Descent Into Darkness

by Michael Cross

  The black man then asked, “Hey there girl, you look really fine but I have some business to talk about with my friend, so if you don’t mind.” I shrugged my shoulders, jumped up and the white guy commented, “Just have to tell you, you have really nice looking tits. I really mean that as a sincere compliment. God really blessed you.” Normally I would have been furious with such a comment, but for some reason I detected a sincerity in his voice. I wiggled my chest a little for him and waved goodbye. I figured, as I was walking away, that if someone was willing to pay me one hundred fifty dollars just to sit with them a few minutes it was a good deal – and I did not even have to give them any psychological advice in the process. The rest of the evening was totally uneventful except that Adlan asked if we could work Sunday evening. Katja warned, “I think so but I may be suffering from PMS that day.” He nodded his head, “You can both have Monday off, but Amber you will be here Tuesday.”

  When we arrived home we compared our tips and I totally beat her due to the huge gift from the old gentleman. Katja was tired and we merely cuddled on the couch and watched some old western movie to relax. It was odd to see how gender roles were presented in the 1950s; especially when a scene at the end had the outlaw and the lead man in a fight to the death and the lead’s wife just looked on screaming and crying. I wondered…why could they not have had her splitting the outlaw’s head open with a frying pan instead of acting as a hysterical freak? Yet it was a different era I suppose. After the movie we sat in bed and discussed what our next strategy should be since we could not foresee spending months in our quest for answers. I sighed, “Maybe you were right about getting closer to the brothers. One of them has to slip up so we can expose them.” She shook her head, “Such disgusting men, more so than most, but if it is what it takes.”

  The next day Katja was a bit withdrawn but as we ate breakfast she explained that she tended to be tired when she had PMS. She asked, “Will you be able to tolerate me?” I nodded my head, “I think I can adapt.” I only wondered if a couple other people I knew would be okay with it. I giggled slightly at the thought and Katja asked what was so funny. I just replied with a “Never mind.” and asked, “Want to check out tattoos?” She laughed, “You really want me to get one, don’t you?” I shrugged my shoulders, “Not today. We have to work but maybe when this is all over?” She took my hand, “I promise.” I then suggested, “Why don’t we drive down to Salem and check out some of the places there? It will be like window shopping.” We finished eating and threw on some clothes before heading out.

  We were delighted to find a parlor just off the second Salem exit. When we went in the woman there, the perfect chararacture of a Goth girl complete with black lipstick, short black and neon purple-dyed hair, and covered with tattoos and piercings, greeted us. I asked, “Can we look at some of your work?” She replied, “Sure. And in case you are interested I have a half-price special on piercings.” After we looked around I said we might come back in the future. Katja, on the other hand, seemed really intrigued with the piercing idea and re-approached the woman, “What kind of piercings do you do?” Unlike me she had no navel piercing. The girl showed her various pictures in a catalogue. She commented, “The most common work I do is navel but nipples are getting really popular now.” What surprised me was that Katja began to look at nipple piercings and asked, “Do they hurt to get?” The girl assured her, “No worse than piercing one’s ear. And all you have to do is take them out if you nurse a child. After that you can have them re-inserted later.” Katja laughed and said, “Oh that would never be a problem.” She pointed to her breasts, “These won’t ever get used for that. My girlfriend is the baby maker.” The woman smiled, “Cool! My girlfriend and I have decided we both will have a child but to each their own. You two are a cute couple you know.” Katja put her arm around my waist, “We are, aren’t we?”

  As we left the parlor Katja asked, “How long does your piercing special last?” and the girl rushed over to her and gave Katja a business card and said, “For either of you it will be available until Christmas. And let’s just say I’ll offer you a rainbow special on any tattoo work of thirty percent off.” As we drove away Katja carefully put the card in her purse and asked, “What’s a rainbow special?” I laughed, “It’s a gay unity thing.” She replied, “Oh. Hey, would you like it if I got some piercings?” The funny thing was I found the idea fun and I said I would very much like it. It was strange I thought as we headed back to Portland. I seemed to like the idea of having myself in two worlds – no, not just two. Maybe a part of me desired variety and would never be happy in a conventional lifestyle. Of course, it was apparent I was making my life more and more unconventional every day.

  When we arrived home Katja asked if I would mind if she took a short nap before dinner. I said I was fine with it and said I needed to talk with my family. She noted that it was already almost 4pm and that it was probably mid-night in England. She was right but I said I might log on and see if anyone was using the computer. She promised to not disturb me and a few minutes after she went into the bedroom I peaked in and saw she had the fan on full blast and was totally passed out. Now was my opportunity.

  Sure enough Nicole was on. I wrapped my head in a towel again and called her up. When she answered she seemed very alert for it being so late – and quite beautiful. We of course talked a bit about the children and she even warned that after almost a month of British TV they seemed to be picking up some British accent. She then asked if I was prepared for a couple of shocks. I was not sure but I braced myself for whatever she had to tell me.

