To Leave Unforgotten

Tom lit his cigarette against the harsh, autumn wind and with his face screwed up from the cold, took a hard drag. He cringed at the acrid taste and his lungs shrieked in pain as the smoke poured inside him. He pulled the cigarette away from his lips as he mused to himself, "This is it. This is the last one."

Ash flitted on top of the thigh of his white wash jeans as he played with the cigarette between his left index and thumb. His blue T shirt entirely concealed by his black duster which was pulled in tight to shelter him from the gale. He had been waiting for Cathy for more than half an hour. The chilly, damp air flowed through his hair as his legs involuntarily rocked his chair at the table of this street side café.

The white and red chequered tablecloth fluttered in the gust and threatened to snatch his pack of cigarettes away. He snatched the pack and his lighter of the table and stuffed then into the inner pocket of his jacket. "I could just leave," the ingenious voice in his head cajoled his inner sceptic upon whom it dawned that she might not show. As his spirit began to surrender to the notion, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the wispy blonde hair among the fresh crowd of people turning the street corner in front of him.

Relief.

But Tom was also mystified. Why had she decided to show? They were barely strangers and yet, here she was. It seemed strange to him. He had no recent memories of asking women to come and meet him in cafés and even fewer of actual women showing up. Tom's sexual needs were gratified only with the occasional hooker. But he didn't enjoy it much. And the kinks he craved; few hookers could oblige.

Cathy moved in fast stride. Her beige trench coat didn't contrast well to the lemon yellow turtle neck sweater top she was wearing. Her khaki trousers cascaded the brown boots that thudded lightly as she came up to his table

"Hi."

"Hey. What can I get you?" asked Tom, raising himself to pull out a chair as an awkward smile wriggled on her pale face.

"Ohh, anything warm would be just great right now. Umm. Could we move inside?" she asked, indicating to the empty tables on the other side of the shop's windows. Illuminated in a warm yellow, the entire interior of the café was inviting her to feel its embrace.

"Yeah. Sure." Tom said, stubbing his cigarette on the ash tray, swiftly pushing the chair back in place, grabbing her by the small of her back and whisking her through the door.

The atmosphere inside was of a completely different world, toasty and welcoming, quieter than the street outside, the reticent whisperings of the other customers were the only sounds in the air through which the perfume of ground coffee and caramel gracefully floated.

Cathy noticed a couple giggling, leaning in shoulder to shoulder as she and Tom moved onto a table he chose at the far end of the room. Cathy smirked as she pondered if her date would run a similar track. But she didn't even know if this was a date.

"Have you ever tried the vanilla latte here?" he asked, gliding towards the counter that was just behind his shoulder before she could answer.

Tom began his parley with the barista, describing clearly how he needed the coffee to the teenage boy; it had to be extremely hot and extremely vanilla, explaining that he had hyped their café to the lovely lady who was seated at his table and anything less than perfect would be unacceptable to her. The boy behind the counter grinned at Cathy. She gave a weak smile and dropped her neck almost instinctively to avoid further interaction, feeling embarrassed from the way Tom made it seem that it was she who demanded pure luxury from their tiny little shop.

Tom noted her reactions from the corner of his eye, still fully engaged in his over the counter conversation.

"We'll have your order ready in a few minutes, Sir. Why don't you take your seat till then?"

Tom nodded with a smile and proceeded to their table, now his attention back fully on Cathy.

"I wish I could take you to the countryside and just leave you in a field somewhere."

"What? Why?" asked Cathy, completely puzzled. There was definitely a better way to invite a girl fo ra picnic

"You should be dancing and singing without a care in the world. I bet you'd be totally different if you didn't think anyone was looking at you. But you don't need to be so afraid." He said, reaching out for her hand which rested on the table, the feeling of his touch made her shiver, he could feel it, but she didn't pull away and that made him smile.

"I'm not afraid," but even as she said those words, a sharp feeling of uneasiness seized her, starting from her legs all the way up to her throat, making her heart skip. But it wasn't because of him, it was the threat of being vulnerable, opening herself to anyone, that she found disconcerting.

"You seem like someone who still has a lot to say to the world. A story left to be laid out. And maybe, part of you knows it too. But a part of you can't accept it. Like doing that, unleashing yourself, would be a betrayal."

