The Return Of The Natalie Incident

I took her by the hand and led her away from the view, showing her quickly around the rest of the house exterior and the two small barns where Dad kept various bits of junk that my Mother was always shouting at him to throw away. Behind the barns were a dozen hens in a battered run, and an ancient John Deere that was merrily rotting into the earth. And that was it, that was the farm. Small and neat and not much to look at, but set in good country and a place I could always call home.

The house was dark and humid from the heat, and I cracked windows and lit lamps while Natalie wandered around the living rooms and laughed at my old school photographs that Mom refused to throw away. I'd never actually got around to eating my bagel, and my stomach was growling, so I set water to boil for pasta while I listened to Nat laugh herself into near hysterics when she found a picture of me sporting green hair and a Motley Crue T-shirt. She came into the kitchen as I was tearing some salad.

'What's this?' She giggled, holding the horrific image infront of her.

I shook my head and let out a long sigh. 'It was a long time ago.'

'How old were you?'

'Old enough to know better.'

'You look about thirteen.'

'Like I said, old enough to know better.'

She crossed the kitchen and leant across the table before me. 'What are you making?'

'Just a little pasta and salad. You hungry?'

'Starving, I haven't eaten all day,' she replied. 'You never told me you cooked.'

'This isn't cooking. This is just throwing stuff together,' I said. 'You should be here when my Mother gets going. Pies and cakes and God knows what else. That's something to see.'

'I wish I could see it.'

I looked up at her, and the expression on her face was one I couldn't read. The sunken lamps around the kitchen walls cast a low light over her, and I noticed just how tired she looked. She moved around the table and pressed herself into me, and I wrapped my arms around her back and held her tightly. I felt breath against my neck as she sank her body into mine.

'You sound exhausted.' I said.

'I am,' she murmured. 'Need to eat, then sleep.'

I held her for a moment longer, then regretfully sat her in a chair while I finished preparing the meal. As I did so I told her about my job at the newspaper, and we recalled some of the good times we'd spent back in Los Angeles together. We fell silent as we ate; the food was good and I was pleased to see Natalie scraped her plate clean with a chunk of bread. She finished the wine I'd poured her and sighed contentedly as she replaced the glass on the table.

'Better?' I asked, and she nodded and yawned deeply as a reply. 'Just let me soak these dishes, and I'll show you the bathroom.'

'Why don't you leave them until the morning?'

I lowered my eyebrows in mock sternness. 'Because my Mom will know.'

'She's thousands of miles away.'

'Believe me honey, she sees everything.'

I ran the hot water but the stream came through cold, so I made my way down to the basement to check on the boiler, brushing through silken spider-webs as I traversed the uneven staircase. The cellar air was damp and heavy from the earth floor, and the bare bulb swung eerily back and forth in some minor draft. As I'd suspected, the ignition light on the boiler was out, and I re-ignited it quickly and made my way back up the steps, wanting to be away from the staleness of the cellar and back to the warmth of the kitchen and Natalie.

When I reached the kitchen it was empty. The lights still burned and the dishes were piled neatly next to the sink, but Natalie wasn't there. I locked the cellar door behind me and hung the key on the hook, before walking quietly into the living room.

She was curled up in my Father's favourite easychair, legs bent beneath her and her head resting on the heavily padded and worn arm. Her eyes were closed, and I said her name quietly but her slow breathing confirmed she was asleep. I knelt beside her and eased my right arm behind her back, before sliding my left under her legs and lifting her as carefully as I could from the chair. She rolled her face into mine as I did so, and wrapped her arms around my neck as I walked with her from the room and ascended the long staircase to the first floor.

I'd changed my bedclothes that morning before work, and I entered my room and lay her down onto a crisp white sheet that was luminous with the moonlight that poured through the window and fell upon it. It was only after I unfastened her shoes and took them from her feet that Natalie stirred awake, and even then only partially. She mumbled something to me but I couldn't catch it, and I moved my face close to where her own lay obscured by the pillow.

'What did you say?' I whispered.

She opened one beautiful eye and focused upon me. 'I said, I'm sorry I'm so out of it. I'll make it up to you.'

'You make me happy just being here,' I said, and I kissed her gently on the forehead. 'Asleep or awake.'

