Doc's Place

Chapter 19 | Part 8

Wednesday, October 17, 1984

The physical therapist arrives shortly after five. We move to the workout room so she can watch as I move through mobility and flexibility exercises. When we finish, she invites me to sit facing her so we can talk.

"First, let me say I'm impressed," she says. "You and Soji obviously exercised exactly as instructed."

Soji steps in quietly and sits facing us.

She repeats her last statement, and then continues, "However, the gunshot wound to your shoulder did cause considerable damage to tissue. Expect limited use for a year as you build strength, Jill."

"Why does recovery take so long?"

"You're thirty-five, dear," she says, "Not twenty-five. Be grateful you are not ten or twenty years older. I would be telling you to get used to operating at ninety percent or less for the rest of your life. As is, you will recover full strength but it will take time."

"Any change to this routine?"

"No, but you should continue to exercise as much as you can bear. Now, how is the pain?"

Tell her what I told the doctor: a dull ache with occasional agony on sudden moves.

"What are you taking?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Why?"

"The meds make me sleep all the time."

"Yes, but we can adjust that. Does the pain cause irritability or sleeplessness?"

"I sleep fine," I tell her and glance at Soji.

"She's no more irritable than usual," says Soji.

Frown at him but she asks, "Do you ever feel sad or disconnected from friends and family?"

"No."

"Hmm. Listen, Jill, pain is no small matter you can ignore for months on end. It is something you should treat with pain meds."

"No."

"Well, you can't just ignore this much pain over an extended period."

"Yes I can."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes I do."

She glances at Soji, who shrugs. Looking at me steadily, she asks, "Are you always this stubborn?"

Soji grunts. "You haven't seen her stubborn yet, believe me."

"My point is that living with pain nowadays is unnecessary, Jill," she says. "Modern medicine has provides us with numerous alternatives for relief that we should explore."

"Are we finished?"

"Please don't become impatient. Pain is a signal from your body that all is not well. How do you intend to cope with this pain if you don't manage it through medication?"

"Ignore it."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

She pauses, sighing in frustration. "I can't help you if you won't let me."

"So we are finished, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are, although I wish you would reconsider. Is the doctor upset with you for ignoring his advice about managing your pain?"

"I think so."

She lifts her hands in a shrug, returns them to her rest on her thighs and then stands effortlessly. Soji and I rise to our feet with her. "Please call any time, Jill."

"Thank you."

We escort her out, and I turn to Soji, "No more irritable than usual?"

"And stubborn, more stubborn than irritable," he says, walking into the kitchen, where he begins preparing dinner.

"It's your opinion."

"Ask anyone." "Ask anyone what?" asks Lloyd who walks in and begins washing her hands.

"Am I stubborn or. . . ."

"You're stubborn," she says.

"You didn't hear the alternative."

"Obstinate?"

Sara walks in. "Who are you talking about, Jill? I'd say just plain stubborn is the word, myself."

Soji winks at me.

"Am I not patient and reasonable? I listen to others' views."

"That's true," says Lloyd, washing vegetables.

"No one said you were impatient," says Sara, walking down the hall. "I'm in the shower."

"So?"

"So you listen to others' views and then you tell them how it's going to be," says Lloyd. She picks up the telephone, which is ringing. "Tony for you, Jill."

"I'll take it in the study." Walk back to Sara's room and tap on the door.

She opens it, stark naked.

"Tony's on the phone. Listen in?"

"Absolutely." She follows me into the study, as unconcerned about her nudity as a child.

Close the door and push the speaker button on the telephone. "Yo Tony, Jill and Sara here."

"It's done. Don has them in custody with their extortion threats on tape."

"Was anyone in danger?" asks Sara.

"Naw. Two kids and pretty stupid ones at that. No weapons or plans, just walk in and demand money for protection—all on tape. The detectives will break them down in separate rooms, find out how they're connected and to whom. Haven't lawyered up yet."

Standing next to Sara and smelling her aroma is driving me crazy. Sit against the edge of the desk, which is a mistake because her presence fills my senses.

