Trapper's Lament
"You free for a while?" Trapper had opened the office door and looked in. He was a man in his early fifties with a look of dignity that matched his powerful build and his height. His hair had receded a great deal but to counterbalance the lack of hair on his head, he had grown a beard that showed the same gray that peppered his temples. During marriage counseling, his wife had mentioned how much she hated beards, his in particular, and when he asked why she had never told him, all she would say is that she didn't believe her opinion would count since it never had before. He had just sat back, shaking his head and smiling at the absurdity of it all and admiring how deftly his wife could find another way to injure him.
"Yeah, come on in and have a seat."
Trapper stepped into the psychologist's office and closed the door behind him. He smiled but this made him very uncomfortable; he was never one to discuss his feelings which had caused many an argument with Melanie during their marriage. She always accused him of not opening up about how he felt but Trapper had said that as long as he loved her, what else could matter?
"Is this a social visit or professional?" Dr. Connor had known John Francis Xavier McIntyre for years, ever since their time together in the service and he knew that it was Trapper who had secured this hospital position for him; in the whole hospital, there were only two psychologists. He was one and the other was Trapper's ex-wife's fiancé, Dr. David Sandler. And now Trapper was in his "civvies" so this must be his day off and his "issue" must be important for Trapper John to have given up such a beautiful day when he could be out on his boat, the tennis courts or the golf course.
"This is a professional visit and I would appreciate it if you'd forgo professional courtesy and charge me. Otherwise I may go on for hours."
Dr. Connor laughed. "Sit down, John. No charge. And you can go on as long as you want. Well, at least for the next two and half hours. Someone else is coming in then." Dr. Connor smiled and Trapper barely responded, a smile just touching the corners of his lips.
Trapper sat down. "I don't know how long I can stay sitting-she keeps me on my toes just talking about her."
"Melanie?"
"No, not Melanie. It's a woman I've been seeing for quite a while now and I'd like to go on seeing her but…things may be getting out of hand and I don't know what to do because I find that...I really can't understand how I feel about her."
"What's getting out of hand?"
"Everything. My feelings for her are…overwhelming." Trapper rose and started pacing around the room. He could feel the back of his shirt stick to him; he had begun to sweat thinking about all he would have to confess and what it would reveal about him but he felt he had to do something, tell someone about her as she brought out all the darkness that he had managed for so long to successfully keep hidden. If he didn't suppress his urges, he didn't know what would happen.
~ O ~
It was a fundraising event for the hospital and Trapper arrived alone; most of the surgeons and doctors had. It was just another boring event and Trapper wanted to be able to leave as soon as possible. He figured that after he gave his thank you speech to San Francisco Memorial's "generous supporters," he would leave; he was looking forward to turning in early as he had performed two surgeries and handled a possible resignation from a heart specialist that day and he was weary. But now it was the cocktail hour and Trapper had to go around and "glad hand" all the rich businessmen; he hated this part of his job as he felt that he had sold out, but it was necessary. The hospital needed another open MRI machine and there was really no other way to purchase it since they were non-profit and money was tight.
As Trapper stood nursing his drink, Frank Lopez, another surgeon, walked over to Trapper and said, "Do you hate this as much as I do?"
"More," Trapper answered, swirling the ice in his glass. "Did you drag your wife here tonight?"
"We couldn't get a sitter but I don't think she tried very hard. And why are you solo? Given up on women?" Frank knew that Trapper usually had a lovely woman on his arm; in a pinch, Melanie had often accompanied him and played the part of the gracious "wife" of the head of surgery, charming the hospital supporters. Although Melanie and Trapper had been divorced for five years, Melanie still clung to her former role as the wife of a powerful man—she heartily enjoyed it.
"There's no one I dislike enough to submit her to this type of boredom," Trapper answered.
"Melanie loves this stuff. Why not bring her? Oh, I forgot—she's engaged to David. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry; I think it's wonderful. Let her depend on David now to unclog her toilet, put oil in her car or arrange a handyman to work on whatever goes wrong in her condo and not me. Actually, Melanie probably would have come along if I'd asked her."
Dr. Frank Lopez noticed Trapper was distracted and followed his gaze. Trapper was carefully watching another doctor at the reception, Dr. Alan Stratton, and the woman with him. "She's something else, isn't she?" Frank asked.
"She sure is." The woman was probably in her early forties, elegantly dressed and with her dark hair neatly pulled back from her face. She was categorically beautiful in Trapper's book—not flashy but lovely with shapely legs and a fine figure. "So what the hell is she doing with him?" Stratton was a good surgeon, but not the type of man who had much luck with women, especially not a woman like this. "She his sister or something? Cousin, maybe?"
