SWNOVELS Chapter CHAPTER TWENTY
The Obedience Course
Stanley checked the watch; thirteen minutes before four, thirteen minutes before his resurrected, supposedly unthinking wife was dropped into the water. Parts of this night had flown by in the blink of an eye, and other parts had dawdled by frustratingly, and Stanley wanted the thirteen minutes to dawdle, although one thing struck him. His wife had supposedly been resurrected, and he couldn’t wait to see if it really was her.
He was staring at the watch, watching the seconds tick by, and even though he knew it was coming, he jumped when the watch buzzed. It was a grating, shrieking buzz that pierced his eardrums, and he stood clumsily and began walking out of the room. Awash with the conflicting emotions of apprehension and expectation, he skipped down the stairs and strode through the hallway. At the basement door he fretted as the caution circled in his mind; Do not force the door … He’d been so wond up, he ignored one of the basic instructions; Walk, don’t run … and he had rushed down in an anxious jog-skip. He looked at the watch, the watch showing one minute past four, the secondhand ticking past the six and heading for the seven. Shivering with anxiety, he tried to remember what the girl had said; wait for, wait for … what, what? The second hand reached the apex, and the minute hand made the barely discernible move to the second minute, Stanley panicking, What, what did she say? The second hand still ticking, sweeping past the two, and then a quiet yet distinct sound; Ohhh, click, click! The time delay lock had been released, so Stanley drew in a breath, opened the door and then skipped down the stairs, although his last few steps were cautious, almost involuntary, because alarmingly, he could hear the splashing already.
He stumbled down the final steps, faced the east wall, then he froze.
His wife, it was her, Iveta, and she was alive, splashing furiously, her naked body a frantic tangle of arms and legs. She paddled to the surface and sucked in a huge breath of air, although the action saw her sinking again, her arms flailing desperately to try and propel her towards the surface. While struggling against her involuntary descent, she saw him, and clumsily she speared towards the front panel and stared at him with wide and frightened eyes. Stanley felt helpless as he watched her struggle. With bubbles escaping from her mouth and spiralling upwards, she thumped her palms against the glass, obviously to try and attract his attention, although the polarised gravitational pull against her meant that the thumps seemed to be in slow motion. Stanley pulled the black-handled lever out, and with tears welling in his eyes, he saw the rope drop out from the blue box. Shocked by the terrified look on her face, he frantically pointed to the back wall as his wife vainly tried to thump her hands into the panel again. Submerged, sinking, struggling, although thankfully, she must have heard the hum, and she frantically splashed her way to the back wall.
Stanley was blubbering, and he was stunned when he heard a loud, grating buzz, although he realised that was the warning buzzer, and he had only thirty seconds to get out of the room. Walking backwards, he saw her reach for the rope and grab it, but in a moment of sheer horror, it slipped out of her grasp and she began sinking. Shivering with anxiety, he gasped, although she pushed up again and grabbed the rope with her left hand, then her right hand speared out and clasped the rope. Her back was to him, and he saw her shoulders and biceps straining to hang on, although thankfully, for the time being, her head was above the water line. Before closing the door, he heard her desperate breathing, her panting breathes being sucked in quickly and frantically.
Upstairs, he paced around the room, shell-shocked by the whole event. She couldn’t survive this for the next seven days, it was just simply impossible. Her first attempt to grab the rope had failed, and he envisaged that as she became weaker and more tortured by the experience, her survival instinct may be overtaken by the helplessness of it all, and she would simply sink to the bottom and die.
He looked at the watch constantly, watched every minute, some minutes being a slow grind, other blocks of minutes disappearing in a whisk, and when the watch ticked over to five o’clock, the grating buzz rattled through his entire being. He bolted down the stairs and unsteadily strode down the hallway and stopped at the basement door. He glanced at the watch; a minute past four, the second sweeping past the nine, early again. He willed the seconds to pass, each second making him more anxious, until finally, the click. He opened the door and he heard it immediately, frantic splashing, so he scuttled down the steps, the sound of the splashing bringing tears to his eyes, and when he reached the bottom of the stairs, the tears sprinkled out as his wife, with her back to him, flailed around helplessly. Jerkingly, he walked to the lever and yanked it towards him, and he heard the hum, and then saw the rope drop down. With puffed cheeks and frightened eyes, she spun around and gazed at him, then she awkwardly propelled herself towards the back wall. She grabbed the rope first time, and then breathing in pants, she gripped the rope tighter, the taut, active muscles in her shoulders and biceps clearly defined as she hung on for dear life.
