Not Even Death-Eternally Your Master (2 page)

~x~X~x~X~x~

Mid-town Manhattan 1999

She was running through an alley in the city. She
recognized the scene easily. It was the night that changed her
life.

In her haste she’d turned the corner too closely and
slammed directly into the dark suit of the detective she knew all
too well.

“
Yo’Carissa, why did you have to make me chase
you? Didn’t I tell you to leave the city? Ya’ know I’m gonna have
to lock you up one of these times.” Detective Sheridan’s soft dark
eyes looked down on her sternly. She was exasperating!

He’d gotten her out of plenty of scrapes and was
always compassionate toward her. He’d even taken the time to listen
to her life story one night in the park. Over sodas and a couple of
dirty water dogs, she’d told the all too familiar tale of a girl
from a very broken childhood. She’d never had a home, broken or
otherwise, her short life had been tragic.

“
Yeah, yeah, I know.” Carissa said, looking for an
excuse in the cracks of the sidewalk while she tried to catch her
breath. “Ya’ know me—I’m just biding my time ‘til Prince Charming
comes along to whisk me off my feet. Unless of course…you… want to
adopt me” She fluttered her big eyes at him and smiled. Her attempt
at playfulness wasn’t going to work tonight.

Detective Sheridan began walking her toward his
cruiser. “Carissa, you’re a sweet girl, so I’m gonna do you a
solid.” His gruff Brooklynese barely hid his obvious soft spot for
her. He opened the passenger door and motioned for her to get
in.

“
Hey, Sheridan, where are you takin’ me?” she
asked, looking for a place to run.

“
Your chariot awaits my dear…At Penn Station.” He
began to walk around to the driver’s side, hoping she wouldn’t run.
She rested her chin on the frame of the door, her glowing eyes
trained on his every move. She wasn’t running.

“
Ya’ know, you can take the PATH train out to
Jersey…You could take the LIRR, go stir up trouble in the Hamptons
or somethin’.” He flashed a big smile. She rolled her eyes in
response. “Ya’ know, the Air Train…it’ll take ya’ to JFK and you
can go just about anywhere.” He paused and looked hard at her
across the roof of the car.”Ya’ just gotta get outta my city
Caris’. Next time, I’m gonna have to lock you up and I really don’t
wanna do that, capiche?

They rode through Mid-Town in silence. Carissa had
nowhere to go, and fought back tears as she envisioned leaving her
comfort zone.

When they pulled up in front of Penn Station
Detective Sheridan turned off the car. He looked to her, compassion
in his eyes, jaw set tightly as he tried to hold the tough façade
in place. “You know I’ll have to Caris’… So please…” He fished
around in his pocket and pulled out a wad of money, handing it to
Carissa, “Take this…and go.” His face softened, as warmth overtook
his expression. “Consider it a contribution to your future.”

Carissa stared out the window, hot tears stung her
face as she felt his rough hand close hers around the roll.
“Future, yeah, right…I don’t think I’ve got too much hope for one
of those Sheri.” She pulled her cloak of toughness around to shield
her.

“
You do have a future. It’s out there…waiting for
you.”He tried to impart hope and sincerity. The façade was no
longer viable; his words were from the heart.

Carissa jumped when she heard the click indicating
the doors were unlocked. She quickly grabbed the small bag from
between her feet and opened the door to exit the cruiser.

“
Ya’ know,” She said, turning momentarily. “No
one’s ever just done anything nice for me….Thanks for being such a
non-human Sher’.” He squeezed her hand and she stepped onto 7th
Avenue, leaving a chuckle behind and closing the door. She didn’t
look back.

She had too much nervous energy to bother with the
escalator, so she fell in with the crowd and descended the stairs,
underground, to Penn Station. She didn’t know where to go or what
to do.

She stopped at Dunkin Donuts and grabbed a coffee.
Then she began wandering aimlessly around the vast terminal,
contemplating her options. Finally she settled against a column to
think. She people watched, and listened as the overhead speaker
announced the arrival, boarding and departure of what seemed like a
thousand trains. So many people on their way home…so many towns…but
none of them sounded like her home.

Finally, there was a lull, and yet she couldn’t make
herself leave. She could just buy a ticket and go—somewhere.
Instead, she sat stiff against the column, on the hard tile floor,
unable to move.

As she scanned the expansive station, looking toward
the exit to 8th Avenue and back toward 7th Avenue, she felt the
pressure. As if being pulled by magnetic forces from both sides,
luring her, yanking her back to the city she knew so well. It would
be so easy to disappear, back into the night. If she snuck out the
back to 8th Avenue, she could even get a room at the New Yorker for
a few days. She had the money, and could hide from Sheridan and
everyone. Then she could just tell him it hadn’t worked out. She
instantly felt the extra pressure from the weight of guilt. He’d
been so good to her.

She tried to find solace as she pulled her big coat
tight, attempting to comfort the coldness inside. She prepared to
go against her gut, something she rarely did.

She shoved her hands deep in her pockets, past the
roll of bills and to the bottom, only then did she feel something
strange. Rustling around and trying to retrieve the bottom dweller
she finally pulled out a crumpled piece of thick paper. She
unfolded it and lightly ran her finger across the raised lettering
on the once fancy looking business card. “Markus Cruz, President
and C.E.O.-Cruz Enterprises” She recalled the good-looking,
well-dressed man from the alley. He did say he could help.

With hope she hurriedly emptied the contents of her
bag onto the tile in front of her. Sifting through her possessions
she looked for as much change as she could find. Detective Sheridan
had done such a good deed, so, allowing some of her cynicism to
fall away, she considered the suit. “Maybe, not everyone has a
fuckin’ angle.”

