Promises

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons is entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual situations are at least eighteen years old.

As always, any political, social or religious views in this story are those of the characters and their circumstances, and don’t necessarily reflect those of the author.

SPECIAL NOTE: I don’t claim any unique expertise when it comes to mental conditions, but the situations described in this and future installments of this story are actually pretty tame compared to some in the annals of psychology. Let’s not get too wrapped around the axle trying to tie them to actual cases in the literature. The mind is an extraordinary thing, and we’re all just having fun here after all.

*****

PART SEVEN — Things Are Not At All What They’d Seemed

Kira is being held tight, a hand clamped across her mouth and a large butcher’s knife to her throat. Her assailant has heard me coming.

“Raul,” I say calmly, “put down the knife and let her go.”

Instead, he clamps down on Kira even tighter. Her eyes are wide with fear, but not just from the knife at her throat. She’s looking around uncomprehendingly. I get a flash of what she was like the first time I met her, when she went from scared child to brash and confident woman. This transition seems to be going the other way, though. I can’t recall ever seeing another human being look so terrified, bewildered and vulnerable.

“If you come closer, I will cut her throat,” Raul warns, starting to move toward the open back door. Part of me says I should let him go because he will probably release her in the doorway and make a break for it, but I can’t be sure. He might slash her before running, assuming (rightly) that I’ll stop to tend to her rather than pursue him. I can’t let that happen.

“If you don’t release Kira unharmed right now,” I say, looking him straight in the eye, “I will hunt you down and kill you, no matter where in the world you run.”

His fear of me is visceral and I’m frankly astounded that he’s been so daring as to use his key to slip in the back way. He must have seen me leave but failed to notice that I hadn’t gone far.

We have a bit of a stalemate now. My mind, which can never seem to stop multitasking, observes that this is a literal “Mexican Standoff.” That thought doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, though, because from behind me a roundish brown object streaks across the room, striking Raul squarely in the face. My surprised mind registers that it’s a coconut.

It’s hardly a fatal impact, but the shock is enough for Raul to loosen his grip for just a moment. Kira squirts free, racing toward the bathroom. With his hostage gone, and momentarily disoriented by the blow to his face, Raul blindly waves the knife at me as I rush forward.

I block a wild knife thrust with a forearm and grab his wrist, twisting it to the side and forcing him to spin away from me. I yank his arm up behind his back in a classic chicken wing hold, but in my rage at what he’s tried to do to Kira, I don’t stop at the point that usually incapacitates an opponent and makes him give in. Instead, I keep right on going. Raul shrieks horribly as things in his elbow and shoulder tear. The knife clatters to the floor.

I let go of his ruined arm now and whip him into a headlock, applying pressure and having no intention of stopping this time. After what he’s done to Kira, I’m going to exact my revenge and end his miserable existence. His ear-splitting shriek ends mid-note.

Logic returns just in the nick of time, though, and holds me back. If I kill Raul, the legal repercussions are more likely to keep me away from Kira just when she needs my protection from her more professional pursuers. My number one priority is her safety, and killing her now-helpless assailant in front of at least two witnesses won’t serve that purpose. Instead, I quickly palm the side of his head and ram it against the wooden center pole of the bungalow. He drops to the floor like a rag doll.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gabriela scoop up the coconut (which is still rolling across the polished teak floor) and race toward him, murder in her eyes. I finally make the obvious connection. Raul is the man who’d tried to rape her in the dormitory shower the day before. Her diminutive size probably made her the same kind of target as Kira. From the look in the maid’s eye, I’m thinking he may have been better off if I’d killed him. Oh well. He took his chances and lost.

Anna is several steps ahead of me, racing into the bathroom after Kira. The smaller woman has wedged herself between the toilet and the wall, sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest in a fetal position. Her eyes are wild with fear as she looks around uncomprehendingly. In her panicked scrambling, she’s knocked a couple of shampoo bottles onto the floor, one of which I manage to step on. The top blows off and the blue, viscous fluid shoots out across the tiles.

“Where am I?” Kira screams hysterically. Then, and much, much worse, she looks at me with complete terror and confusion.

“Who are you?” she wails.

