“Yeah.” Maybe she didn’t have to give her up right away. A pleasant dinner, the two cats, one more round of fun sex. Not too shabby.
“Did you have fun?”
“It was a roller coaster. I got mixed up with these two unsavory types.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.” She held back on bringing Jonathan into the picture.
“I was there to console your Ma and Ta. Filled in for you. What a fiasco. You couldn’t make that up.”
“Thanks, Maria. I appreciate that.”
“Now I’m blushing. See you soon.”
A resurgence of good will possessed her. Maria was a great sport. Why had she gotten so bent out of shape? Her anxiety and worry were going to get the better of her one day. She was going to play it by ear and just let matters fade out naturally as she intensified with Jonathan. She felt much better now.
Sophia was standing at Maria’s door with a bunch of yellow tipped salmon tulips. She was dressed in tight black leather pants and a white plunging vee-neck silk sweater. Her black leather choker, studded with seed pearls clustered in the front, complimented the outfit. Red patent leather ballet flats adorned her feet.
Maria flung the door open, admiring Sophia from her tousled, curly red head to her shiny red toes. “You look like a tasty treat.” She licked her lips.
Sophia laughed, relief flooding over her. “Here are some tulips for the two lips.”
“Thanks, hon. They’re beautiful. Don’t just stand there. It’s not a first date. Come into the old abode.” She pecked Sophia on the cheek. “You smell delectable.”
“Un Jardin Sur Le Nil.”
“Come again?”
“My perfume. Hermes.”
“Come and greet the girls.” The regal Siamese cats approached gingerly, as if walking on hot coals.
“Which one is Titi? I don’t think I can tell.”
“Try.”
Sophia knelt down and examined the two. “Oh. The minute green half-moon in Titi’s left blue eye. How could I forget?” She picked Titi up. That didn’t sit well with Titi and she released her.
“Lots of distractions on vacation?” Maria was wearing jeans and a black sweater with striking red mini boots covered with black raised roses.
Sophia pointed at the boots? “Same shoemaker? The hands?”
“Sure thing. The Rabbit Hole.”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Your favorite Italian. Eggplant parm. Amarone to drink.”
“You thought of everything.”
“Sit. I’ll get you a glass of that good stuff.”
“Yum. Love Amarone.” She called after Maria’s back, receding towards the kitchen.
“I know,” she threw over her shoulder, before disappearing into the kitchen.
Sophia accepted the glass of deep purple red, savoring the elements of almond and raisin when she stuck her nose into the bowl of the glass.
Maria sat opposite her on the cluttered, shabby couch, nursing a large whiskey. “How was the trip? Enjoy yourself?”
“On the whole. There was a mishap, but I don’t want to go into it now. Let’s enjoy ourselves. What have you been up to?” She took a long swallow.
“Did it involve a man?” Maria stared at Sophia.
“Maria, not now. All in good time.”
“I’ll check on the food. It should be warmed up nicely.”
Sophia settled back into the arms of the battered leather chair, anticipating the food and enjoying the wine. She disapproved of the jumble, scanning the hodgepodge of varied items covering every surface. She stopped scanning when she noticed a makeshift voodoo doll, propped up carelessly next to a black candle. It wasn’t anything like the one under her bed back in Barbados, but it was enough to set off the images. A vicious Noah on top of her, a bare-breasted Natasha giving orders, and threats, violence, and humiliation enveloping her. The glass slipped out of her hand, shattering on the wooden floorboards. The delicate crystal shards scattered and the red wine stained the wood.
“What happened, hon?” Maria was carrying in a loaded tray. She quickly placed it on the piano, shoving aside some of the items crowding the space. She hurried over to Sophia.
“I happened upon Santeria in Barbados and it turned ugly. That voodoo doll gave me a scare. It reminded me of the one under my bed in the hotel.”
“This old thing?” Maria picked up the crude doll with stick legs and arms, a felt covered head with two button eyes, and a black mop of unconvincing hair. “I’ve had it forever. Remember, I’m from Cuba. Santeria’s big there. I’ve had this since I was a kid. I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen apart. She picked it up by the hair and shook it in Sophia’s face. “Boo”.
