The Octopus-Man breathes me in with tendrils at play. Oh – my lover, my paramour-supreme do not tempt me to lose myself in girlish voyages as you loosen my dress with those effective appendages. How can I not sigh? He is so skilled. I dare not question now of his lovers past for I too have them – a serial of no-names, entities of stands (one-nighters minus the poetic) and brief intimacies are on my checkbook of amorousness. He might occupy whores and quickies but I do too. Maybe our frequencies might be the bridge; he being younger than I.
My clothes off and I ward off the evil (hehe) of his clothes (and they think I am a prune) – let’s cut to the chase – we do it and it’s great.
I thought the moon would be out tonight but he probably didn’t do these kinds of preferences and we were still diving into our ocean of ecstasies.
Afterwards – he might leave but I will be happy. I can feel his love for me.
“ And did you sleep well?” he grinned and I almost blushed, “ I meant…” he blushed too, “ I meant last night it rained.”
“ Really, no wonder there was no moon out.”
“ Yes. I bet you fell asleep before me.”
“ Naturally.” I blush.
He casually, “ Do you dream well?”
“ Only if I have to…” we giggle.
“Olivia, the villagefolk are quite a nuisance…”
“ What happened…?”
“ The other day a man was muttering about how I carry myself around inappropriately with married women.”
“ It might have been Ted. Don’t worry Marcus – he always snoops around where he has no business – besides what we do, has nothing to do with him.”
“ Yes but still – as I am visiting – you get it right – I am already the foreigner – I can’t risk becoming an outsider too…”
“ Oh please – you are a good student…”
“ They won’t buy that Olivia…”
“Please Marcus forget about them – let’s talk about us.”
Marcus, dear Marcus – when you smile – it really makes my day: “ Olivia, I am still uncertain about this.”
“ Don’t be…” I grin, “ Aren’t you a student and isn’t it my job to teach you?”
He laughs, so sweetly, “ God – there should be more people like you around Olivia.”
I grin and respond with my best: “Naturally.”
“ To me Marcus is an Octopus.”
“ If your husband caught you saying much on him –“
“ Please Cindy – let me have my Octopus-man…”
“ But even if he is a brilliant college student naturally he will leave and go back to where he is coming from.”
“ Cindy – I just want the Octopus-man and me to last…” the thought of losing this was unbearable. Though I know it would be lost…
“ You sure give them strange nicknames but I understand; your husband –“
“ – Is someone we don’t need to talk about.” I smiled, “ You don’t want him to know right?”
Cindy looked at me, perturbed, “ Olivia – you haven’t told him yet…”
“ No.” I casually state it. In fact, it was really none of her business.
“ But Olivia –“
“ Cindy, let’s just do our grocery shopping.”
“ I don’t know Olivia – I think you are treading in dangerous waters.”
I smile, “Naturally.”
There’s a piano in the room. With lovely wood polish; it looks vintage but it scents are quite fresh. Wood can do that to you. I can feel myself at comfort here – drinking lemon tea. It’s too hot nor else we would be sitting out back – she has a nice garden. There are some roses there. They remind me of the lush roses featured in Chiho Saito’s manga and anime called Revolutionary Girl Utena. Though they are only small pots and not an estate or a large body like in that show but they are red. Some are yellow and some pink and some white. She has other flowers too. Very pretty. My South Asian friend, Aidan, had a garden. It was actually his mother’s and she had many sunflowers and marigolds there. And bougainvillea. She does not have marigolds and bougainvilleas but she has sunflowers. Sweet and thick yellow with that budding brown centre – almost like a house in a middle of a ripe crop field. Very beautiful. Now that the rain had come they are enriched with the remnants of the dews – like bathed beauties they are sunning themselves in the tropic-like beach the village is to the eye.
I love villages.
“ I see you love my flowers…” she looked really pleased. You can see them from her due to her large glass doors – which were actually a part of a greater pair of wooden doors – which were a second layer. Like flowers buds they protected her home at night I guessed.
“ Yes I do.” I smile.
“ You are a romantic college boy aren’t you Marcus?”
“ I’ve always loved flowers Olivia. You have nice Bird Of Paradises too.” Then I looked, “ You have white roses and also white chrysanthemums as well.”
