by Jon F. Merz
Patrick felt his heart leap when her lips touched him. He pressed back slightly, exploring, and was rewarded with the gentlest of flutterings from her tongue as she sought him out, playfully enjoining in his mouth. Then she pulled away.
“I love the city. It’s intoxicating.”
Patrick managed to resume breathing. “Yeah, it’s great. So different from when I lived upstate.”
“Syracuse?”
Patrick looked at her. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
She laughed. “Just a guess. The only place that has more refugees fleeing to the city is Rochester. It was one or the other.” She skipped away from him and pointed at a building. “That’s mine.”
“You live here?” It was a glamorous apartment house with a doorman and hidden car entrance. It must have cost a fortune to live there.
“No, silly, I own it.”
“Really?”
She tugged at his hand and dragged him up to the doorman. “Evening, William.”
The elderly doorman tipped his hat. “Miss Hansworth, how are you this evening?”
“William, I’ve had the most enjoyable time out with Patrick here. For once, I’ve found a real man. But do me a favor, will you? Tell him who owns this building.”
The doorman looked at Patrick. “Why, Miss Hansworth owns it, sir.”
“Really?”
“Yes, sir. She does, indeed.”
Patrick looked inside at the immaculate lobby. “Wow.”
The doorman stiffened. “Sir, ‘wow’, is reserved for the view from the Empire State Building. Miss Hansworth’s building is more deserving of a rather long and drawn out ‘oooooo,’ don’t you think?”
Beth clucked. “Oh, William, stop that.” She turned to Patrick. “William’s a tad proud when it comes to looking after the place. He’s the best doorman I’ve ever had. He does such a nice job.”
Patrick nodded. “Understandable.”
Beth dragged him through the doors and into the elevator. Patrick glanced at the buttons and saw there were twelve floors. “How many people live here?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have some people look after that for me. I just own the place.”
Patrick frowned. “Forgive me for saying so, Beth, but why are you working at the firm? You could live off of what you make in rents here, couldn’t you?”
“Oh, sure, but it’s no fun,” she shrugged. “Besides, I like meeting people.” She kissed him again. “Like you.”
Patrick shook his head. Was this a dream? “I’m really glad we went out tonight,” he said. “I had a great time.”
The elevator chimed and the doors slid away. Beth turned to him and grinned. “Here we are: thirteenth floor.”
Patrick frowned. “Thirteen? There were only twelve listed on the bank.”
She grinned. “I like a man who’s observant.” She held up a key. “Private floor. All to myself.”
“Wow.” Patrick smiled. “Should I be going?”
She looked at him. “Do you want to?”
“No,” said Patrick. “I don’t want this night to end.”
She kissed him and dragged him to her door. “Neither do I.” It took three seconds to get the door unlocked and then they were in, beyond it, clutching, grabbing, kissing, and falling into that delicious void where time stood still.
***
It was five days before he saw her again. She hadn’t returned any of his emails or phone calls. When he stopped by her office, she was either out or too busy to talk. They passed each other in the hallway, but if Patrick tried to make eye contact, it wasn’t reciprocated.
He began to wonder if she’d reconsidered the time they’d spent together. Certainly, it hadn’t been Patrick’s intention to sleep together the first night, but at the same time, it had been so long that he welcomed the release. Maybe he’d failed her somehow.
It was after ten on another Friday night when he felt her suddenly behind him.
“Patrick,” she said simply.
He turned around and she fell into his arms. “It’s been so difficult repressing my feelings for you around the office,” she cried. “I need you so desperately.” She looked up into his eyes. “Make love to me.”
Patrick looked around. “Here? What if someone sees us?”
She smiled. “Patrick, who stays at the office at ten on a Friday night?”
“Well, I do, sometimes,” said Patrick sheepishly. “Especially since I hadn’t heard from you in so long.”
She kissed him hard on his mouth and pressed her body into his. “Then let me make up for it.”
Patrick sighed and surrendered himself again.
***
“My god, Beth, you’re incredible.”
She smiled at him over coffee in the Village. “I have a strong appetite.”
Patrick glanced down. “I meant the sex.”
“So do I,” she said and giggled. “But it’s so much fun. Honestly, I haven’t had this much fun in a very long time.”
“But you seem so energized by the whole thing. I’m exhausted.” He sighed. “I mean, I’m not bragging, but I used to be able to go for hours. Now...”
She leaned across and put a finger to his lips. “Now, you’re excellent. You have nothing to worry about. I find you incredibly stimulating. You whet my appetite.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “And it’s not like you have to impress me or anything, although you do. I find your oral ministrations remarkable.”
Patrick smiled. “There’s nothing I enjoy more.”
“I can tell.” She looked at him. “You really are tired, though, aren’t you?”
“Devastatingly,” he said.
She nodded. “Why not come home with me and sleep it off? I can offer you a bed.”
“I’m a little short on cash.”
She grinned. “I think we can work out an arrangement.”
Patrick cast his eyes skyward. “Thank god for the barter system.”