I take a step backwards in shock, but my bare foot lands on the slippery puddle of Suave and I feel my legs go out from underneath me. I turn to try and catch myself, but the edge of the soaking tub is coming up fast.

* * * * *

I wake in some sort of medical facility. I’m still naked under a light sheet, almost fully reclined in a bed with rails. A middle-aged female doctor is standing over me with a penlight in her hand, likely in the process of checking the reactions of my pupils to light. That shouldn’t be necessary now.

Then I notice that there are two very dour looking police officers standing against the wall, watching me like hawks.

“Where am I?” I croak. “How’s Kira?” The doctor either doesn’t understand English or is pretending ignorance to avoid having to talk to me. She picks up her clipboard, gives me a curt nod, then strides out of the room.

The officers just stare when I attempt to communicate with them, but they yell and begin moving forward when I start to get out of bed. I desist, but I’m worried as hell about Marco’s goons. How long have I been out? There are no windows or clocks in the room. For all I know, night has fallen and they’ve been running loose on the island for hours, looking for Kira and her laptop. Hopefully, Anna has filled the police in about the threat.

The officers continue to stare at me for what seems like another hour. I’ve never felt so helpless. At least my forced inactivity allows me time to sort out my memories and make sure my mental faculties have fully recovered. Eventually, I’m sure I can recall every event leading up to my clumsy fall.

My anxiety keeps building and I’m on the verge of trying to shove my way past the cops, but then another police officer walks in. He’s a relatively big guy, maybe six foot two, and the deference of the other officers tells me that he ranks them.

“Hello, Señor Malakhov,” he says in a surprisingly high voice for a man his size. “You are in the hospital here in Cozumel. I am Police Inspector Esquebel.”

Finally, someone who speaks English. I pledge that I will learn at least the basics of Spanish if I ever come to Mexico again. “Please tell me how Kira, uh, Teri is doing. Is she okay?”

He nods. “Señorita Zwilling is in another room in this hospital. She was not injured, but the doctors want her to stay overnight to make sure she is all right.”

It’s Señora Carlisi, not Señorita Zwilling, but I don’t see the utility in quibbling.

“Look, Inspector, her husband has sent a couple of guys down here to kill her and destroy evidence of his crimes. She needs to be protected.” I try to keep my voice level, calm and serious, hoping I don’t sound crazy.

Esquebel’s face is carefully neutral. “I am aware of the situation and can assure you that the young lady is in no danger.”

“Have they been apprehended?”

“No, but it is not an issue. That is something you will need to talk to her about.”

“I’d like to do that. Am I free to go?”

“Soon. I have some questions I must ask you first.” He gives me a look that says this is no mere request.

I know it would be smart to have a lawyer with me for this, but I’m not sure how that works in Mexico. Do they have something like Miranda here? I might have asked him about that, but I can plainly see in his body language that he doesn’t think I’m a criminal, and isn’t planning on charging me with anything. I really need to see Kira, and being difficult with him will only delay that.

I take a deep breath and bow to the inevitable. “Of course, Inspector.”

He nods to one of the other officers, who brings my bed to nearly upright, then resumes his position against the wall. The other officer is setting up a video camera on a tripod.

“I would like to record this conversation,” Esquebel says. “Will that be acceptable?”

“Sure, that’s okay.”

The camera is ready to go, so Esquebel turns and speaks some rapid-fire Spanish in its direction before turning back to me. Then we spend about thirty minutes going over everything that happened from when I arrived in Mexico. I’m honest with him, even when he asks if Kira and I were intimate. I start to worry, not knowing if there are any laws about polyamory in Mexico. Happily, he doesn’t ask the same questions about Anna, evidently assuming that she is just a friend of ours.

I tell him about the confrontation with Raul, only leaving out the hold I’d put him in and just how close I’d come to killing him.

“Señor Villarreal has a large number of deep bruises on his face,” Esquebel says. “He was evidently struck many times with a coconut.”

“I’m afraid I have no memory of anyone striking him in the face, other than the one hit from Gabriela’s throw,” I say, which is technically true. I can guess what happened, though, and I wish I’d seen it. Gabriela must have really exacted her revenge.