“ It’s hard to grow them.” She smiled at me as she sits down with her own tea, “ But that’s life – possessing challenges…” she laughs, “ I guess I love overcoming challenges.”
“ That’s very brave Olivia…” I comment, “ You are not like the other wives that I met here.”
“ Careful.” She snickers, “ Don’t want Ted to hear that now.”
“ I guess that he is a bit conservative isn’t he?” I looked wearily at her.
“ Oh, not only a bit – a lot my dear, he is also very religious.”
“ That’s ok I guess.”
“ He goes to church every Sunday.” Olivia’s eyes sparkled, “ And he hates me ‘cause I am not a frequent church-goer.”
“ Hate is a tad bit too strong a word don’t you think?” I asked with uncertainty.
“ No my dear Marcus…” she sips her tea and casually state it as if going through a home magazine, “ The man hates many people. That’s why he never liked my husband much either – thinks he’s a bad Christian.”
“ I suppose your husband doesn’t care.” I laugh, “ I have a good friend Aidan, he’s from Kolkata, he was a good Muslim but not conservative. In fact, he had many friends who used to sleep around.”
“ Naturally.” The way she looked at me made me blush. There’s no need for her to…nevermind.
“ But actually,” I continued, “ He had a great garden. Well his mother did and he helped.”
“ So, you’ve been to Kolkata?” there was a deep sparkle in her eyes. Like a child’s. I liked this a lot about her. It reminded me of something special. Naturally. I stifled my laughter. “Oh, how men are so lucky that they can travel!”
“ Well, I guess in small villages both men and women are not encouraged to travel…” I told her my assumption, “ I guess elders want their beliefs and traditions intact.”
“ Well you are right about that…” she looked displeased.
“ But Aidan and his sister travelled a lot…” I told, “ They has a large garden – in fact there were bloody hibiscuses there – drooping their long necks like drowsy flowers. As red as your roses.”
“ Drowsy flowers!” she looked fascinated, “ You love flowers this much Marcus?”
“ Well, yes…” I told.
“ Yes,” she sipped quietly now, “ Bloody flowers aren’t they…?”
“ The roses…?” I looked at her.
“ Yes, those bloody roses…” she sipped, “ So pretty as if they were in a slaughterhouse…”
“ Uh…” the analogy was a bit too intense. Too violent. Yet strangely coherent. “ Is slaughterhouse a – I mean it’s a good source of bloody…” I giggle, “ But, are they pleasant…to you…?”
She looked at me with a smile, “ No. Why would you think that?”
“ You said –“
“ I’m sorry…” she looked upset, “ Blood reminds me of bad memories.”
“ Oh, I’m sorry Olivia.”
“ And traveling too – have I always told you I always wanted to travel?”
“ Uh, no – but I figured by your excitement.” I smiled, trying to cheer her up.
“ My son is away now. I miss him dearly.”
“ By son you mean –“
“ Stepson – remember him, Ash, I told him about you…” Olivia looked at me with a pain I couldn’t identify with. I wanted to learn more.
“ Yes – but you never mentioned much about –“
“ He left the village.”
“ Oh.”
Olivia started to sob, “ He is so selfish like his father. I always thought he would take care of me.”
“ I understand Olivia.” I had gotten up and put an arm around her, “ Don’t be sad. You are a strong girl and you can take care of yourself.”
“ But Marcus…” she sobbed, “ One day I’ll become older then what…?” she looked so sad, “ Who’s going to take care of me then?”
“ Some people take a longer time to think things through…” I explained, “ I know he isn’t going to desert you – I think you’d always been a good mother to him.”
“ Yes…” she smiled, “ I tried to.” But then she glared, “ But, his father…” she sounded like she was growling in anger, “ He always used to give him a hard time…”
“ Yes – you kind of did mention your husband…” And what she said made him be branded as a jerk-off,
“ Where is he? I don’t see him around.” I don’t think I even wanted to meet him.
“ Probably loafing around…” she scowled, “ He’s a drunk you know – a useless drunk – my son Ash used to be so glum around him. He never got to talk or else he would get hit.”
“ He hit you too didn’t he?” I looked at Olivia – God, what a sad state.
