Date: Sun, 08 Apr 2007 23:35:16 -0400
From: Rogue Writer <roguewriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: Trust Comes Easy pt 4

TRUST COMES EASY part 4
By Rogue Writer

(FF, FFF, exhibitionism, non-consensual, toys, threesome, drugs, violence,
death, destruction of a high-grade printer)

AUTHOR NOTE: If you like this hilariously grim little tale, read some of my
other equally uninspired fiction:

After the Party
Daphne's New Life
How I Spent My Summer Vacation by Carol Hitchcock
A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad
Screwing My Ex

They came out in that order, and according to one reader, I got better as I
went along, so do yourself a favor and read them in that order to avoid
getting disappointed by my early lack of skills.  Please send feedback to
roguewriter@hotmail.com.

DISCLAIMER: Pay attention!  This story is fiction and not meant to do
anything more than entertain, don't read this stuff with any intention
other than having a good time, don't take life too seriously and don't swim
after you've just eaten.  Isn't it stupid that I have to write these
warnings in case someone goes out and does something bad because of what
they read in my story?  What's happened in our society to cause this?  I
know, I know, lawsuit-happy people and the lawyers who run commercials that
inspire them.  Now you have to put warning labels on everything.  And I
understand that some things need warning labels.  Hydrochloric acid -- big
warning label on that one.  With letters four feet tall.  But I don't need
a cup of coffee with a warning label that says it's hot.  I know it's hot.
I wanted it hot!  Well, not that hot.  I take it light, actually.


IV. When It All Comes Crashing Down

18.

Monday morning.  Both Maggie and Kaye had left for work, one with a secret
mission Amanda had given her, the other with no idea what was about to
happen.  Which left Amanda sitting alone in the apartment, basking in the
glow of her own brilliance by masturbating.  She sat naked on the couch and
stroked her breasts, squeezing her globes and pinching her nipples.  This
is what people with power do, she thought.  They orchestrate events.  Play
chess with living breathing people.  Make others do things against their
will because, unlike those with power, they have no choice.  Most of all,
people with power destroy their enemies, and Amanda considered Kaye an
enemy because she took someone as bright and focused as Maggie and turned
her into a house pet.  On Tuesday she'd leave a videotape as promised, but
it would be blank.  The real one would find it's way onto the Internet.

Amanda took a cube of ice from the glass of vodka on the table and sucked
off the alcohol, then brought it down to her right tit and let out a small
gasp as it touched her skin.  She ran it in circles around the areola,
slowly shortening the circumference until the harsh cold touched her
sensitive nipple.  Her hand took the cube away and then brought it back a
few times as she reveled in the sensation.  Finally she took the cube into
her left hand and played with the other nipple while her right hand moved
down between her legs, finding the moisture she knew would be there.
Amanda didn't need anyone else to give her what she needed.  Daddy had
always taught her to be self-reliant; it was one of his most important
lessons.

In the early days Daddy taught Amanda how to play chess.  It was essential,
he said, because life is like the chessboard, with pieces ranging in
importance and moves that changed every game.  Then Daddy would take her to
work and she'd follow him around the used car lot, watching him make deals
and decisions as he spoke to customers, employees, and people of influence.
Secretly manipulating some, directly aggressive with others, like he was
playing chess with real people.

He was so was intelligent and resourceful, so unlike Mother.  She spent her
time hosting benefits for various causes, trying to help people who were
too weak or stupid to do for themselves.  Daddy secretly called her 'The
Useless Twit', and once said the marriage was simply a consolidation of
family money.  It was a Smart Move, he said, because love only made people
stupid.  Many of these lessons had been passed down from his father and his
father's father before him, and Daddy wanted a son to keep the family
tradition.  But The Useless Twit had bore only a daughter, and after that
decided to adopt because 'there are already so many unwanted children in
this world'.  Intent on having his own blood be the receiver of the family
tradition, Daddy started teaching Amanda.

She was able to watch the lessons in action as Daddy's single car lot
expanded to several across the state, and soon he counted the governor,
successful entrepreneurs, and other people of power and privilege as his
close friends.  Daddy's money and influence gave him contracts to supply
vehicles to local towns, supported a senator into office, and even stopped
a highway from being built near a competitor.  His empire became so
powerful that when Amanda was seventeen and hit another car while drunk
driving, she was never arrested and the people she injured never sued.  No
record of the incident appears in any file anywhere.

By now Amanda had dropped the ice and had a finger in her pussy and her
thumb rubbing her clit.  Her other hand cupped her breast and brought it up
towards her mouth, sticking out her tongue to where it just touched the
nipple.  The double sensation drove her insane with lust, for there was no
one she enjoyed pleasuring more than herself.  She looked at the strap-on
sitting on the table and remembered yesterday, when she'd used it to help
her drive a wedge between Maggie and Kaye.  Or at least it would have if
Maggie didn't have such a stubborn, idiotic devotion to her girlfriend.
Amanda pulled her hand from her cunt and grabbed the toy, quickly removed
the plastic phallus from the harness and gave it a cursory lube job with
her mouth before she brought it between her legs and slowly pushed it
inside.  A moan emitted from her mouth as she felt it fill her up, and
moments later she began to pump it in and out, slowly at first, while the
other hand rubbed her clit in unison.  Quick thinking and a compromise had
saved her plan to take Maggie with her.  Amanda may have perfected her
timing while pulling cons in South America, but the groundwork always lay
in Daddy's lessons.

Amanda had applied those lessons early in life.  In the sixth grade she
used false rumors to start a spat between two friends, thus helping her get
into the most popular clique around.  In high school she seduced teachers,
both male and female, to boost her grades in subjects where she was getting
anything less than an A-.  And once, right before field hockey tryouts,
Amanda slipped regular milk into the drink of her rival, who was lactose
intolerant.  It wasn't that Amanda didn't work hard for these things; she
always gave one hundred and twenty percent to any goal she set.  But, as
Daddy pointed out, sometimes your best isn't good enough, and in this
highly competitive world there are times when you need to create your own
luck.  That's where the lessons came in.

The final lesson Amanda learned happened when she went to visit her father
just after college graduation.  By then the Useless Twit had left him
because of not one but two paternity suits from mistresses.  Then there was
the Federal investigation into corruption, causing all his influential
friends to avoid him.  He had nothing but a lawyer on his side when the
divorce and paternity suits went to court, and that didn't go well at all.
Daddy's empire had collapsed.  He was financially strapped and in a week he
had to report to jail.

They played chess in silence for a while, until he beat her using a knight
he had put into a corner early in the game.  Daddy explained this would
serve as the final lesson for Amanda, and the lesson was to keep an eye on
all the players still on the board.  Once again he used a real life example
to illustrate -- he'd found out that a third mistress put the authorities
on his tail when he dumped her a year earlier.  She was a piece he had
ignored, and she was the one that sent him into checkmate.

When Amanda went to bed her father was still in his office and it's where
she found him the next morning, hanging from one of the rafters by a piece
of cord.  Pinned to his tie was a small note.  Amanda walked up to her
father and read it.

A person of power decides when his own life comes to an end.

Amanda cried.  It wasn't out of hurt, but of pride and admiration.  Her
father had kept his power by not letting others decide how he'd live the
rest of his life.

She rocked back and forth on the couch now, riding her orgasm like an out
of control bull, letting it ripple through her body until she collapsed
sweaty and out of breath.  And suddenly she was crying.  She hadn't lived
up to Daddy's expectations.  She had become a disappointment.  She had no
power, at least not yet.  Amanda gained control of herself and wiped away
her tears.  "Soon Daddy," she said as she looked up at the Rembrandt.
"Soon."


19.

Monday morning I drove to work in a daze.  I was going to kill Amanda;
there were no more doubts about that now.  Aside from what she had done to
Kaye, Amanda thought she could force me to leave with her, to live the rest
of my life as her plaything.  And that just wasn't going to happen.  But I
was faced with the same problem I had when the idea first came to me --
what was I going to do with her body?  And I still wasn't even sure how to
kill her in the first place.  It had to be in a way where she couldn't
overpower me and I wouldn't freak out in the middle of the act.  Not to
mention I had to figure this out by tomorrow morning.  The more I thought
about all of it the more panic crept through my body, causing numbness in
some parts and pain in others.