Esquebel’s expression tells me that he already knows how Raul got those bruises, but doesn’t much care. We discuss what happened after I disabled Raul.

At last he seems satisfied that he’s covered all his bases.

“Are you going to interview Teri and Anna,” I ask, as the other officers pack the camera and tripod.

“I have already interviewed Señorita Jacobson and Señora Martinez, the maid from the resort.”

Oh. “And what about Raul?”

“Señor Villarreal is in custody here at the hospital and will be arrested as soon as he regains consciousness.”

“He’s still unconscious? I hope he wasn’t permanently injured.” I’m lying through my teeth, of course.

“He regained consciousness in the ambulance, but was in intense pain. He was taken into surgery to repair severe internal damage to his right shoulder, after giving me his full confession.” Esquebel’s face momentarily twists into an expression of intense disgust. “It seems he has committed many sexual crimes against women and children over the years.”

I have a picture in my mind of Raul begging for painkillers, while Esquebel demands answers to all his questions first. I barely suppress a smile at the thought.

“Thank you for talking to me, Señor Malakhov, he says at last. “How long are you planning to stay in Mexico?”

I’m pretty certain that Kira and I won’t be flying out this afternoon after all. “Teri and I have tickets for a flight on Sunday afternoon,” I say.

“Very well. Probably we will not need you to come back for Señor Villarreal’s trial.”

“Good.” Oops. I see the look on his face. “Though I certainly plan to visit Cozumel again in the future,” I quickly add. “This island is a very beautiful place.”

Esquebel smiles. “It is, and we take great pride that everything here is pleasant and safe for our guests. You have my apologies that your actions became necessary. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay. You are free to go as soon as the doctor says you may. I will send her in.” He hands me his card, then takes his leave. Moments later, the doctor returns.

“You sustained a concussion, Mr. Malakhov,” she says in barely accented English, confirming for me that her earlier incomprehension had been feigned. “You should be just fine. You may take aspirin or ibuprofen if you have any lingering pain.”

“Am I free to go?”

“If you feel you are ready. You arrived without any clothing, but a very tall American woman was here earlier and left some for you.”

Thank goodness for Anna.

The doctor calls an orderly in and the two of them help me to my feet, making sure I’m steady. For the first time in a couple of days, I’m embarrassed about my nudity, but it helps that neither of them seems to care about that. Hey, they’re medical professionals.

My head indeed hurts, but I have no difficulty standing and feel no dizziness. The doctor’s eyes go wide as she realizes just how tall I am.

“I’m good,” I say.

“Very well,” she says. “Your clothes are sitting on the chair behind you. Someone will be here with your release forms in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, doctor.” She nods and walks out, leaving the male orderly to keep an eye on me while I dress. It takes less than a minute, and I’m happy to find my wallet in my back pocket.

The orderly leaves, but comes right back with my paperwork. Five minutes later, I’m good to go. I’m hoping to find Anna waiting for me, but she’s not in the waiting room or the lobby. I go to the front desk. The digital clock on the wall says it’s been almost three hours since the confrontation in the bungalow.

“I’m here to see Kitty Theresa Carlisi,” I say, using her married name. The receptionist speaks fluent English, but finds no listing.

“It might be under ‘Zwilling’,” I say. Sure enough, that’s it. He gives me the room number and I head for the elevator.

The door is closed, so I tap lightly. “Come in,” says a male voice with a New England accent. I step into the room and see Kira lying on a hospital bed, fast asleep. Her face looks drawn, like she’s been through some kind of trauma, but she doesn’t appear to be hooked up to any machines. I want to rush to her, but beyond the bed, sitting in the hospital’s standard issue chairs, are Anna and a middle-aged couple. The woman has a startled look on her face, probably because of my size, but neither of them looks at all pleased to see me.

“Hi, I’m-”

“Are you the man who kidnapped Teri?” the man interrupts, getting to his feet.

“Carl,” the woman says, putting a restraining hand on his arm.

Anna’s face is warning me to be careful.

“I’m Peter Malakhov, Kira’s… I mean Teri’s boyfriend,” I say, less inclined to be obsequious now that I’ve been falsely accused of a major felony. “And I’ve never kidnapped anyone. Who exactly are you?”

