The Meeting Chapter Four The Aftermath
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ControlPart 5: Aftermath free porn video
The doctor wants to talk to Geoffrey, but Geoffrey is flickering in and out. He can't follow the conversation. The doc is looking down at him. Geoff looks around and finds he is in bed with Anne, and then he remembers. The doctor talks. Geoff is answering. They've been conversing, haven't they? He tries to follow it, to reconstruct it. What have they said?
She's had insults to several systems. Whatever that means. We think her liver function will improve on its own. You think? It should. She's pretty well re-hydrated now, and we'll get her electrolytes balanced pretty soon. That should help her heart rhythm. Should? It should. There doesn't seem to be any permanent damage to her limbs, though an orthopedist needs to have a look at her shoulders. That's good, I guess. And the antibiotics should clear up her pneumonia and the infections in her lesions. Lesions? Her burns and cuts. Some of them are infected. We decided against giving her a transfusion for her anemia. Why? She should improve with medication and diet. I see. Two things we have to watch are her kidney function and her heart.
"Wait a minute! I thought you said the electrolytes would clear up her heart."
"Well, yes, but there may be damage. We can't tell yet."
"And her kidneys?"
"We'll have to see how much they improve. She might be fine."
She might be fine. Geoffrey wakes up completely and thinks about that for awhile.
Geoffrey has hardly left Anne's side. He hasn't had a choice. She held onto him through everything last night, even her x-rays. He couldn't let go of her hand to change positions without her getting agitated. He couldn't go to the bathroom until they gave her something to help her sleep, and when he got back she was rolling in a nightmare. He leaned down to her. "I'm here, Annie. It's okay. You're safe." She opened her eyes barely enough to see him, sighed "Geoffy," and faded back out.
Besides him, her room is filled with machines and charts and blinking lights, metal tubes and a glass wall to the main ICU staff area. Everyone who passes looks in at them. Staff come and go. Security sits just outside the door. During the night Geoff had tried to stay awake while waiting for all the tests. Someone would address him and he'd jerk out of a velvet sleep. He had a passing thought that he should call someone to cancel his classes, but who cares?
The doctors finished with Anne around three a.m. When they left, Geoff pushed a green vinyl chair right up against the bed, blocking one of the monitors, and held her hand through the safety bars. He woke an hour later to see her staring down at him, and for the first time he knew she was awake and aware and back in the world. She was looking at him with the saddest expression he had ever seen.
"I hurt you and left you and you came for me." She couldn't continue. She cried with gulps and sobs.
"Annie. Annie."
Geoffrey stood and leaned over her, and as he did the world spun and he had to hold the bed rail. The world spun and spun, then merely rocked, then only trembled. Geoffrey put his mouth to Anne's temple. "Annie, Annie, it's okay. Please don't be sad." Her hair was clean. It smelled of shampoo. When did they have time to wash her? How did he miss it? The world twirled around Anne's temple, around the fine hair and the smell of shampoo.
"You should have let me die!" Her crying changed to coughs, and in a minute a nurse came in to give her something.
Anne drifted back to sleep but kept jolting awake. If Geoffrey sat completely still the room would stop floating, but Anne couldn't stop jumping, and every time he had to stroke her and whisper and put his cheek on her. Finally he slipped off his shoes and crawled onto the bed, under her IV line, and held her. No one was going to stop him. He fell asleep. When she'd kick and twist he'd simply hold her and say something, and they'd glide back under together. Then, during the night, Victor was leaning against the far wall, holding a cigarette in a European fashion, but when Geoffrey sat up Victor transformed himself into some sort of medical apparatus covered with a gray tarp. Satan! Geoff had to check to make sure he hadn't accidentally jerked out the IV tube.
Later he woke snuggling Anne in a spoons position, with his hand on her hip, coming out of a dream in which they were fucking. He was completely erect and moving his penis up and down against her. He stopped. He thought she couldn't possibly ever want sex again.
They were both asleep when the chief attending physician came in to give his morning report a few minutes ago. Behind him Geoffrey can see the morning nurse, smiling like the Mona Lisa and touching a finger to her lips. Annie sleeps through the whole thing. Someone put an oxygen mask on her during the night, and Geoff slept through it. What if Satan had sneaked in?
She might be fine.
Anne probably doesn't need so much time in ICU, but the mayor has made the call. "America's Most Wanted" started the ball rolling and now the case dominates the cable networks. It probably will for a few weeks, until some six-year-old shoots his father in Wyoming. For now it's Anne the celebrity, Anne the victim, Anne of the black box. The tabloids can't get enough of her. The mayor isn't going to let anything happen to her. At least the media are kept away from her floor, and the city picks up the tab.
