Pain

Richard could not help but notice that he hadn't noticed Lupe since he came home. Her presence was clear as the living room had been tidied up and someone had clearly bothered to put his shoes in the hall closet, but he hadn't seen so much as her shadow since he crossed the threshold of his house. He read the paper for an hour or so in the living room. Dorothy was longing on the sofa, slowly sipping from a cup of tea and listening to a serial broadcast.

"Did the new girl come over today?" he asked his wife after the show ended.

"Yes," she answered in a crisp monotone.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Dorothy snapped. "What do you want to hear, huh? That she's gorgeous and charming and I will be giving you two your privacy so you enjoy your deviant pleasures with each other? Is that what you want?"

Richard sighed deeply. He had spent the entire day at work trying to reconcile a buggy shipment of transistors with the latest production run. His latest injection of morphine had not been enough to soothe the agony in his bad leg and he had spent the last several hours in near numbing pain. "Yes, Dorothy, that's exactly what I want. Call her in here, right now, and delineate to her all the nasty things I've asked you to do, because I would bet dollars to donuts she's not nearly as much as a cold-hearted harpy as yourself and will at least put her mouth upon me," he shot at her, funneling the anger he felt at his own choices at his wife. "Perhaps I can get a better deal for my dollar with her than you, eh?"

"You'd do best to keep your filthy mouth shut," Dorothy replied immediately. "It's bad enough that you have such thoughts, but to share them aloud? You're a beast. That wound and the drugs you pump into yourself has corrupted your mind."

"If you knew half the things I would do to that girl you'd go mad, your puritan mind driven to the point of collapse by delights you'd never entertain. I'd have to send you off to a boobyhatch. And I would consider myself well rid of you." Richard said slowly as he opened up his cigarette case and calmly withdrew a cigarette.

Dorothy arose and smiled at him, her beautiful face tight with stress and hatred. "I wish you had died in the war. Then I would be an honorable widow as opposed to the wife of a perverted cripple."

Instead of being offended Richard merely laughed at her. He had gone past the point of being offended by a person he felt such antagonism with. "I bet you do," he replied. "I bet you do."

Dorothy picked up his cane. She suddenly and violently poked him in his wound. "Let that satisfy your needs!" she spat at him.

Richard yelled in pain and ripped the cane from her hand. "You mad bitch!" he hollered at his wife. "Damn you!"

She laughed. "Soothe that with your morphine and your perversions!"

Neither of them noticed Lupe peek into the living room, as she had been roused by Richard's yells from her tasks in the kitchen.

Richard sat up straight, gritting his teeth through the cascading pain. "Don't you ever…" he gasped and shut his eyes while trying to maintain control over his own body. "I've got half a mind to throw you out, right now, this very second, or-"

"Throw me out! You can barely get dressed by yourself, how do you intend to throw me out?"

"I swear to God, Dorothy," Richard said while fumbling for his case of prepared needles. "I swear to God, you'll fucking pay for that." He wildly thrust the needle into the arm, direly needing the relief that the injection offered.

"What? We are trapped with each other," Dorothy said and haughtily picked up her cup of tea. "You've brought me down here to this watery grave and you've made me just as miserable as I could ever make you."

Richard said nothing. Instead he leaned back into the armchair. He could feel the morphine carry his troubles away, away to a place beyond the inky depths of the sea, beyond his lonely bed, beyond himself.

Dorothy shook her head and turned to walk towards the kitchen. Lupe ducked just in time to avoid being seen. Lupe felt a bit guilty for having witnessed such a scandalous and intimate exchange. She busied her hands with the silverware she was supposed to be polishing.

"Are those clean yet?" Dorothy snapped at her.

Lupe shook her head. "No ma'am," she answered shyly.

"What about the dishes? Are those done?"

Lupe nodded. "Yes, ma'am, washed and dried."

Dorothy picked a dish and closely inspected it. She then picked up a saucer and did the same. She then picked up a juice glass. By this point Lupe had turned her attention from the hostile Dorothy and was concentrating on rubbing the small coffee spoons with a smooth cloth the best she could, as there was a shortage of silver polish at the moment.

