Date: Tue, 6 Aug 2013 11:58:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: rock_on_summer@yahoo.com
Subject: His Body Is My Universe 11

I haven't updated in a really, really long time. I know! I'm sorry! Stop
throwing stuff! Real life got in the way but thanks to people that have
written me over the years and kept asking what their favorite painter is
doing I have finally finished this chapter. As always: please, please
comment, good or bad to rock_on_Summer@yahoo.com. Also I'm not a native
speaker, so I'm sorry for any misspellings, grammar mistakes or whatever
mistakes I might have made.

Disclaimer: I wrote this, don't copy it unless you ask. This is fiction. If
there are people who are similar to the people in the story or have the
same name, I didn't intend it. Beware, teen sex, gay sex! Don't like that
don't enter, you have been warned.

Why are you still reading this when you could be reading the stuff that
comes next?


I was standing in the dim yellow light of the street lamp staring at the
way too cliche black wrought iron gate that was overgrown with black ivy. I
tried to open the big heavy gate to the cemetery. No such luck. A black
plate with gold writing told me that the cemetery was locked after
18.30. Probably to keep out teenage Goth kids that lit black candles on
graves and cut themselves to Evanescence music. Great! I circled the
cemetery and finally found a small gate in the thick wall that had been
left unlocked. I half expected the iron hinges to squeak but it swung open
without a sound.

I tried to put all superstition and fears of ghosts aside and entered the
graveyard. It occurred to me that it was easy to say, "I don't believe in
ghosts" when the lights were on. During the daytime and if some whacko
hadn't kidnapped my boyfriend, I would have found this place quite
calming. There were a couple of large pine trees and every grave was like a
flowerbed. They all were differently decorated according to the taste of
the one buried or their caring wives, mothers, children - or the
gardener. Some were overflowing with evergreen or small bushes, some had an
abundance of colorful flowers planted on them that were now pale in the
twilight. Others were decorated with additional cemetery vases with cut
flowers, some fresh, some dying. The smell of pine, earth and flower was in
the air and had it not been for the headstones this could have been a
park. A park with long straight dirt lanes. Now in the dark everything
seemed a little creepy. The names on the headstones barely readable, the
shadows of the trees pitch-black dark. The dirt under my feet felt like it
was hollow and I was wondering if I was walking on old graves that had been
leveled? I mean they did that, right?

There were no lamps and I wished I had thought to bring a flashlight. I
passed a grave that must have belonged to a child because it was decorated
with all sorts of toys and there was a teddy bear engraved on the
headstone. Emily Baker. 2001-2009 "loved and missed".

I tore my eyes from the headstone to look at my cell phone. The white light
of the display seemed way to bright for this place and I had the feeling
that I could be seen from three miles away. When Case had bought the thing
for me he insisted that I needed the newest, bestest and hardest to use
technology. Which meant I had a GPS system in my cell phone. Case said that
it would help me find my way out of a desert if I ever got lost. I had
replied that we lived in a moderate climate-zone and there were almost no
deserts here. He had retorted that I had a talent to make the impossible
happen and would probably manage to find and get lost in one. He was
probably right, as always. I had asked the people at the cell phone store
to show me how to use it and they had warned me that the accuracy was not
very good which wouldn't matter in a dessert but did on a cemetery. I had
to search in a radius of 3m. Which meant a square of 6m wide. I suck at
guessing distance. It showed when I tried parking my car. It was either way
too far from the others or ended up with a dent. I blame it on Case who
insists that his "member" is 20cm (we both know it's not - not that I care
as long as he knows how to use his tongue). When I had him back he could
tell me it was a meter long and I'd believe it all, no matter how much it
messed up my parking skills.

The black bundle of technology led me to an open space in front of a small
capella surrounded by a couple of large stone angels. The white winged
creatures were sitting on sockets almost as tall as I was and looked down
at me with empty marble eyes as if to say "What are you doing here? Don't
you know that we turn into demons at night? Like the whole world around
you"

I looked at my display. It had to be here. I walked to the entrance of the
chapel. The little green arrow on my display pointed back to where I came
from. I had left the 6m circle of GPS accuracy. I tried the heavy wooden
doors to the chapel just in case. Locked. Of course. Would have been too
easy.

I walked back to the white angels and walked in a circle. I walked away
from the chapel, the arrow on the GPS screen pointed back to where I had
been. This was a cemetery, it could be underground. The dirt didn't look
like it had been dug up, so there had to be a sort of catacomb like most of
the old cemeteries have. When I turned to walk back I noticed a couple of
bars at the socket of one of the angels. I walked closer hoping to find an
entrance to....well something. Bingo. This was a gate. Unfortunately it was
a locked gate.

I resisted the urge to hit my head. Stupid me had of course not prepared
for a lock and had not brought any tools. Because it hadn't seemed likely
that Case was locked up or in cuffs? What was I thinking? I guess I
hadn't. I had been panicking.

I walked in a circle in front of the gate, panicking again, palms getting
sweaty. I walked back to the gate and smelled it - smelled like cold
iron. I knew I was running out of time, the Creep was probably already on
his way back here, Case (or at least his cell phone) was down there, maybe
already dead and buried and I was standing here in front of a
gate. Something as simple as a gate was going to keep me from rescuing
Case?

I walked to one of the other Angels. It had a gate too. Also locked. Turned
out all of the Angels had a gate in their sockets. On one of them the lock
was broken and it was secured by a small black bike chain-lock, which was
wrought through the bars of the door and the gap between the stone and the
iron doorframe. This had to be the right gate. Unfortunately to me a bike
lock was as hard to open as a normal lock. Where was McGuiver when you
needed him?