On the second day, Geoff looks up at a TV in the cafeteria and there they are, videotapes of the basement and the box, along with edited footage from the Web site archives. It's a cable news talk show. The two hosts are supposed to represent the left and the right. Today they agree the nation needs new laws and a crackdown on Internet smut. The one from the right blames the Clinton administration for a breakdown in sexual morality.
Contributions from women's advocacy groups pour in. Cost isn't going to be a problem. The FBI doesn't make a big case of it, since after all no one was killed, but at least Victor is now a Federal fugitive. Photos of Victor are plastered everywhere, with the usual information on what numbers to call.
The third day.
They're edging down the hall toward the elevators. The doctors want Anne to walk but she's awfully weak, so they go slowly, she still swaying a little on those spindly legs. Geoffrey holds the wheeled IV bag cart to one side, the tube crossing behind his back. He pulls it along while his other arm is around her waist, supporting her and holding her to him. When they pass the nurses' station one nurse whispers to the other, "They're so sweet together," before turning back to the mayor's latest press conference on CNN.
Geoff is telling Anne something. Some little thing. "You promise to eat something for me, right Annie?" She usually won't speak, not since the first night. Maybe she'll utter a word or two almost under her breath, in a monotone, but that's it. She'll talk to Geoff when they're alone. Now they murmur almost conspiratorially. Anne seems to be agreeing to try to eat. Then out of the blue she stops walking and begins to cry. She doesn't try to hide it, just stands there with tears flowing down her face, making panting little high-pitched sobs. Geoff turns to her and she puts her face to his chest. He touches his free hand to her head.
After a few minutes she's better. She looks up at him and puts fingers to his cheek and kisses him, then they walk some more.
Long before they get back to her room Anne is winded and covered in a fine, itchy sweat. Geoff helps her to the bed and looks at her, wondering about the kiss. Anne speaks a whole sentence, "Geoff, don't look at me like that."
"What? Like what?"
"You know." She looks away.
"Annie?"
"I'm so ashamed." She's still looking away. Her eyes are watery but there are no more tears.
"Oh. Well, should I keep my eyes closed?" He closes his eyes and walks toward her and almost falls when he stumbles against a rack. "Oh, shit. Damn!" Anne laughs the first part of a tiny laugh but catches herself and puts a hand to her mouth.
"It's just that..." She sighs. "I wish I could undo everything." She's silent for maybe ten seconds. "I know you have things you have to do." Silence again. Geoff sits down to wait her out. "You don't have to stay with me anymore. My mother can take care of me."
Geoffrey looks at her but doesn't answer. Finally he rises and goes through the ritual of getting the room ready for her nap. He closes the curtain and shuts the door. He turns out the overhead light. He refills her drink canister with fresh juice. He pulls up her covers and kisses her on the forehead. Then, finally, "Would you like me to leave?" Anne starts crying again.
"Annie. Annie. If you're going to cry at everything I say, I'll have to be mute." She wipes her eyes and tries to smile. "So here's the deal, Annie Fanny. I'm not going to try to take over your life. You know I'm not like that. When you tell me it's time for me to leave, I'm gone, and I'll be happy because you're better. But if you're saying that just because you think you're a burden, or you don't deserve help, or whatever... well, rethink it. I'm happy doing this."
You'll never know how long I spent rehearsing parts of that spiel, Anne. Did I get the lighthearted tone right?
She makes herself not cry any more. "Thank you Geoffy. I'd like it. If you stayed with me awhile longer. Really."
He leans to kiss her on the forehead again. A brotherly kiss, or a fatherly one. Whatever. When he leans the room shifts. Oh, no. Here comes another one, another wave rolling over him and pulling him out to sea. So many of them. He sits down in the green vinyl chair to help it pass, while she rests, and he nods off after a few minutes but wakes feeling Anne's hand moving through his hair. "Come on up, Geoffy. You'll be more comfortable up here." On the bed, he's on his back and she curls against him, her head on his arm, and he is sound asleep in seconds. Anne lies perfectly still, looking at him. Occasionally she touches him while he sleeps. His chest. His cheek. He snores a little, but in a minute it changes to deep, regular breathing, almost as though he were breathing in sighs. When her mother comes in during visiting hours, Anne puts a finger to her lips to make her be quiet.
"I'd like to explore your feelings when you thought you'd always be his prisoner."
The therapist won't let go. Anne looks at Geoffrey. "It's okay, Annie. Tell her." She squeezes his hand harder and looks down. She won't look directly at the therapist, who obviously wishes Anne would see her alone.
That time finally comes, though, when Geoffrey tells Anne he'll be outside while she talks with the therapist. Anne doesn't say two words.
"Do you not want to talk about Mr. Bruno?" asks the therapist, and Anne shakes her head, not looking up. "Is there anything you'd feel comfortable talking about?"
There's a long silence. The therapist neither fidgets nor looks away. Finally Anne says it, but in voice so quiet the therapist has to lean forward to hear her.