"Can we talk about something else?" she didn't like the pandering. He tone wasn't even slightly disingenuous but these words made her recoil.

"Sure," he could sense that he had struck a nerve in some way, "Why don't we go somewhere? There's a little fair going on very close to my place. A bunch of little street shops and lots of families with kids running around. It's a bit too bright for me. But it's still interesting to watch. We'll take those to go, Toby." he said to the barista, getting up to collect the two cups, paying Toby the cash and beckoning Cathy to follow him out.

"How far's your place?"

"It's close. But we have to catch a train. We'll have to get to subway." he said, handing her a cup. The Subway was a few minutes' walk and they moved briskly to reach its entrance. As they got inside, a strong chemically disinfected atmosphere greeted them in the sparsely populated lobby. Getting down the escalator which led towards the platform, Tom went ahead to buy their tickets as Cathy waited by, sipping on her coffee.

As they set foot onto the Subway platform, the sound of the approaching train grinding its wheels along the tracks jolted Cathy back to the first time she had met Tom.

She had been standing on the edge of this exact platform. She had been staring vacantly at the corner of a broken tile for what seemed like hours. The sound of an arriving train growing louder, but muffled to almost sterile silence by the shrill ringing inside her head. Her contemplation had finally stopped and the first signs of the relief she yearned for had taken hold of her body, growing, relaxing, allowing each muscle to slowly let go of the skeletons they had been holding. As providence slowly nudged for the meeting of flesh and metal, a low dull voice suddenly grabbed her from behind, bringing physical reality flooding back into focus, "You're not ready yet."

"Wha..What?" mumbled Cathy, slightly startled.

"You're too scared to stay up here...and you're too scared to be down there."

Cathy said nothing. She could only gape vaguely at this stranger. His cold, black eyes broke her from the spell her mind had kept her in. His words had spoken a truth that she had always known, but now she didn't feel as alone in it.

"What's your name?"

"Cathy. How did you know...?"

"I like your hair."

Cathy felt confused, and a little sick. All she could do was squint her eyes and blink at the man in front of her, sure that at least one of them was crazy. Tom was still taking her in with his eyes, "Would you like to sit down?" he asked.

Cathy could only nod as he took by her elbow and guided her to an old-fashioned iron bench that was right behind them. They didn't speak much after that. Most of the time passed staring at the floor with a few strange glances now and again. Finally, Tom placed his palm on top of her hand and as she turned to look at him, he stared her dead in the eyes.

"I have to go now. But I want to meet you again. Monday. 6 P.M. Do you know the café on the corner of St. Bards?"

"No. But I guess I could find it"

"Will you still be here?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It's a genuine question, and I hope you are" said Tom, getting off the bench and approaching the open doors of the Train that had just pulled in. Cathy just watched him lumber into the cabin, not once turning back.

"Okay, Monday. 6 P.M." she called out. He whirled his neck back to give a slight smirk as the doors of the train closed behind him.

Now, Cathy was here, with him, on Monday. An she felt as if maybe her luck was changing. As though the world did have something good left for her.

As she came out of her reveries, the train pulled up and they got in. He had been yapping on about the fair, but she had barely heard, inattentively drinking her coffee which was almost done. The ride was just a few minutes. They got off at the next station and ascended up to the escalator that led them to ground level.

The change in the street environment was instantly visible. There were lights decked everywhere, illuminating even the nearby buildings, making even the chilly night feel cosy and snug, fuelled by the smoky aura of meats roasted by street vendors. Tom eased in closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist as they roamed through the market. Past the throngs of people, they purveyed all the little shops, politely disengaging from the sellers promoting their wares. They ended up in front of a little play area, fenced to keep the children inside.

"People have children, then leave them around in the care of other people just to have their own fun. Then why fucking have them in the first place?"

Cathy sighed. "Just when I think you're normal, you say something weird like that."

"It's a great way to destroy a kid's life," he added, ignoring her tangent.

Cathy noted a certain distress pass through his expression. This guy really felt concern for these kids.

"Look...They're having fun," she pointed at the little bundles of woolly winterwear screaming in infantile ecstasy as they tore through the jungle gym.

