Val the Vamp, Ch. 4
The Morning Ritual Bath in a Spring
It was raining. It seemed like it was always raining. Climate change, the weather people said. The Gods are punishing me, I said. Why? Because it was almost dawn, and time for my ritual bath in Deer Creek. I was going to have to negotiate climbing down the side of the ravine to the creek, dressed only in my bright green robe, tied via a brightly colored Kenzo sash at the waist. I loved that sash. I'll be naked underneath the robe, of course, then hang the robe on a tree or a large bush, before entering the creek for my cleansing. The ritual morning cleansing must be done naked.
My ramshackle, clapboard house didn't have an attic, so I could hear the rain pounding on the roof. At least, there were no leaks in the roof. From the sound of things, the rain was quite ferocious.
All the water from what I called the monsoon rains turned normally peaceful, even sleepy, Deer Creek into a raging torrent. Yet still, I was determined. Luckily, there were some old stairs some gentle soul had long ago installed, leading down to the creek, so there was little danger of my slip-sliding down the side of the ravine.
Little danger does not mean no danger, however, as I found out via my hubris-accompanied all too casual steps, on the mud-covered stairs, causing me to slip-slide down the last bit of the ravine, right into Deer Creek and it's murderous current. Off came my green robe and my brightly colored Kenzo sash, as I desperately tried to keep my head above water. I was losing the battle for life giving oxygen, as I struggled fruitlessly to find some stability. Newspaper headlines flashed before my eyes:
Delphi oracle, locally known only as Pythia, failed to predict her own death.
Her naked, bruised, and drowned body was found miles downstream from her ramshackle clapboard house in Delphi. Rumors are she was a student at Purdue, in West Lafayette, some twenty miles downstream.
When I came around, I was thoroughly drenched, naked, and in my bed in my little house, shivering, and Old Man Smithers was standing over me with smelling salts, which he must have found in my bathroom. At least I was under the covers and not flashing my naked body to him, but then I realized he must have saved me, and carried me, naked, to my own bed. No doubt he got an eyeful, as well as a grope-full.
I remembered trying to get a footing in the raging creek, getting one, and then the current pulled me down under the water and I lost my footing. I surfaced, trying to breathe, and tried to swim to the shore, but the current was just too strong, too ferocious. I panicked as I fought for air, and for my life. I lost the battle, pulled under and unable to breathe. Gasping for air, I got water mixed with the air, and as I tired from the struggle, I got more and more water and less and less air, to the point where I lost consciousness, and probably died.
Yet here I was, in my bed, under the covers, being offered some tea, and with Old Man Smithers looking down at me with a wonderful combination of affection and concern. It dawned on me, surprisingly slowly, that I was still alive!
I tried to speak to say thank you, but only Deer Creek water left my mouth, and I bent over the bed, expecting to vomit. Old Man Smithers had a put a pot o the floor for just such an occasion. What a thoughtful guy! I didn't vomit, though. All that happened was that I coughed up a lot of water, and in the process I saw Mr. Smithers' water-soaked bare feet. In fact, I realized, as my gaze rotated up, he was wearing no clothes at all. I noticed his penis hanging down, all flaccid, and I wondered what it would look like when it was hard. Too bad I was too exhausted to suck it to life, so to speak.
Is sex all that I can ever think about? Am I that trivial a person? I almost died, for Pete's sake!
"I made tea, and chicken soup," Mr. Smithers said. Okay, then, I had not hallucinated the tea.
"I know," I said, since I had just read his mind. I really have to stop doing that! "I came close to perishing. You saved my life. How can I ever thank you?" I asked.
Mr. Smithers just smiled. "Having you alive is thanks enough. You know, it's kind of thrilling to think I saved a life. I'm fine, don't worry about me" he said and then paused, reflecting, I suppose. "I was a medic during the Vietnam War; yours is not the first life I've saved. Not by a long shot. You're not even the first drowning victim whom I've saved."
I figured I should bake him a pie or something. I could bring it over to him in the morrow. I knew he was thinking we could have a bit of a romp in the bed as a way of thanking him for my life, but thank goodness he was too polite, or considerate, or scared, to suggest such a thing! I'm always amazed at how horny the men of Delphi are. At least Old Man Smithers realized now was not the time for such things. I had just died and been saved at slightly beyond the last minute!
To be fair, Old Man Smithers lives alone, and probably he could benefit from the company of an (age appropriate!) woman, and many of the husbands of Delphi were sexually frustrated for all sorts of different reasons. One of the reasons was Erectile Dysfunction, which seemed to behave like a contagious disease among the husbands, except for those who had been cured by Dorothy. I really, really, had to meet this woman, Dorothy Elston!
I sat up, forgetting I was naked, and sitting up provoked another coughing fit. I was gradually coughing out the waters of Deer Creek. I belatedly realized I was exposing my boobs to Mr. Smithers' gaze (why hasn't he asked me to call him Leo yet?), as I sat, so I asked him if he would be so kind as to get a T shirt from my bureau drawer, second from the top?
When Leo returned with the T shirt, the answer to my previous question was clear: Leo possessed a gorgeous, hard, and erect cock. "May I touch your cock, please, Leo?" I blurted out, completely inappropriately. The fact was, I needed a fresh infusion of blood, and it seemed the need was rather urgent. Leo may have been old, but he was right there, he was naked, he was hard, and quite obviously, he had lots of blood.
It would be a rather unusual way of thanking a man for saving my life from a horrible death of drowning. Most unusual! Up to this point, I had strictly avoided sex with the men of Delphi, but Leo was single, and he had just f**king saved my life! And, I really did need blood! I had no plans to see either Darrell or Jason Jones today, it being -- well, what day was it, anyway?
**
Oh, shit! Was it really Sunday? That meant Jason was on an airplane heading back to Pasadena and Cal Tech. Why had I been such a fool? When Jason put the moves on me, as he was obviously going to do, I lectured him about it being four f**king years without even an email, text, postcard, Facebook, Instagram, nothing, and he comes here and expects me to welcome him with open arms and open legs? Just who does he think he is?
"But Pythia, your email address is top secret, nobody knew your postal address, you don't text, you're not on Facebook; and Instagram? Forget about it," Jason had said.
"If you'd have loved me, you'd have found a way," I replied.
"Seriously, Pythia?"
I had to give him credit. He was making an effort to call me Pythia. "Yes, seriously," I said. "Instead you were bopping bimbo after bimbo. First there was Amy, then Sally, then even that cold bitch Marcia, and let's not forget the very much already married Stephanie, the blonde bombshell to end all bombshells. That's not the behavior of a man pining away for my lost love."
