After an uneventful and unfruitful evening searching for Damian, Dr. Allen reluctantly renounced that his efforts were becoming futile, resolving to return the next Sunday morning instead. He would resume his hunt for Damian then.
That Sunday morning was a crisp, bright one; at least it was at eight o'clock in the morning; scarcely a car on the street, nor a soul on the sidewalk. Dr. Allen kicked himself now, realizing he should have surmised Sunday morning would have provided a much easier backdrop to seek out Sally's guy, compared to the backdrop of an evening after a long, tiring work day.
After a couple of hours of scouring several alleyways, Dr. Allen at last located Damian's little hide-way. He knew he had found the right place by spotting the empty whiskey bottles, old wooden crates, crumpled up newspapers, cardboard boxes, and old weathered blankets with different designs on them, long-ago faded.
He also knew he had found the right place as Dr. Allen observed the sleeping man who looked around forty-something, tall and thin, lying in the alleyway. He had medium-length brown hair, which was greasy and messy, and peppered with gray around the temples. Unlike other transients, Damian was clean-shaven, except of course, for the morning stubble on his lower face and neck. As to be expected, his makeshift home reeked of urine and booze, just like Sally had described in her therapy sessions.
Dr. Allen couldn't see Damian's eyes yet because the man was still sleeping. But he could indeed imagine Sally being overwhelmed with girlish delight by this quite attractive man, especially if he had the striking green eyes she so often pointed out.
Dr. Allen was able to look beyond Damian's torn and tattered clothes and dirty appearance. He could easily see the physical charm that had been able to seize Sally. He saw it in the man currently lying asleep in front of him.
Dr. Allen eyed a few ants, roaches, and rats crawling around in the damp, cluttered alleyway. And he guessed the putrid water on the ground originated from broken water pipes inside the brick building adjacent to the alley. It wasn't exactly the perfect picture of health.
**********
Sitting at the student desk in his bedroom, Vincent looked out the window, struggling to concentrate on the work that lay in front of him. After sitting in the same position for the past few hours, he decided it had become somewhat stuffy in his room, and wondered if he should open the window to get some fresh air.
It was August, and with the humidity in recent weeks, coupled with the countless shrubbery around the house, mosquitoes and other bugs were tirelessly fluttering nearby, sometimes making their way into the house, especially when the windows were open. No, he thought, he wouldn't let the insects get in, as they would no doubt distract him further from finishing his paper. He decided to open his door instead. That should let in some fresh air from the rest of the big house.
As soon as he opened his bedroom door, Vincent smelled the agreeable aroma coming from the kitchen downstairs. However, it didn't quite smell like one of Mrs. Perry's home-cooked concoctions. "Who could be cooking at this hour?" he wondered. It was way past dinnertime, and he even recalled seeing Mrs. Perry clean up everyone's kitchen table mess that evening. He had even seen her put away all the pots and pans, and all the dishes and plates for the night.
The smell emanating from the kitchen was chicken soup or a poultry broth of some sort, and it smelled amazing. Not that Vincent could afford to take a break from working on the first draft of his thesis paper; the one he needed to email to his Graduate Studies advisor by 8 am the next morning. So, initially thinking he could go downstairs to see if he could get a bowl of the delicious-smelling soup from whoever had cooked it, he just as quickly reminded himself, "Dude, you don't need any more distractions, not until you finish that thesis draft and turn it in".
About half an hour later, Vincent felt completely stiff from sitting slouched in his chair. He got up to stretch for a few minutes, and then to make a quick trip down the hall to the bathroom. Upon walking back to his room, however, Vincent could no longer ignore the delicious chicken aroma floating upstairs from the kitchen. He decided to take a little detour downstairs and peek in at what it was that was making the whole house smell so good. He quietly reached downstairs, and found the kitchen lights turned off, as was the rest of the first floor. Vincent then flicked on the lights and immediately spotted a big pot covered with a clear lid on the stove. Sure enough, when he lifted the lid, he observed some sort of stew containing chicken, rice, and vegetables. He guessed there were a few spices and seasonings added to it as well, which put a slightly red-orange tinge to the soup. Vincent looked around the kitchen, and noticed the rest of it was as spotless as Mrs. Perry had left it a few hours earlier.
**********
After having been gone a while, Sally finally arrived back in town from weeks of being away taking care of her aunt. After she unpacked and settled back into her bedroom, she was busy trying to think of some ideas to surprise her lover with something special; something to make up for her absence, since she hadn't had the chance to tell him beforehand that she'd be gone. Sally resolved to cook him something scrumptious, and take it over to him on her next visit.
A few nights later, she put on a pretty dress since it was summertime. Since the weather was such that she didn't need to bundle up, there was some leeway as to how she could dress that evening. She would try to look especially nice for Damian. She even put on a nice little scarf with a cute floral pattern on it, to go with the pale rose-colored dress she had chosen for that evening.
Riding in the night-owl bus and looking out the open window, Sally wondered if Damian had missed her as much as she had missed him. The pot of soup ended up being quite heavy to lug around on her trek downtown that night, but no matter. It was well worth it. It was for her guy.
**********
"You good for nothing little WHORE!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, as he slapped her across the face with a force he didn't even know he possessed. It was a force Sally had never felt before from another human being. Damian had hit her so hard, that she fell back and hit the ground without warning. Trying to regain her footing, Sally reached up to hold her left cheek, which already started feeling red and swollen. She was completely taken aback by Damian's actions. Before she had time to think about it, let alone get up off the ground, Damian grabbed her by the hair with one hand, and with the other, pulled her dress open down her back. He carelessly ripped out numerous dress buttons along the way.
Damian had built up so much anger and frustration over the last weeks of not seeing Sally, that he had long ago vowed to punish her. Tonight, he would use the switch he kept in the crate next to his sleeping area. He would wield it on Sally the moment he saw her again. He also reached for an old extension cord he kept in the crate. This he would use to tie her up and teach her a lesson she would not soon forget.
