"Sure. And Rhona will skin me alive. You look like you're doing fine."
He stared clown at me and then smiled, looked back at the doorway, and started to squat. He brought his face so close to mine. I could smell the whiskey mixed with the sweat. It turned my stomach. He moved his tongue over his lips. Panic, like two giant hands, tightened a grip around my ribs, making it harder and harder for me to breathe.
"I was thinking about last night and how disappointed you must have been," he said.
"I wasn't disappointed. I was disgusted. Just like I am right now. Get away from me."
"You just asked me to help you. You don't know what you want, do you?"
"Yes. I asked you to untie me. Nothing else."
"You know. I have this theory about lesbians. They just don't know what they're missing, never having had it. Am I right or am I right?"
He poked me in the stomach with his right forefinger and I pulled back. Then he gripped my stomach with his thumb and forefinger and squeezed until I cried out.
"Hey, shut your mouth. You wake Rhona and there'll be hell to pay," he said, and looked back at the doorway.
"Leave me alone."
"Now that would be stupid and a total waste of an opportunity for you," he said. smiling.
Instinctively. I pushed myself as far away from him as I could by twisting and turning my body, until I was against the closet wall. He reached out and seized my ankles, turning and pulling me back. I started to scream but stopped when I saw his eyes go to the sock.
"Shout again and I'll stuff that deep into your throat," he threatened.
"Please, leave me alone."
"It's against my religion to pass up an opportunity to please a young woman." he said.
He pulled me more and then he lined himself up and put his arms around my thighs to lift me as he drew closer. I couldn't put up much resistence. This is going to happen. I thought. What good did it do to scream? Who would help me? All I can do is close my eyes and try to close my mind to it as well, maybe pretend to be somewhere else, somewhere pleasant and beautiful. My silence and my cessation of even the smallest resistence only encouraged him.
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"That's more like it. Now you're getting the idea." he said. "This is going to be an eye-opener for you. You'll never forget it."
Where had
I heard that before? I thought,
I felt his hardness move against me and looked at him, at the way he threw his head back, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open and for a moment, only a slight moment. I was intrigued by how much pleasure he expected he would have, even without my being willing. It occurred to me that he could be doing this with anyone, that emotions, affection, love didn't matter to him. Rhona probably didn't matter all that much to him either. He was with her only because of what she promised and what he saw he could gain for himself. In the end perhaps being gay or straight didn't matter as much as whom you were with and why you were with him or her. Everything we did in our lives could have little or no meaning, which was what I thought described Skeeter, or if we truly gave ourselves, invested our trust and love in someone else, could have deeper, lifelong meaning.
Was it too late for me? Would I be like him? Like Rhona? Would what he was about to do to me min my chances for any real happiness? Was that what he was taking from me? Or had I already lost it along the way during this journey that had brought me to this horrible moment?
"NO!" I cried, despite his threat if I wasn't quiet. "NO!" I cried for myself, my dreams and hopes, my faith in all that was possible and good in this life.
My cry took him by surprise. He had thought I had totally surrendered. My shout gave him pause, which was quickly turning to anger, but before he could do anything more, we both heard this most horrendous and shrill scream. He turned and fell back on his side and I had a clear view of the bedroom doorway in which Echo stood, her hands on her ears as though she could hear her own basic, desperate howl rising out of the depths of her own fear, instinctive and raw.
A moment later Rhona was right behind her looking in at us, her face in a rage with her eyes wide and her lips twisted,
"Skeeter!" she shouted. "You damn idiot. You fool. Look what you've done!"
"Huh?" he said, as if he was just awakening from a bout of sleepwalking. He looked at me and then at Echo, who was silent with her mouth wide open and her hands still on her ears, her neck straining. It had the effect of making us all feel as if we were the deaf ones, unable to hear her.
"Now she knows April's still here and she's seen what you're doing and what we did."
He shook his head. "I didn't... how could she hear her scream?" he demanded. as if somehow he had been cheated, as if someone had broken one of the rules.
"Does that matter now, you fool? Why did you come in here? Why did you have to do this? We're almost there."