It Had Been Years

by Malflic, Michael

  He remembered how when they were together; he always felt so alive. Donna thought of how he never treated her as a whore or an object, as a passing plaything for his teenage lust. He had always been gentle with an unspoken softness and respect. Suddenly she realized how much and so long ago he treated her very much like the husker had of late been to her. Releasing their embrace the dialogue began “you still look like yourself” she began noticing that his look was still very much his own, a well kept more mature demeanor but still who he was and had been. Until that point she thought she was very much the same way. Old Stories were shared, lives and relationships casually explained away, nothing that was truly out of the norm for old friends. She spoke in generalities about the husker, provided vague details about him and her feelings but not of who he was or what he did, some things never really change Donna thought to herself, “I’m still sleeping with someone and keeping it a dirty little secret from others”. Oddly enough Paul spoke the same way about his family, instead of names he referred to them as his wife, oldest, youngest or son, somewhere in the process noting the oldest and youngest were girls.

  She sensed that he was not mirroring her level of detail or intending some sleight of hand for a more illicit purpose but rather his level of detail was how he always spoke about them to others. “Was he distancing himself from them?” kept running through her head, was he protecting their personal details from others for some perceived paternal reason? Finally she concluded that he did for no purpose other than simplicities sake when telling a story, their position in the family as it was, was nothing more than a reference point for who was doing what in a story. The morning wore onto Midday but the time passed like most people’s youth. It was nearly gone before they realized what a treasure it was.

  The end of the visit grew near. Finally the conversation took a turn to a more serious topic.

  “Why did you find me?” he asked.

  Donna didn’t really know “I heard something that reminded me of you.”

  Paul just shook his head “Fair enough,” he offered.

  “So why did you write me back?”

  He paused and looked away, breaking contact so it was if what he was about to say was a personal admission not meant for another’s ears. “Because when I realized it was you, for a few seconds I remembered and for a few more seconds I actually felt like I was alive again.”

  “So why did you want to see me?” she asked.

  “To feel that way for just a few more fleeting hours”.

  In truth there is nothing quite like the relationships of one’s youth. A puppy even after a lifetime of separation gets excited like a young dog again if it sees the people that cared lovingly for it in the first few years of life. This was no different fond memories from years ago.

  “Are you happy?” Donna asked.

  “I love my wife and family” a truthful response he did in fact love them, he couldn’t imagine a world without them but despite his success he hated his life, his pace and everything that made up his day to day existence. He lived without passion, without excitement and without meaningful intellectual conversation or cultural discourse. Where he lived lacked a pace beyond that of a turtle’s. It lacked stimulation and variety but like so many others he was trapped in a life he had created but just couldn’t quite change to fit who he thought he was or would like to be. He was a big fish in a small pond who missed the danger of a larger predator. Worse he was like Elvis Presley who rose to be the biggest star possible and for his reward he got to do a nightly show in Las Vegas, he too wasn’t creative enough to change his circumstance.

  Finally he answered the question “Not really. Are you?”

  She answered. “Not yet, but it’s getting closer.”

  He just smiled. Something about her being happy made him smile.

  Coffee with the Devil

  “Passage Isaiah 14:12-14:

  12How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!

  13For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north:

  14I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High.

  Passage Ezekiel 28:12-18:

  12Son of man, take up a lamentation upon the king of Tyrus, and say unto him, Thus saith the Lord GOD; Thou sealest up the sum, full of wisdom, and perfect in beauty.

  13Thou hast been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was thy covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold: the workmanship of thy tabrets and of thy pipes was prepared in thee in the day that thou wast created.

  14Thou art the anointed cherub that covereth; and I have set thee so: thou wast upon the holy mountain of God; thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire.

  15Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till iniquity was found in thee.

  16By the multitude of thy merchandise they have filled the midst of thee with violence, and thou hast sinned: therefore I will cast thee as profane out of the mountain of God: and I will destroy thee, O covering cherub, from the midst of the stones of fire.

  17Thine heart was lifted up because of thy beauty, thou hast corrupted thy wisdom by reason of thy brightness: I will cast thee to the ground, I will lay thee before kings, that they may behold thee.

  18Thou hast defiled thy sanctuaries by the multitude of thine iniquities, by the iniquity of thy traffick; therefore will I bring forth a fire from the midst of thee, it shall devour thee, and I will bring thee to ashes upon the earth in the sight of all them that behold thee.”

  As so it was agreed upon as Michal & the Husker left the confines of the conference room. Once things were set in motion there could be no turning back, the element of surprise was essential, the battlefield controlled and the damage limited to one and only one. This is what really made the world of politics go around, conversations that never “really happened” and deals done with the devil under the cover of night.

