by Leslie Pike
Chapter Nineteen
Finn
We’re only a few miles from the condo, but it seems like it’s taking forever. A hard on will bend time like that. Beam me up to our bed, Scotty, it’s taking too fucking long this way.
“I understand why you put your pants back on, but why did you zip up?” I ask.
She throws her purse to the back seat and unzips her pants. I’m watching the road, but I only need one hand on the wheel. I reach over and slip my fingers between her jeans and her panties. The feel of a woman’s pussy through silky fabric is a turn on. Running the smooth cloth between her lips, so I can see the outline of her, is another. I move my finger back and forth, following the charmed path. Esme reclines her seat. It leans slowly back, leaving her pussy in perfect presentation. She lifts her ass and pulls her pants down. But she leaves her panties on. She’s got an uncanny sense for what I find sexy. It didn’t take her long to figure out I like the tease. Make me want it, just a little. I feel the suggestion of her clit, the tiny bead just waiting for me to worship it.
I right the car, which just veered across the white line. My finger hooks into the edge of the silky triangle covering her. We come to a red light, so now I have the use of my two hands. While I pull her panties down, I’m moving my other hand under her top. She’s got her eyes closed, and I love that her expression of passion is so real and without pretense. When I see that, it’s pure inspiration. My cock thinks it hears someone calling its’ name, because it always lifts its head at the sight of her. HONK! Oh crap. I give the car behind us a wave, and proceed across the intersection.
“No, don’t stop,” Esme says.
She takes my hand and uses it to rub herself. Yes. Do that.
* * *
By the time I’m walking into my AA meeting, I realize I’m ten minutes late. The fact that I’m here at all, proves my dedication to staying sober. I left a naked woman in my bed, when she showed no signs of wanting to stop fucking or sucking. Her pussy is so sweet and juicy, like a ripe peach waiting for someone to take a bite. And yet, there’s an innocence about her. Maybe it’s just youth. But I’ve been with twenty year olds for two decades now, and none have been made of the same things that she’s made from. In bed and out, no one else has given me this same rush. She’s escaped the ordinary in every way.
My lips taste like her. I purposely left her scent on me. I can’t help but smile and picture how that came to be. Her sitting on my face is a grand and glorious thing conceived by the gods. The taste of liquor doesn’t hold a candle to the taste of Esme.
“Finn, join us,” Ty says.
I snap back to the present. The room at the YMCA smells a little musty, and the windows need cleaning. But I like the fact that none of these men give a shit that I’m part of their crew. Ty, who leads the meetings, has not disappointed. Every day I expect him to change outfits. But each day he comes wearing the same exact clothes.
“Hey,” I say.
I join the circle of seven men. We added a few new members over the weekend. They’ve got the same look on their faces as I did, those first meetings.
“Barney’s telling us about his struggles last night,” Ty says.
I nearly fall asleep during Barney’s telling of the great “Finding The Hidden Bottle” story. It could have been told in three sentences. “I came across a bottle I had stashed in the hamper. I wanted to drink it. I didn’t drink it.” The end. Instead, Barney took ten minutes to give us all the details. He found the bottle under a pile of dirty shorts. It was ten o’clock at night, just as his wife was going to bed. They sleep in separate rooms and rarely have sex anymore. He had to be quiet because she’s a light sleeper. And on and on. Hey Barney, why didn’t you tell us how long it takes you to take a shit? I’m sure you did that somewhere in that mesmerizing retelling. Feckin’ alcoholics. Oh yeah, that’s me too.
But the next speaker makes up for Barneys sleep inducing storytelling. George. I call him “angry guy”. He seems to be pissed off at almost everything. This is one entertaining man. At least to the men here he is. I know that, because everybody listens intently and laughs somewhere in his presentation. He’s like an alcoholic, cigarette smoking version of comedian Lewis Black.
“And how was your night, George?” asks Ty.
“It was fucking annoying.”
“How so?”
