3.17.2006

CHAPTER 22 - Women...

THE week after Mike left, the first of June and the beginning of my last month in the Czech Republic, didn’t exactly start out as a good one. Monday night, I spotted Herman in the TV room, as usual, with his lips glued to a bottle of cheap generic vodka. He looked extremely depressed and even more drunk than usual... Well, at least for a Monday.
"What’s wrong man? You alright?"
"Fucking hell... No, Paul! I’m not FUCKING alright! Do prdele Česke Republika... FUCKING KUNDA! Kurvas, Paul. All of them, KURVAS!!" and he took another swig of vodka, downing what must have been an eighth of the bottle in one go.
"Whoa! Easy there, Herman. What’s the problem?"
"What’s the problem? What’s the problem?! I just told you. FUCKING KURVAS in this country. This time at my school... My school-FUCKING-director, Novakova. That fucking..." he mumbled off.
"Why man? What did she do?"
"She fired me! That’s what the bitch did. In June and on my ass! With only one month of school left to go and that KURVA gives me the boot!"
"Wow, really? Incredible, how can they do that? With only a month left... When do your classes end? Or, I mean, when were they supposed to?"
"Three and a half weeks. That fucking kurva couldn’t wait three and a half weeks. I’ve been there since September, workin’ my ass off, and that SRDLAVA KUNDA fires me NOW?! I’ll be broke by the end of the month!" he spat.
"Shit... That sucks." Herman took another long gulp and then offered me some. I politely refused, but went to my room, got a bottle of beer, and came back to keep him company.
It turns out that, at least as far as Herman was concerned, he had been fired simply because the director didn’t agree with his teaching methods. I wasn’t exactly sure what his teaching methods were... Apart from the one he had told me, Kim, and others over and over again – that he had had sex with three of his ten female students. With one of them, actually, in the classroom after the lesson had ended.
But Herman assured me that wasn’t why he had been fired. Instead, it was because one or two of his students had, once again, complained about his homework assignment to the school director. She was simply fed up.
"Well fuck, man. I mean, what kind of homework can possibly be so bad? What did you make them do?"
"Essays! That FUCKING KURVA! All I gave them were essays to write. About once every month or so. That’s it."
"That’s it?" I leaned back into my seat and began rolling a cigarette.
"That’s it! Some fuckin’ students complain and then that kurva Novakova immediately takes their side. Fuck! How are they supposed to learn English if they never write the goddamn language."
"I agree completely, man," I finished rolling my cigarette, put it to my lips, and lit it. "So, what were these essays about exactly? Did you give them a topic or could they just write about whatever?"
"No. I always gave them a topic."
"Like what?"
"Well, the last one – the one that cost me this fucking job – was ‘Suicide is always an option.’"
"What? What was it?"
"Suicide is always an option."
"Whoa... that’s a little... Say, Herman. How old are your students again?"
"Around sixteen to twenty. Why?"
"Fuck, man. I mean, do you really think that’s an appropriate topic for teenagers? The whole suicide thing is a little... Well, you know... a little morbid."
"FUCK THAT KURVA! It’s the truth, isn’t it? Suicide is always an option."
"Well yeah, I... I guess it is, but... Forget it. So, what’s another topic you gave them? One before this suicide assignment."
"‘Death is the only goal we can all hope to achieve.’"
"Jesus, that’s heavy." I took a long drag and let the smoke slowly escape through my nostrils. "Say, Herman. Have you ever given them a topic not so... Well, you know... depressing – about death and all?"
"Of course! Like the first topic I ever gave them when I started this entire essay activity back in October. ‘Pedophilia isn’t always pedophilia.’"
"Paul! Paul!" Dejan was calling me from our room down the hall. "Someone’s on the phone for you."
"Gotta go, Herman. Hate to cut this short. Sorry about the job and all again."
"Fucking kurva..." and he wrapped his lips once more around the vodka bottle as I dashed to my room.
