tagRomanceRegaining Life for Caroline

Regaining Life for Caroline

byEgmont Grigor©

The super rich residents of an enclave out of Chicago gathered in fantastic-looking custom-made costumes for one of their occasional mixed social events of the year. The occasion was Halloween and most arrived poolside already boisterous, a polite way of saying drunk.

The perimeter electrified fences enclosing the enclave were 8-feet high and the fast-shutting entry-exit gate was triple-skinned titanium. Residents were not afraid of the world – they were simply afraid of people living within a couple of miles of their fence plus the occasional vagrant bent on shooting them with addictive drugs or the bird flu virus or drive-by thugs wanting to fill them with lead.

Residents were also afraid of three other things: Recession, the clap and children.

Children were forbidden to entry the compound, not even grandchildren wanting to visit their filthy-rich grandma. It was up to grandma to leave the security of Hammerhead Heights and to meet daughter and the kids at the mall.

The party that evening was just warming up – the women choosing the man they wished to have fuck them that night. Suddenly an astonishing arrival caused an uproar: A boy of about eight appeared in their midst shouting, "Trick-or-Treat."

Three of the most athletic male residents seized the boy and stripped him, finding no electrical burns to his body. Well, if he hadn't scaled the wall how did he achieve access?

The kid was tough; he buttoned his lips. Clara Wright called, "Let me handle this." The three captors stood aside and Clara, a female weightlifter of 40, lifted the kid up with ease and held him over the biggest Jack-o-lantern to initiate her interrogation while he was hung out to fry. Suddenly she shouted, "Oh God, I'm covered in crap, real crap. The kid's arrived here via the sewer."

The kid was bundled into a towel, given one sweet as his treat and taken to a sewer access hole where Clara found his gas mask and Jack-o-lantern.

"Know which way to go to return home?" she barked.

The kid nodded so she sent him on his way and placed ten bags of sand over the lid to eliminate that weakness in security until a lock was fitted.

By the time Clara returned poolside some of the couples were already entertaining themselves and others nearby with their copulating behavior. They looked set for a great night, with the cook-out underway under the watchful eye of Ivan Perkins, a professional chef. The copulating was being supervised by the community's only known prostitute, Felicity Hoare which she claimed was her real name, not her professional name.

Todd Trubuhovich worked on a radio station so was in charge of the music, including dance music and was considered an authority in that role despite being the broadcaster's company accountant. It was accepted that scarcely anyone liked any of the music he played but because the community worked in a very democratic way he had the voluntary job for life unless he and his wife's wealth as audited by the community's board of trustees fell below the minimum level for residency of $10,000,000.

Clara's role was internal security, lifter of heavy furniture and as she was celibate being in charge of pairing the women who fail to dock with a male partner at these special occasions. The women residents including Clara outnumber the men 55% to 45%. Whenever there was an odd woman out Clara would agree to administer the toys on her providing the recipient agreed it was hands off Clara and no insertion of toys into any of Clara's orifices, ear holes, nostrils or between toes or breasts.

To an outsider, it might seem very strange these adults should be expecting to have a great Halloween without children. The sight of their little darlings dressed up in scary-looking costumes, torches under their chins makes most parents glow with pride and they react ever so proudly when other parents compliment them for 'great get-ups your kids have." So how could these millionaires entertain themselves adequately, apart from the boring old routines of fucking someone's wife or being fucked by someone's husband?

Clara was pondering this poser when a handsome stranger in a tuxedo stood in front of her and said, "Hi."

Her knees almost gave way; he was speaking to her. Clara's mouth opened to squeak a reply when his face cracked into a thousand pieces and she realized she was staring down the throat of a Vampire. But instead of just biting into her neck the creature bit her entire head off.

Her severed head screamed, "Please help me!"

Clara burst awake in a sweat, eyes opened wide in fear. She became aware she was in the safety of her own bed where she'd been taking a nap before this evening's festivities.

* * *

Action replay.

* * *

Clara Wright checked the perimeter fencing of the enclave on Brown's Hill and sighed. So much of the four-foot high boarding was rotting from the bottom – the constructors had used cheap and inferior timber. She sighed again at the entrance eyeing the gate that had fallen after its rusting hinges had given way; it had been dragged and thrown into the overgrown garden behind the fencing.

