“I would have had to kill him,” he said. “Would you have wanted that?”
“Did you see who it was?” Her voice came out a little unsteadily.
“Just some man. Nobody I recognized from my surveillance. A neighbor perhaps? A salesman? The cable guy?”
“I wasn’t going to do anything.”
“That may be true, but I couldn’t know that. It would have been bad for everyone if you had.”
“Do you ever have to wait in line?”
He looked confused. “What?”
“I just wonder if you ever spend a minute not being in control, in charge.”
“Of course. That’s why I make the most of it when I am.”
“Perfect.”
“And now somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re wondering if that man will have second thoughts, maybe think something was wrong, maybe come back to investigate, or call someone. It’s not very likely. You go out of town at least once a month for a couple of days at a time. There’s no reason anyone would assume this isn’t one of those times.”
She lay her head down gently on the floor.
“Hey,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
He looked at her carefully. There was nothing like an unexpected hope taken all-too-quickly away to demoralize a person. He let her weep for a few minutes, as he sat there watching. His face was still.
She stopped after a very few minutes. When he was finished with her, he knew, she would cry and not be able to stop.
“Look on the bright side,” he said, cheeringly. “Maybe that guy was a criminal, maybe he was checking to see if you were out so he could break in. Maybe he would have waited for you to return and then attacked you. And unlike me, he wouldn’t really know what he was doing. And you’d get terribly hurt.”
“Thank goodness you were here to stop him,” she said, the words coming out a little thickly at first.
“I wish, for your own sake, you would give up,” he said.
“I wish, for my own sake, that I could,” she replied.
“If you would accept the fact that this is the worst thing to ever happen to you, then maybe you could.”
“But it isn’t,” she said simply and put her head back down on the floor.
He waited a while, but she didn’t say anything more.
“Tell me,” he said finally.
“Is there something you need from me?”
“I don’t need it, but I’d like it. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind taking the opportunity to minimize what I’m doing here.”
“Not really.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Untie me.”
He grinned. “Ok.”
He removed the cuffs and allowed her to sit up. Rubbing her wrists, she scooted back until she was leaning against the sofa, further away from him.
“You think you’re going to teach me about powerlessness, but that’s a lesson I’ve already learned,” she said quietly. “That’s what makes this so hopeless and ridiculous.”
“It’s funny,” he said. “You sound older.”
That made her smile. “Right now I don’t have power, but you do. But is it so hard to imagine a situation where neither of us has any, where nobody does?”
He thought.
“Try in a hospital. An oncology ward. A pediatric oncology ward. Who has power there?” she asked.
“When was this?” he asked.
“Seven years ago,” she said. “Lucky seven,” she said with no smile.
“Who was it?” he asked.
“My son,” she said. “Lucky seven again.”
“He was seven when he died?”
“Yes.”
“How long was he sick?”
“Two years,” she said.
“He was your only child?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Why did you tell me this? Don’t you think I’ll just use it against you?”
“Really? How does that go? ‘Hey, you bitch, you think you can withstand me? A woman who couldn’t even keep her own child alive?’ I don’t know. I don’t see that being a very effective tack. I’ve already used it plenty myself.”
“Do you think I’ll feel sorry for you now?”
“I think you’ve offered ample evidence that you feel nothing but the urge to power. Sympathy or empathy would be beyond you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Really.”
“I do feel sorry for you,” he said.
“Oh.”
“No, I’m kidding,” he said. “No, I’m not.”
“Funny.”
“Why didn’t you kill yourself?”
“Now that
is
a funny question.”
“How so?”
“Oh. It just is.” She smiled to herself then.
“How about answering it?”
“I thought about it,” she said seriously. “I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. There were reasons, I thought, for staying alive. Or maybe I’m just one of those animals that just can’t give up, no matter what. You know what I mean? It’s not rational. It’s just this fundamental, primal need to be alive. Not everybody feels that. Some people can be very rational.” She paused a moment. “I suspect you’re probably like me. You’ll have to be dragged, kicking and screaming. Even if life makes no sense at all.”
“Probably,” was all he said.
“Well,” she said. “Sorry to be such a bummer. But I’m sure you’ll shake it off very quickly, and soon find another way to rape and/or humiliate me.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
“Isn’t it thrilling to get to know me better?”