Ok Lucy think. What can you do?  a) take a rock, beat the shit out of the
lock and hope it opens b) hide in the bushes, hope I don't pee my pants and
when the creep comes back (if he comes back) try to take him down when he
opens the door c) go get tools, which means that I have to leave again and
may miss The Creep d) cry

Ok scratch d. And I'm indecisive, so you decide. Whoever wants option a)
raise your hand and read on at letter A. If you think option b) is good,
read on at letter B, for option c) go to letter C. If you think all of this
is nonsense and you can come up with a better plan write an e-mail to the
author because this is all her fault anyways.


A (you're looking silly with your hand up in front of the screen.  It's
kind of cute though ;)

I found a chunky good-sized rock and started beating the lock with a
rock. The lock was unimpressed. I tore and swore but nothing happened. I
shook the bars. This was a dumb idea!  I decided hiding in the bushes would
be more productive right now.

Read on at B


B

I had to pee. Sitting in the bushes was boring and unnerving at the same
time. I was scared to be discovered but time was passing soooo slowly. It
was dark and seemed to be getting darker. I wanted this guy to come over so
I could ambush him and go get my man. I wanted him to be without a scratch,
take him home and burn the couch and this from my memory.  My foot had
fallen asleep from crouching and by now I was not so sure that The Creep
was even going to pass through this place. I was scared for Case and I
couldn't bare this anymore. I had to do something

(Read on at letter C)

C

I tried to sneak trough the abandoned cemetery as fast as I could to get
back to the car. I was hurrying through the lines of graves, passing
Emilie's grave. I finally made it to the car, racing of in search of a
hardware store. I bought something that looked like a scissor to cut iron,
a lock picking set and a flashlight. Glad that I had thought to bring
Case's credit card I gathered the stuff and hopped back into the car.

 I parked in a side street of the cemetery and didn't use the flashlight
when I got to the cemetery, just in case The Creep was already back. I ran
back to the gate as fast as I could and in one (ok maybe four) swift
movements I opened the lock. How easy was this!? And it didn't make any
noise either. A lot more effective then this crazy idea I had about hitting
it with a rock! I swung the door open and listened for any sound. Just the
dark and moist smell of basement. Other then that - nothing. Just then my
cell phone rang.



X

I was wondering if there was such a thing as fate when I read the caller
ID. It said "Home."

"Hello" I said, sounding out of breath when the chirping of my phone
against my ear told me that I hadn't hit the right button yet.

"Hello" I tried again, sounding slightly calmer.

"You were right, this is not what I want. This is shit" the Creep announced
angrily.

"Wow, that's harsh" I said, knowing that Case was probably a safe distance
away from him.

"I wanted a painting, a memory of my girl. What you made is absolute trash!
You think anyone could put this in their living room? And what's with the
dirty pear? This looks nothing like my girl" he sounded mad.

"Well, what did you expect?" I bitched back

"Not a painting of a cadaver. Something like the painting of your Asian
boy! Something real that seems like you can touch it, like it would start
to laugh when you gave it a new doll, or that would get mad when you told
her she couldn't have candy before dinner! Something that would help me
remember her. Make it better this time. More like her...more like the
paintings of the Asian boy" I had always kind of assumed that the Creep had
somehow killed the little girl on my couch but now I wasn't so sure. Maybe
he was just a crazy grieving man and I felt a pang of sympathy at the hurt
in his broken voice. I took a few seconds to phrase my answer carefully.

"Well...I love that Asian boy and I know him well. I know how his hair
moves when he shakes his head and how his eyebrows knit when he frowns. I
know what kind of chocolate he likes best and which wine will give him a
headache. But I don't know anything about this girl. To me she's just a
stranger on a couch. So that's all I could paint. I'm sorry..."

Was I apologizing to the guy that had kidnapped my boyfriend and put a dead
body on my couch!? I guess I was.

"...you know...it might help if you told me a little more about her...so I
can imagine how she once was... maybe that way I will be able to do a
better job" I suggested carefully.

"What do you need to know?"

And he talked. Her name was Emily, who it turned out was his daughter. She
had died from stomach cancer at 10 years old. Her mother had passed away
when Emily was born and now Robert - that was Creepy-man's real name knew
that he was going to suffer from dementia. He was going to loose all memory
of her and he couldn't bear it. He talked about random things, little
memories, her hair, that she had liked horses like most little girls, had
taken ballet classes and had loved the fluffy inside of biscuits. She had
had a little kitten named Spiffy and a turtle named Michelangelo. He told
me everything I needed to imagine what she was like and what might have
become of her if she hadn't died way too early.

"It would have been easier to write me a letter and send me some
pictures. Would have saved both of us a lot of trouble" I flat out told
him.

"I know, but would you have helped me?"

"I don't know" I answered honestly. I might have. Or maybe not. Maybe I
would have been angry at being burdened with someone else's problems. Maybe
I would have been happy to help. It would have depended on my mood. But it
didn't matter now.

"So...what are you going to do with her now?" I asked him

"Burry her. Put her back in the ground I guess. To me she is still
beautiful and I can still see how she was when she was alive. I guess it
makes sense that you can't. I'll put her back to rest" - take the
cootie-couch with you!

"Can you send me a picture of her?" I asked

"A picture? Do you mean you are going to try again?" he asked, surprise in
his voice.

"Well....I guess. With what you told me about her I can imagine her much
better..."

"Thank you. I really appreciate that. You can come home now. The Asian boy
will come to you soon after you get there" that last sentence made my heart
skip a beat. I had hoped for that. But with a little luck my Asian boy was
coming home with me right now.



Next chapter coming up. Hopefully sooner then the last one. Feedback? Mail
me at rock_on_summer@yahoo.com