…i rise, cross to the bed and lie beside her. roll easily onto her bare form, pinning her with my weight; slipping in only so much, no more: slow, softly insistent strokes leading to the familiar abyss.
impatient, she arches tautly up from the bed, seeks to grasp me. i smile into her eyes. my hands -hard edged from years of labor – rough her flesh, twist her stiffened points, slap her flanks until she loses the rhythm, pain and pleasure commingling into something else…and then start again with the short strokes. what were we drinking anyway? tuaca i believe…wait: were?
Agent 1: Bloody hell, I wish he’d twitch or something. He just lies there. I mean, it’s been a week.
Agent 2: The Puzzle Palace said he may not make it back – the headshrinker over there says that a lot of people only get through torture…er, water-boarding by disassociating themselves.
Agent 1: Shit (followed up by a lugie hawked across the room). Disassociate from what – the Elks? (and laughs at his great humor.)
Agent 2: No, you imbecile, from themselves. They go someplace in their head where the torture…water-boarding isn’t happening. Maybe he went back to a time as a child where he visited his favorite grandmother for Christmas and she gave him a puppy. I don’t know. What I DO know is the Doc says some of them don’t ever come back. Or do, but not all the way.
Agent 1: Crap. I thought he was talking to you while I was putting the equipment in the van – what happened?
Agent 2: I don’t know. One moment he was cussing me out and the next, he just fell out, his eyes rooled back and he collapsed on the bed. Weirdest thing I ever saw.
Agent 1: So, what – we wait until he comes around? What if he doesn’t?
Agent 2: We just wait.
Agent 1: How long?
Agent 2: Until they tell us not to.
Agent 1: Fuck.
Agent 2: Yeah. Like that.
They listen to a train whistle, not at all lonesome. Kind of cheery, in fact. The form on the cot doesn’t move.
Agent 1: I hear OIG is sniffing around.
Agent 2: Someone’s ass if so.
They think about that.
Agent 1: How many years you got?
Agent 12 Twenty five – I go next January.
Agent 1: Lucky bastard.
Agent 1: Maybe so. Some spades?
Agent 1: Yeah – let me find the cards.
tuaca? or maybe it was just apple jack. so hard to…remember…