Falling Whispers, Love & Curses

by Trixie Archer

  It wasn’t long before I discovered how impossible my request was. My only option would be a small room at the bed and breakfast in the village designed for those visiting the workers of the resort. Unfortunately, the village had no affiliation to the resort so it would mean additional funds. The accommodations were described as minimal and primitive...plus even though it was second rate, it would be quite costly. I could not afford any extras since my trip was part of my divorce settlement, so that idea seemed out of the question.

  It became apparent; I was wasting my time and energy. I suddenly realized that my episode was but mere foolishness. Dora was not a vampire. She could not with one bite change the inner workings of what I was about. I was being ridiculous and yet, I still felt the need to avoid her.

  Maintaining my composure, I asked if it was possible to board the ship earlier than my scheduled departure. I learned it could be done, but not until the following morning. I allowed that idea to simmer a bit not agreeing to but not ruling it out either.

  Feeling defeat, I slowly retraced my steps until I found myself once again in my bedroom, but this time I closed and locked the door behind me. Thinking fast, I pulled the list of resort activities and decided on the first available competition. Grabbing the necessary items, I penned a note for Dora in quick and then rushed off to a most welcomed distraction.

  I had no real interest in a shuffleboard tournament, but it was an easy escape that offered me time to clear my thoughts free from Dora’s influence.

  Everyone participating in the Sycamore Cup Tournament was elderly and sporting white matching outfits with navy blue accents. There seemed to be an unspoken dress code for such events. In contrast, according to their standards, I was dressed somewhat provocatively which seemed to be a popular choice with the geriatric men.

  Purple tinted hair on the women seemed a standard. Most of which called me names like “trollop” or “hussy” behind my back and obviously felt threatened by my presence. I did find amusement in how feisty they all were. Some spoke a foreign tongue and I could only assume their opinions of me matched what I could understand.

  In the end, I withdrew my position in the tournament claiming a sudden migraine and landed on a bar stool sipping the resort specialty served in a coconut with a tiny umbrella on top. Everyone at the bar was partnered off and I suddenly believed that being single once again was a very lonely endeavor.

  This was a place for those traveling in pairs hoping to make business connections or to negotiate or find peace or to enjoy retirement or to honeymoon. This was a place for an up and coming yuppie, someone like Travis who wished to plant his name in a world of established blue bloods and hope that with nurturing grew wealthy clients. Below the surface, the resort was not a friendly place. Even during the promised honeymoon away from Travis it felt as if I had been given a consolation prize. I resigned myself to the mindset that life was often unfair. I ordered a shot to numb this newfound reality.

  Surrendering to the calming effects of alcohol and circumstance, I phoned the room and invited Dora to dine with me at the bar.

  She begged me to return to the room for she needed to speak with me…it was as she said in her sexy accent all Spain, "urgent."

  When I entered the room, she was curled on the leather sofa and the full wall of flat screen was exposed playing a Spanish film without subtitles. Her brown eyes expressed warmth as she glanced up at me. She lifted the large remote, clicked off the distraction then patted the sofa next to her.

  I felt like a clod for the panic I had experienced. There was nothing to be afraid of where Dora was concerned. She was just someone facing a rough spot and who was in need of a shoulder to cry on…my shoulder was only a replacement to the sister she was missing…so why on earth did I react in such a way?

  I took a seat, shaking my head, feeling extreme shame and guilt for wishing to abandon her.

  “The front desk phoned looking for you Carmen. They wanted to know if they should place you on the ship’s manifest for tomorrow morning or not.” Dora’s eyes were lined with worry and it appeared as if she was hurt by the thought of my early departure.

  I took a deep breath feeling horrible that Dora realized that I wanted to escape and probably had me figured out.

  “No, I thought I should return to the city but realized I was being foolish.”

  “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable before. You're right, you're NOT my sister and it is unfair of me to treat you like um, how would you say? A stand in?”

  “It’s okay. Admittedly, I’m going through some personal issues as well. You’re not my husband nor are you a replacement to him.”

  Dora grinned sheepishly, “Though I’d be a much better replacement.” Her eyes reflected mischief and I caught that she was flirting to lighten the mood.

  “Hell, you looked at me and stroked my face, that’s more foreplay than I’ve had in at least eight years now.”

  “Carmen, you're truly awesome and deserve so much better than that.”

  “Thanks Spain.” I said chuckling.

  “Seriously, I think what you need is to put yourself out there in order to comprehend what sort of a gift your new freedom is exactly.”

  “Gift?” I questioned.

  “You’re young, smart, slender, have eyes that light up the room, you’re all feminine, so very glamorous, all Hollywood although you live in Chicago…I’d go on but I’m running out of flattering things to say here…but the greatest gift of all is that you are free to find yourself!” Dora declared.

  “I AM all that and you're right!” I said feeling a surge of promise.

  “My sister Laura and I used to meet in Paris every once in a while to enjoy the nightlife. We’d work the club and she’d often leave within the first half hour with the finest of men. Nothing serious, it was just a means to prove to herself that she could. What we need to do for you Carmen, is work the club here so that you can understand the wonders of being single.”