Although Clara was in charge of internal security she was powerless to have the gate repaired and re-erected. The governing board had no spare funds because the forty residents were tight-fisted. She went to the pool where a cook-out was underway for anyone who bothered to turn up to celebrate Halloween. A resident, Ivan Perkins who owned the nearby take-out bar, was in charge of cooking; Clara hoped he wouldn't burn the steaks into almost inedible crap this time.

She smiled, greeting arrivals as they straggled in, most of whom were drunk, few wearing appropriate fancy dress and most looking ill at ease as if they'd just been fighting with their partners. Clara now felt ill at ease: that meant those upset women would turn to another women who was similarly tearful; they would wander off to a dark corner to commence a sexual affair – not a lesbian affair because she was sure none of them were lesbians. The men, of course, would simply become even more aggressive and pick a fight with another male, also stressed, all of them acting like bad-tempered lions.

Still, all this was amusing to watch.

Clara was dressed as a witch and felt horny because she's not had loving sex for three weeks when Kevin walked out on her, ending their quite long relationship of almost a month. The beautiful Mrs Hoare floated up and kissed her. "Hi darling, found a replacement for Kevin yet? Clara shook her head sadly and kissed Felicity, a fellow prostitute. Both worked quite a lot from home as most of the men in their small community were clients.

The party was beginning to rev up, people responding to the throbbing music provided and played by local music store proprietor Todd Trubuhovich – God what a name thought Clara who had no problem remembering it because his wife Trudy was such a bitch - she put Trudy-Bitch together as a prompt for her memory. Todd fancied himself as a disk jock or whatever they were called and she assumed the throbbing beat would be appreciated by those naughty women in the shadows seeking release from their tension.

Felicity Hoare was being berated by another woman resident who was shouting, "Leave my husband alone, you whore!" when Clara arrived to break it up. Clara admonished the other woman" "Gwen, if you opened your legs more for Gareth he wouldn't find it necessary to poke his thing elsewhere."

Gwen burst into tears so the two women hugged her. "Please, one of you come with me into the shadows," Gwen pleaded but they both declined, believing it to be unprofessional, demeaning their profession. Felicity had a quite word with graphic artist Sylvia Copeland who excitedly led Gwen away whispering she happened to have her favorite 'rabbit' toy in her handbag.

Felicity's husband Arnold, who already had been in one fight, arrived to claim Felicity for a dance. He kissed Clara in sympathy.

"Felix has told me you haven't managed to replace Kevin yet?"

"Alas no."

"I had a chat with Felix last night. She won't allow me to visit you, saying that would be adultery, but she's comfortable about you coming over for dinner occasionally and we finishing off in bed as a threesome."

"Yes, dear," Felicity added. :I'm comfortable about it, especially with Arnie's suggestion that we climax with you sitting on my face and holding my legs up while he stands and butt fucks me; I go all wet just thinking about it."

"Oh God, you two, stop it," Clara grinned. "I'm beginning to drip already."

After two dances Felicity returned to Clara's side and offered to go into the shadows with her.

"I'd like to but as convener of this event I must supervise and circulate. Where's Arnold?"

"Over there, beating the crap out of Henry Baldwin," Felicity said, pointing.

"But Henry's much bigger."

"I know, but men have this stupid code – Henry accepts he has a height and weight advantage so refuses to punch hard; that allows Arnie to wallop him. Men really are small boys, aren't they?"

"What, for fighting?"

"No, for believing in living by this thing they call 'the code', believing their wives are faithful to them and pretending they like children."

"Yes, quite right," Clara smiled and then frowned. "That's what's missing from this party, children."

Felicity giggled. "We're both dressed as wicked witches – let's go out and find some and lure them here."

"Is that legal?"

"Anything goes on Halloween," Felicity said, doing her best but failing to look evil.

So hand in hand, Felicity dressed as a white witch and Clara as a black witch they walked out to recruit young entertainers.

They found some, just up the street, singing in front of the doorway of a big house. The door opened and a testy old man with a cigar in his hand shouted, "Clear off you hooligans."

The children fled the property, screaming which turned into laughter.

"Hey kids," Felicity called.