*
Before retiring to escape the new day, Devil said, “Get in contact with our private detective.”
“Gavin Miles?” Chester asked.
“Yes.”
“How come?”
“I need to know about that woman.”
Five minutes later, Chester fronted her Master and said, “He must be asleep, but I left a message and told him to be here at eight o’clock tonight.”
“Excellent.”
With dawn threatening, the Master and his slave climbed into bed, and not unexpectedly, when the slave undressed, she became the Master.
*
To Stanley, six o’clock seemed better, because while the initial sight of her terrified eyes brought him to tears, as soon as he pulled the lever, she seemed to paddle uncertainly for a moment, then she turned quickly and swam towards the back wall. Grabbing the rope with both hands, she swivelled, then stared at him, and as the warning buzzer bleated out, he walked up the stairs.
Shell-shocked and gutted, he paced around upstairs, trying to slow his racing mind.
Searching for a positive, he reached for the pen and wrote unsteadily.
Six o’clock, better I think, when the hum started, she glanced at me for a fleeting moment, then headed straight for the back wall and pulled herself up.
For seven o’clock, he wrote.
It is horrific, seeing the terror in her eyes, the utter helplessness, but again, when the hum began, she knew where to go.
Emotionally razed, breathless, Stanley began to wonder if he had the emotional strength to survive this ordeal. He thought about Devil’s statement; Is this a test for you? Yes it is.
Sitting at his desk with his face nestled in his hands, Stanley tried to strengthen his resolve. He picked up the pen and wrote,
It is up to me, her fate is in my hands.
Do this, help her survive.
Do it, be strong.
Do it.
*
The new day was bright and sunny, a clear blue sky greeting him as he gazed out the window of the study. He glanced at the watch, 7.45am, then he looked at the notations he had recorded, and depressingly, he realized that he would need to record another seventeen notations before he even made it through the first day. Gritting his teeth, he wrote again,
Do it … do it, do it, do it …
Devil’s people had moved a bed, a fridge and a microwave into the large study, because for the next week, the study was his home, or as he thought depressingly, it was his psychological prison.
The fridge was full of frozen dinners which made sense, although he wondered whether he would be able to eat while he was going through this emotional torture. Coffee for breakfast, and a cigarette. Stanley was an occasional smoker, maybe half a dozen cigarettes a day, although by midday, there was eight butts in his ashtray.
After the midday rescue, he contemplated lunch, although his stomach was tied up in knots, so he had coffee and cigarettes for lunch.
Each hour he was confronted by the horrific sight of the love of his life struggling for her survival, and rather than becoming easier to cope with, it seemed to be getting harder. Because every time he went down to the basement, he knew what he was going to see.
After the 6pm rescue, he opened the fridge, gazing at the frozen packets, knowing that he should eat, but the thought of food tightened the knots in his stomach, and blowing out a disheartened sigh, he closed the fridge.
Two cigarettes for dinner.
He checked his watch; 8.07 pm. Four more of these until midnight. Four more occasions before he earnt a four-hour reprieve. Disconsolate, he pondered that his wife could be in serious trouble, because the man tasked with saving her, was already psychologically unravelling.
At midnight, Iveta hung on to the rope, and as he moved away, Stanley whispered, “Hang on Baby, you can do it.”
The four-hour reprieve had arrived, yet sleep was elusive, Stanley tossing and turning, the waking nightmare screaming through his mind constantly, and he napped in fits and starts until the watch screeched through his brain at 4am. Waking with a start, confusion surrounded him until he glanced at the watch and it all came flooding back to him. He hurried down the stairs, his mind in disarray because he didn’t believe that she would be capable of holding on to the rope for four hours, and he fretted that he would go down to the basement and see her floating face down. Early again, more than a minute early, and he shuffled restlessly as he urged, “Come on, come on…” Eventually the door clicked, and he stumbled down the steps, then he blew out a sigh of relief as he saw her splashing frantically.
