Chapter 6

Chris sat at his bench unpacking laptops to configure. Roger stormed in and glared at him. “Have you been sleeping with my sister?” he demanded. “Yes or no ... and if you have...”

Chris stood and looked Roger in the eye. “I will not dignify that question with an answer except to say that what two consenting adults do in private is nobody’s business except theirs.”

“I interpret that as, yes.”

“Interpret it as, no comment.”

“I know you were there. I drove past her house on Saturday afternoon and saw your car in the drive.”

“How do you know...”

“White Honda Civic coupe ... I saw it there again Sunday morning.”

“Roger ... How do you know...”

“I took down the plate number. My brother-in-law is a city cop. He ran it for me.”

“That sounds unethical-to-borderline-criminal to me.”

“I don’t give a shit about ethics when my sister is involved.”

“Didn’t she politely ask you to butt out of her business?”

“Her business becomes my business when her welfare is at stake. Now, tell me what you were doing there.”

“Okay ... Carmen asked me to come over and retrieve some photographs from a DVD-RAM she had. She also offered me the use of her washer and dryer so I wouldn’t need to haul my stuff to the Laundromat. Then, she revealed to me how her illness had disfigured her. To my shock and relief, I discovered she hadn’t been disfigured at all -- she had merely lost her hair.”

“Carmen considers that disfigurement in her own eyes.”

“And, who put that notion into her head? Brian?”

“What do you know of that son-of-a-bitch bastard? I blame him. I blame him for everything that happened. It was a good thing this all came down while I was deployed. Otherwise my brother-in-law would have had a homicide to deal with.”

“I only know what Carmen told me. She told me that he ditched her when he learned of her condition. She said she returned his ring.”

Roger pulled up a bench stool and sat facing Chris. “Yeah, the coward didn’t have the balls to ask for it back in person. It drove her crazy, Chris. She cut her wrists. We took her to professionals and she wouldn’t cooperate. We can’t help her if she doesn’t want help, they told us. We tried committing her, but she wasn’t delusional ... she wasn’t a threat to herself or others.”

“What about slashing her wrists?”

“The shrinks determined it was more a plea for help than true suicidal ideation. They couldn’t hold her, so they let her go. Our folks bought that bungalow for her, figuring a place of her own would help her adjust ... stop reminding her of the past. The only stipulation was, she had to pay enough rent to cover the carrying costs -- which she did, for the most part at least.” He shook his head. “She didn’t adjust. Instead she became a recluse ... covered the windows ... refused to show her face in public. She’d lock herself in dark rooms for days on end ... we don’t know what she ate or how she took care of herself. Dad was ready to throw in the towel, but Mom kept saying, give her time.” Roger cradled his forehead in his palm. “Both our folks died ... within three months of each other, without reconciling with Carmen.”

“Gosh, Roger. I’m so sorry. How?”

“Dad had a brain aneurysm. He went out for his morning stroll and never came back. We found him in a heap in the back yard. Mom was a heavy smoker and had emphysema. She had a crisis that turned into pneumonia and was gone in three days. There was no will. Probate awarded me our childhood home and Carmen got the bungalow ... or, to be precise, the equity in it. By now her travel columns had taken off and she had the means to finance it herself.” Roger looked into Chris’s eyes. “She didn’t attend either of their funerals, Chris.” He pressed his hand against his eyes. “Sorry...”

“Don’t be. It helps me understand her ... what she was going through.”

“I’ve been her link to the outside world, Chris. She’d return my calls when she wouldn’t Mom’s or Dad’s. That’s why when someone comes in and disrupts our routine, I worry.”

“Maybe Brian’s actions did trigger it,” Chris replied. “But, there’s culpability elsewhere. Didn’t you try ... loving her for the person she is?”

“It was like walking on eggshells around her,” Roger said. “We could never predict what would set her off and we were terrified that we’d drive her to another attempt.”

“I think a vicious cycle developed. Carmen considered herself disfigured and instead of ... demonstrating the wrongness of that thinking -- you reinforced it. With each cycle, in her own mind she became more and more hideous. I don’t think you did this on purpose. You might not even have been aware of what was happening with her. Roger -- when she revealed herself to me, what I saw was a beautiful woman -- maybe the most beautiful woman I have ever known. I believe losing her hair made her even more beautiful.”

“How could that be?” Roger asked.

“The shape of her head, her cranium ... the proportions -- she’s perfection, Roger. There are no bumps or depressions, no deformities or blemishes. On top of that she has a beautiful long slender neck that’s accentuated by her lack of hair. She is nothing short of ravishing.”

“She always wears those wide hats,” Roger said. “She never takes them off ... at least, not in front of anyone. How did you...”

“Love and trust, Roger. I love Carmen and she loves me. Through that love, she trusts me. By simply telling her she’s beautiful -- which she is...”

“She believed you.”

“Not right away,” Chris replied. “But every time I told her it cut away some of that ... false belief that Brian planted and that you all fed and nurtured, if unintentionally. After we recovered her photos and she ... revealed herself -- I asked her out to dinner.”