“We’re Carl and Marsha Zwilling,” he says. “We’re her parents.”

Huh?

“That’s not possible,” I protest. “Her parents were killed in a crash.” But even as I speak, I realize that these two each have a very strong physical resemblance to Kira.

“We most certainly are her parents,” the man says indignantly, “and now I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I’m about to tell him that I’m not going anywhere without Teri, but Marsha hits me with a question of her own. “Did you have sex with our little girl?”

That makes me pause, but there’s no use denying it or trying to weasel out on the technicality that we didn’t have intercourse. I nod. “Yes.”

She bursts into tears. “I should have watched over her more carefully.”

I’m not moved by her emotion. “Teri isn’t a child,” I say. “She’s in her twenties, and she’s married.” But even as I say that, my mind is quickly churning through all the possibilities. Kira obviously misled me about the death of her parents. What else might she have misspoken about?

Anna comes to my side. “Peter, I think we need to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Kira. Those two mafia goons are still…” I come to a stop and look at Anna.

She confirms my thought. “That’s right, Peter. No mafia. Please, if you have any trust in me at all, you must believe that you can’t do any good here right now. Your talking to Teri can only hurt her. Let’s go somewhere private so I can explain what’s going on.” The pleading look in her eyes does more than her words to convince me. I want, I need, to be with Kira, but maybe Anna and I should talk first.

I nod. “Okay, let’s go.”

Then we all hear a tiny, timid voice from the bed. “I know you.” Kira has woken and is staring across the room at me.

“Oh, thank God,” I say. “You remember me now.” I begin to move toward her, but then stop when I see her expression.

There is some recognition in her eyes, but also deep, intense fear. It’s the very same look of terror I’d seen on her face when I first met her in Minneapolis.

“You’re the man from in front of my house,” she gasps, then turns and reaches out with both arms for her mother, who quickly leans in and envelopes her daughter in a tight embrace.

“Teri, we came to Mexico together as friends,” I say desperately, “then we fell in love. Don’t you remember that?”

She begins to cry.

“Leave!” her father orders, and I feel Anna’s hands on my arm. My mind is swirling with a thousand questions, but I let her pull me out the door.

“What in the hell is going on here?” I demand as she leads me down the hall and into a richly decorated, but thankfully deserted waiting room. She’s silent until we’re seated together on a couch.

Anna sighs, and I can see how this has been hard on her too. “Peter, the long and short of it is that Teri is physically fine, but was having a psychotic episode from the time you met her, right up until her encounter with Raul snapped her out of it. The girl you just saw in that room is a very different person than the woman we fell in love with, but it’s the real Kitty Theresa Zwilling.”

The emotions I’ve been experiencing are about the strongest I’ve ever had, but I finally get them under control. “Okay Anna,” I say with a resigned sigh, “why don’t you tell me about it in whichever order you think is best.”

She nods, then gives me a smile and a quick rub of my shoulder. “There’s the Peter I know.”

I shrug helplessly, so Anna gets down to business. “Teri doesn’t remember anything that happened, from the moment she first saw you, right up until Raul assaulted her.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth, Peter. The last thing she remembers is being accosted by a seven-foot-tall man outside her house in Minnesota. Then she wakes up in a strange, tropical place, totally naked, and with another scary man holding a knife to her throat.”

I try to imagine that. “Oh wow,” I murmur. “If that’s what she experienced, it’s no wonder she was hysterical back at the bungalow.”

“Yeah, and then you show up again, also naked, threatening to kill the guy with the knife. When she gets loose, she sees you practically tear the guy’s arm off and smash his head in. Then the two of us rush into the bathroom where she’s trying to hide, calling her by a name she doesn’t recognize. To top it off, you slip and knock yourself out.”

I nod ruefully. “Even as I was falling, I felt like an idiot for that one.”

“Not your fault, but it made for a pretty chaotic situation. Having me naked in the bathroom didn’t help calm Teri down much either. I left her alone at that point and checked to make sure you were breathing, then went out into the main room and got Gabriela to stop pulping Raul’s face. I sent her into the bathroom since she was fully clothed and I knew that Teri speaks fluent Spanish.

