Taxi to Paris Read online

  She shook her head. "No, not that, either."

  I didn't know what alternatives she was weighing in her head, so I just stood there and waited for an answer.

  "Do you like the countryside?" she asked suddenly.

  "That depends," I replied uncertainly. That was a rather vague description.

  "I'd really like to drive out there. Just in the area." She looked at me doubtfully. "If you want."

  "If you want," I emphasized in reply. "I don't know anything about the area around Paris. I've only ever been in the city before." I smiled invitingly at her. "Will you show me the most beautiful parts of the landscape?"

  Only now did she let me see how important this trip was to her. "Yes, I'd love to." She beamed.

  It really wasn't easy to fulfill a wish for her!

  After I found my car again, we drove out toward the south end of the city. When we could see nothing but fields left and right, she pointed toward a dirt road.

  "You can park there. Then we can walk."

  I followed her instructions, and we walked right into a small forest. It was as if the huge city of Paris no longer existed, although it was so close. She stood still and breathed it all in.

  Her appearance really struck me. She fit in here just as well as she had in the bistro in Paris or in the apartment there. She filled every situation with her charm and beauty. I asked myself what I could possibly offer her. She gave me so much. And I? I could take care of her when she was sick. But she wouldn't always be sick.

  Smiling, she turned to face me. "Isn't it lovely here?" She was so relaxed. Her bruises were barely visible now. Of course, she'd put makeup on again, but that couldn't account for it alone. Here, no one threatened her, and she was completely herself.

  My love for her pained me deep inside. As soon as I knew for sure that she was well again, I'd have to leave her.

  I returned her smile. "Beautiful," I confirmed, and I didn't just mean the landscape.

  "Come," she encouraged. "Let's go for a little walk."

  "But not too far," I warned.

  She laughed at my concern. "I promise I won't collapse. I'll be careful."

  We walked quietly along, side by side. She picked up a twig from the ground and smelled it. Then she bent down to investigate some flowers that were growing in the underbrush. "You like to be out in nature," I concluded.

  "Yes," she explained casually, "I grew up in the country."

  "In the country - you?" I asked, totally amazed.

  She looked up at me from her crouch. "You thought I was a city kid, right?"

  "To be honest, yes. I never would've come to a different conclusion by myself." Her external appearance really didn't lead one to that thought, either. A woman like her!

  "I am now, actually," she said regretfully, looking around. She stood up and brushed the dirt from her hands on her jeans.

  "Not entirely." I laughed and pointed at her dirty pants. "I don't think something like that would happen to a city woman." That made her even more lovable!

  She looked down at herself and laughed with me. "Probably not. When I'm out here, I never think about things like that." She sighed and looked toward the edge of the woods. "Unfortunately, though, I don't get out here very often."

  I went over to her and put my arms around her waist. "But you're here now." I looked up at her. "Let's enjoy it. Where are the prettiest spots?"

  Her gaze wandered off to the left. She raised an arm. "There's a clearing back there, completely hidden off in the woods. Sometimes I spend the whole day there, when I have time."

  I got the impression that this was a very private place for her. "But that's your space," I objected.

  She smiled enchantingly at me. "I'll show it to you."

  We walked over to it slowly. The soft ground sprang back under every step. One could walk around here for hours without getting tired. The asphalt of the big city suddenly seemed to me like a completely perverse sensation.

  I would never have guessed where we'd find the clearing. If one didn't know exactly where to look, one could walk past it time and time again without ever noticing it was there.

  "It feels like we're on the hunt for the treasures of Atlantis," I marveled. "A real adventure!"

  "I felt something like that the first time I was here. I found it by pure coincidence. And I have yet to meet another person here." She pushed the last bough aside, and we stood in the middle of what felt like a little natural room.

  When I looked up, I saw the treetops waving high above me in the sunshine. The rays streamed down to the ground in a thousand bands of golden light.

  "I've seen things like this in photographs," I mused dreamily, "but never in nature."