I barely remember stopping for coffee, and it tasted metallic and bitter
when I drank it.  As I drove I looked at people in other cars, walking the
streets, going about their business just like it was another day.  No more
of those for me.  It felt like a million years since Friday, when I was
blasting my stereo and screaming out the window in joy.  When I saw a sign
for the highway on-ramp I felt a sudden urge to get on it and keep driving.
Right out of the state.  Leave all this bullshit behind and find someplace
to start over, like I did so many years ago.

But that was just a passing fantasy of nervous frustration.  I could never
leave Kaye behind, even though she might leave me when this was all over.
Besides, running was Amanda's way, not mine.

When I got to work there was a project meeting, and some people from the
sales team were present.  The sales department drops in occasionally to see
if we geeks in R&D have overlooked the marketing potential of what we
considerer a failure.  Dick, my boss, started the meeting, but I barely
paid attention to the proceedings since I might not be there the next day.
If I didn't find a good way to kill Amanda, I'd have to leave with her to
protect Kaye.  If I didn't dispose of her body properly, I'd be in jail.
And if by some miracle I succeeded in pulling it all off, I was going to
call in sick.

"Potassium cyanide, right?" Dick asked.

Oh shit, he was talking to me.  "What?"

He sighed.  "That's what you used.  Could you explain why for our
visitors?"

"Oh, sure.  I used potassium cyanide because..." My eyes went wide and my
jaw went slack, and then I was silent for a while.  I'm not sure for how
long, but it was long enough for everyone to look at me like I was doing
something interesting.  But I had no idea they were there, no idea I was
staring off into space.  Because for the first time in a while, the
proverbial light bulb sparked to life over my head.  "It's...lethal."

Everyone stared at me like I'd just farted.  Dick threw his hands in the
air.  "Not my first choice, but yes, it can be if ingested.  Which is why
we use warning labels on our products."

The lead sales guy said, "Good to hear.  Someone write that down, please."

The room busted out in laughter.  That shook me out of my trance and I
waved it off.  "Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night."

Dick looked at me.  "Care to take another shot?"

I went on to give the real explanation so the sales people didn't think I
was trying to kill the customers.  When I finished someone asked a question
and I answered it and then the focus shifted to someone else.  That's the
last I remember of the meeting, because suddenly I knew how I was going to
kill Amanda, and how I was going to dispose of the body.  I even realized
how I could get rid of her stuff, which I hadn't even thought of.  All of a
sudden I had a plan, one that made me feel like I could have my cake and
eat it too.

Part of the plan still involved leaving my job, and by two o'clock I was
driving away from that place for the last time.  I'd quit before lunch, and
it was as uncomfortable as expected.  But I was surprised to find that
within my fake reasons for leaving there was plenty of truth -- I was
overworked, underpaid, treated like a monkey despite showing good
leadership skills, and thanks to office politics my chances for a promotion
were slim.  No matter how the next morning worked out I'd be better off
with a different gig.

But it wasn't all roses.  Part of my plan involved doing something that I
felt like shit about before, during, and after I did it.  I'd timed
quitting and packing my stuff so that I could do it in the middle of lunch,
and when I walked into the storage lab Maya was at her desk like I knew
she'd be.  She was a thin Hispanic girl around my age, with long curly
black hair and some nice curve to her.  I usually spent my lunch hour with
Maya because she was the assistant to a jerk named Frank, who usually went
out for lunch.  Many suspected he spent the time with another employee who
was not his wife.  Since the storage lab had to be manned at all times,
this left Maya to spend lunches like she was now, at her desk.

"Hey," she said when she saw me.  "What's with the box?"

"I quit."

Her eyes bugged out of their sockets.  "You're kidding?  Why?"

"Lots of reasons."  I stole a glance at the door.  "And I'm not looking to
get into them right now.  What I am looking to get into, before I leave
this place, is the storage room."

Maya's face broke out in a wide, and slightly nervous, smile.  "You
serious?"

I smiled and cocked an eyebrow.  Maya gave a quick glance to the door, and
then she pulled a huge ring of keys from inside her desk and practically
bounced to the door on the other side of the room.  I followed her, hoping
she didn't think it was funny that I brought my box with me.

When we were inside Maya brought the door to an inch of being shut.  "Just
in case someone comes," she said.  I put my box down and we just stood
there for a moment.  Surrounding us were shelves and refrigerators, all
holding chemicals, all locked in cages or with padlocked doors.  But that's
not why we were there; at least that's what Maya thought.  I stepped up to
her and kissed her lips lightly, and repeated that twice before I started
worrying that this wasn't working for her.  Maya is straight, but confessed
to me that she'd recently started thinking about trying it out with a
woman.  I told her I'd be willing to be her first, since Kaye and I
discussed having an open sexual relationship.  When I told Kaye it might
happen she approved, as long as I shared all the juicy details.  She even
suggested that if Maya liked it she could be our first threesome.  Maya had
confessed to me that her fantasy was to do it at work, in the storage
closet where she spent so much time.  That way when she was doing inventory
her memories of having sex there would break up the monotony of the work.

Suddenly Maya responded by kissing me back with more force than I expected.
It seemed an odd contrast, as I could smell her perfume, something lilac I
think, and feel her amazingly soft lips.  She put her arms around me and
pulled me tight to her.  I put my hands to her face and caressed her skin
as the kissing became more passionate and tongues got involved.  When her
hands grabbed my ass and roughly kneaded my cheeks, I remembered an
observation I'd made during my escort days about first-timers, and how some
of them handled me the way men had probably handled them.

I broke the kiss and separated our bodies.  Maya had a questioning look on
her face, at least until I started to unbutton her blouse.  At first she
smiled, then our eyes locked and her face changed to a look of primal lust
that made me forget my real intentions here.  As I pulled her blouse open I
went in for another kiss and rubbed my hands over her bra-clad breasts.
Then I pulled away again as I slipped her blouse off and continued to
massage her tits.  Maya reached back and unclasped her bra, my fingers
pinched the cups and pulled them away as she dropped the straps off her
shoulders.  Her globes were perfectly rounded, with dark brown areolas that
I reached out and caressed as I went in for another kiss.  Maya's tongue
invaded my mouth this time, and her passion for the moment was almost
physical in the moan she made in my mouth.  I pulled away and kissed down
her neck, licked her upper chest and then settled on her right nipple.  It
hardened in my mouth, and I gave it a nibble before opening wide and
sucking at her whole tit.

"Ohhhh, ohhh yes."

My mouth sucked more of her flesh and Maya put her hand to the back of my
head, pushing me further in.  I used my hand on her other breast, pinching
and pulling at the nipple, caressing the underside of the globe, and just
doing whatever I could to turn her on.  Then I pulled my mouth away from
her right tit and went to suck on the left.  At the same I brought my hands
down to her legs and pulled up her dress until I could get my hands on her
legs.  She backed away and I kept with her as we awkwardly moved until her
back was against a wall.  I moved my hands along the bare skin of her legs,
moving up slowly as I got to the flair of her hips, finally bringing them
together on the triangle of material that covered her mound.

I gave her nipple one last lick as I straightened up and brought our mouths
together again.  Maya's hands started caressing my breasts through my top,
and it took a little effort on my part to break the kiss and say, "You
ready for this?"

There was a desperate look on her face as she nodded vigorously.  I got to
my knees and before I could pull up her skirt Maya unclasped the side and
it dropped to the floor, revealing a pair of blue G-string panties.

"Uh huh," I said as I looked up at her.  "Somebody likes feeling naughty at
work."

Maya giggled.  I rubbed my hands around her hips and down her legs and back
up to her crotch.  She cooed, and then let out a sigh.  Leaning in, I
kissed the fabric a few times, then grabbed it and slid it off slowly.  She
was practically shaved; there was only an artfully crafted wisp of hair on
her mound.  I kissed it, then gave it a few long, slow licks before I used
my thumbs to open her flower.  Maya spread her legs apart to give me better
access, and I put my lips to her sensitive flesh and kissed and sucked at
it.

"Oh!  Dios Mio!" she cried.