“Raul was breathing, so I rolled him onto his stomach to make sure he didn’t choke on all the blood from his broken nose and teeth. You two really did a number on him.”

“He had it coming.”

“Indeed, and if I hadn’t been so busy, I might have gotten a few licks in myself. Instead, I called the front desk, requesting the police and a couple of ambulances, then threw on some clothes and grabbed some for Teri. When I got back to the bathroom, I found that Gabriela was very confused as well. I gathered that Gabriela had met the two of you before, but now Teri didn’t know her from Eve. Still, she was doing what she could to reassure Teri that she was safe.

“Gabriela took the clothes I handed her and got Teri dressed, which helped her a lot. Teri didn’t recognize anything else, but at least her own clothes were familiar. Meanwhile, I checked your pulse and made sure you were still breathing okay. I stayed with you until the resort’s medical staff arrived a few minutes later.

“Teri was still quite agitated and not listening to any explanations, so they went ahead and gave her a sedative. She was functionally comatose by the time the first ambulance crew arrived. They insisted on taking Raul first because he looked like he was near death, so you had to wait a while longer. I took the opportunity to grab some clothes for you as well.”

“Thanks for that by the way. You’ve got a very level head in a crisis.”

Anna shrugs. “It’s something you learn when you grow up on a farm. When the shit hits the fan, you’ve got to do whatever it takes. And often there isn’t anyone there to help.”

“I suppose not.”

“The resort doctor made sure you were stable until the second ambulance arrived and rolled you away. Gabriela volunteered to go with you so that there would be someone who could explain to the hospital staff what had happened to you.”

“Wow, good kid. I owe her.”

Anna nods. “After that, the doctor drove Teri and me to the hospital. I would have gone with you, since you were injured worse, but I figured she needed to have someone with her who could answer her questions. And I knew you’d want me to stay with her.”

“You figured right, of course.”

“The doctors put Teri in a room with the promise of a visit from the consulting psychologist. She was calmer now, but still wasn’t absorbing anything I said. She did ask to use my phone to call her parents, though. Knowing they were long dead, I figured she was still out of it, but humored her and let her try to call them.

“I could hear a faint voice at the other end, then Teri asked me where we were. I told her the name of the hospital and which room she was in. She repeated it into the phone, then said goodbye, hung up, and handed it back to me. Teri said her parents were on the way, then she curled up and went to sleep. A nurse came in then and said she was supposed to sit with Teri, so I went looking for you.

“The police wouldn’t let anyone into your examining room, but they did let me leave your clothes for you. Your doctor told me your CAT scan was normal and she expected that you’d be fine, so I headed back to Teri’s room and found her supposedly long-dead parents there. That’s when I realized that something truly strange was going on.”

“How in the hell did they get here so fast?” I’m sure my voice is way too loud for the room.

“Please, Peter, let me tell you all this stuff chronologically. I promise I’ll answer any questions you may still have when I’m done.”

I take a deep breath and nod.

“As you might imagine, Carl and Marsha were really confused about what had happened to their daughter. Teri was still asleep, but the nurse was gone and no one seemed to know anything.”

“Naturally, the first thing I asked them was how come they were still alive. And beyond that, how on earth did they get here so fast? Of course they had a lot of questions for me, but before any of us could answer any of each other’s questions, a cop walked in with questions of his own.”

“Inspector Esquebel?”

“That’s the guy. He interviewed us for about an hour. What he heard must have about blown his mind.”

“I can’t wait to hear it myself,” I say, unable to hide my impatience.

“That’s why we’re here, Peter,” she says calmly.

“Sorry Anna. You’re doing great.”

“Thanks, and I understand how hard this is, but I promise I’m going to tell you everything. It starts from when Marsha found Teri missing at lunch last Friday. Teri still lives in that house with her parents. Marsha’s suitcases were gone too, along with a lot of Teri’s things. They went to the police, who put out an APB, despite her age.”

“Which is?” I ask, suddenly concerned that Teri may have been a lot younger after all.

“She was truthful about a lot of things, and fortunately, her age was one of them. She really did just turn twenty-three.”