“Dealing with those kids of mine is driving me crazy. Let me lay it out for everybody. I’ve got three idiot teenagers in my house. Two boys and a girl. Each one is stupider than the next. I was trying to be a good guy and told them to take the car to go get a burger. What’d they do? They ran into the car in front of them at the drive-up window! Then they backed up and ran into the car behind them! I know those little shits were fucking around with their fucking phones.”
We all try to hold back our laughter, but he’s just so aggravated. I think he’s actually enjoying the story too.
“Then, after I’ve dealt with that, my friggin wife tells me we have to go to her mother’s for dinner! I know this doesn’t sound bad, but trust me, it is. That fucking old woman keeps things in her freezer for years. Then she hauls it out and uses her meat experiments on us! It’s disgusting. Long story short, I wanted to drink.”
We’re all laughing by this point, and even George has a smile on his face.
“Well if that doesn’t make you drink George, nothing will,” Ty says.
He turns to me. “How about you, Finn? Did you have any challenges?”
“Every day and every night is a challenge. But I’m handling it, and my resolve is strong. At least today it is. I’m staying steady,” I say.
Ty nods. He understands my struggles all too well.
“Good. We all need to acknowledge the fact that from here on out, it’ll take all we have, every day. Some will have harder times than others, but no one is going to have it easy. Not one of us. You have to steel yourself for the fight, because this enemy knows you like a book.”
* * *
After the meeting, I pick up Paul and Esme. He’s been very quiet lately. I know he’s missing BB, and by the looks of things she’s lonely too. She’s a little too showy when she flirts with other men. And that’s only when Paul’s watching. Only for his benefit. I’ve noticed when he’s not there, she’s not her normal playful self. Has Paul tamed the tiger? That would be an interesting twist in the story. He told me he’s concentrating on coming to a decision concerning the priesthood. I’m glad to hear it. And he’s doing it the right way, alone with his own counsel. Silence will be the best attendant. Honestly, I can’t see that the priesthood is the best place for him. Maybe at one time it was. But choices we make at eighteen are rarely good or permanent ones. Along with that, I saw him up close and personal, in action. It seemed to me, he was very happy there. That was a man who just discovered the vein of gold, and I doubt if he could ever forget where the mine can be found. But I’m keeping that opinion to myself. He needs to come to his own conclusions.
We pull onto the set and find our spot to park.
“I’ll see you later. I’ve got to get to Wardrobe,” Esme says.
“Let’s go see Jack. I’ve got something to ask him,” I say to Paul.
As soon as Esme leaves, I let Paul in on what’s really happening.
“I want to talk with Security. They’re all here tonight, but I didn’t want Esme to hear.”
We exit the car and head for the tables set up for our dinner break later. I can see a couple of the cops waiting for their call time to start. Robert and Vinnie. Good guys. They wave us over, when they see us coming.
“Hey,” Vinnie says.
We take a seat.
“I’ve got something I want to talk with you two about,” I say.
“How can we help?” Robert says.
“I need for you and your men to be aware of what’s going on with Esme.”
“The Wardrobe girl?”
“Yeah. She’s got a husband she’s in the process of divorcing. He�
��s not too happy about it, and she thinks he may show up here, looking for her.”
“Is the guy violent?”
“Yeah.”
“Does she have a restraining order?”
“No. she thought that would anger him more. She ran from him in Fairplay, Colorado. She’s not certain he’s tracked her here yet. But I would appreciate it if you kept an eye out, for anyone you’re not familiar with coming on set.”
“Does she have a picture of the guy?” Vinnie asks.
“No. He wouldn’t even allow her a phone, so no pictures. And she doesn’t know I’m talking with you guys. But I felt it was important. She means a lot to me.”
“We’ll keep a watch out. Can you describe him?”
“She said he’s not a big guy, but he works out and is tougher than he looks. Light colored hair. He’s got a military background, and he’s a hunter. So he’s familiar with guns and knives. That’s about all I know.”
“What does he drive?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll find out,” I say.
“It’s a black Ram truck. She mentioned it when we were talking,” Paul says.