  She looked up as well. "It's like its own little world. Its own sun, its own light. And no people." She let her head fall again and looked over at me. "Except you and I."

  I felt the tension that had suddenly appeared and wanted to remove a little of the intimacy. "Like Eve and Eve," I joked, "without Adam." Where was this supposed to lead? She was still much too fragile.

  Apparently, she thought differently. She walked toward me, and then leaned against one of the larger trees. If the snake was this seductive with Eve in Paradise, no wonder she picked the apple!

  She reached out her arms. "Come," she said softly.

  I couldn't resist her. I had been yearning for her the whole time. She let herself slide down the tree a little, so that she would be the same height as I was. It was as though I was hypnotized by her mouth. I let myself fall into her arms and kissed her.

  At first, it was a tremendous relief to touch her at last, finally to be able to kiss her. Then I noticed that her kiss was different than usual. She was kissing me back, but with less passion than experience, and she had enough of the latter that it was hard to tell the difference. I pulled back. "You're in pain," I remarked.

  "No," she contradicted immediately. She tried to pull me back to her.

  I braced myself against the tree trunk. "Yes," I repeated. "You usually kiss differently."

  She lifted her face to mine and ran her lips softly across mine. "Isn't it good?"

  Oh, now I had to watch out! This was drifting in the wrong direction. But I couldn't. Her proximity made me completely defenseless. "Don't," I pleaded. She just looked at me.

  I let myself sink forward and kissed her again. I tried to be careful, but she kept going deeper. She knew I couldn't resist her kisses. I had told her that myself.

  Slowly, she let herself glide down along the tree. The soft forest floor was more comfortable than any bed. She lay next to me. I caressed her thighs, then reached her bottom and let my hand rest there. She began to undress me. When I began to caress her again, she began to moan. That reminded me of something.

  I pushed gently away from her. "You're acting," I stated conclusively.

  "No," she argued immediately. "I want you." She slid her hands under by shirt again, trying to convince me. "Come on, let me. You want it too."

  Her hand against my skin should easily have brought me to boiling, but I walled myself off from it. "I want it," I admitted. "I know that. But I can also tell that you're not in the mood."

  She pulled her hand away. "That's the worst part," she explained, discouraged. "I am in the mood. But only in my head. My body doesn't feel anything."

  "So you are in pain." I knew it.

  "Yes," she admitted hesitantly. "But it's really not that bad." She looked at me. "You have to believe me. I really do want you."

  When she looked at me that way, I would've believed anything she said!

  "I believe you," I said honestly. "But that's why you shouldn't put on a show for me. We'll just have to wait."

  "But you don't have to wait." She caressed the skin under my shirt again. "Not on my account." Her hand wandered over to my breast. It was as if I had been struck by lightning. I moaned involuntarily. "You won't notice any difference," she assured me.

  That brought me back to my senses.
I grew angry. But she couldn't help it. She just wanted to do something nice for me. I controlled myself.

  I laid my hands on her shoulders and held her at a distance. "Yes, I know," I said. "You're a professional."

  She looked at me with dismay.

  "I don't mean that in a bad way," I pacified her. "I know that you have enough experience and skill to bring me incredible pleasure, even when you don't get anything from it yourself."

  "I'd love to," she said earnestly.

  I smiled at her. "Yes. But for me, it takes two." I gazed at her understandingly. "I'll wait."

  "You told me how much you desired me. And I felt it." She hung her head. "I wanted you to -".

  "I know," I interrupted her. "But I'll wait anyway." I laughed good-naturedly. "It'll be good practice for me!"

  She got mad. "But I want you, too! It's just that this body won't let me!" She punched herself in the thigh. Immediately, she yelped in pain. She wanted to hit herself again.

  I held her arm. "Stop it! What are you doing?"

  She looked at me with blazing eyes. "How long do you want to wait? Perhaps I'll never be able to feel anything again!"

  I held onto her arm. What was making her so angry? This was a completely natural reaction.