  “Sure," I said enabling her idea to sink in. "It may just be what I need right now.” I felt a surge of relief for her suggestion seemed to include the answers to the most complicated questions I had suddenly found myself asking.

  “Let’s go then! I have a wonderful dress that you can borrow if you like. It’s a private design, right off the runway in Paris.”

  “I couldn’t.” I protested regarding her dress.

  Dora smiled with warmth. “Yes you can, and I insist.”

  Chapter 07: Spain Appreciating America the Beautiful

  Even though the evening out was not about me, I felt jittery within. It conjured memories of the many times Laura, our friend Maya and I prepared for such occasions. There was a ritual, applying makeup, trying on clothes, finding just the right shoes which involved much laughter, lighthearted teasing and gossip. We often burst with anticipation as the limo carted us to the most prestigious hot spots in Madrid. Those were the days, the most precious of days…with the many wonders of being young, wild, and free.

  On occasion, it would begin with a line of cocaine; which in Europe was more accepted as a normal part of “letting it all go” if all but for a moment. Carmen seemed too straight laced and too serious as to indulge, so I did not inquire as such. I did however; make certain there was protection for her, had she found herself in need of such considerations. There was one thing that became clear to me; I cared for the American, I cared for her very much.

  I gladly offered my best clothes to Carmen. She seemed to need a confidence boost and to be honest, I felt guilty about holding her vacation hostage. I was set to rewrite this endeavor to be about her; I hoped to give her the opportunity to jump into the water and remember how terrific it was to swim. She so needed that, she so deserved to fill her life with wonderful experiences and to eventually find love once again.

  I dressed as a conservative with the hopes that the men would be put off from my lack of display. I pulled my hair back in a French braid and did not apply much make-up. Altho
ugh I sported a classic scarf, there was nothing about my outfit that anyone could possibly consider sexy.

  Carmen on the other hand, emitted sensuality. My black dress appeared as if it were designed specifically for her. The neckline plunged showing a tasteful amount of cleavage. Her body shape was a bit more toned than mine probably from her dedication to the practice of yoga. Her image carried the perfect hint of what was beneath without giving out too much of the whole picture. Many women made the mistake of offering a full view which robbed the observer any latitude for fantasy or imagination.

  Woven within the material of the dress were subtle bursts of sparkle to reflect and shimmer, which was specifically intended for club lighting. I loved that dress and Laura was always trying to barter with me to acquire it. I kept it under lock and key, never allowing my sister anywhere near. Oh how she tried, and there was never any chance for her to buy anything similar since I had the piece designed for me exclusively. I spared no expense and I believe that every woman should have the perfect frock that when they put it on, they can escape and become someone else, if only for a few hours of pretend.

  That dress was “it” for me; that dress helped me to feel as if anything was possible and every time that I wore it, I took command. I wanted to share that feeling with Carmen; I wanted her to have that experience to carry with her always. That is why I offered it to her, that is why I felt she was worthy of wearing something that meant so much to me. As far as never allowing Laura to borrow my dress, well, there were some things twin sisters shared and others things that we didn’t, certain clothes and never special friends or lovers. Well almost never any of our friends or lovers.

  Just before we left the penthouse, I handed Carmen the matching black clutch for the dress.

  “I really shouldn’t,” she said blushing. “I feel like Cinderella ready to meet the prince at the royal ball…and you’re my fairy godmother.”

  “Don’t’ be ridiculous,” I responded in a curt tone. I was put off by Carmen's association of me as an old hag.

  “There’s a strip of prophylactics inside the purse. Use them to protect yourself.”

  Carmen’s eyes widened with sudden distress. “Condoms? What the hell am I thinking? I haven’t done this in years. What am I doing here, Dora, I’m not ready for this sort of thing…I’m really not!”

  “You’ll be just fine. Just take only if you want to take. Tonight is all about getting out there again and having some fun. Besides, I’ll be there with you. Follow my lead and don’t settle for just anyone. Be selective…you deserve to be selective…make this experience only about what you need and want.”

  “My insides are in a twist and I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

  I grinned sheepishly realizing some coke would have offered her a bit of instantaneous “I don’t care because I’m flying high right now” attitude.

  Regardless, we took the elevator to the connecting bridge that merged the hotel accommodations with nightclubs, restaurants, ornate bars, a theater and a private gambling casino.

  All within that same building, the three separate nightclubs were operating in full force. There was nothing too different about the clubs except the age of those in attendance. It was apparent from the time frame of the music, which club was geared towards whom. On floor seven we had music from the later 1980’s and an older group of people present. Floor eight offered the 1990’s and was more in range with our age bracket. Floor twelve however was geared towards the mid to late 20 age group. There seemed to be much competition of youthful women which was best to be avoided.