I ran my fingers through her hair and was about to speak again, but her breathing had deepened once more. I wasn't surprised; travelling from Los Angeles was a hell of journey to make in one day, and on some difficult roads. That combined with the recent heat the state had been getting would cause major fatigue in anyone.

She still wore the white dress, and as the night was warm I pulled the topsheet up over her to the waist, and left the blankets in a heap at the foot of the bed. I cracked the window and let a useful breeze flow into the room, and moved to the doorway before turning back to look at her. Black hair spread across the pillow and her hand curled under her chin, moonlight making her look almost angelic. For a moment my heart ached at the sight of her, and I wanted nothing more than to climb into the bed and take her in my arms. To hold her, caress and make love to her. But the truth was, I didn't really know where I stood. We were totally at ease with each other, and since meeting in the town had hugged, even shared light kisses. Nothing more though, nothing passionate. Were we just friends? I didn't have an answer.

I stole one more look at her before closing the door behind me, leaving an inch gap. I returned back downstairs and grabbed my guitar from the living room and a bottle of beer from the fridge, before heading outside and sitting on the porch. The remnants of the sunset still lurked as a deep purple haze on the horizon, but the surrounding country was silhouetted black against the moon. I drank deeply from the bottle and fingered some chords, picking out a few blues riffs and filling my lungs with the night air. A dog barked in the distance, echoed by an owl, but aside from that my National was the only sound to be heard. I drained the beer and used the bottle as a slide, trying to recreate the sounds of Robert Johnson and failing spectacularly. I determined that was a good time to hit the sack, and returned inside and secured the downstairs doors and windows.

I could hear Natalie's light breathing as I passed her room, and again the urge to enter was strong. I surpressed it and went into one of the back bedrooms, stripped naked and got into the cool bed linen. As I lay there, my thoughts went back to the day, and our meeting once again, and I smiled in the darkness to myself. If someone had told me this morning that I'd be in the same house as Natalie come Nightfall, I'd have laughed in their face. Good job no-one offered to bet me, I was broke enough as it was...

***************

That night I had a dream so vivid that when I awoke with a thin film of sweat on my skin it took me a couple of minutes to realise that a dream was all it was. I sat on the edge of the bed with chattering teeth and a blanket wrapped around me, before quickly closing the window. The moon had disappeared into cloud and the air had grown cold. Or maybe it was the dream that was the cause of my shivering.

I was walking along a barren, desolate road with blackened, charred desert to my left and right, stretching as far as I could see. Trees lay at intermittent moments, but they were lifeless and dead, as if subjected to intense fire that had left them skeletal. The sky was without sun and the deep banks of cloud were the colour of old engine oil. I walked quickly, head bowed, afraid of what I might see.

After some time, during which the wind had risen with the sound of a screaming child, I came upon a crossroads. Another equally lonely road crossed my path at right angles, and stretched away in both directions as far as I could see. Nothing came along this dead highway; no vehicles, no people, nothing except dust.

I moved forward, into the very middle of the crossroads, and at that moment the wind rose and grew, almost took on a life of it's own, and the long coat I was wearing was whipped away from my body, literally torn from me. I turned and watched it fly into the distance, rising and falling, before I turned back into the head-on wind, bracing myself against the force.

And it was then that I saw. Before me on the road that I was as yet to travel, the desert dissolved away, the stricken land merging from brown to green. In the distance I could see the lush foliage of pines, and plants and flowers of numerous colour rose before me. Water flowed, and the skies had melted from sick grey into healthy azure blue. I wanted to stand in that beautiful place more than anything, and I started to move towards it.

But the wind held me back, even though I pushed hard, leant at a near forty-five degree angle, but I could not move forward. And then the wind took me and turned me, span my vision away from paradise and forced me to look back at the desert once again. And this time the land was filled with fire and rain and huge, murderous balls of hail that thudded into the earth like slugs from a pistol. I tried to turn away but invisible hands held me, dragged me back, and I felt a noose pull tight against my throat even though I could see no rope. I tried to shout out but my voice was a helpless wheeze as I was dragged down, my feet going from beneath me as I fell on my back. I tried to rise in vain, but I was pulled backwards, my lungs burning, heat scorching my back...

