I Am The Local Atheist (38 page)

Martin did
warn me when I got back from buying the phone off one of his
friends who was selling it cheap – somewhat convenient that he
should tell me after and not before, I thought! He basically
pointed out that I would eventually have to change to Telecom if I
thought that I would be making more txts than what my $20 is
getting me.

I now realise that all evil is housed in Vodafone
(
hello!! Did you not see what colour they
associate themselves with???
) while Telecom
remains a gentler minion and servant to the Dark Lord, caught
between the sympathy for humanity and still needing to please the
Master. Yes, while Vodafone preys on the foolish by depleting their
bank accounts, thus forcing them into continual labour to appease
their addiction and to satisfy the hunger of a society in need of
bodies to grind the wheel of urbanisation, Telecom takes the
simpler route and creates an addiction based on ‘value for money’,
all the time watching as many young adults in need of instant
communication feed a giant force that paves a way to hell with the
appearance of ‘freedom’, ‘value’ and pretty little catch-phrases
that create such a sense of security that not even driving in the
pitch-black of night can stop one of the followers from txting a
message and bringing fate that much closer to hurling all his
passengers into the abyss that is Satan’s final grip.

A Chronicle from the Distant Past

Right from the
outset I had practically admitted and owned up to the fact that I
was taking advantage of her – well, at least I did after I’d
already got her into bed with me (that, surprisingly enough, wasn’t
the hardest part). So she knew what I was up to. But she wanted to
be close to someone just as much as I wanted to be inside her, and
I knew that I could have what I wanted if I was willing to give her
what she wanted.

I almost had
it. I was this close [*indicates with thumb and finger*]! But
something had to get in the way didn’t it? Or should I say,
something had to interrupt!

Evil of all
evils.

Tears streamed
from her eyes puffed and red, sobbing mouth and trembling lips
caught the tears but made no effort to hold them; they fell to her
chin and eventually let go of that dangerous ledge, falling into
the dark abyss that was her arms lying so pale in her lap. And
every time a light flashed that private place beyond the stage, the
cubicle of seats and tables where the surrounding nightclub was
being ignored in favour of bottles of half finished RTDs, I saw the
‘little girl’ with snivelling nose who so desperately wanted to be
happy and so far away from all this pain that she was feeling.

I could point my finger and name the cause even as he sat far
away pretending to be oblivious to her pain, as though the bands
that crushed conversations were the only
thing
worth keeping his eyes
on.

But she wasn’t a
thing
.

I knew this.
And despite knowing this, I still couldn’t go beyond trivialising
her feelings and reducing her physical body to something that I
wanted a much closer connection to. Maybe that too, is what he
felt, over there, watching the bands as though he could only dream
of being a part of something so worthy of people’s attention.

I wanted her
attention, her warmth, her sweat; her hair on my chest, her lips on
my neck, her breasts against my skin, my cock inside her pussy –
nothing else. Just to be a part of this person who I had met only
moments ago and had been so willing in her drunken state to pour
her heart out to me, David, the sympathetic listener; the guy who
would console her in the harsh glare of red and pink lights and
conversation killing noise.

I asked her if
she wanted to leave now, but she had come to have a good time, so
through all her tears she ordered more drinks.

She did her
best to smile as the drinks arrived in front of her, she did her
best to choke them down as though they were the only thing that
could pull her away from this ledge so dark and cold; I lent her my
hand as something living to clasp a hold of, all the while knowing
that she would soon be just as willing to embrace me in the hugs
she gave away so freely. And each drink, each shot amidst
reflecting lights and crashes of sound, brought her closer to my
desperate desire so bored by the nightlife, so stressed by day-time
responsibility, so enamoured by beauty that offered an escape.

But when the
sobbing became too much, and the tears seemed impossible to
control, she accepted my promise of safety far away from all this,
and I helped her to stand and carried her weight beside me as
though that would have been too much for her own legs to carry. But
I was doing it all for myself, not for her legs, not to be
considerate or to ‘help’. I wanted nothing but to feel myself
inside her.

I took her to
my car, I drove her to my house; I said I didn’t think that she
should be alone. I helped her out of my car, walked her into the
house and into my bedroom where she collapsed under the weight of
her own sorrow. I convinced her to stay, as though being alone
would be the end of her and let her climb into my bed with her
dress still on.

“
It’s not all about Steve, y’ know.”

I didn’t even
know Steve, and I didn’t really care.

She let me
kiss her and put my hands over he body, gently pull down the straps
of her dress and undo her bra to reveal supple breasts that I could
cup in each hand. I teased her nipples and then brought my lips
down to kiss each one separately, worked my way back up to her
neck; each kiss a quiet contemplation on the beauty of her skin.
She praised my sensitivity – I praised her beauty.

She replied
with “No, its not true. Steve doesn’t want me… I must be ugly. He
said so himself. He’s not even attracted to me.”

I hated Steve, if this is what he had done to cause so much
pity in her. “You
are
beautiful” is all I had, and from then on in, I did my best to
take her thoughts away by drenching her body in a physical
high.

“
My parents hate me.”

“
Parents are weird” I said as I put my hands up her dress. “I’m
not a fan of mine either.”

“
That feels good.”

She wanted my
fingers up deeper inside her but I told her that she needed to take
her dress off completely. As she struggled to remove her clothing I
quickly removed my jeans and shirt and was completely naked as she
began to lie back down and fall directly into my arms. I looked her
in the eyes, stroked the hair back from her face, smiled and ran my
fingers up and down her neck, across her shoulders and down her
arm. When a smile broke apart her clenched lips and a laugh
betrayed the sorrow she had been feeling, she said “You’re a nice
guy.”

