Rebecca Ch. 07

"It sounds like you'd be better off switching sides."

"I still might get a chance to purify myself."

"Then why not just kill me?"

"Because I'm too weak; I can't resist your temptation."

I press my lips against his and his mouth opens. Our tongues wrestle together as my desire for Garth builds, but I know the injuries I have inflicted upon him will prevent me from being satisfied.

Our lips part; peace is on my lover's face. At this moment he bears me no animus.

"Is that how I tempt you?"

He nods in the affirmative.

"It wouldn't be the same if I were an Aryan like you, would it? You like it when a woman's out of line like I am all the time, and you like being out of line yourself, don't you?"

"Maybe."

"If there was someone who was part black or Jewish, and they were pretending to be an Aryan, and they weren't out of line or a spy, and you found out, you wouldn't turn them in, would you?"

"I ain't no goddamn snitch."

"If you were just some goddamn Nazi who liked fucking anything with a pussy, I would have killed you, but you're different. You're not one of those fucking cowards who'll shoot someone and then say they were just obeying orders. If you kill someone, it'll be because you thought they really needed killing. And if they hang you for it, you'll take your punishment like a man."

"Damn right!"

"I'm pretty fucked up for not knocking you out and calling the cops, but I'm no snitch either."

"You said you got some dope?"

"Yeah. You want some?"

"I might as well try it before I purify myself."

"As you wish."

I arise from the bed and walk over to the closet where I have hidden my ex-boyfriend's stash. I can feel Garth's eyes on my body and it feels good to know how much he desires me. I pull out a clear plastic bag half full of tiny dark green fragments of what were once marijuana leaves and a box of rolling papers.

Garth's eyes do not leave my scantily clad body as I return to his side. I place one of the rolling papers on the nightstand and sprinkle a sufficient amount of pot in a line in the middle to make one joint. I roll it up, lick the edge to seal it, and place it between my lips as Garth regards the scene curiously. Realizing I have forgotten my lighter, I dart into the living room where I have left my purse.

"You're a naughty girl," Garth announces as I cross the threshold into the bedroom.

I strike a flame with the lighter and hold it to the end of the joint. I close my eyes and inhale, trapping the acrid marijuana smoke in my lungs. I remove the joint from my lips and hand it to Garth.

"Is there some kind of trick to this?" he asks.

I exhale vigorously and feeling lightheaded, fall onto the bed, landing on my tuchus next to Garth, who winces in pain as the bed shakes.

"Take a deep drag and hold it in your chest," I reply hoarsely.

Garth sucks on the joint and hands it back to me. His eyes bulge out as he struggles to keep the marijuana fumes in his lungs. He finally lets go and I have to move out of the way of a plume of pot smoke.

"How did you like it?" I inquire.

"All right, I guess," he replies, the phrase punctuated by coughs.

I take another drag from the joint. As I hold the smoke in my lungs, I feel a wave of relaxation. The loss of ninety grand fades into the background. Being raped and becoming the captive of a Nazi in lieu of going to Europe and entering the legal profession are but ancient history. I decide to disengage even farther from my problems.

"I'm going to get really ripped," I announce as I arise from the bed after handing the joint back to Garth..

I stride into the kitchen and retrieve a full bottle of scotch from the cabinet. From the refrigerator I extract what beer Garth did not consume while he made my acquaintance by raping me. On my way back to the bedroom I take a detour into the bathroom and retrieve the bottle of Percodan from the medicine cabinet.

Standing before Garth, I unscrew the cap from the Percodan bottle, dump two tablets into my hand, and toss them into my mouth. He takes another drag from the joint as I twist the cap off the bottle of scotch and pour some into my mouth, and then gulp down the liquor and narcotic. I again dodge a stream of pot smoke as Garth looks at me incredulously.

"Can't you die from mixing shit like that?" he asks.

"That would solve a heck of a lot of your problems, wouldn't it? So shouldn't you be happy?" I retort before downing another swig of scotch and then throw him a can of beer.

He hands the joint back to me and flips open the lid of the beer can. He takes a sip and then belches loudly. I take a drag on the joint. My tolerance for these substances is low and I stagger to the bed and plop down next to Garth. Now under the influence of the narcotic, he doesn't wince.

"I didn't say that I was through with you. So you do not have my permission to die."

I set the bottle of Percodan, the joint, and the bottle of scotch on the nightstand. I lean over and press my lips onto Garth's and force my tongue into his mouth. I place my hand on his crotch and rub him there roughly, but his organ doesn't respond. I sit up and regard him with a mock frown.