After I'd bolted upright with a gasp and a barely surpressed cry, and then realised where I was, only then did my breathing return to normal. I used the toilet and washed my face before returning and sitting on the bed. It was only after several minutes I could force myself to lay down again, and then with the bedside lamp burning. I lay stiffly, the sheet pulled up under my chin, unblinking as I stared at the cracks in the ceiling.

The return to sleep took a long time.

***************

Sunlight shone through the windowpane and woke me as it fell across my eyes. I checked my watch and saw it was still early, only six-thirty, but all the sleep had left me. My legs felt weak as I stood, and my mouth was dry and had a sour taste. I dressed quickly in sweatpants and a white T-shirt and laced my trainers tightly, before splashing water over my hair and face and brushing my teeth a couple of times.

I left the bathroom quietly and moved across the landing, but before reaching the stairs I decided to check on Natalie. Her door was still slightly ajar and I pushed it open silently and peeked inside.

She lay on her back, one arm curled around her head over the pillow, the other tucked beneath the sheet. Sometime during the night she must have removed her dress, and it lay across the scruffy armchair in the corner of the room. As I watched she shifted back and forth slightly with a soft sigh, and the movement caused the sheet to be pulled downwards, exposing her left breast someway. She stretched her arm and in a moment her nipple was revealed, small and dark against the creamy whiteness of her skin. The sun's rays flooding the bed made the sheet almost translucent, and the rest of her body was a shadow beneath the thin material. I forced myself to look away as my erection pushed painfully against my sweats. The last thing I wanted was for her to suddenly awaken and see my face around the doorframe like a peeping tom.

I limped downstairs and into the already warm kitchen. There was juice in the fridge and I drank from the carton and grabbed an apple before unlocking the door and stepping out onto the porch. The morning was gorgeous but I saw nothing of it; my thoughts were filled with the image of a naked Natalie, and it was a vision that I couldn't and didn't want to force from my mind.

I crossed the yard towards the smaller of the two barns and threw the main door open. Although gloomy shafts of light penetrated through holes in the wall and roof and picked out the dust swimming in the air. At the far end was a collection of ancient farm equipment and some stalls that hadn't seen any cattle for many years. In the middle was my Father's prized Ford Galaxy, the fat whitewalls the only part of the car visible beneath the Tarpaulin that covered the immaculate body work. Nearest the door were haybales stacked against one wall and an old heavybag, the leather cracked and deep brown, hanging from one of the joists.

There was a small boombox resting on one of the bales, and I thumbed the power and searched through the tapes that I kept in a shoebox until I found an old homemade Pixies compilation. I stripped off my T-shirt and pulled on boxing mitts as the distorted guitar of Black Francis filled the barn, and I started to circled the bag, throwing light jabs as I bobbed on my toes and started to warm up.

After a few minutes my skin was shining with perspiration and I was moving with more speed, the dull thud of my gloves striking the leather as I practised combinations, punching the thoughts of Natalie from my mind. Wave Of Mutilation kicked in, and I started hammering the bag in time with the fast beat, my breathing getting faster and the muscles in my shoulders screaming for relief. Sweat dripped into my eyes, hot and stinging.

And then the track ended abruptly, as did my strikes a moment later. I dropped my arms gratefully to my side and bent over, breathing heavily and letting the sweat fall from my hair onto the dusty floor.

'Feeling better?'

I snapped my head up, surprised at the sound of Natalie's voice. She was standing in the doorway of the barn, the morning sun fireballing behind her, and was dressed in grey shorts that were tight and snug against her hips and upper thighs. The matching vest was equally tight, curving around the swell of her breasts and finishing a couple of inches short of her bellybutton. She was barefooted, with her hair tied back simply, and I swear I had never seen anything or anyone more beautiful than the way she looked right then. She held two mugs in her hands. My mouth must have been hanging open, and I definitely wasn't capable of speech.

'Thought you could use some coffee?' She said, smiling sweetly.

The next tune started, a rare moment of clarity for The Pixies called La La Love You, a song title that couldn't have been more appropriate for the way I was feeling at that moment. I crossed over to the stereo and lowered the volume, and Natalie came further into the barn, handed me one of the mugs. The coffee was dark and hot, smelled strong.

