Every Breath You Take

A haunting encounter in the wildwood is enough to Jake's breath away.

approximately 4000 words

Every Breath You Take

Oh, can't you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take
--The Police

     

     

        The woman's song, beguiling and bewitching, washed across the wildwood and caressed the moonlight.  Another man might have been mesmerized, doomed to follow that song to its source.  But at this moment a different obsession gripped Jake.  He would soon hear the song, but not yet.

        His breath gusted in short, desperate bursts.  His hands trembled and his body boiled with an unwholesome craving.  His blond hair slaked across his forehead, and his running clothes clung to his sweat-soaked torso.  Frantic eyes scanned the park for a shadow of privacy.  There!  That picnic table would do.

        He sat and pulled a short glass tube, a baggie, and a Bic lighter from the pouch at his hip.  A crumpled paper rose grew from one end of the tube; the other end was stuffed with the blackened remnants of a Brillo pad.  He opened the baggie and, despite his shaking fingers, took great care with the precious white lumps inside.  He stuffed one lump in the Brillo end of the tube and then wrapped his lips about the paper rose petals at the other end.  "A glass dick," his dealer had called it.  He heated the white lump and inhaled deeply as the rock popped, melted and then fumed.

        The smoke swirled into his lungs and sluiced the tension from his mind and body.  As the last of the rock crackled into nonexistence he tipped his head back and contemplated the moon and the stars.  The familiar but fleeting euphoria suffused his soul.  The spent tube fell from his lips and he inhaled the sweet ambrosia of honeysuckle and pine.

        It was then that Jake at last heard the woman's song, wordless and forlorn, wafting through the forest. .

        He looked with longing at his works arrayed on the picnic table.  He knew his high would only last a few minutes and then his need would return, stronger and more insistent.  But this song, so soft and sibilant, suffused his spirit with a different kind of yearning.  He snatched up his tawdry tools and treasured rocks and stuffed them into his pouch.  The one singing must be close.  He would spend a few moments searching for the source of this song, a song that made his soul weep for what might have been.

        The woodland was ancient and serene.  The city had grown and now its angry tendrils snaked about the edges of the forest, injecting the venom of civilization into nature's peaceful repose.  Even so, the quiet thicket held onto its secrets primeval, secrets that were at once sacred and profane. 

        Jake followed a path through an archway of trees and toward the song.  The trail led him on a chaotic helix of twists and turns, the song ever drawing him onward.  A brook murmured accompaniment to the notes, the soft waters dancing over the stones in a gentle rhythm with the singer. 

        One last turn and the path opened into a clearing.  Moonlight stuttered through the forest canopy and shimmered off a still pool of water.  On the other side of the pond, opposite the trail’s end, the brook tumbled across a natural stone dam.  She reclined there, singing and brushing her hair, on a boulder next to the waterfall. 

        Her beauty took Jake's breath away.

        A diaphanous gown floated about her svelte form.  She lounged barefoot on the stone, her ebony tresses flowing across her shoulders.  Her brush stroked her hair in an elegant refrain to the soft adagio of her song.  Jake held his breath, enchanted by her wordless hymn and by her winsome allure.

        As if by some preternatural sense, she paused and looked about the clearing.  In the sudden silence, Jake mourned the absence of her song.  Her eyes lit on Jake and a smile graced her lips.  “Welcome, strange traveler,” she said.  Music infused her voice even when uttering so simple a greeting.  Her hands and brush stilled and her hair floated in an ethereal halo about her head.

        “Hello,” Jake's voice sounded crass and foul to his ears.

        “What brings you to my waterfall, stranger?” 

        “I heard you singing.  It was so beautiful.”  Jake brushed his hair out of his eyes and stood straighter.  “Please, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

        She smiled again and his heart quickened.  “Would you care to sing with me, stranger?”  She gestured to the mossy ground near where she sat.

        Jake circled the pond, breathless with anticipation.  “Oh, I couldn’t sing.  I’d spoil it.  But I’d love to hear you sing.”  He knelt on the grassy loam at her feet.  “Sing for me,” he whispered.