I brought my hand up between her legs and ran my fingers along her wet
slit.  Maya jumped a little at the sensation.  While my fingers got good
and covered I licked and probed with my tongue, and when her clit showed
itself I sucked on it like a little Popsicle.  Maya cried out, and that's
when I slowly moved one finger inside of her.  Her back pressed against the
wall harder as I started fucking her, soon adding a second finger.

"More!" she cried.  I complied and sent a third finger in.  Maya started
rocking so hard against my fingers that it was hard to keep my mouth on
her.  Eventually she slowed down and that's when I sucked hard on her clit
while pressing my fingers up inside of her.  And that's when she squirted
on me, gushing her juice all over my hand.

"Oh!" she said as she tried to catch her breath.  "Sorry, I didn't warn
you.  I do that."

Suddenly Frank's voice called from the outer room.  "Maya?"

For the second time in twenty minutes, Maya's eyes bulged out of her skull.
"Fuck!" she said.  I put a false look of surprise on my face, since this is
what I had been counting on.  Maya got her bra and blouse closed quickly,
pulled up her skirt and dashed to the door where she stopped to compose
herself quickly and walked out.  "Hey Frank, how was lunch?"

She did exactly what I hoped she would do.  In her panic she left the keys
behind.  I grabbed them and found the cage with the potassium cyanide,
unlocked it with the third key I tried and grabbed one of the small bottles
from the back.  Locking that cage up I moved to the one with hydrochloric
acid.  My hands fumbled with the keys because of Maya squirting, her juice
still covered my hand.  I kept stopping to wipe it off.  I also tried five
keys with no luck.  Footsteps started towards the door, followed by Frank's
voice.  "Did you get the folic acid out of storage?"

I dashed to the door, standing behind where it would open.

"Yes, it's over here."

Footsteps walked away and I ran back to my task.  Three more keys with no
luck, only two left.

"I'm going up to Greg's office," Frank said, "I'll be back in twenty."

Maya would be in here as soon as he left.  I tried the second to last with
no luck, figures it was the last key I'd try.  I got the door open just as
I heard the click of Maya's heels towards the door.  It swung open.

"Maggie?" Maya said.

I appeared from behind the door.  "He's gone?"

"Yes.  Come on."  Maya turned.

I grabbed my box, hoping she wouldn't notice my stuff was piled higher
thanks to the large bottle of hydrochloric acid underneath it all.

On the way home I made three stops.  One was a hardware store where I
grabbed the rest of what I needed: a paper painter's mask and several pairs
of thick rubber gloves, a hammer and chisel, a pair of goggles and a bucket
with a lid.  The gross part was no longer the killing; it was going to be
the cleanup.  The second stop was the park where Kaye and I first said we
loved each other.  We said it at the edge of the lake that sits in the
middle of the park, and I stood at the same spot with the box that held the
wedding rings.  Before Friday the thought of those rings brought me joy,
but now they're only a reminder that our relationship will never be the
same again.  I brought back my arm to throw the box in the lake.

"Hey!  Stop!"

I turned.  It was a cop.

"Unless that's a rock, it better still be in your hand when you walk out of
the park!"

Fucker.  I had a mind to flip him off, but getting arrested wasn't a good
idea right now.  As I got back to the car, I realized I haven't done
anything right lately, even getting rid of a small, stupid box.  I'm a fuck
up of the highest order.  I'll probably screw up tomorrow too.  That
thinking started to weaken my resolve about going through with it, and I
knew I couldn't go home like that.  So I ended up in a bar called Bill's, a
place I'd never been to before.

I sat at the bar and kept ordering drinks.  As each one came I held the
faint but desperate hope that it would numb me to the point where my
current situation didn't look so bad.  But at the bottom of each glass was
the reminder that my luck had run out.  There was no other explanation.
Too many bad things happened at once, and only the total absence of luck
could be the cause.  For many years I'd considered myself lucky -- that I
had enough brains to stay in school, that I had enough sense to stay alive
if it meant dumpster diving behind restaurants for food in Utah or staying
away from heroin when I felt so down on myself in New York, that I'd
managed to start my life over again without telling everyone what it used
to be.  It always felt like I was just lucky enough to get what I needed.
And now I stood to lose it all, because 'lucky' wasn't good enough anymore.

The bartender came up to me with my latest glass of hope.  She was in her
late forties or early fifties, with enough grays coming through her red
hair to signal it was time for a new dye job.  She placed the drink in
front of me and smiled.  "You've been putting 'em down sweetheart.  Not
that I mind since you tip well, I just don't want to see you tip over."

"If I do, just sweep me under the rug."

She chuckled.  "Let me take a wild guess.  Man trouble?"

"Female trouble."

Her smile softened.  "Are we talking the female friend trouble, or..."

"Or, dot dot dot."

Her cackled laugh sounded like she'd smoked since she was born.  "Well, at
least you still have a sense of humor.  That's important.  Keeps the noose
from looking so good."

A customer signaled her from the other end of the bar.  "Be right back."
When she walked away I was face to face with my reflection in the mirror
behind the bar.  It seemed like a long time before she came back and said,
"I don't know much about same sex relationships sweetie.  Hell, I don't
know much about men either.  Don't get me wrong, they're simple creatures,
I've known that since my first boyfriend in high school, but then again I'm
on my third husband, so what does that tell you?"

"That we're all fucked."

"Whew, we're just a pair of optimists, aren't we?"

I managed a chuckle.

"So tell me about it," she said.

"You don't want to hear it.  It's too much and too weird."

"Honey, I've been behind a bar since I was seventeen.  Too much or too
weird is a challenge for you, not me."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."  And then I laid it all out for
her, everything that happened from age fifteen on.  It took a little while,
but luckily the bar was slow.  I left out the part where I was planning on
killing Amanda, admitting to a future felony seemed like a bad idea at the
time.  It was probably a bad idea any other time as well.  I just told her
that Amanda had left and Kaye was still angry, which is what I figured
tomorrow would be like.

When I finished the bartender sighed and said, "That's a bummer."

"Worst part of it is she has every right to be mad.  I mean if this was
some fight like I've had with other girlfriends, where we both lose our
tempers and both act badly, it's both our faults.  But I screwed this up
all by myself.  And she has all the right in the world to hate me."

"For right now, yeah, sure," she said.  "But if she still hates you a
couple days from now, she's not as special as you think."

"How you figure that?"

"Look, I understand her getting mad about how you lied about your past.
It's an instant, emotional reaction.  But if even half of what you told me
is for real, and by the way you didn't just meet the challenge, you reset
the bar, then when she calms down she'll understand why you weren't crazy
about telling the truth.  If she's worth anything, that is."

When she put the check down I saw that it wasn't half of what I knew it
should be.  Before I could protest she said, "Bartenders prerogative.  And
before you get all 'don't want to be anyone's charity' on me, the last
bunch of drinks was mostly mixer.  Didn't want you dying of alcohol
poisoning before you had a chance to make up with her."

I smiled.  "Thanks."

"Besides, you'd never fit under that rug."


20.

When I got home I left everything in the car except the potassium cyanide,
which was small enough to fit in my purse.  The rest I could come out for
tomorrow after Amanda was dead.

When I got upstairs Amanda was on the computer.  "Are you now gainfully
unemployed?" she asked.  I nodded.  She got up and walked over.  "Good.  We
fly out at twelve forty five tomorrow."

Then Amanda pulled me to her, wrapping her left arm tight across my
shoulder blades and her right arm above it, bent at the elbow so it pushed
my head towards hers.  She kissed me, and reluctantly I kissed her back.
When it ended she looked me in the eyes, our foreheads touching.  I tried
to look away but she tilted her head left and then right, chasing me with
her gaze.  Finally I stopped running and looked at her.

"It'll be just you and me," she said.  "Like it used to be."

My breathing was going so fast it felt like I'd just finished running a
marathon.  I could feel the air traveling to my lungs, where it seemed to
do nothing except keep me alive.  There was no taste in it anymore, no joy.
My heart felt cold and hollow in my chest.  Part of me said to cozy up to
her, to make her feel comfortable.  The other part of me knew that was the
wrong move.  My eyes narrowed and in a voice I barely recognized, I said,
"The only reason I'm going with you is because you threatened to kill her.
Don't forget that.  Not for one second."

