Nanny in Seattle, part 19

The once beautiful woman stares at me in disdain.

It is true what she just spitted at me. I don't know him. At all. I feel torn apart. When I look at this Amy, his girlfriend, gaunt but gorgeous - and see the room with the naked vicious looking man asleep on the dirty mattress and when I hear the echo in my head of her words; "he brings me...things", I can only think of bad things. Eddie the Dealer, Eddie who pushes his girlfriend to use dope. But then I see him in my minds eye; his lovely, shy smile and I almost feel his embrace, his breathing in my ears - and I know, my gut tells me so, that Eddie is an angel and that I love him, rightly so.

"I'm sorry, Amy." I say after a while. "You're right. I don't know him. But I want to, because I love him."

I can see the look in Amy's face changing.

"Yes." She almost whispers. "You should."

She puts on a dress. Sleazy, with a leopards print. She notices my look.

"Yeah, I know. Such a cliché, right? I wasn't always like that."

"When did you start using?" I ask hesitant.

"Off and on." She laughs bitterly. "Maybe 10 years now."

"So before Eddie and you...?"

"Experimented? Yo, bitch. You think he pushed me? He thinks he did." She snarls.

"But why does he thinks so?"

"Because I use him. That's why!"

"But how can you? He loves you." I exclaim.

"No, he doesn't. He feels guilty. That's all. And I feed him to feel guilty." She suddenly has this cruel look on her face. "But now I'm loosing him. Some holy, needy nanny is pushing me away."
She points her finger at me. Her watery eyes like daggers suddenly.

"Needy?" I ask.

"Yo, girl! Drowning, virgin, hot, unavailable nanny from heaven. You're playing him well."

"I don't play with him."

"No? Well, I think you do. Now give me what's in your pocket, bitch. Enough with the talk."

Before I see her gaze shifting to a point behind me I hear a rustle and feel something sharp pressing against my throat. Someone grabs me around my waist, a chocking sour smell engirdles me and I feel the stubbles on the chin of Amy's companion scraping against my cheek.

"So...pretty Mary, give me that methadone, your money and your car keys. Yea. Saw that beauty outside. Reckon it's yours."

I suddenly think of Oliver alone in the Porsche. Waiting. Vulnerable.

"No! I only have the methadone. Please leave me my car."

"The keys. Or I'll cut you up a bit." The point of his knife teasingly traces my jawline while Amy plucks the little plastic bag out of my pocket.

He licks my neck, right under my ear and whispers:
"Pretty, clean, innocent chick...Eddie's new girl...we can't lose him to her, can we Amy? Our sugar daddy. Let's roughen her up a bit. So he don't want her no more."

While he still holds me in a tight grip he sticks the knife between the waistband of my jeans and rips it open.

I cry out and at the same time I hear a vicious roar.

"Get your filthy hands off her."

From the corner of my eyes I see a flash of a longhaired, lean bodied person storming towards us. His beautiful face twisted with anger and fear.

"Eddie." I scream.

The man, Amy and me crash to the ground followed by screaming and fighting. I see the reflex of metal, hear a surprized outcry of pain.
Then someone elbows me in the head and before I lose consciousness I hear a voice calling.

"Police, drop the knife."

I sit on my knees and have a severe pain in my head.  I can't see well. When I touch my forehead my fingers turn bloody. I can feel I have cut my brow.

Two policemen are holding the man to the ground - cuffing him - Amy sits in a corner, rocking her body back and forth while another officer, together with a ambulance nurse, is bended over the motionless body of Eddie.

Eddie!

I crawl towards him.

He just lies there, in a puddle of blood. His eyes are open. He sees me. And he smiles. He smiles that dimply smile and his mouth forms my name...

Then his eyes close.
"Noooo. Eddie stay with me...Eddie don't die!"
The policeman pushes me away, someone supports me - Oliver - comforts me, while medics haul Eddie up a stretcher and carry him away.
All seems to happen in slow motion and the speed of light at the same time.

Then. Total silence. Only the sound of someone crying.

Me.

Nanny in Seattle, part 18

I can't sleep.
I sit in my boxer and a tee, I nicked from Eddie, and stare into the night.

The contours of the furniture is outlined by the city lights. The only sound is a faint rush of nightly traffic. A cat lies beside me on the loveseat. I stroke it, deep in thoughts.

Why don't we talk?

I keep asking myself.

Why do we act as if we have no time to lose, which only makes us lose more time. Time together.

Go with Chad.

Chad.

Chad who quietly walks towards me. He holds out his hands.

"Baby, can't you sleep?" He asks with his warm loving voice.

I take his hands and get up.

"No. It is all so fucked up."

Chad sighs and then hugs me.

"Come to bed."

He folds back the duvet and I slide under it. The bed is warm and comfortable.

Chad gets in beside me and I curl up against him, my head on his broad shoulder.

Dear understanding Chad. I love him so much.

Behind me a soft whisper.

"Are you okay?"

She rolls over and strokes my hair.
Ivy.
How I love them both.

Go back to Chad, Eddie said with this tired voice. And then he slammed the door behind him. Out of my life again.