Kamilla was on the phone. The wife of the director of ELVIS. She was blunt and to the point with her broken English. Her hubby, the King, wanted to speak with me urgently. She asked if I could stop by the office the following day and speak with him. I told Priscilla I’d be there and hung up with an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
The King. What the hell did he want with me? I had never really spoken with him. Just the occasional hello when our paths happened to cross. Other than that, I’d usually just stop by and pick up my paycheck at the beginning of each month. But payday was still a few days away. My thoughts immediately went to Herman’s current dilemma and back to what Kim had told me all those months ago, when I had first met him and told him I was working for ELVIS. "They hire and fire teachers all the time."
Not only would it be convenient for the school to fire me a month before classes ended – that way they wouldn’t have to pay me the one month summer holiday pay they gave all teachers – but they also had good reason to. I never sent that resume I had promised them. Never forwarded a copy of my alleged teaching qualification certificate. Never got all legal papers in order either. And, worst of all, I was practically drooling over one of my female students. Even if Eva hadn’t complained – which I’m sure she hadn’t – one of the other students might have. It was clear I was smothering her with attention and it was affecting my lessons.
I lay down in bed and considered my options. I could take my last paycheck – which the King was probably going to give me the next day – pack my things, and start traveling again. Where though? ...Why not Italy! Venice... I had never been there but always wanted to visit. And with my last paycheck, I’d have enough money to get there and live for about two weeks. Hopefully I’d be able to find some work by then. A great plan. I could leave by the end of the week, skip out on my rent at the Dum, and be back on the road once again. On the other hand, Italy was pretty expensive. Especially during the summer. A week’s worth of living there could probably pay for a month’s worth in Prague, where I didn’t have to worry about rent. I had friends in the city. Luke, Pavel, Jordan, etc. They’d definitely let me stay at one of their places until I found some other work – either in Bohemia or somewhere else in the world through the Internet, just as I had done all those months ago in Δερβένι.
The phone rang. Dejan answered it. It was for me again. It was Marie. I didn’t recognize her voice at first. I hadn’t spoken to her since Greece. We had written each other letters the first few months after we went our separate ways, but that soon fizzled out. She was done teaching in Δερβένι (classes had finished on the last day of May), she told me, and was planning on heading back to Canada for a while. Before that though, she was wondering if she could pay me a small visit. Just for a weekend, that weekend, in order to see me and Prague. A brief stopover designed to say hello to an ex-lover and experience the city everyone was raving about.
I told her my situation. How I had probably just lost my job, was flat broke, and destined to move out of my apartment by the following week. If she didn’t mind and could make it before then, I told her, she was more than welcome. Marie was glad to hear it. She had, in fact, already booked her flight to Prague for that Friday night. She had decided beforehand that she was going to come see the Czech Republic and have a great weekend, whether I wanted her there or not. I reassured her that it would be great to see her again and spend my last days in the city with her. And so, we agreed – I’d meet her at the airport Friday evening.
As I went to sleep that night, I thought of how lucky I was to have Marie to encourage me, to guide me in a way. I was worried about losing my job earlier in the day, but now it seemed pointless worrying over such a trivial matter. If I lost it, I lost it. Life had to go on. Just as Marie was going to come to Prague whether I wanted her there or not, I too would continue on my way, no matter how difficult the journey became... A journey that Marie, out of all people, had inspired me to take. How fitting that my last days in Prague – the end of my initiation into this life’s journey – would be spent with that very person.
The next morning, before I left my room in the Dum for another day of classes, I paused behind my doorway and read the poem I had posted there. The same one I had copied out by hand back when I first began college. The same one I had been carrying around with me ever since in my wallet. The same one I had forgotten about during my time of stock market riches. And the very same one I had stuck onto my door the second I moved into the Dum all those months ago – so that it would always be perfectly visible. Robert Frost was a perfect way to start off each day, especially on an old, worn, piece of notebook paper:

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


I rang the doorbell to the office at exactly one o’clock in the afternoon, the time we had agreed upon. One of the secretaries came and opened the door. I walked through to the small, cramped study/waiting room and saw the King, Priscilla, and Alena, my morning co-teacher, all sitting together on what chairs were available and speaking in Czech. I had no idea what they were talking about but, once the King saw me, he said something briefly to the others and they got up to leave the room, curtly saying "Hello Paul" as they passed. Priscilla closed the door behind herself and left us two alone.
"Hello Mr...." I cut myself short. I had no idea what his name was! I always referred to my boss as the King and the students and other teachers simply called him Old Elvis. "How are you, sir?"