        A serene smile touched her lips and she again raised her voice in song.  Her wordless paean filled the glade with a wistful yearning.  Memories of generations past floated there with them, dancing on the waters and shimmering in the moonlight.  As she sang she held his hand and stroked his brow.  The blessings of peace and joy flowed from her touch, through his body, and into his soul.  Her song, so reverent and so natural, drew them ever closer, beguiling him.  He scarcely noticed as his drug-induced high faded, replaced by the ecstasy of her voice and the tenderness of her touch.

        He slipped off his running shoes and let his bare feet commune with the moist foliage and the soft loam.  He stretched out, immersed in her song, cherishing every note, while the blades of grass tickled his skin.  Soon, as if afloat, she sat by his side and gazed upon him, her hands soothing his broken soul.  When at last they kissed it was as though they became as one. Her hands held his head and her lips caressed his. Their tongues danced together, advancing and withdrawing in a moist and intimate pas de deux.

        His heart quickened and he rose on an elbow to embrace her, hungry for her touch.  He inhaled her sweet scent as her hair fell like a veil across his face.  A breathless thrill rushed through him when her hands slipped under his t-shirt and eased it over his head.  She leaned forward to kiss his throat and her breath warmed his neck.  Her lips moved lower to caress his chest.  She sang while she kissed him; her song filled his heart and he moaned in harmony.

        He lay back onto the soft earth and let her remove his running shorts .  She moistened a finger by touching it to her lips and then stroked his manhood.  His groans and her wordless croon filled the glade, jubilant now rather than melancholy.  At last, she sat astride him while her robes fluttered in the breezes and revealed the serene curves of body.  Her fingers guided him inside her and her warm moistness welcomed him.  The hard flame of his erection loosed the floods of her passion.  Their bodies twined together in counterpoints of hard and soft, fast and slow, desire and release.  The rhythm of their love pulsed from one soul to another in shared ecstasy that lasted forever, but not long enough.  At last Jake's body convulsed with the euphoria of his orgasm, his mind obliterated in an instant of pleasure that stretched to infinity. 

        It was unlike any time before for Jake, an exaltation of sensual delight and spiritual serenity.  In those most intimate moments he was grounded in her soul and lifted up by her grace.  The mountains of his addiction were made low and the valleys of his despair were made high.

        Afterwards he stroked her with a gentleness that was unnatural to him.  “When will I see you again?” he asked.

        “I shall be here by my waterfall and my pool, in my woods.”  Her voice filled with regret.  “But you will be like the others and forsake me.  They all forsake me in time.”  She looked away and her fingers played with the waterfall.

        “You're wrong!  As I live and breathe, I will love you forever! I swear it!”  At that enchanted moment, as with so many other enchanted moments long past, he was sincere.

        A barren smile, wistful and sad, toyed with her lips. “Ah yes, so I have heard before: a promise that every waking breath will be a testament to love.” 

        "Yes!  That's it exactly!"  Jake really did mean it, at least at that moment.

        She stood and picked up her clothes.  “So be it then, my love, so be it.”  She dressed and lounged once again on her boulder, gazing into her pool, brushing her hair and humming her song.

        He woke the next morning, naked and cold and alone by the waterfall and the woodland pool.  He called out for her, but she was gone.  He didn’t even know her name.  A fine drizzle misted through the trees.  He dressed and departed, his heart filled with longing and loss.

***

        Weeks passed.  At first Jake returned to the glade every night to get high and to look for the woman.  Then he returned just to get high.  Eventually he stopped visiting the glade at all.  It was peaceful and serene, to be sure, but she never reappeared.  The magic of the place had departed with her. 

        Chemicals provided the only remaining magic in Jake’s life.  They drained the strength from his muscles and sucked the breath from his soul.  His sleep became troubled, filled with night terrors and demons.

        “Jake, you look like shit.  Are you doing drugs again?”  His sister glared at him through the freshly cut flowers on the table.  Dishes and conversation from the other tables clattered about them. The soft contralto of Rachmaninoff's Vocalise drifted between the tables.  They were in the latest trendy restaurant, sitting in a crowded dining room with tiny works of art sculpted in sushi on their plates.