'I'm sorry if I woke you,' I said.

She shook her head and sipped from her mug. 'You didn't, not really. I heard you moving about downstairs and then the backdoor open, and I realised that I'd slept enough.' She drank again and then continued. 'I heard you cry out last night, were you dreaming?'

'More of a nightmare.'

'You okay? Do you want to talk about it?'

'No, it was nothing. I can't even remember what it was about,' I said, feeling a shudder run down my spine despite the heat of my body. I could remember the dream perfectly. 'Good coffee.'

'Thankyou.' She reached up on tiptoe and kissed me on the cheek. 'I didn't know you did this,' she said, indicating towards the punchbag. She rested her mug on one of the bales and went to the bag, drew back her arm and punched it. The bag barely moved, and she turned to me.

'It's really hard,' she said.

I grinned and went towards her, thinking to myself how it wasn't the only one. It took a monumental effort for me to keep my eyes away from Natalie's behind, where the lycra shorts moulded into her buttocks, and concentrate on her face. If I kept looking at her body then my approval would be painfully obvious.

'You shouldn't hit it with bare hands, you'll just bruise your skin,' I said. 'The bag belongs to my old man, I just have a go with it when I stay here.'

'You were bashing it pretty hard while I was watching.'

'How long were you watching?'

Now it was Natalie who grinned. 'Couple of minutes maybe. About as long as that noise was blaring away.'

'That noise comes from one of the greatest bands of all-time.'

'Maybe, but I'd still rather just listen to the sounds of the morning.'

As she said this she turned around to where I was standing behind her, and looked up at me. Her eyes were bright and the fatigue that had crossed her face the night before had disappeared. A stray strand of hair had fallen across her forehead, and her skin was golden in the shadows of the barn. I felt my heartbeat thudding against my ribcage, and I edged closer to her until my chest met her own. Her hand fell onto the damp skin of my torso as I kept looking into those deep eyes.

'You need a shower,' she said quietly, but not moving away from me. I didn't answer, just continued looking down at her, before brushing the hair from her face. 'Maybe you could show me how to do it,' she added, 'that's if you're not too hot.'

I pulled the gloves from my hands and she pushed her fingers into the openings. They were too big for her but she clenched her fists to stop them sliding off, and they would at least offer some protection. I lowered my hands to the soft skin of her waist and turned her around to face the bag.

'You need to get the stance right, otherwise the bag will fight back,' I said.

'Okay,' she smiled, and dropped immediately into an exaggerated pose, her knees bent and arms tensed. 'How this?'

'Look's fantastic from where I'm standing,' I said, 'but this ain't no Bruce Lee movie.' I stood next to her. 'Try it more like this.' I fell into a loose stance, left leg forward and my body twisted to the side, arms held at mid-chest. 'See?'

'I think so,' she said, and moved her body back against mine, mimicking my stance by moulding herself against me, her back pressed against my chest and the curves of her bottom pushed back against my crotch. A light wind spread through the barn and blew the dust into tiny storms, and Natalie's hair tickled against my bare shoulders.

For the next few minutes I demonstrated punches and jabs and she followed my lead, throwing her weight hard against the bag and rattling the supporting chain. The cassette had finished by this time, and the barn was filled with the sound of beating leather and Natalie's breathing. My breathing was faster too, although that was more due to the fact that everytime I showed her something new she pressed herself to me. Each time her skin became increasingly hotter and after she'd knocked off some tasty jabs that I wouldn't have wanted to been on the receiving end of she fell back against my chest, panting hard.

I wrapped my arms across her naked stomach and held her. 'You okay?'

'Feel great,' she panted, resting her head back on my shoulder. 'How did I do?'

'You did good.'

'Think I could challenge for the title.'

'Definitely.' A trail of sweat trickled down her slender neck, and I couldn't resist. I lowered my head and stopped the flow with my tongue, licking upwards and feeling her shudder under my hands. The lick turned to a kiss and I tasted salty skin on my lips, my kisses light and moving towards her ear. She reached backwards and I felt her fingers move up my waist and onto the sensitive skin below my ribs.