***
But the sleep wasn’t enough.
The next week at work, Patrick could barely keep his eyes open. His appearance started to slip and accounts he was working on fell behind. Beth brought him coffee one day.
“You look like hell, love,” she said.
Patrick managed a smile. “Thanks. And who said we were in love?”
“You did last night. You distinctly held me and told me you loved me.”
Patrick frowned. “I must have been talking in my sleep.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve gotta run. We’ll talk later.”
And then she was gone.
Patrick stared after her. What an amazing woman, he thought. Of course he loved her. How could he not? She was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Now if he could just stay awake.
***
“Patrick, wake up!”
His eyes did not want to open. Patrick didn’t blame them. Sleep was so much nicer than being awake.
“Patrick!”
He sighed. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been asleep for almost a whole day. I want to go out.”
Patrick cracked an eye. Beth was frowning. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t know. I’m just so tired. What time is it?”
Beth looked at her watch. “Just past eight o’clock.”
Patrick sat up. “Eight? I’ve got to get to work.”
She laughed. “No, silly...eight in the evening. It’s Saturday.”
Patrick shook his head. What was wrong with him? His whole concept of time seemed to be falling apart. He looked at Beth.
“What happened to me?”
She smiled again. “We had incredible sex last night and then you dozed off. I was finally able to wake you up. Really, I had no idea I exhausted people like this.”
Patrick tried to grin. “I think it’s me. I just can’t seem to get an energy. It’s like every time I have sex with you, I get more and more tired.”
Beth frowned. “Great, you make
me sound like I’m some sort of campy sexual vampire.”
“You aren’t, are you?” asked Patrick.
“Of course not.” She stood. “Come on, hop in the shower and take me out. I’m starving.”
“Okay, okay,” said Patrick. He rolled out of the satin sheets and put his feet on the floor, and padded off to the shower. He soaped up quickly, feeling the hot water steam open his pores and sighed. He bent down and scrubbed up his feet, then frowned as he saw a thin red line drawn above each of his ankles.
“What the hell-?”
He scrubbed and the line disappeared. Patrick frowned and resumed showering. He found a disposable razor and managed to get his face smooth without cutting himself too many times. He toweled off and then got dressed.
Beth was waiting for him when he emerged from the shower. She wore a black miniskirt and a white lace blouse with a black velvet choker. She smiled.
“Like it?”
Patrick smiled. “Yes.”
She turned to the side and drew her skirt up just enough to show him the garter belt she was wearing. She winked. “How about this?”
“Love it,” said Patrick.
“Dinner first,” she said. “Then we can play.”
***
It was midnight when they returned to her apartment. After dinner, she’d taken him dancing and then carted him home to her place. Patrick stumbled off the elevator, tired and slightly drunk from too much champagne.
“What are we celebrating?” he asked.
Beth pinched his butt. “Culmination,” she said.
“Of what?”
She got the door open and then pushed him inside. Patrick wandered into the bedroom and got undressed. Beth came in a moment later with a glass of water.
“Drink this.”
Patrick reached for it and drank it down. It tasted sweet. “What is it?”
She smiled. “It’s water.”
Patrick frowned. “Doesn’t taste like water.”
Beth murmured something and then straddled him. “I see you took your clothes off already. That saves me the trouble.”
Patrick grinned. “But you still have your clothes on.”
“Mmm, I do.” She reached behind her and brought out a pair of handcuffs. “What do you think, lover?”
Patrick obediently put his hands out by the bedposts. “I’m yours.”
Beth giggled. “I know.” She pinned his arms back and cuffed them.
“Never done this before,” said Patrick.
“It gets better,” said Beth. “Much better.” She kissed him long and hard and then slid down his body and then off. She walked over to her bureau and came back, restraddling Patrick.
“What are you doing?”
Beth knelt and began drawing red lines all over Patrick’s body. Patrick frowned.
“Hey, did you make those lines on my feet last night?”
“Uh huh.”
“What for?”
She looked at him and smiled. “Are you feeling sleepy, Patrick?”
“Well, yeah, I’m still pretty winded.”
“Not feeling very strong, right now?”
Patrick tried flexing his arms. “No. Pretty tired.”
“Good.”
“Huh?”
Beth slid off of him again and walked out of the room. A minute later she returned. William, the doorman was with her.
“What do you think?” she asked.
William looked at Patrick’s naked body with a detachment that made Patrick shiver.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I guess we can go with the feet. Definitely the spleen, liver, and kidneys. My friend tells me lungs are in short supply as well, oh, and the testicles, of course. That goes without saying.”
Beth smiled. “Look at how surprised he is.”
Patrick tried to speak, but no words came out of his mouth.
William chuckled. “I think the drug just hit.”
Beth nodded. “He can’t even move now.”
It was true. Patrick couldn’t move at all.