  Nicole said, “Okay, your father is not a dumb man. In fact, he is practically a genius so it should come as no surprise that just after we got back from London he came out and asked if we had a shared marriage.” I was indeed shocked and asked, “What? What did you do to give him that impression? What did you tell him?” Nicole immediately replied, “Sorry Melanie, but Matt and I have not been intimate this whole trip. We sleep in separate rooms and I have acted no more romantically with him as when we were just friends. You have to believe me.” I just replied, “Okay, so how?” She continued, “I think it is the children. Alex called me his second mommy twice when talking to your dad. Maybe that was it.”

  I then asked, “So you two told him? You told him we were all married…completely?” She answered, “At first we made it sound as if it were a standard polygamist relationship but all he did was laugh. When Matt asked what was so funny he said he was too smart to buy it. He was the one who said he would be surprised if this was not a communal marriage between me and you as well.” I could not believe it. Here was a man who merely shared my genes and now he knew my most intimate secret – at least the one regarding my personal life! I felt furious, but at the same time helpless. There had been nothing I could have done to change events; which made it all the worse I suppose

  Nicole then laid another bombshell on me. She continued, “I know this must really be uncomfortable right now but do you want to know what else he claimed when he figured out our marriage arrangement?” I shot back in jest, “What, that he is a homosexual?” Nicole did not counter it at first and I asked a little bit less joking, “Is he gay?” Nicole hesitated a moment and said, “No, he isn’t the one, at least he did not admit to it.” I could detect what was coming next so I shot back defensively, “Oh no way…not in a million years am I going to believe my mother was gay.” Nicole took on a very serious look and said, “No, not entirely.”

  I finally just demanded, “Tell me what the bastard said, everything!” Nicole looked away and took a deep breath and began a lengthy explanation, “Okay, he told us that he had sort of been a high school geek who wanted to date, but never had the chance. He had been active in debate and the high school Republicans and even went out for cross country. Sound familiar?” I just motioned for her to continue, “In his first year of college he would engage people from activist groups in debates. One day a girl with some environmentalist cause was handi
ng out literature and he started up an argument. I guess this girl, your mother, for some reason took a liking to him and they wound up exchanging numbers. Your dad claimed she was really a free-spirit, like you said your Aunt Debra is, and had dated many men and women, but liked your father’s personality – maybe even his being different. And later they married.”

  I asked, “So my mom was some free-love herbal girl?” Nicole continued, “Apparently so. However, there was one thing your parents had agreed on and that was that they wanted no kids. Your father had been an only child and did not feel comfortable with raising children, and your mother was convinced that it was bad for the environment to have children. Yet when she discovered she was pregnant after a trip to the California Redwoods she refused your dad’s urging to abort you.”

  At this point I felt overwhelmed by this information – my mother had never given all the particulars but it did not seem Nicole was finished. I urged her to go on and what came next was the real shocker, “Melanie, apparently the marriage was on shaky grounds and your father suggested that maybe they should get involved with a swinger’s group. I guess right after you were born they would get your grandparents to watch you while they spent weekends at their special gatherings. Your dad said he thought maybe if she could live out her fantasies they would become closer but all they wound up doing was fighting whenever they were not at their activities. Your father finally just quit the marriage and left; and he admitted he wanted nothing to do with you until recently when his health began to fail.”

  I immediately asked what was wrong with him. I worried about some genetic disease I might have inherited. She shook her head, “No my love, it seems he acquired a type of syphilis that is resistant to all antibiotics. He gets treatments to slow its attack on his body but he is not optimistic about how long he has left. He might live for thirty years or he might die in a year, his doctors have no idea. I’m sorry to have to tell you this Melanie.”

  I hesitated a moment and told Nicole, “I have to have time to take all of this in.” I for some reason was not troubled by my father’s medical condition. I figured he brought that on himself. However the revelations concerning my origins were different. Of course some would ask why I would believe this story but for some reason it all made sense – all the gaps in the rather cloudy picture of my early life seemed to fit like some puzzle. Then Nicole pleaded with me to just come over to England and be with her and Matt but I resisted the offer. I really wanted them but I still had a job to do. Yet I began to cry a little, feeling helpless, separated from those I cared for and the revelations concerning origins. Nicole in her reassuring manner said, “Hey! You are not your parents! You are Melanie Lindberg, the girl I fell in love with long ago and the woman Matt fell in love with a little later. We could not care less what your background is!” Then, for a moment I thought aloud, “Maybe I do not deserve you two.” Nicole immediately demanded, “Stop it!” I asked, “Why, I seem to be a product of both my mother and father – I am my mother in her unconventional sexuality and my father in arrogance and pride. Not a good combination.” She then softly said, “You have your father’s brains and skills, but not his selfishness, and your mother’s free-spirit without her neuroticism.” I looked at Nicole, amazed at her quick come-back and psychological insight and asked, “Remember once you asked me to promise that I would never die? I want that promise from you right now!” She smiled and looked at me with an innocence that really did touch me. In a sweet, re-assuring voice she said, “I promise to be there for you…even at that last moment before you go back to our Heavenly Father.”