"If you call an escort service, I bet you they would send some gigolo over. Since I'm too fucked up to service you, it'll be on me."

"How about if he services you and I watch?" I counter.

"You watch your mouth, bitch."

I reach for the bottle of Percodan, but Garth wrestles it away from me. I raise the bottle of scotch to my mouth and only get a little before he seizes the bottle and places it on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. I grab his beer and begin pouring it down my throat, but I belch and spit half of what I drank all over myself. I run into the bathroom as Garth laughs.

"Gross!" I shout as I remove my g-string and turn on the shower.

Garth has followed me into the bathroom. He offers me the joint. I suck hard on it, kindling a flame inside and get a hit of pot smoke. I wrap my arms around my lover as I hold it in my chest.

I release him from my embrace and exhale into the bedroom. I cough and expel some more of the beer from my stomach into the commode.

"At least no one ever dies from smoking a joint. You better slow down. If you OD and die in here, someone might see me leave, and I'll be in deep shit."

I flush the toilet, turn to Garth, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"How can you still love me when I'm covered with vomit?"

"It don't matter. You've had a bad day."

"So you do love me! You didn't deny it when I said you loved me!"

"I don't think it would hold up in court."

I wave my finger at him.

"Smart motherfucker you are! It must be my Jewish influence."

I open the bathroom window. Behind the apartment building are houses, mostly occupied by Jews.

"Rebecca Milstein has corrupted a member of the Aryan master race!" I shout.

Garth cups his hand over my mouth and drags me away from the window. I free myself from his grasp and sink my teeth into his arm. He raises his arm to backhand me across the face and I cringe, but he holds back.

"Get into the shower!" he commands.

I raise my arm in the Nazi salute and shout mockingly, "Heil Hitler!"

He again gets ready to backhand me across the face but holds back. He instead places my arms into the steel grip of his hands and turns my body toward the bathtub.

"Get in there! Now!" he demands.

"Don't you mean schnell? Say it, schnell, like your forcing some Jew into a gas chamber!"

I expect a slap on the face, but instead I feel the sting of his palm on the cheek of my right buttock. Tears stream down my face, but not due to pain or even humiliation. I am crying because he has reduced me to a child.

"My kind went out to fight Russian Bolsheviks, not to kill no women or kids! The Wehrmacht fought with honor. Now get in there and sober the fuck up!"

I obey his order immediately and turn to look at him, water washing over me, tears still streaming down my face, my left canine tooth sunk into my lower lip in frustration over having accepted my Aryan lover's dominance.

Garth strips off his clothes. I see that the right side of his chest is swollen and the skin faintly purple where I kicked him. I am glad that it will hurt him for weeks. When he is naked he joins me in the shower.

My tears stop when I feel his meaty hands kneading my shoulders. I raise my arms and place the palms of my hands against the tile of the bathroom wall as I succumb to my lover's entreaties.

He takes his hands away and a few seconds later I feel shampoo drizzling onto my scalp. His fingers then begin running through the strands of my hair, spreading the thick liquid soap through my mane. The tears of frustration are replaced by tears of joy as I enjoy being indulged by the man who swears he is my enemy.

To my chagrin, I begin to lubricate. I smile and cannot stop my tears. My body stiffens as Garth kneads my scalp.

"Oh Garth, I'm going to have an orgasm!" I cry out.

I turn around to face him and synch my lips to his. I rub my crotch against his organ, which despite the effects of the narcotic, the pot, the pain, and the alcohol, has become tumescent. I cannot resist the urge to suck it, so I kneel before him and engulf his cock with my lips.

He massages my scalp as I suck his dick. Before I can make him explode, he lifts me up by the arms, forcing me to expel him. He curls his forearms and my body ascends as if but a trifle to him. When our pelvises are opposed to one another, I wrap my legs around his hips and his rigid member sinks into my pussy.

My torso in his vise-like grasp, he moves me up and down like a toy as I remain impaled on his cock, making no attempt to escape the fire that he is stoking within me. My pelvic muscles contract and I break into a glorious orgasm as he explodes in my pussy.

I plant a soft kiss on his lips.

"Garth, that was wonderful. I'd do anything to hear the words 'I love you' roll off your tongue."

"Words don't mean shit."

"But a woman has to hear the right ones sometimes."

"I'm glad you ain't dead yet. Are those words good enough for you?"

"Coming from you, yes."

Garth puts me down and the hot water continues to rush over us. I lather up a washcloth and gently wash his cock.