Beth walked over to the bed again and leaned over him. “Sorry to break this to you this way, but I don’t suppose you would have been too eager to help us otherwise.” She smiled. “You asked me why I work at the firm? Why to find prospects of course. Not for me, but for my business. I sell body parts. I need lots of good men, just like yourself Patrick. I take them out, slowly drug them and then finally carve them up.”
“It’s quite a good living,” interrupted William.
Beth nodded. “You asked how I came to own this building...now you know.”
“Pity it’s too late,” said William.
Patrick heard a snap and then another. Like rubber smacking against something solid. He strained to move his eyeballs and could just see William coming over to the bed. He wore a smock and a pair of rubber gloves.
In his hands were scalpels.
Beth turned. “Burn the sheets when you’re done, will you?”
William smirked. “I always do.”
Beth disappeared beyond the door. William leaned over Patrick and grinned. “Don’t worry, you won’t be alive much beyond the spleen removal.”
Patrick glanced down and his eyes widened as much as the paralysis drug allowed. William wasn’t starting with the spleen.
He was starting with the testicles.
Drive-Thru
As I wrote earlier, I went through a period where everything, no matter how simple and mundane, became food for thought. I’d twist the most normal of activities into gruesome encounters. This is the result of one such transformation. This was published in “Bad Dreams.”
Jackie Edwards pulled the front end of the silver Saab 9000 up to the speaker grille and grinned. Such an oxymoron, it seemed, for someone of his stature to be eating at a fast food restaurant. His car, a mint new import, stood out in sharp contrast to the innumerable Buicks and Chevys that dotted the asphalt landscape.
But even he, self-made millionaire that he was, succumbed to the desire for unadulterated grease and lard on occasion. He longed for the mashing together of beef, potato and chocolate milk shake in the depths of his cavernous stomach. Even now, he salivated at the thought of chomping into that burger.
He ran a hand through his hair and brought it away from his scalp to inspect. Two strands. Not bad. Lately, it seemed, he was losing more than usual.
The speaker sang out in the garbled mishmashese typical of drive through speakers everywhere. Jackie depressed the window button and listened to the smooth hum of his windows slide down.
"Double cheese burger, extra ketchup, large fries and a chocolate shake."
Someone chirped back at him and Jackie thought he made out the total as $5.98. Shrugging, he let the window slide back up, and slid the car up some more behind a rusted out Chevy Nova.
"What a piece of junk."
Still, even if he found himself amused by people that still owned them, Jackie could hardly forget that he had once been someone exactly like that. He had driven a Duster, though, but it was all the same rusted pile of steel when you got right down to it.
The line was slow.
Jackie sighed and reached across for his briefcase. Another sales trip like this meant he was basically living on the road. Thank heavens he had such a nice coach as he did. Traveling would have otherwise been unbearable. Unthinkable even.
He'd pulled off of route 84 somewhere before the Tappanzie Bridge. That meant he was still in Connecticut. Right? He frowned and checked the atlas. No sign of exit 36A anywhere on it.
Jackie looked ahead and saw there were still three cars in front of him. What town was this anyway? He frowned again and tried to remember the name of it as e had driven through the lights off of the exit ramp.
Nada.
Finally a car ahead of him moved. Jackie inched his Saab forward, heard the engine race a speck and smiled. The Saab seemed as anxious to get out of this dump as Jackie was becoming. He patted the wheel affectionately.
/>
"A few minutes more, baby, I promise."
Two cars to go. Jackie eased forward, bringing the Saab almost to touch the bumper of the Toyota in front of him. He peered through the neon pierced darkness and looked ahead of him to see the Brown Chevrolet at the window get his food and then put the car into gear and roll of.
"One more to go."
The Toyota slid up to the window and Jackie watched as the attendant leaned out to get the money. There was a pause from the window and the attendant leaned back inside, directing the car up ahead to wait. Jackie pursed his lips. "Strange."
The Saab jumped ahead to the window and Jackie rolled down the window. "Hi."
The attendant looked at him. "Sir? What was your order?"
"Cheeseburger, fries, chocolate shake."
The attendant was a heavy-set man of about thirty. "You from around here, sir?"
Jackie clutched the money he was holding. "No. I'm out of Hartford, why?"
"We're out of some ingredients right now, sir. Would you mind awfully waiting?"
Jackie frowned. "For how long?"
The attendant shrugged. "Shouldn't be long. I expect we'll have something for you shortly."
"Where should I wait?" asked Jackie looking around.
"See that Toyota? Just park right behind her."
"All right." Jackie rolled over to behind the Toyota and sat waiting. The woman driving the Toyota opened her car door and came over to Jackie's.
"Excuse me."
"Yes?"
She looked at him. "You from around here?'
Jackie sighed. "No. Hartford."
The look of horror on the woman's face frightened Jackie. "Oh, no," she wailed. She turned back to head for her car, but two men appeared dressed in restaurant uniforms. They grabbed her and hauled her inside the restaurant.
"Shit," said Jackie. He switched off the ignition and jumped out of the car. He ran inside the restaurant and looked around. There were a few diners scattered about but otherwise it was very serene.