in the way a special song might. She ended the prayer and then, just as we walked out my phone rang. I answered…it was Dr. Hodge.

  He asked, “Melanie, I am not sure what is going on but Senator McCracken from the education committee was planning a meeting with your colleagues this week. I know this has been a trying time, but can I ask what you are up to right now?” I asked what he meant and he replied, “Melanie, you have not been in any meetings and I am hearing that you have basically dropped off the face of the planet when it comes to legislative responsibilities. You are on thin ice with the leadership as it is – don’t do anything to screw up your career!” Katja was looking at me in a hurried way and I told him, “Look, my family comes first and whatever else has to be second. I will not allow anything to mess me up in my office, but can you please hold these people off for a couple of weeks? I mean you are a psychologist so just tell them I was traumatized and need a little time off. They’ll listen to you.” He paused and then said, “Okay, good luck with whatever you are doing, and please be careful.”

  I appreciated his concern but sort of chuckled wondering what he would think if he knew what I really was doing. His little star legislator dipping her feet into society’s darkest abyss – and basically risking everything she ever worked for to get revenge. I realized I really was working on circumstantial evidence, and perhaps every connection I had discovered was merely my mind working in a conspiratorial manner – and that this was only an elaborate delusion I had constructed. Then my train of thought was interrupted by Katja calling out, “Come on Melanie let’s go!” I snapped out of my thoughts and responded, “Okay, but remember, the name is Amber, okay?”

  There was an uncomfortable tension in the air as we headed to the club. We arrived at 8:15 and, once parked, we looked at each other. Katja smiled and said, “The moment of truth!” Yes, it was indeed. She opened her purse and took out a small container of vodka, “You want some Amber?” I shook my head. She took a deep breath, “Here goes!” and gulped down half the bottle before coughing some out onto the steering wheel. She laughed, “Just enough to give me courage, but not enough to make me stupid.”

  On the way in I decided to look upon this experience as if I were doing a field study on sexuality. For some reason, when I began to intellectualize I felt a relief. In fact I began to take mental notes of my research study the moment we went through the door. My first observation was a new face; one that looked like Aslan and Adlan, but somewhat different, more course. He was a large, intimidating man who I assumed was a bouncer; in fact he reminded me of those boxers in 1950s cartoons with a small head, protruding jaw and huge, muscular body. He introduced himself as Nazir, and yes he was the third brother, and asked, “You the girls for the special performance?” I responded, “Yes we are.” and he nodded his head and led us behind the bar. I noted that there were two women dancing; one at a table with a group of college-age males, three of which were Caucasians, one Asian and a Hispanic. She was Caucasian, really thin with dark hair. The other dancer was on stage performing to a group of males ranging in age from 20-something to maybe 60-ish. She had bright red hair and not quite as thin as the other woman – but extremely well endowed…perhaps obnoxiously so. Other patrons, approximately twenty, consisting of eighteen males and two females, all Caucasians, sat drinking at their respective tables.

  Nazir then led us into a back room. I expected something creepy like the place where we had obtained fake identifications but instead it was decorated quite differently than the 1950s-ish bar. It was more like a conference room with a stage that looked like a large, honeymoon suite bed. I saw six middle-aged Chinese men sitting at a large booth/elongated table that faced the stage. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Behind the men’s table was a spotlight aimed at the stage.

  Nazir quickly took us aside and commented, “You two girls are really beautiful. Remember I run this establishment and you are here to make my customers happy. They have been promised an hour long show. I will watch to evaluate your skills.” As he finished speaking he took out a video camera and switched it on. I immediately protested, “I told your brother no cameras, and he agreed!” Nazir took on an angry facial expression, but then looked over at his smiling guests and said, “All right, if one of them said no to filming then fine.” He put his camera away and said, “You two – now!” At that Katja quickly requested a drink. Nazir, displaying a frustrated impatience, poured two glasses of vodka, and handed one to each of us. Katja downed the first glass and then looked at mine. I handed it to her without saying a word and she took it down with one gulp as well.

  Nazir then said, “Time to start now!” and we looked at each other. I knew it was now or never so I took her hand, led her to the stage, and embraced her. Suddenly some obnoxious 1980s music came on and I put my mouth to her ear and said, “Remember, they are not here, okay?” and then moved to give her a kiss. In a slow, awkward-at-first rhythm we tried to keep time with the music as we began the show we knew the audience, and most importantly Nazir, wanted to see. Soon, we were reclined on the bed-like stage and losing our clothing little by little.

  It would be impossible to describe the thoughts that were running through my head while up there with Katja. Part of me felt comfortable in her arms yet I could not get the idea out of my mind that we were mere objects of entertainment for these men. When those thoughts crossed my mind I felt little more than if she and I were wrestling in t
he nude. However, a strange feeling, a streak of exhibitionism, began to enter my mind, and then I got a rush in all aspects of my senses… breaking a taboo that not even I had ever imagined I ever would do in a million years. I struggled to keep that frame of mind while up there – even to the point of showing off perhaps; which Katja was certainly appreciating, at least in the physical context. I wondered how she was feeling emotionally though. I was incredibly curious as to what was going on in her mind…would she be sickened by this act and never want to be intimate again? Would she have lowered inhibitions from then on? I so wished I could ask her how she felt, but I supposed that was not part of the act.

  After I felt an hour had passed I managed to whisper to her, “I think we can finish now – just try to make it look good.” She answered me in Russian at first, then English, “Do we really have to stop? Please just a little longer.” It was apparent she was drunk! I was tired, and wanted this to end, so I intensified the pace and finally, after her muscles tightened and she let out a scream, she sighed and collapsed onto the bed displaying a happy look of exhaustion and satisfaction. The surprising part was she appeared oblivious to the presence of others in the room. Her content expression looked genuine; I hoped my acting was coming across half as good as hers.

  Within seconds the Chinese men applauded and Nazir stood up and exclaimed, “Well there you have it Amber and Petra!” We were unsure what was expected of us after that so we both got up to gather our things but Nazir came over and said, “Good job girls, but please, do not get dressed. Come and socialize with our guests.” I was not in any mood to sit with these men. It was just seconds after the applause was over that I developed utter contempt for them – coupled with anger. Yet I would do my best to keep a smiling face, and even a flirtatious mannerism towards them.