Amanda just stared back at me for a moment.  Suddenly she grabbed me by my
ears and forced me back until my head slammed into the wall.  I cried out,
more in shock than in pain.  Her gaze held steady into my now wide and
frightened eyes.  "You loved me once," Amanda said, "you can learn to do it
again."

She let go and walked away.  I stayed against the wall, fighting back tears
and fear.  Tomorrow, I thought.

When Kaye came home she remembered that she was supposed to meet Lucy and
some others for a drink.  I offered to join her, but Kaye said she'd rather
go alone.  Yeah, I've got nothing to worry about.  Before Kaye left Amanda
reminded her, "I still have the tape, and your career, in my hands."  I
wasn't looking to be left alone with Amanda, so I told her I needed to
practice on my violin, since I hadn't done it since last Thursday.  I
usually practice on the roof because it annoys the neighbors when I do it
in the apartment.  Just as I was about to walk out she said, "Here," and
tossed something on the floor in front of me.  It was the folder with the
story by Carol Hitchcock.  "In case you get tired of hearing yourself
play."

I picked it up.  "So where did you get this?"

Amanda smiled.  "Given to me by the author herself a few years back.  Met
her down in Rio.  I won't bore you with the details."

When I got to the roof the sun was just starting to set.  I tried playing,
but kept screwing up even the simplest notes.  Was tomorrow going to work?
And if it did, what exactly was I going to say to Kaye when she got home?
Would she believe Amanda just up and left?  Was Kaye going to do the same?
I stopped playing and put down the violin, unable to concentrate.  Instead
I sat and opened up the binder.  If Hitchcock is as good a writer as
everyone says maybe her piece could put my mind on other things.

"As Naked As A Tree" was a strange title.  It turned out to be an
autobiographical piece about when Hitchcock was a teenager and she took
walks in the woods behind the farm in Kentucky where she lived.  At first
she did them because she liked being out in nature, but soon it became more
about spending time alone with her imagination, and it also gave her time
to think about problems she was having, like telling her folks and her
friends that she liked other girls.  I could relate to that.  Then one
night she was watching a movie and there was a scene where a woman ran
naked through the woods.  Just watching it excited Carol.  So during her
next walk in the woods, she stopped at one point and took off all her
clothes.  That changed everything for her.  She looked at the trees around
her and realized they were as bare as she was.  She wrote:

"We were all naked in those woods, me and the trees.  I hugged one, my
naked body against the naked tree.  I marveled at how aged they were and
the fact that they survived being naked outside for so long, in the cold
and the heat, in the rain and the snow and the wind, and it made me realize
that life throws things at everyone.  You just have to adapt, grow some
thick bark and you can get through it."

After that, Carol only felt truly comfortable with herself when she was
walking through the woods naked.  It didn't just give her a sexual charge,
but one she felt down to the core of her being, like this was the one
moment she truly felt alive and not under anyone else's thumb.  So I
decided to take her advice.

I took off all my clothes.  Then I picked up my violin and started playing
a piece by Bach.  Standing there with the air and sun on my body I felt so
alive, so free.  I started swaying as I played, feeling the music moving
through me like it never had before.  And the sunset matched my mood with a
perfect golden sky.  When I finished the piece there was silence, but I
sensed someone behind me and turned.  It was Mike, the guy from the
apartment across the hall, and in his arms he held what looked like a large
computer printer.  I turned back to the sunset.

He walked up and stood beside me.  "It's beautiful."

"I was just thinking the same thing.  What's with the printer?"

"It's a long story."

We stood silent for a little, enjoying the sunset.  The hues of the sky
made it look like a painting or a picture rather than real life.  But I
knew no one could quite capture the scope of it or the colors, I'd tried
many times with my camera.  I stole a glance at Mike, the printer still in
his hands, his eyes fixated on the scene before him.  If my nudity had any
affect he didn't show it in the least.

Finally he said, "I'm going to drop this over the side.  You mind?"

"Just as long as you don't go chasing after it."

Half a smile cracked the side of his face.  "Would you help me make sure no
one is down there when I throw it?"

I nodded and Mike and I walked to the edge and I looked over.  It was the
side that faced the next building, so there was little reason for anyone to
be down there.  Mike brought the printer over his head.  It was big and
looked to be a high-grade job, and his skinny arms almost lost control of
it.  But then he steadied, and stood there waiting for my signal.

"Clear," I said.

He heaved the printer over the side and we both watched as it sailed
towards the ground.  The bulky machine turned over in the air once and then
smashed onto the pavement, the casing splitting open easily with the
eight-story drop and sending the guts of the thing flying in every
direction.

"Cool," I said.

"Yeah," Mike said.  For the first time in weeks there was a full smile on
his face.

We looked back up at the sunset.  The gold color started to turn red as the
sun started down over the hill in the distance.

Finally I said, "Kaye's probably going to leave me."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Because she doesn't trust me anymore."  I sighed.  "We fell in love so
quickly, and she trusted me so easily, but then one stupid thing happens
and it's like I can't get her to trust me that quickly again."

Suddenly Mike laughed out loud.  It scared me, mostly because he'd been so
subdued when he was with his wife and so depressed after she left.  Then he
looked at me in the eye for a while.  "That's the funny thing about trust,"
he said finally.  "It comes so easy.  Hell, most of us do it without
thinking.  We want to trust people.  We want to have something that
connects us, that way we're not so alone.  But it's so fragile too, because
when we're betrayed it scares us, reminds us of how alone we really are.
When trust is lost, it's not half as easy to get back as it was to gain it.
That's unfair and it sucks but that's reality."

I snorted.  "You're very wise today."

"Experience is a bitch.  My wife cheated on me."

I pursed my lips and hesitated asking him the natural next question.  It
didn't last long.  "Anyone you know?"

He shook his head.  "Did it with the guy who sold her that printer."  He
rubbed his hands on his face.  "I threw her out, but she keeps calling.
Says she wants us back together, keeps begging for another chance."

"You going to forgive her?"

"Don't know yet."  Then he shrugged and said, "Who am I kidding?  Yeah, I
am.  She says it was a huge mistake and I believe her.  Unless you're an
idiot you can usually tell about people.  She was under a lot of pressure,
from work, from her family, from me.  Said she walked into the store and
the salesman started hitting on her hard and she just went with it without
thinking.  Normally she's a very caring person; it's one of the reasons I
fell in love with her.  I don't think she did it maliciously.  Why exactly
are you naked?"

"It's a long..." I stopped and chuckled.  "Actually it's a short story.
Here, read it."  I handed him the binder.


21.

After the sunset I got dressed, went downstairs and sat on the front steps.
There were many ways tomorrow could play out, and I wanted to talk to Kaye
alone before that happened.  I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted to say,
there was no way I was going to tell her about my plan, but I felt the need
to speak with her before it went down.  As the time dragged on and I had
nothing to do but think, I realized that in some way I was saying goodbye
to Kaye, just in case.  If tomorrow went badly and I was forced to leave
with Amanda, or she discovered my plan and killed me, or if in her last
moments she managed to overpower me and...okay, that's enough thinking for
right now.

Just after nine the car pulled down the street and I watched Kaye do a
horrible job parallel parking it.  My nerves were doing handstands as she
walked across the street, and my mind blanked on what to say to her as she
walked up to the building.  Kaye stopped and stared down at me for a slow,
agonizing minute.  Then she sat down next to me and gave me a big hug.  It
took me off guard, and I slowly put my hands around her.

"I love you," she said.  "You know that, right?"

I felt a smile crawl across my face.  "It helps to be reminded now and
again."

We broke the hug and Kaye kept her face close to mine.  She exhaled and
that's when I smelled something.  "Have you been drinking?"

She gave me crooked grin.  "A little.  I, um, talked to Lucy."  Kaye moved
so she sat facing the street.

"You told her about—"

Kaye shook her head.  "No.  I was going to.  I wanted to tell her the whole
thing, get some outside advice.  But I realized laying this on someone
else..." Kaye sighed.  "So I just asked her what I really wanted to know
without telling her the details."

"What did you ask her?"

"That's not important."  Kaye looked at me.  Have I ever you about Da'mon
Warner?"

I thought for a second.  "No.  Is he one of your kids?"

