Fantasy Pt. 06: Full House

Fantasy

By H. Jekyll

Part Six: Full House

We'll begin with the fact that our patsy Henry -- though maybe now a saint -- has gone to sleep with Alice. Without sex! Who would have expected that in this type of story? What could even come of it? I can tell you what happened later that night, that she woke twice screaming with nightmares, and that he held her and stroked her hair and spoke soothingly. Still no sex. I think I'd personally have had trouble not taking advantage. But give that idea up, at least for now. She began coughing again, too, and it got bad enough that they used the last of the cough medicine.

*****

What of Alice's medical conditions and Henry's aggravated assault problem? If he thought about it clearly enough, he'd realize he truly didn't want to be arrested, and Alice's medical issues were a pretty severe complication. He came to that conclusion soon enough. He might or might not have become St. Henry, but there were real considerations if law enforcement got involved. Alice frankly had nothing to wear to the ER, and he didn't think she could care for herself -- emotionally or physically -- while he was being arraigned. He was right, of course. Believe me. I'm the writer.

Some readers (so I am told) would say something along the lines of: "Well fuck her (not literally, I don't think, but who knows?). She brought it on herself." That's a serious moral argument and worth considering, but it wasn't Henry's moral argument, so Alice's condition had to be managed. Anyway, he lay awake for a very long while and thought, instead of sleeping. Meanwhile, after he'd calmed her twice Alice fell deeply in love with him. Or deeply back in love. Or whatever. No, you don't know where this is going, so don't get too far ahead of events. I personally wouldn't trust such sudden emotional changes as that, but they were real for her. Even she recognized there were problems, and at some point she thought to herself, "I can't ever tell Henry that." I might agree with her, and I wouldn't want this to turn into some kind of chick-lit romance story. So...we'll all just let that rest for a bit. Things will work out one way or another.

*****

Henry got up around eight and called Mickey Edwards. Alice was still asleep, and her breathing sounded worse. Mickey might still be asleep too -- at least in fiction PIs do a lot of work at night -- but he seemed the best place to start. His wife Maria picked up on the third ring.

"This is Henry Jekyll. I'm sorry to call so early, but can I speak with Mickey? It's about my wife Alice. We need some help. Pretty quickly."

"Oh, yeah. The Richard Moriarty case." Maria's knowledge shook Henry, though you and I know that spouses share a lot of information. "He's out on another case right now. I can get a message to him."

"Please tell him it's important, and that she needs medical care."

"Wait! Stop. Is this a medical emergency?"

"No. No. But we need some help."

Mickey called back within five minutes.

"Henry, before you say anything, I'm going to ask some questions and you just give me the gist. Don't say anything about anything you might or might not have done. Got it?"

"Okay."

"Is Alice seriously injured?"

"No. But wait, I can't be completely sure. I know she needs medical care."

"In what way does she need medical care?"

"She came to the house Thursday. I let her in yesterday. She's been hurt, gang raped for Christ's sake! And whipped. Her breathing is off. And she has a bad cough. It could be pneumonia."

"And for some unholy reason you haven't taken her to an ER yet?"

"Mickey, If it's possible we could ... oh shit ... we could use more privacy."

"Damn it. Damn it. Be straight with me, Henry. You know the drill. If it's a medical emergency, hang up and dial 9-1-1. Right now!"

"It's not an emergency. Trust me."

"Don't fuck around with this! You're absolutely certain it's not critical?"

"It's not. But she needs a doc."

"You're at home?"

"Yeah."

"And she's okay for right now?"

"Yes!"

"I'll call you back. And you better not be fucking with me or I'll have Metro on you so fast you won't see it coming!"

*****

Phone tag follows. A doc will make a house call. The visit will not be covered by insurance, and it will be expensive.

Henry: "Okay. How much?"

Mickey: "North of a thousand."

Henry: "Two? Five? Ten? Fifteen...?

Mickey: "Not over ten."

Henry: "Okay, I'll need to get it together."

Mickey: "It's covered. You'll get my bill. And I'll be over later, to check on Alice."

*****

"Alice? You need to wake up. A doctor's coming over." He touched her arm. "Alice?"

She stared up at him and for a moment looked around like she didn't recognize the place.

"What? You said a doctor?" Oh, my Henry! My Henry! My Henry!

Stop it! I said we weren't going there. Let's get back to the action. You! Alice! Control yourself! Your lack of control started all this mess in the first place. There, that should do it.

