Perry Scope - When the loving gets rough

The garden was almost real to her. She could nearly feel, smell and see it. She found herself thinking of Al and their shattered marriage before she could censor herself. Then Karen realized why the garden scene kept urging thoughts of Allen into her mind. Their marriage had been like that. Calm and vaguely wrong, like the house by the garden, which she now remembered as being much too modern, far too incongruous with the rolling garden it tried to obliterate. They had been like that, and their own personal fire had come along. If it hadn't been Pat, it almost certainly would have been something or someone else. There had been too little either of them were willing to do… Although the fire had destroyed their house utterly, new grasses, the seeds of those which had been there all that terrible time, were taking hold and growing again. That was the way it had been with the garden. Wasn't it also the way their marriage was? The fire had done immense damage, but was it really irremediable? Wasn't the excitement she felt at the thought of her husband like those tender new grasses? A rebirth? Allen had said he still loved her, wanted her back… Even in a fire, Karen remembered, the basic foundation was very rarely demolished.

The man had almost drugged himself with her succulent young body. He was ready for the big trip now. He freed himself from the hand which held him tightly. He looked into the girl's face. It was impressive. He wondered curiously if she was getting anything out of this at all, or if she was just another indifferent whore. Not that it mattered. He was getting what he wanted.

The enormous pressure of a large body lowering itself onto her brought Karen instantly back to reality. She realized that she really didn't have to fear going back to Allen with her past! Now that she understood the past and felt she could learn from it, the past was dead, unimportant. Like the garden. All that really mattered were the seeds and the foundation. There would never again be the need for guilt to weigh either of them down! At times, a reinforced article worked better than a new one. A mended broken bone was twice as strong.

"Here we go, baby," the man was saying as he parted her smooth thighs with his hands.

In order for her and Al to have the slightest chance, they each had to do more than just respect each other, Karen thought frantically. They had to respect themselves! It had to start now!

Every trace of listlessness evaporated in a shower of elated hope. Karen used her hands so suddenly the man never had a chance to protect his position. She managed to lift his large body off herself, pushing the man without a trace of gentleness to the floor.

"I'm sorry! It's over!" she said, leaping from the bed. She was half into a pair of jeans and shirt before the man got up.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded. His shocked body was softening.

"It's over. Either take your money and go, or stick around. My friend will return soon. I'm sure she'd be more than willing to help you out." Karen pulled a brush through her long hair quickly, wishing she could take more time with her appearance. But, it was Friday night – Karen wanted to get home before Al returned from school. She wanted to fix him some dinner – she couldn't imagine what he might be eating these days! She wanted to straighten the house. There was so much she wanted to do!

Karen looked around the room, ignoring the still naked man who sat dumbly on the bed. This, she knew, was still another example of a lifelong pattern. She had always gotten her way, even when in her life with Al it had meant endangering their entire marriage. Mother – guilt – run… Allen – guilt – run… Pat – guilt – run? Wasn't she now planning to complete the cycle? Wasn't she about to run again, even if this were, in effect, a run to reality?

Strength flowed through her veins now. She was strong enough to work out her own problems! She could never go back to Al until she had taken care of the biggest problem of all. Her idea of being home to greet Al would have to wait. She would bring him something warmer than a hot dinner, something cleaner than a spotless house. She would bring herself, free of Pat and her crippling guilt forever. She would never really be free of Pat until she was immune to the girl's fury and tears.

"On second thought, take your money and go. There's nothing here for you tonight." Karen didn't even hear the man's muffled curses as he dressed and left the apartment. He took the money from the dresser before he left.

Karen sat down on the one chair in the apartment, waiting patiently for Pat to return. She wasn't looking forward to telling Pat her decision, but doing it was vital. She couldn't bring her problem home for Al to solve. They would have enough of their own.

Pat knocked discreetly on the door. She had stayed at Bickki's an hour longer than necessary, to be sure to give Karen and her customer enough time. Besides, Bickki had been bending her ear over losing Lennie who she'd gotten together with not long ago. The girl had broken a date and then neglected to come back to keep another one that night Lennie was a bore. So, in fact, was Bickki.

"Come in!" Karen was surprised to discover that she wasn't at all nervous. If this is what she had to do to go home, she was ready to do it.

"Oh," Pat said, seeing Karen sitting in the chair, fully dressed and made up. "I wanted to make sure you were alone." She threw herself on the bed. "How was it?"

"Fine. I didn't go through with it," Karen answered calmly. "I want to talk to you, Pat."

"You didn't go through with it!" Pat rolled off the bed and looked at Karen.

"It's not important, now."

Pat looked somewhere between angry and hysterical. "You promised! You gave me your…"

Karen looked at her erstwhile lover in stilled fascination. She wondered how she had ever thought Pat sensitive and beautiful. It was like looking at a portrait of sickness. She found neither beauty nor sensitivity in the intense face which glared at her, wavering between hate and self-pity. "Pat," she said as gently as she could, "I'm going back to Allen. I'm going home."

The next hour was only the beginning of an ordeal, the sort Karen hoped she would never have to go through again. Pat tried a burst of anger that numbed Karen's ears with its volume and fury. When that didn't work, Pat cried. Karen took the anger, the tears, the verbal brutality which followed them, and she also managed to withstand the final tantrum which came in the form of Pat on her knees, trying to make love to the girl, then begging for another chance. The arguments seemed endless, and lasted long into the night.

"I can make you happy, you'll…" Pat tried to kiss Karen's compressed lips.

Karen turned her head slightly, taking the kiss on her cheek. She waited patiently until Pat was finally quiet. Then she tried to explain how she felt. "It won't work. It never could. I'm going where I belong."

"What do you want from me? Congratulations? Am I supposed to wish you luck and Godspeed and all that?" Pat gave up. She refused to look at the girl. She thought of Paula, the young poetess who had made it very plain that she would give anything to be in Karen's place. So would Lorna. She didn't need Karen. She didn't need anyone.

"I don't need anything from you, except your word that you won't try to see me again. It would only make matters worse for all of us." Karen suspected that Pat wasn't as heartbroken as she wanted Karen to believe she was. That made it easier. She had packed earlier. Now she lifted her two suitcases and walked to the door. She wanted to say goodbye, but decided against it. The set of Pat's back demanded a more dramatic farewell.

Unfortunately, for Pat, Karen couldn't think of one.