  Satan’s Little Helper

  Christy went through the meddling and managing the Husker’s calendar and activity’s. He asked her to put them down for a 3:00 on Friday. She was more than thrilled to have some time scheduled with him perhaps things were finally moving back more toward normal, she missed the idle hours discussing the issues of the day with him. Being his trusted confidant and the person who went with him when he needed the company of another at a function, this was to her the best thing in life, being part of Robert’s world. At Promptly three Christy walked into Robert’s office, closing the door behind her, in part because they lived in a world of whispers and in part because she was putting on airs, others would suddenly think the meeting far more important than she expected it to be.

  As she sat down Robert began “There was an opportunity for you that I was approached about.”

  Instinctively she didn’t like how the conversation was beginning, it was not cordial it was not social it went right to a point, a point that she had no knowledge of. “What opportunity?”

  The Husker finally looking up from his desk, “Ok, I think it’s a great opportunity for you. Since you insist I accept your resignation.”

  Handing her a sealed envelope and sliding a letter of resignation across his desk in front of her.

  Angrily she yelled “ I didn’t resign!”

  Robert looking right at her “No, I think you did. It’s better this way.”

  He was calm and collected, she was crushed, pure rage building up inside of her.

  “You fucking bastard. How could you! I hope your little whore is worth it!”

  The Husker stood up “I’ll miss working with you too. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  As the door opened Michal & his henchman, Peter, a large vulgar Irishman were standing ther
e waiting. Robert looked back, “Peter will explain things to you. I’ve got to catch a plane.”

  And just like that it was all over, her services dismissed, her access to power had all but evaporated in a few seconds right before her. Peter and others in the office had already boxed her things and the collected her id cards and deleted her logins and user names from cyber space. She had vanished into thin air, her phone and email already forwarded to her replacement. As they left the office Peter with her boxes in tow he stopped to set them down, picking out the unopened letter the Husker had handed her. Although renowned as a bastard and a prick he was a decent human being, honest under every circumstance an even rarer trait in DC and brutal yes he could be cold and brutal, his words biting and hurtful but you always knew where you stood with Peter.

  “You should read it. No matter how you see it he really did do you a favor.”

  “What the fuck do you know asshole?” She couldn’t believe he was telling her that this was a good thing for her.

  Peter replied calmly only with, “I know what it says and you don’t, read the damn thing.”

  Christy read the letter at first while walking and then at a dead stop rereading it not believing what her eyes were seeing. Robert had secured her a position as a political liaison at a defense contractor, she would have access to senators and representative like never before, the money was four times the pittance she was making in the government. In truth he had made her a well paid baby sitter and she knew it.

  Michal sat in his car as the Husker in a cab made his way toward the insanity that Dulles on a Friday night, Donna was already there checking both of their bags waiting to begin the excursion to his home state. Christy sat in her apartment stunned, she called all of her closest friends, and a few that weren’t so close, no one answered, none were immediately available. Fate however is a funny thing and at 4:30 the phone rang and it was Steve on the other end wondering if she had any plans for the weekend. Christy waited impatiently for him to arrive making one last stab at controlling her personal universe. “Hello?” the voice answered.

  “Good afternoon, it’s Christy.”

  The tone warmed to Christy’s familiar voice “So nice of you to call dear, I thought for certain you’d be out celebrating your new success.” She paused now realizing that Robert’s mother was all too aware of the situation.

  “I will be soon,” she replied putting a good face on things. “But just wanted to thank you for all the help over the years.”

  Mother responded “If you ever need anything just call dear. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get ready for when Robert and his lady friend arrive.” At that very second she realized how much control she a lost, just how bad it had gotten and just how sick her entire life had become. Steve couldn’t get there soon enough.

  Strange things afoot at BWI

  For Vincent it was another long week the pace ever increasing the demands on his time frustrating to point of wanting to cash out in a moment of weakness, buy a boat and just sail. He always wanted to learn to sail the open seas, money would have been no object. There was only infrequent contact between him and Nadrea, they spoke daily even if for only a few seconds, an occasional email but as schedules being what they were most likely wouldn’t see each other until Saturday. So as Nadrea began her ritual of preparing to go out, tonight was an “exchange event” a nice way of saying it was a sex party, she had after all invited Vincent to join her he sat on the floor just outside of security at BWI.

  Night slowly began to cast its shadow over the District, its mysterious spell that allowed for indiscriminate acts intended and committed in the darkness, away from innocent and disapproving eyes. Nadrea intended her look for the evening to be as tawdry as possible, placing long dark curls in her hair, a look whose innocence was betrayed by her knowing eyes and their carnal intentions. Vincent sat like a stranded nomad on the floor, tired and weary but not irritated or worn. His running shoes, long since faded shorts that were tattered on the cuffs and frayed around the pockets, they were far too comfortable and familiar to ever disregard gave him the look of a hapless bumpkin not a svelte ladies man and business renegade .