I sigh in relief.

“The police found no trace of her for a few days, but Monday afternoon they said they’d figured out that she’d flown to Cozumel the night before. Her folks told me they’d had no clue why she would pick Mexico of all places, so I told them about how she’d helped you win the radio contest and how she made you promise to take her with you.”

“Yet I’m still accused of kidnapping,” I grumble.

“They’re parents, Peter. They worry.”

“I suppose.”

“The police had surveillance video that showed Teri getting out of a cab at the airport. From that, they found the cabbie who drove her there. He said he had picked her up at a cheap motel near the airport. The motel owner was able to tell the cops when Teri checked in, which was less than two hours after you met her.

“As soon as Carl and Marsha heard where Teri had gone, they flew straight down here to look for her, but none of the resorts had her name. I told them the story of how Teri pretended to be your child during check-in to keep her name off the registries.”

“Okay, I get it. Her parents worried when she went missing and, uh, Teri was telling me tall tales the whole time. What I want to know is why? Why would she do that?”

Anna nods. “I’ll tell you what I know. Her folks say that Teri was a very normal girl, except for her size, right up until high school. Then she had some kind of very traumatic experience that left her deathly afraid of people, especially men. Carl and Marsha didn’t want to talk about what it was, and Esquebel didn’t press them.”

“Kira told me that she was abducted by the same unknown man, three different times. Each time, he held her for days. The last time, he repeatedly raped her.”

Anna’s eyes get big. “That fits if it’s true. Her parents said that after that, Teri wouldn’t leave the house, except for when she has one of these ‘episodes.'”

“Which are?” I’m trying to be patient and let Anna tell the story, but it’s hard.

“Her folks say that every six to eight months Teri goes into a manic phase. For a week or so she’s suddenly much more outgoing. During those times she makes up outlandish, yet consistently detailed stories about her life and why she’s otherwise been such a shut in. One time it was because she was some kind of sleeper agent, waiting for her coded signal to go out and complete her mission. Another time it was because she had some kind of dread immune system deficiency that meant she would die if she left the house. The only thing that recurs in every ‘episode’ is that there’s a man or men out there who are trying to kill her.”

“In this case, her ‘husband’ and some mafia goons,” I say. “She made all that up?”

“Exactly. There is no ‘Angelo Carlisi’ and Teri has never worked at a law firm or anywhere else. Peter, Teri hasn’t done anything since high school but write novels.

“Carl and Marsha watch her closely for the start of these manic phases. On every other occasion, they were there to talk her down. When she’s told about it, Teri eventually accepts what’s happening to her and dives into whatever novel her timid self has been working on. She usually writes day and night until she transitions back.

“This time, though, there was no one to talk her down, and her delusion just got stronger and more detailed as the days went by.”

This is a whole lot of information to process all at once. I’m going to have to go back over everything that Kira did or said since I met her and try and figure out what parts were true, and which were delusional. It’s wrenching at my heart.

“So the guy at the beach really was just a pervert with a camera,” I say.

Anna nods. “There was almost certainly no pedophile stuff on Kira’s laptop, and she definitely didn’t get an email from any ‘Jennifer’ about hit men.”

My mind is swirling. “So how long will it be before Teri remembers what’s happened for the last week? When can I at least talk to her?”

“Peter,” Anna says carefully, “when Teri is in her manic stage, she still remembers her life as Teri, however imperfectly. But it’s different when she transitions back. She doesn’t retain any memories from her manic state.” The compassion in Anna’s eyes is profound.

I sit in silence for a bit, trying to absorb her words. The implications sink in slowly, but the more they do, the more horrible they are. I look at Anna with stricken eyes. “But that means…” I can go no further.

“Yes, that’s what it means,” Anna says softly, and her own pain is heartbreakingly obvious. “Teri will never remember anything that happened to her this week. Not messing with you when you met, not changing her name, not coming to Mexico, not discovering sex with us, and not falling in love with you.”

My mind is in such a state of shock that her last words sound like they are coming from a million miles away.

“Peter, in any way that really matters, Kira is dead.”