He pulled the lever, gazed at her, then walked back up the stairs.
*
“Devil my friend, how are you?” Gavin Miles asked as he sat in the office.
“Very well Mr Miles.”
“Chester, nice to see you.”
“And you Mr Miles.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I need some information Mr Miles, information regarding an associate of mine, and I would like the information as quick as possible.”
“I can swing a few things around and get straight on it.”
“Excellent, although I’m not sure that this will be a quick exercise.”
“What’s it about?”
“A brief summary is that in nineteen-eighty-one, a teenage girl and her aunty entered the country from Hungary. The aunty took a job as a live-in housekeeper for an associate of mine, so the girl was brought up in the house. A relationship was formed between my associate and the girl, and they ended up marrying. What I need is for you to find out everything about this girl before she arrived in this country.”
“What are you saying, travel to Hungary?”
“Precisely. I want to know everything about her, where she was born, what her parents were like, where her parents were born, and also anything pertinent that you can dig up about her other relatives.”
“Sure, do you have a starting point?”
“I have the passports of the girl and her aunty, and the former address is listed on the passport.”
“Good, and you want me to start right away?”
“Put it this way, tell me how much you want to get this ball rolling, and Chester will organise it.”
*
Day Two
Stanley wrote on a sheet of paper; day one, day two, day three, day four, day five, day six, day seven, and then he crossed out day one and wrote underneath it,
For you Iveta, I will do this.
On the hour, every hour, Stanley panicked as his resurrected wife struggled for her life, the terror in her eyes always the same, true fear, so stark and unmistakable. Every new experience was like a battering ram crashing into his mind and weakening all the barriers, bit by bit, piece by piece, his mind slowly crumbling under the onslaught.
After midday, he wrote,
147 times I have to endure this horror, but Iveta my love, 29 times I have responded, we are more than a fifth of the way home.
Stanley forced himself to eat after the 7pm rescue, and he ate two slices of pizza. He found it difficult to eat, his throat tight, his stomach knotted, but he chewed, knowing that he had to keep his strength up. He opened the cigarette packet, and then froze; three cigarettes left. He rang an acquaintance. “Hi, can you do me a favour? I need a carton of cigarettes.”
He was both physically and emotionally weary after the midnight rescue, but sleep elusive again, his mind almost shutting down a few times until the nightmare barrelled through again and forced his eyes to snap open.
At 4am, the watch buzzed and roused him, and Stanley sat up, confused and disoriented, although thoughts whizzed into his mind, basement, lever, rescue …
He hurried down, stumbling, ungainly, awake, although now fully aware of how tired he was, and frustratingly, he was early again. He cursed and scowled, bitter now, although he tried to calm himself. He knew that it was times like this that people lost control. Already broken by exhaustion and anger, he wanted to lash out, at anything, although he gritted his teeth as he waited for the sound. After the click, he opened the basement door and bolted down, fretting, fearful that this could be the morning that he saw her floating lifelessly, although he heard a splash, weak splashing, and he charged towards the lever and yanked it down.
Stanley tensed as he saw her drifting down, her arms and legs occasionally flailing in desperation, although she was still falling, almost like she was losing her will, and he thumped the glass and yelled, “Iveta, come on!”
The hum was consistent, although she was clearly struggling, her right arm the only limb in motion now, the arm involved in a listless clawing motion, and Stanley pounded on the glass as he screamed, “Iveta, swim, come on, the rope!”
Stanley was frantic as her feet touched the bottom, and alarmingly, her knees seemed to buckle. The warning buzzer screeched out, and Stanley, terrified, stumbled backwards, urging her, “Iveta, please, come on, do it!”
With both feet on the floor, her torso seemed to collapse forward for a moment, her face resting on her bent knees, then her legs coiled, and she pushed upwards, spearing through the water awkwardly until she broke the surface and lunged at the rope. Her left hand slipped off, although her right hand grabbed, and with a shrug of her left shoulder, her left hand finally found the rope.
Shell-shocked by the near failure, Stanley instructed himself, “L-leave immediately.” And he closed the door and then leant against the wall of the stairwell. Broken and exhausted yeah, but he was also becoming increasingly aware of the futility of this impossible task. He hung his head and wept, wept for his helpless wife, wept because of the hourly torment he had to endure, and he wept because he was being exposed. He had always considered himself to be strong and unyielding, although this barbaric exercise was exposing his many weaknesses.
