by Eliza Master
The San Francisco weather was warming, so Renata brought her laptop up to the roof of the skyscraper in the morning. There was a metal chair there and a small table someone had left. The furniture was in front of the roof that covered the stairwell. It was Renata’s refuge, with seating just for one. She remembered the Brazilian saying that the wind blows thoughts away, which was Renata’s intent. Because there were no guardrails, Renata stayed away from the edges. It was a long way down to the street. She hoped the fresh air would help her return to a happier state.
Katrina poured the powder into the coffee mug. Renata was on the roof again, and she had to walk all the way up there to deliver it. None of her clothes fit, and she felt like a moose with this baby inside her. The nausea had gotten worse, and Katrina wondered if she should even be at work. But how could she dose Renata’s coffee from home? But now that Renata wasn’t pregnant, why was Gayle still giving her the powder? Were they going to make her pregnant again?
Katrina poured the coffee into a travel cup from the dish drainer and made her way up the stairs. She wished the elevator went all the way to the roof. Damn; she felt a small wetness. She was bleeding again. But the doctor had said some spotting was okay. Good thing she had that maxi-pad on.
Finally she reached the roof. She saw Renata through the glass in the door. Renata looked like a model seated under the sky. Her hair was blowing slightly, and her body commanded attention. That wasn’t fair. no way had she just had a baby! Her figure was more sumptuous and her skin richer than before. Had she spent the whole time in Brazil on a beach? Probably men were fawning over her the whole time. Katrina rolled her eyes. If Gayle hadn’t told her about the pregnancy, she would have assumed Renata had just returned from a tropical vacation.
“Here you go.” Katrina was winded from the climb.
“Thank you very much.” Renata smiled dismissively. She was working and wanted privacy, but Katrina didn’t leave. “Can I help you with something?”
“Um. I’m gonna have a baby.” Katrina patted her belly. After all, Gayle had never said it was a secret. Anyway, soon she would need time off. Katrina hoped Renata was jealous.
“Wow. That’s great. Congratulations, Katrina.” Renata was surprised and stung. This girl would keep her baby, she thought. She hoped she had made the right decision to give up Ernesto. Her heart lurched, and she wondered if she would ever see her baby again.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” said Katrina smugly, noting the flash of injury on Renata’s face. Now Renata wouldn’t be so conceited, she thought. When Katrina went back down into the office building, Renata stood and faced south. She knew he lived in that direction, but where was he right now?
On each step down to the elevator, Katrina bled more. Her pad was saturated now, and she felt like she had been whacked in the stomach. After forcing herself into the elevator, she pushed the button for Gayle’s floor.
Without knocking, she staggered into her office. “I don’t feel good. I’m bleeding.” Katrina fell into the plush office chair. Blood had soaked out and stained her pants like a red cloud.
“Oh dear, um… Yes, sit there.” Gayle dashed into her bathroom and brought a wad of paper towels. She put them under Katrina to protect her chair. The she called 911. “They’re the way. Can I get you some water or do anything for you?”
“Hand me the trash can.” Gayle did, and Katrina barfed into it. It smelled awful. Gayle hoped the ambulance people would show up soon.
“Now remember, don’t tell anyone about how you got pregnant.” Gayle lifted Katrina’s chin like she was a little girl. “OK?”
“I won’t. I won’t.” Katrina burst into tears. “Ow, it hurts, it hurts.” She sobbed into her hands. The girl was such a mess that Gayle wanted to keep her distance. Finally four medics showed up with a portable stretcher. A woman talked to Katrina quietly while they loaded her on the stretcher.
“Will you be following the ambulance, ma’am?”
“No. I’ll call.” Then Gayle said to Katrina. “It’s going to be all right, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.”
The office was quiet and empty, like nothing had happened. Gayle reread the email from Black Lotus. “Damn it,” she cursed. Renata’s eggs were wasted. She wondered if Katrina could carry a baby to term. Obviously she didn’t take care of herself. She looked like she’d gained fifty pounds already. She would have to consider Katrina an investment that hadn’t panned out.