"Yes, yes. Very well, Paul. Thank you. But please sit down. I must speak to you," he began in his heavy Czech accent.
"Yeah, okay." I pulled up a seat.
"Sorry to be so quick, but I am very busy today. Thank you for coming."
"It’s okay. Don’t mention it."
"If you want, because you are here today, you can take your money for May before the paying day."
"Yeah, thanks." Get to the point, Elvis. "So, why did you call me here today?"
"Well, Paul, I must tell you something. I’m sorry, it is very difficult and... um... in the last minute? Is that correct? Do you understand me?" he hesitated a bit. "Last minute?"
"Yeah. It’s alright. You can say that. But at the last minute, not in."
"Yes, so I am very sorry. It is June and school finishes in one month. But I must. I talk to your students and Alena, and they tell me. Morning students, yes. And also evening students and when you are teaching for other teachers... What is the word?"
"Substitutions?"
"Yes, substitutions. All of them tell me the same. From beginning that you teach with us until now. I know it is more than half of a year and now it is only June. School will finish soon but I must. And again, last minute, I am sorry. But I must... Maybe, you can teach me?"
"What?"
"Teach me. Can you teach me?"
"I’m... I’m sorry. I don’t really understand you. You want ME to teach YOU?"
"Yes. You see? You don’t understand me. That is the problem. In July, I will travel to England for holidays but my English is very bad. For example, you say that you don’t understand me..."
"No, what I meant was..." I cut the King off.
"Please, allow me," he continued. "I know. I am sorry. It is only for one month and at the last minute, but please. Can you teach me?"
"Well, I mean... Yeah, of course. But... but... Why me?"
"Why you? I told you. All students, Alena, and everyperson – they all say that you are a very good teacher. The best. So, I want you to teach me. Again, I am very sorry it is at the last minute but... Please?"
"Yes. Okay. Sure. No problem. Um, how often do you want lessons?"
"Super! Is it okay for Wednesdays and Fridays every week this month? One hour and half each time?"
"Yeah, that’s okay with me. So, I guess tomorrow then, right?"
"Yes, super! Here at this time. One o’clock, yes? And Friday too."
"Alright then."
"So, I am very happy now. But I must go. I am very busy." The King got up, as did I, and we shook hands firmly. "So, tomorrow at one! Oh, and Paul, I will pay you extra for this lessons, because it is at the last minute and I want to thank you very much," as the he winked and patted me cordially on the back. "See you tomorrow!" and with that, Elvis opened the door and soon had left the building. I sent Pavel a text message the moment I parted from the office and asked him if he wouldn’t mind holding our routine Wednesday Czech-English lesson one day early that week. I felt like celebrating the day’s fortune with a nice cold half-liter of Pilsner.

Early Friday night, I went to Ružinye International Airport and awaited Marie. When she stepped through the arrivals gate, she looked just as I had pictured she would – a free-flowing bandana wrapped around her forehead and traveler’s backpack strapped around her shoulders. I had been wondering ever since she called me earlier in the week if I would still have any feelings for her. If there was still anything left from the magic we had once shared as a couple all that time ago. As we hugged each other hello and I stared once again into those blue eyes I had forgotten, I knew there was nothing left. Too much time had passed.
"Oh my God, Paul! I can’t believe I’m here with you! This is, like, crazy, eh? Meeting up here in Prague and all!"
"Yeah, I mean, I had no idea when – or even if – I would ever see you again."
"Come on, Beautiful," Marie winked at me. "You knew our paths would cross again. It’s destiny!"
"Sure it is. You with your destiny hocus-pocus. So, anyway, how have you been?"
"Pretty good. You know. Here and there. Wherever the wind takes me!"
"Still go that free spirit, huh?"
"Yep!" she smiled cheerily. "Some one that infected you, remember?"
"Of course I do. How could I forget?" We both looked deep into each other’s eyes and grinned. "So, let’s go back to my place and you can drop your stuff off." I tried to pick up Marie’s backpack and carry it for her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. As we stepped out of the terminal and headed towards the bus stop, I gave Marie another quick look up and down. She still turned me on with her sexy little body. More than half a year may have passed, along with all platonic emotions, but her wiggling ass still caught my eye. Maybe it was because I hadn’t had sex since November – since I had left her. "You look good, Marie."