  I was rather surprised at her use of such a “Mormon-ish” term but I did not let on. What she had said was poetry to a wounded soul and I appreciated it. I said, “Nicole, you are going to have a wonderful vacation when I get back. I hope you know that.” She nodded and said, “Speaking for Matt, he loves you very much. I also love you with all my heart and soul.” I assured her, “The feelings are mutual. Please convey my love to Matt and the children.”

  After the call I sat there stunned. I was not sure what to think but I did not really want to consider it. However I could not help but wonder at the now shattered image of my mother. Maybe her celibacy all those years was nothing more than an attempt to repress the feelings after her period of hedonism. At that moment I thought of when Vincent had asked me to take a vow of no physical passion and how I thought it sounded wonderful initially. Maybe I really was nothing more than a fusion of two messed-up individuals.

  While in this train of thought I walked into the bedroom. Katja was still asleep but it was nearly 5:30. We had two hours before work but I did not care. I crawled in next to her and, even though she was barely starting to wake up, I attacked her with a passion that allowed me to put my thoughts on hold for a while. She did not seem to mind even though at that moment my lovemaking was more an act of escape, and she was more a drug, a perfect drug, to enable me to just forget for a few minutes what had been laid on top of me.

  Yet after we finished I jumped up and said, “Hey, we have to get ready and get out of here!” She rested her head and said, “Can’t we call in sick?” I laughed and said, “No, tonight I really need this to get my mind off things.”

  Once at work I actually did take on a new persona – maybe this is why people who get abused often wind up in these jobs. As I went out on stage I went from maybe being the least likely girl to push it to the limit, and instead acted like some sort of harlot. I even tried my skills on the stripper pole, and while I might not have been as graceful as the others I certainly made up for it with exhibitionism. That evening I teased my male audience to the point that I lost count of my tips; I felt more power than the previous night. I was in a strange way getting revenge on the world by simultaneously lowering myself below the level of all the other girls, yet taking pride in my superiority over these desperate fools. That night of losing myself was the best therapy I could ever have engaged in.

  Just as Katja and I were getting dressed to go home Nazir, who had barely had any interaction with me, came in and asked, “Amber can you come and sit down with me a moment?” Katja and I looked at each other briefly before Katja motioned for me to go out. When I met him at his table he pulled out a chair and graciously asked me to have a seat. The conversation that would follow surprised me to say the least.

  He began, “Amber, I am impressed with your performance this evening. You are really doing good business.” I smiled and played with the napkin in front of me. Nazir asked, “Can I get you a drink? Oh wait, my brother said you don’t drink. I respect that.” He then went over and poured me a soft drink. He returned and asked, “There is something about you. You are not like these Russian cows. They are just whores but you have a dignity that I like.” I thanked him, not really knowing how else to respond. He then said, “I can give you all the hours you want! Also, if you need any money just ask…I make loans at very good rates.” He then lifted his glass and toasted, “To you Amber!” I thanked him, expecting him to say more, but he just sat there looking at me. After a moment that felt like an eternity he dismissed me by pointing to the dressing room, “Better go meet your girlfriend…it is late and I have business.” Heading back to meet with Katja I was wondering what had just transpired. Then, as we were walking out the door Nazir called out in an uncharacteristically pleasant voice, “Have a nice trip home. See you on Tuesday!”

  Katja commented as we walked to the car, “He was nice to you. What did he say to you in the bar?” I shrugged my shoulders, “He just said that I was doing a great job.” I certainly was not going to tell her what his opinion of Russians was – not then at least.

  When we returned home Katja said she was tired and she went to bed early. As I sat in the living room and had some time to myself all the revelations from the talk with Nicole came flooding back into my mind. I do not know why it troubled me that my “saintly” mother had been anything but the persona that I had grown up believing was her. I had vilified my f
ather for good reason, but now I knew that my mother had been no different than the hippies I often encountered in hot springs. Yet at the same time I realized that maybe my fascination with them was part of an attraction that ran through my genetic code. I also wondered why it was, hearing of my father’s ailment, that I felt no real emotion, yet at the same time I felt an emptiness that when he did die it would leave a void of sorts in my mind.

  The next morning Katja woke me up as she went into the bathroom. When she came out I asked, “Hello dearest, would you like to go to the hot springs with me today?” She got back under the covers and sighed, “I would love to but I can’t…I just started something.” I said I understood and suggested we could just go for a hike. She caressed my arm and asked, “Maybe you can go if you like. I just feel exhausted – it has been a busy few weeks you know.” I kind of gave her a dejected, “Okay, that’s fine.” She apologized for any misunderstanding and asked, “Melanie, can I ask you a favor? Can you not go into the little spare room for a while? I have a project I am working on that I would like to surprise you with.”