“ Now he doesn’t bother anymore…” she sobbed, “ He never bothered with me but the last few days he’s acted that I never existed.”
I am livid, “ What a bastard!”
“ Well, he is sleeping with someone else you know… I bet this is isn’t his first infidelity.”
“ Well Olivia… You’ve got better things to do.”
“ Naturally.” She smiles. I think something is growing between us.
“ I hope it rains more…” I smile, “ It’s be a good excuse to come and visit…”
“ The garden…” she giggles.
“ Yes, the scent of flowers after the rain…” my eyes close on their own. Such a sweet memory.
I feel her looking at me. I can feel a smile on her face.
Wind comes.
Reminds me of hibiscus-heads drooping but suddenly awakened
Like a rain hysterically shouting with thunder we kiss and mate. I feel him in me. He is quick with his thrusts and I am quick with my own – accompanying with hips. I cry out as I remember that sweet compliment he gave me of my garden. I wonder what other sweet comments would follow. This swaying of ours. Like those bloody hibiscuses he spoke off. But I feel rose-bloody-red like catching fire in moonlight white hot flame but burning red.
I cry out again. I can feel him calling me and telling me how’d he make things better. I was so happy.
I feel I can be with him forever.
Though when he has to leave…
“ Marcus, when I woke – I saw you made breakfast.”
“ Yes.” He smiles, “ I figured you were tired.”
Of course, why wouldn’t I be? I giggle and smile, “ You’re so thoughtful.”
“ Did your husband come back. ‘Cause I ain’t serving him breakfast.”
“ No, don’t worry…” I look at the poached eggs and loaves of bread, “ He will probably eat at his mistress’s house.”
“ I had a feeling.” He laughed with a cruel condescension, “ I had thought though that he was passed out in the living room so, he didn’t notice my presence…”
“ Even if he did…” I casually told him as we were eating, “ He wouldn’t care. I told you how he doesn’t bother anymore.”
“ Well, ok…” he ate and looked outside into the garden, “ I have to go out today Olivia. You know I am a student. I must finish something if I begin it.”
“ Naturally.”I look at him. I knew he will leave… “ When you come back we will have tea out in the garden ok?"
“ I talked to Mrs. Hutchens today…” I told him casually, the man had offered me tea but I told him another time – for I had other plans.
He was good enough to not take this as an insult but told me to have some lemonade – on the house.
“ Well, Mrs. Hutchens is a sad one too.”
“ Well, she told me that her husband settled down in the big city with some hot blonde.”
“ You don’t know the half of it Marcus…” he was wiping a glass, it was kinda slow, I only saw a young boy eating blueberry cake by himself, looked like a High School student. “ She burned her husband’s car and screamed at his lawyer – almost chased him away with a butcher’s knife. It was actually Olivia and Mrs. Park that stopped her alright. It was quite horrible. I feel bad for Annie – her husband was the whole world to her.”
“ Well that’s how selfish some people are…” I finished the lemonade.
“ How’s Olivia? Is she doing well?”
“ Well, she’s fine.” I told him.
“ Well, well – college boy is here today Arty…” I heard a familiar voice, “ So, aren’t you supposed to be busy…”
“ Leave the boy alone Ted.” Arty looked sour and I decided to leave.
“ Hey wait Mr. College.” Ted caught my tee, “ What are you shameless – staying with Olivia Tiding – she’s got a son you know –“
“ I don’t think Olivia has any problem.” I realized his grip, “ Besides, it’s her house.”
“ You think I don’t know what you two are doing in there?!” Ted snarled.
“ I told you to leave the boy alone Ted!” Arty got in between us, “ The boy is still a visitor in our village and you best talk to him with respect.”
“ What visitor – do you see - him visiting all the married women – I tell you how these city boys are – they want to sleep with country girls and boast about it. He went to Annie today and we all know how vulnerable she is after her husband leaving her! You can’t trust a boy like him that’s for sure!”
“ I’m leaving – see you later Arty…”
“ Oh, you are back!” she greets me, “ What’s the matter?” she has seen my expression.
“ Let’s just say I met Ted.” I was so pissed off at that guy.
“ Well Screw him…” Olivia smiled, “ Whatever he said our little tea-party will cheer you up – and guess what? I plan on planting some Freesias– I think you’ll enjoy them.”