For all the pride I take in my strength, it’s Anna who has to call a cab and get us back to Hidden Springs. I’m numb in a way that I didn’t know I could be. Logic has always been my steadfast companion and, in the past, any setback has been taken philosophically, but Kira had managed to wrap herself so tightly around my heart that her being torn away from me has nearly ripped that organ out.

I note in passing that the bungalow has been cleaned and that all traces of the confrontation are gone. The police must have gotten everything they needed in the hours we were away. The sun is nowhere near setting, but Anna has me put on my pajamas and get into bed, pulling the heavy drapes across all the windows.

Anna steps out onto the porch and I can hear her on the phone. I catch just enough to gather that she’s updating her South Carolina companions on what’s going on. When she’s done, she rejoins me, putting on a long flannel nightgown. She slips into bed and spoons to my back, wrapping an arm around me. Her presence is comforting.

My numbness, and perhaps the lingering aftereffects of the concussion, soon take their toll. I slip into unconsciousness.

* * * * *

I wake to a slight shaking of the bed. The gentle red glow of the alarm clock says it’s 1:15 am. I quickly realize that the shaking is due to Anna’s quiet sobbing. I think about it for a second and decide that it’s almost certainly because Anna is sad to lose Kira as well. In my pain and social ignorance, I hadn’t even thought about that. I turn to her and see that her back is to me, so I scoot a little closer to spoon up behind her. I gently stroke her face.

“I’m so sorry, Anna,” I say. “I was totally wrapped up in my own pain, but I know Kira meant a lot to you too.”

“Thank you, Peter. You have a good heart.”

I hold her gently until her sobbing stops. “Can you tell me more about Teri?” she asks. “I’m still trying to separate fact from fiction, and you got to spend more time with her.”

Perhaps talking about her will be cathartic, I think. “Well, one thing I know is true is that she is a successful novelist. I’ve read her books and watched her working on her new one.”

“I read more mysteries than science fiction, myself,” Anna says. “I’d never heard of her books before this week, but according to her folks, writing is Teri’s one real outlet. They say she’s insatiable in her appetite for information about places and that, through her writing, she can go anywhere. She can even write positively about men, because in her books they’re fictional.”

I catch Anna’s jab and tickle her for it. She squeals and wiggles, but I desist before things get out of hand. Eventually, she gets her breath back.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she says, “but it’s true. What I found particularly interesting is that Carl and Marsha attribute her literary success to her split personality. The writing she does as Teri is evidently beautiful, lyrical and consistent, but not very compelling. What she writes during her manic episodes is completely undisciplined, over-the-top, and often sexually graphic. She writes about ten thousand words a day then, but afterwards Teri cleans it up and incorporates it with her own work to give her completed novels that certain mix that her fans seem to love.”

I’m nodding. “Now that I know where it comes from, I think I could actually identify the parts of the books that Kira conceived. Those have always been my favorites.”

“Peter,” Anna reminds me, “Teri will probably have more episodes, but she’ll never be Kira again.”

I sigh. “Yeah, but I can’t help thinking of her that way. It’s easier to keep it straight if I think of her as two different people. The woman I loved was the one who decided to be Kira.”

“Fair enough,” Anna says.

We lie in silence for a while. It doesn’t look like we’re going to fall back to sleep anytime soon. “Wanna go for a walk?” Anna eventually asks. “The moon’s nearly full.”

“Sure.”

Anna slides out of bed and pulls her nightgown over her head. I get out on my side and strip down as well. Getting undressed to leave the house feels like Opposite World, but here, at this place and in this moment, it makes sense. There’s no sexual element to it, though, since without Kira, Anna isn’t attracted to me in that way. Knowing this, I adopt the same attitude toward her that I’d assumed the day we met. Now she’s just a friend, though a much closer one.

I lead the way out the front door and take her hand as we pad down the steps and out into the sand. Our comfortably intertwined fingers lend me a much-needed feeling of tranquility.

The temperature is just about right and there’s a light breeze blowing, just enough to ruffle the leaves of the palm trees above us. The moon is nearly full, and lights up the sand and water well enough to tell us that we’ve got the whole beach to ourselves.