Henry brought Alice one of his long-sleeved, button-down shirts to replace the tee. She used to love lounging around the house in them.

"You'll be more presentable. Now you really need to eat something."

"I can't."

"You have to. Just a little. I've brought you some toast and juice."

"I can't."

"You have to. Just nibble. And I need your clothes sizes. Blouses, slacks, underwear, shoes, and bras."

"I don't understand." Alice nibbled on the toast.

"I'm getting some basic clothes. To tide you over until we can do a full clothes shop."

"I don't understand." But she was waking up.

*****

"Sherrie? It's Henry. I'm sorry to call on a Saturday morning, but we need some help."

"Um, did I just hear the word 'we'? Want to explain?"

"It's Alice and me."

"So...she's at your place?"

"Yes."

"You finally did let her in?"

"Yes, I did. But she's in bad shape and a doctor is coming over."

"What? Henry, did you do something to her?"

"Please, Sherrie. I'm not hurting her. There's a doc coming over. And she needs clothes."

"She needs....?"

"I threw out all her old stuff, and what she was wearing were rags. If you can do it...could you pick up some basic clothes? Just plain, everyday wear. I've got her sizes."

"Henry! What did you do to her?"

"Please Sherrie. You'll see her yourself if you come by. Can you do it?"

"Yes. But Paul is coming with me. And she better be okay!"

*****

Everyone thought Henry had hurt Alice. Which, of course, he had. Where would that take things?

Alice did manage to finish breakfast and change, but after she used the bathroom and cleaned up a little she lay back down. It sounded like her windpipe was closing down. She couldn't seem to clear her throat. Henry wanted to be close by in case she needed him, but he didn't know what to say to her. And frankly Alice didn't know what to say to him. Awkward! He offered her bacon and eggs to go with the toast, but she said -- you guessed it -- that she couldn't eat any more, so he brought her some more juice and a banana to nibble on.

Then he waited for the doctor.

Sherrie and Paul arrived first, much quicker than Henry had thought possible. She'd gotten all the things he'd ordered, plus a nightgown and a housecoat, some toiletries, things Henry hadn't thought of.

They barged in without knocking. Sherrie slammed the bags she was carrying onto the coffee table and turned to Henry.

"Where is she?" She was furious, and desperate.

"In the bedroom. This way."

"No! You and Paul stay out here. I'm going to talk to her. Alone!"

She went into the bedroom and closed the door. Henry and Paul sat to wait.

"What happened?" asked Paul.

"I don't think I can tell you." Or want to. "It's a privacy issue."

"You know Sherrie will tell me later."

"Then I guess you'll find out later."

*****

Sherrie came out and closed the bedroom door softly. She walked up to Henry and in a very quiet voice said, "Give me the belt you whipped her with."

"The belt."

"The belt. Give it to me."

Henry got the belt from an end-table drawer and handed it to her. Sherrie unlooped it, turned it over, looked it over, looked closely at some reddish stains on each end, and took it by the tip end. Then she took a half step forward, like a baseball pitcher, and slashed Henry across the chest with the buckle end.

*****

He stepped back and almost fell. St. Henry, control yourself. Deep breath. Trust me, I know what I'm telling you. You don't want to get out of control again. Breathe deeply. Deeply. That's better. Good. Good. Breathe. Maybe step back out of Sherrie's range.

Henry dropped his arms to his sides and was motionless. He finally spoke.

"I won't let you hit me again, Sherrie."

Paul was standing about half-way between them, just in case. He looked like he couldn't believe what he'd just seen.

She held the belt outward. "But it's perfectly fine for you to use it on Alice? Is that right?"

Still motionless. "No. It's not all right. Nothing about it was right. But I did it and I can't undo it."

"Why shouldn't I just turn you in?"

"Okay. Okay. I understand. Do what you have to do. If you'll take care of her while I'm under arrest, it's okay with me."

Sherrie thought it over. "First, you tell me your story. How did it happen? What's your 'excuse'?"

"There were reasons, but not excuses. I lost control. It won't happen again. Ever."

"And? That's it? A lot of abusers say that, but it happens anyway."

"Well, what do you want me to say? Didn't she tell you?"

"She says it was all her fault."

There was some silence. "Yeah. A lot of battered women say that."

"Are you saying that?"

"No. It wasn't all her fault. She played a role, but it wasn't her 'fault'."

