The Taing of Alice

Fantasy

By H. Jekyll

Part Two - The Taking of Alice

*****

Monday she wasn't home when I arrived. The place was empty. Her car wasn't there.

That wasn't like Alice, not at all, but there's an instant when something hits you, when the possibility that something bad could happen becomes real to you, and it hadn't yet hit me. Maybe she'd run out for some groceries. But she hadn't left a note. There weren't any phone messages. Where? What? I walked through the house. I went through every room. Everything seemed normal, except that Alice wasn't anywhere. I called her cell number and got voice mail. Alice? Where are you? Call home, will you? I called her office, but it had closed for the day.

Six-thirty p.m. Seven. Still no Alice. Stare out the window. Pace. Look again for a note. Make sure the phone is working. Do it all again. The thought kept rising: call the police. Call them now, before it's too late. Maybe there was an accident. Maybe something else. Maybe what? I was beginning to get an inkling of the 'what.' I knew it, but I didn't want to think it, that it was me. My chest and stomach were hollow and an electrical current spread down both my arms. Have you had those terrible feelings? I almost hoped there had been an accident. God, Alice. What is it? Where are you?

Could she have left me? Could I have blown it that badly and not have a clue? I'm dense, but not that dense. Could I have missed something so big? Maybe I should call her sister first, to check on her. How do I explain the call? Hi Deb, I can't find Alice. Has she left me? But what else to do? Call the police.

Wait! If she'd left she'd take a bag. I ran back to the bedroom closet. Of course a suitcase was gone, and by now I knew Alice was, too. So it really was time to call Deb; maybe Jessica. What was happening? What was it? Was the sex a parting gift, a way to make the break easier for her, a goodbye blow job, something to lessen the guilt?

The phone rang.

"Alice?"

"Hello, Henry!" Richard's voice boomed through the phone.

"I can't talk, Richard. I need to stay off the phone. I'm expecting a call."

"Yes! Of course! From Alice. She's right here."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I didn't understand. It was surreal. Could Alice really be with Richard? How? I did

not

understand. I stood there with the phone pushed to my ear, staring at a print above the phone stand, and none of it made any sense to me. Finally...

"Put her on."

"In a moment, Henry. In a moment. She'll have a hard time talking to you, so I told her I'd speak with you first. Alice is with me, and she's staying with me. She's

my

woman now. You'll have to get over her." His voice was as warm and jolly as ever.

"What the hell is going on? Put my wife on

now

!"

"Sure, Henry, sure. But try to control yourself. This isn't easy for her, and she's just trying to grab some happiness in her dreary life." There was a crackling sound as he handed the phone to Alice.

"Henry, I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you, but I had to get out. I was smothering. I couldn't stand it anymore."

"What do you mean? What's going on? I don't understand, Alice. I love you! Please, come home so we can talk."

"No, I'm not coming back. I had to get a new life. Please stay away." The phone went dead.

* * * * *

Direct little sentences, one after the other, like footsteps leading away. But not an explanation. She was unhappy. She wanted out. Why now? There was the coldness recently. But a week ago she loved me. She wanted me. What had happened? Where was the unhappiness?

All Richard's phones are unlisted. I called the numbers I knew but no one answered, so I left messages everywhere. "Richard. I need to speak with Alice. Have her call me, or come by, or anything. Richard, do it! We have to talk. I need to understand!"

I called Deb. "Henry!" she scolded, "I don't know what's going on with you two. She told me she was making a change. Let me finish! It was just today, this morning. What did you

do

?"

Indeed, what did I do?

I called Jessica. Bill answered. "What did you

do

, Henry? I can't believe Alice would just up and leave out of the blue. Some women, yes, but not her." No, Jessica hadn't heard anything at all.

* * * * *

You'd call everyone you could think of if she were yours, if it was all you could do in the night, dialing people who were almost strangers to tell them you'd lost your wife and did they know anything, had they heard anything, was there anything at all they could tell you. So, our whole world knew almost right away. "She went with

him

?" He's that well known. Yes, yes, and yes, she did. At least none of them asked me what I had done to deserve it.