  I pulled Carmen into the 90’s. I held her arm as we weaved through the huge bouquet of people. We headed straight for the bar and I ordered something strong and expensive. A man with dark smoldering eyes dropped a credit card and stated that the drinks were his courtesy. I gazed at him, sported a smile and introduced Carmen. Unfortunately, he did not seem at all interested in her but instead took my tepid presence as a challenge for conquest. I did my best to convey disinterest so that all focus would be on America but instead it was Spain that seemed to be in vogue.

  Carmen was absolutely beautiful but her confidence was at an all time low. The men seemed to sense her insecurity and that in itself was a major turn off. I excused myself and approached the music booth. The sound engineer agreed to play my favorite techno-swing mix and I suddenly felt great anticipation within. I handed him some cash to make my request more immediate.

  When I returned, Carmen was being held captive by a man who was droning on and on about himself. From her body language I guessed he was conversing about his last medical procedure to correct flat feet or perhaps his latest flare up of hemorrhoids.

  “Let’s dance,” I said directing my voice into her ear. Carmen followed me onto the crowded dance floor with an apprehensive expression. Rows of bodies moved in unison. The energy of music was intoxicating in itself.

  The familiar tune spun the present away and I was back in Paris once again. Laura had all ready gone off with her flavor of the night and I had the pick of women remaining. Yes, while it was true I had no use for men, it was the women that always peaked my curiosity and was, of course, my preference.

  Laura had no idea and I never let anyone know this part of who I was. Keeping such a secret placed me on constant guard for I was worried that my sister would not accept me. She was traditional in that respect and often spoke out against the gay community. There were times that Laura could be cruel and if we were not identical twins it would have led me to wonder if somehow my sister was switched with someone else at birth.

  Laura eventually abandoned the notion that her sister “Dora” would find a nice man and settle down. At first I kept my focus on decent grades in school, followed by graduate school, then of course finding my niche in the business world and then taking over our father’s company. I always placed a logical excuse in the way as a roadblock to deny this reality to those I felt would not understand. Laura’s friend Maya realized however, as she figured this out within moments of when I first met her as a teenager…but Maya was someone I chose to place completely out of my thoughts for that was an entirely different train wreck of regret.

  At first Carmen seemed stiff and unadventurous but as she began to follow the beat, she found expression within herself. Her style was undisciplined but graceful and I learned even more about her through her choices of movement, space and rhythm. In no time, the confident men of the room approached and folded in as if under her spell.

  All eyes became centered on Carmen. She was stunning in the black Hesiermae’ design and it proved to work magic for her as well. I remained at Carmen’s side even though many choices were suddenly before her. The more she moved, the less conscious she felt about being there. She strutted around me as I led, using my best moves from the club scenes in Paris. Carmen caught on quickly and we became the center focus of the spotlight. I had forgotten how much fun it was to be out on the dance floor showing off.

  About twenty minutes later, Carmen excused herself from me and stood at the bar chatting up a rather nice looking man with expensive shoes. He was impeccably dressed and emitted prestige. His type seemed to migrate towards blondes and Carmen appeared rather smitten with him as well. As she left the club, she grinned sheepishly at me then waved. I nodded offering a “thumbs up” at her choice.

  With her out of the picture, I gazed about the room in an attempt to find my own midnight snack. This was clearly not Paris. Without much of a choice, I decided to return to the suite and finish the movie I had started earlier.

  After changing clothes and removing my makeup, I nestled into the plush sofa. From the time I left the club to the spot where I arrived at in the movie, only twenty minutes had passed. I was surprised when Carmen returned from her evening out. In one hand she carried the clutch that I had loaned her, in the other the heels that were married to the dress but a half size too small for Carmen. They dangled as if they did not cost four thousand Euros. With a look of d
efeat, she took the sofa next to me and shook her head in disbelief.

  “He began by asking me if I did certain positions….” “I’m not sure if I understood everything he had in mind for his English was rather poor, but I knew there was nothing he had to offer that I wanted for myself.”

  “How dreadful,” I replied trying not to chuckle.

  “I realized I was in a situation that I didn’t want to be in, so I excused myself to the bathroom and sprinted out the door.”

  “You were very wise,” I said.

  “You didn’t leave with anyone?” Carmen asked looking around seemingly surprised.

  “No, there was no one there I felt worthy of me either.”

  “You made the best choice as well then,” she replied mimicking my tone.

  Carmen leaned over and placed her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for helping me tonight.”

  “You did not…how you say in your country? …get lucky?” I said gently tapping the crown of her head in a supportive manner.

  “I guess that’s not what I want after all. I want something deeper, something of substance. Getting lucky was what my marriage had been based on for so long. I need more. I deserve better than that. I want an entire package.”

  I fell silent wondering if I understood her implications or not. I whispered, “Good luck in finding that.”

  A moment later, Carmen with her head still resting on my shoulder said while staring at the screen before her, “You know, I have no idea what these people are saying.”

  I began to laugh. “Make something up then, invent your own dialogue.”

  Carmen then proceeded to make ridiculous lines for the characters before us.

  “You want a beef pot pie or a ham sandwich?” “You know we are out of mayonnaise, a beef pot pie you fool. YOU know I am all for beef pot pies, WHY can’t you remember anything so simple?”