"Then tell me. And be specific. From the beginning."

He told her. The leaving she knew about. Alice showing up she knew about. At this point she certainly knew about the whipping. She'd made Alice open the shirt to show her what Henry had done. The rest? Bits and pieces. She didn't know about Richard throwing Alice out. Nothing about the photos. Henry logged onto his laptop and brought up the photos, for show-and-tell. She wasn't shocked about most of them, the dog collar, the drinking wine off Alice's breasts, not even--too much--the photo of the fellatio. Paul found them all fascinating. But the last photo!

"That seems to be the start of a bukkake scene."

"What's bukkake?"

Henry looked at Paul, who looked back but didn't say anything.

"It's a form of porn. Originally Japanese. It has a woman...and a large number of men. They all masturbate on her."

She shook her head. "No. That's not real."

"It's real. Look at it."

She turned. "Paul?"

"It's real. Don't look at me like that. I know about it." Henry had a good idea what video sites Paul would be visiting later. So did Sherrie, though she didn't want to think about that too much.

Henry went on. "They come all over her, one or more at a time. Her body. Her head. Her mouth."

"No." A more detailed scene began to form in her mind.

"You wanted to know. They sometimes gather the ... runoff ... in a glass and she drinks..."

"No! Stop it!" Sherrie put a hand over her mouth and nose and turned away.

"I'm sorry. TMI. I don't know how far Alice's went. Richard sent me the single screen shot with the six men."

Sherrie thought "Six? Only six? Only? Six? In a single screen shot?" Paul made a face like he was saying "Ooohhh."

"A couple have already finished. I don't know how far it went, but it was real. And see where Richard...it had to be Richard...has written across her breasts, 'Henry! Wish you were here!' It's a little blurry."

*****

It was quiet again. Sherrie looked thoughtful. Paul look lustful. Henry looked forlorn.

Sherrie: "That's what made you lose control."

"No. There's one more thing."

"Still more?"

"Yeah." Henry wondered how to get through it. "After that I broke into Richard's house. I had a gun. Yeah. Well, they caught me. Then while his security guys held me, Richard told Alice to strip. In front of me. In front of everyone. Apparently in front of the camera, And she did it." He turned on the deep throat video. "Then he told her to fellate him. Which she did. Right here in the video. In the middle of it he had her turn it into a..." He looked for a term that would be clinical, not dirty, but he couldn't think of one. "... into a deep throat. In front of me. In front of us all. And she did it. And that's about it. That was right before he just threw her out. Oh, yeah, he sent me this video of it. Wrote 'Enjoy!' on the case.

"Anyway. Anyway," He paused and turned off the video. "When she came to the house wanting help, I..." Big sigh, Henry. Get it over with. "I lost it and decided I'd just punish her...forever. That's not an excuse. There's no excuse. She was helpless and alone. I understand if you think I should be arrested."

After a long moment, Sherrie rolled the belt up and placed it on the coffee table. "I'm so sorry, Henry." You'll seldom see such a dramatic change in attitude. She walked up to him and hugged him, the way you would hug a mourner at a visitation.

That was when the doctor and his nurse practitioner arrived.

*****

With equipment. They came in a polished minivan with the logo and name of their clinic on the side. No lights or siren. It wasn't an EMS van. There was nothing about it, particularly, to excite the neighbors, but it allowed for far more than a house call with a doctor's bag. You might wonder how often they would make such calls outside of clinic hours and off the insurance books. I have no idea, though I imagine they each got a nice payday out of it, even if this was their only call of the day. Even if? How often do people need such discrete services?

After greeting Henry and his visitors they wheeled some equipment into Alice's room and closed the door. The three sat quietly. At some point the NP went out to the van and brought in some more things.

Finally, Sherrie broke the silence.

"What made you stop?"

"What?"

She glanced at the bedroom door. "Stop beating Alice."

"She passed out. I went to get some things to tie her up with, so I could do it more...at my leisure, and it hit me. Just like that. Like scales falling from my eyes, I guess. I suddenly knew what I was doing, what was happening, and I had to stop it."

"You hated her. You were angry. You were hurt."

"Yeah. Until I wasn't. I didn't. But yes. Hurt. I still am, but that's my problem, isn't it?"

"And you decided to help her."

"I had to. I had done this."

"Even after what she did?"