Robert takes out his cell.
“Let me give you our numbers. Call if you need us.”
We exchange and enter each other’s number.
“Thanks, guys,” I say.
“We’ll be watching for him. Nobody will get past the barricades,” Vinnie says.
I wish the barricades were our only weak spot.
* * *
All night, I’ve had this uneasy feeling. But it’s hard to figure out which crisis I’m restless about. Is it Esme? Or is it my newfound sobriety? I’m either looking over my shoulder for a psycho, or looking within at my own demons. Right now, there’s no looking forward and no looking away. That could be a disaster. The fact that we’re shooting at night, adds another dimension to my apprehensions. Right beyond the lights of the set, is pitch black darkness. Only the tall canopies and branches of the trees are outlined by the night sky. He could be watching. This fucker’s twisted, and waiting for the operative moment is something he might do.
The things Esme’s told me about this piece of shit husband of hers, is beyond my understanding. Not that I’m interested in analyzing his particular madness. But how does a man get satisfaction from terrorizing the person he supposedly loves? Who am I kidding? This has nothing to do with love of any kind. It doesn’t take an Einstein to see it’s about control and a demented lack of self-esteem. When I think of the things he did to her, it makes me crazy. I need to stop playing that tape in my head. I can only imagine how it must haunt her. It’s an incredible thing that she’s able to still be a trustful and happy woman. And it’s an even greater feat, that she can still enjoy sex. That fucking asshole.
And what about the next chapter in our lives? Other than Bliss, I’ve never wanted to live with any woman. Why would I? No matter how into them I was, it always sounded like a horrible idea. Being tied to one woman made me itch. But with Esme, things look different. I imagine it would be pretty great. I want her to come stay with me in Dana Point, but when I brought it up, she resisted. And she did it for all the right reasons. At least on paper they sounded right, logical and backed by good reasoning. But it wasn’t the answer I wanted. And it was surprising. I guess my massive ego thought she’d jump at the offer. I thought any woman would. Good thing no one can hear me think that. I sound like a douche.
My freedom and independence isn’t something I give up lightly. But being with her is so much better than being apart from her. That’s just the truth of things. She’s so damned stubborn about this though. As far as I’m concerned, she’s already proven her ability to take care of herself and stand tall. Hell, she endured a monster and made a successful escape. All on her own. But she said she needed to prove to herself she can stand alone. Esme, let me show you we can stand alone together.
She’s with Paul, watching the scene being filmed. None of us onlookers have moved an inch, or made a sound, for the last five minutes. The ground here has too many dried pieces of bark and leaves, for us to take a quiet step. It would ruin the scene, and the sound man would be screaming. BB’s character is trying to find shelter for the night, after having escaped Father Adrian’s clutches. Her face shows the intensity of the situation. She kneels down, on a pile of leaves and starts to cry. But she has to cry without making a sound. She can’t let the psycho following her hear. It’s really a moving moment. A woman alone in a strange environment, with only her wits to save her.
“And CUT!” says Steven.
We take a collective breath. And now the background comes alive. You see everyone turn their cells back on. The A.D. makes her announcement.
“Dinner, everybody. Back at ten.”
“Great work, BB,” Steven says.
“Want to see?” Renee calls to her.
BB gets up and wipes the tears from her face. I’m watching Paul. He’s watching her. His expression says it all. He’s hurting. I walk over to where he and Esme stand.
“Good scene.”
“I believed those tears,” says Paul.
“When I read the script, I knew this scene was going to be powerful. But this was more than what was on the page. I’m in awe,” Esme says.
“Anybody hungry?” I say.
“You two lead the way. I’m going to bring up the rear,” Paul says.
We walk toward base camp, where dinner’s being served. We have to follow the lit path, marked off by the grips. It would be very easy to go off course, in the dark. I’ve got a hold of Esme’s hand, and I’m on guard. I know Paul’s watching too. Maybe he has the same feeling I do. Something’s not right. But Esme doesn’t seem to be spooked at all. I think she’s been living in fear for so long, she’s learned to manage it.