"Well done, Tony," says Sara. "Anything you want me to do?"

"Call Mei. Keep security arrangements on her and Le. This is no time to get lazy."

"Will do."

Sara presses the button to disconnect and looks at me. "Much ado about nothing so far." She picks up the receiver and dials a number. "Hello Mei. It's Sara. Tony called. Yes, everything is fine. The boys are in custody for questioning." She listens. "Too early for charges yet, Mei, and felony extortion is extreme until parents and lawyers are involved. This is a process. Give it time." She listens again. "Mei, use your round-the-clock protection. Tell Le." She listens. "Okay, see you tomorrow." She replaces the receiver.

This close, her eyes fill my universe. I can neither move nor speak.

Sara places one arm about my neck and stands between my knees. "Close your eyes," she whispers. She places one hand in my hair, tilts my head back and softly says, "You need a long, slow kiss from a naked woman." She lowers her lips to mine and we kiss. Submit, my arms hanging helplessly. The seconds of my life drift by, each filled with profound pleasure. Feel her lips move, lightly kissing my face, my nose, my eyelids. Hear her voice asking, "Where are you?"

Feel a smile on my lips. Even though I am in a garden with young girls, I am also in the . . . "Here and now. This feeling, it's intense."

"What do you want?"

"Another kiss." Several seconds later, I gasp when she releases me. "That," I tell her, "is an addicting experience." "So is showering and eating," she says, stepping back. "I'll be out in a bit." She is gone.

Time passes. I don't know how much. Lloyd stands at the door. "Tony say everything's alright?"

"Yeah," I say, turning to look at her. "Security stays tight."

"Of course." She looks at me. "Jill?" When I look at her, she says, "You look dangerous and . . . predatory. You thrive on adversity, don't you?"

Sara, dressed in a long tee shirt, appears beside Lloyd, slides an arm around her waist and looks at me. "Like seeing a mountain lion or a wolf in the wild," she says. "It's thrilling to see but at the same time, scary."

"Mm, you smell good," says Lloyd, sniffing Sara's wet hair. She looks at me. "Anybody hungry?"

Stand and approach them, sliding my arms about their shoulders. "Ravenous."

Later, Sara sits on the couch, her arms about Lloyd and Soji, flashing beavers since she's naked under that long tee shirt. We sip red wine and talk about Soji's and Sara's graduate work, my thesis progress and Lloyd's plans to pursue a graduate degree. By the time Soji and Lloyd excuse themselves for the evening, Sara's tee shirt is up around her waist.

During our conversation, I take time to think about this behavior. Sara exposes herself frequently, which keeps me thinking about having sex, as she no doubt intends. Lloyd probably finds Sara's behavior innocent and charming. The effect on Soji is complicated because Soji is male and an experienced masseur. For years, he has massaged my naked body any number of times so I can relax and sleep. During that time, he has never sported an erection, let alone made advancements. Yet, he fathered children before his wife died and keeps Lloyd breathless and happy today. I simply do not know what Soji thinks.

In the hot tub, separated by the steaming water, I ask her. "Sara, Kevin Sark told me about the senior partner you put in traction a month or so ago. How did that play?"

"I wondered if you knew about that," she says, flicking a jet of water at my stomach. "We were working when he put his hand on my ass and told me to get naked and lay on the couch." She stands and steps out, steam rising from her body as she picks up a towel and begins to pat dry.

"How did you respond?"

She wraps the towel about her waist and picks up another, holding it out to me. "If I had wanted this guy's advances, I would have hauled his ass to a hotel but I didn't want that. Told him I was not interested and to remove his hand. He tried to force me so I hurt him."

Step out and stand still as she pats me gently with the towel. "Kevin implied that this guy had raped women at the office before."

"I've heard that as well. To answer your next question, I encouraged advances from others at the office. In both cases, it was after hours and off premises."

"Why did you come to me last night?"

She drapes the towel over my shoulders and kneels, removing her towel to wipe my feet. "The force of your will combines with your physical and mental self-control to form a pungent aphrodisiac, as do your wealth and power. You are irresistible." Looking up at me, she sets her towel aside and says, "I would throw myself naked at your feet to attract your attention."

