TygerEyes 1.0: I'm glad you're enjoying it. Let's only hope Rick doesn't hurt himself again!
Kelley28: I believe there's no such thing as rambling if it helps me realise something. Description is the one thing I've been worrying about: am I putting too much in, am I putting too little in? I think you're right that a short amount of description is best. Thank you!
Nirak: Ah, thank you very much!
StarrNight: Creepingly enchanting? Love that phrase. RickxElli, you say? Gosh, I hate Elli. Like Rick says, "Too nice, too weak and too boring." Or words to that effect. Thank you once again and I promise I'll review your Season of Love (which is very, very good!).
What I'm surprised about is that no-one noticed the M.A.S.H reference (or at least mentioned it)!
Onwards!
Chapter 7: Summer 2003: Part 1
One of the few items I was allowed to keep on entering the prison was my diary. I have not written in it for several years, but it is of sentimental value. When times are particularly bad, I read and reflect on what once was and never shall be again. I shall direct your attention, distant and mysterious reader, to its very first pages from the 23rd May through the next two weeks.
Friday 23rd May 2003
Mother got me a diary to record the events of my recovery. What could I possibly want to remember about my injury? Instead, I shall use it as a blueprint for my ultimate goal, pink-sweet Popuri.
Nothing much of interest in regards to the girl today; delivery men were here setting up a television in my room. Should be of some interest. Jeff's party today. I wonder how Karen is doing. The party means that Popuri is in the chicken coops all day. I am watching a comedy show. It is very bad.
Saturday 24th May 2003
Popuri brought me my breakfast in the morning and then got into bed with me (glory!). We watched television together for a while. As we did so, my arm went around her shoulders in a miserable attempt to draw her closer to me. All I got was her lustrous hair spilling onto me like a waterfall of eternal youth. While that is not bad, I could not survive without the feel of her beautiful head on my caring shoulder.
"Oh look," she said with interest, pointing at the screen, "It's about that serial killer!"
"The Miami Ripper has struck again!" droned the news reporter, "This is the sixth victim in two months and women everywhere are terrified."
I had vaguely heard of a serial killer in Miami, but had not paid it much attention. That is mainland business and has nothing to do with us.
"Oh, Rick," gasped Popuri in that adorable way that seems melodramatic, yet is utterly real, "What if the Ripper comes here?"
"Popuri!" I laughed, taking her hand, "If a serial killer ever came here, we'd know. You can tell a serial killer from a mile away! So don't worry."
That seemed to placate her. Later on, I watched another comedy show. This one was far better.
Monday 26th May 2003
Karen came to see me today. Apparently the party was a success. At least the part she could remember. She wheeled me out of the house and took me over to see Uncle Freddy.
"Hey hey!" exclaimed the grand old man when he saw me, "It's Rick! How are you son?"
"Alright thanks," I replied smiling. Freddy directed us to where the pool was. It rose out of the ground like a square, aqua shell. The stairs were painted a sandy yellow and to the side of them I could see Gotz hammering in a rogue nail.
"There we are Mister West," said the bearded woodcutter, standing back to admire his work. He turned and saw me and Karen. "Ah!" he smiled, shaking my hand, "Hello Mister Kinsey; how is your leg today? Better? Ah, that's good. And of course, Miss Chaeter; how is the Supermarket?"
"Very well thank you Mister Gotz," replied Karen cheerfully.
"Good," replied the warm man, "Well, must be going. See you later kids, and Mister West of course!" He strode away, whistling a happy tune.
I asked Karen whether her last name was French. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "Who knows? All I was told is that your last name reflects your personality in some way."
I smiled and lay back in my chair. At that time, a familiar voice, with the sweetness of chocolate and the desirability of a goddess shouted from behind the pool, "Uncle Freddy, I've done! Come and take a look!"
The three of us went round the back of the pool and there stood my positively perfect Picasso, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, holding a paintbrush and surrounded by many pots of paint. "Oh hey Rick and Karen," she said with surprise, "Check out what I've been doing!"
"Hey," I asked, my old Popuri-criticizing self coming out of a long retirement briefly, "Shouldn't you be attending to the chickens?"
"Did all that," she replied with a hint of smugness, "So I came down here and painted this for the pool. Doesn't it look cool?"
I had to admit, it was very good. She had painted a tropical scene with sandy beaches, curvy waves, tall trees with big, rounded, ripe fruits, ready for plucking for the hungry traveller. I smiled and said, "Excellent!" The others agreed with me. Popuri was very happy.
I look forward to the opening of the pool and the Doctor agrees with me. He thinks that if I start swimming after my bandages are taken off, it might help me regain the strength in my leg faster. Not to mention that Popuri will be there as well. Oh, expectations!
Thursday 29th May 2003
Even as I write this, I am still thinking about what happened. Damn it! I cannot believe that happened! Curses! How can life be so cruel?
