This blog is Copyright ©1995~2018 by Karl Denton

Saturday, May 6, 2006

Whiskey and lace

The room was lit by one window; I walked in and was drawn to a table, the light was subdued from the white lace curtains. They hung with a grace from an era so long ago that I could only remember my mother telling me about it. A time when things were simpler and quieter. Every detail, every stitch could be seen in these old curtains, hard to describe such beauty but the hands that made these must have been strong, but nimble.

I noticed this song playing on an old radio in the background…
something familiar, but the old radio had trouble breathing life into this song… every now and then it gasped to play certain notes or voices. I listened with puzzlement at the words, squinting as if that would help jog my memory.

I turned to the window again something about it, something that caught my eye when I walked in, the table, something on it that would not let me wander about the room… reflecting in the light I could see tall crystal glasses… stoic, regal clear stems, tall and slender, almost as sensual as the woman I had bumped into at the train station… tall slender leading up to a red, rose red challis almost a perfect bell shape… the range of red was as wide as the colors of a painters pallet. Starting from a dark red at the very limits of the window where the light was minimal to a very bright sensual red for those in the middle. *Red!* If only people knew the history of the color red…

Delicate flowers could be seen in the lace curtains there shapes form various shadow effects on the crystal. Shadows from the folds, the dark walls, that song… what is that song playing in the background… damn this memory of mine… Looking a bit longer on this table I see a decanter of some sort of liquid… nearly the color of the crystal challises but just a hint of brown in it… enough that sparked my curiosity, what is this liquid…

Looking over my shoulder I don’t see anyone, that damn song… if I am caught it will be because I hear it, instead of someone approaching… playing in the background… like a record skipping to the beginning and starting over… that damn song… Ok this is my chance this is the time to see what this liquid is… my right hand reaches out to take the container and I pull off the top… slowly making sure there is not a sound, as gentle as I can I set the top on the table… wet side up, I guess I was shaking just a bit as I pulled out the top… good! this part was over… just reach out and take a crystal in your hand… forget the damn song just reach out and take one… it does not matter which just choose!

There it was! A small clear goblet sitting by a picture frame! Sitting almost by itself, almost blocking the photo that I could barely see… dark but there… my arm shaking with just I bit of apprehension reaches for the goblet and then I hear the most horrific sound… the music stops as if a train had driven through the side of the house, taking the radio with it and never once stopping! My heart started beating, harder and I dared not turn… keep cool Karl, just keep your cool… and there it was, a voice… a female voice… soft and quiet “can you pour me one as well?’ she said. Never once showing any fear, or discomfort…. “Just a single” she continued, “I’ve already had one”. Keep your cool Karl this will be ok… “Sure I can, would you like it on the rocks?” a term I’ve had trouble with my entire life… Its ice damn it, not-rocks, I thought to myself.

“No just a short whiskey would do fine” she whispered. Now behind me I could feel the heat from her body. Warm, against my back, her breath against my neck… “What was I doing here’ I thought! All I remember is walking up the steps to the front door of this beautiful old house and walking in… a woman at the buss station and some song playing in my head, never stopping… “What was the name of that song? “, who was that woman… tall, sensual, legs that went on forever… until they met the body of a beautifully fit young female… “do you remember why I asked you here” I heard in the back ground, “no mam” I replied… her voice got just a bit stronger as I poured both drinks… “I am not a mam, I am the woman you met earlier, the one at the train station” she blurted as if she was a bit irritated with the notion of being considered “mam”. “I’ve asked you here” her voice getting gentler as she spoke… “I’ve asked you here because I have had a dream, a dream about you, in this dream you spoke to me, told me about some things and I can no longer remember the dream”, she continued, “…do you understand what I am saying?”

“YES!” I exclaimed, “I do understand… Where is it?” I asked her, without thinking as if some natural response for me, “I will need to see it if I am going to help” I turned to look at this woman with a warm body heat and gentle voice and my breath was taken from me in an instant… a stunning woman, who was she? Why me? What did she really want from me… the questions… I took a gulp from my goblet as I handed her the whiskey she had asked for. Blended Scotch whiskey one that had aged for a long time… perhaps as long as the curtains had hung in this window I was standing next to… surely long before this beautiful woman had purchased this house… surely!

She lifted her slender arm and pointed toward the table, her bare arm and hand a beautiful tanned color… it was hard to take my eyes off of her… I looked up at her face and her head nodded toward the table. “OH… I mumbled, oh yes I see it…” I walked back over to the table holding the delicate crystal and whisky. My eyes must have adjusted to the light, must have gotten used to the dark background of the rest of the room. I walked over to the table and picked up the photograph that my goblet had been sitting in front of all along… tilting the photograph toward the light squinting as if it would help me see clearer, I could not remember getting here… but this photograph seems familiar! I held it in my hands and closed my eyes… I ran my fingers over the front glass… this was an old frame, and old piece of glass, I could still feel the ripples from it’s primitive method of construction, this frame had been around for a while!

