Taxi To Paris Part 11

"A woman!" I snorted contemptuously. "She is a -". How could I explain it to her?

Karin looked rather irritated. "Well, of course she's a woman, and it doesn't matter much what else she is, now does it?"

"Yes." I just couldn't hold my own against her logic. "Yes, she's undoubtedly a woman. And what a woman!" I made another contemptuous gesture.

"So what did she do to you that's making you so mad at yourself?"

At first I didn't quite hear what she'd said, but then it sank in. "Mad at myself? At the very most, mad at her!" What did I have to do with it? I hadn't done anything wrong, had I?

"No, I don't believe that. I know how you act when you're mad at someone else. That doesn't make you flip out like this. You only do that when you think you've made a terrible mistake." She'd made her diagnosis of me.

Reluctantly, I had to admit she was right. "What else is it but a terrible mistake to fall in love with a woman who..." I couldn't say it out loud. I might be able to think it, but I couldn't say it.

"You're jealous," Karin stated without another word from me. "Did she cheat on you with another woman?"

"With one?" I laughed bitterly.

Karin looked at me with interest. "It sounds like she's some sort of nymphomaniac."

"She's no nymphomaniac." Even I didn't think that. "She's a prost.i.tute." Now it was out!

"Oh." She was surprised, but not particularly shocked. "That's a new one."

"Is that all you have to say about it?" I poured out my despair for her to see, and she just found it "new"?

Karin looked at me empathetically. "But you said she cheated on you with other women. Doesn't she sleep with men, too?" She hesitated. This was all rather "new" to her as well! "I mean ... professionally?"

Although I thought I'd gotten used to it, the word took on a new feeling of obscenity in this context.

"No," I replied dismissively. "As far as I know, no."

Karin put one and one together in her head. "That means she's a prost.i.tute for women?"

"Yes." In that time, I'd gotten used to the topic again. "That's what she is: a prost.i.tute for women."

Karin let out a whistle. "I've heard that there is such a thing, but somehow I could never quite believe it. That there's enough demand for such a thing..." She discussed it like an economics exercise. A simple matter of supply and demand.

"Oh, yeah," I a.s.sured her bitterly. "The demand is greater than you think."

"Excuse me, please." Karin looked at me sympathetically again. "I'm handling it like an abstract problem, but of course for you it's very concrete."

"No it isn't," I denied stubbornly. "Not any more."

She smiled understandingly. "So you're getting all upset about nothing, right?"

I flared. "Oh, if you only knew ... that's not nearly all!"

"Okay," she said, leaning back comfortably in her chair. "So tell me everything then."

At first, I didn't want to. There was just so much that I didn't understand myself. But then I slowly began to thaw under her understanding gaze. And I told her everything.

She listened quietly and let me talk. She didn't ask anything - she didn't want to question my view of things just yet. When I finished, she said, "Boy, you've been carrying a lot around with you!"

Although that didn't exactly help me at the moment, it calmed me straight off, and made my anger with myself easier for me to understand.

She went over to the stove and got us each a fresh cup of coffee. During this, she said nothing. She was thinking. After she sat down again, she said, "You're still in love with her."

She raised her hand to stop my protest before I could start. "And if I'm judging correctly - the way I know you - I'd even say that you really love her."

Now I couldn't say anything, because I was completely confused. How could she say that with such certainty? Something that was so wrong?

She smiled at me understandingly. "I remember your jealous streak well. It makes you completely irrational. After everything you told me, I don't believe her to be the woman you describe. Of course, I don't know her, and my experience with prost.i.tutes is rather limited," she laughed a little, "but in the end, I have no reason to defend her. Whether she will speak to you again after that confrontation, I'd have to bet not." Her conclusions were as logical as they were plausible. I had nothing with which to contradict them.

"I don't think so either. But a relations.h.i.+p like that never had a future anyway." That was, for me, irrevocably certain.

"That may be." Karin thought about it for a moment before continuing. "It's even probable. But that's still no reason to behave like a bull in a china shop." She looked at me with mild reprehension. "To put it mildly."

I was ashamed. All this churned inside me. The memories came rus.h.i.+ng back. Above all, the good memories. But I just wasn't ready to allow that. I shut them off.

My days with Karin were full of deep internal recovery. She knew me. She knew how I reacted to a relations.h.i.+p, and she'd fought her own battles with my jealousy when we were together.