“And, she accepted?”

“She accepted. I made reservations at Nemo’s...”

“I know the place -- that seafood joint with those booths.”

“Yes, we had a booth, so it was private.”

“Just getting her out of the house like that was a major, major step, Chris. I’m impressed.”

“Then, on Sunday I suggested she open the drapes in the house and let some light in.”

“Did she?”

“She did, indeed. Then, she and I cleaned her house. We threw out junk, dusted, vacuumed ... polished the floors and woodwork. The place sparkles now, Roger. It took us all day. What do you think we did next?”

“I ... I don’t have any idea...”

“She walked with me -- bare-headed -- to the Penny Whistle, that Irish pub near her house.”

“I know it.”

“The place was busy and the booths were taken, so we sat in the middle of the dining room and had shepherd’s pie and bangers and mash, along with a couple pints of draft Guinness. After that we walked around the block to that little park, sat on a bench and watched the sunset. Then I walked her home.”

“Chris -- I cannot imagine my sister doing any of that.”

“She did -- it’s all true. She started to realize and accept that her condition wasn’t that awful or even that uncommon. I know you care for her, Roger ... though I think that care is more based in fear than in love. Carmen and I are good for each other. I love her. She trusts me to do right by her. We need you to trust me, too.”

Roger nodded. He stood, offered Chris his hand and they shook. “You’re a better man than I thought you were.”

“Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

“When are you going to see her again?”

“Well ... She’s working on a new column. You know how she submerges herself in that.”

“Yeah, I know. She can be incommunicado for days on end.”

“Saturday after next is the company picnic. I invited her to come along.”

“Did she accept?”

“She did, indeed. Are you coming?”

“We usually skip it. It’s more for kids and we don’t have any. But if she’s going to be there -- I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Chris dozed on his sofa. The sound of a dumpster door slamming outside, under his apartment window jolted him awake. On his television the animated main menu of a DVD looped through its screens. This time I even slept through the credits, he thought. He stood, ejected the disc and switched off his equipment.

He headed into his bedroom, shucked off his clothes and slipped into a pair of boxer shorts he wore to bed. Then, he turned down the covers, switched off the light and slid between his sheets. Closing his eyes, he let sleep overtake him.

Sensing a presence in his room he opened his eyes and saw a figure in a long white skirt and long-sleeved blouse standing by his door. “Christian,” she said.

“Carmen,” he replied. “Looks like you still have it.”

“Indeed I do. I’m so happy and excited, I wanted you to know. I know I promised not to visit you like this, but I didn’t think you’d mind. Look!”

“Look at what?”

She placed both hands behind her bald head. “Look at this. I’ve formed a new mental body image.”

“That’s right -- it’s the new Carmen ... not the old, pre-illness Carmen.”

“Do you know what it means, Christian? It means I’ve shed the demons that kept me locked up in darkness. I have you to thank for it.” She approached him and sat on his bed. “I see your mental body image hasn’t changed.”

Chris sat beside her and looked down. He was wearing faded and torn jeans and a tee shirt from his high school days. “Yes -- the eternal seventeen-year-old.”

Carmen sat on his lap and caressed his face. “I like the Elvis sideburns you wore in those days ... and your attempt at a moustache.”

“I never could grow one of those ... gave up trying in college.”

Carmen leaned toward his face and kissed his lips. “It’s been two days and I already miss you.” They kissed again. Chris began unbuttoning her blouse. but was unable to loosen the bottom button. “It’s okay,” she said and pulled her blouse open.

Underneath she wore a white bra. Chris reached around, his fingers following the back strap. “No hook,” he remarked.

“This one closes in front.” Carmen twisted the clasp and the cups fell to the side.

Chris began fondling her firm breasts. Already his arousal was building and his heart accelerating. He began rimming her areola with his tongue and sucking her firming nipple.

Carmen eased the hem of his tee shirt from the waistband of his jeans and lifted it to his armpits. Chris attempted to slide it off but couldn’t get the fabric above his shoulders. “It’s okay,” she said and smoothed her hands along his chest and abdomen. You were slender, then.”

“Yeah, I put on some weight through the years.”

“Just a little patch of chest hair.” Carmen ran her fingers through it.

“That came in later.”

She unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his waistband and unzipped his fly. She slid his jeans down around his calves. Underneath he wore a pair of white BVDs. “Your taste in underwear has improved,” she said with a sly smile.

“I was in high school for chrissake -- my mom bought my clothes.”

Carmen gathered the fabric of her skirt and lifted it. Underneath she wore white briefs. She slid them down and eased one foot from them, leaving them around her other leg. “Am I to understand we can’t actually remove any article of clothing?”

“That’s right,” she replied as she caressed his now very firm phallus through the fabric of his underpants. Carmen opened the flap fly and eased his shaft through it. Then, gathering and lifting her skirt she mounted him, kneeling over his hips. Chris held his manhood at its base and felt himself penetrating her and the warm, slick tissues of her vagina enveloping him as she eased herself down.