"Oh look, two witches," screamed one of the older kids and the ten children aged from about three to ten surrounded Felicity and Clara.

"Do you know the houses on Brown's Hill?"

"Yes," most of them chorused.

A girl about ten said very seriously, "But we can't go up there. The big notice says visitors by appointment only; children are pro-pro something which means they can't go in there."

"Prohibited," Felicity said. "Well, tonight you can. The black witch with me, Miss Wright, is one of the big bosses on Brown's Hill. She's inviting you to Trick-and-Treat our people."

"Yes, you are invited to follow the white witch Mrs Hoare and me up the hill but first we must ask a supervising parent," Clara said. "Where are they?"

"Here," said a man, emerging from the shadows accompanied by two women still pulling up the tops of their dresses.

The three parent supervisors conferred with the witches and it was agreed the children could go.

Clara was still breathless after first sighting the man. He was tall, dark and handsome and then she suddenly remembered he looked exactly like that vampire in her dream before his mask disintegrated. She almost wet herself but he gradually won himself over; he had a fabulous smile.

"Check the dude who was playing with those two mothers," Felicity whispered, "Oh God, he has the physique of a perfect fucking machine – a human one, I mean. Go get him girl."

"He'll be married."

"That hasn't inhibited you previously."

"Oh, you mean extract a fee?"

Felicity nodded and smiled encouragingly.

Fenton Bannister's gaze had fallen on the beauty of the white witch and he caught the sight of blonde hair and thought probably she would have stacks of it piled up under that stupid hat. But those eyes drifted to Clara's chest and he caught his breath; Fenton Bannister's fetish was sucking breasts – specifically women's breasts. Despite the black cloak thing this reasonably attractive woman was wearing, the mass of breast was...er...well, quite outstanding.

"Daddy, please allow us to go." That plea came from a cute dark-haired four-year-old girl who was unlikely to be any younger being that polite, thought Clara, and at five would be precocious enough to tell her daddy, "We're going."

"They'll come to no harm – we're not crazy misfits up on that hill," Clara said, walking right up to him. "Weird, yes, but not crazy."

"Oh God," the daddy almost whimpered,

Clara unaware that she had the identical intensely dark green eyes, small rounded mouth and was the height of his beloved Caroline who'd been killed by a car driven by a drunk exactly a year ago – the night of Halloween.

"Let them come with us, it is a special night for children. The folk up there will rush off to their apartments and return loaded with goodies and all of us will be ever so happy."

"Who are you/" he queried.

"Clara Wright."

The man looked dazed. "Do you play golf?"

"Not for a year, I'm not very good at it."

"How long have you lived on the hill?"

Clara smiled saying a year, wondering why she was under interrogation.

"A woman named Clara Wright at our golf club and played off a six handicap was lost at sea in a boating accident a year ago. This is too much of a co-incidence."

"So?"

"Nothing."

"Well just let me say I don't go to sea because I feel seasick even walking on a jetty. Let's get on with this: Are the children permitted to come with us; you three parents may accompany them."

He conferred with the two women and returned with them. "Clara, this is Jill and Cindy and I'm Fenton. We agree the children could have great fun up the hill but we must not loiter too long as only four of them are our children; we must get them and the other children home soon."

"Hi guys. I'm Clara Wright and this is my best friend Felicity Hoare. Felicity, this is Jill on the right, Cindy and Fenton. Come on everyone, let's go."

They trooped up the driveway, Clara excusing herself and jogging on ahead to stop the fights, pull the women from the shadows and brief everyone what was about to happen.

Felicity almost wondered if she were in the wrong location when she led in the children. Everything was immaculate and the couples, all seated with their own partners, were smiling and looking eager. She noted some of the men had bruised faces while some of the women wore unusually smug expressions.

"Trick-or-Treat" shouted the children. Everyone except Henry Baldwin opted for treat, and already briefed by Clara residents raced away to return with sweets and other gifts to fill the children's shopping bags. Meanwhile Henry skirted the pool to be tricked. Two older girls who had been whispering, stepped out and asked Henry – sporting a cut to the forehead and a swelling eye – to close his eyes; he was then pushed backwards into the pool. The kids and everyone else shouted "Tricked!" As Henry emerged spluttering from the pool he had the good grace to smile and shout, "Really tricked." Two of the women – neither his wife – hurried Henry away to change his clothes.

