by Jack Parker
"Luci?" I started as I watched her button the cuff of her white shirt.
She leaned into her chair and placed her arms on the rests, resuming her predatory. Her face flushed with either anger or embarrassment, maybe both, and her chest floated up and down rapidly with the emotion. The blue around her pupils darkened with anger at me and perhaps the display of vulnerability she'd just shown. The woman even looked gorgeous when she was angry. Her knuckles turned white from her death grip on the arms of the chair, contrasting with the dark wood distinctly.
"Allow me to explain something to you, Lauren. When I ask you a question, I expect a full and honest answer. Since you cannot do that, I shall answer the question for you. You wish to be employed by me because the ad I ran in the local newspaper explained that I would provide room and board for the successful candidate. You wish to escape your life, and I believe that may be due to the fact that you have manipulated one too many people in the same manner you've just tried to manipulate me. In a town this size, people have certainly noticed. I will tell you now that I am not interested in head games nor do I wish to begin our relationship based on deceit."
Her eyes had gone cold through her speech, and I knew that I'd lost my chance for now, perhaps forever. Her voice had turned into hot red silk, smooth and dangerous, unlike the gentle blue silk I had imagined previously but no less enchanting. Her fingers clenched and released the arm of the chair reflexively as she visibly worked to control her anger and thoughts. Finally, something resolved the conflict in her mind as her fingers stilled and her body relaxed into the chair once more.
"However, I am willing to overlook this transgression because you were willing to take a risk in order to obtain the desired result. This indicates to me that you have a certain initiative that could be cultivated for my purpose." Her voice had changed yet again. Her entire demeanor transformed into something haughty, condescending, and with those two sentences, she had stripped my identity and completely objectified me into categories of abilities and transgressions.
Her words confused me, scared me, and I wondered if the woman might be slightly unhinged mentally. I stared, that familiar feeling of dread and apprehension shooting adrenaline through my fingertips. Despite her obvious mental disposition, this wealthy, gorgeous, charismatic creature had tried so hard to show me kindness, but as per my usual affect on those around me, I had invoked her wrath instead of her favor. I stayed still and nervously picked at a loose string on the hem of my jeans. The imperfect fabric reminded me that I was of an inferior status to this woman, but not until I had tried to take advantage of her did she lever herself above me. Judge and be judged, I suppose.
That didn't alter the fact, though, that Luci Pravitas may be emotionally unstable. This was not one of my most stellar decisions, considering I knew nothing about the rich woman who bought the creepy mansion on the edge of town. No one knew anything about her. Most of them weren't even aware that the Carver Manor had been bought and was in the process of renovation presently. One day it was a forgotten relic, a reminder of whatever evil had been committed here, and the next this elegant slightly insane woman had snatched it up and restored it. Maybe Old Pete was right; this place released your demons and darkest desires, and Luci's sophistication and grace could not save her from the basic biological impulses of a human being.
I spared a look at her eyes. They glowed brightly with an anger so palpable that I felt it seeping into my pores, and I fought the urge to run. Her overreaction to the situation inflamed a rage of my own, and I used it to cover my fear of what might happen next. I stood abruptly, the thud of my boots echoing in the silent wood. I stared down at the beautiful woman, not willing to admit that she scared me even though I stood over her. Some of the anger in her eyes dissipated, and amusement replaced the brightness.
"Look, Luci, my personal life has nothing to do with my work ethic. I can talk to you about almost anything you want, but I'm not going to drag myself through all of that crap just because you want someone 'interesting' to talk to. If you want trust and respect, then you are going to have to earn it, especially if you're expecting a lifelong devotion." I meant to stop there, but words continued to flow from my mouth without my brain's permission; I was powerless to stop them.
"Did it ever occur to you that no one in this God-forsaken town would find you interesting enough to devote their life to your cause?" A strand of my long black hair caught in my mouth, and my hand jerked at it angrily. "You sit here surrounded by your pretty mansion and expensive crap but are willing to pay someone to be nice to you. To be your friend, your 'heir' as you put it. Well, money can't buy that."