An image formed in my mind… she asked, “Do you see?” I replied in a monotone voice without looking up “yes, yes I see something, give me a moment” The image appearing in my mind was of a child… small, with big blue eyes, perhaps 8 or 9 years old… cute young child. I looked up at her and asked, “What would you like to know about her?” The woman replied, looking me in the eyes… “I need to know…” tears welling up in her blue eyes “ I need to know if she is happy” then images began flashing in my mind, they seemed to hint at a clue why I had been asked to this home, by this woman… it came back just as hard as the train that seemed to take the song playing on the radio away was…

I could see things; I could see things in the future… what may happen… “Look” I said… “I do not remember coming here and I know I have met you before but I am just not sure what is happening!”… The woman walked toward me slow and deliberate, graceful just a silent breeze, not even the delicate lace curtains moved as she passed. She asked, “are you a caring man?” “What?” came out of my mouth “Are you a caring man, do you care?” she asked just a bit stronger… “Yes, I suppose I am” I replied, “what does that have to do with this photograph and the young girl in it?”

“Everything!” she exclaimed. “That young girl is my mother… her happiness is… her contentment is all that I have left to care about. She has worked so hard in life and I recognized you at the train station” she continued, “you had a drink remember?” I asked you here, asked you to come and see how her life is. These things, the whisky, crystal and lace… these are hers, every time I walk by them I want to know that she is happy and safe. And you told me you could see this” The woman continued with her story “I asked you here because I knew that if you touched the photograph you would see her” I set the photograph down and this beautiful woman, sensual in her confidence and strength in her form, came close almost face to face… “ I need to be sure, you see, I have fallen in love and I need to be sure she is happy and content with her life”… I looked her in the eyes completely ignoring those pouting lips, the tears running down her face, the pure emotion she was displaying, it was hard to take, restraining myself from reaching up and wiping those tears away… “Not to worry” I replied, “please don’t cry, your mother knows how deeply you care, how much you love her and her life. She is happy and content that you have taken care of her. She knows that you have explorations to go on and lives through your adventures,” I continued. “She knows that you love, and is happy for it.”

The woman standing in front of me lifted her head; tears drying as she slowly looked up at me, almost embarrassed at her display of raw emotion… I began to speak… “I really think I should be going but you don’t have anything to worry about” the smile on this woman’s face was familiar, one I had not seen in a very long time… she knew something that I didn’t… she moved closer, her hand reached out for mine… “You really don’t remember?” she asked… “Remember what?” I replied. “Coming home!” she said as she took my hand and walked toward the back of the room and turned on that old radio… that song was playing again, I remember that song from somewhere… “What was the name of that song?” I must have spoken out loud because she answered my question “That is our song… Wicked Game by Chris Isaak silly boy!” That smile was so familiar…

She walked me up a set of stairs where a hot bath had been drawn, she unbuttoned my shirt and slacks… left me standing naked as I watched her slip out of her robe. I had not realized she had it on… had not noticed her tanned slender legs, and that she was barefoot. She guided me and helped me lay back in the hot water against the back of the tub. She then stepped in the water with me and sat in front of me, laid her back-against my chest… wrapped my arms around her. The room was dim, very dim… a few candles flickering in the distance and that song playing in the in the background…

“I don’t understand” I whispered, “What is going on…” “shhh” the whispered reply came back. “Let the heat of the water refresh your memory, it will be ok…” We sat with my chest to her back, and my arms wrapped around her for a while and as my thoughts started to clear I kept remembering hearing that song, seeing that table with the whisky and crystal on it in front of the window, flashes of memories… blurred vision, like photographs flipping in a book, not sure of them… The visions stopped as she sat straight up, turned to me and asked, “Are you back yet?” Her voice soft but excited. I looked at this beautiful woman sitting in front of me, naked, tears in her eyes, small beads of perspiration running down her torso, this incredibly sensual figure with bright beaming blue eyes and whispered “yes, I am home” She turned back around and whispered back to me “good lets just sit here for a while longer and enjoy the warmth” with that she took my hands in hers and wrapped my arms around her, holding as tight as she could, as if she had not seen me for sometime, a very long time.

She whispered “close your eyes for a while” The image of whisky, crystal and lace kept filing my vision… then the warmth took even that away as we listened to that old radio sitting in the candle light taking in the warmth of a hot bath…

I had finally come home…