Lupe suddenly heard a glass smash behind her and she turned in surprise. "Oh, I'll-" she was about to say "get a broom" but Dorothy interrupted her.

"Is it that hard to clean a glass of water spots? Or can you not do that, you worthless slut!" Dorothy screeched at her.

Lupe was speechless. No one had ever spoken to her in such a rude manner, and while she was not expecting to be treated as an equal as a maid, she was not expecting to be so openly harassed either. Such a lovely little room, Lupe reminded herself and bit her tongue. All the hot water I want. A quiet place to sleep. "I am sorry, ma'am," she forced herself to say. "I shall do better next time."

"See that you do, or you'll be out of here before you know it," Dorothy pulled open a cupboard violently and retrieved a green unlabeled bottle, then strode out of the kitchen towards the bedrooms.

Lupe was stunned for a moment and idly rubbed the spoons. What a mean person, telling her husband she wished he was dead in the war. Lupe's thoughts turned to Richard. Lupe had heard stories of dope fiends dying of too much morphine and her indignation turned to concern. If he dies, I won't have a friend down here except for Helena. And Helena isn't… her heart began to beat fast at the thought of Richard. She believed it to be unlikely that with all his problems that Richard would be concerned with her beyond the kindness that he had already shown her.

Lupe heard the door to Dorothy's bedroom slam shut. She tentatively entered the living room and gingerly stepped towards Richard. She had lived a somewhat sheltered life, even considering her adventures in New York, and she wasn't exactly sure what to expect. He could become like a wild rutting beast, she thought with a thrill of giddy excitement.

Lupe could see the rise and fall of his chest, so her first worry was alleviated. She bent over him. "Mr. Stone?" she whispered into his ear.

His eyes fluttered open lazily. "Mmm?" he moaned vaguely.

"Uh, are you okay?"

He nodded slowly.

"Do you need anything?" she asked softly.

He shook his head. "No. Yes, I mean, I need…" he trailed off and shut his eyes again. "I will be fine, Lupe, don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Oh," she answered weakly. "I will let you be."

Richard sighed deeply. "Years," he mumbled. "So long."

Lupe didn't know exactly how to interrupt this. She let him be, as he wished, then retreated to the kitchen. She had not been given orders to prepare anything for supper, but, then again, perhaps she was expected to prepare something on her own. As she had told Dorothy earlier she was not good at cooking, and Lupe nervously darted about the kitchen a while. She had bought, amongst other things, pumpkin and milk while out shopping earlier, and decided to make a pot of pumpkin soup and serve it with bread and smoked herring. If Dorothy did not demand supper, well, she could very well serve the same thing tomorrow. Lupe congratulated herself on her plan and set about preparing the soup.

Several hours later, however, neither Dorothy nor Richard had stirred from their respective nests and Lupe set the tureen of soup into the icebox. She felt a bit sore from a long day of work, albeit no more sore than usual, and was very much looking forward to a hot shower and a good night's sleep when Dorothy suddenly appeared in the kitchen.

Dorothy smiled widely at Lupe. "I've spilled something in the hall," she mumbled and Lupe caught a whiff of cheap gin. "Would you be a dear and clean it up?"

Spilled? More like threw up, Lupe thought, but nodded demurely and followed Dorothy out into the hall.

Dorothy gestured to an empty spot on the rug. "Get this cleaned up before you go to bed," she slurred. "I don't want to see a trace of it in the morning."

Lupe scrutinized the carpet for a few moments. "I'm sorry, I don't see it. Maybe it's too dim in the hall?"

"Oh, silly me," Dorothy laughed and then reached on to a shelf and picked up a bottle of India ink. "Well I hate to drag you out here for no reason," she said while dumping the entire bottle on the floor. The ink dribbled onto the rug and the wood floor and a few stray drops leapt onto the cream colored wall.

Lupe's jaw dropped. What a mean, vicious woman, I have not done anything wrong, she raged internally. I should just turn and go! The repercussions of her actions, however, immediately halted her from doing so. If she left there would be nowhere to go except for the streets.