Through my outburst, Luci had remained pressed against the back cushion of her antique chair, allowing me to release my thoughts as I liked. Her projected calmness irritated me more than the heaving of my own chest that now matched hers, and I clenched my jaws tightly against the erratic pounding in my chest. She appeared neither angry nor scared by my heated words, but a combination of amused and appreciative and a hint of something that I could not identify, which served to only further confuse and infuriate me.
"Are you quite finished?" Her voice turned cold once more as a rapacious glint livened her eyes. My anger falter, succumbing to my covered fear, as I once again felt like a cornered mouse being stalked by a cat that was ready to pounce.
I turned and took two steps towards the door, frustrated that the tables had turned so quickly in her favor. She'd bested me, and we both knew it. Was this a test? I stopped and half turned to look at her again, not ready to admit defeat. I still had no clue how this woman worked, and it frustrated me to no end. I was a fantastic judge of character, but she stumped me at every turn. Despite my anger and fear, I tried to memorize everything about her beauty. Her high cheek bones and pale, spotless skin complimented her tall thin figure and soft blonde hair. Never again would I encounter such an elegant creature, but I simply could not be what she was asking. I doubted highly that anyone within a 100 mile radius could simply open themselves up to a perfect stranger. The conundrum of small town living, everyone buried their secrets and pretended to be nice and happy and neighborly, but in reality, they all dreamed of simply disappearing, ending it all just to escape the hypocrisy of their meaningless lives.
"Quite frankly, you're not going to get anyone around here to do that. We don't talk about shit around here. We just put on a happy face and pretend it never happened, go chop some wood or tend a garden, but we never talk about it," I explained further when I saw the dejection in Luci's eyes at my abrupt exit.
"You're right, Lauren," She nearly whispered. Her slowed movements as she stood and took calculated steps across the room pulled at my heart; she truly was a lonely woman, a beautiful and elegant and terribly alone woman. She stopped just out of my arm's reach, and I battled with the urge to give her a hug.
My immediate compassion for Luci irritated me more than her ability to read me. She was a perfect stranger. I'd certainly never felt anything resembling sympathy or guilt for anyone who hadn't earned it in my eyes, and Luci had most definitely not earned my respect yet. That's what I told myself, anyway, but deep down, I knew that I didn't want to take advantage of this woman. If I touched her again, I'm wasn't certain I'd contain that urge for dominance, that blatant urge for power that I indulged so freely.
"Please forgive me for undermining your culture and upsetting you. That was not my intention, truly." The kindness had returned to her eyes along with something else I could not quite decipher. Her face and shoulders seemed to sag with exhaustion; perhaps she understood better than most that urge to escape her hollow existence.
"It's okay," I mumbled and found my boots incredibly interesting. The floor, her shiny red shoes, my eyes flickered everywhere except to her brokenness.
"I do believe that the stress of the restoration and my international relocation has compromised my propriety. It has been nearly 30 years since I've lived in a town of this size, I'm afraid." Her voice nearly resem
bled the warm blue silky texture as she recovered from my rejection and the strain of our earlier conversation, and my eyes ventured back to hers. The warmth and kindness had returned fully, reminding me that this woman had a huge capacity for love and compassion. It also warned me again that her kindness had been taken advantage of one too many times, by people exactly like me, and I decided then that I would not further damage her faith in humanity.
"I think I should go, Luci," I stated softly, and she offered one curt nod in response. Her reaction disappointed me; I wasn't ready to leave this house or her yet. When I took advantage of men, I felt no guilt, no remorse, but they were not broken. They were looking for a good time girl or thought so highly of themselves that I could not resist tearing them down a peg or two. They were never so fragile, so soft and warm, kind in the face of adversity, not like Luci. I would never dream of taking advantage of my own sister or my best friend, and I could not bring myself to do it to this damaged woman. Perhaps women were more precious to me than men. Perhaps I identified too much with Luci.