        Jake flushed.  “No.  You know I’m over that.”  The weight of his stash tugged at his sports coat.  He resisted the temptation to touch it.

        “Then you need to see a doctor.  You’ve lost weight, your eyes are all bloodshot, you look like a ghost.”  She fumbled at her maki with her chopsticks, mashing the little roll into a mess of rice and seafood.

        “Well, I have seen a doctor.  I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”  Maybe she’d leave him alone about the drugs if he told her about this.  “He says I have sleep apnea. You know what that is?”

        “That you snore?” She snorted and put the chopsticks down.  “Don’t they have any forks in this damned place?”  She looked around for a waiter.

        “It means that I stop breathing when I sleep.  It means that I wake up in order to start breathing again.  But it also means I never really get a good night’s sleep.”

        “So what’s he gonna do for you?”  She snagged a server.  “Waiter, can you bring me a fork?  I can’t use these damned chopsticks.”

        “Certainly, ma’am.  Would the gentleman like a fork too?”

        “No, I’m fine, thank you.”  Jake smiled at the waiter and demonstrated by deftly picking up a salmon roll and eating it.

        The waiter smiled and folded his hands before his chest, giving a polite bow of praise for Jake's expertise.  Jake saw the waiter's eyes lash across his torso, diagnosing in a flash all the telling little badges of addiction, pausing on the hidden cargo in his sport coat.  He knows, thought Jake, and flushed. 

        His sister was oblivious to this silent exchange.  “You’d think they’d give us forks automatically.  Sheesh.”  She sipped at her martini.  “So, what do they give you? Sleeping pills?”

        “No drugs.”  Jake thought about his stash again.  Sleeping pills and crack wouldn’t mix.  He wasn’t that crazy.  At least not yet.  “He gave me an oral appliance.  It’s like a retainer.  You put it in your mouth and it keeps your airway open.”

        “Not in my mouth, bud.  Does it work?”

        “Well, it hasn’t so far.  He said to give it time.”

        “Yeah.  Well, you still look like shit.”

        Dinners with his sister were always painful, and this one was more so than most.  Jake was glad when her cell phone rang.  She chattered for a while with her caller before folding her phone back up in her purse.

        “Geeze, Jake honey, I gotta go.  That was my aroma therapist.  She’s got an opening if I can get there in the next hour.  You know how it is!”  She looked with disdain at her unfinished meal.  “Can you be a dear and pick up the check?  Your trust fund doing all right?”  Their parents had left each of them a substantial trust fund.  Even with his drug habit, Jake would never run short of money.

        “Yeah, fine, don’t worry about it.”

        She stood and bent to give him a quick peck on the forehead.  “You take care of yourself, Jake honey.  You’re my only bro.  See ya!”  She rushed out before Jake could respond.

        Jake poked at his sushi, and then pressed his hand against his sport coat.  The pliant little mass reassured him.  He couldn’t check it out in here, but he knew he was running low. 

        The waiter brought the bill, glancing at his sister's unfinished dinner.  "Was everything all right, sir?"

        Jake avoided his knowing eyes.  "Everything was fine, thank you." 

        "Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?"

        Jake wanted drugs; he sensed this young man could help him if he just asked.  Instead he said, "No, it was wonderful, thank you."  He reached for his wallet and counted out the bills plus a generous tip.  He had plenty of cash.  After the dinner with his sister he really needed a nice, long high.  He’d call his regular dealer from his car. That was safer, more reliable.  Who knew what street drugs a random stranger might give him? 

        Outside the restaurant, breezes gusted through the pedestrian mall.  The potted trees in this tiny imitation forest swished in rhythm to the ancient dance of the earth and the wind.  Clouds raced across the night sky, portents of a storm to come.  Jake pulled his coat more tightly about himself and rushed to the parking lot.  Once in his car he dialed the number scrawled on the matchbook in his coat pocket.  His dealer gave him a new number each time they met, always for a throw-away cell phone.  He heard it ring.