Day Three
Right through the morning her efforts were weak, every hour seeing her struggle vainly, and Stanley heard the warning buzzer every time. Opening the basement door each hour was becoming a nightmare, walking down the stairs filled him with anxiety, because it was looming ominously that the fight was being drained out of her. And him.
After the midday rescue, he wrote,
Fight Iveta fight. 58 times you have done it. We are more than a quarter of the way through
Stanley was pleased that her afternoon efforts were better. She seemed to have gained an understanding of the procedure, and she no longer thumped her palms against the panel, instead she watched him pull the lever, and when the hum began, she turned and swam to the back wall. Most times through the afternoon and evening, after clasping the rope, she turned to look at him, watching him, staring at him as he moved out of the room.
Stanley heated a frozen casserole for dinner and ate it all. After the 9pm rescue, he showered, enjoying the experience, the warm water easing his tension. He poured himself a finger of whiskey and sipped it. He would have loved to drink the whole bottle and wipe himself out, although he knew that if he did, he would be wiping out his wife as well. Alcohol could dull your senses, so he made a commitment to himself; a finger of whiskey at 9pm each night.
After the midnight rescue, he curled into bed and fell asleep.
*
Devil received a message;
Flying out tomorrow, will keep you updated.
Devil lit his bong, then whispered to himself, “Yes, please keep me updated.”
He sucked in, held, then blew out, thinking about his latest resurrection. There was something about this woman, something strange, something unsettling. For the very first time, he’d experienced vision as his spirit plunged into the black hole of death, because he saw her, the woman standing there as if she were waiting for someone, or something. She had been motionless, yet seemingly focussed on something, and when his spirit engaged with her, without hesitation, she had floated back into the realm. Devil remembered that when he placed his hands on the resurrected woman’s head, he felt a presence above him, possibly an angelic presence, and the presence appeared distraught that the woman had been brought back to life.
So many things about this resurrection puzzled him, and also troubled him, so he needed answers. Possibly due to her harsh and unpleasant upbringing, Iveta had grown to be a cruel, evil young woman, and Devil hoped that Gavin Miles investigations would show just that. Although he couldn’t get the image out of his mind; the deceased spirit in physical form, waiting in the black hole of death, waiting for someone or something, and Devil remembered the eerie feeling that he wasn’t the only one who was watching her.
*
Day Four
Hurrying down for the four o’clock morning rescue always made him anxious, although as he opened the basement door, he heard the splashing. Skipping down to the basement, he looked over, and when she saw him, her frantic splashing stopped, the splashing replaced by a controlled paddling. He pulled the lever back and the hum began, and Iveta pushed off the floor and glided up to the back wall. Then she turned to look at him.
For the 7pm rescue, Iveta stopped her frantic splashing as soon as she saw him, and then something new. Holding her breath, she swam over to the corner and stood by the lever. With her palms resting against the glass panel at head height, she watched him pull the lever, and as the hum began, she brought her face up and looked into his eyes. Stanley felt relieved, because while her eyes and her expression seemed blank, for the first time, her eyes didn’t display fear or terror.
At 11pm, something new again, because she was waiting for him, standing in the corner by the lever, and she pointed at the lever, and as he pulled it and the hum began, she looked into his eyes, then turned and glided her way to the back wall.
Feeling a lot more comfortable, Stanley wrote,
Dearest Iveta, we are more than half way home. Soon, we will be together.
Day Five
The rescues seemed to be evolving into a pattern, with Iveta standing by the lever when he walked in, then as the hum began, she would look into his eyes before breast-stroking calmly to the back wall. She would grab the rope and then swivel around to watch him walk out. For the 3pm rescue, something different again, for as he began walking away, she squealed, the sound like a gurgled mew, like a cry for attention, and he gazed at her, her left hand holding the rope, while her right hand reached out towards him in desperation.
Day Six
For the 11am rescue, she paddled, treading water calmly, and as he strode towards the lever, she moved to her right and floated near the lever, and when she saw him pull the lever, she breast-stroked towards the back wall. The rope came down, and she clasped it with both hands and pulled herself above the waterline, then she turned to look at him. For a moment, her eyes were unreadable, then they softened as she smiled for him.