“Naturally.” Then I start giggling; I’ve been spending too much time with her – this was so unexpected but it blossomed well.
She giggles too. I think she understands.
It’s good if she does.
We are out now. We have been admiring the beauty of the garden. Despite our proximities we have not been close enough. Maybe in other ways, but, not always through words; I think the episode about the husband and stepson would not have even come out without the mentioning of blood and slaughterhouse.
“ The first time he’d given me a flower was during my first menstruation.”
I almost spit out the tea I was drinking, “Excuse me…excuse me…but what did you say…?”
“ He was courting me since I was fourteen.” She began sipping her tea with that casualness given to magazine-flipping, “ Many would say it was illegal – even his first wife knew – but that bitch was leaving him so it was not her business to stand in and do what’s right.”
“ Y-you were talking about flowers…?”
“ Well yes, the first time I had my period – he had given me a red Chrysanthemum and told me I was becoming like a real woman.” She still sipped the tea, “ I was so stupid and naïve then that I thought how my girlfriends would envy me – their boyfriends never did these kind of novel things for them!” she made a face, it conveyed disgust, “ I had no idea what he was really thinking…”
“ And what was that…?” I was swallowing the tea – gulping – my nervousness increasing.
“ That how stupid I was…” her eyes were dark – dead-like, sparkle gone, “ And how easy it was to fuck me and make me his slave…” she grew angry, “ I could have killed him then if I had known…he was a bastard then and even now…”
“ Didn’t anyone in your family know…?” this was serious, “ Try to stop you…”
“ Not really.” She looked down, “ I had a father and a mother who had thought it was best I marry him…he lived in a quiet village and they thought the hustle and bustle of city-life would take away my values and morals…” she laughed, “ Good thinking I must say…”
“ But he was older than you and he had a son!” this was preposterous, “ Surely, they didn’t – I mean – surely, they didn’t know the whole story…”
“ No my dear Marcus…” she sipped her tea, her hand hard on the cup, as if she was about to break it,
“ They knew more than me…they just thought an older man would make a fine babysitter – they were trash and they will always be trash…”
“ Oh God…” I felt miserable.
“ You are so good and innocent…” she was looking right at me, “ The world does not think like you Marcus…the world is quite cruel…”
“ I am really sorry…”
“ Do you pity me?”
“ No – I just – I just feel for you…”
That was all I was capable of saying.
“ You know, at least Ash didn’t turn out like his father...” she looked up at the sky, “ He was always an intelligent and understanding person…”
I looked at her. She looked like she was in a daze.
I clutch my chest. My naked breasts are freezing. A nightmare. From an ecstasy to a tragedy of thought. I looked next to me. He was still asleep. He sleeps quite heavily. I touch his pretty face. I shouldn’t have talked about my husband with him. My College boy – why am I doing this to you?
I should tell him everything.
No – maybe not yet.
I sleep next to my boy. He mumbles in his sleep as always.
Too bad he doesn’t know anything.
“ Are these all his books?” I asked extremely happy; the sight of books thrill me.
“ Yes – unlike his father – Ash loves to read…” she smiles but then with a sad tone, “ You know he wanted to destroy these books - my husband – he always hated the fact that Ash was different than him.”
“ You mean not a loser.” I grin.
“ Yes.” She laughs.
“ Oh, The Handmaid’s Tale…” I take it out as she has allowed me to read the books, “ One of Atwood’s finest…”
“ You like reading don’t you...?” she asked.
“ Well…yes…”
“ You like short stories…?”
“ Yes, I do.”
“ You know I used to live in London once…”
“ Really…?”
“ Well, yes…when I was around eleven years old…my father used to work with my Uncle there for three years before we came back and I recall that once I was preparing for Ordinary Level Examinations…and I picked up my love for short stories there – have you ever read The Landlady?”
“ No – I think I’ve heard of it…”
“ It’s one of my favourite short stories – it’s by Roald Dahl – it’s about a Landlady…”
“ Does it involve her sleeping with her tenants…”
“ Well then it would be quite necrophilic…” she giggles.
I look at her.
“ Have you read The Darling by Scott Bradfield?”