        “What ya want?”  Her voice was flat and nasal.

        “This is Jake.  You know what I want.”

        “Oh yeah, Jake.  I got some great stuff for ya, Jake.  How many bags ya need?”  Jake knew he could rely on her.  He was a good customer, always cash in hand, never whiny or demanding.  She must value that.

        “Just enough for a day or two.  No reason to have too much on me.  A couple of bags should be enough.”

        “You betcha, no problem Jake baby.  You remember that park we met at a few weeks back?”

        Jake’s heart sank with the memory of that park, at the memory of the magic he had found and then lost there.  “Yeah, I remember.  Can’t we meet someplace else?”

        “Look, ya want the stuff or not?  We meet where I say.  So, how about it?”

        Jake hesitated.  What the hell.  “All right, fine.  When?”

        “Twenny minutes, in the parking lot.  Be there or be square.”  The phone went dead. 

        Twenty minutes later Jake lounged on the hood of his car in the dusty parking lot, smoking a joint.  Two of the street lamps were broken and Jake had parked in the dark void they formed.  An ancient VW van crawled into the lot.  The driver doused its headlights and it rolled to a stop by Jake.  The door opened and a short, wizened blond woman got out.  Her hair was tied in a frizzy pony tail and she wore flip-flops, pink hot pants, and a black halter top.  She carried a scruffy backpack by one strap.

        “Hey, Jake.”

        “Hey.”  It struck him that he didn’t know her name.

        “I got the stuff.”  She held up the pack. She shifted from one foot to another, as though unable to stand still. 

        Jake reached for his wallet.

        She held up her hand.  "Wait a minute." She rubbed her thumb and fingers together; her nails were unkempt and filthy.  “I been thinkin’, Jake.  How’d you like a special deal, a freebie?”  She leered at him while her hands fidgeted with her knapsack.  She jittered around him, looking him up and down.

        “What do you got in mind?” Jake didn’t really need a special deal, but he may as well see what she wanted.

        She reached out and stroked his cheek.  He reared back in surprise and she sneered at him.  “So, what? Ya think I’m not good enough for ya?” 

        “No, not that. I was just surprised, is all.”  Jake wondered what was going on.  Her pupils were pinholes.  He had never seen her high before.

        “Tell ya what Jake, ya can have your stash for free.  But ya gotta do somthin' for me.”

        Jake looked at the backpack.  He didn’t really have a backup dealer.  He’d pretty much have to do whatever she asked.  “Go on.”

        “All ya gotta do is make me come, Jake honey.  You’re a big strong boy.  Ya think ya can do that?”  She leered at him again and rubbed up against him.

        Jake felt simultaneously sickened and aroused.  His need was relentless and she was his only source.  He knew he would relax to the inevitable.  Why fight it?  I might even enjoy it. For sure I'll enjoy the fix. 

        She grabbed his crotch and smiled.  “I can tell yer ready, dude.  I like that.”  She looked around.  “I know just the place to go.  C’mon.” She jerked away from him and strode into the woods, following the path Jake had followed that night long ago.  Helpless, as though on a tether, he trailed after.

        She led him into the woods, past the picnic table, through the archway of trees, and down the twisted path.  She led him to the waterfall and the pool.  Wind rustled through the trees and thunder rumbled in the distance.  Flickers of lightning now and again cast fleeting shadows in the glade.  The storm that had threatened earlier now approached. 

        She dropped her knapsack and stood beckoning.  "Come to me, loverboy."  She stripped off her halter top and slipped out of her flip flops.  Jake watched in a daze, helpless, bound to her by a chemical leash, yet reluctant to profane this spot. 

        Not waiting for him to move, she launched herself at his body, groping him and tearing at his clothes.  Once again Jake found himself in a naked embrace in this glade. But this time his body conjoined with another's in a profane explosion of lust, not a transcendent hymn of love.  Once again Jake found himself bewitched.  But this time it was the promise of drug-induced ecstasy that cast its spell, not the ethereal promise of what might be.