During the noisy farewells as the children were leaving, Fenton still possessed this astonishing suspicion. He called out to Clara, "Caroline." Clara didn't turn – she must have heard him, he thought, feeling really frustrated. Then with a jolt Fenton saw the child she was hugging goodbye was his Molly.

Clara was dumfounded when instead of just kissing her on the cheek as he'd kissed Felicity goodbye, Fenton hugged her as he kissed her on the lips. "Come and play golf with me on Sunday – please don't decline."

"Well, in that case I better accept," As she said that he noticed his blue eyes blur and then a tear trickle down one cheek. She smiled – you take care going home with Molly. Clara was thinking he was drunk like most of the others although he'd only consumed one wine all the time he was sitting with her. How odd.

Fenton was about to challenge Clara about her identity when he heard Felicity say, "Goodnight Molly darling." Of course, Molly had told them her name. He felt cheated; it wasn't supposed to happen like that. Well he'd test Clara at golf and then attempt to lure her to go sailing with him – if he could get her aboard he'd observe if she displayed familiarity with the boat to thus prove beyond doubt she was his Caroline returned to life.

On Sunday Fenton arrived at the golf club with Clara and introduced her to their partners – Meg and Clem Partridge. Meg had grown up with Caroline so if his suspicions were correct Fenton expected Meg to spot something odd about Clara.

As soon as they reached the first tee and Fenton saw the smoothness of Clara's swing his throat tightened – Caroline. It was Caroline's swing. He interrupted craftily when he heard Meg ask Clara what was her handicap.

"She's playing off six today."

Clara look at Fenton dismayed. Was he off his rocker? Then she saw him wink and guessed something was up. She played on a handicap of twenty-two and hadn't played for a year so would be awful. Fenton must want the Partridge's to win for some reason because now his suggestion that she play as his partner was accepted.

The first hole was an easy, straightforward par four. Fenton watched as with effortless ease his Caroline drilled the centre from the tee and landed in a greenside bunker with her second. He wasn't at all worried. His Caroline was great from the bunker – she'd be down in two from there, easily. In fact her shot from the sand bounced on the green three times then trickled into the hole.

"What did you say your handicap was Clara?" asked Meg who finished with a six.

"I didn't say," Clara said bewildered, knowing for the first time in her life she felt as if she really was a golfer instead of a hacker. She scored pars on the next two holes.

"I can't believe this – this just isn't me," she almost wailed as she climbed into the cart with Fenton at the wheel.

"We celebrated Halloween last night, did we not?" he asked.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with this."

"I'm going to tell you a Halloween story as we drive between play. I don't want to scare you and you are free to disbelieve it as much as you like. Okay?"

"Of course and be aware I don't scare easy."

Clara was shaken to hear the story and considered it unreal. "Okay, I played to an eight handicap today which also is unreal. If I were Caroline why didn't I turn in response when you called me that name?"

"I don't know. I suspect with these things not everything falls into place – you probably are simply my Caroline in spirit and it's a coincidence that you and Clara are look-alikes."

"You mean Caroline and me."

"If you wish."

"Ah, why didn't I recognize Molly or feel something when I kissed her?"

"I've already attempted to answer that, inadequately I agree. Will you come home and stay the night with me. Molly is staying overnight with my sister and her husband."

"Yes, but if you want sex you'll have to pay for it."

Fenton appeared shocked but smiled and said that was okay.

"Right, then listen while I tell you about myself."

Clara described her life on the hill and in explicit detail described her working life, not caring if she scared him off. As she finished she noticed that instead of looking at her in disgust he was smiling triumphantly. What the hell?

"Where were you born?"

She became confused. "I can't remember."

"That's odd. So where did you grow up?"

Clara shook her head. "Okay, here's the truth. I appear to have suffered memory loss, but it doesn't worry me as apart from Felicity and Arnie I keep pretty much to myself and that saves my from prying questions. The earliest memory I have is standing at the gates of the enclave with a newspaper in my hand that advertised one of the apartments for sale."

"Just after Halloween last year?"

"Yes, the first of November in fact. That date comes back to me readily."

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byEgmont Grigor© 2 comments/ 23773 views/ 2 favorites

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