I have trouble remembering separate things, details, from that night and the next few days. I was too frantic to keep my thoughts ordered. I think it was around midnight that it occurred to me to drive to Richard's estate. It's his own gated community of one, lined with trees from the eastern woodlands that could drink the desert dry. I had the security guard at the gate call the house. He talked for a moment, glancing down into the car at me every few seconds as though I might be a troublemaker. "I'm sorry, sir. He's staying at another residence tonight. The staff doesn't know when he will return to this one." I asked the logical question and got the answer I expected. "No, sir. We aren't authorized to reveal his location." Shit. What was he doing to Alice while I chased my tail? He had her tail all to himself, didn't he?

I fell asleep on the couch, waiting for a call that never came.

* * * * *

I drove to Richard's office building at dawn, when everything was still quiet, and waited in the car until people started to arrive. At nine I called Alice's office and got her administrative assistant. Another surprise. She had quit. Last week. She hadn't even given them two weeks' notice.

So she was changing everything in her life, cutting out everyone and everything and especially me. I couldn't have been bad enough to have caused that. She could have gone to Deb's, gotten an apartment, demanded counseling. It was him. Only him. That son of a bitch!

A dark limo pulled into Richard's parking space and I jumped out of my car and ran to it without even closing my door. I needn't have bothered. The passenger window rolled down and I was looking at some attorney.

"Where is he? I need to see him!"

"As you can see, Mr. Moriarty is not here. Moreover, you are not welcome on these premises. If you do not leave right away we will have you removed."

"But he has my wife! He took my wife, damn it!"

"

That

would be an issue between you and your spouse, not Mr. Moriarty." I looked around and found two very large, but polite, young men, ready to escort me away.

* * * * *

A PI I've used once told me people should never think they can't be found. They leave traces. Hell, Richard hardly tried. He had the money to make himself unavailable. With a couple of hours work, my PI found two other residences, along with three more phone numbers, registrations on four cars, two work addresses, the whole McGillicuddy. I drove to the first address, another gated estate. The same two men were waiting for me there. They followed me as I went on to find the third residence, and then to Richard's other work address, where they were met by two more men.

I went home and began calling all his numbers, leaving voice messages all over. I called his offices over and over. His attack secretaries got to not answering. Fucking caller ID!

At 2:00 p.m. I called to cancel all my appointments for the week.

I drove to a spot a few blocks from one of Richard's estates, parked, and began looking for a chink in its fortifications, but within five minutes the second set of large men came out to greet me. This time they grabbed me and hustled me back to my car. "Listen, you fucker!" one said. "Stay away from Mr. Moriarty or you're going to get hurt!" Not nearly as polite.

* * * * *

I finally saw Richard because he came to see me. It was a few days later, two or three I guess, and I was sitting in the living room staring at a wall, out of ideas and out of gas. Alice, my wife, my life partner. She was gone, and it was out of the blue, and it was with Mr. Sex. I jumped when the doorbell rang. There he was, flanked by the two polite bodyguards, one of whom positioned himself part way between the two of us.

"Henry!" It was his usual warm voice. "I hear you've been asking for me."

"Where is Alice?"

"She's fine, Henry."

"Where is she? You took her, you fucker. I need to talk to her!"

"She left you. Happens all the time. Accept it, Henry. Find someone else, someone more your speed."

"What do you mean? What have you done with her?" God, I wanted to kill him. That was the moment I hated him above all the other moments that would follow.

"Oh, you don't want to ask that, Henry. I've done plenty with her. Our lovemaking is, oh,

very

imaginative. And I might add 'passionate.' Why, the

things

you never did to her!"

I stared at him. Could I land a good punch before the polite young man took me down?

"What did you do? How did you do this?"

Richard looked a little impatient. "Look, Henry. I seduced her, okay? I convinced her I'm the man who can give her these experiences she's missed. And it's true. I can. So I talked her into it."

"How?"

"Henry, Henry, Henry. If I have to

tell

you it won't do any good. The fact is that a lot of women are pretty easy if you approach them right. Alice was as easy as any. Men are so pussy-whipped they think they have to be

sensitive

, and supportive, and all that, to get them." He twisted out the word "sensitive."