"You don't gotta do that."

"I want to. He's been good to me. I like him."

"You're one silly broad."

"I want to take care of my man, even if he doesn't want to take care of me."

"I fed you and put a roof over your head."

"And pleasured me, your mortal enemy; by driving me to ecstasy you foiled all my evil schemes."

"Yeah. Right."

"When your people take over, you can offer me to all the top Nazis. I'll drive them wild with pleasure, more than they had ever been able to imagine. They'll have to let the Jews live for fear of pissing me off. And they'll pay you a fortune for letting them have me.

"But it will only be you that can satisfy me. So even if you're not the Fuehrer, you'll be the most powerful Nazi of all."

"I ain't gonna be no pimp."

"I'll do anything to win your love, even fuck the most loathsome people on the planet! What more can I do to make you say you love me?"

"Die and be reborn as an Aryan!"

"But your flaw is that you're drawn to what I am; a woman who lusts for you. You can't figure out why a man like you turns me on. If you killed me, not knowing what it was about you that attracted me would eat away at your soul. Your destiny is to be taken down by an untermensch!"

"If that's the case, so be it! At least I've kept you from breeding."

"And what if I produce our offspring? Will you kill it?"

"They'll never know their mother. And I know you'll never speak up. You'll just gloat silently that the master race has been corrupted."

"No child of mine is going to be taken away! If you make me pregnant, then I'm gone!"

"I'll hunt you down. No son or daughter of mine will be raised a Jew!"

I break out in laughter.

"That will be great-you, a fucking Nazi, hunting your Jewess and your half breed offspring to the ends of the earth, loins bursting as you remember the greatest fucks of your life, cursing me for abandoning you, and all the while figuring out how to keep your Nazi brethren from killing us!"

"If you want to live in the Reich, you'll have to learn to pass for an Aryan. That's all I can say."

"I'll never deny what I am. Someday you'll have to choose."

"So you think your pussy can turn me into a fucking Jew? It ain't gonna happen. No way, bitch."

"You don't like to be told what to do."

"No motherfucker does."

"I don't see you abandoning me. You may think you're keeping me around just to get laid, but deep down you know that isn't true, because any man who fucks a girl the way you do has got to have deep feelings for her.

"You don't like to be told what to do. So when your Nazi buddies find out about us, there's going to be a problem. And I think my pussy has a pretty good chance of winning."

The kiss he plants on my forehead surprises me.

"You like to hear me say 'fuck' and 'pussy', don't you?"

He answers by kissing my forehead again.

"Thanks for slapping some sense into me. I had no right to compare you to murderers."

He engulfs me with his arms and pulls me close to him. My heart pounds as I wait to him say, 'I love you.'

"You know, you're pretty cool."

Disappointed, I push away and break free of his embrace.

"Is that all I am-cool?"

"Yeah; what's wrong with that?"

"So I'm just your fuck buddy? I'm not worthy of your love?"

"Hey, you're my enemy. People on opposite sides don't love each other."

"So this crazy shit you believe in, that maybe a few thousand other people in this whole goddamn country espouse, is more important than you and me being happy?"

"Hey, I'm all right. It's not my fault that you're pissed off."

"You've turned my life completely upside down by kidnapping me, and I don't bitch about it, much less try to kill you, and you think sticking your uncircumcised cock into me is going to keep me happy until some blond bitch shows up to take my place?"

"You never complained about it before."

"You have no fucking idea how harsh you are by not admitting your feelings for me."

"Actions speak louder than words. That's all the more you're gonna get from me."

I step out of the shower. Tears are streaming down my face again. I have gone from being an avenging angel, to Florence Nightingale, to the lusty courtesan, and then to the spurned woman in the course of an afternoon. I wrap a towel on my head and sit naked in front of my bedroom window, staring out at my hometown, wondering how the stalemate I have reached with Garth can be broken.

I flop onto the bed and am quickly overcome by sleep. When I awaken, the October sun has set and the neighborhood below is illuminated by streetlights. The lights in the houses will stay lit all night, for it is shabbos, and all the good Jews by whom we are surrounded will neither wander their homes in darkness nor offend their Creator by producing an electrical spark, thereby kindling a fire, on the day of rest.

But I can imagine a mob of my tribesmen descending on the abomination sleeping in the recliner in the next room and lynching my Nazi lover, no matter how holy the day, their lust for vengeance against The Third Reich blinding them to tikkun olam, their obligation as Jews to remake the world.

But then I would be sad.