"Thanks Paul! So do you. Especially in your dad’s clothing," Marie winked at me again. She knew that the shirt I was wearing was one of my dad’s old ones, abandoned back in Greece. I had practically forgotten, but she hadn’t. She was the one who had packed it. "Hey, Paul. Listen. Seriously now. If you want me to stay somewhere else tomorrow night, because you have to pack or whatever, no worries, eh?"
It had completely slipped my mind. Marie still thought I was without a job. Homeless and rejected by the King, just as I had told her over the phone earlier that week. How much one man’s fortunes can change in a matter of days. I told Marie all about it and, during the ride home, filled her in with as much as I could remember of my life since my arrival in Prague. ELVIS, the Dum, Kim, Pavel and Horní Planá. She then told me how life had been in the Peloponnese, in Δερβένι. All throughout the winter, isolated in a small Greek fishing town.
I took Marie upstairs to my room and she dropped her heavy backpack to the floor. "Welcome to my humble abode. Luxurious room 806 in the world-renowned Dum."
"It’s alright though, Paul. Not that bad." Marie gave it a quick look and signaled her head to the bed. "So," she winked, "that’s where all the magic happens, eh Beautiful?" Marie always used to call me ‘Beautiful’. I guess she still hadn’t gotten over the habit.
"Well, we can make a little magic this weekend if you want, Sugartits!" ‘Sugartits’ had always been my equivalent to her ‘Beautiful’.
"Mmm, I would love to. But... Don’t you, like, have a girlfriend here for that or something?"
"What me?! Fuck no." The only magic – if it could be called that – that my bed had seen over the past half year was on the days that I happened to buy a new porno mag. Hopefully Marie would change that.
"Well, Paul, you see... The thing is, that I sort of do."
"What? Fuck... Really?" She wouldn’t be changing anything.
"Come on, Beautiful. I’m sure you’ve been getting along great here without me though. You’re a handsome guy and, well, you always knew how to satisfy a lady!"
"Really? Thanks! But... Well, let’s just say that I’ve been having a bit of a dry spell."
"For how long?"
"Shit," I hesitated a bit. Did I really want Marie to know? "Well, actually... Since I left you."
"What?" Marie’s blue eyes lit up. "I don’t believe it! You? Beautiful?"
"Yeah, yeah. Listen, we can talk about this later. Why don’t you go take a shower or freshen up or whatever it is you wanted to do? I’ll go get the cot from my roommate, set it up in here, and then, when you’re ready, we can go out and I’ll show you around a bit. Okay?"
Marie and I went to the center for a drink – at the same place Mike and I had gone during our first night out – and I told her all about my sexual misadventures and frustrations. Eva, Margaret... even Kyle. But especially about Eva. We talked about Eros, Philia, and Agape again and we both agreed. Eva was nothing more than Eros. It was about time I got over her. Advice I had kept giving myself but, unfortunately, had been unable to follow. Then Marie told me about her love. A boy she had met in Greece. His name was Paul too and, in fact, he had even studied in Philadelphia for a year during a high-school exchange program. Marie wasn’t sure how long she would be staying in Canada that summer. Her heart was still in Greece – with Paul. And their love, she believed, was true. All three pieces of that mysterious jigsaw puzzle fit together perfectly.
Marie and I had a great weekend together. I showed her all the sights – the grandeur of Staroměstské náměstí, the inspiring Karlův Most – and she opened up her heart and soul to me. She told me all of her hopes, desires, and fears, the largest of which was whether she would be able to give up her free-as-a-bird traveling lifestyle in order to settle down with Paul. I enjoyed our time together and these talks of things beyond, despite the fact that each time I saw her, one of our shared sexual memories would pop into my head and force me to realize how horny I actually was.
Sunday afternoon soon rolled around though and it was time to say goodbye. As we waited there in the airport, reminiscing about Greece and wondering when our paths would cross again, the boarding call for Marie’s flight was announced.
"You know, Paul. It’s incredible each time I think about it. If we hadn’t ever met, all that time ago in that café in Δερβένι, you probably wouldn’t even be here now, eh?"
"In Prague? No. You’re probably right. I’d be back home in Philly somewhere. Working some crappy job."