“You have no idea.”
“So why don’t you tell me
your
most painful memory,” she suggested.
“It hasn’t happened yet.”
“Huh?”
“It will be when I’m no longer here, like this, with you.”
“That’s so sweet,” she said, acidly.
“Maybe you
are
the one,” he said, ignoring her. “You understand about pain. I’ll give you more, and you’ll take it. And I’m beginning to wonder where this will end.”
“With you breaking me. Isn’t that what you said all along?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’d happily spend the rest of my life doing it.”
“Let’s hope,” she said, with a nasty grin.
“Let’s,” he agreed, but not really.
And he looked at her and licked his lips and brought his body over to hers.
It wasn’t because of what they did for a living. Neither one of them ever thought they were being punished for that. They had seen too much of what could loosely be called unfairness in the world to think that people were punished for the things that they did. Plenty of people died, but not because they were being punished. And plenty of people lived who had no right to, based on the things they had done. It didn’t work that way. She knew people who thought it should and people who thought it did, but she knew that it didn’t. You could stop the worst offenders sometimes, but that was about it. And in the course of it, you’d probably commit a few sins yourself. As they did.
They knew it was just the crazy luck of the draw. It could have been her or him, or the neighbor. Instead it was their son. Outside of their work, they lived a normal life. And this was normal too. That sometimes people got sick.
Not that he was dying the whole time. At least, they didn’t know that he was. He came back after the first bout. For several months, he was fine. Weaker, yes. More precious, of course. But they thought they had him back. That’s what they thought. Foolishly, as it turned out. Maybe that was the worst part, if they had to choose. It was so short a time. Not years, like some people had. Not forever, like the lucky ones. Just five months, before he got sick again. And they all knew. Even though they all went through the motions. They all tried really hard. But they all knew. Because he was an extraordinary boy, who, like his parents, always saw things the way they were, not the way he wanted them to be. That was the gift they shared. Or the curse. No illusions. And some people might have thought that was sad. But it wasn’t. You don’t need illusion to love. That’s what they proved. Patience and understanding and a sense of humor and the ability to appreciate. You didn’t need to pretend.
So they didn’t lie to each other. The boy and his mother cried often. He tried to be tough, but he was just a little boy. The father did not cry at all. His gray eyes were always clear and steady. But then, he was the one who had killed, and that makes a person different.
“Did you ever watch a show called
Profit
?” she asked in a tired voice. They were on the bed now again. He had carried her there before forcing her onto her hands and knees and assaulting her doggie-style. She was lying prone now, collapsed under his weight because he hadn’t moved off of her yet.
“Profit? With an F or a PH?” he asked.
“An F. I think. Yeah. An F.”
“Why do you ask?” He lifted himself partially off of her body and started to stroke her upper back and neck. His penis was still hard because he hadn’t come. After a few seconds, he turned her over, sat on her pelvis and began to massage her breasts. She showed no reaction.
“You remind me of him, I think.”
“Do tell.” He continued what he was doing.
“He was pure evil. But he operated in a corporate environment. And he just destroyed the people in his way. He understood how people worked, and he took advantage of that.”
“Where was this?”
“It was a TV show.”
“I never saw it.”
“Nobody did. The world wasn’t ready for it. That’s for sure. There were maybe five or six episodes shown. But it was amazing. I happened to catch it.”
He leaned over now and then to lick her nipples, but she resolutely did not notice it.
“He was inhuman. Like me,” he said.
“No, he was human, like you. And even though he was terribly wealthy and had this amazing apartment, at night when he went to bed, he curled up in a big, old cardboard box. That’s where he slept.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m not too sure; it was a long time ago that I saw this. I think it was because that was how he had grown up. Nobody had taken care of him. Like a wolf. But in a box.”
“Uh huh.”
“I think you must be something like that.”
“Really.”
“Not a wild animal. A very controlled animal. I mean, you’re not a raving psycho. You
like
to be bad. Or maybe it’s just your preferred method for getting what you want. Why is it you want to be so bad if you’re smart enough that you don’t have to be?”
“And his name was Profit?”
“It was a secret what his real name was. That’s the one he used. I think.”
“Can you even imagine that a person could
not
be interested in analyzing himself?”