Sophia recoiled.
“You scare easily.”
“It’s not that. I’m experiencing a flashback to the horrible experience on the island.”
“Flashback. Smashback. What are you going on about? You won’t tell me anything and now you’re freaking out over a little old crummy doll. Come here and give me a hug. Watch the glass.”
Sophia, not knowing what else to do or say, stood up obediently. She carefully avoided the mess at her feet. The pungent sizzle of garlic saturated her atmosphere. “They loaded on the garlic,” she said before she slowly descended to the floor and lay like a ragdoll at Maria’s feet.
She awoke on a chaise lounge, elevating her head and knees. For a few seconds she thought she was back at Sandy Lane. Although groggy and disoriented, she quickly remembered she was at Maria’s. They’d been having dinner. The voodoo doll. She was in a different room, a room she’d never seen. She heard the music first. Leonard Cohen’s sepulchral tones were intoning Alexandra Leaving. The pervasive melancholy seeped into her bones, flowed through her veins, and suffused every ounce of her being. Plump, burning tears coursed down Sophia’s cheeks at the inconsolable despair relentlessly raining down on her soul.
“Maria?” She began to look around, shaking off the torpor, realizing she was in the locked room. She’d been curious about this room. She squinted in the gloom, flickering candles on some nearby table affording the only light. Given her nearly prone position, she looked up. Terror jackhammered her heart. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears and felt the painful pressure of its rapid beating. Above her, high up on the ceiling, hung an enormous banner of her image, wrapped in the red terry robe, eyes droopy, hair disheveled. When she looked around, enormous posters and banners of Gloria and of herself assaulted her. They were all over the room. On the walls, on stands on the floor, and covering the windows. She cringed. Her gaze returned to the banner on the ceiling. Maria must have been photographing her all the time. Leonard Cohen was relentless. Boundless despondency kept pouring into the room.
When she spotted the black roses on the table with the candles, full-out panic struck. There must be fifty roses. Sophia started to get up and fell back. She realized she didn’t have the strength to move much. She tried again to get up. She fell back again. Now Roy Orbison and kd lang were crooning Crying.
“Enjoying the music, hon?” Maria asked as she swung the door open. “How do you like my inner sanctum? Cool, huh? I bet you tried that door many a time.”
“Maria, what’s going on? I can barely move. That thing on the ceiling shocked the shit out of me.”
“Don’t like it? I spend many a lonely night lying back on the trusty chaise contemplating your beauty. I love you in that robe.”
“Why can’t I move?”
“I gave you a little something. Don’t worry, it’s harmless. I didn’t want to tie my beauty up and leave marks on her milky white skin. This was your last supper, hon. Sorry about the supper. I wanted it to be classier, but it just didn’t work out that way.”
“Maria, you’re scaring me.”
“I told you, hon. You’re easily scared. Nothing to be frightened of. I’ll make it painless.” Maria loomed over her, the light from the open door shining behind her, the flickering candles dancing light on her face a
nd hollowing her eyes. She horrified Sophia. “You didn’t see it coming, did you? I didn’t myself until I saw you humping that Limey pretty boy. I climbed up that ladder to your bedroom window and there you were. You lied so adroitly, but my gut told me different and my gut was right.”
“Maria, you’re being crazy. It was just a fling. I’m with you. We…we have so much in common.”
“I bet the two of you were flinging all over Barbados.”
“I was alone. I swear it.”
“Don’t waste my time. I have to have you all to myself. Don’t you see? I couldn’t keep Gloria. Now, I’m in control. I’ll keep you forever. You’ll always be beautiful, you’ll always be true, and you’ll always be mine alone.”
“What are you going to do? Stuff me?”
“Something like that.” There was a lopsided gleam in Maria’s Cuban coffee colored eyes. She grabbed something from the floor. “Come here, you little rascal.” She held Remy by his tiny white tail, watching him wriggle. “I’ve grown fond of the little fellow. I guess I’ll keep him after all. I know. Maybe I’ll let Titi and Gloria sort him out. Either Gloria will feel like Titi does about Remy and love him. Or, she’ll act like a real cat and eat him.” She laughed demonically while staring at Sophia, helpless and resigned.