"Let me walk you out, then," she offered a small smile and took a step towards the door of the study quickly.
"No, no please don't. I'll be fine." I practically begged. I didn't want to look at those kind eyes any longer than necessary or listen to the beautiful cadence of her voice one more time.
She sensed my need to leave alone and again bowed her head gracefully before clicking back to the small table and retrieving her forgotten tea. She never looked back as she continued to the gigantic wooden desk and lowered herself into the modern mesh-backed office chair. I sighed and turned towards the door of the study, and my body railed against the wishes of my mind and heart, which were to apologize and beg for another chance. I stopped at the threshold and placed a hand on the frame and fought the urge to beat my head against the wall. Why couldn't I just leave?
"You're right," I admitted before turning back to find those observant eyes upon me. "The reason why I came here today. I do want to escape." The sympathy in her eyes turned mine towards the dying embers in the fireplace, and I allowed my thoughts to wonder what her pale skin and the Red Oak timber would look like with nothing but the dancing flames to light them. I didn't think the impressive structure could compare to the beauty of Luci's face in such lighting.
"Lauren, would you like to come back tomorrow for another interview?" She asked. I seriously considered her offer for a moment, but her head leaned slightly to one side, exposing the skin on one side of her neck, as she waited for my response. Two more angry scars peeped around the collar of her white dress shirt, and I shook my head.
"I can't. I'm sorry." I wasn't sure she heard my answer as I turned and crossed the fifty feet to the front door swiftly. This woman had been abused enough by her life already. I would not subject her to my habit of destroying the people around me like a dog would a piece of steak. All that would be left of this already damaged woman would be the bones, and when I became bored, I would gnaw on them some more until there was nothing left.
That was my first and what I had assumed would be my last interaction with Luci Pravitas.
CHAPTER 2
The next morning I awoke an hour before my alarm sounded and dutifully donned my scratchy red polo with my name embroidered above the left breast and began the one mile trek towards town, my prison. I stopped when I reached the end of my dirt road drive way. If I turned left, I walked directly to the diner and my own personal hell, but if I turned right, I left town. This wasn't the first morning I had stood in this very spot and mulled over the same decision, pondering just how simple it would have been to leave one morning and never look back. Drained my meager savings account and gathered the wad of cash under my mattress and abandoned my father and this town to the dark clutches of their own vices. Why hadn't I run like my sister five years ago? Why didn't I go with her then? I always vowed that I would go just as soon as I could, so why hadn't I made good on that promise? I knew why, but the answer brought no comfort.
If I simply left, abandoned all responsibility, then I became exactly like my parents, a nothing, a nobody. My father might physically remained, but he was lost to his family years ago when the bottle became more important than the people in his life. What honor could I have found in knowing that I merely tucked tail and ran instead of fighting for the life I wanted. What would my sister do if she returned only to find me vanished? Then again, I wondered if it required more strength to leave than to stay. Maybe I wasn't as strong as Lilly and our mother because staying due to a sense of obligation only gave me a foundation to justify my own victimhood when I could have left years ago.
I kicked at a rock and scratched my forehead. Luci's intensely sad, beautiful blue eyes flashed through my mind, and I ran shaking fingers through my dark hair in frustration. A right turn and a brisk twenty minute walk were the only obstacles standing between me and those wonderfully haunted eyes. A sigh deflated my entire chest, pulling my shoulders forward, and I fished cigarettes from the front pocket of my jeans. The fingers of stress that had crept up my skull immediately retracted when I inhaled the first drag. The familiar burn comforted me.
"Lauren Danes, just leave it alone," I chided myself and turned left. Even if I managed to create a healthy, non-damaging relationship with Luci, the fear of my father's reaction strangled any peace it brought unless I ran far enough to become completely invisible. Slightly less convicted about my fancies to run away, I dragged my feet onwards and accepted my fate.