Dorothy tossed the bottle onto the carpet. "Clean it up before you go to bed!" she shouted, and then shoved Lupe against the wall before storming off to her own bedroom.

Lupe had no choice. She sighed and hurried to the linen room, where she collected an assortment of cleaners to try and clean the ink. She cursed under her breath the whole time. At around one in the morning she was nearly done. Lupe could barely keep her eyes open and she knew she would have to be awake and making coffee in less than five hours.

Lupe didn't dare hope that the situation would improve; instead she hoped that she would get used to it. As she was wringing the sponge out into a pail of gray water she heard the rhythmic tapping of Richard's cane coming towards her. She had been so preoccupied with her own misery that she forgot about Richard.

"You're up awfully late," he commented as he came into the hall.

She turned to him. "Just…cleaning," she murmured weakly. She did want to risk temping Dorothy's wrath further by tattling on her actions.

Richard frowned. "Whatever it is, it can keep until morning. Do you like your room?"

Lupe nodded. "Thank you very much, it's like a little piece of heaven."

He sighed. "Well, I am happy you like it. Good night."

Would you kindly imagine a page break here?

Richard laid in bed for a few moments after he woke up, trying to summon the energy to move. The extra shot of morphine last night had its effects, and he felt queasy and muddled. At the thought of all the effort required to do such seemingly monumental tasks as shave and put on shoes he groaned and shut his eyes again, then opened them and used what little energy he had left to crawl over to the phone on the nightstand. Each tug on the rotary phone felt like a marathon and he kept the conversation brief, only a sentence to tell his secretary that he would not be in that day as he was ill.

He lay on his back in bed for some time. His leg and hip were throbbing with pain, but he denied himself the morphine. Richard loathed himself for becoming dependent on the drug. If he had eaten anything he would have surely been sick from the withdrawal. He lay in bed, listening to his wife get shower and get dressed in the room next door. Anger welled up in his recollections of his wife's behavior last night. If I was not a gentleman, he thought sourly, I'd beat her with my cane before I divorce her. First thing tomorrow I am sending my secretary to the registrar's office to inquire about the formal procedure.

He heard the front door slam shut and he was able to relax a bit more knowing that Dorothy was physically far away from him. Richard did not have to wonder where it all went wrong, it all went wrong with a Nazi machine gunner and a heartless gold digger, combined with a city as cold and isolated as Richard was.

"Oh, goodness, forgive me," Lupe sputtered as she opened the door. "I thought you had gone to work already!"

Richard was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the door open and only noticed her when she spoke. "I am more incapacitated today than usual," he answered dryly and gazed at her. Lupe had an armful of fresh linens and she wore one of the dead maid's shapeless dresses, but that served only to highlight the mystery and taunting pleasure of her fine young body. She is my servant, he thought darkly, I could make her do whatever I wanted, and no one would stop me. He was horrified at his own cruel thoughts, however, and quickly purged them from his mind.

Lupe averted her gaze and Richard realized that she was probably uncomfortable with the fact that he slept naked. "I, I will come back later."

Richard sighed. "Can you bring me some coffee please? And the newspaper. I shall probably be in bed all day."

Lupe nodded. "Your leg?"

He hesitated before answering, ashamed of his own limitations. "Yes. Some days it hurts more than others."

Lupe seemed to hesitate as well. "My cousin had polio when he was just a little boy," she rushed to say. "Doctors did not want to give him morphine at such a young age, so they taught my aunt and uncle a way to help with the muscle pain using hot and cold bags full of uncooked rice. Would you like to try that on you?"

"I would, yes." Richard tucked a pillow behind his back and sat up. "First bring my coffee though please."

Lupe scuttled off and Richard immediately set his hands under the sheets. Should she apply the heat therapy directly to his wound there was no way she would miss his erection. He needed to take care of it before she came back. She was so shy, he thought while stroking his shaft. Just seeing me naked made her blush. She is probably a virgin. I hope he spills the coffee on the sheets, then I can give her a good spanking for being clumsy.

