Moon light washed across the waves reminding Brady of the oatmeal he'd left sitting at home. The nagging feeling pulled at his chest, for he could see it sitting there soiled. Now that he'd escaped it sat their as a memorial of his presence. He called out to it, out to the waves in a clear, strong voice, "The bowl will be empty after it ends....and so will I." He then walked through the shadows to his cabin.
Daybreak came brightly through the porthole of his room. Small shards of light piercing his sleep. The pain was negotiable, as he had never appreciated the sun's purpose. In earlier years he had even considered it his enemy, now he held the opinion it was their as an annoyance.....the product of his enemy. The sheets slid off his sleepy warm body and continued on their way to the floor. Carpet creaking under his toes he hobbled over to the toilet.
Small rivulets of urine clung to the toilet seat as he finished his business, an afterthought of the agony he knew as home. The man that turned to smile back at him from the mirror held little resemblance to the man his enemy had known. Today the ship would dock and she would board. He relished these small deceits as victory, and the tile felt smooth against his back as he fell back in delight. His mother had always said his vengeful nature could be his only companion in the end. "Well, guess what Mummy, she's not such a bad bed mate. Much less demanding than any other woman."
The other tourist passengers had taken leave, but he stood by the railing with patient intent. The new boarders herded past him, but he had no reason to pay attention to their useless prattle. His eyes wandered to the frolicking blue crepe taped to the boarding rail when she wandered into the corner of his sight. Her head bent in concentration as she balanced her bags. Six luggage cases draped over her tiny mass and the damp wind both competed with her balance.
His hand burrowed deeply in the folds of his pocket. His face jerked into a scowl. She was coming closer every second and he could feel the hairs on his neck raise like shackles. Brown curls framed her face, sickly chocolate brown curls. The scent of rosewood and laboratory sterilization condemned as she neared. He moved into her path as the contempt vanished from his face. Steps from his she stopped.
"Oh, excuse me." Her head jerked, she dazedly looked into his face. The bag she had been carrying on her hip shifted and she began to tumble backwards. His arm shot out to grasp her tilting body before she fell, pulling her out of the expressway.
"Perhaps I could help you carry all these bags down to your room."
"Oh, yes. I-I would appreciate that." She let go of the bigger part of her burden. The sun shined down, lovingly, on her sweet face and caressed her creamy cheeks into a peach blush. "Thank you so much. I wasn't sure I would make it to my cabin whole."
The cheshire grin that responded held victory as it's origin. "Well, I couldn't leave you to the mercy of these bags. No true gentleman would do that."
Her returning smile was shy with attraction and gratitude. He could feel her icy heart melt under the glow of his handsome admiration. The first step had been established.
Her cabin proved to much bigger than his. A twin bed sat as the center piece with the bathroom to one side and a clothes closet flanking the other. He placed her bags neatly beside the closet and helped her remove the rest of her burden. After this task had been completed she fidgeted with the sleeve of her peasant dress and smiled at him tentatively.
"I really do appreciate your help. Is their anything I can do to thank you."
He stepped closer to her agitated body and touched the tip of her chin with his thumb. Her eyes shot up to his face in alarm and then clouded over. The desire reflected in his eyes as he murmured, "Why don't you meet me for diner and we can discuss ut there."
She thumped her heel nervously and cleared her throat to speak. "I would love to meet you for dinner. Oh, but I don't know your name."
"Brady, Anthony Brady."
A small ridge formed between her brows as she took in his name. "H-have we met before....your name sound's awfully familiar." His non-comental 'hmm' was barely out before she continued. "No, I think I would have remembered your face. My name is Cira Lee."
He nodded and started out of the room hesitantly, turning at the last minute to look at her face. "Yes, I know. I'll meet you in the lobby tonight at eight."
A slow romantic song permeated the room. The low lights shadowed the faces of man and woman as they walked into the dining room. He wore a simple black tux. She wore a demure peach summer dress. The conflict in their eyes reflected their dress as they sat at a vacant table.
"Order whatever you please, my funds are not limited." His voice held all the nervousness he felt. Like a tiger on his first hunt this night held all the terror and excitement for him.
She nodded shyly and idly played with the napkin in her lap. The waitress came to take their order and then left to fetch their drinks. The candle light cast a ghostly likeness onto her gaunt features and he smiled. Her funeral would be a gracious occasion of solemn laments and teary eyed mourners. She would leave this world as martyr and only he would know the secret.
"What are you thinking? They must be happy thoughts to make you smile so."
"I was thinking of you."
She turned her face away. "No, really."
"I was thinking about how the candle light made your skin glow and how I must be only one of your many admirers."
At this moment their dinner arrived and she was rescued. They ate in silence. Tension fairly crackled between them. His hand brushed a wrinkle from the napkin in his lap. She reached for the salt and held the crystalline sphere tightly. The cool icy glass seemed to be the only thing real, next to her. He stopped her hand in mid-air and took the salt from her.
"You should watch what you put between those lips."
He drew her floating hand down and anchored it with his own warm palm. Her eyes held all the confusion of a child just learning to speak. She understood the language, but in communicating her thoughts she stumbled over what words to use.
Desperation flashed in her eyes as the waiter passed by their table. He would not release her tingling hand. The waiter lay their bill next to him. She jerked her hand away and he took the opportunity to sign the bill.
"Why don't we continue this lovely evening out on the deck. The sea is a very comfortable backdrop to talk in."
"Y-you only want to talk?"
"My dear, I am no beast. I would like to get to know you a might better before I allow our relationship to progress."