  People passed by some of them striding with great intent and purpose other shuffling along, some travel weary, the remainder just living life at their own relaxed pace for the moment. Many people moving like nearly expressionless mindless drones, talking to themselves of into or into wireless head set in desperate attempt to stay connected to an ever more wired but more isolated impersonal world. Soon Vincent would join in with the mindless drones, finding his way to his feet but his face was not emotionless it was filled with joy he felt, he couldn’t help but show its simplicity and elegance for all to see.. His emotions for once, like the Grinch on Christmas morning pure and innocent. His arms swallowing her swinging her around like a reunited couple in a 1950’s classic movie, something was subtly different in his touch. Often Vincent would go for months without seeing Deb, barely having a conversation of any substance but this time it had been only a few weeks since they last were together.

  “What’s the news?” He asked impatiently.

  Stalling, “ Well, you know how I have been waiting for a little bit of a break?” Deb played back Vincent just the noticing her slightly more polished slightly less disheveled artist look seeming more like a slightly refined sophisticate.

  Finally giving in, “I’m moving to D.C.” Her coy expression becoming one of unadulterated joy. Those four simple words while the ultimate point failed to explain , but the 90 minute drive in Friday evening traffic, hauling her four oversized “necessities” suitcases allowed her more than enough time to fill in the details for her friend. In the end it could all be summed up that she took a job with the national endowment for the arts, had placed several pieces with a Nuevo Riche type not all that unlike Vincent in his private collection and it led to a gallery show as well to be held in DC.

  Somewhere in the whirlwind of an explanation Vincent offered to let her stay with him. “Perhaps after the weekend.” She replied wanting both her solitude and freedom to roam a place she had been away from for far too long, somewhere in the distance was not wanting to impose on any of his exiting plans. For a few minutes no one else existed for him, his only thoughts were about Deb coming back, nothing deeper and nothing more.

  Entré Soir

  As Vincent graciously unloaded the oversized bags onto the Bellman’s cart much to the small older man’s relief. If nothing else she was eclectic in her choice of luggage, a purple number with bright green trim, literally with wheels on each side, a huge burgundy job she had been using ever since college. As Vincent unloaded it stating to no one in particular “maybe they should look for Hoffa in this thing.” A duffle bag big enough to supply a Navy destroyer and an overstuffed Travel Pro garment bag.

  Nadrea had all but finished preening and was already four drinks into the night, adorned in her 400 dollar pink silk and satin corset from Trashy, another Friday night and another corset, an irony that didn’t dawn on her until much later, a pink bow in back allowing just enough of her butt to show from beneath it when she’d move, topping the outfit off with a pink top hat and satin pink platform high heels. Wrapped in a common beige top coat she made her way down her old stone stairs the large pink bow’s tails peeking out from beneath the back of the coat, across the walk and into the waiting cab. She was back in form, back in her element and looking forward to an exciting evening.

  Steve was reclining comfortable at Christy’s, they never quite made it outside that night, public nudity is still frowned up by many in DC. Donna and the Husker had landed, quickly checking in to their suite on the edge on the old market in Omaha. A rebuilt downtown warehouse district is just a quick walk across the street from where they were staying, they dined at the French Café, Salmon & Salad. The Husker spent the meal imparting his love of Nebraska on her as she just took in all the people attempting to make the most of their small city. It was a rare place where valu
es had not long since been lost and an enduring sense of community existed.

  Deb settled into her room, standing at the window looking out on the relatively flat streets, a sharp contrast to the rising and steeply diving streets of San Francisco, Vincent found his way over to his bar, the crowd was light and after a time he grew bored with the company or lack thereof decided to head out and change before meeting Nadrea for the remainder of the evening, her event already very well under way. Vincent entered wearing jeans and his Doc Martin boots, sporting yet another of his borderline offensive t-shirts featuring a naked woman swinging from a brass pole, its sentiment never crossing his mind when asked what he liked about his shirt he responded “her legs” assuming that it should be obvious to everyone.

  Vincent entered the exchange, greeted by a well dressed hostess type who checked his ID against the guest list and then had him review and sign a series of “privacy” documents before escorting him into the party room. The room already swarming with cocktail waiters whose looks varied from boy band pretty to hard bodied inmate each topless and some nearly pantless as well, mostly proudly displaying their gift from the phallic goddess given to them upon birth. The female staff joined in the fantasy look adorned in costumes ranging from school girl to hooker, police officers to nurses there was something for everyone as they passed through the room with drinks and appetizers. Vincent couldn’t help but laugh as a woman with cartoonishly large breast implants came by in a red sequined gown, her body shape reminded him of Jessica Rabbit. “I’m not bad I’m just drawn that way” he played those words over and over in his head as he watched her curves walk away from him toward other party guest that are seemingly more familiar to her. While his late arrival may have left him out in the cold he circulated through what had to be more than 100 members of each sex, a drink in hand, he had removed his shirt and it tucked in his pocket as he began to blend in with the other revelers. He introduced himself to a blonde that reminded him of a girl he had seen in a prison setting layout from Penthouse years ago. An assortment of stripper looking girls were mingling in their club clothes, one in particular striking up a conversation with him, her long dark red hair, after market upgrades and lavender contacts matching her hot pants.