"Geoffrey."
"Why?" More silence. The therapist waits again.
"I have to make him leave. But I don't want to."
"Why is that?" Time to cry again, Annie.
The therapist gets Geoffrey alone to ask him about Anne. He asks her back, "What do you want to know?"
"You've gone above and beyond the call of duty."
"Well she's needed me."
"She told me about leaving you. For Mr. Bruno. So I have to wonder what your motives are?"
Oh shit. She's no dummy, this therapist.
"Yeah. That. Okay. I know what you're getting at. I guess it shows. This is confidential, isn't it? Okay. Well the fact is I never got over her. But I can't tell her that. I know it's over. I'm afraid she'll feel she has to be nice to me because I'm her hero. You know. Out of gratitude. So I don't know what to do. Do you have any suggestions?"
"I think we three need to have a talk together."
It isn't that easy.
Saving Anne turned out to be easy. Bringing her home is easy. Nothing else is.
At home, Anne follows Geoffrey around the house. When he gets the newspaper she's at the window watching him, as intently as do the paparazzi who seem to be camped out there. They always try to goad him into making a statement. They want photos of the sex victim, not Geoff, but he'll have to do unless she gets too close to the window. They finally give up when the story wanes, but Anne doesn't give up wanting Geoff to be in sight. When he mows the grass she sits in the rocking chair with a book in her lap and looks out at the lawn.
At first she has to ride to the university with him. While he lectures she sits in the back row, in a corner, eyes down so she doesn't have to acknowledge anyone. The first day a young woman said hello and Anne looked down at her desk and made a shy smile but didn't answer. Everyone knows she's the girl in the box, and some of the guys look at her, but there aren't any problems.
It's the same inside the house. If Geoff steps out of the den to go on-line while she's watching something on TV, in a moment she'll have drifted to the doorway. He won't even hear her, but when he looks up she'll be standing patiently, hovering at a spot where she can see him. He rises and walks over to envelope her in his arms and kiss her. "Do you want me to come back to the den?" He nuzzles her hair.
She plays with the top button on his shirt, looking at it instead of at his face. "Mm-hmm." She says it in a little girl tone. He teases, "You'll let me go to the bathroom alone, won't you?" and she answers "I guess," still playing with the button. But she sounds serious.
Nothing is easy. Anne needs a night light. She has to touch Geoff while she's going to sleep, and he practices lying still so it'll be easier for her. She stirs when he gets up during the night. She wakes two, sometimes three times a night and sits up in bed, trying not to yell, her heart thundering. Geoffrey holds her and talks to her. "I'm here Anne. I'll always be here. Nothing will ever hurt you."
He's careful not to be sexual. He pulls her back down and kisses her, her ear, her neck, her mouth, murmuring in between, running his mouth over her temple, always going back to that fine hair that flies away. "There, there, Annie. My girl." They kiss while he holds and caresses and comforts her. Somehow they shift from lips to tongues, sucking and caressing each other's tongue. They always do, though he doesn't plan it. Geoffrey twists his body away so she won't notice his erection. He wants her. Oh Jesu, joy of man's desiring! Oh Jesus! Oh Yeshua Ben David! Oh God, I want to fuck her! He stops using his tongue and rubs a cheek over hers and murmurs something again, and then she nests against him and goes back to sleep while he waits for his penis to shrink.
If I were Victor I could make her want it. I'd just turn her on. It would be easy. I'd snap my fingers or tie her to the bed and she'd beg for it. Oh shut the fuck up. You aren't Victor and you don't want to be. Yes I do, in that one way.
He rises and walks to the guest bedroom to turn on the computer, where he goes to the files he wants, hidden in a folder within another folder inside a main folder. He plays the orgasm video that shows her flower opening and closing and he caresses his penis through his underwear. He pulls them down and runs his thumb up, down, around the head of his penis, letting it get slippery, petting himself while he watches orgasm videos. When he's about to come he pulls up his shirt and pants while he spurts onto his chest and belly. Afterward he duck-walks into the bathroom, holding his pants out and his shirt up, to clean himself off. Before he gets back to bed Anne is tossing again.
"Annie. Annie. It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."
When they first go outside to walk, she's afraid the whole time. It's early autumn, breezy and clear. The first leaves run along the street. It's beautiful and she can't wait to finish and get back inside the house. When they go out by car she has to be in by sunset. She can't stand dark places like theaters. She sees Victor everywhere.
It is a long time before Anne can bring herself to see any of her friends. The whole time Jane is visiting, she and Anne clutch each others' hands and cry together. At one point Jane says, "You know, it could just as easily have been Maureen or me." Geoff wonders if Jane has watched any of the orgasm videos, and if she's a little jealous. He regrets it almost instantly, though Anne is more available on the Web than Pamela Anderson. Anyone with a credit card can see her.
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