Part 4: Alice

Alice showed up. Listen to it. Three simple words with monstrous meaning. She wasn't there, and then she was. She was announced by the doorbell. The damned doorbell again! I should have heeded its warning. One instant everything was looking up and I was finished with that part of my life. Then she was standing in the doorway, looking straight at my chest, silent, like a ghost or a zombie or something. No! No, no, no, no, no!

"Get the fuck out of my life!" I slammed the door and locked it.

The doorbell rang again. I didn't answer it, but I was shaking and hyperventilating. Is this how it's going to be? You can't be prepared for it. You can't know what it will be like when she reappears.

She rang for an hour, every few minutes, and she knocked and called to me through the door, "Please. Henry. Please talk to me." I stayed away from it. I paced as quietly as I could. Don't let her hear you. Maybe she'll go away. I thought of her as a vampire. Just like him. She couldn't rip my chest open if I didn't invite her in. Yes she could.

Finally she grew quiet. After I'd looked out the window and not seen her, I decided it was safe to leave. I opened the garage door and backed the car out. It was explosively hot. Spring in Las Vegas. It felt like Hell, and to make sure I knew it was Hell, there sat Alice, on the porch, beside the front door, in a patch of shade, not looking at anything. I made sure to close the garage door, staring at its white panels moving down through the sunlight and urging it on. Hurry, hurry! By the time it was down I saw spots. Alice had raised her head and started to rise, stiffly, using the brickwork to help her up, but I was quick. I lowered the window: "You aren't welcome here! If you want to talk, see my lawyer. If you're still here when I get back I'm calling the police."

She stood up and said something, I think it was "please," and took a few steps toward me, but I didn't give her a chance.

Fuck. How to get rid of her? Fuck. The police would probably side with her. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Go away you Richard-sucking whore! I stayed the night in a motel.

The next morning I told my office manager to call security if Alice showed up there. "Don't you think you should talk to her?" she asked.

"Maybe you'd like to look for a new job, Sherrie!"

She stiffened.

"Look. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. But you don't know everything she did. I can't tell you the long version without it being sexual harassment."

Sherrie was quiet much of the day, canceling appointments for me again, while I sat in my office and stared out the window. About 4:30 she came in and shut the door. "Look, Henry, you can fire me if you want, but I've known you for a long time. You need to clear the air. Talk to her. Then you can go your different ways. You don't know all of why she did what she did, and it's time you stopped letting that asshole Moriarty control your life! That's all I have to say."

What had I done for weeks - months? - but try to talk with Alice? She wouldn't consider that while she had him. She'd had her chance. When I walked over to Sherrie she flinched like she thought I was going to hit her. I gave her a kiss on top of her head. "I know you mean well, but I just can't do that anymore."

All the way home I thought please don't be there. Please be gone. Please don't do this to me. I can't take it.

Alice was still sitting in that patch of shade.

Had she even moved? Was she going to sit there until she died? When she heard the garage door she got to her feet again, very slowly. I pulled in and closed it.

She didn't ring the bell, but when I peeked through a side window she was standing, leaning against the wall, her face in her hands. She looked sunburned. Jesus. Shit. What do I do now? What in the world do I do? I filled a large glass with water, walked to the door, opened it, and held the

glass out to her. "Here."

She was only about six or eight feet from the door, but it took her the longest time to get to me. She took the water and gulped it down. She drank it in two breaths. I took the glass back. Our hands touched. "Stay there."

I closed the door, went to the sink, refilled the glass, and brought it back to her. Again she stopped once for air while she drank it. I took the glass away again and closed the door. The third time I opened it I stood in the doorway and asked, "What do you want?"

She hesitated, as if she wanted to formulate some words. She made a raspy little crying sound, though there were no tears. When she spoke her voice was hoarse. "Oh, Henry. I want to come home." That was it.

"You can't stay with me."

"I want to come home. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." Her voice trailed off.

"Go away."

There was a silence for a minute.

"I don't have anywhere to go."

"Get yourself a place!"

"I don't have any money, or a job. I don't have you. I don't have anything..." She began moaning, sounding again like she wanted to cry but had too little water in her.

"Go to Deb's!" Now she began crying. So she had tears after all. She didn't try to wipe them. They rolled down her cheeks and onto her blouse.

"She won't speak to me."

"Why not? Just because you left me?"

"No. It was more. Please, Henry, listen. When I was with, you know, he said he wanted to do a thing with me and her together. So I called her and tried to get her to do it. I ruined everything." She put her hands to her face again, and this time her shoulders started shaking. She could hardly talk, gasping and sobbing and snarfing like she was. "What have I done? What have I done? Please help me, Henry. Help me!"

"So as a last resort you come to your old patsy Henry. Maybe you could make this more interesting by fucking someone in front of me!"

But she just kept shaking. Eventually she'd have to stop, wouldn't she? Finally she tried to talk again, though she stopped every few words to pant.

"Henry. I know, I know you hate me. I did the most terrible thing to you. But I need help. Please help me. If you could just let me stay here a few nights. Just a few? Please, Henry. You can do anything you want to me, I don't care! Just help me, please."

Let her stay. Let her invade my house and bring all that back. I didn't even ask why she didn't try to talk to Richard. Of course she'd tried. I bet he'd enjoyed that. What would Richard do anyway? An idea developed. What? Yes, that. Oh yes! Yes, this could be good, you whore.