"He was in the first class I ever taught."  Kaye leaned back against a
step.  "Da'mon didn't run with the gangs or deal drugs, and according to
school records he'd never caused any trouble.  I checked because he was
smart, really smart.  Got high marks on every homework assignment, aced
every test.  Funniest thing, you talked to him and he sounded as lost as
every other kid in the class, but when it came to schoolwork he was the
exception.  And I told him that one day."  Kaye smiled.  "After class.  I
said that if he kept his grades up I thought he had a real shot at going to
college.  And he looked at me like I just told him he could walk on the
moon."  Kaye's face practically lit up with the memory.  "I was happy for
him, but I was happy for me too.  I went into teaching to try and make a
difference."

I arched an eyebrow.  "And to prove your parents wrong about
underprivileged kids."

"Yeah, well, a little of that too.  With Da'mon I felt like all my dreams
were going to come true, you know?  First month on the job and I'm grooming
a kid for college."  When Kaye's smile slowly faded I knew this story
didn't end well.  "Three days later Da'mon doesn't show up for class.  At
lunchtime the principal calls me to his office and tells me Da'mon's in
jail, for stealing a car."

She was silent for a while, so I asked, "Did you ever find out why he did
it?"

Kaye nodded.  "I went and visited him in jail."  Then she looked at me, and
in her eyes was this vulnerability that I've rarely ever seen in her.  "You
know what he fucking tells me?  He said, 'I had to steal that car, Miss
Foster.  You told me I could go to college, and that takes serious coin.
So I figured I'd better start earning like everyone else.'"

My jaw dropped.  I realized that wasn't vulnerability in her eyes.  It was
guilt.  She took a breath and said, "It was my first lesson in how little I
understood about where these kids come from.  In their world, the only
people who earn good money are the ones who deal drugs, boost cars, run
numbers," she paused, "sell their bodies.  Other than that, you're just
working a low wage job, living somewhere around the poverty line."  Kaye
snorted.  "Me?  I grew up knowing I had options.  I could go to college.  I
could travel the world.  I could marry some trust fund kid and hang out at
the country club while a nanny raised my children."

I smiled.  "If you were straight."

She managed to smile back.  "I'm in Hypothetical Land here, let me run with
it."

"You can't blame yourself for how that kid was raised."

"Doesn't mean I'm not responsible.  I disrespected Da'mon and every one of
those kids by assuming they grew up like me.  I didn't even think to learn
anything about the environment they live in, and cut them some slack for
it."

"That's funny, because from what I understand you're running just shy of
Genghis Khan when it comes to discipline."

"There's a difference between making them behave and refusing to understand
why they don't think like I do."  Kaye looked straight at me.  "Every
morning before work, I stand outside of that school and remind myself that
I've led a privileged life.  Not everybody had parents like mine, who
drilled right and wrong into their heads, even a little too much."  She
sighed.  "And not everybody grew up with all the options I did.  It should
make a difference in how I treat them, because I can't help those kids
unless I understand how they think.  And I'm not going to do that unless I
remember not everyone has been as lucky as me."

Kaye put her hand to the side of my face.  "I do that for my kids every
day, but I didn't do it for the woman I love the one time she really needed
it."

Her arms went around me and she pulled me into a tight hug.  It took me a
moment to hug her back because earlier I thought we were practically
finished.  But feeling her body against mine made me realize that one of
the reasons I love her is because she makes me feel safe.

"Are you crying?" she said without breaking the hug.

"I think so," I croaked.  "Oh God, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd survive.  You did it long before you met me."

I broke the hug and looked at her, tears in my eyes.  "Yeah, but I had no
idea what I was missing."

Kaye wiped away my tears with her thumb.  A few minutes later we decided to
go back upstairs.  But when we got in the elevator Kaye hit the button for
the basement.

I said, "It's a little late for laundry."

Kaye just smiled.  When the door opened she walked out, and with a
frustrated sigh I followed her into the laundry room.  She turned on the
light and I could hear a machine going.  Someone had clothes in the dryer,
and Kaye looked at it and said, "Even better."

"What's even better?"

Kaye turned and stared at me.  Then she pulled her top off and threw it
aside, unhooked her bra and exposed her breasts.

I smiled, tore off my top and bra.  The last three days were like one big
argument, and this was the make-up sex.  It became a race to get naked as
Kaye got off her skirt and wedges and panties and I struggled out of my
boots and black jeans.  Going commando saved me some time, but she still
beat me.  So there we were, standing naked in the laundry room.  Kaye was
wearing a waist chain made of silver—

And suddenly she was all over me.  Her lips, her hands, even her leg curled
around mine.  Her tongue chased after mine with a fierce determination, her
hard nipples poked like blunt swords, and her pubic hair rubbed against my
naked mound sending little shocks through my nerve endings.  We were two
bare bodies enjoying the warmth of being against each other, surrounded by
a cool damp underground room that smelled like fabric softener.

There was the taste of stale booze in Kaye's mouth, but I knew more than
alcohol fueled her right now.  It was the perfect combination of love and
lust, a sweet spot between romance and sex that we found with each other.
Kaye pushed me back up against a wall as she groped my breast with one hand
and caressed my mound with the other.  I moaned when she left my lips and
kissed down my neck until she took a nipple into her mouth.  Then she bit
down lightly, followed by a soft sucking while a finger slid between my
lower lips, gliding back and forth on my wet, sticky folds.  She ignored
the other nipple and licked her way down my stomach as she got on her knees
before me.  Kaye put her face between my legs and stuck her nose into the
cleft of my mound, breathing deeply and taking in the sweet and bitter
smell.  I put my fingers in place and exposed my sex to her.  The first
lick was long and slow, and I groaned an "Oh, Pookie."

With that Kaye went to work.  Her tongue flicked and swirled, teased and
taunted, glided over and then dug in.  At one point she reached up with her
right hand and got to the breast she didn't lick, caressing the globe at
first and then pinching the nipple. I pressed my back against the wall
while emitting sounds that encouraged her.  Kaye slid a finger inside of me
and started pumping it in and out, soon adding a second one that got me
standing on my toes.  And then for a brief second my mind flashed back to
earlier today, remembering this was the exact position I had Maya in.  I
pushed the thought out of my head, put my hands on Kaye's and reminded
myself right now was not about Amanda or tomorrow.  I let myself float on
my feelings for my girlfriend.

Kaye hooked her teeth in my clit ring and pulled as her fingers did an
upstroke inside of me.  I let out a cry of pleasure and she did it twice
more before sucking my love button between her lips and triggering my
orgasm.  I almost toppled over her as I shook and screamed, but Kaye caught
me with her one free hand.  When her lips and fingers were out of my crotch
area I slumped against the wall and slid down until I was seated in front
of her.  Kaye was smiling at me and I put a hand against the side of her
face.

"That was incredible." I said between gasps.

Kaye pulled me to her and we hugged.  "Nothing like a little stress to add
to your sex life."

We sat there for nearly a minute hugging, until I pulled back and engaged
Kaye in a kiss.  It started out as a slow and sensitive lip lock, but
quickly developed into a hungry, passionate smooch that led us to more sex.
This time I took the initiative, getting on my knees while still kissing
and pushing Kaye onto the ground.  I broke the kiss and Kaye looked up at
me lovingly.  Suddenly I slapped her hard across the face.

"Ow!" she yelled, rubbing the side of her face.  "What the hell for?"

I froze, dumbfounded.  "I, uh, thought...you know, the whole forced to do
things during sex thing?"

With an annoyed look, she said, "Well getting beat up isn't one of them."

"Oh.  Shit.  Sorry.  If you could like, make a list, that would help."

When Kaye reached out and grabbed my head between her hands, I thought she
was angry.  Instead she smiled.  "Thanks for trying."  She pulled me closer
and we kissed, and I moved so I could kiss the side of her face I hit.
"That make it better?" I asked.

"Yes it did."  Kaye smiled.  "But I'm hurting elsewhere."

I laughed.  "Tell Mommy where else it hurts."

Kaye ran her hands up and down her body.  "Just kind of all over."

I leaned down and kissed her on her throat.  "There?" I asked.  With her
eyes closed Kaye nodded, so I started licking and then sucking on her neck.
When I did it a little too hard she cried, "Hey, it doesn't hurt that much
there!"  Kaye is always worried about getting hickeys where they can be
seen.  She didn't want her students picking on her.