“ Yes, I read that one…” I looked at her smiling face, “ How she kills her father…quite what he deserves…”
“ Yes, Men like him deserve that…”
Her voice and eyes had a dark humour which I had not seen before. They were a bit more focused than her ‘sparkle’ moments and very deeply trance-like…” I suppose you like William Faulkner?”
“ Oh yeah Barn Burning…” I smile at the nostalgic feeling, “ You know I did that in my English class and my –“
“ Have you read A Rose For Emily…?”
“ Uh,...yeah I have…”
“ That’s one of my favourites too…”
Her dark humour eyes looked at me.
I looked at her.
“ When my husband used to hit me – I used to read those stories…”
“Oh…”
“ They used to make me feel a lot better…”
I looked at her dark humour eyes. They were glowing.
I can hear her footsteps at night. She might think I am sleeping but I can hear her. Is she a somnambulist? Is she awake?
Today – I was for the first time – disturbed.
That dark humour in her eyes and all those twisted tales.
I think I can feel noises, hear them – outside.
They sound so inhuman. They sound like weeping.
Was she crying?
I had a feeling he was awake when I sometimes walked at night.
Funny, I had left him sleeping.
But the glass doors must be opened. I look at the roses. Red, soaking – like my first menses. Like the first time I saw blood on Ash’s shoulder. That bastard had beaten him bad that time.
Oh – the moon is finally out.
It has risen beautifully.
As though after a long coma it has regained itself.
I find myself in that silver circle of the night.
“Do you wanna hear something?”
“ What? Music?”
“ Well, no…” I told him, “ Marcus – I had written this for my teacher…remember The Landlady? Well, that story was part of a past O’ Level Question paper…we had to answer questions about it… I just remembered that detail when you told me you studied Barn Burning in your first semester. Well you know in O’Levels how there is an essay section…?”
“ Yeah, Aidan told me – he did O’ Levels…”
“ Right – so there was an option that I could write something like a story that resembled the dark nature of Dahl’s original…”
“ But weren’t you too young to do your O’ Levels at eleven…?”
“ Well I just did past question papers for fun as an extra credit assignment for my teacher…” She smiled.
“ Wow that’s impressive…you must be real smart Olivia…” he grinned.
It was during these moments that an inconsolable despair was felt by me concerning him…he only here for two weeks and the fact he would leave paralyzed me with fear – did he have to leave…? …Staying was unnecessary for him…a college boy with a college fling…these things happen…these things were bound to happen…
“ Well, did you write a story then…?”
“ Yes - The question was The Horrible Truth of Mrs. Philpot’s Cellar – and I decided to write about it… do you wanna hear it…?”
“ Yeah sure…”
“ Ok here goes: Mrs. Philpot lived alone in a wild-looking cottage. She kept mostly to herself. This is what Billy was told. Billy News was the news of his town and his parents could not carry the shame. Arrangements had been made and Billy, though he didn’t want to, had to go to the country. He was to be live with a distant relative who was Mrs. Philpot. Mrs. Philpot was a widow and she seemed kind enough and Billy’s days with Mrs. Philpot were normal.
“ One night Billy got up to some screams. As they stopped suddenly, he thought he was dreaming them. After a while he felt Mrs. Philpot opening his door. She had made sure Billy was asleep. The next morning Billy acted normally though he was a bit frightened. Did he really hear a scream? That must be so because Mrs. Philpot never checked on him like that before. He started going over the rules. He had always felt Mrs. Philpot was strict. She always wanted him to go to bed early and keep away from her room unless absolutely necessary. She also told him not to go down the cellar. Of course, Billy thought it was because he heard how her late husband loved wine and kept heaps down there. As he drank sometimes with his friends he decided to keep away from the cellar. He already had heaps of problems. That night he decided to break the rules.
“ He walked down the to the cellar. It was dark so he brought a flashlight. He almost hit something. It was a corpse – red and glaring – looked like some parts of the body had been eaten. He wanted to vomit. The sight and smell made him disgusted. Then he felt something behind. It was wet. He looked around and saw more fresh bodies. Suddenly he heard Mrs. Philpot saying ‘What are you doing here? Oh no matter…I was annoyed by you anyway…” and with that she started chopping at him with a butcher’s knife. Grinding his flesh as if she was making pie. The next day Mrs. Philpots had stake and she spoke ‘Sweet Billy…you taste better than you behave…’ The End.”