Hmph.
I smiled.

As our bodies
pressed and shaped each other in warmth, she looked at me and said
“I want to tell you about myself.”

“
Shhh,” I said. “I don’t need to know. You’re here to escape
everything and just relax and feel comfortable.

Her tearless
smile ravished me and I started working again. I wanted her body to
feel every inch of joy that it so desired.

This time I
used my lips as well as my spare hand (for the other hand was
wavering about in thin air as the arm it was attached to was being
crushed underneath her inconsiderate skull). Both took their time
and caressed gently, but the hand made its slow advances downwards
to the thighs and then between, in and out. And then just in. Her
back arched and she held me tight, my head at her chest. “More” she
cried, even dropping a hand to try to help get mine further in. My
fingers were deep inside her as she panted in irregular breaths,
like she was catching air in gulps and letting it out in sighs.

“
I’m going to do it with you.”

“
What?” for I was panting as well and was not too sure what she
had said.

“
I’m going to do it with you.”

That time I
heard it exactly and brought my eyes up to look directly into hers
as she grabbed a hold of my shoulders. “Okay then.”

“
I just need to go to the toilet.”

“
Sure, okay.”

She got up and
departed the room. I sat up somewhat pleased with myself. I decided
to go to the toilet as well, since my bladder hadn’t been emptied
at all since we had been at the nightclub. When I heard her flush
the toilet, I left the room and we passed in the hall, smiling at
each other’s naked bodies.

I returned,
only to find her picking up her cellphone from her bag and reading
a message that had been txted to her.

I could almost
sense the future creeping up behind me…

“
Who is it?” I asked.

Her lips began
trembling. “It’s Steve.”

…
like a bulldozer.

Her shoulders
began shaking. “He’s asking me how I am”. And down came the tears,
all over again!

FFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was this
[*indicates with thumb and finger*] close to fucking her!

Chapter 6:

Affirming the
Negative

Her name is
Lisa.

She looks at me now with the single intent of getting
information out of me – nothing more. As if that night three years
ago meant nothing to her. As if the following morning of sobering
up and confiding her terrible home life details to me hadn’t
provided her with a truly sympathetic ear. In fact, the more time I
spend with her, the more I feel as though she only got back in
touch with me because she was after information that she thought I
might possess, as if the last three years of knowing each other
weren’t something worth remembering, as if giving up the promise of
sex and resigning myself to the cradling of her body in my arms had
been someone else. But it wasn’t –
it was
me. And I still remember how I was the one you came to when you
needed to escape the yelling and screaming that echoed around the
walls of your home, how I was the one who let you cry on my
shoulder. Wasn’t I the one who gave you something new in your life
that replaced the old routine of waking to an empty silence? Did I
receive thanks for bringing you that? Where are my hugs? Where are
my touches of affection that you so happily supply your new-found
friends with?

Why do I care so much?
I don’t even
like her that much. Yes, she’s attractive, but hadn’t she always
seemed a little presumptuous? And determined to the point where
determination became so self involving? Lisa had seemed so obsessed
with Serene Gilligan’s suicide of late that everything else just
didn’t seem to matter to her anymore.

She threw her
folders onto the kitchen table. “I have more information. Listen
and see if you can confirm anything.” This time around she wasn’t
as excited as she had been about her discoveries in the past. Kinda
like she knew something but was keeping it to herself.

“
I don’t really feel like discussing this today.”

“
Why? What have you been doing?”

“
Getting away with injuring with intent to injure.”

She opened her
mouth wide. “It feels good doesn’t it?”

“
To get away with it?”

She clasped
her hands together with a mischievous grin on her face and
nodded.

I looked at
her evenly remembering how their hands had been brutal while
shoving me into the back of the car, even though I had shown no
signs of resistance. “Yeah it does.”

The cop
driving the car was constantly looking back at me through the
rear-view mirror.

I wanted to
ask him if he had an eye problem but I thought it best not to
antagonise the situation.

“
Ain’t you the kid who burned that cross last year?”

Shit, I didn’t
know what to say. ‘That kid’? I shrugged my shoulders like it had
meant nothing to me, “Yeah. Who are you?”

“
I was the sergeant who had to report on the
incident.”

“
Was it an incident worth reporting?”

He laughed.
“Fuckin’ Christians! Get so uptight about everything, don’t
they?”

I returned his
gaze but without much enthusiasm.

“
How’s y’ life been these days, apart from beating heads
in?”

“
Can’t complain I guess.” I was expecting the cop to say
something else but he didn’t. All of a sudden I felt the need to
say what I felt. “Though barely anyone I knew spoke to me for
almost a year. Some have finally deemed it okay to talk to me
again.”

That really
set the other cop off: “Shit! Fuckin’ hypocrites. Ain’t they
supposed to forgive you no matter what your crime? Man, I’m so sick
of these people saying all this shit about forgiveness and then
they go and shit all over their own kind because of their
mistakes…”

Okay, so I heard all that, but I wasn’t really listening to
catch the rest. I was just wondering if he would be so forgiving if
I decided to burn something valuable in
his
house. Walk in the front door,
read a passage from the Bible – or maybe for him, his Police code
of ethics (if such a thing exists!) – pick up a cherished and
valued photo of his wife and burn that. Would
you
forgive me for that buddy?
Would you?