There were enough eggs for one more surrogate, but who? Perhaps she should give it a try herself; she had always been healthy, even if she was 42. If she could carry to term, she would have ultimate control over the child. She would raise it while marketing its source material. That would be motherhood at its best, thought Gayle.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” called Gayle. She was surprised to see Renata.
“Is Katrina okay?” Apparently the whole office had seen her being carried out. Gayle sighed. What a drama queen!
“She’s having a miscarriage, I think. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.” Gayle pretended surprise, but it was Renata who was genuinely surprised. What a crazy morning! she thought. So Katrina wasn’t going to be a mother after all?
With Katrina at home recovering, Renata had to get her own coffee. It was the first time she’d entered the break room in months. She noticed the worn counters and the old Mr. Coffee machine. The garbage smelled like someone had thrown away a tuna sandwich. Why did she think this coffee was so amazing? She really should run across the street and get a good cup, but that would take too long. Renata filled the coffee maker and sat to wait.
She filled a cup and went up to the rooftop to work. The sky was cloudy, and the fog made her cold. Renata’s whole life felt gray after Katrina’s miscarriage. Why had it affected her mood so deeply? She thought too that someone might be following her, but Kenny was long gone, and no one else knew about the REN. She was being paranoid. Maybe she should see a therapist.
Her tattoo itched more frequently these days; she had resorted to using her hairbrush to scratch it. Maybe Danny was trying to communicate with her. What would Danny do? Renata asked herself. She knew he would never have given up his child. Renata was isolating herself. She hadn’t returned Nima’s texts or been back to the shibari group. Her trunk of ropes had not been opened since she’d had the baby. Maybe that was what was keeping her down.
Renata texted Dmitri: Are you doing shibari on Thurs at the theater?
Yes my dear, please do cum too, Dmitri texted right back.
The spelling was not lost on Renata. What a control freak! She would cum when and if she wanted to. Renata sighed and mentally reprimanded herself; her anger had nothing to do with Dmitri, after all; he was just being playful.
20
Tinder
Three days she’d been lying in bed, and no one cared. Sure, Gayle texted everyday and had sent her some shitty flowers. It wasn’t as if Katrina had lost a real kid, but she still felt like a failure. And her bank account was almost empty. Maybe she shouldn’t have moved into the new apartment or bought the loveseat. But she wouldn’t part with her Vuitton purse, that was for sure.
On to plan B, thought Katrina. She planned to tell Gayle that the miscarriage was a fluke. Gayle had said she was a perfect surrogate, so why not try again? She could say she’d tripped and fallen on her stomach.
“Ugg!” It was hard to get out of bed. She was still bleeding though a lot less, more like a period. Katrina popped two Midols and four ibuprofens. She was hungry as well, so she gobbled an English muffin and a hot pocket. So what if she wasn’t eating for two anymore? The sooner she got back to work, the sooner she could be implanted again. And the sooner she would get paid again. She would convince Gayle by pointing out that she was Renata’s assistant and Renata trusted her. She grabbed some work clothes, but they didn’t fit. So she threw on her cutest maternity dress.
Bong! A Tinder banner ran across Katrina’s screen as she walked into the Agri-
Gen building. It said that Jamie was a mutual match with her. “Oh goodie!” Katrina murmured as she went into the elevator. The doors closed, and she was alone. She scrolled through Jamie’s photos again. He was kind of cute, she thought. Then she messaged: How’s your day going so far?
Jamie messaged her right back: Good so far. You are cute.
Her profile had a real photo of her, but it was at least two years old, and she had been about ten pounds thinner then. At least her tits were a lot bigger now, and she knew how guys liked that. She messaged him her number.
Then she made coffee with powder for herself and Renata. She wondered if Renata would miss the powder when the bag was empty. It only had a few spoonfuls left, and Gayle hadn’t told her more was coming. Katrina certainly would miss it, but she still had a bottle of capsules that she was taking. The extra dose in her coffee was a work bonus. Anyway, she needed the extra boost to convince Gayle.