"That's her problem. I know she wants forgiveness. I'm good with that. But I need forgiveness too."

"From whom?"

"What?"

"Not from Alice. She seems to think you're this big hero."

Henry smiled. It wasn't anything he'd expected to hear, and he couldn't help himself. He covered it with a little self-deprecation. "Well, they say they always love the abuser, don't they?"

"So, who else needs to forgive you? The state of Nevada?"

"No, certainly not them, not if it comes to their attention. But I still need it. From whom, you ask? From God? No, that's easy enough to get." He stared up at the ceiling and said "Sorry, Lord" sotto voce. "No. I need it from myself, and that isn't so easy, because I remember how fabulous and supercharged I felt, hurting her. I loved it. I absofuckingtively loved doing it. It was so sexy. Jesus, I could get addicted to it! I did it, and that's part of it. And I loved doing it. I think that's even worse. I don't know. Anyway, me, myself, and I. Okay?"

The NP went through the room again. While she was out, Sherrie said, "We're not turning you in, Henry. Right Paul?" Paul agreed with a grunt. "But I don't think it's a good idea for Alice to stay with you, not so close in time to...all that emotion."

"So, can she stay with you? She doesn't want to be alone. Last night she had to sleep with me because she kept having night terrors."

"You had sex?" It was Paul. Now he sounded interested.

"No! There's no sex. I held her. Damn it, I comforted her. There's not going to be any sex. Jesus! I'm trying to help her, not take advantage of her!"

They were doubtful. "You're sure you didn't do anything, give her any signals, make her think she owed you anything? Anything like that?" asked Sherrie.

"I'm sure. I held her. When she had an attack, I soothed her. That was it! I owed it to her. I helped her get through the night, and this morning I started doing the practical things that need getting done."

They wouldn't argue with him, but Sherrie, after a moment, focused on what I think you might consider the pachyderm in the center ring: "You love her."

The NP went through the room again.

*****

"No! I don't 'love' her. After what she did? I do care for her. And I owe her. And I need to earn forgiveness, as much as I ever can." He laughed. Maybe more of a snort. "Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. You can believe anything you want."

The NP came through the room carrying a pill bottle. It was quiet but the room was filled with thoughts. Sherrie thought, "He loves her, the poor guy. I'd have finished killing her." Henry thought, "I'm so pathetic." Paul thought, "I want to see her deep throating Moriarty again."

*****

Well, well, well. Are we in chick-lit, romance territory yet? They love each other. Neither knows that the other does, nor wants the other to know. It couldn't possibly work out, not with what has happened, not realistically, not even in the chick-lit romance world, I shouldn't think. Though I suppose in the movie the two could be played by Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan in their primes. Hanks plays nice, ordinary guys who do what needs to be done. I think he'd be more competent than Henry is. Ryan, though. Oh, she was hot in "In the Cut." Also, consider her fake orgasm scene in the deli in "When Harry Met Sally." O. M. G! Can you imagine her doing the deep-throat scene? I could play Richard Moriarty. It might work if they could figure an ending, maybe on the observation deck of the Empire State Building or something. Maybe they could even work in a killing of Richard, the founder of the feast (played by someone besides me). I know. Henry throws Richard over the railing. It being New York, nobody cares, or maybe there's a subway strike and no one notices the body in all the confusion. That might do it. Then Henry ties up Alice and does all kinds of things to her, and they live happily ever after.

Maybe not. I'm just taking a break here because, frankly, I could get a little choked. Yeah. So, I'm being snarky. But it wasn't at all snarky for the people involved. Except for, maybe, Paul.

Let's continue.

*****

Mickey came in, looking very tired and very upset.

"Where is she?"

"In the bedroom, with the doc and his assistant. Have you met Sherrie and Paul? They know what's going on. This is Mickey Edwards, my investigator. He arranged for the medical team. Sherrie's my office manager and--maybe--they'll be taking care of Alice for a few days."

"How is she?"

"She seems a little better. I think they're just about finished up."

Which they were.

The doctor and Mickey knew each other well. They barely nodded, then the doctor said, "There are three issues, and I want to address them in order. Who needs to leave the room?" He looked at Mickey. "Everyone's in? We're all one big, happy family?"

"It's all right, Bill." said Mickey. "Everyone knows the score."

So, he began. "She's a slightly undernourished, thirtyish, white woman, dehydrated, sun-burnt, sick, and suffering from physical and sexual assault.