"Come on in. I have something to show you." I led her to the den and put the DVD - yes that DVD - on the player. "Look at this, Alice." She was wiping her eyes and looking from me to the player, uncertain. When she figured out what it was she put her hands to her mouth and moaned.

"No! Not that! Turn it off!"

"Why? You were the main entertainment. I thought you'd like to see yourself perform. Didn't you like it?"

"No!"

"You didn't? Isn't it your perfect little fantasy?"

"No!"

I yelled at her. "And then you have the balls to come to me as your last resort? Poor dear Henry's supposed to let you use him again!"

"No, please! I need help!"

"At least you didn't completely lie! You didn't even bother to try to say you loved me!"

That was when I slapped her face as hard as I could. She huffed and turned almost all the way around, and her hands came up. When she turned back to me I could see my hand print on her cheek, much larger than the hand she held over it. "You fucking bitch! You said I could do whatever I want with you. Well, this is what I want!" I slapped her on the other side of her face. God, it felt good, and her cry was delightful, wonderful. I wanted to hear it over and over again.

"No! Please!"

I yanked one of her hands away and slapped her again. "You'll take your damn medicine..."

"No! Henry!" She was screaming and begging virtually at the same time. She pulled her arms up in front of her face, to protect herself.

"Take off your clothes!" I hit her in the belly with my fist. She half crumpled. "Do it now, you fucking slut!" My penis was swelling. Hit her again. Do it! Oh, sweet Jesus, she was going to pay.

I'd knocked the breath out of her. It was a moment before she could manage to say anything. "I'll do it! Please!" I slapped her again. She tried to unbutton her blouse but she couldn't with me hitting her, so I grabbed it and tore it all the way down the front. I grabbed her arm to turn her around and yanked the fastener to her bra. Suddenly her back was smooth and bare and lean. It gave me an idea. I slapped her back hard, leaving another lovely red handprint, and she staggered. I was completely erect now. Fuck, yes!

"Your skirt and panties! Hurry!"

"Please!" We were both yelling. She hurried, unfastening the skirt and pulling it and her panties down together. While she did that I took off my belt. The moment she was naked I whipped her with it.

"Take it, you bitch!" Alice screamed and jerked and twisted around, pulling her arms in front of her face again, but she didn't try to run. I whipped her again. She made a sound like a neighing horse. I liked it more than the other cries. In the middle of this I noticed her vagina was still bare. She was still shaving. The bitch! I turned the belt the other way. Hit her with the buckle end! "Take that for your cunt!" The belt whistled and made a jingling sound when it hit her labia. She grabbed herself. "This one is for sucking off Richard!" The buckle hit her side, and she fell to the floor. I pulled her onto her back. "Take that for soaking yourself in their jizz!" I whipped her on her belly.

She kept twisting. She was screaming continuously, begging me, "Please no! Please no!" I saw blood.

The next one hit her hip, the next one her side. "These are for ruining my life!" The one thing she never did was try to run. It was too bad, because I'd have liked to chase her down. I hit her again. Again. Again. Again. I hit her again and noticed she stopped responding. No cries, no squirming. I pulled the belt back and held it. Her arms had fallen away from her face. I hit her once more, but all she did was moan, low and soft, the sound of air seeping through a corpse's throat. I lifted an arm and dropped it. It was like cooked spaghetti. I hit her again, just to make sure. Nothing.

The idea came that I could tie her to the bed and whip her still more once she came around, then fuck her as much as I wanted. "Stay there!" I yelled, and went to get my neckties.

It was in the bedroom that I realized I was covered in sweat. I was shaking. I could hear my pulse beating in my ears. Shit! The bitch! Fucking bitch, getting me like this! She was going to stay here forever. She was never going to get out in the world again. She was going to be mine no matter what, and she would beg me to kill her but I'd make her keep taking it. I'd make her do things she'd never done for Richard. I'd start by making her suck me while I finished whipping her. I just had to make sure she never got away.

But she hadn't tried to run. What was that? There was this voice. It was mine. She didn't run. Why not? It was like she knew she deserved the whipping. She knew she deserved it.

Don't think of that!

That's why she sat outside so long. To punish herself.

Don't think of that! I have to go whip her some more, and make her suck me! Then I'll make her eat my shit!

But she didn't run, you bastard! Think of it!

A huge wave rushed from some earthquake far under the sea, along the coast and then deep into the desert, where it jostled the room, rocking it, making me sway, making me dizzy. I had to sit on the bed. There was no earthquake. Alice was the earthquake. She thought she deserved being whipped. No. Don't do that, Alice. Not that. Don't ruin my lovely rape, my beautiful torture, my vengeance. My chest was tight. My head was exploding. It hurt. It was killing me, but I didn't care. Not that, Alice. Please. No. I put my head down in my lap and felt my blood pound.

When I could get up I went out to look at her. My shirt was wet. My hair was plastered to my head. I leaned against the doorframe and wondered how to approach her. What had I become? She was making little sounds, but I really couldn't tell if she was completely conscious until I knelt over her and touched her. She opened her eyes wide and shrieked, "No more! Please! No more! No more!" She scurried back to the coffee table, moving like a crab, then brought her arms and legs up until she was curled in a ball, almost fetal. She stared at me like you would at the man who was going to carry out the hanging and drawing and quartering. She shook, and her breath came in little bursts.