Marcus looked unsteady. I…I hope I hadn’t frightened him…but then I confessed it: “ You know I wrote this when I felt like killing my parents…”
Marcus looked so alarmed suddenly, “ You did…?”
“ Yes, because they only cared about themselves…”
++
“ How have you been Marcus – the project going well?”
“ Yes, it’s fine – I think it’ll finish soon: ‘Women and Aspirations: Do Stereotypes Prevail?’ My research taught me that many housewives love to do things that aren’t stereotypical.”
“ Will you miss Olivia?”
“ Naturally…” I laugh as I realize I am sounding like her. Using the words like her: it can happen as she had a unique way about things. Though she creeped me out still – a lot. Those dark humoured eyes.
“ Don’t let Ted get to you…Olivia doesn’t have…entirely a spotless reputation in our village…and her husband let’s not talk about him…all we know is that her husband married her from the city and that he bought her here…they had a bad marriage from the beginning…then Ash used to always look up to her…they were almost the same age…I mean Ash grew up a bit with his biological mother then he was sent to live with his father…you know the only person who truly loved him was Olivia…”
“ Yeah she loves him still Arty…that’s why she’s so upset that he won’t come back…”
Art looked at me, “ It’s best if Ash doesn’t come back…”
“ Why Arty?” I questioned him, “ He’s the only family Olivia has…”
“ Well – everyone condemns her but they are a bunch of hypocrites they know what her husband –“
“ Listen Arty I know her husband. It’s a good thing I didn’t meet him yet. I mean c’mon the guy practically spends his entire day with his mistress and expects Olivia to feed him – he’s a useless asshole and I hope he gets what’s coming to him!”
Arty looked at me, “ Marcus I need to talk to you…”
At night I was sleeping and I felt a great burden upon my body. I couldn’t wake up though I wanted to. I felt the weight and the horrible feeling of being pinned down. Being helpless: it hurt…
I was sure now. It must that bastard Ted. It had to be him. He was always after me. The feeling was deepening as if fingernails were digging into my shoulders. I yelped a bit and the fingers seemed to be removed. I felt wet on my face and lips.
When I woke up in the morning I realized what a bad dream I was having. I was scared but I had to meet Arty.
I heard Olivia from the kitchen singing and cooking.
I still want to eat at Arty’s…
“ Here you go - eat up boy…”
“ Thanks Arty…I didn’t eat much at Olivia’s…”
“ Was it because I said I need to talk to you…?”
“ Yeah…I won’t lie but I am sure now that you weren’t wrong about her..”
“ Marcus…?”
“ Listen Arty…Olivia is strange…I think she walks at night in her sleep… and frankly she has this dark edge to her….I mean I wanted to overlook it first…but now I can’t…granted I love her gardens and her home and I love her a lot…but I just can’t dispel this thought that there’s something wrong with her…”
“ Well if you love her..you have to take her along with you Marcus…she’ll be heartbroken if you don’t nor else she’ll think you are using her just like her husband did.”
“ Why do I have to take along? Gee Arty I can’t give her a place to live – what is she going to do in a University? Sure I can tell her to apply but other than that what else can I do? I gotta be with my girlfriend you know –“
“ You got a girlfriend…?” Arty looked like he was shot.
“Yeah but I mean I can’t take Olivia there if she doesn’t wanna go it’s –“
“ Marcus…” Arty looked angry all of a sudden, “ You are just like her husband – fucking her and another woman on the side, you should be ashamed of yourself! So Ted was right about you!”
“ Arty…” I looked at his growing angry.
“ You better leave Marcus and I never want you here again. I respect Olivia a lot despite her being a crazy one and I can’t believe you would do this to her!”
“ Arty…”
“ I don’t wanna hear it!”
“ Arty…”
“ I said –“
“ What are you talking about?!”
Arty looked at me, “ If you are in a relationship with Olivia –“
“ Wow time-out I love Olivia but not like that. I have a great girlfriend and I love her ok. I have never had sex with Olivia. I am just her tenant. It was cheaper to stay with her so I did. I swear upon God – is that what you are thinking too? Man Arty I love Olivia but as a friend. I mean I feel for her. Her husband treats her so badly and Ash is nowhere.”
