Chapter 15
Slowly, sweetly, the world reassembled itself. The consciousness of sound and light, of gravity and existence returned to her, and with it came the rich satisfying realization that she was a woman.
She had been touched. Somewhere a gate had opened and poured forth something she had never known was there. Her prison had been broken, the citadel bad crumbled, she was transformed.
I am a woman, Fern thought.
She felt the weight of the man's body against her and clutched him to her.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you, thank you."
His lips kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her nose her brow. The soft brush of his mouth on her face made her tremble.
It has happened, she thought. He has erased it all-the men in the car, Benny, the boy-everything. All the pain and failure are behind me. He has made a woman of me and nothing can ever take that from me now.
His lips found her own and they kissed gently.
So quiet, she thought. So sweet. So unhurried and relaxed. To feel the weight of a man on you, to feel the aches of pleasure where he has loved you, to feel his lips moving against yours, his tongue curling against your own-what could be more perfect than that?
Fern felt a part of the world for the first time in her life. She was no longer an outcast. She had joined the race at last-she was a member of mankind.
She could feel the doors to her past closing behind her. Never again would she feel the hatred that had soured her life; never again would she look upon a woman and desire her. The dark years of loneliness and pain were behind her forever. She was a woman.
How wonderful it is to be a woman, she thought. What a great and glorious thing to know what you are and what you can do-to know the pleasure and the happiness that can come to a woman.
Now that the love-making was ended. Fern felt a different stirring-a consciousness of a whole of which pleasure was only apart. She had never thought before of the potential that might exist between two people. It had never occurred to her that two human beings might share anything so rewarding. And now that the release was past, she felt a new desire coming to take its place-a yearning to give and receive something she could not name, a wish to share with someone, to open her heart and loose its secrets, to air out her soul and open the windows of her mind to a person who could see and forgive. She felt a deep need to share her life with someone-completely, utterly, with nothing held back, nothing diluted.
The desire shook her and she clutched the man to her tightly.
"Don't leave me," she said.
His body stirred against hers. She could feel his heart beating against her breasts.
"Was it good?" he asked, his breath warm against her cheek.
She rolled her head on the pillow and moved her body under him. "Yes," she said. "Oh, yes." She opened her eyes and saw his face in the dim light from the window. "Was it good for you?" she asked.
He smiled down at her. His face had an open, unrestrained expression on it that was altogether new to her. "Y'es," he said. "I only wish I could tell you how good it was."
"Do you love me?" Fern asked.
The expression changed; his eyes turned inward. He looked away.
"I'm sorry," she said. "That was stupid."
"I don't know you," he said.
"It's all right," she answered, drawing his face down beside her own. "I'm sorry."
"No-I don't know."
"Please," she said.
"I wanted a woman," he said. "I needed a woman. I never thought beyond that. I thought I would find someone who would relieve that need, and that would be all. I didn't think-"
"You don't have to explain," Fern said. "It's all right."
"No," he said. His voice was touched with some deep emotion. "I forgot. It's been such a long time for me, that I forgot the kind of person I am. I forgot what I once had. I never realized that I wanted more than-more than just a woman."
Fern ran her fingers through his hair. "Don't," she said.
"I have to tell you," he said. "I can't pretend it's over now that we've-made love. That isn't an ending."
Fern turned her face until her cheek was against his. The unhappiness in his voice pained her, but he was saying something she wanted to hear.
"You're a human being," he said. "I can't pretend you're anything less than that. Some people block that out when they want something badly enough, but I can't. I can't."
"I understand," she said.
"No-no you don't. I don't believe that." He fell silent for a moment. Then, he began to speak.
"When I was a young man, I desired women. Like all young men, I thought of a woman as something to be conquered, something to be used for pleasure. That's the way a young man thinks. Some men think that way all their lives.
"But as the years passed, I began to realize that there was more to it than that. The body can tell you what it wants-the body can convince the mind that its desires are an end in themselves. There isn't any way to control that. But after the body is satisfied, then the mind has to evaluate what the body has done. That's the terrible part-trying to justify what the body had made you do."
"I understand," she said again.
"I married," he said. "I found a girl and fell in love with her. I wanted her with both my body and my mind, and I thought she felt the same way about me. Perhaps she did, at first.
"But something happened. We spent many years together, and I thought we would stay together for the rest of our lives. But something was eating at the foundations of it. I still don't know what it was. Maybe I'll never know.