"Yeah, exactly. I mean... I, like, changed your life..."
"Of course you did!" I interrupted.
"But that’s not event he most incredible thing. Think of how many people’s lives you might change too. People who just need a little push, a little head start – just like you did. And those people will do the same to others. It’s like... it’s like... a beautiful circle of love, inspiration, and exploration. It’s incredible when you think about it, eh?"
"Yeah, it really is. But I don’t know about the whole circle thing. It’s that hocus-pocus of yours again!"
We both laughed and hugged each other goodbye. I wasn’t sure when I’d see my Marie, my goddess and guide to this freedom I had found, again. Or, more aptly, where I’d see her again. In the jungles of the Amazon, in a small African city, or even in a bustling Asian metropolis – the possibilities were endless.

The following week, while I was having one of my routine after-school coffees with Eva, I received a text-message from Margaret. She apologized for not having contacted me sooner (we hadn’t spoken since Mike’s arrival) and said that she had been extremely busy now that the school year was winding down and exams were becoming more of an issue for her students. Either way, her and her roommates were having a little get-together that evening and she said she’d love for me to come. What the fuck, I thought. I wasn’t doing anything anyway, so I accepted.
The ‘get-together’ was nothing more than the roommates, Kate, Margaret and Tom, and five other Brits and Americans sitting in the living room and drinking wine. I didn’t really know anyone there, apart from Margaret whom I hadn’t seen in weeks. As we all sat there drinking and talking, though, my isolation quickly became a thing of the past. I had known my companions of the evening before we even met. They were all individuals like me and it felt great to be surrounded by such people. People like Marie. Those who didn’t want to be confined by the limits of their home and had left at an early age to explore this wonderfully large world of ours. There must have been tens of thousands of them across the world, I thought. All experiencing different cultures and unwilling to conform to what they had been told was a typical life. I’ll always remember what one of the British boys said that night when I asked him why he had come to Prague, "If I’m going to get a bloody dead-end job, I might as well do it in another country!" I was proud to be counted among their ranks.
The third time I went out on the balcony to have a cigarette (they didn’t allow smoking in the flat because Kate was allergic to it), Margaret followed me. She put her arms around me and started kissing me on the neck before I even had a chance to light up. She apologized, again, for what had happened all those weeks ago in the Dum. I told her not to worry, pulled her in, and locked lips.
"I’ve missed you, Margaret. Kissing you. Holding you in my arms."
"Aye, so have Ah, luv," she smiled and licked her luscious lips.
"It’s a shame what happened with Kyle that last time. You know, I would have loved to make love to you all night long."
"Mmm," she purred. "So would Ah."
"In fact, I’d love to make love to you all night long tonight." Hell, I’d have loved to make love to anything with two legs and a hole in the front judging by the condition I was in.
"Same here, luv," she purred again. "But, Ah should tell ye... Kyle’s coming laeter tonicht."
"For fuck’s sake, Margaret," my voice raised a bit. "How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not interested in having sex with BOTH of you! Only YOU!"
"Ah know. Ah know, luv. But, och, it’d be gran fun! We’d hae a great time. Think o it! The three o us. All nicht long!"
"Jesus-fucking-Christ, Margaret." I let go of her completely. "Is that why you invited me here tonight? So that you can try and make this threesome thing happen again?"
"Well..." she couldn’t look me directly in the eyes.
"Look, go back inside and forget about it, okay? Let me smoke my cigarette in peace."
"But, luv..."
"No ‘buts’ Margaret," I cut her off. "It’s either me, or him. Not both. Now fuck off."
Whores, I thought to myself as I stood there alone, smoking and watching the traffic below. They’re all nothing but whores. Every woman that’s ever walked the planet. From the obvious lady of the night to my very mother. Either they wanted sex, and would stop at nothing to get it or, if they weren’t in the mood, they’d spurn every last attempt. At least with men, you always knew what you got – they ALWAYS wanted sex and would stop at nothing to get it. I was definitely only thinking that way because of what had happened – or, rather, what hadn’t happened – over the past few months with Eva, Margaret, Marie, and the countless other girls I had failed with since November. Especially after what Kim had once said about how easy Czech women were. As I tossed my spent cigarette to the street below and headed back inside, I couldn’t help but think of one piece of advice that Jordan had given me months before at one chess night. "When it comes to women, never overlook the three F’s, buddy. Find ’em, fuck ’em, and forget ’em." It may have been macho, chauvinistic, and all of those like adjectives, but at that moment, it seemed like sound advice.