"And what would you do there?"

She bends to kiss my feet, my ankles. Rising, she kisses my calves, behind my knees. She continues to kiss me until she is facing me once more, on her feet. "Tempt you. Beg you to take me to your bed."

An hour later, we're resting in my bed when she asks, "You and Ume were intimate until she met Marlon?"

Nod and say, "I brought Marlon home. He asked about Ume, who revealed that the attraction was mutual. They've been in love for more than ten years now."

"How did you react, Jill?"

"I was happy for them. I still am." After a while, I begin to doze when I hear Sara whisper, "I love it here, Jill." Intend to respond but I'm running through timber, my senses full of pungent impressions.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

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Doc's Place Chat
© 2008, Michel Grover.
Chapter 19 | Part 8
Late Autumn 2010

Lucia :

Mic has posted in the left frame paragraphs from Doc's Place, one of his copyrighted stories. I'm moderating chat here in the right frame. I post every day, but I don't post everything. I have formed a secondary group from which I may also post comments.

Maria :

This story part is quite revealing of Jill's nature—especially her self control regarding pain and her complete lack of it regarding Sara's affections. Personally, I envy Jill her native ability to live in and savor the moment. Jill never loses control in her discussion about her own pain, but she utterly loses her self in Sara's kisses.

Suze :

What's this garden with young girls Jill finds herself in when she gets lost in Sara's kiss? Is it imaginary or is it some place Jill remembers?

Steph :

Jill brought it up a couple of years ago in dpc2:4. I had just told the group how recalling sex with Jill helped me relax and feel safe. Here's what Jill said: "For all of you women, here is a short but true story. Remember when you were a little girl with dreams of playing, dancing and singing with other girls in frocks on a warm, sunny day. You are in an orchard, a garden or a walled park. As you and the other girls are playing without a care, you notice a woman standing, relaxed, confident and alert, looking about, as if guarding you and the girls. Don't look at her or even think about her, just enjoy the fun and the day."

Amalie :

Of course I remember, Stephanie. After she told us that, I asked Jill if she had ever prayed. A short while later with Raj's help, I first told all of you about my cloud of lights. I was so concerned with my own little world that I forgot to ask, so I'll ask now. Where is that garden and who are the girls? Does anyone have any educated guesses?

Lucia :

My guess is that it is an imaginary garden, or perhaps a glorified garden that Jill has enhanced from memory to represent this idyllic moment where little girls dance and sing, safe and carefree.

Maria :

It sounds beautiful, Sweetie.

Lucia :

It is beautiful but it's also sad, Mom. It represents a moment or perhaps several from Jill's 14th year—perhaps a lovely summer or autumn day on Susan's ranch in Montana—when Jill was still innocent, still a hopeful girl.

A garden with children or child-like people living an idyllic existence is a common theme in literature. I'm certain that Jill has read the first stanza from Burnt Norton in T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets so many times that she has memorized it. You'll see what I mean when you read the lines:

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.
So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,
Along the empty alley, into the box circle,
To look down into the drained pool.
Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.
Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

For Jill, "time is unredeemable." Her repeated rapes that January night just before her 15th birthday are an unchangeable fact, as are her subsequent schemes to commit and repeat brutally violent acts.

Jill's young girl appears whenever Jill is about to perform some harsh or horrible act. Eliot's passage accounts for the young girl, as in the lines:

What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
The girl is always with Jill, "a perpetual possibility." The passage also accounts for Jill's garden, lifted straight out of Burnt Norton:

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden.

Now, let's follow the children into the garden, where they play, happily and safely in the world of Jill's childhood, her first world:

Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.

There, in the garden, we see the children dancing to music only they can hear. Can you see them? Aren't they beautiful? See the little girls dancing in their summer frocks, so dainty, so innocent. It almost rips your heart out to see them, so happy and safe.

There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.

In case you wonder if Jill really sees her self in the garden with the children, the stanzas offer proof: she sees her own reflection in a pool filled, not with water, but with light. Do you see Jill's face in the dazzling reflection, the children behind her?