He pulled her in even tighter. He wanted to divert them from the topic. "You feeling hungry?" he asked.

"Mm. I could eat."

"You're so indecisive. Listen. My apartments right there. Why don't I make you something? We could have a drink as well."

"Haha," came Cathy's sardonic reply, "This was what it was all leading to, wasn't it?"

Tom laughed again." All I'm offering is a meal. And if you don't like what's being served, you can leave anytime."

"Hmm. Whats....being....served?" said Cathy, but that was all the confirmation that Tom needed. Tugging her along lightly, they made their way towards the entrance stoop of his apartment building, past the black metal framed dirty glass door; Tom now took her by the hand and began to lead her up the stairs. Two flights later, he stopped at the door right at the top of the stairs. Tom let go of Cathy to remove his key from his duster pocket and slowly unlocked the door and walked into the dark passage, switching on the lights as he entered.

Cathy had barely passed the door that Tom shut it behind her and grabbed her by the hand again. He was finally going to get what he wanted and he pushed her hard against the wall of the passageway and just glared straight into her eyes. Cathy's discomfort became instantly more acute. Her neck immediately bent towards the floor, avoiding his gaze. Tom leaned in towards her left cheek, brushing his chin against it, he could smell her unadulterated scent now. And he found it intoxicating. He could feel the tension in her body. He locked the fingers of her right hand in his and whispered into her ear, "Loosen up. I don't want to see you like this. I won't be able to enjoy it."

Cathy slowly looked up into his eyes." I shouldn't have come here. This was a mistake."

"No mistake, you came because I offered. You came because you wanted to find out exactly what I would be serving. Right?"

Cathy said nothing, she let out a light sigh as her body relaxed. Tom grasped her sides with both his arms and pushed his body onto hers. Cathy eased into his move and responded with the slightest tilt of her head and offered resistance to his pressure. But there was a coldness to it that gave Cathy goosebumps and filled her at the same time. Tom pushed up harder against her. He could feel her breasts against his body and Cathy could now feel his erection; pressing against her hips.

Tom popped off his shoes and Cathy followed suit. "Come," said Tom, taking her by the hand again and leading her through the passageway to a doorway at the far-left end. They went into his room. Cathy noticed that it was quite meticulously cleaned. Even the sheets were fresh, but the room itself was minimally furnished, but everything was so neat that it helped Cathy feel a bit more settled than she had been coming in to the apartment.

He turned and pulled her in her again, his left hand now on her right butt cheek and his right hand beginning to roam her back, moving to the lower centre and starting to pull at her top as their cheeks brushed delicately in the strange dance of the two smoothly grinding bodies.

Tom's right hand nimbly sneaked under her clothes to paw at the soft skin just above her waistline. Cathy squirmed but she wasn't going to stop him. She couldn't understand his sureness, but she felt she could let herself go in it. Just as she was getting more immersed, Tom suddenly stopped. He pulled back and looked at her face.

"Take off your clothes," he said, moving towards the wardrobe that was in the corner to the left of Cathy. She winced. The speed at which all of this was moving was not something she was at ease with. But she still didn't feel she could say no. As his head disappeared into the wardrobe, she debated whether she should obey his command. On one hand, this was making it too easy for him, but a part of her was denying the other option. She wanted this as well, didn't she? It had been that sort off a day. Just surrendering to what each moment wanted of her. So, this was what this moment was, it was time to strip.

She took of her jacket and hung it to a hook on the bedroom door. Tom stopped his rummaging to briefly peep as she began removing her top, then continued his search. She couldn't help but feel strangely neglected. Shouldn't he be watching her? Like a greedy little pig? He is getting what he asked for. Fuck it. She slid of her pants till only her underwear was in the way, and she quickly popped them both off so that she could be completely naked, completely compliant.

Cathy didn't feel particularly sexy. She had let herself go over the past few months. Her figure was still slim but she had developed love handles and her breasts felt a little saggy. But Tom, who had snuck another glance, seemed almost unperturbed by her bare form. He was still busy fiddling around in his wardrobe. The sound of things shifting around as he searched impatiently was making her even more nervous, as she just stood still, nude and still, till the rattling finally came to a stop and Tom popped his head out with a rope In his hands.