Katrina messaged Jamie throughout the day. She told him about herself, that she lived in San Francisco and worked for a big company. Renata had her working in a storage room sorting old papers into file boxes and the trash. She forgot all about her cramps and fantasized about getting together with Jamie.
At lunch, she knocked on Gayle’s door. There was no answer. So she texted Are you here? I need to talk to you.
Gayle returned her text: Not at the office today. Hope you are feeling better. Have lunch on my tab downstairs.
The lunch offer was nice, but she couldn’t negotiate by text. She would try to talk to her tomorrow.
Katrina went into the bathroom and closed herself in a stall. She lowered her blouse and bra. Then she pinched her nipple until it stood up. Holding the phone as far back as possible, she snapped photos while licking her lips. Then swoosh, she sent one to Jamie. Right away he asked to come meet Katrina. He would drive the fourteen hours this weekend, no problem. Katrina smiled to herself, thinking she didn’t need Gayle to make a special baby.
21
The Playground
Thursday night Renata was on super charge. The sildenafil-V coffee had done its work, and Renata’s tattoo had stopped itching completely. She drove to the studio with her sunroof open. Tonight she didn’t mind the chill.
The door was unlocked, and Renata arrived at precisely seven o clock. Dmitri was on stage and the lights were bright – not performance style. He was tying a woman onto a swing that was anchored to the ceiling of the theater. Renata saw that his spider web was intact but flipped up, like a sub ceiling. Nima was up top on a support beam dressed completely in black; she held stone-still, like a gargoyle. She was wearing a harness attached to a thick cable. Renata waved to her and she waved back.
Renata stayed quiet, letting Dmitri’s work entrance her. Probably he had been in the theater all day. He was tying rope walls, encasing the woman on the swing, using the swing’s four support ropes as anchors. Her pelvis was tied to the seat, but the rest of her was free inside Dmitri’s rectangular rope cage. She was wearing a bra without cups, and her nipples were lipsticked red. Renata took in the girl’s corset, complete with panties, stockings, and clips. The outfit was almost the same as all the others Dmitri used. She wondered if this was his view of the ideal woman. She hoped he wasn’t that shallow.
Then Dmitri tied the woman’s legs with a length of green silk, mermaid style. They were crossed under the knots and curved like a pretty tail. He attached a long fringe made from colored ribbon on the end in shades of orange and red. The fringe fell to the floor festively.
Dmitri held the swing steady, while whispering something to the tied woman. Then he called up to Nima. “Ready?”
“Ready,” replied Nima. Like a parent, Dmitri stood behind the girl on the swing. He pushed her hard and ran under the swing to continue the motion. The swing moved in a crescent arc, bowing a bit at the top. Nima reached for the swing from the ceiling, but it wasn’t quite high enough. Below, Dmitri stilled the swing and tried again. This time the swinging mermaid went higher, and Nima caught her by the legs. The catch wasn’t graceful but very firm. Nima’s biceps bulged as she held the woman’s vertically.
“Okay. Got her,” Nima shouted down.
Dmitri turned and made eye contact with Renata. Then he nodded to Nima and loudly said, “Clear.” He moved back and called, “Release.”
Nima released the woman, and she sailed fast and high towards the back of the stage. As the swing swung forward, the fringe from her legtail fanned out behind her like a blazing sunset. Again, Renata was enchanted by Dmitri’s shibari. The swing went back and forth a few more times from its own momentum until Dmitri held it at the bottom. He whispered to the woman again, and she nodded her head. Then he reached through the ropes and patted her on the shoulder.
Meanwhile Nima was dropping more support ropes with metal latches. There were enough ropes for four more swings. Dmitri carried over four swing seats and set them under the ropes. He started tying on the first swing seat making sure it was level with the center one.
“Can I help?” Renata offered.
“Sure.”