It was a regular day. Mother had gone to see the Doctor to pick up her medicine and mine and then go see Sasha, Karen's mom. I had slept in until one-thirty in the afternoon, when Popuri woke me up by coming in and saying loudly, "Rise and shine Rick!" I opened my eyes and saw pristine Popuri, my florid Florence Nightingale, shaking my shoulders with her fair hands. She was wearing another white t-shirt and slacks.
"Hello," I said weakly.
"Hi," she replied, a lock of her glimmering hair briefly covering her face before she pushed it away. Smiling, she said, "Is there anything you (and I must admit, I myself have accentuated the following word) want me for?"
"Yes," I burbled.
"What is that?" she whispered.
"You," I replied without thinking.
"What?"
"A view," I quickly corrected, "It is took dark in here." Ha, they did not call me Quick Rick for nothing, my admiring peers!
"Okay!" she exclaimed cheerfully. She ran to the window and flung the curtains open. A flash of light scorched my eyes briefly and then the radiance of the sun was replaced by the radiance of my golden angel.
"There!" she smiled, "That's better, isn't it?"
"Much better," I replied. It was this point that she sat down beside me on the bed and asked, "Anything else I can do for you?"
"Give me a minute to think," I replied.
A moment passed and then she closed her eyes. She began singing a song that was popular at the time in a clear, musical voice, "Ohh, I am so crazy/And I've been waiting for you/Forever now and I want/You to know that I love you…"
Then, to my surprise, she slipped her hand into mine and squeezed it tight. I stared in shock at it, yet I was definitely not going to protest it. Her hand was soft and clean and her nails glittered in the sunlight. She was singing loud and heartily, yet delicately and pleasantly as well. Her gleaming hair was like a ruby waterfall, her face well-structured; the classical image of beauty. Her bosom was ample and well-shaped and she was slender; not horribly thin, yet definitely not showing a rebellious, unseemly gut. Her arms were thin and beginning to show the effects of the young summer. All-in-all, perfection. Venus herself could not compare with pleasing, poignant, precious Popuri; the girl who would giggle at the crude joke and yet sit sombrely at the glowing river near the hot springs during the crystalline night, pondering the universe and all that there was.
This was the time, I realised. It was now or never! But, like a careful bather, I had to test the waters first. I stroked her hand with my thumb. Hark! She noticed not! I felt bolder and, disengaging my hand from hers, began moving it up her arm. Still she did not stir. Now my hand made a leap for her shoulder and took it sensually. What was going on? She did not reply, she was not repulsed; how could this be? Never mind!
Drunk with the courage of the gods, I prepared myself for the final onslaught. And suddenly I entered that golden realm; that state of happiness where nothing matters. I was above the retribution of the world, of the religious who howled and cursed behind their commandments, beyond the volleys of the conformists, who were afraid of the unorthodox. Now I was a radiant, robust god who was now reaping the rewards of his sensual suffering and ready to rip his prize out of the grasping claws of the fearful society. One kiss from my Helen, and this Paris would ascend the plains of ecstasies forever.
By this time I had my left arm around her shoulder, my right arm around her stomach and my rejoicing eyes were surveying their objective. Her rouge lips were still forming the words of that great song and her tongue was still cranking out the musical words.
"How long I have waited for you, my… (And I can only speculate what the last word she said was. Perhaps it was Cly (we loved that show, she secretly had a crush on old Cly; or perhaps it was fly? God knows with women. What was almost certain was that she probably thought I was the overpaid crooner who sang the song. Precocious Popuri always delved deep into her imagination and found it very hard on occasion to disentangle it from reality. Excellent for me!)
I could wait no longer. My emotional rocket was thundering into the skies of passion. One kiss would be enough to propel it into the stratosphere of happiness and then fall to earth; to hell with the consequences. My lips formed the required shape and I swooped –
The doorbell went and I returned to my previous position in a split second. Popuri rushed downstairs and got the door. From the annoying voice below, I discerned it was Ann. God damn and blast her! May she be obliterated from the earth with the pain of a hundred thousand firestorms! Curse and damn her for ruining my perfect moment!
Then my rage turned to fear. What if Popuri had realised it was me and was already running to the Mayor to demand I be arrested. To die and never achieve my goal, that would be the worst thing of all!
But I heard her bounding up the steps and run into my room. She said, "Hey, Rick, I gotta go now. Ann and I are going to the hot springs. See you later!"
She ran back downstairs and slammed the door. I was left alone in the house to ponder what had happened.
Ann, that red-haired psychopath, had stolen from me my lotus fruit. This would not be tolerated! But the chance was lost for now and nothing could be done about that. The good thing was that Popuri had not noticed and further opportunities in the future would be available.
I sighed. At least summer was coming. Kai would return and that meant that the three of us would lock ourselves up in his shack and toast the past and future, leave the outside world behind us and watch time go by. We could be left alone to our hopes, dreams and plans. And I would have plenty of each.