I felt like she'd allowed me to bathe in her concern and sympathy. As my body began to relax, I realized how I'd been mistreating it. The sleep deprivation made itself noticeable, such that I sometimes slept through half the day as well as the night. The isolation of the cabin did me good as well. There was no telephone, no radio, no connection with the outside world beyond what we carried up on our backs and saw there with our own eyes.

The last evening, we opened the last bottle of wine that we'd tiresomely packed up there. Karin had planned everything so well, we'd be carrying nearly empty backpacks down the hill in the morning.

I still hadn't come to a decision. I said, "I know I won't be able stand it for any length of time to wonder constantly what she's doing. And I can't ignore it either."

Karin shook her head with annoyance at my obstinacy. "But that's not what a relations.h.i.+p is made of. With whom and how many one sleeps." She looked at me penetratingly. "Certainly not in this case, where it really doesn't mean anything."

"I know," I said. "You said that back then. But I can't change it. I'm jealous. I can't differentiate love from s.e.x." I laid my head in my hands and looked up at her. "So of course it had to happen to me: meeting a woman whose profession that is."

Karin laughed. "Serves you right. When I think about how much you drove me crazy in those days... I couldn't even look at another woman!"

"You don't have to do it when I'm standing right next to you, do you?" Why did I always have to repeat such self-explanatory things!

"When else could I have done it? We were almost always together." Karin looked at me good-naturedly. "I'm sure she doesn't look at other women on the street - for her job, does she?"

"No," I said distastefully. "She doesn't like to go out at all."

"I can understand that." Karin nodded. Then she laughed as a thought suddenly struck her. "That makes for a lovely little *in-house' relations.h.i.+p, doesn't it! That must really be your ideal!"

I didn't want to be convinced so easily. "Yes, but..."

"No *Yes, but...!" Karin let out a heartfelt groan. "She sleeps with other women. She's going to keep doing that. That's how she earns her living." I shuddered. Karin saw this and continued sympathetically, "But the most important thing is that you talk to each other, laugh with one another, sit in front of the television together and nibble on peanuts - those are the things that hold people together. Just doing the most mundane things together. Talking about what you want to cook for dinner, going shopping together, spending a lazy weekend together doing nothing but enjoying each other's company."

Karin looked at me probingly again. "That, for me, is the difference between an affair and a relations.h.i.+p. Of course, they have a basis in common. There has to be s.e.xual attraction involved, but how much of a relations.h.i.+p is s.e.x? Maybe five percent - ninety-five percent has to be filled with other things."

I protested with an energetic growl.

Karin laughed congenially. "Yes, I know, at the beginning it's more - a lot more. I still remember our first weeks very well." She grinned. Then she sobered again. "It's not the nights that you have to get through, it's the days." She leaned over and brushed the hair out of my eyes. "Would you like to sleep with me tonight?" she said amicably.

I looked at her in astonishment. I hadn't had the impression before now that she was interested in that. I hesitated. She'd done so much for me in the last few days, but I couldn't quite imagine thanking her in that way. But I didn't want to hurt her. I looked up at her. "I don't think that would be such a good idea," I said, hoping she wouldn't take it the wrong way.

She understood it completely. "Oh, that wasn't a s.e.xual offer," she corrected with a degree of self-confidence that I'd never achieve in these matters. "I just thought a little snuggling couldn't hurt."

I knew that was unusual for her. "So are you monogamous now?" I asked disbelievingly.

Karin laughed out loud. "You can't imagine that, can you?" She settled down again. "And you're right. I'm not monogamous." When she saw my reaction, she continued, "but that definitely doesn't mean that I constantly think about s.e.x and chase after every woman I see - particularly an ex-girlfriend, with whom the relations.h.i.+p ended because of her jealousy over my non-monogamy."

I had to swallow. "Still...," I said, although a little cuddling with her sounded like a very good idea.

"Still," she repeated earnestly, "you're faithful to her." My head shot up. I hadn't thought about that at all!

Karin said seriously, but with a smile in her eyes, "You say that you hate her. You never want to see her again. But you could never betray her." She came over to me and kissed me on the cheek. "You love her," she concluded gently.

I sat there, unable to move. She walked as far as the door, then turned around. "My offer still stands," she said, smiling. "And I swear by everything I hold sacred, I won't take anything away from her."

Chapter 19.

