Room 321

Copyright© 2008 RipCurrent all rights reserved

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***

The showerhead hissed water down while I massaged my scalp. I heard the bathroom door open and Rachel, my wife of eleven years, yelled, "I'll do it." I froze watching the sudsy water spiral down the drain. Her words stilled me. Shock, terror and revulsion oddly engorged my carnal craving.

"I'm gonna rape you!" I bellowed and dashed out the shower stall; Rachel bolted, screeching, "I have to go to work."

She flung open the front door and sprinted out with me in pursuit. I remembered my nudity and braked. Irritated, I flew back to the bathroom for a towel. I slung it around me and charged out, but she was already backing out in her charcoal Honda Accord.

I chased her down the driveway, my wet feet slapping the cold concrete, I yelled at her retreating car, "Get back here for the raping you so richly deserve!" She grinned at me through the windshield, mischief evident in her large cerulean eyes. Dark hair framed her girlish mirthful face.

I hadn't seen that expression in ages. I missed it, but then again, I hadn't chased her down to ravish her in ages either. I missed that too. She sped off while I waved goodbye.

I watched her car accelerate holding the towel around me. I turned to finish my shower and noticed Mrs. Di Scala and her eight-year-old daughter gaping at me. I became intensely aware of my towel wrapped, shampoo suds running down my back, appearance. I cleared my throat uneasily, "Ah, good morning Mrs. Di Scala. Good morning Cathy."

Mrs. Di Scala frowned at me and said "Good Morning, Mr. Seabolt." She tugged Cathy's hand and they continued their sunrise stroll to the bus stop.

I said authoritatively, "Cathy, today in school you will learn something fascinating that will change your life!" Cathy turned and giggled at me. Her mother gave another tug.

"Ma?" She said in the universal complaint warble of children.

***

In the evening, Rachel and I walked through the Hilton hotel's shiny marble, polished wood and brass lobby with uniformed employees marching purposely about. We each carried an overnight bag and painfully clutched each other's hand. I walked up to a smartly dressed perky receptionist and announced that I attended the Strategic Information Technology Conference. I filled out a card and paid for one night.

I received two plastic keycards to room 321. I looked at the room number and thought 'countdown'. I laid one plastic key card in Rachel's trembling hand. I wrote 321 on the other and put it in my breast pocket.

Rachel looked up to me with anxious candor, "Are you sure you want this Chance?" I studied people entering the hotel and breathed deeply, calming myself. I grasped her slender arms and gazed deeply in her eyes, eyes that could immobilize me in fascination when we first met. "Yes, Rachel, I'm sure."

She looked down and nodded her head. I took her overnight bag from her and dropped it on the floor. I hugged her close and whispered in her ear, "I love you Rachel." I kissed her full lips, but she responded distractedly.

I parted from her, picked up her bag and handed it to her. "You better get going." I perused her as she walked to the elevator, her rounded buttocks moved enticingly under her black slip dress. She pressed the button, the elevator dinged immediately and the door opened wide for her. She stepped in, worriedly glanced at me and half-heartedly waved. I smiled and nodded at her as the elevator door closed, swallowing Rachel.

They waited in the hotel lounge, five reasonably handsome men between the ages of 30 and 45, and the group facilitator. The facilitator recognized me and waved. Her long dark hair cascaded past her shoulders. I approached the group with trepidation and scenes with Rachel kept claiming my attention as I interacted with the group.

Rachel, studying in the library with opened books haphazardly stacked around her; she had been at it for hours. I knew because I watched her enter. I approached her and said my practiced line, "Excuse me, I've had a horrible day and you could turn it all around if you went to dinner with me right now."

She gazed up bleary eyed, examined me for a moment, dazedly looked at her books. She smiled warmly at me and said, "I'd love to, but I absolutely have to be back in an hour."

Decorum stopped me from howling in victory.

I closed my eyes and reopened them in the Hilton. I curiously scanned the excited flushed men; one of them had his arm around the buoyant facilitator who looked up at me with sparkling black eyes. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall. She wore a tight red skirt that ended mid thigh and a sheer white blouse. "Hello, I am Susan." she said warmly and held out her hand when Rachel intervened...

