Rescue Fantasies (Part 6) (842 hits)
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Submitted by fried-green-potatoes (View user info) at 2005-12-23 04:21:42 EST
http://www.ubersite.com/m/72067 (Part 1)
http://www.ubersite.com/m/80255 (Part 2)
http://www.ubersite.com/m/80857 (Part 3)
http://www.ubersite.com/m/81155 (Part 4)
http://www.ubersite.com/m/69317 (Part 5)
John picked up the egg-shaped music box. It was seated among the few keepsakes on the end table, and the lacquer finish felt cool in his hands. He gave the thumbscrew a gentle twist, and it obliged with a few predictable bars of Pachelbel before the spring went slack. Jan returned to her living room, two cups of tea in her hand, and nestled beside him on the couch.
"You break it, you bought it," she scolded, parroting the words of the old woman who sold it to them that afternoon. She had just stepped out of the shower, and the heat of the water was still on her skin. John could feel it through her silk robe. Smiling, he set the egg down and pressed against her side to capture the warmth. The man's eyes drifted to the edge of the table, to a framed photograph of a young girl in a soccer uniform. Jan must have felt the look. She quickly picked up the photo and held it between them.
"Your daughter?"
"Umm hmmm."
"Kylie, right?"
"Kylie."
The photograph had been cropped hard to fit the frame. The girl must have been about 12, and she stared into the lens with wide green eyes. It was a strange look, a severe gaze that ignored an arm draped around her neck. Probably an off-camera teammate, John guessed. The pale blue of her jersey stood out against the emerald pitch. Beneath a faint spray of freckles, the girl's face was hot and flushed. Her short, dark hair was matted and had lost the part. Clearly, the game was over. Her features must favor her father, John thought. Except the soft set of the mouth. That was Jan's.
"Very sweet...it's your mouth, you know."
"Think so?" Jan replied. A trace of a smile told John that she had heard this before.
A curtain of damp curls hid part of Jan's face. John reached over and gently traced them into place behind her ear. Her gaze never left the photo.
"When was the last time you saw her, sweetheart?"
"Three months ago. I was up in New York, and Dad brought her into the city for the afternoon."
"She changed much?" John continued, nodding to the photo.
"Oh, God. That was taken....mmmm, I want to say three years ago. She's a young woman now, baby. You wouldn't know her."
"I don't know how you stand it," John said, stroking her soft hair. "She should be here...here with you now, sweetheart. I've seen how you are... with my Amy. You know, that kid is crazy for you. She tells me every time I see her. You're a natural."
Jan didn't reply. Her gaze was fixed on the photo. Her index finger lightly brushed across the glass, above the girl's dark hair. It was something John had seen before. His ex-wife had done it, too, when Amy was a baby, and it was one of the last good memories to survive. He would stand motionless in the bedroom door and watch the woman, smiling as she took in the beauty of the infant, using just the slightest touch of her index finger to part and sculpt the soft, new wisps along the baby's brow.
"Try to understand, baby," Jan started, swallowing hard. "It's just been... such a year, you know? The divorce... that was hard on Kylie, and then the move to my Dad's while I got things started down here. It's all a blur for her... for both of us."
Jan took a sip of tea. Her throat was tight and John could hear her swallow hard.
"Now, it's starting to settle down. Dad's been good to her, of course. Kylie made some friends up there and I want her to finish the school year. I'll have it sorted out by summer."
"Yes, but...."
"Trust me on this one, baby. By summer... I'll have her by then."
A soft kiss and a wistful look from Jan's hazel eyes sealed the conversation.
John found himself reluctantly replaying the particulars on the drive home. The forlorn, almost beseeching, look on her face brought an early close to the evening. But it was just an echo from early afternoon, when they ducked into the consignment shop off M Street. It was there that she bought the egg-shaped music box, and the purchase surprised not only him but also the shop owner. The old woman never looked up from her magazine at this couple seeking shelter from a sudden cloudburst.
John waited out the dull pause among the secondhand books that lined the walls: everything from diets and self-help to Victorian sentimentalists. Jan drifted near the center of the store, strolling among the folding tables where hand-knit items where sorted and neatly stacked. She browsed the castoff sweaters and jumpers, mostly for infants and toddlers, slowly unfurling one fabric after another, drawing a studied thumb and forefinger along collars, cuffs and waistbands.
There was a sad cast to her eyes, and, once again, her mouth was set in just that way. She carefully folded and returned them to the stack—a motion repeated time and again, always ending with a tender and lingering stroke of her fingertips across the pastel innocence of slightly worn knits. Jan brightened immediately when she saw him looking her, and she moved to the glass case that held the music boxes. They made the purchase quickly and left at the storm's first pause.
John drove down the road, past his apartment, lost in thought. Images began to gather and to assemble: Jan at the pieta....Jan lingering over castoff clothes for children....Her halting answers, and the way her fingers caressed a three-year-old photograph, one that didn't even resemble her daughter now. Suddenly, the margins of things mattered again. This time, it was a photograph, framed in mahogany and bordered with ivory matting. The edge was partially hidden by her hand that evening, but John had seen it just the same. Along the inside of the frame was a small handwritten inscription. The words began to resurface in his mind. "Though much is taken, much abides," it read.
The hum of tires beneath the pavement gave way to the spatter of gravel. The noise slowly died as John's foot slipped from the accelerator, and the car slid gently to a stop on the margin of the darkened highway. He fumbled for a cigarette and lit it with trembling hand. Thin wisps of smoke held the glow of the dashboard and then dissolved into darkness as John stared down the empty road.
"That kid is dead," he muttered to himself.
User Reviews
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-01-22 16:32:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-01-19 09:52:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by fried-green-potatoes (user info) at 2005-12-26 01:51:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Glad you enjoyed it so far, j0andre1. No question the working title lacks subtlety, but it does help keep me on track. I'm leaning toward "White Night" (white knight) for the final, but I'll revisit that when it's complete. It's been fun; and the big problem right now is time, since I've got a couple of out-of-town writing assignments coming up soon. Thanks for reading.
Submitted by j0andre1 (user info) at 2005-12-23 22:20:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
When I read the title, I though someone out there actually had the same sexual fantasy involving David Hassselhoff in a red Baywatch bikini.
Regardless...
Good fucking motherfucking shit motherfucker
Submitted by fried-green-potatoes (user info) at 2005-12-23 17:36:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You don't have to explain who you are, where you live or what you do, Jack.
You do great work here, so I've got a pretty good handle on all three.
Thanks for the kind words. I hope you hit your flops.
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-12-23 14:32:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
you are one of maybe five "real" writers on this site. i just killed an hour (between ipoker hands) on this series. you're writing is real, descriptive, and accessible. i also work in DC and reside just outside, so the setting rings incredibly true. great job with the summertime descriptions. i'm waiting to see where this will go.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-12-23 11:23:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-12-18 19:18:55 (#)
Ranking: 2
Your posts are some of the most quietly impressive on here.
Submitted by fried-green-potatoes (user info) at 2005-12-23 11:10:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks. Feels like it works, and I'm glad you agree. I need to tweak the story outline in here a little; but it feels like small changes rather than big shifts, so that's promising. Christmas and New Year's trump, of course. I plan to have the installment posted by mid-January. Thanks for reading.
Submitted by MistressFist (user info) at 2005-12-23 10:16:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-12-23 04:28:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
YES
keep it going, I want to see the crazy.