He envisioned Lupe obediently bending over the bed, quivering in anticipation of her punishment. He would pull the shapeless black shift up to her waist, revealing a hidden treasure of supple caramel colored thigh, a sensuously round and plump bottom, protected only by a white cotton underwear. Lupe would yelp slightly as he smacked his hand lightly across her bottom. But her body would show her true delight, and a steadily growing moistness would be evident on her pure white underwear. He would rip the underwear from her and she would gasp.

"Oh," she would moan in delight as he teased her outer lips with his fingers. "We shouldn't," she would breathe. "I'm sorry I spilled the coffee."

But Richard wouldn't listen to her pleas. He would slip his finger into her tight and wet hole. She would squirm as he pushed into her with his finger, one inch at a time. "Have you ever had a man inside you before?" he would ask, but the answer was obvious to him as she was so tight.

"No," she would answer, and with that statement he would plunge his finger into her and she would cry out in pleasure. "Oh, yes, oh, don't stop!"

He would pull her from her position on her stomach via her long, brown hair, so that her head was level with his crotch. He would jam his throbbing cock into her pretty mouth. He would push it down into her throat.

"Don't you look pretty," he would comment-

Richard gasped as he came into a tissue. He balled it up as quickly as possible and wiped off the excess with another tissue. He then tossed them into a waste bin and hoped that Lupe wouldn't notice his flushed cheeks (which were fairly apparent on his pale skin). He settled onto a pile of pillows and made himself comfortable.

Lupe opened the door a few moments later, bearing a tray with the porcelain coffee service and the newspaper and a stack of toast. "Here you are," she said cheerily.

Richard sheepishly avoided her gaze. "Thank you," he said as she set the tray at the nightstand.

"I will need some time to heat and cool down the bags of rice, so, just hold tight," Lupe said and went back to the kitchen.

Richard tried to read the newspaper but he was far too distracted to concentrate on anything. He knew that he should be ashamed of himself for firing off a quick one to the image of a desperate girl he had hired out of a pity, but he was too consumed with physical need to worry about it. He just hoped that his ejaculation had been sufficient enough to quell his body's impulses for a while.

Lupe returned with cloth flour bags, one full of uncooked rice that had sat in the freezer, the other full of uncooked rice that had been warmed in a low temperature oven. "I've got a few more bags in reserve, I will need to switch them out every ten minutes or so," she said. "Now, how are we going to do this?"

Richard shrugged. "I haven't got any clothes on," he said. "If you feel uncomfortable with this I can do it."

Lupe shrugged off his suggestion. "Don't worry about it. Unless you are uncomfortable?"

He grinned. "I'll pretend you're a nurse." He noticed with pleasure that she smiled slightly. "An old, fat nurse. A nun."

Lupe laughed. "Pull the sheet aside and cover up your-your manliness," she said.

Richard pulled the sheets aside. No one other than the nurses in Germany and Dorothy had seen his wounds, but Richard's eagerness for genuine relief from his pain was more powerful than his embarrassment.

"They certainly got a piece of you, didn't they?" Lupe said solemnly.

Richard nodded. It oddly felt good to talk about it with someone who didn't hate him for daring to live through it. "The doctors thought I might not walk again at all or that I would be paralyzed."

Lupe sat on the side of the bed. "Always start with hot. I'm going to put it on, if it's too hot, tell me."

She laid the sack over the bulk of his scarred and sunken leg. The temperature was high, but the warmth was welcome. "Feels good," he said in gratitude.

"Can I ask what happened?" Lupe asked.

"Not much to tell. This was in the final days, March of 45. I had seen some action, but not much. I had only been of age for a short while anyway, and when I got over there my unit was charged with sweeping up after the real fighting had already gone through. I was in the infantry, and we were ordered to take Dorsten after an air raid. Mostly pockets of Nazis here and there, a few units that hadn't fallen back yet or had become separated from their COs or their COs were dead. Nazi snipers got a few of the men in my unit, but we were not expecting much resistance. We weren't expecting many people to even be alive, just some scared civilians. Well, I wasn't at least. I turned a corner and walked right into the line of fire of a machine gun nest."