"But that's not what most women want. Some. Not most. They're so transparent if you look at whom they gravitate toward. They want a man with a capital M. They want him clever and strong and rich and powerful and experienced. He has to be smarter than they are. And they want him aggressive and a little controlling. For this guy, they want to be his

special

girl."

He played with the world "special," dragged it out.

"They deny it. They think they should be feminists, but it's true. Then, once they make the commitment to a guy, in their heads, he can make them do almost anything. They'll like most of it, too. Didn't you ever wonder why so many of them change their feelings about sex to match his, start doing the sexual things he wants? Almost all the women into swinging and bondage started doing it to please their men. And it isn't just sex. You find it in all kinds of attitudes. You see it but you don't understand it. If he's in charge that's how it usually works out. That's why so many stay with batterers and child rapers. They can't imagine life without him, and they'll do anything to try to stay his special little

thang

."

"And Alice..."

"You want to know how I got to your little Alice, don't you? God, it was so easy! I seduced her over the phone. By the second call I knew I was in, figuratively speaking. You wouldn't believe how much fun it is with those bitches who think they're tough and want to show it by being insulting. No, of course you wouldn't, Henry. You don't know how to seduce a woman at all. If you ever did it, it was by luck."

He finally got to something concrete.

"She never told you I called, did she?"

He'd called? He'd called. Of course. Probably that first day, sometime after lunch. Things began to fit into place.

Finally I spoke: "And she talked to you? I can't believe it."

"Believe it." He laughed. "Really she's always been intrigued by me, but she hid it behind an air of hostility."

"I thought it was real enough."

Richard laughed again.

"I'm never fooled by appearances," he said. "She thought she was supposed to hate me but I was this fantasy man. I could offer her so many things. I became the man in her imagination. I'm sure after my first call she was wondering what it would be like to be fucked by me. Maybe before that, after the New Year's thing. That's the way the sex works out, Henry dear. Don't think women go into it just wanting the pleasure. Oh, they love the pleasure all right. But first they want the man. She commits to him in her mind and then she starts wanting him to do her. And she'll get off by letting him fuck

with

her."

His beeper went off. He pulled it out of its holster and looked at it.

"Gotta go, Henry. By the way, this was just a courtesy call. You should leave Alice alone. She doesn't want to see you, and I wouldn't want things to become... unpleasant. But who knows? Maybe one day we can all be friends again. Meanwhile, if you need to leave a message, call this number only."

One of the polite young men handed me a business card and they left.

* * * * *

A CD arrived the next day. The bell rang again. It only brought bad news. This time it was a courier, who hand-delivered the thing. What would you do with it? I went straight to a CD player and popped it in. It was a recording of Richard's first call to Alice. His way of boasting. What it told me was that everything he'd said was true. Richard had seduced Alice just like he said he had. He was truthful, I thought one of the most truthful people I've ever known.

I still have the CD. It's stored carefully, and I transferred the text to my hard drive so I could listen to it over and over, when I wanted to torture myself. Listen.

"Hello?"

"Hello, lovely Alice. This is Richard."

"And to what tragedy do we owe the honor of this call? Henry isn't home just yet."

"No, that's just as well. I'd rather talk with you anyway. You're much more interesting."

"Well, I don't think

you're

very interesting. I don't get off on displays of cheap sex and dominance."

"Dominance? The other night? Oh heavens, Alice! Do you really think I forced Diane into anything?"

"I'm sure she loves being whipped. Especially in front of a crowd."

"Of

course

she does! Dear, dear Alice. It was part of the fantasy. Couldn't you see how excited she became by it all? Everything was a fantasy scene we worked out in advance, so she could experience something she'd only imagined. So she got to live it out. I thought surely

you

recognized that. I saw it in your eyes. Everything that really drives people has large dollops of fantasy, you know, and New Year's Eve drove Diane into a

such

a state."

"Oh, I'm

sure

it did. And what of your state?"

"A day at the office. I build my life around fantasy. You know that. It's made me wealthy. And free. And in demand."

"Maybe to some women, Dick, but not to me. That wasn't just a show at New Year's."