I lay on top of her, straddling her left leg, and asked, "How about here?"
My left leg came to rest on her pussy and I could feel the wetness on my
skin.  Pressing my body against hers, our lips came together and showered
each other in affection.  I started grinding my leg into her sex, the
feeling of my skin against her most erogenous zone driving me like fuel.
She began to rise and meet my thrusts, causing our breasts to meet as well
and our nipples began to harden at the sensations.  Then Kaye brought her
leg up so it would rub against my pussy.  It didn't make perfect contact,
but complaining wasn't something for this moment.  Our faces separated and
stared at each other as we humped one another, our mouths agape and
emitting strangled sounds, totally oblivious to anything but ourselves.

When Kaye said, "I want your mouth down there," I kissed her briefly, then
pulled away and turned myself around so my face was at her pussy.  I also
straddled my legs over her head so we were in a sixty-nine.  Grinding each
other got us good and started; we were both wet and ready when the licking
began.  I slit my fingers into her easily, and Kaye's tongue met with no
resistance as it dipped into my slit.  My tongue circled, flicked, and
sucked on her hood, and Kaye matched my movements to try and make us come
together.  Except that while I was fingering her slit, she moisturized her
digits on my juice and ran them up my ass crack, centering on my rosebud.
Slowly circling the crinkled brown hole, Kaye kept playing with it until it
her finger slid inside.  I cooed at the feeling, that widening of my back
door.  She only moved in to the first knuckle, and then gently fucked me.
By now we were licking and sucking on each other's clits, and when Kaye
sucked hard on mine it sent me over the edge.

"Ohhhhhh!  My God!" I cried.

I took a few deep breaths and then continued to feast on Kaye.  She kept
working her finger in my ass, adding to my post orgasmic pleasure.  Within
minutes she joined me in that pleasure, and after we removed our fingers
from each other I rolled off of her.  We lay on the floor for a while,
breathing heavily and rubbing each other's legs.  Kaye's hand strayed down
and she tickled the bottom of my foot, I yelped and did the same back to
her.  We laughed and helped each other stand up.

"What the hell!"

It was the old man from upstairs.  He stood there with an empty laundry
basket.  We'd been so preoccupied with sex that we didn't notice the dryer
had finished, probably a while ago.  It was the second time that day I'd
been caught naked, once on top of the building and this time underneath it.
Kaye and I laughed as we hurriedly grabbed our clothes and ran out of
there.

We got dressed on the elevator ride upstairs.  "I was thinking," Kaye said.
"After this is over, when Amanda is gone, we should move to a new place."

I felt a lump building up in my throat.  Somehow I managed to swallow it
and say, "Another apartment?"

"Or another city.  Do something exciting like that."

"Are you really in the need for any more excitement after this weekend?"

Kaye smiled.  "I just thought we could start fresh.  You and me.  After all
this, starting over would be a good thing."

I nodded, knowing that after tomorrow I might not be there for her.  With
no feeling in my words I said, "Yeah.  That'd be good."  I looked up at her
and forced a smile.  Kaye smiled back and hugged me.  The skilled liar does
it again.  I suck.


22.

The next morning I got ready like I was going to work, as normal.  Kaye
usually leaves before I do, and when she came over to give me a kiss I gave
her a long, passionate one.  Our tongues intertwined and our arms encircled
and I held her as tight as I could without hurting her.  We broke the kiss
but stayed in the hug.

"Wow," she said.  "What was that for?"

I swallowed and tried not to sound nervous.  "For last night.  For being
you."  I reached up and pushed some hair out of her face.  "For being
wonderful."

Kaye smiled, and at that moment I realized that despite all I'd been
through so far in life, all the hardship and all the loss and all the pain,
nothing would ever hurt me more than losing her.  It felt like the greatest
and saddest moment of my whole life.

"I've got to go," Kaye said.  She kissed me again, opened the door, and
made quick eye contact with me before she closed it.

I continued to stare at the closed door as Amanda walked up behind me.
"We've got to get ready," she said, and I followed her to the bedroom where
she told me to pack a few things in a small bag.  She would buy me new
clothes, better clothes (i.e. clothes she liked) when we got to where we
were going.  I picked a few items, not taking it seriously since I knew we
wouldn't get very far.  Amanda sat on the bed and watched me, probably to
make sure I didn't leave any notes for Kaye.  As I finished up I saw
Mr. Pookie still on the bed.  I grabbed him and stuffed him in the bag.
Amanda might have gotten suspicious if I left him behind.

"I'm finished," I said solemnly, trying to act like I would if we were
about to leave.  Meanwhile I was trying not to show my fear about what was
really going to happen.  "I've got to eat something before we go.  I don't
fly well unless I eat."

"Take your time.  We're not leaving for a while."

That surprised me.  "Why not?"

"Less time at the airport.  Plastic surgery and fake documents aside, I
don't like taking chances."

So I went to the kitchen and made myself a bowl of cereal.  I also fixed a
glass of orange juice, took the bottle of potassium cyanide out of my
pocket and poured some in.  This was my plan.  Every morning Amanda had a
glass of orange juice.  Putting it in there would hide the almond smell.
After she was dead I'd strip her naked and drop her into the tub, and then
go downstairs and get the supplies out of the car.  The gloves, goggles and
painters mask would help protect me when I poured the hydrochloric acid on
her body, dissolving all her soft tissue and sending it down the drain.
Then I'd use the hammer and chisel to break apart the bones, put them in
the bucket and cover them with the lid.  Gather up her clothes and stuff
and take them to the drop off box for the homeless shelter down the street.
Go bury the bucket in the empty lot behind an abandoned building two towns
away.  Come home and throw up.

I brought the glass out to Amanda and set it in front of her, then sat in
the other chair and continued to eat my cereal.  She was working on her
computer, and she didn't look at the glass.  I didn't want to be obvious
and point it out, so I just kept eating.  Amanda shut down her computer and
packed it away with the rest of her stuff.  Then she got up and took the
Rembrandt print off the wall.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"My father gave this to me," she said.  "I gave it to you because I thought
you were like him, and me."  She took the print out of the frame and rolled
it up, then put it next to her bag.  "But I was wrong."

"Huh," I said.  "I think that's the greatest compliment you've ever given
me."  I finished my cereal and got up.  "Aren't you going to drink your
juice?" I asked.

"No.  It's all yours."

I felt a pain in the bottom of my stomach.  "Don't you drink one of these a
day?"

"Not when I fly.  Maybe you need to eat, but I can't have anything in my
stomach when I get on a plane."

And just like that my plan went to shit.

"Okay," I said, picked up the glass and headed to the kitchen.  Just as I
turned the corner I started bringing the glass to my lips like I was going
to drink it, in case she got suspicious.  As soon as I was out of sight I
lowered the glass and poured it down the sink, then ran the water and
washed out the glass in case I wasn't here when Kaye got home.  Which was
looking very likely.

Now what?  There was no way I could leave with her.  For a brief moment I
considered waiting until we got to wherever we were going, but that
involved being around unfamiliar territory and people.  Then I realized
that Amanda might have people she knows at our final destination, people
who will meet us at the airport, who are living where we're living.  Would
I have to kill them too?

No.  Now was the time and here was the place.  My mind started racing as my
eyes looked around the kitchen for a weapon.  It didn't take long for them
to settle on the knife set.  Back to my original plan.  I took a big one
out and reached behind me, slid the handle into the waistband of my jeans
so the blade was flat against the small of my back, covered it with my
T-shirt and reminded myself to be careful about how I moved.  Just as I
started walking out of the kitchen, Amanda turned the corner and I froze in
place.

"It's time," she said.

I nodded, and she dropped her bag by the door before walking me into the
bedroom to grab my bag.  Then she turned and I followed her out towards the
foyer.  My hand reached behind me.  Amanda took her jacket off the coat
rack, her back still to me.  I slid out the knife.  Amanda was putting on
her jacket and I came up behind her.  But I hesitated, and she turned
towards me.  I hid the knife behind my leg.

"Shit, the print."  She walked towards the living room to get the Rembrandt
print.  I put down my bag and followed her.  When she leaned down to pick
it up, I was right behind her.