After re-packing her bag she jumped up in search of
a payphone. Her hands trembled as she fed the change into the
antiquated machine. The phone started ringing and she thought of
what she was doing. She had to hang up, and run, not walk to the
New Yorker. Just then, the ringing stopped.

“
Hello, Markus Cruz here.” The smoldering voice on
the other end of the phone changed her mind instantly.

“
Hi…it’s umm...me….the girl from the alley. You
said you could help.”

~x~X~x~X~x~

She drifted in and out of sleep and dreams,
uncertain of reality and imagination. The time since the funeral
had been filled with these strange fugue states. Time meant
nothing, and nothing mattered.

Now, she had a purpose. She
was
a
slave and her Master was
still
at the reigns.

With hope, she allowed herself to drift off.
Where dreams found her, Markus was sure to be. The rest of the
night she tossed and turned, finding him over and over again. What
beautiful dreams he’d created.

She woke as the sun lit the curtains around
her. They glowed in beautiful, jewel tones, coloring her day as she
rolled over and stretched out long. For the first time since
Markus’ illness she woke with a smile. He wasn’t really gone, just
a little further away than usual.

Her feet welcomed the dewy grass as she
ambled across the sprawling grounds. Looking down at her wet toes
she realized how she’d neglected the small details.
Note to
self: Get pedicure.

Padding into the kitchen she startled at the
sound of her feet hitting the tile. Everything had been silent and
now she could hear it all. Grabbing coffee she returned to the
morning. She sat in the garden, smiling and listening to the birds.
Their song returning to her heart brought new hope.

Each day without him had rolled along in a
bleak, gray mist, building one upon another. But this day, this
morning, was unfolding itself for her eyes to behold and cherish.
It would not be enveloped by the storm; it would rise above, stand
apart; it would chase the storm away.

She felt him in everything she did, he was
alive within her. She hung her head, in momentary shame for having
allowed him to die so easily.
It is not your place to punish
you, that place is mine alone Kitten.
His voice in her heart,
physically, jolted her back to her place. Her head snapped to
attention as she remembered the hard learned lesson.

She’d always had to learn the hard way, and
Markus was skillful when it came to teaching her lessons. He never
just gave in, never allowed her to control things by topping from
the bottom and the lessons were always absorbed.

The sun shone high in the sky as the
afternoon arrived. She hadn’t seen the sun from where she’d been
almost exclusively residing since the funeral. Behind the closed
curtains and confines of the Master’s suite, there was no sun, no
moon; there were only tearful memories and sleepless nights.
Looking up to the sky she felt the warmth on her face, the light of
the sun grazing her skin. She’d missed it.

As she sat in the garden, taking in the sun
she heard the sound of footsteps approaching in the distance. She
jumped and adjusted her eyes to the light as she tried to focus on
the figure. It was the mailman.

She’d let the mail pile up in the small box
before yesterday. There was nothing she’d wanted to see, no one she
cared to hear from; until, his letter. Now, she skipped toward the
gate at an excited pace. Hoping…

“I have another registered parcel for you
Mrs. Cruz.” The mailman said. He extended a pen for her to sign and
handed her the latest package. It too, was from Markus.

She didn’t open it, or stop to get coffee.
She knew exactly where to go and what to do. Her feet barely
touched the ground as she dashed across the yard, clinging tightly
to the envelope. Today was going according to plan, rising above
and kicking the storm’s ass! Oh, how she loved him.

Once she’d passed the stones and bounced onto
the pillows she opened the envelope. She paused, trying to catch
her breath. With closed eyes, face turned toward the sky, she
smiled and blew a kiss. She knelt, open, presenting herself for his
latest message. His absence was no excuse to be lazy. She’d done
enough of that already.

Slowly, she pulled the fine parchment from
its holder. She wanted to savor every minute detail of these
moments. She heard the crisp sound of the paper unfolding, noting
the feel of it in her hands. She took in the beauty of his
penmanship, before holding it to her face and breathing in deeply.
Was that really his scent?
Or just the memory of what she
knew so well?

Kitten,

I’m sure the last day has been a new beginning for
you. You need to know, I granted you the time to grieve
intentionally, just as I intentionally put a halt to it yesterday.
I could’ve started the letters instantly, but then you would not
have processed your feelings. The denial, isolation and depression
are over Kitten. I hope you’ve taken the time to work through the
anger too. You will have your moments, I am certain, but these
stages of grief will not be wallowed in like a pig wallows in
mud.

As for bargaining and acceptance…Well, I’ve never
been one to acquiesce to convention, so why start now? I will lead
you through those stages personally. Even in death, I will guide
you and give you what you would bargain for; more time. Through the
gift of time, we will find your acceptance together.

He’d always been the most amazing man she’d ever
met. As she read, she knew, she was only beginning to understand
the vast depth of his soul and his most wonderful attributes.

She slowly slid the first sheet of paper behind the
second, making certain she’d read and understood each syllable.

As, I told you yesterday, I have friends who will be
looking out for you. I thought it best to begin with someone you
are acquainted and comfortable with. Derrick, will be the first to
assist me. He’s always liked you, and will do as I desire in a way
you’ll accept. He will surprise you Kitten, be prepared for it. He
is acting on my behalf as surely as if he were one of my floggers.
Expect the unexpected and go with it. You will find I know you
better than you could ever guess.

Eternally,

Your Master

Markus

CHAPTER THREE

The days that followed found her preparing
for the unexpected. She tended to the pedicure and made certain to
shave every inch of her neglected body. She excitedly anticipated
the unfolding of Markus’ plan.