For some odd reason, my mother just came to mind. I feel her here with me. Since she died last year, I‘ve thought of her a million and one times. But when I’m worried about something, she seems to be present. I wish Esme had known her. They would have been fast friends, and my mother would have been a great comfort. Just as she was with Bliss. Isn’t it odd, that the two most important women in my life have been so wounded by their past. Deeply wounded. Hmmm.
CRACK! The three of us stop in our tracks. Someone to the left of us, off the lit trail, just stepped on a branch. I step in front of Esme. Paul takes the other side.
“Who’s there?” I say loudly.
The other people on the path stop and listen. But out of the darkness, comes one of the grips, zipping up his fly.
“Chill. It’s just me taking a leak,” he says.
“Damn, Carlos, you scared me. Couldn’t you wait till you were at base camp?” says one of the Craft Service girls.
“No, I couldn’t. When the Master beckons, I listen,” he says.
Everyone laughs it off. Everyone but the three of us. I must be jumpy, because for a moment I thought I saw movement, right behind where Carlos came out of the trees. But when I take a second look, everything is still. I’m imagining danger where no danger exists. Christ, will this day never end?
* * *
Our ride home was a quiet one. Not just because we’re all three dead tired, not just because it’s five in the morning, but because we need to come down. We’ve been on guard for hours now. Thank the saints we have the next two and a half days off. Then we’re down to five shooting days. There’s a hell of a lot to plan and accomplish between now and then. As we get out of the condo’s elevator, Paul’s the first one to speak.
“I’m going to sleep till tonight.”
I unlock our door.
“Ok, brother. Talk to you tomorrow. I mean today. I’m so fucking tired, I don’t know what day this is.”
“Thank you, Paul,” says Esme.
“For what, honey?”
“For watching over me. With you and Finn, I feel safe. You’re my two guardian angels.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m hardly an ang
el, darlin’. But maybe Paul’s still able to take flight,” I say.
Paul grins at the thought.
“I’m afraid not even one feather remains.”
Chapter Twenty
Paul
Lord, I need to talk. Here I am, after all these years of service to you and the church, and I feel like I hardly know you. That’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever thought. Or is it just proof, that I need to plumb deeper to find more of the truth of you? And is our separation part of a beautiful process of discovery? Do I have a clearer picture of you than I did as a child? It almost feels as if that innocent boy understood more of your nature than the man does. It was a time when there were no doubts or questions. Is that because on some level all children remember you, having just come from you? Having been so fresh from God.
As a man, my questions multiply exponentially. And they hardly ever get answered. I’ll always be searching for my creator. I’ve devoted my life to that quest, trying to prove to myself that you exist. The most solid argument that I can make, is that love exists. The undefinable nature of love. I think in the end, it will save us from ourselves. From all of our foolish and destructive ways. And so I’ll continue to look and find you wherever I find love. I know it’s everywhere.
There’s only one constant in our relationship, Lord. Whatever you are, I know I love you. I know you love me, whatever I am. That to me is the majesty of God to man. The manifestation of unconditional love. Love with no terms or conditions. It’s in the gift of free will. That’s the way to you. Here is where I see your plan most clearly. In that one thought.
But now my quest broadens. I want to know human love. Love between a man and a woman. I want that gift you gave us, that makes this life bearable. It softens every sharp edge of existence, and lights up our beingness. I see this, even as I take my first steps across the threshold of love. And this is why I’ve decided to leave the priesthood. Of course, you already know my reasons. But my human nature dictates that I tell myself through you. I know you’re holding up the mirror that I must look into. I’ve been my own Devil’s Advocate for several years now. I’ve argued both sides of the question, tirelessly. But there’s no getting away from my conclusion. My happiness lies apart from a religious calling. And I don’t think happiness is a frivolous or selfish pursuit. I think it’s what you intend for us all. Don’t we want our loved ones to be happy? I belong somewhere new.