“Sex finally led me to death. To my own demise.”
“What are you babbling about, Sophia? Overthinking, again? You weren’t overthinking when you jumped into the sack with Mr. Limey. By the way, weren’t you robbing the cradle?”
“I told you. It was nothing. You and I have the best sex, the best times. It’s you.”
“Don’t give me that shit. You want a standing cock. A nice fat shlong, as Ma would say. The real thing. Not Balthazar or my puny tongue.”
Images of Ma and Ta flooded Sophia’s consciousness. Her death might kill them. Or, disappearance. She may be rotting away in this room for Maria’s warped pleasure. Undiscovered. “Think of Ma and Ta. You love them.”
“I do love them. But I have to have you and the only way to have your slutty ass all to myself is to mummify it. Now shut up.” She slapped her. Hard.
“What the…?” Sophia rubbed her cheek. The paralyzing potion was wearing off.
“See what you made me do? Be quiet.”
Patti Smith’s hip voice was making the song, Gloria zing. Sophia realized Crying was over.
“I’m getting the two cats. We all need to be together.”
Sophia rolled onto the floor as soon as Maria left. She crawled over to the rose laden table to get a heavy silver candlestick. She pulled herself up and sighed with success when she was able to grasp the object without getting much hot wax on herself, blow out the burning candle, and crawl back to the chaise.
“What the fuck? Look at yourself with your ass in the air and on your knees. Give me that fucking thing. What were you going to do? Brain me?” Maria easily took Sophia’s weapon as the two cats flowed into the room. Titi bounded over to Remy and began tussling with him. Gloria rushed over, eyed the scene, hesitated, and then joined in the fun.
“Gloria’s accepting him too,” Sophia said, in spite of herself.
“See Sophia? Why’d you have to go and ruin our little bit of paradise? We all could have lived happily ever after. Even Remy.”
Sophia struggled for further words of appeasement. “Just shut it. Nothing will change my mind, Sophia.”
Maria jumped when the doorbell rang. “Who the fuck could that be? It’s after ten. Did you tell anyone you were coming?”
Sophia shook her head.
Someone was hammering on the door. Maria was rooted to the spot. The loud splintering signaled that the door was down. Maria jumped into action. She grabbed the candlestick from the floor where she’d dropped it and hid behind the open door in the room.
Jack appeared, wild-eyed, cautious, his gun drawn, both hands wrapped around it. He spied Sophia, who tried desperately to silently signal him about the stashed Maria. Maria lunged from around the door, knocked his gun out of his hands with the candlestick. Jack watched it skitter across the floor.
“Join the party, big boy.” Maria leered. She closed the door and retrieved his gun. “I’m handy with a gun, lover boy. Ex-CIA.”
“I’m impressed,” Jack said, rubbing his injured hand.
“You should be. Now, go sit over there with your girlfriend. She has motherfuckers coming out of the woodwork,” Maria said.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s Jack. We’re dear friends,” Sophia said.
“Don’t give me any more cockamamie stories. You love these young dicks. Just like your clientele. More bang for the buck when they’re in their prime.”
“Maria, you’ve got it all wrong.”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Maria raised her hand as if to hit her again.
Jack fumed.
“Don’t even think about it, Jackie boy.” Maria brandished his gun. “The two of you are making me nervous. So, I’m going to tie you up Jackie boy or cuff you to the chair, whatever I find first, and you can watch Sophia’s last fuck. She had her last supper. Now, it’s time for her last lay. And why not have you watch? You can see how it’s done right.” She guffawed. “I know I have cuffs back here. I’m watching you. Both of you.” She waved the gun for emphasis. “Don’t even twitch. Either of you.” Maria had her back to the door as she was scanning the room for likely spots for cuffs or twine. “I see the cuffs under that window with you on it, beautiful.” A huge poster of Sophia in a sexy red dress and red heels obscured the window. “Go get them for me.”
Sophia, still somewhat affected by the drug, was slow to fetch the cuffs. Her mind was racing. As long as she was not cuffed or bound, she might have a chance to knock Maria out.
“Stop shuffling along and get yourself over here,” Maria said. “There’s another pair in that drawer.” She nodded towards the table.