Stanley understood the object of this barbaric exercise, and the smile, her first smile had been the only rewarding moment in this whole brutal experience.
The rewards kept coming though, and he received a smile for every rescue, her lips parting, her eyes displaying a serene calm.
For the 3pm rescue, he tarried before pulling the lever. Iveta, standing on the floor, her palms against the glass panel, and Stanley looked into her eyes, then his gaze lowered. He had watched her grow from teenager to woman, and it had been her natural beauty that had first attracted him. And now here she was before him, in all her naked glory, smiling demurely for him, then as he pulled the lever, she turned and breast-stroked away from him. He watched her athletic legs kick out, her buttocks clenching, then as she grabbed the rope, she flicked her hair back and focussed on him. Stanley blew her a kiss as he left the room, knowing that she wouldn’t understand the gesture, but he couldn’t help himself, because in the not-too-distant future, he would be embracing the love of his life and kissing her for real.
Day Seven
She was waiting for him when he arrived, paddling her arms and legs, hovering near the lever, and when she saw the lever pulled back, she breast-stroked towards the back wall. She grabbed the rope and pulled herself up, then she let her head fall back, and she shook her head, the mane of wet hair flicking around, until she set her gaze on him.
Five more to go, and Stanley felt relieved. Five more times before this nightmare was over and he could set her free. Although none of the final five times was a nightmare, it was almost like they were bonding.
She was there every time, hovering by the lever, and when she saw him pull the lever, she swam to the back wall and waited for the rope. Pulling herself up, she seemed to appreciate her survival, and she flicked her hair back, then gazed at him.
No, it wasn’t a nightmare anymore, it was like excitingly counting down the days until a special occasion. For Stanley, this was going to be the most anticipated and memorable occasion of his life.
Strangely, he thought about the human being she had been; And sometimes, I want to be the nightmare … It settled on him quickly, that the other-worldly being that she would become, was in his control. He could make her be the person that he wanted her to be.
The person that he would mould her into would be an improvement on the being that she had been, because there would be no senseless slaughter in the new and improved version, only directed and guided slaughter.
She was apparently an empty vessel, yet she was an empty vessel that he would fill to his own requirements. He jotted down a few notes.
*
For the final rescue, Devil and Chester joined him.
Hanging on to the rope with both hands, Iveta seemed surprised by the appearance of the other two, and she looked at Stanley anxiously.
“Boss?” Chester asked.
“You may release the valve.” Devil replied.
Chester flicked a switch at the base of the southern wall, and the cap of the large drain in the water tank blew upwards, and soon water began spiralling over the drain as it was sucked down. The release of the water caused a swirling effect over the drain, the water swirling like a mini-tornado, and Iveta gripped the rope tighter as she looked at Stanley with frightened eyes. The water level dropped quickly, and soon half of Iveta’s body was above the level, then the blue box whirred, and the rope was drawn back in. Iveta panicked as the rope was winched out of her grasp, and she dropped into the water, although now she was standing head and shoulders above the water. She waded through the water and went to Stanley, her palms pressed against the glass panel as her eyes searched his.
He knew that she wouldn’t understand what he was saying, although he couldn’t help himself as he gushed out breathlessly, “My Darling, it’s okay, it’s finished, it’s all over.”
The water level dropped below her waist, then her knees, and Devil called out, “Gentlemen, if you will.”
Four men walked into the room, and two of them began cutting through the silicone that bonded the west and south glass panels, while two cut the silicone at the base of the southern panel, and when the water had completely drained away, the four men pulled the south panel out of its track in the base, and then grunting, they carried the panel toward the stairs.
So relieved, so expectant, Stanley skipped over to Iveta. With tears welling in his eyes, he brushed the wet hair off the left side of her face, then embraced her. Clearly, she didn’t understand the significance of the embrace, for she hung limply in his arms, but so relieved was he, that he kissed both her cheeks, and sobbing, he smiled at her.
“Good sir, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this; so come, lead your wife up the stairs.”
Stanley pushed her arms into a fluffy, woollen bathrobe, fastened the robe, then took her hand as he led her up the stairs.