I walked back into the kitchen to find that Kyle had arrived. He was sitting next to Margaret and, for the next hour or so, they both kept throwing glances in my general direction. I ignored every last one of them and simply continued talking to Kate, Margaret’s English roommate, who happened to be sitting to my right. An hour or so past midnight, Kyle eventually got up and headed to Margaret’s bedroom. She followed behind him, but not before coming over and whispering in my ear, "If ye change yer mind, bonny luv, knock on the door."
I stayed there in the kitchen, drinking and talking, well into the early morning. By that time, the only people left were Kate, Tom (the other roommate), two of Tom’s friends from Seattle that were staying there for a week, and me. It was late. I was drunk and tired. And I had to work in the morning. So I asked Kate and Tom if they would mind if I spent the night at their place. They had no problem. I’d just sleep there, get up in the morning, and go straight to work. Tom said he’d offer me his bed to sleep in, but his friends had been sleeping there and would be doing so again that night. That meant that he was sleeping on the couch so that was also off-limits too. Kate just told me to go and fall asleep in her bed. She didn’t mind. She’d find somewhere to sleep in the kitchen, living room, or one of the other bedrooms. I refused at first, but she insisted. So, I wished the others goodnight, stumbled into her bedroom, and fell asleep to the sound of those four still chatting away outside.
I awoke what must have been an hour or so later with Kate in bed by my side. She had just lain down. Apparently, she told me, whenever Tom got really drunk, he would always awkwardly come on to her. It was becoming a bit uncomfortable that night and she didn’t feel like sleeping anywhere else, so she asked if I minded her sleeping there with me.
"Of course not," I mumbled half-drunk and half-asleep. "This is your bed."
I soon started dozing off again when Kate’s hand found its way onto my chest. It slowly worked its way downward to my stomach where it hesitated a bit before continuing. Kate had discovered the Captain was standing at attention and whispered into my ear, "I think you’re so sexy."
"I was thinking the same thing about you all night," I lied and began kissing her. I took off her shirt as she unzipped my pants, and started fondling her smooth breasts.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Finally sex!!
I then continued to slide off Kate’s short skirt and kissed her from her head to her toes. Just as my fingers discovered the moist treasure between her legs, she pushed me onto my back and began taking off every article of clothing I had on. Her tongue then began at my nipples, worked its way down to my navel, and was soon rewarding the Captain for patiently saluting since his first appearance that evening. I leaned back, shut my eyes, and enjoyed every blissful second of it.
A few minutes later, Kate lifted her head, kissed me once more, and asked, "Do you have a condom?"
"Yeah, baby. Of course I do. In my wallet."
"Well then. Put in on and I’ll be right back," she kissed me again and stood up.
"Wait! Wait! Where are you going?"
"The washroom. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back."
"But why?"
"I always use spermicide. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back. Just put the condom on, okay?"
"Yeah. Sure. See you soon!" I blew her a kiss.
I got up and started looking through my pants for my wallet. Sex! Sex! Sex! I’m gonna have some sex! Gonna do it all night! Gonna do it all day! Sex! Sex! Sex! That’s the way! I found it and took out the condom. Had to wait since November, but finally! Almost eight months, but finally! No Margaret, no Eva, no Marie, but Kate – Finally! I ripped the package open with my teeth and placed the latex between my fingers. Yes! Yes! Yes! Finally! Sex!!
I looked down and the Captain was at ease. No!! Why did I drink too much? Why this? And why now?! I tried some hand-to-mouth resuscitation. Nothing. I tried slapping him around a bit and bringing him back to his senses. Still nothing. I’d just wait for Kate, I figured. The second she came back, he’d surely be back up on his feet.
But she couldn’t do anything either. She tried sucking, blowing, jerking, and licking – all to no avail. The Captain was on leave and wouldn’t have it any other way. I lay back down in bed, cursed the day he enlisted, apologized to Kate once again, and promised him a court-marshal upon return.

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