I kissed Rachel on our wedding day. In that one kiss in front of our friends and family, I wanted to express the joy she ignited in me. Rachel chose me as her lifelong companion and I longed to show her that at twenty-six, I felt I already won the game of life.

Returning, I responded to Susan distractedly "Ah, hi, I am Chance." I met five men after Susan, shaking hands and nodding in nervous, friendly banter. Doug, a brown-eyed man with an affected, pompous air asked, "Chance like the dog?"

"Yeah, it's short for Chancellor."

His eyebrows rose, "I see why you shortened it." The group laughed pleasantly and Rachel pulled me away...

Rachel lay in a hospital bed, sweaty faced and exhausted. A nurse laid Emily, our first child, on her chest and Rachel glowed with joy. I had watched Rachel sacrifice for Emily. She went without, her body swelled and strained, her moods went haywire, she suffered her last trimester in the stifling heat of summer, she couldn't find a comfortable way to sleep, she labored for eleven hours, she cried and bled and clutched my hand tight enough to bruise and miraculously from her body, our Emily emerged, a new life.

Rachel cooed, loving Emily, the source of so many trials. She held Emily up and said, "Chance, isn't she gorgeous?" I nodded; I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat. My eyes swam with shockingly fierce pride in Rachel, my wife.

I painfully snapped back to the Hilton. Susan spoke, "Well we're all here, let's get started." Susan held up a brown paper bag and said "Honey, why don't you go first?" The man holding her nodded and I drifted back to a dark time...

I found Rachel nervously rocking on our bed with a thermometer pinched in her fingers. She stonily said, "He has another fever." David, our second and last was almost two years old and had been having fevers on and off for the previous month.

The ailment baffled physicians, but he had been fever free for a whole week to Rachel's rising relief and then another fever mercilessly crushed her. She rose from the bed, "God damn it!" She flung the thermometer, shattering it against the bathroom door. "Why can't those jack-asses figure it out?" She asked plaintively.

"Chance, what are we going to do?" She broke down. Her sobs wracked her entire body. I scooped her up and held her tight. I poured soothing powerless words into her gaping wound. I didn't know what else to do and I would have done anything, anything to heal her.

I sighed in pain gaining the group's attention. I cleared my throat and shook my head clear. "Sure, " Susan's husband Scott said in a small, but appreciated act of mercy -- to distract the group while I recovered. He dropped a key card into the bag. Susan turned to me holding out the bag. I pulled the 321 key card from my breast pocket and stared at it remembering...

Rachel wore a psychotic grin while I made love to her. I tried to ignore it, but that proved very difficult. Nevertheless, as I approached climax, she snorted loudly and finally a gush of giggles bubbled out of her. I glared down at her, "No more wine for you."

"Did you see the look on that waiter's face?" She wailed and shook the bed with her howls of laughter. With a sigh, I lay down beside her, clasped my hands behind my head and stared up at the ceiling waiting for her hysterical laughter to abate. Moments later, I realized a grin somehow snuck onto my face.

My grin fell on return to the Hilton. I pinched the key card tightly between thumb and forefinger. The group all stared at my hesitation. I studied the five candidates carefully. If I dropped the keycard, one of them would enter room 321 and find my Rachel. I meant to beg off, but another memory came to the fore...

Two weeks previous, Rachel and I went to a half-hour parent/teacher conference on Friday, our love making night. After, I lay next to her and unenthusiastically stroked her arm. She said, "That Parent/Teacher conference wiped me out, can we do it next week."

"Sure," I said and rolled over in relief. I remembered the previous excuses. The week before it was a three-hour movie, and the week before that, Emily had an early softball game. I couldn't remember the last time we made love and a desperate ache settled in my chest.

Rachel slipped through my fingers and descended into the grab bag. "Tonight one of you sons of bitches is the luckiest man on the planet." I rasped.

"Hear, hear." Scott said. Perhaps Scott would pull Room 321 and fuck my Rachel all night long.