  She tried to pull free. "It's her fault!" She screamed angrily, "It's all her fault!"

  I was too surprised to think quickly enough. "Who?" I asked automatically.

  "Her!" she hissed with all the rage in her being. "You saw her yourself!"

  I was too upset to be ashamed at our last uncomfortable encounter. That would come later. "She?" I asked, horrified. "She did this to you?"

  She laughed bitterly. "Not alone, of course. She knew she'd never be able to do it alone." Now I couldn't hold her back anymore. It streamed out of her like a swamp of bile and vitriol. "She came that evening, unannounced again. I was actually already done for the day." She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Heaven knows why I even opened the door." She looked over at me. "I have a client who sometimes comes at that time. Maybe I thought it was her." She looked out across her knees again. "At first, they tried to talk me into it. A special threesome - very special. I declined. Then they got more direct. They threatened me. But in my experience, there's usually nothing behind that kind of threat. I'm too tall. That scares most of them away. So at first, I didn't take it seriously. But suddenly, one of them had handcuffs in her hand. The other one held me down, and at that point there was nothing I could do."

  She had to take a break. She was obviously reliving it all. She laid her head on her knees and spoke into her lap. "They did everything with me that I wouldn't do for her the last time. They beat me, they raped me." Her voice got softer and softer, until at the end it disappeared completely.

  I was completely paralyzed. I'd seen her, I'd seen how she looked. But to hear it from her now and imagine this huge woman in leather before me, hitting her... And the rape? Could that be the reason why she was completely numb now? That's why she was so angry!

  I sat up and took her crumpled body in my arms. I cautiously began to rock her gently. Her body shook. I swayed with her back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum. Slowly, the shaking got stronger. I couldn't do anything but hold her.

  Suddenly, she screamed. Then she whispered painfully, "It hurt so much. It hurt so horribly much!"

  I rocked her again. All at once, I felt her tears. She was crying - finally! I let her cry until nothing more would come. She was totally worn out. I lay down on the ground with her and let the warm forest floor do the rest. She fell asleep, completely exhausted.

  After an hour, it got too cold to stay on the ground. I woke her carefully. It took her a moment to get her bearings. Disoriented, she looked around and then at me. Then she remembered everything. She sat up higher and leaned against the tree, away from me.

  "What did I tell you?" She seemed very protective again. I couldn't blame her. She was afraid.

  "Everything," I said quietly.

  She covered her face with her hands. "No, not that!" she groaned, horrified.

  I stood up and crouched down next to her. Then I took her wrists and pulled them gently away. She hung her head. I kissed her left wrist. The marks were still readily visible. The handcuffs had cut into her so deeply, even the best makeup couldn't disguise her wounds. They hadn't just handcuffed her. They must have tied her to something as well. I felt her agony almost physically. It wouldn't have taken much more for me to moan aloud myself.

  I pulled myself together. They hadn't, after all, hit me - I didn't even want to think about the rest - she had had to live through it.

  I kissed the other wrist and then the palm of her hand. "Come." I tried to encourage her gently with the tone of my voice. "I'll take you home."

  She didn't look up. She held her head low against her chest. I laid down next to her and looked up from below. I saw what she was thinking. "No!" I insisted, dismayed. "You're not ashamed, are you?"

  "I never should have told you about it," she mumbled gloomily.

  I kneeled next to her. "But it's not your fault!" I bent over and took her in my arms. She let me, but it felt like she was a limp, lifeless doll.

  "It's not your fault," I repeated. "You shouldn't be ashamed of what they did to you." How could she ever come to that conclusion?

  She still didn't look up. "I am what I am," she whispered self-tormentingly. "With someone else, it wouldn't even have occurred to them to do this."

  "I have to doubt that," I countered energetically. This self-defeating, self-deprecating attitude had to come to an end somewhere! "If they had something like that in mind, they would've found a victim anywhere. You or someone else."

  She wouldn't let herself be convinced that easily. Her self-esteem was too low. "That's what I'm there for." She was summoning her arguing skills.