Retiring to the sunroom, Stanley helped Iveta sit on the couch, then he sat next to her.
Devil sat opposite and said, “Yes, I believe that all has gone well.”
“I, I can’t believe it’s her.” Stanley muttered.
Devil looked at her and said casually, “It is her, and I must say, she is one fine specimen.” Devil handed Stanley a card and said, “Chester’s phone number.”
Stanley shook his head in confusion.
“As part of our on-going service, if you have any questions, feel free to ring Chester.”
“Okay, I appreciate that, although I would prefer to ring you. I mean what if I need to discuss … arhhh, personal matters?”
“Personal matters like what?”
Stanley hung his head as he ran things through his mind. Devil had performed something miraculous, because he had resurrected his deceased wife, so maybe sensitive issues didn’t matter any more. He looked at Devil and said, “What if I need to discuss sexual matters?”
“If you need to discuss sexual matters, you will not find a better expert than Chester.” Devil replied.
Stanley glanced at Chester, and Devil could understand his apprehension, so he said, “If you like, Chester will make herself available to teach your wife what she needs to know in that particular area.”
“Ummm, yes, I think that would be a good idea.” Stanley muttered.
“For a small fee of course.” Chester chimed in.
“How much?”
“I will make myself available for three nights, five thousand dollars a night.”
“Fifteen thousand dollars?”
Chester nodded, then turned to Devil. “Can you do without me for three nights Boss?”
“I am so infatuated with you my dear, that three nights would be my absolute limit.”
“Okay chum, have the money for me tomorrow night, and then I’m all yours for the next three nights.”
Stanley felt his cheeks blazing as the significant words of her nonchalant phrase chimed in his mind; I’m all YOURS … although he regathered and muttered, “Sure, I will organise it.”
“I’ll be here at eleven-thirty on the dot.”
Devil looked at him and said, “As from tomorrow night, Chester will fill you in on what your wife is capable of and what she isn’t capable of, but before we leave, the one thing you do need to know right now is that your wife can not be exposed to the sun.”
“What do you mean?”
“Effectively, she is now a nocturnal creature, and she is nocturnal by necessity, because exposure to sunlight will kill her.”
“That sounds like one of the myths about vampires.” Stanley muttered uncertainly.
“It is a reality good sir, exposure to sunlight will kill vampires, and it will also kill any other undead or supernatural creatures. If you like, I will have my people modify the bedroom where your wife will sleep.”
“What do you mean by modify?”
“Curtains, drapes or blinds need to be removed, and the windows need to be blacked out, because your wife will sleep while the sun shines, and there can be no sunlight filtering into her sleeping quarters.”
“Yes, certainly, please have your people do that.”
“Chester, if you will.”
“I’m on it Boss.”
Stanley watched the girl walk away, then he asked, “If she’s sensitive to light, what about light-globes, do I have to remove them all?”
“No, the glare of a light-globe is significantly inferior to the power generated by the sun, so artificial light will not harm her. I mean here I am sitting directly under your ceiling lights.”
With the girl gone, Stanley inched his way towards the sensitive topics. “So, if I’m feeling affectionate, is she, I mean is Iveta ready for intimate experiences?”
“If I was you good sir, I would attempt to control your urges until Chester comes tomorrow night, although you are not forbidden to try.”
“Yes I’ll try to behave myself, although tonight I think I might run the spa and see if that relaxes her.”
Devil cocked his head and said, “Mr Stanley, please take a moment to think about what you just said.”
“What?”
“Think about what your wife has endured for the past week, and remember that she is an instinctive, unthinking being at this point in time, and the only memories she has are of her last week.”
Stanley thought about it, then he nodded sheepishly as he said, “Ohhh, water.”
“Yes indeed, water. I would suggest that a spa would scare at her at this stage rather than relax her, but I trust Chester will help you both work through that.”
Another thought popped into Stanley’s mind, and he asked, “With Iveta, can she get pregnant?”
“No, there are advantages and disadvantages of being undead. Among the advantages are that we do not age and we are harder to kill, although in my mind, the biggest disadvantage is that we can not reproduce. If we could, I can assure you that young Chester would be the mother to at least half a dozen children by this stage.” Devil stood and shook hands, and Stanley held his gaze as he said, “Thank-you, for everything.”
