Chapter 4

At the top of the spiral staircase are two suites, where the two owners once lived. Charlotte pushes open the door on the left. The sun has set, and the deep, luscious purple of the walls absorbs what little light there is. Far off, at the opposite wall, she can see the glass doors that lead to a balcony looking out over the Atlantic, a view that reminds her of the vast space between the four of them and the places they came from. Boston is only 90 or so minutes away, and yet it feels like the ocean could engulf them.

Charlotte flips on the light, which illuminates the room in the same purple color as the walls. It’s dim, but she can make out things that she recognizes from the documentary, but still cause her to almost drop her bag. A large wooden ‘X’ stands against one wall, with straps at the edges, presumably for wrists and ankles. Next to it, a series of floggers, paddles, and other implements sits on a shelf. The large, heart-shaped bed has restraints on it as well. The bathroom, which she can see to her right, follows the same color pattern, and the huge shower has a bench in it, the intent of which she can guess at. The rest of the room is spotted with furniture she doesn’t recognize, or has only seen on Netflix. And, of course, mirrors, including one on the ceiling above the bed. The sight of the room makes her step back. There’s a feeling in her stomach that she can only consciously place as apprehension or discomfort, though it’s not the same as her feelings before a big test.

“Maybe you two want to take this one?” she says to Mel and Toby.

Mel steps forward, looks around, whistles. “Jesus. You didn’t tell me this is what you meant by ‘matriarchy.’” That man she had pictured herself dancing with earlier? Now, she sees him naked, bent over that bench. Her skin tingles at the thought.

Toby pushes forward, dumping his bag on the bed. “You don’t think you’re putting me on any of these fucking things, I hope.”

Mel rolls her eyes but says nothing. Alex and Charlotte say goodnight and walk down the hallway to the other room. The door closes and it feels otherworldly. The deep colors allow Mel to fade away, the sound of the ocean waves only interrupted by Toby unzipping his bag to pull out a pair of sweatpants. The cannabis in her brain helps her escape into the dynamic past. She notes the design of the room, how there’s clear spatial planning and intent behind not just the colors and structure but in the furniture, its choice and placement. It suggests to her that nothing here is newly added, except perhaps the many mirrors.

She leans against the St. Andrew’s cross. She’s seen this contraption in internet videos, and though she’s never enjoyed one in person, she’s certainly gotten off to the thought and sight of it, though whether she wants to put someone on it or be attached herself, she can’t decide. She’s relatively confident Toby won’t be up for it, though, and is disappointed that she was only able to bring him.