The Fair Exchange - Part 1

Her memory pounded in my head like a feeling trying to drag me backward in time, the remembered closeness of her embrace and the wet press of her lips on mine surprising me with its intensity.

After Rita pulled away and gazed questioningly in my eyes, I bent forward and mashed my lips against hers, giggling students piling into the surrounding bus seats to watch as we traded eight or nine kisses in rapid succession.

For a longtime my friends would shriek “Georgie Porgie puddin’ and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry” whenever Rita approached me. I liked Rita, but not enough to endure their ridicule.

But she never stopped loving me, the longing in her eyes never dimming as we aged. Although she physically matured to a beautiful woman, I was more afraid than romantically inclined toward her. Her friends often whispered of the Vodou dolls and charms that she carried in her purse and the price paid by those foolish enough to cross her.

I had a crush on the most popular girl in school and convinced myself that she would gladly be mine if only I had the courage to claim her. The first time Gretchen smiled at me as we met in passing her natural friendliness caused me to read into the encounter feelings on her part that existed only in my imagination. During the following weeks, I felt an airy lightness whenever she looked my way. At least till I discovered her boyfriend was Joey.

It seemed at the time like the worst thing that could possibly happen. But as the weeks passed, my obsession with Gretchen continued to grow till I was desperate enough to approach Rita for the first time since we traded kisses as children. She agreed to give me a Vodou love charm if I met her at the Pioneer’s Cemetery on All Hallows Eve.

Meeting me at the gate, Rita intertwined her fingers in mine as we walked together through the tombstones, something defying logic transpiring when we embraced, the unexpected desire for a renewal of her kisses threatening to push Gretchen from my heart.

If only….

That night took on a life all its own in consequence, echoing through the decades like a self untimely born.

When Rita asked me “What would you do to win Gretchen’s love?” instead of kissing her I whispered “Anything,” my answer jerking her head back in anger.

A single word sealed my fate.

A moment later she coldly pulled a round box from her blouse and removed the top, the memory of her blowing its powdery contents into my face causing the prickling of fear to shudder across my skin, the desire to take my former answer back overwhelming me with almost forgotten alarm.

The powder numbed my exposed skin almost instantly. Yelling in surprise, I compounded its effects by trying to rub it from my eyes, the warm feelings I had experienced for her a few seconds before suddenly overcome by betrayal, adrenaline, and terror. Unfortunately, rubbing my eyes blurred my vision into blindness, and I cried out – “I can’t see!” as Rita tackled me with a snarl, the two of us tumbling to the ground in a tangle of flailing limbs. Easily swatting my arms away, she jerked my jeans past my hips, my hands too numb from the powder to hold onto my retreating waistband. Wordlessly stripping off my shirt, underwear, and then her dress, she straddled me, her bare buttocks clammy with the sweat of her exertion and the cold.

With a tremendous effort I pushed her off, but as I began to stand, she pulled me down and scrambled onto my stomach. Pressing my arms to the ground she hissed - “Don’t fight the rootwork – Jamie – the time for doin’ good was before midnight. It’s after midnight now.” Moments later my consciousness began to slip away, the gentle pressure of her lips on mine the last thing I remembered before succumbing to the darkness.

She kissed me too late.

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The Fair Exchange - Part 2