"I can tell you what I heard—if you want to hear it." Frank was careful; Trapper didn't indulge in gossip and felt that professional surgeons shouldn't be participating in talk about what another surgeon might be doing in his private life although many were glad to announce their latest sexual conquest or their new yacht, car or house. But this interested him as Stratton was a quiet, reserved man, slight of build and had never been married despite being in his fifties.
"What? What did you hear?" Trapper looked at Frank who grinned mischievously.
"She's a dominatrix."
Trapper looked incredulous and then laughed. "You're shitting me."
"Nope. That's what I heard from a reliable source—a dominatrix and a damn good one. How much you want to bet that Stratton's got a plug up his ass?"
"Well," Trapper answered, "that would explain that look on his face but then he's always got something or another up his ass."
"Wouldn't you love to see her in spiked leather boots?" Frank asked. "Oof, oof, oof." Frank made slight pelvic thrusts. "I'd make her wear them while I fucked her." Frank sighed heavily.
"He's a lucky bastard," Trapper said and found himself aroused, imagining the woman standing over a bound man with a riding crop in her hand wearing tall, leather boots and demanding that he lick them. "Let's go introduce ourselves." And Trapper walked over to the couple and Frank Lopez, taken by surprise, lagged by a few seconds and then followed Trapper.
"Alan," Trapper said, walking over to the man and woman who were obviously together but who didn't speak to one another. "Good to see you here. Usually you don't show." And although he was talking to Dr. Stratton, he was looking at the woman who just glanced his way and then looked off at the milling group of doctors and businessmen.
"Yes, well, I was able to find the time. Waiting to hear your 'thank you' speech, Trapper. Hope it works to bring us the money we need." The man kept glancing at the woman as well and Frank Lopez stood beside Trapper, looking back and forth from face to face. Trapper watched the woman closely and noticed how she slightly turned away from them; it was obvious to the three men that she didn't care to be introduced but Trapper wasn't going to let it pass.
"And who did you talk into coming with you?" Trapper said but the woman still didn't look at them.
"Yeah," Frank said. "Introduce us, Alan."
The woman turned to face them, her face still and her demeanor calm. Trapper saw that her skin was like porcelain, smooth and unlined.
"Oh, um…" Alan Stratton hemmed a bit, "this is Ariadne." She nodded at Trapper and Frank Lopez. "This is Trapper—I mean Dr. John McIntyre and Dr. Frank Lopez. John is our head of surgery, our chief surgeon."
"Very nice to meet both of you," she said quietly, her demeanor belying her statement. She didn't appear to think it was "nice" at all.
"Ariadne," Trapper said, musing. "In mythology, she was abandoned by Theseus after she helped him with the Minotaur. He married her sister, what was her name?" Trapper looked at the woman, he didn't believe it was her real name. He assumed it was her "professional" name.
"Phaedra. Her name was Phaedra. Ariadne helped Theseus when he needed it—she was a fool to fall in love with him."
Trapper smiled at Ariadne but she didn't respond. "Yes, well, women often say that they get the worst out of a relationship, don't they? Now my ex-wife, she's certainly gotten the best." But she didn't respond and an awkward silence fell over the small group. Then the men chuckled at Trapper's remark to ease the silence.
"Excuse me, won't you," Ariadne said and handing her drink to Dr. Stratton, she started to walk away.
"You're coming back, aren't you?" Stratton desperately asked.
Trapper and Frank looked at Stratton. He sounded terrified that Ariadne wouldn't return to him, that she was going to run off and abandon him. Ariadne simply said, yes, she would be back but Alan looked fearful. Trapper noticed the signs of stress, the heightened breathing, the sweat breaking out on Alan's forehead.
"Boy, you've got it bad," Trapper said to Alan. And he shook his head and walked away, Frank following him.
"What do you think, Trapper?" Frank asked.
"I think she's got his balls in her hand and she just squeezed them. In a few hours, he's going to be on his knees in front of her, but I don't know that I wouldn't change places with him. A woman like that-damn, I swear she puts out a scent like a bitch in heat."
Frank looked back at Alan who stood, looking for Ariadne "I could do with a night with her. She makes me hard just thinking about what she might be like."
Trapper downed his drink, the ice clinking. "First, she is—if what you said is true, a dominatrix and they're not whores. But she's a cold one. You have a wife waiting for you at home and doesn't a loving wife sound more welcoming than a steely-eyed bitch like her?"
"I don't know, Trap. I really don't know. Maybe I need a little adventure in my life instead of just white bread sex."
"White bread sex has a lot going for it. Trust me. I haven't found anyone yet that I want to spend every night with but I sure as hell wouldn't want someone like her as a steady diet." Trapper looked at his empty glass. "I don't know about you, but I need another one?" Frank agreed and the two doctors walked over to the bar. But for the rest of the evening, Trapper couldn't keep his eyes off Ariadne; she intrigued him.