"Don't try so hard to convince yourself, lovely Alice. You find me more intriguing than you let on. And I find

you

irresistible. But it was only

half

a show. It was a

scene

. She accepted the rules before we started, the rules of the fantasy. She was bound to uphold her side. If she didn't, if it were

just

a show, she wouldn't have been half so aroused. She had to know I could play out everything in the role of master, to give her fantasy world the illusion of reality. If you'd like, I could ask her to explain it to you."

"You arrogant bastard!" Finally she was through bantering.

On the tape Richard explodes in a warm laugh, sounding completely unself-conscious, before he responds: "Well, yes to the first part." He laughs again. "But not so arrogant that I think I can just swoop in and a lady will find

me

irresistible

.

Things are muchly much more complex than that!" Again he laughs.

"Oh, you don't just lay on a fantasy? I thought you could do anything in fantasy!"

I'm sure she thought she was laying on withering sarcasm, but he wasn't stopped at all.

"Heavens no! Good fantasy requires imagination and a mind for myriad details, but it also needs enormous preparation. That's why most people's fantasies go nowhere. One must master them, play with them, plot reasonable paths and outcomes, deal with logistics. And it requires action. It takes all that to grow fantasy into something more than a desperate yearning within you when you're having your coitus."

Alice doesn't say anything. Silence. Such a long pause on the tape.

"You're so quiet, Alice. Why don't you tell me a fantasy? With thought and discussion, it can evolve."

Finally she says something, in a quieter voice, all the high-spirited, romance-novel challenge drained from it. "I think I better go now, Richard. I'm not one of your girls. I'm a happily married woman. I'm not looking for your games."

"No. Of course not, Alice." Richard's voice drops, both volume and timbre. "I never suggested otherwise. I apologize. I'm not

that

presumptuous. And yet. And yet you do have fantasies, unspoken ones. You make love in predictable ways, at predictable times. And you bring the fantasies up from the back of your mind when you're doing it. Maybe before you start. Maybe they're what get you excited in the first place. They're your most private thoughts, not even for Henry."

A very brief silence. He didn't let it drag, the bastard. His timing comes out on the tape. "Tell me I'm wrong, Alice. Tell me that honestly."

She finally comes back on. She sounds depressed, tired.

"Everyone has fantasies. They add spice. I'm certainly not going to tell you mine."

"Of course not, Alice. I apologize again. I'm explaining what I do. I evolve fantasies for people, and I charge them for the job. I charge them excessively. I tell them everyone's can be more, and it's true. Later they come back and pay me more to take their fantasies further or to craft new ones. There can always be more. Fantasy is what makes life really worth living for the thinking person. You know yours can be more. I do that for people, and it's worth it to them to pay me very well."

Here it seems she tries to make a joke of the conversation with a laugh that is only a little bit forced. "I don't know why I let you go on like this! Like I said, I'm not going to be one of your little fantasy girls."

He laughs again, and it's not forced at all. "And yet here you are, talking with the enemy when you could have hung up long ago." He laughs once again, then says something with faux sadness: "I guess I'll just have to go away with my own little fantasies of you."

She laughs, still forced: "Yes, I guess so." There's a hesitation. "Though I don't think I like your having fantasies of me. You don't have my permission to have any."

"But as you said, everyone has fantasies. I'm simply more honest about them. That's part of why I'm good with them, why they're my business, because I'm not like other people, not ashamed of them." Then he sounds more serious. "And they're mine. I don't need permission. Goethe wrote, If

I

love

you

, what business is it of

yours

?"

He lets the silence hang this time. I can imagine him timing it, deciding how long he should give her. It's only about five seconds before she responds, but it seems longer.

"I...I don't know about your having those fantasies." Her voice has changed. She doesn't sound angry, or disapproving.

"I don't need your approval, Alice."

She hesitates again: "Should I worry about what you're thinking?"

He drags it out again. He's good: "You said you didn't want to know."

"Well. Well, I don't know." Her mouth seems dry: "Maybe you should. Tell me. I think...I think you should tell me what they are." Another pause. She's ill at ease. He has her. "Because I think I might worry about them. About what you're thinking."

A silence.

"Richard?"

A brief silence.

"So you want to know something I've fantasized about you."

"Yes. No. But... I don't know. You brought it up, not me."