It’s a perfectly romantic backdrop, but even though we’ve had sex, we aren’t a romantic couple. I’m not sure exactly what Anna and I are to each other, but I’m glad she’s with me for now. I keep thinking I need to say something by way of conversation, but we’ve pretty much talked out the events of the day. A couple of times I sense that she’s about to speak, but she decides not to as well.

We walk clear to the far end of the beach, which is closed off by a fence and private property signs. We begin to walk back, still holding hands, but neither of us is ready to go back to bed yet. There’s a tall, smooth boulder sticking up out of the sand above the surf line. I lead us there.

“Wanna sit for a while?” I ask.

“Sure.”

I settle down into the sand with my back against the rock. Anna sits down between my legs and leans back against my chest, resting her head against my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, supporting her large breasts on my forearms in a non-sexual sort of way. This whole thing feels very different from any way in which I’ve ever interacted with a woman (or anyone for that matter) but at the same time it’s totally comfortable.

“Tell me about your accent,” she says at last.

Anna is fascinated by the tale of my journey from fatherless child in the shadow of Chernobyl, to millionaire inventor in Minnesota, and it gives me courage to talk to her honestly about my steady march from cypher to playboy. “But those days are behind me now,” I say at last. “Thanks to Kira, I’ve realized that my life doesn’t need to be shaped by trying to become like everyone around me.”

She nods. “I think that’s a lesson we can all learn. In my own way, I’ve been just as bad, not being willing to disappoint my folks.”

“What, you haven’t told them you’re a lesbian?”

She shakes her head. “It would kill them.”

“But they must have figured it out, right?”

“No, I’ve gone to great lengths to hide it. I dated in high school and went to dances, even though the boys called me “Ice Queen” because I didn’t put out. In college, I paid a guy to pretend to be my boyfriend for a couple of years.”

“How exactly did that work?”

“Oh, it wasn’t terribly difficult. All he had to do was take the occasional picture with me and let me keep him up to date about what I told my folks about him in case they ever met. They never did. Since then, I tell them I’m dating, but I complain a lot about how all the good ones are taken.”

“They’ve got to be suspicious by now.”

“Probably, and I’m going to have to break down and tell them sooner or later. You’re lucky you won’t have to be there for that, ’cause it’s gonna be real ugly.”

“I’d bet they’ll be more understanding than you think.”

“You haven’t met my folks. I love them, but they’re like the old couple with the pitchfork in the American Gothic painting. My mom especially is so desperate for me to settle down, get married and have children. I really feel awful that I’m going to disappoint her.” Anna sighs. She cranes her neck to look up at me. “I guess we’ve both been living as someone we’re not.”

“Yeah, but at least you’re doing it to avoid hurting others, Anna. You mean well.”

She shrugs. “‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions.'”

“You could still get married and have kids, you know. You may have heard that gay marriage is legal now, and sperm banks are convenient enough.”

“Yeah, but I’d never do that. Call it a character fault, but I can’t wrap my mind around the idea of same sex marriage, at least for me. I’ve lived with a couple of girlfriends, but never had even the slightest inclination to tie the knot.”

“Would you have married someone like Kira?”

This appears to give her pause. “Peter, this morning, before I realized Kira was only amorous with me when you were with us, I was thinking that if things didn’t work out between you two, I wanted my own shot at her. If that had happened, and if we had been together for long enough, well, I don’t know. She might have been the exception to my rule. Still, when I think of marriage, I still think man and woman.”

I chuckle. “You may be the most socially regressive lesbian I’ve ever met.” I don’t mean it as a pejorative, and I can tell that Anna knows that.

I feel her shrug slightly. “I just keep my politics separate from my sexuality.”

We talk for hours, one subject leading to another until the glow of the rising sun begins to light up the sky. I realize that I’ve never spent this much effort getting to know anyone before. The odd thing about it is that the longer we talk, the easier and more natural it becomes for me. After a while, I realize that I’m conversing with her even more easily than I did with Kira.

I belatedly realize that this is what friends must do. It strikes me that I haven’t had anyone in my life like that before. I’ve only talked to people when I had ulterior motives, whether it was for sex, education, career or other things that I wanted. I’ve never had a real friend before, but I hope that’s what Anna and I can be for each other.