It was now or never.  I raised the knife, but then fear gripped me, and I
hesitated again.  Amanda stood and turned.  She saw the knife.  I lunged,
swinging the knife down towards her chest.  It stopped inches from the
target.  Amanda's hand had a vice grip on my wrist, and I cried out as she
twisted it.  The knife clattered to the floor and she spun both of us
around, sending me flying into the foyer.  As soon as I hit the floor I
struggled to get up, but Amanda was right there and she shoved me hard
against the wall.  She gave a karate chop to my side and then landed a
punch to my lower back.  I slid to the floor.

Amanda walked away and I struggled to turn over.  I had thought of her
strength and reflexes as very animal-like, and now I knew her rage was that
of a serial killer.  By the time I rolled over she was coming back towards
me, and in her hand was the knife.

"This is the Maggie I used to know," she said with a smile on her face.
"The one with the fire.  Too bad you decided to use it like this."

Amanda kneeled and grabbed my shirt, pulling me towards her and pushing the
tip of the knife against my throat.  "You were so close Mags," she said.
"So close to living a very comfortable life.  Now you've shown me that you
can't be trusted.  And I can't risk that."  I winced as I felt a pain and
then a trickle of blood running down my neck.  "Any last words?" she asked.

I spit in her face.  She smiled.  "I'll take that as a no.  Well I've got
some last words to you.  Better luck in the afterlife."

Amanda was about to strike when suddenly the front door opened and Kaye
stepped in.  She wasn't supposed to be off work for hours, but since she
interrupted my murder I wasn't going to complain.  Kaye looked at us, me
lying on the floor beaten and Amanda holding a knife to my throat, and
without missing a beat she said, "Am I interrupting something important?"

The knife came away from my throat.  Amanda stood and smiled.  "Just irony
in action.  I wanted Maggie back, and I was threatening to kill you to do
it.  Then, she goes and tries to off me with this."  Amanda held up the
knife.  "That must make you feel real special."

Kaye smiled back.  "Actually, it does.  So do me a favor while I'm enjoying
this moment.  Get your shit and get the fuck out of my place."

Amanda laughed.  "Fine.  But say goodbye to your job bitch.

Kaye smiled.  "I already did."

Two jaws dropped.  "You quit?" I heard myself say.

"Yep," Kaye said.  She turned to Amanda.  "So you can leave now.  And I'd
be quick about it."

Amanda turned the knife towards Kaye.  "Why's that?"

Kaye looked at her watch.  "Because right about now Maggie's friend Lisa is
calling the cops.  They'll be here soon."

For the first time since she got here, Amanda looked stunned.  Then she ran
into the living room.  Kaye put down her bag and then came over to help me
stand up.  "We'll talk about this later."

Amanda came back with the print and said, "I need one more thing before I
go."

I said, "If it's a kiss, you can kiss my ass."

Amanda took a gun out of her jacket and pointed it towards us.  Suddenly I
knew what was in her lockbox.

"Okay," I said, "I take it back."

Amanda smiled, and said, "I want Mr. Pookie."

I felt my breath catch in my throat.  "What for?"

"That's my business."

I opened the bag and took out my doll.  Tears were welling up in my eyes.
"Why do you have to take him?"

"Just give him to me."

Sense completely left me at that point, and I said, "No!"

"Give him to me or I'll shoot you!"

Kaye turned to me.  "Just give it to her."

"I can't!" I yelled to Kaye, and then I turned to Amanda.  "Why are you
being so cruel?"

"Well first off, because I can, and second, because there's two million
dollars in there."

Startled, I looked at Mr. Pookie, then at Amanda.  "The money?"

Amanda shot a hole in the wall just above Kaye's head, making both of us
jump away.  She leveled the gun at Kaye.  "Give me the fucking doll or she
dies!"

With that I gained my sense back, along with quite a bit of shock, and I
held out Mr. Pookie.  Amanda snatched him from me, stepped back and put
Mr. Pookie in her bag.

"What's in there?" Kaye asked.  "Diamonds?  Gold?"

"Neither."

"Well you took a hell of a chance leaving it here."

Amanda zipped up her bag and stood up.  "I realized if they caught me with
the money I'd lose it.  The best bet was to turn it into something else and
leave it behind.  That way I could come back for it, or if they caught me
it would fund my legal defense.  I'd have a better team than O.J."

"And then you waited four years?" Kaye asked.

"I waited two years for the police interest to die down.  Then I had a
problem and got held up where I was living.  When that was over I had
trouble finding Maggie.  Never thought she'd move to fucking New Jersey."

She aimed the gun at us and cocked it.  Both Kaye and I tensed.  Amanda
said, "I have half a mind to kill you both right now."

Kaye grabbed my wrist.  Then her hand moved down and her fingers
intertwined with mine.

Suddenly Amanda un-cocked the gun and lowered it.  "But there's something
more fun in leaving you two alive to suffer together, or apart if you so
choose.  Knowing you were so close to this money and now you're left with
nothing but each other."

With that, Amanda went out the door.

We both stood there, frozen, half worried she'd come back.  Our hands were
still interlocked.  Finally I turned and said, "Kaye, I..."

"Quiet!"  Kaye looked like she was counting to herself.

"What --"

She held up her hand.  Then she nodded.  "Okay."  She ran out the front
door and I followed her.  At the end of the hall she went to the window.  I
looked out with her and we watched Amanda crossing the street three stories
down.  On the other side she stopped and looked back at the building.

Under her breath, Kaye said, "Come on, come on, come on..."

I wanted to ask, but didn't want her to yell at me again.  A few seconds
went by, and suddenly Amanda looked down the street.  Then she ran up the
block and turned the corner.  Two police cars with lights flashing pulled
in front of the building.  A big black cop stepped out of the first car and
walked up our steps.

"You really had Lisa call the cops?"

"No."  Kaye ran back to the apartment and I followed her.  The buzzer
sounded and Kaye hit the button, opening the downstairs door for the cop.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Kaye turned and slapped me hard on the face.

"What the—" I started, but Kaye stuck her finger in my face.

"Don't you ever, ever, ever plan a murder without me again, do you
understand?  We are soul mates, and that means we do everything together,
got it?"

I nodded.

"Good.  Now get your stuff together, we've got to get packing."

Kaye ran into the bedroom and pulled a suitcase out of the closet.  I
walked towards the bedroom, rubbing the side of my face.  "Kaye, what the—"
Then there was a knock at the door.  Kaye ran past me and opened it.

"Thanks for coming, Alex." she said to the cop.

"No problem.  How long you going to need us?"

Kaye winced.  "Three, maybe four hours.  That too much?"

Alex the Cop smiled.  "For you?  We'll be out there as long as you need."
Alex the Cop turned and left.

Kaye headed back into the bedroom and I followed her.  I said, "Okay, at
least tell me how you know Alex the Cop?"

"Father of one of my students.  His daughter stole some things and I called
him instead of the authorities.  With her record she'd have been facing
serious time, and afterwards he told me that if I ever needed anything to
call him.  Why aren't you packing?"

"Why am I packing?"

Kaye was throwing things into her suitcase haphazardly.  "Because we're
moving to Chicago.  You always said you liked Chicago, right?  I've never
been, but I trust your judgment.  So we're moving there."

I shook my head.  "How are we moving there?  We can't fit everything in our
car."

"Fuck!  Thank you, I almost forgot."  She pulled out her cell phone and
started dialing.  She waited and then said, "Yes, we're ready.  Thanks."
She hung up and looked at me.  "I have a moving truck waiting three blocks
away.  There are four movers and they're going to have us out of here in a
couple of hours, so get as much stuff as you can together."

I shrugged and rolled my eyes and dropped my butt on the bed.  "Jesus Kaye,
can I remind you we're both jobless now?  And you want us to move somewhere
where we don't know anyone!  This is going to cost a lot of money!  It's
money we don't have!"

She stopped what she was doing and went to her workbag, pulled out
something and tossed it at me.  I caught it.  It was Mr. Pookie.

Kaye smiled and said, "We've got two million dollars babe.  Now start
packing."


23.