After the last time he hunted me down, I knew better than to even put Luci in such a compromising position. An elegant creature such as Luci Pravitas probably would never have found in me a suitable match for a companion anyway. This action was for the best, for both her safety and my sanity. Fully convinced I had made the right decision, I pulled the last drag from my cigarette and flipped it onto the pavement a few feet in front of me. I stepped on it as I passed, hearing Smokey the Bear's voice in my head telling me that I was the only one who could prevent forest fires. That phrase stuck with me from grade school, and I constantly worried about my cigarettes catching leaves on fire and burning the town to the ground. On the other hand, perhaps a little excitement would have done the town some good. Maybe it should burn, be sanitized.
I stopped abruptly, nearly tripping over my own feet. There it was. That evil little voice that had spoken to me since I was a child, telling me that I should rid the world of the giant vat of hypocrisy and filth that was this ass backwards town. It reminded me of that saying about good people doing nothing in the face of evil being an evil act in and of itself. I ground my teeth together and kicked at gravel. Maybe Old Pete correctly predicted the mansion's ability to evoke the devil inside people when they ventured near.
When I reached the open backdoor of the diner, my mind refused to face my doomed reality yet. I strolled straight through the storeroom and kitchen, poured a cup of coffee in the dining room, and then retraced my steps to the backdoor. Barb nodded in understanding and turned back to the gravy she stirred. I had plenty of time to enjoy a cup of coffee and another cigarette before the customers rolled in around seven o'clock.
I plopped down on the top step and fished my cigarettes from my pocket, tossing the pack beside me on the cracked wooden step. I'd only made it through half the coffee and cigarette when Ashley, another waitress, pulled up in her tiny red clunker of a car. She passed for the closest thing to a friend I had, never judged me for anything I'd done. She even cried on my shoulder from time to time when the tension with her husband grew too painful to hold inside anymore. She was the most genuine person I had ever met, and I would have killed her husband a long time ago if I could have figured out how to get away with the crime easily. The fuckster had made more passes at me than I cared to count, but no matter how badly I wanted to eat him alive, I refused to be the cause of another of his transgressions against Ashley. Like Luci, I protected her from more pain like my very soul depended on the act.
I pulled ano
ther drag from my cigarette as Ashley flopped down beside me on the step, already exhausted before the day had begun. I passed her the now lukewarm coffee and cigarettes. She hummed gratefully when she sipped the coffee, and I watched her throat work the liquid into her belly. She had always been by far the most beautiful woman in this town, until Luci, and I often found myself simply watching her. I never puzzled out if I wanted to be her or bed her, but I knew that it didn't matter as long as she never left my life. I couldn't help but wonder, though. Would I have felt differently, touched her tenderly and held her closely after I made her putty under my hands? Or would I view her exactly the same as the men I'd been with, something to be used and discarded?
I'd struggled with the same dilemma yesterday regarding Luci, and it made Ashley all the more attractive to me. She was the only woman I'd ever been attracted to until Luci, and I understood that Luci's sanity probably depended on me maintaining my distance. I'd never been with a woman, the only line I'd never crossed. I wasn't sure this town capable of recovering from the shock. I'd been offered once, though, ironically from the same gym teacher who had pulled me into the locker room all those years ago. She was still young, early thirties by now, and very attractive, but I'd been too afraid of being caught to go through with it. I spent that night dancing at the lodge, the closest thing to a bar in this place, looking for my next victim and bumped into her in the bathroom about a year ago. She was drunk and lonely, and I sat beside her on the floor and chatted for a few minutes. This place made people like her, those who didn't fit in, feel as though they lived in a town with a population of one. She confided in me that night why she'd never married despite the many offers and then pressed her soft, wet lips to mine. I bolted, worried that someone might see but more afraid of myself because I actually liked it, and left her crying on the bathroom floor. I nodded to her every encounter we had after that night, and we shared a look of understanding. I'd keep her secret, and she'd make herself available if I ever stopped being afraid. She was sweet, and I knew that she should never have to experience the likes of me.