The next day, I returned to my apartment in a rather different mood than the one I had left it in. Nevertheless, I was still uncertain. It would surely take a couple of days before I could really absorb everything Karin had said to me up at the cabin. And then - what would I do then? I really didn't know. One thing was clear: I couldn't live with the situation as it stood. I would probably have to move to a different town. That was the easiest way.

Calmed somewhat, I went into the kitchen to put on some water for coffee. I already had the kettle in my hand when the phone rang. I'd made such a habit of not answering that I didn't react initially. It didn't stop. It made me nervous - for a number of reasons. Then it occurred to me that Karin had promised to call when she got home. I could already hear her admonishments if I didn't pick up, so I answered.

On the line, someone was breathing heavily. This time, I didn't even a.s.sume that it was a prank caller.

"What do you want?" I asked, more brusquely than I'd actually intended.

The breathing got louder. It sounded very labored. Suddenly, it got very quiet. Then, an unrecognizable noise came through the receiver. It went still again for a moment. From phone s.e.x to phone hara.s.sment? Perhaps she should've spent the weekend at the cabin with Karin!

"Say something," I said rather threateningly, "or else I'll hang up." I heard that strange noise again for a moment and then - suddenly - her voice.

"Please...," she said very softly.

Was that really her voice? It sounded like it was coming from a bas.e.m.e.nt or through a wad of cotton or both.

"Yes?" I asked expectantly, exactly like she'd sounded the first time I called her.

"Please," came from the receiver again, very quietly. "Can you come over?"

So soon? And Karin had thought she'd never even speak to me! Her breathing was still heavy. What was she doing over there?

I couldn't. Not that evening. I had to think about what had been going through my head for the past few days first.

"I just got home, not fifteen minutes ago," I said. "I didn't particularly want to go out again tonight."

Again came this unrecognizable noise - this time louder. No, it wasn't unrecognizable at all - it sounded like moaning!

"Please, help me!" What was going on? Could her desire for me be that strong?

"What's the matter?" I asked, irritated.

"Please, come," she whispered again, very weakly. Something was wrong there! The line was quiet. I didn't hear any more breathing, but she hadn't hung up either.

I waited awhile, then I hung up. What should I do now? Her voice had sounded very odd. Really desperate. On the other hand, I knew all about her talents in that area. What could I expect if I went to see her?

I walked slowly back to the kitchen. My disquiet grew. I couldn't just stay here. I had to know what was going on. And if she just wanted revenge - if she'd come up with some sort of payback for me - I'd notice soon enough.

I grabbed my jacket and walked hesitantly over there. I pushed the intercom b.u.t.ton for her apartment. She buzzed me in immediately. I took the elevator up. At her door, I hesitated. Then I laid my thumb on her doorbell. The door opened slowly. She was nowhere to be seen. I went in and looked around carefully. I turned around to close the door. Then I saw her.

She stood behind the door in a crumpled heap, barely supporting herself against the wall. She was wearing her black kimono, but she hadn't tied the belt. Underneath, she was naked. She hung her head. Then she looked up.

"My G.o.d!" I cried in horror. Her face was covered with blood; I couldn't even see her eyes. I leapt toward her and tried to support her. She moaned with terrible pain. "My G.o.d," I heard myself say again. I took her arms, trying to ignore her cries of pain. "Come," I said gently. "We've got to get you into bed." She groaned at every step. I opened the bedroom door and laid her down as carefully as possible. She was moaning awfully.

I looked at her and felt completely helpless. I sat down next to her on the bed. Even that slight motion elicited another whimpering sound from her.

I wanted to comfort her, but what could I do if everything hurt her?

"What happened?" I asked.

She tried to answer, but her lips were split open and grossly swollen. I motioned for her not to try.

"Leave it - that's not important now. I'll call an ambulance." I reached for the telephone on the nightstand.

"No!" she groaned firmly.

I didn't understand her. "But you absolutely have to go to the hospital. You need to see a doctor!"

She tried to speak again. "No hospital," she whispered laboriously. "No police."

I hadn't even thought about that. I'd certainly have to call the police as well. Why didn't she want that? She'd obviously been a.s.saulted.

"But be practical - I can't help you! You're seriously injured. Let me call an ambulance, please."

She shook her head laboriously, her face twisted in pain.

I was helpless. My medical knowledge did not extend beyond that little bit of ma.s.sage, and that definitely wouldn't help her now.

She lay there and moaned again. I had to do something. I called Karin.

"I just tried calling you three times," she greeted me cheerfully. "Were you sleeping again already?"

"No," I answered softly.