        She straddled his naked body and snatched at his manhood, thrusting it into her depths.  Her cunt oozed with passion.  Her greasy fluids soaked Jake's crotch and mixed with his sweat.  She grunted and tossed her head, turning her frizzy hair into a blond explosion.  Her breasts flopped and her back arched as she lurched to her orgasm, dragging Jake along in a breathless rush of spent lust.  She clenched at him, and consumed him, and drained him.  As he slipped from her, she shook herself and sweat splattered onto his chest.

        "Well, loverboy, you done good."  She stood and looked at his naked body.  "You sure is pretty."  She jerked on her clothes, twisting the halter top over her head.  She saved her panties and hot pants for last.

        "Glad you liked it."  The edge of addiction scraped at his soul.  He needed to get high, to remember and to forget.  He reached for his sport coat, crumpled near where he lay, and pulled out his works.

        She pulled two baggies from her backpack and tossed them to Jake.  He reached for them but missed and they fell to one side.  "There's your stuff, lover boy. The new number's in the bags."  She blew him a kiss.  "Have fun!"  Then she was gone.

        Jake's hands shook as he assembled his works. He didn't bother to rise or to dress, so relentless was his need. Soon, soon the blessed vapors would infuse his soul.  He inhaled with a keen desperation.  The storm drew closer and the lightning flashed brighter. The distant thunder grew more clamorous.  The rocks crackled and popped as they fumed in the glass tube.  At last he sucked the vapors into his lungs, became one with them. 

        He laid back and listened to the murmur of the waters, the rustle of the leaves, and the grumble of the thunder, waiting.  Pebbles on the pathway bit into his bare shanks, and then the pain faded as the drug exploded inside him.  In a few short seconds his body thrummed with pleasure.  This was ecstasy, not the pale pleasures of food or drink or sleep.  This was better than anything, much better than sex.  This made him forget his lonely and useless life. This transformed his life to one long symphony that thrilled with sensation. 

        Then he heard her singing.

        His head spinning, he sat up and tried to focus.  There, on her perch near the waterfall, sat a blurry figure.  His ears buzzed, but still her song lilted.  He reached out, his hand shaking in its need.  "I'm here," he whispered.

        The song paused.  Winds fluttered through the trees and lightning growled.  Her hair floated in a halo about her face. "You have forsaken me.  You promised, yet you have forsaken me."

        "No. I came back but you weren't here."  His mind buzzed with the ecstasy of the drugs, but he longed for clarity.  She must understand.

        "Yes, you came back.  Your lover came with you, the same lover who now fogs your spirit and consumes your body, the lover you inhale.  I was here, as I have always been here. I hid from you those other times."  She tossed her head and her voice turned haughty.  "And tonight, tonight you brought another woman to my pool and to my waterfall.  You promised, yet you have forsaken me."

        Tears flowed down his cheeks.  He was so tired, so very tired.  "No, no, I was here. I wanted you.  She meant nothing."  He lay back down and rested his head on his arms.  He was so very tired.

        "You promised.  Every waking breath, you promised, would be a testament to your love."  Lightning cracked nearby and the rains started.  "But still you have forsaken me."

        Jake couldn't clear his mind.  There was something wrong.  Maybe his dealer had slipped him something. Maybe she had poisoned him, or maybe it was just bad street drugs.  He closed his eyes.  Fatigue swamped his mind and he could barely think or feel.  There was something important he must do.  What was it?

        She looked at him in sorrow and in loathing.  "Verily, I say unto you, I curse you now.  If your every waking breath is a testament to your love, then may you forget how to breathe when next you sleep." 

        Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids as his awareness faded to nothingness.  She began to sing again.  The song was so beautiful, so forlorn, so wistful and so full of yearning.  The song was without words, but at last Jake understood.  The song promised joy and love and peace everlasting.  The lady of the lake sang the song of the ages. 

        Jake couldn’t help himself.  He drifted into the gentle arms of sleep.  The last waking sound he heard was the song.  It was so beautiful it took his breath away.