Renata stepped over to where Dmitri was tying.
“This is the way to tie them.” He showed her the underside of the seat. “And make it strong,” he said in a serious tone.
“Okay, I got it.” Renata tied one swing and then another.
Dmitri checked her knots. “Perfect, thank you.” Then he called out, “Come now.”
Four more of the crew women came out, all dressed in corsets, but each with different fabric patterns. The lingerie reminded Renata of kids’ pajamas. One woman had a two long braids and another had a top ponytail like a fountain.
It was a playground, a sexual playground, she realized. Renata was transfixed. Dmitri’s creation was inventive as well as a turn on. Besides that, it was beautiful and a mechanical achievement.
Each woman’s breasts were exposed as they climbed onto the swings. They used their feet to push off the ground, swinging themselves like playing children. Dmitri pushed the tied woman in the middle gently.
“Stop swinging please,” Dmitri directed. The four women put their feet down and waited patiently.
Dmitri rolled out a dolly that held a spool of white fabric rope the size of a barrel. Behind the each of the swings he unwound and cut four soft mounds that resembled beanbag chairs.
The first woman sat sideways with the seat between her thighs, so Dmitri tied her torso and hips to the support ropes behind her and the seat. Quickly, she was covered in fabric rope diamonds. His knotting defined her breasts and hips. The knots were strong, but the fabric rope made it look as if she were wrapped in white fluff. She bent her knee towards her face and rested one foot on the swing, which he tied down as well. Then she reached her hand up the support rope, but Dmitri gently put it back in her own lap. Renata had the feeling that Dmitri had mostly let her choose her own position.
The second woman sat with her legs akimbo, and he tied her that way. The third girl balled up, facing forward. Renata saw her relax against the rope once Dmitri had her tied. The last woman had worked her way into a prone position and lay on her upper back with both legs in the air. Before he tied her, Dmitri leaned down and spoke to her softly. Renata heard her answer, “I’m good.”
Dmitri put a few knots across her shoulders, then he untied them and rearranged her so that her back was towards the audience in a simple seated position. After all the women were tied, Dmitri attached white fringe to each, like the orange and red fringe on the center woman.
Renata looked at the five girls tied on the five swings. She wondered if she would have the courage to trust her knots, to trust that no one would get hurt from falling or strangling.
Dmitri wound up each girl on her own swing and released them in a twirl, like he had done in the shibari show. Then he unwound more fabric rope and tied each outer girl to the one next to her and to the center woman. They were tied in one long line.
Again he stood behind the center and pushed, but now
there was the drag of the four other weighted swings. Renata could see he was straining. After a few moments he stilled the swings and came to the front. From there he pulled the support ropes and jumped away as he released. This time he got a better swing.
Lovely, thought Renata. The shibari reminded her of castles and princesses. She liked the light swing better than the fierceness of going all the way to the ceiling. Dmitri tried pulling the swing line again for more momentum and they swung higher, but not high enough for the fringe to fan out.
Nima had climbed down without Renata noticing. She helped Dmitri untie the crew ladies.
“I think we need some pulleys and rope for the back of the center swing. I can get them from the circus arts vendor. Would you be comfortable doing the top catch?” Dmitri asked Nima.
“Yes, yes, I would,” replied Nima confidently.
The girls were untied and leaving for the night. Renata approached Dmitri, while Nima finished coiling the white rope onto the spool.
“Welcome back. What did you think of the playground scene?” said Dmitri.
“I love it! It’s fantastic. But a grand swing at the end would be good, for sure.”
“Yeah, I’m working on that.” Dmitri told Renata about his idea for his next performance. “First I’ll do the spider web, and then flip it up to the ceiling. After that will be the swing scene. And I want to close with something else. But I’m still working on an idea for that. Maybe with just one girl.”
“Cool,” said Renata.
“I also want to travel with the show. Bring it to Europe.” Dmitri rubbed his forehead. Acknowledging Renata, he asked, “Have you been tying?”