  "That's not what you're there for!" I stood up and yanked her up with me. She cried out in pain. "I'm sorry," I apologized, "but you have to finally wake up." She looked at me, distraught. Her eyes were still swollen from crying.

  "What you told me was absolutely awful, but you are not responsible for it!" I had spoken with great emphasis, but she stood there as if she hadn't heard me at all. I shook her. She moaned again from pain. I couldn't stand much more of this! I felt it right down to my core. "Do you hear me?" I shouted loud and clear. "It wasn't you. They did it!"

  "They did it," she repeated obediently, like a school child. It still sounded like it didn't have anything to do with her personally.

  "Yes," I sighed, slightly relieved nonetheless. I took her in my arms again. "Not you. It was them."

  "Them," she echoed again, tonelessly. She laid her head on my shoulder. Soon, I felt her tears again. At least she'd gotten that far - she was able to cry again.

  I let her rest a little, and then said softly, "Come on, let's go."

  Her apathy continued all the way back to the apartment. I sat her in the kitchen and convinced her to eat something. Then I made coffee, and we went into the little salon. She looked exhausted again, but she didn't want to sleep. Probably, she was afraid of nightmares, now that everything was so fresh in her memory again. We sat and drank our coffee in silence.

  "Don't you have to go back to work?" she asked suddenly. Did she want to get rid of me?

  "I had this week free anyway," I replied readily. I watched for her reaction. There wasn't any. "If I need to stay here next week, I can call."

  "You don't need to stay here." She answered with an expressionless voice, as if none of this affected her at all.

  "I'll stay until you're completely healthy." I had already made that decision. Then she could do whatever she wanted!

  "I am healthy," she claimed, still without expression.

  "I don't believe that." It wasn't easy to make her happy, and it seemed just as difficult to argue with her stubbornness. But I could be stubborn, too! We'd see who was better!

  "The doctor said -" she began.

&
nbsp; I finished her sentence. "The doctor said you should take it easy for another week." If this was taking it easy, this battle with her tormenting memories, I didn't want to see what making an effort looked like!

  She sat there in her armchair and looked horribly alone. She didn't answer me; she probably considered it pointless. I went over to her. I crouched next to her and laid my hands on her knee. I looked at her face, which stared blankly and emotionlessly ahead.

  "You're sweet." It was just a simple statement. Another argument seemed unlikely to get anywhere with her at this point. "Did you know that?"

  Her gaze moved to me, somewhat uncomprehending. She hadn't expected that.

  "Can't you imagine," I explained, "that I enjoy doing this for you?"

  She couldn't. I could see that clearly. I tried to hold her attention with my voice. "You are the most lovable woman I've ever met. You make me feel so good inside, I don't know how I'll ever be able to return the favor." While I spoke to her, I observed her face. It relaxed a little, but the uncomprehending look remained. "I love you and I desire you in a way I've never experienced before in my life."

  Aha! Now she'd found a clue. She grabbed onto it, though she didn't yet quite understand it, "But you don't want to sleep with me as long as I don't feel anything." She looked at me honestly. This terrain was familiar to her. "Although you desire me."

  It was apparent from her facial expression that my willing restraint was still incomprehensible to her. And also that she thought of this as sufficient grounds for me to leave her.

  "Is that so important to you?" How could I let her see the situation through my eyes, to make this self-explanatory to her?

  "But if you can't sleep with me...," she objected uncertainly.

  I had to smile. She was so used to this, she couldn't imagine it any other way. "What's left then?" I asked with intentional simplicity.

  The consequences were absolute in her mind. "Well, then you can't..."

  "Then I can't love you either?" I said it for her. "Do you think that my love for you depends on the availability of your body?"

  "Yes, of course." She was convinced of that. It came out as though it had been fired from a pistol. She'd hardly said it when her professional conscience took over. "Didn't you enjoy sleeping with me?" She was truly irresistible when she looked remorseful like that! I had to gulp. "Have I -?" she added.