So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,
Along the empty alley, into the box circle,
To look down into the drained pool.
Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.

No, this is only Jill's imagination. The children, as "excitedly, containing laughter" as they are, are not real. Oh, but. . . .

Wait.

Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.

What if the children are real? What if the children are our adorable Amalie, our lovely Lupita and our beloved Benny? Do not these young people, who represent the future of our existence, deserve a chance to play, to dance, to laugh in the sun-filled garden? Of course they do, and that is reality for you, isn't it, Jill? You may not have had a chance to grow up from childhood to adulthood, but you swore that you will make a world—a garden—safe for them, didn't you?

This is what motivates Jill, my friends. This is what wakes her up early in the morning and forces her into full alert each and every day of her existence. This is her purpose, the words burned into her brain from Eliot's refrain in Burnt Norton:

Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

Amalie :

Is this true, Jill? Is Lucia right, about T. S. Eliot's stanzas and their meaning to you?

Jill :

Yes

Amalie :

This is horrifying and fascinating, Jill. You have built your entire life around providing a future for humanity by assuring the future of specific individuals—Lupita, Benny and me included. Since when have you been doing this, Jill?

Jill :

1972

Avani :

Forgive me, but Amalie is correct. Lucia's analysis is so penetrating and, according to Jill, apparently so accurate that it burns my heart, making it difficult for me to breathe. In 1972, Jill was twenty-four and serving as a military intelligence analyst in Japan. The rapes had occurred less than 10yrs before, and so the brutality and horror were still fresh in her memory.

We already know that Jill had been hunting and killing rapists for years, especially as each January approached. I'm trying to imagine this slim, young girl that winter of 1971-1972, walking through the streets of Misawa, Japan. She sees something, some happy children perhaps, and suddenly finds herself blinded with an emotional intensity that completely overcomes her senses, leaving her stunned with a vision so clear, rare and singular that, in practical terms, she never recovers.

We think we know Jill, and I suppose in small part, we do, but this experience is the equivalent of a rebirth. How can we say we begin to understand this woman when we know so little about emotional experiences such as this?

Amalie :

Oh Lucia, all of us owe you a debt for your analysis of T. S. Eliot's garden as a metaphor for Jill's garden. As I read your words, I found myself weeping with joy at the vision of the children and sadness at the brutal rapes and subsequent loss of Jill's childhood. You are a treasure, my dear friend.

Lucia :

Back atcha, girl.

Doug :

So much for Amalie thinking of Lucia as an enemy, Benny. You blew that call.

Benny :

Ya think?

Maria :

Amalie said this is fascinating and I agree. Mic, are we getting the full picture here or is Jill's garden vision more complex?

Mic :

Not only is `Jill's garden vision,' as you call it, multi-dimensional and multi-layered, but also it is a vision that Jill has been visiting for almost four decades, Maria. That vision is as much a part of her life and daily experience as any.

Doug :

This vision is also another example of mysticism in Jill's literal life.

Mic :

I suppose so, as long as you understand that her vision is as real to Jill as each of her experiences is real.

Cyril :

I'll tell you what is fascinating. Lloyd walks in, sees Jill immediately after she has visited that garden and says Jill looks dangerous. A moment later, Sara walks in and confirms Lloyd's impression. Seeing Jill is like seeing a mountain lion or wolf in the wild—thrilling but scary.

Maria :

Interesting choice of animals since Jill's subconscious sees her self as both predators. Is Sara falling in love with Jill or is she falling in love with her new life at Pere and in Nevada?

Cyril :

The latter: Sara is too much of a realist to fall in love with Jill. Although Sara loves Jill, she is not in love with Jill, which would be pretty much a waste of time and energy. Ask Bruno. As a former marine, a former detective and now a pimp, Bruno is a realist who is in love with Jill, for all the good it has done him. His broken heart doesn't seem to bother him much though.

Les :

Pimping out a steady stream of gorgeous, willing women probably helps even an old guy like Bruno get over any lingering effects of a broken heart.