Amanda had stopped crying an hour ago.  Sitting in a crappy motel room in
Sweden, she had finally done what she should have done in the first place.
What she really should have done in the first damn place.  But from the
moment those police cars showed up in front of Maggie and Kaye's apartment
she knew she was on a clock, and probably had an hour or less to get out of
the country before the cops and the Feds had the airports locked down.
Besides, she'd checked it twice over the weekend, still leaving it inside
Mr. Pookie in case she figured wrong about Maggie and Kaye and they called
the cops.

At the airport Amanda brought her bag on the plane as a carry-on.  No way
she was checking it and risking the news that they lost her bag when she
landed.  She went through the X-ray machine without a problem, since she'd
dumped the gun before getting to the airport.  On the plane she put the bag
in the compartment above her head and relaxed in the thought that she
finally had her power.  It was with her, and safe.  Inside Mr. Pookie.

They were three quarters through the flight and the only thing bothering
Amanda was the incessant chatter of the woman behind her, complaining over
and over about airport security measures and how strict they are now.  How
they make you take off your shoes and how unsanitary that is.  How they
make you take off your belt and risk your pants falling down in front of
everyone.  And how the X- ray machine always makes the dumbest things look
suspicious.  Suddenly Amanda's jaw dropped, her face went slack and she
felt the worst feeling in the pit of her stomach.  They hadn't stopped her
at the airport.  They X-rayed her bag and hadn't stopped her.  Meaning they
didn't see anything suspicious inside Mr.  Pookie.  Meaning it wasn't
there.

She wanted to grab her bag and go to the bathroom and check.  Maybe the
security agents on duty didn't see it as suspicious.  Maybe their attention
was taken away right as Mr. Pookie passed through.  But then the stewardess
announced they were about to land.  Amanda stayed in her seat.  She didn't
really want to check.  It was too horrible a thought.

By the time she landed she convinced herself that there was no way those
girls were smart enough to fool her, and to prove that to herself she
didn't check it at the airport.  Amanda took a cab to the cheapest motel
the driver knew, got into the room, and took it out.  And that sent her
into a rage.

Amanda threw things and cried and threw things again.  She sat on the bed
and bawled like a baby, wrapped herself in the thin comforter and wished
she was a little girl again, at home in the suburbs with her parents,
playing with her friends at a time and place where the world was safe and
fun and not this big nasty thing.  After an hour she sat up and thought,
pushing herself to face where she had gone wrong, the Stupid Move.  She had
planned to stay with them one night.  The next evening she would propose a
toast to her leaving, drug their drinks and leave before they woke up the
next day.

But then she felt it.  The power.  Being with Maggie again gave her that
feeling of power and she was hooked on it.  Even better was when Maggie
told Kaye the truth and Amanda had to think on her feet, using the
blackmail to control the two of them.  Then she was manipulating two
people, giving her an abundance of power, and overriding her sense of
better judgment.  Amanda chose to stay, even though she knew it was a
danger to her freedom, so she could bask in her favorite feeling.  That was
where she made her mistake.  That was her Stupid Move.  No, that was one of
the two.  The other one was Kaye.  Maggie didn't want to give up
Mr. Pookie, but Kaye ordered her girlfriend to give it up.  It wasn't just
what she said, but the way she said it.  Impatient, like she wanted Amanda
to take it, to get her out of there.

Kaye.  Amanda was so obsessed with getting Maggie, and only saw Kaye as an
obstacle.  Not as a threat.  Pay attention to all the pieces on the board.

Now she just had resolve, a certainty she had never felt before.  To do
something the Romans considered a choice of honor.  She'd used a shoe to
smash the mirror in the bathroom, and sitting in the tub with the warm
water up to her neck, Amanda watched the color change from clear to red.
She brought up her hand so her fingers and the glass shard broke the
surface of the water without her wrist coming up and spurting blood all
over.

Reflected in the glass, Amanda looked at her face one last time.  She
thought there would be tears, but she couldn't feel sorry for herself.  No,
that would be weak.  There was pride in that face, because this was her
choice, her decision, and that meant she had power.  Power meant she wasn't
weak.  For one last time, Amanda had the power.  Daddy would've been proud.


24.

Within four hours we were gone.

The movers were short stocky guys who only spoke Spanish, but they were the
fastest, toughest, hardest working people I've ever seen.  Kaye and I felt
like we were moving in slow motion next to them.  In four hours they helped
us pack and tape and load the truck.  Informing the building super we were
leaving was fun.  He said something about breaking the lease by not giving
notice and that he was going to have to keep the security deposit.  We
laughed in his face.

"After I quit I tried calling you at work," Kaye explained while we were
still packing.  "I was going to tell you to leave work and meet me outside
the building.  Then I was going to explain the plan so we could go upstairs
and send Amanda running."  Kaye stopped what she was doing and looked up at
me.  "When they told me you'd quit yesterday, I...honestly, I went out of
my fucking mind.  I had no idea what was going on and the whole drive home
I was scared that I'd get there and both of you would be gone."  Kaye
started choking up and her voice cracked.  "Or that I'd find you..."

She started crying.  I went over and hugged her.  "I wish you'd have told
me this plan last night."

"I just came up with it last night," Kaye said between sniffles.  "I wasn't
sure it could come together until I talked to Alex this morning, and the
moving company...I didn't want you to get your hopes up.  And just why
didn't you tell me about your plan, missy?"

Because I didn't want to involve you in a murder, I thought.  Because I
didn't want you to talk me out of it.  Because I didn't trust your better
judgment.  "Because I'm an idiot," I said.

Once the truck was loaded and gone we just had a few things left to put in
our car.  As we drove out Route 80 towards Pennsylvania, I held Mr. Pookie
in my hands.  The real Mr. Pookie.

"How?" I asked.

Kaye smiled.  "Planning.  You're so attached to this little guy, and a few
months ago I got worried that if one day he was lost or stolen you'd go to
pieces.  So I went on the Internet and found the company that sold him.
They'd changed the design a little bit, but I was able to alter it enough
and then wash and age the shit out of him to make a duplicate."

I smiled.  "So you were going to trick me for my own good, if you needed
to."

Kaye sighed.  "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it.  Sometimes lying isn't all bad
if it's done for the right purpose.  Moral of the story, blow it out your
ass."

I laughed.  In my other hand was the plastic container we dug out of
Mr. Pookie.  There were four small coins inside, none of which looked like
they were worth a chunk of two million dollars.  I held it up.  "And when
exactly did you figure out about this?"

Kaye smiled.  "I figured out Mr. Pookie last night, but I'd been suspicious
since Sunday.  I kept wondering, just why did she come back?  If it wasn't
for you, it had to be for something awfully important to risk getting
caught.  The only thing I could figure was the money.  So I started
thinking a bank account, or maybe it was buried somewhere.  But then why
stay with us?  That had to be the biggest risk of all."

I nodded.  "Unless it was with us.  With me."

"At first I thought of the Rembrandt print.  I pulled off the back, but it
looked like cheap paper.  Then it hit me.  There was no way Amanda could
count on you to keep something she gave you, especially after how it all
ended.  And that's when something Amanda said came back to me, something
that hit me wrong when she said it.  When she saw Mr. Pookie she said, "I
can't believe you still have him."  I've only been with you a fraction of
the time she was, and I damned well know that when you die you'll want
Mr. Pookie buried with you.  Of course she believed you'd still have him.
She counted on it."

I smiled.  Kaye looked at me.  "What?" she asked.

"You read way too many private detective novels."

Kaye laughed.

I said, "While you've got your Sherlock cap on, there's something I really
don't get.  Amanda was only there for the money, and it was right there in
her reach the whole time.  The longer she stayed, the riskier it was for
her.  So why'd she stay so long?"

Kaye looked at me, and her face had that soft, serene look it got when she
was about to tell me she loved me.  She reached over and stroked the side
of my face with her finger.  "She stayed," Kaye said, "for the same reason
I did."

I looked into her eyes and knew that I'd succeeded.  I'd gotten back what
I'd lost when I was fifteen.  Hell, I had more than that.  "There's
a...something else," I said.  "One last secret I've been keeping from you
that I think you should know about."

Kaye looked skeptical, and a little worried.  "Is this going to make me
mad?"

Reaching down into my bag, I pulled out the small box with the rings.  "I
really hope not."

The End.