*
Stanley prepared a meal for them, chicken and rice, and he stabbed a piece of sliced chicken onto a fork, then directed it towards her mouth. Iveta turned her head and shied away, and Stanley was puzzled. Devil had stated that she should be ravenous after her week in the water, yet she seemed hesitant. The meal looked good, and with the pleasant aroma wafting upwards, it smelt good as well, although clearly, she wasn’t interested. Stanley assumed that even for unthinking creatures, eating would be instinctive, yet Iveta’s instincts remained in limbo. He held the fork in front of his mouth and said, “Like this.” Then he fed the chicken into his mouth and chewed. She watched him, then he stabbed another piece of chicken onto the fork and gently pushed it onto her closed lips. Again, she shied away, and after two minutes of unproductive demonstration, he placed the fork on the table and sank back into the chair. Disconcertingly, he wondered whether he would need to teach her everything, including the most basic tasks like eating. Using his fingers, he picked up a piece of chicken, put it in his mouth, then chewed. Facing her, he nodded as he said, “Good, very nice.” He gathered rice, fed it into his mouth, and still nodding and chewing, he said, “Good, very nice.”
He’d cleaned half his plate away before she tentatively picked up a piece of chicken and looked at it. Excited, Stanley pointed at her mouth, then his mouth, then he picked up another piece and slowly and deliberately, guided it into his mouth. Cautiously, Iveta pushed the piece into her mouth, then she grimaced, obviously uncomfortable about the foreign matter in her mouth, so Stanley fed another piece into his mouth, and with exaggerated movements, he chewed. Iveta watched him, and then, ungainly as it was, her jaws began working, her teeth involved in a hesitant grind, and shortly after, she gulped, then looked at him.
“Good girl!” Stanley declared brightly, then he fed another piece into his own mouth and chewed loudly, and thankfully, Iveta picked up another piece and then chewed with a greater intent.
Her meal was only small, although it took her more than twenty minutes to clear the plate. He understood that the next period of his life was going to be difficult, and he would need to be patient as his wife learnt how to live again, so he was pleased that an expert would be on hand the following night.
As dawn threatened, he led her up to the newly modified bedroom and ushered her in. A single lamp was switched on in the furtherest corner of the room and he stopped near the lamp, then reverently, he took her bathrobe off. She was a stunning looking woman, and Stanley enjoyed gazing at her. Iveta stood motionless, watching him. He undressed quickly and then kissed her, squeezing in tight against her as his hands dribbled over her buttocks. Darkness danced for him, and he skimmed his hands over her breasts, then he looked into her eyes. She was staring at him, her eyelashes fluttering occasionally.
Stanley caressed her buttocks, and her eyelashes fluttered again. He skimmed his hand over the mound of her vagina, and she tensed for a fleeting moment, then stared at him. His erection was already severe, and he grabbed her right hand and closed her hand around his erection. He tried to guide her hand in a stroking motion, although every time he let her hand go, she stopped. Teaching would have to wait, because he could barely control himself. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t help himself as he led her over to the bed and then lay her on her back. He climbed on top of her and kissed her, and she tensed, so he tried again, skimming his right hand over her face as he licked her lips then began a slow kiss. Even though she wasn’t responding, she seemed to have settled, so Stanley gently urged her legs apart, and as delicately as he could, he pushed into her. Iveta let out a surprised gasp, and concerned, Stanley tickled his fingers over her face as he said soothingly, “It’s okay baby, relax.”
She didn’t relax though, seemingly uncomfortable as he slid as gently as he could, her eyes staying fixed on his. The climax was quick and satisfying, and he dampened a washcloth and cleaned her, then cuddled into her and kissed her cheeks. The kisses seemed to be annoying her, and she rolled away from him.
Surprisingly, she fell asleep quickly, and he cuddled into her again, barely able to believe that he was doing it. He closed his eyes, and even though he was tired, he knew that sleep would not come easy on this new day. The love of his life had been successfully resurrected. He opened his eyes and gazed at her silhouette as a thought danced across his mind; Resurrected means that, that … the Monster has been awoken …
*
Stanley paced all afternoon, the ashtray filling with butts, and he constantly poked his head into the bedroom, Iveta sleeping peacefully. Strangely, he noted that she hadn’t moved. She had fallen asleep curled into the foetal position on her left side, and every time he checked her, she was in the same position. Motionless, still, yet seemingly in peaceful slumber.