“ Her husband is dead.”
I looked at Arty, “ What..?”
“ Did she tell you that he was alive? It sometimes happens to her…she forgets but it happened here…”
“ What happened…?”
“ Cindy Park and her husband were having an affair. Of course Olivia knew it but her husband use to keep her shut…then Mr. Park knew it about it he came with a gun. They both were here. It was one of those slow days and they were here with some pals as to not make it obvious. But well Park shot her husband. Right in the head. He shot him other places too…make sure he dead…then he started pistol whipping and punching Cindy…he lost it…he’s in that place right nearby…Spring Falls Sanitarium…well Olivia barked at Cindy all obscenities but then she was ok with her. But the main problem was Ash…you see I think Olivia and Ash had a relationship even though they were legally related…I think they also consummated what they felt…but Ash was gone…and when he did come back Marcus he had a girlfriend in college. Olivia was heartbroken. She started losing it a bit. Of course some people suspected it too and they thought it was immoral – Ted even advised the priests to kick her out of church. Well they didn’t but she was not really welcomed in the village anymore but she stayed and kept on going…”
I felt an electric shock…she loved Ash as a lover…and her husband is dead…?
God Olivia must be more depressed than I thought.
“ Isn’t anyone treating her…?”
“ Yeah a doctor from Spring Falls…that also doesn’t put her in the good books with the people here…”
The doorbell rings and it is Cindy. I invite her in. We sit in the garden. We talk like old friends. We have tea. She asks me about Marcus. I tell her he left.
When she is preparing to leave I stop her and I slap her hard, “ You fucking slut – did you tell Ted anything about me and Marcus?!”
“No…No…of course not..” I slap her again harder and she falls to the floor breaking my tea cup, “ Slut –you’re gonna pay for that or else I’ll tell the doctor to bring back your pimp what you gonna do then you stupid fucking cunt!”
She was crying but I pulled her up by her hair and slapped her a couple of times more. Each time harder. Each time I laughed, “ You used to love it right – you tried to make it like before, right? Tried to remind me of how you used to screw him and steal from me! You know what slut! Ain’t gonna happen!” I punched her and kicked her abdomen. She spurted blood.
“ Clean this up slut and leave!”
She listened to my orders and left.
Marcus had left. No matter. He played his part. Though I loved him I knew he could never be mine. He once mentioned a girlfriend. Oh Marcus – if only you left her and stayed with me…Oh Marcus…
I got up and walked to my room and found him asleep. I called him, “ Terrance you awake my boy…?”
Terrance got up. He ran towards me but I slapped him. He fell down and cried and wailed: “ Sorry! Sorry!”
“ What did Momma tell you Terrance?”
“ But Mommy you were going to do it with Daddy and not me!”
“ Hush – you licked his face and dug into him – he would have realized everything…now c’mon be with me my Octopus-man…”
I wanted Cindy to tell others that Marcus was staying with me. I wanted others to think that I was sleeping with him. No one realized it. No one has to. I made Marcus afraid so that he would leave sooner and then no one would e curious anymore. He was not the first. I had tried with others. But I still want him… Terrance looks… like…. Ash. I wanted Ash. Ash – you bastard – how can you suddenly be embarrassed of our love? Why did you leave me? Marcus… I wanted to love you but Ash is still with me. That doctor and I made a deal. He would give me Terrance if I paid him a good deal. Sure. But I might kill him now and put the blame on Cindy. She’s a slut who deserves humiliation and pain always. After all I saw Terrance in Spring Falls when he had Cindy’s husband admitted and both the doctor and Cindy go there now – not me. Not lonely me. The Doctor told me Terrance has severe Oedipus Complex and killed his father then suffered a bit from memory distortions. He can fuck me and think I’m his Mommy.
As long as he looks like Ash – he’ll be the path to the one I had loved once as my Moonlit Roses.
(6,000 words)
A/N: Got information on flowers by searching various sites on the net. The O’Level paper question was real so I am not claiming it as mine. It belongs to EdExcel International. I just solved it like Olivia.