They stood and walked out onto the deck. The moon splashed down onto a sea of darkness. Waves lapped against the boats edge as passengers loitered the spanning rail. He guided her to a secluded spot. Except for the stray couple and wet air they were alone.
"Tell me about yourself." She finally murmured.
"I'm living proof that man was never meant to bear children. Test tubes should be used in conception and a plastic bubble in place of the womb."
"I'm sorry. Have your parent hurt you that much."
"I suppose you could say that. I spent most of my formative years in foster homes."
"Yes.....I know how that feels. My parent's abandoned me to the system when I was very young. T-that's what made me choose my field of work. I'm a reasearch geneticist for Clemants University in Utah. We're trying to perfect the gene pool, quote unquote."
"You don't sound very enthused by the idea." He stared out at the water to hide the diversion playing in his eyes.
"I don't particularly agree with all the procedures my associate insist on using.....I'm sorry, I don't like lying to people. The truth is I've had experiments backfire on me. Sometimes we've used human subjects and.....it's just to painful to talk about."
She turned away. He wanted to grab her, shake her, stop her from saying these things. They made him feel comnpassion for her. She was the enemy. The bane of his existence. He'd known about the failed experiments, yet hearing her admit to them did not affect him as the written word had. He had to remember that nothing had changed. She was still his nemesis.
After parting at her door he went back to his cabin and let loose all the pent up rage she had surfaced. Throwing things didn't do much to elieviate the problem, but it gave him a twisted satisfaction. In this room he held control. On deck, in the dining room, just outside her cabin he struggled with her. She still felt safe, and that security drained his power. Fear was the ultimate death, and to see it fill her eyes obsessed him. He wanted to watch her soul tear, as she had his........
The next day came with a blur of activity. Cira met him on deck and led him through a whirlwind of activity. They started with one end of the ship and progressed, slowly, to the opposite side. As the sun dipped passed the horizon they stopped at the front railing. Anthony wore a tired grin while Cira giggled foolishly at the joke she had just fouled up.
"I guess I'd better refrain from comedy. Doesn't suit the image of a well respected scientist anyways. Sooooo, what's next?"
He sighed audibly, "You are unexaustibale. I think I'm going to return to my cabin, what you do for the rest of the evening is entirely up to you."
She looked down and nodded. He tipped up her chin with a stray finger and gently kissed her dry lips. The commiseration quickly disapeared and desire replaced it, but he did not answer it. Instead he smiled in farewell and turned to leave. Only feet away she stopped him,
"Wait! I....Maybe we could just talk, down in my cabin. This has been such a wonderful day.....I don't want it to end this way." Her beseeching look would have melted the heart of any ordinary fool, but he took it as an opportunity.
"I have to freshen up. Why don't we meet in twenty minutes, down at your cabin."
"Sure."
They ended up not speaking at all, instead they took residence in her bed. Sweat drenched they both shook as the last spasms overtook her. PantingPension above her he stared down. Her eyes half closed with sweat beading her brow she looked almost human. Not glass or steel, but real flesh. He wondered what it would taste like. His tongue darted across her cheek and her eyes fully opened.
"Hi."
He only smiled down at her. His hands slid down the sheet to capture her wrists. She smiled wantonly. He grasped a piece of the loose sheet and tore a strip from it. Folding the strip and wrapping it around her wrists repeatedly bound them nicely. He leaned on his elbows and pushed the hair away from her face.
"Let me ask you a question, Miss Lee. Did you not work at a mental institution as an intern?"
She blinked up at him, baffled, "Why, yes. How-"
"And during this time did you not work with a patient by the name of Brady?"
This time the eyes staring up at held distinct alarm. "I-I worked with many patients. It was my job."
"Think hard. You were having a hard time in your personal life. Feeling a little lonely and angry. A plain 20 year old VIRGIN who desperately yearned for male attention."
"Who are you? What do you want from me?" She'd begun to struggle beneath him. He yawned widely and his eyes misted over for a second, but pulling strength from his burning hate he resurrected.
"I've already told you my name, think hard. Cell D-42. His hair was scrawny blond and he took a quick liking to you. Tuesdays were your day on D floor. You heard his sob story, and even believed it. At one O'clock you'd reach his cell. His insurance money was good so they'd put him up in a solitary padded room.
"You'd always come in and start to play the game. A flip of the shoulder, then wiggle your breasts, and on from their. If I remember correctly the first time you noticed his predicament you tossed out some line about an examination to insure no suicide attempts had gone unnoticed. I protested, claiming I didn't want to end up in the dank ward, but in the end you won.
"The first few months no one noticed your frequent trips to D ward. Then the advisor showed up. We were in the throws of passion, but all they saw was a woman writhing. The distinction between pain and passion was never questioned, not even by the two who pulled me off of you.
"A day later I was put into your precious experimental lab. The drug they administered was meant to subdue, but on sane people it seemed to have the opposite effect. That last day, before I saw the light, you tampered with the drug. I saw you PLAYING with it. I was reacting wrong so the experts decided to genetically alter it. To better suit it's purpose. Then the Sun became my enemy. Scorching my eyes and tearing at my skin. Then and there they put me in the dank ward. I tried to hide, but it lived even in the shadows. You can't get away from the light, it's everywhere.
The pain went away......and I figured out who was my real enemy. My ex-wife just wanted me to go away. SO she could start all over again. You wanted to destroy me, but I got you." He smiled dazedly. "Soon my life will be in you. Soon I'll be able to rest...soon.....drug worked.....I can see....it's empty......"
His body above hers as torrid visions raced across her tear filled eyes she cradled his limp head nearer to her sorrow filled body. So there she lay. In simple repent, the end of his life and beginning of another.
The End.
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