Cathy felt an odd sensation of shock mixed with her already precipitating anxiety. She had never been in this situation before and something told her that this wasn't a joke; Tom didn't seem the comedic type. "What's that for?""

"Sometimes, I like things to get a little kinky." said Tom, throwing the rope onto his bed and coming up right in front of her, he put his hand on the small of her back and pulled her waist towards him. His jeans now brushed against the skin of her crotch, her wispy netherhairs getting snagged against the fabric, causing her to flinch. Tom pushed his face up to hers, their noses now touching against each other's. Cathy's thoughts paused; she was waiting. But nothing happened; and she felt more awkward by the second. She leaned in for the kiss; but before she could make contact, Tom pushed from the pelvis, sweeping her of her feet and throwing her on the bed. Cathy could only see the ceiling before Tom got on top of her, his knees on either side of her legs, his body upright.

"Your clothes are still on," remarked Cathy, trying her best to be playful.

"Give me your hands," but Tom really wasn't asking, as he snatched both her hands and held them down with his right hand while he reached for the rope.

"Wait, what's going on?" exclaimed Cathy, but Tom ignored her, trying to figure out the rope with his one free hand.

"Stop. What the fuck? Get off me!"

Tom stopped moving, he just stared at her. But Cathy felt trapped, and she wasn't into the scene anymore.

"NOW. Get off now. "menaced Cathy. But Tom just looked her dead in the eye. Challenging her. But Cathy wasn't in the headspace for games. She propelled her right knee to his groin in a quick strike and Tom was dislodged effectively with a sharp "OW!!". Cathy got off the other side off the bed, and rushed to the chair on which she had hung her clothes. Tom was still on his back, on the floor, nursing his balls, watching her move with scorn on his face. Tom was back on his feet within a minute, but Cathy was already dressed by then.

"Wait. Don't go. I'm sorry about...." But Cathy just brought her finger to her lips, indicating that his explanation was done.

"Stay away from me. Freak." She quickly moved through the corridor as Tom tried to follow, she slammed the door open and slammed It shut behind her.

Tom leered at the door, the rejection he felt was burning out from his brain through to his skin. But he knew that it had always been a possibility. With his face towards the floor, he moved back to his room and allowed himself to fall on to his bed, his heart was beating and his head was heavy. He just wanted to sleep, but he didn't think he would get any. He removed his pack and lighter from his jacket and reached out to the bedside drawer to store them for the night. His eyes moved to his Glock, which had been lying unmoved in his drawer from the day he had bought it 6 months ago. He had told himself that it was for Self-Defence; the neighbourhood had been experiencing a rise in break-ins and burglaries for the last few years. But Tom had never been robbed.

His hand placed the pack and the lighter and moved over to the gun, the plastic feel of the grip sent a chill through his body as he slipped a finger into the trigger guard and lifted the loaded firearm. He brought the gun in front of his downturned and just observed it in his hand, turning it to see it from all the angles. He had never cleaned it like the guy in the store had told him to; he doubted it would even work properly in this condition.

"Well, today's as good a day as any." he thought, resigning some of the other ideas that had flashed before him as he held the gun in his hand. He went to the kitchen to grab a cloth that he laid on the bedside table and began to dismantle the gun and soon his mind was diverted away from the thoughts that had been circling within.

Cathy stepped out onto the pavement outside her apartment building and felt the fresh, clear morning air against her face, the only part of her that was exposed to the elements. It was the first time she had left her apartment in 3 days, and it was only because she run out of frozen meals and left-overs. She had felt dehydrated from all the crying, but now she was feeling better.

She wished she had someone to call but the only person she knew now was her sister, Anne, and they hadn't spoken since their parent died in the accident 2 years ago. Cathy had tried to reach out once before, when she been in a low place, but Anne's indifferent tone made Cathy feel like she was talking to a wall. She had never understood why her sister didn't like her, didn't care for her, but Cathy had always blamed herself, not showing her sister how proud she was of her. Anne had always done well at everything, school, college, relationships and now in her career. And no one could enjoy feeling inferior to their younger sibling, right? thought Cathy as she went up the sidewalk.