Occasionally, he sat on the bed watching her, intrigued by her stillness, and he wondered if any thoughts were lingering in her mind. If her mind had been vacant, her first week’s memories should have seen her tossing and turning in distress, but not a muscle moved. Devil had stated that her mind was an empty vessel waiting to be filled, and that both excited and frightened him. It had taken him more than twenty minutes to teach her how to eat, and there were much more complex activities that she would need to learn. Thankfully, Chester seemed willing to help with most situations if the price was right, and Stanley envisaged that the girl would be playing an important role in his immediate future.
*
Devil answered the phone and said, “Mr Miles, how are you?”
“Very well, and I thought I’d update you.”
“Please go ahead.”
“Fisrtly, Martina Koroslova is not her Aunty, and I haven’t been able to establish what her relationship is with the girl. I went to the local police station and confirmed that the girl did kill her parents, although Janos and Reka Horvat weren’t her biological parents, she was fostered out to them in nineteen-seventy.”
“Nineteen-seventy? So she’s two years old at that stage?”
“Correct. She killed the foster parents in seventy-nine, and because of her age, and also because the girl had bruises and abrasions consistent with signs of sexual and physical abuse, she was never charged with the murders, and she was placed in an institution until nineteen-eighty, and that’s when Koroslova enters the scene. Koroslova applied for guardianship of the child, and the application was processed quickly, and as soon as the paperwork was complete, they flew to the States in February of eighty-one.”
“So we don’t know who Koroslova is?”
“No, but as well, we don’t know who Iveta is. I may have a contact who can get me information regarding the fostering to the Horvat’s, although these people only speak when you flash money at them.”
“You have my permission to buy whatever information you need.”
“Thank-you Devil, and just on that, I knew I was going to struggle with the language barrier early on, so I’ve employed a translator to travel with me. She’s cheap though, only costing you seventy-five dollars a day.”
“That sounds very sensible and reasonable, so just let me know when you want money and I’ll wire it through.”
“I will, and I’ll keep you updated.”
*
Iveta slept so motionlessly, that more than once, Stanley had rushed into the room to see if she was still breathing, and she always was. Breathing was a sign of life, although Stanley couldn’t wait until she woke up, because the negative part of his mind kept whispering, This isn’t real, it can’t be real …
Stanley was sitting on the bed when she stirred, and he checked his watch, 7.53pm. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, for earlier that day, he had checked the weather channel to see what time the sun would set, and they had listed sunset at 7.51. Iveta didn’t roll or yawn, she simply sat up and stared into his eyes. Stanley kissed her cheek and said, “Good evening.” She continued staring. Evening it was, and Stanley’s excitement grew, because that meant that the girl would soon be joining them. For three nights.
He envisaged that to teach Iveta about sexual matters, many provocative and exciting experiences would occur, and he tried to calm his racing mind, although he knew it was useless, for the cute young girl was coming. For three nights.
He moved to her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of silk panties, then pulled out a smart, knee-length white dress. With a smile, he coaxed her to stand, then he slid the panties over her feet and up her legs. Iveta stood silently as he raised her arms and slid the dress over her, then pulled it down and did up the zip. Iveta standing silently, obediently, staring at him. He clasped her right hand, and together they walked down the stairs.
Stanley wanted something easy for their meal, and he mixed up a fried rice. He organised a spoon for Iveta, rather than a fork, and he scooped up small portions and fed them into her mouth. She seemed to be enjoying the meal, and he coaxed to her to hold the spoon, then he gave her a demonstration of the procedure; scoop, insert in mouth, chew.
After dinner, he took her upstairs and groomed her. Her brushed her teeth, combed her hair, rolled deodorant under her arms, then dabbed a sweet-smelling perfume on her cheeks and behind her ears. He noticed her sniffing, and he held his dabbing finger under her nose. She sniffed, closed her eyes briefly, then looked at him. She looked so innocent, so naïve, and while he understood that she was at the beginning of a long learning cycle, he simply couldn’t marry the image with the reality; the mind of a new-born in a woman’s body.