"They took me to the field hospital that had been set up in a potato field. I nearly bled to death before I got there. I don't remember much, except that I thought I was going to die. And I wasn't even worried about dying, because there was no way that death could hurt more than that. But I didn't die, obviously, and I got shipped back home. That's about it." Richard summed up.

Lupe moved the bag so that it heated a different section of flesh and said nothing.

"Pretty stupid of me, hm?" he said, almost to himself. "To give up my health and fitness for what? For nothing," he answered his own bitter question.

"Oh, I don't think so at all," Lupe rushed to say. "You're a hero."

Richard scowled. "Don't lie to me to make me feel better, I know I'm a fool."

"I'm not lying," she said shortly. "You helped to stop an evil empire. My bunkmate is a Pole and she told me about all the horrible things that the Nazis did in her country, especially to the Hebrews. No one alone could have stopped them, but you and all the other men did so together. Nothing gets done by one man alone, no matter how much they like to pretend down here that that's true."

Richard exhaled slowly. "You think so?"

Lupe nodded. "Of course. If you weren't willing to risk yourself, then the Nazis may have won. If brave men like you weren't willing to risk themselves, then no one would have fought them. You didn't lose your leg for nothing, you lost it so that an evil empire would be ground into the dust. That's a hero."

No one had ever quite put it like that to Richard before, and he felt his muscles relax somewhat. It felt very nice indeed. "I've been a cripple since I was eighteen," he said. "My wife doesn't think I'm a hero, she thinks I am pathetic."

Lupe paused before replying. "Maybe she does not understand the seriousness of the war." Lupe gingerly started to massage the edges of the wound. "Does that feel good?"

"Yes," he answered.

Lupe sighed. "I understand the seriousness of it. My family had to leave Argentina when I was young. There was a lot of trouble in the government, and my father was worried that fascists would win. He saw what the Nazis were like when they had come to power, so he thought America would be safer. But, if we hadn't left I would have needed saving by a brave man such as yourself. So no, I don't think you are pathetic, I think you are the definition of hero; someone who sacrifices himself for others."

Richard smiled. "How do you know that I am not going to go and tell everyone that you're a bleeding heart altruistic communist who wants everyone to work together for the common good, who thinks that the best thing a man can do is sacrifice himself?"

"Because you're a good man, and…" she stopped massaging him. "And I don't think you believe any of this nonsense about the great chain either."

"Lupe, please, I'm serious, you can't go around saying these sorts of things. Ryan has got secret police to uncover people who don't agree with him."

"Just like Hitler did," she remarked sagely.

"Yes, just like he did," Richard answered solemnly. "If anyone reports you talking like that you'll get dragged off to God knows where and for God knows what."

"You're in trouble too," she replied. "You aren't supposed to be talking about God either."

A strange feeling stirred in Richard. A mixture of fear and affection, a swirling concoction of hope and dread. "I would hate to see something happen to you," Richard said slowly. A sinking feeling came to him, that she was too willing to share her thoughts and feelings, that something bad would happen to her. "Please, watch what you say."

Lupe began to massage his leg again. "All right, I will."

"Good. And it's not that I disagree with you but, I don't want to lose anything else on top of my health. There was an engineer at my firm who was arrested for speaking out against Ryan over his policy on not letting anyone leave. He just disappeared. Then these men came to our offices and looked through our mail and papers. Someone at work must have tattled on the engineer. Dissent is not tolerated, Lupe, and…and you're a pretty young girl. I don't believe that the secret police would treat you with proper respect, if you get my meaning."

Lupe didn't reply. Richard thought that he had been too harsh, that he had perhaps scared her, but he also felt that she needed to be aware of the stark reality of the situation.

"My leg feels much better," he said after a few moments of heavy silence. "Thank you."

Lupe removed the hot bag and replaced it with the chilled one. "I have chores to do," she said meekly. "I'll check in on you from time to time and switch the sacks. Please excuse me."