"It was happening right under my nose, and I didn't see it. I didn't catch even the slightest hint of the decay. I had to have my face pushed into it-I had to find my wife in another man's arms.
"Maybe the whole thing was my fault. I lived with my wife for years-I thought I knew her. But I didn't. Not really. If I had known her, then I would have known what was happening. How could I help but know? So maybe I hadn't given enough of myself to her, and maybe that was what drove her to another man. I don't know."
He lifted his face and stared into her eyes.
"Now, I'm afraid. I've been hurt. I'm sure my wife was hurt just as badly. Maybe she's finding what she wanted with her new partner. I hope so. But I've seen now how two people can hurt each other. I'm afraid to get too close."
"It's all right," she said. "I'm satisfied."
"Don't you see?" he said. "There are many words for what we've done-there are filthy gutter expressions and biological terms and polite little ways of hinting at it. But only one expression covers everything, from the beginning to the end. You can say it almost anywhere, and nobody will be offended, and everybody will know what you mean."
"Making love," she said.
He seemed surprised. "Yes. That's right."
"You're not unique," she said. "Do you think you're the only person in the world who wants that? I've been looking for it all my life. I didn't even know what it was I wanted, but the want has been eating at me for years."
"I didn't know," he said. "I thought...."
"I know what you thought. I saw your face when you looked at me in the parking lot."
"You remembered me?" He seemed amazed.
She smiled. "Yes. I remembered you. I thought of you later on-when I picked up that young boy. He thought I was a woman. He looked at me and decided that I was a person who knew what she wanted, and knew how to get it. You thought the same thing."
"Yes. I did think that."
"It's not so. I wanted to hurt that boy. I wanted to hurt you, but I was afraid of you. I had the need, but the hatred was turning it into something else. I wanted to hurt all the men I met-I wanted to give them pain."
He rested his body on his elbows and cupped his palms around her cheeks. "What did that?" he asked.
"When I was a little girl," she said slowly, "a man did something terrible to me."
"Damn," he said, closing his eyes. "Oh. Damn it."
"He took me in his car-and made me...."
"Oh, hell-" There was a helpless rage in his voice. She felt his fingers tighten against her tace...." he made me afraid," she said. "All I could think of was pain when I looked at a man. Pain and hate. I wanted to destroy him. When I saw you, I wanted to destroy you, too."
He opened his eyes and looked into her face. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry there are such people in the world. A thing like that makes me ashamed to be a man."
Fern felt a numbness stealing over her as the words left her mouth. "I was seduced by a Lesbian," she said. "It was the first time I ever knew there could be pleasure-"
All at once, she was crying. It happened so swiftly and unexpectedly that she was not prepared for it. His face blurred in front of her and she turned her head and pressed her lips against his palm.
His lips brushed her ear. "Please...." he said, with pain in his voice. "Please...."
"Don't you see what you did for me?" she cried. "You took me out of all that! You wiped it all away! You made love to me...." The tears overtook her voice, and she could no longer speak.
She felt his lips caressing her. His hands slid into her hair, his fingers trembling. "Please...." he said again.
Fern let the flood gates open completely. She let the tears wash across her scars; she let herself go, utterly, for the first time in her life. Everything poured out of her with her tears.
It was some time before she was drained. But at last the sobbing subsided and the tears went dry. Slowly, she came back to life.
His mouth was touching hers. "Come with me," he said.
Fern could not speak.
"Come away from here. Come with me for a while."
Her mind could not accept what he was saying.
"We've both been hurt," he said. "Maybe we can heal each other."
She found her voice finally. "Make love to me," she said.
He held her face tenderly. "Make love to me again Please. T love you." His mouth covered hers. She sensed him coming to life.
"Yes," he said.
It began. And it was new again, as if it had never happened before.
"Yes," she said. "Yes, yes, yes. Do that-I want you. I want to share with you. Put your hands on me. Feel me. Love me. I want to know you're touching me. I want to be with you."
They moved together.
"Hold my breasts," she cried. "Cover them. They're yours. Take them. Yes-like that. Oh, yes-just like that. Oh, that's so good. Yes-yes-"
This time was utterly new. This time was slow in building. This time, the rocket of pleasure mounted slowly, without haste, without strain. She felt like the track of a meteor across the night sky.
"Love me-" she said. "Love me-love me."
"Yes," he said.