Sophia’s heart sank.
“Well move it. Don’t just stand there like an idiot.”
When she had the cuffs, Maria easily pushed Jack onto a chair near the chaise. She cuffed his hands behind him to the wooden slats spaced out in the back of the old chair. She pushed Sophia onto the chaise after cuffing her hands behind her back. “Fuck. I’m going to have to get lover boy more secured if he’s going to watch our show. Can’t have him bouncing around with the chair when I’m in the throes of passion.”
Sophia began to stutter something.
“Shush. I don’t want to slap you again. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Maria laughed uproariously at her joke. “Let me think.” She stared at Jack, helpless, uncomfortably cuffed, shoulders straining, seated at the foot of the chaise, facing a vanquished Sophia.
Sophia thought of screaming, but knew Maria would cold cock her immediately. She had great reflexes.
“I have it. The perfect plan.” Maria was elated. “I have to stop myself from jumping with joy. You two will think I’m a genius.”
Two sets of disheartened eyes stared at her balefully.
“I’m gonna cut his dick off. Hah.”
Sophia gasped.
Jack wriggled. His hands wanted to reach for his penis reflexively.
Maria pointed Jack’s gun at Sophia and then at Jack. “Don’t even think of it, Jackie boy. Not that you can do anything. But if you could. One, two, three, and she’s gone.”
Sophia started sobbing.
Maria slapped her. Harder than before. “Aw. Little Sophia can’t rub her booboo.” Maria, despite her bulk, moved lithely to a closet hidden behind a large poster of a nude Sophia, in an alluring pose, cupping her breasts, saucily poking her behind out, and grinning lasciviously. The gun remained trained on both captives. She grabbed some thick, silky looking ropes, quickly uncuffed Sophia, and commanded her to bind Jack’s feet together, before cuffing her again and pushing her onto the chaise. She returned to Jack. She stuffed a bandanna into his mouth. She checked his feet to ensure they were securely bound. “The patient may experience some pain
because there won’t be any anesthesia,” she chortled.
Sophia gasped.
“Shut the fuck up. Do you want a gag too? This is turning into hard work.” She hoisted Sophia up by the hair and flung her onto the other wooden chair by the desk, tying her up securely. “Face lover boy. You’ve got to watch the fun. I’m such a great improviser. Cutting his boy off beats sexing you any day.”
Jack and Sophia’s eyes met, doom and gloom transforming the green into gray.
“I’m gonna run out kids and get the scalpel.” She rubbed her hands gleefully. “Johnny’s back,” she grinned and leered upon her rapid return, trying to mimic the mad Jack Nicholson in The Shining. She held up an electric fillet knife, triumph written all over her face. “From my fishing days. This should do the trick quickly. Maybe too quickly, lover boy.” She patted his cheek. “Let’s get to that outlet.” She plugged it in and the ensuing buzzing amplified the terror tenfold. The cheerful red handle, looking like innocent fun, was jarring.
Jack was sweating heavily when Maria approached with the live knife, knelt down, and slowly unzipped him. His head was whipping side to side, his eyes bulging, and involuntary groans hardly made it through the gag.
“Are you paying close attention, hon?” Maria turned her head. “Okay, castration or the dick off? You decide hon. You know castration is just the balls off? Come on,” Maria screamed, “which one? Or both?” She howled with mad laughter.
Sophia was silent, nauseated, unhinged by the barbarity, and undone by Jack’s distress. She screwed her eyes shut tight. A bang. Or was it a thud? She was all screwed up. Her senses messed up. A glob of goo hit her forehead. Jack’s dick? A ball? She expected spurting blood. Catastrophe. The end of the world. She pried her eyes open. No. Jack was intact. As far as she could tell. Maria lay at his feet, a considerable chunk of her brains blown out the back of her head, some of it dripping down Sophia’s forehead, the fillet knife gyrating next to her in lazy, aimless circles. Jonathan stood in the doorway. Sophia could swear his gun was smoking in the backlight before she realized it was safe to faint.
“The door was down,” Jonathan said. Only Jack heard him.
Time's Harlot: The Perils of Attraction, Seduction, and Desire Page 26