He should have said go back to Chad and Ivy.

But how would he know.

We never talk.

"Good morning my lovely wives." Chad says in a cheerful tone. "Breakfast is served in the kitchen."

Ivy throws a pillow at him.

"Don't you get any ideas." She laughs.

"You!" she points at me. "Get out of my bed. He might get used to this."

I laugh but then I pull a face.

"Talking about ideas." I say. "I have to see him. Talk to him. And her. I have to find her. Sort things out."

Chad and Ivy look at each other. I can tell they worry.

"Can't you just forget about him?" Ivy asks.

"I can't."

"Where will you go?"

"Back to Seattle. I'll skip classes. I'll make it into an art project. Finding Amy." I make the sign of exclamation marks.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Chad asks the following day.

"No thanks, love. I'm very grateful you asked your parents. Now I can stay in your old apartment up their garage! I'm taking my surfboard too. It will be like a vacation."

I throw my kitbag in the back of my car and after giving Ivy and Chad a bear hug I drive away.

At the gas station I fill my beauty up, a vintage Porsche given to me by one of my dad's colleagues, an old guy who now lives in retirement on Vancouver Island.
Before I drive away I honk twice and the slim young boy with sleek blond hair hanging in his eyes comes out of the shop and seats himself at the passengers side.

"Are you up to it?" I ask the pale beautiful junkie.

"Yo, girl, I've got the methadone. I'm gonna find her for you." He says with a firm voice.

After he shot himself up during the show a couple of nights back, Oliver was brought to a young adult addiction centre by the technician or security guy Eddie had with him when he found me at the court of that venue. The guy turned out to be a real buddy and Oliver decided to try to stop shooting heroin.

I went looking for him together with Ivy and it wasn't very difficult since in Vancouver almost all the junkies are registered. I wanted to ask him about habits and stuff addicts do in order to find Amy. After talking to him - he still recognized me - he proposed to come with me. His parents lived near Seattle and he would very much like to go back home.

We had made a plan together how to find Amy.

We drive up a small alley between two seemingly empty warehouses.

"This is it, Oliver?"

"Like the dude said. Creeps the hell out of me though."

I park my car and get out.

Oliver stays in the car. In his situation it is better not to be confronted with users.

I take a small rusty stair to get to the steel emergency exit. The door is already slightly ajar so I have no trouble entering.

"Hello?" My voice echoes and I feel silly calling in an empty warehouse staircase.

But upstairs I can hear a faint rumour and I see an orange light reflecting on the crumbled walls.

I climb the stairs and on the third floor I see an open door and a group of people gathered around a fire.

They hardly look up when I enter the room. Mattresses everywhere. Dirty sheets, vomit, empty beer cans and the sweet smell of dope. Traces of heroin usage, like spoons, needles and torn young people with blank faces.

I kneel next to a young woman who sits with her head in her hands.

"Hi there, can you help me? I'm looking for a girl named Amy. She is supposed to be here. I'm a friend."

She looks up and laughs with a raspy sound.

"Listen Mary, you'd better leave Amy be."

But she points to another room.

The door is hanging in its hinges, so I rap on the post to make myself known before I enter.

In the room a man and a woman are post-coital tangled on a dirty mattress. They seem far away. The woman, a once beautiful brunette of about thirty, looks up when I kneel beside her.

I feel awkward in her naked presence, but I am determined to successfully conclude my quest.

"Hey," I whisper as not to wake the handsome Latino man with the long black curls and the hard, scull like face. "Are you Amy?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Lotte."
"Do you have some shit?"

"No, sorry. But I brought you this." I show the little plastic bag with methadone I have in my pocket. "Can we talk?" I put it back.

"Are you the nanny?"

A shock goes through me.

She knows who I am?

Her face changes.

"Yeah, he told me 'bout you."

"Wait... Do...you still see him?" I ask with an unsettling feeling.

"Yeah. He comes around. Brings me things."

"Things?"

"You know..."

It feels like someone kicks me in my stomach.

"Is he...is he your dealer?"

"You really know him well, don't you?" She spits. Gives me a loathing, dirty look.

Nanny in Vancouver, part 17

I stare at him.

My feelings are racing through me, but I already know which emotion is going to win.

And I can see it in his eyes that he knows too. His eyes are half closed and there is a slight smile on his face.

But if I do. If I do want him to fuck me. Oh, I know I do. But then? After? What then? The mind fuck? Do I want that too?

Slowly I shake my head.

He frowns.

The smile disappears from his face.

His fingers pluck at the fabric of his wet top. He pulls it. Suddenly rips it off and with a curse throws it in a corner of the room. I back away and feel the handle of the door against my spine.  I put my hand behind my back and grab the doorknob, push it down.

In two steps he moves to me, slams the door close and leans against it with one hand next to my head.

He looks down, his amazingly blue eyes under those furrowed brows seem to hypnotize me. A drop of sweat slowly seeks its path along the outline of his face, from his temple over his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs.

I close my eyes when the warmth of his mouth covers my lips. Gently he sucks on my bottom lip, but the urgency with which he grinds his crotch against me makes every reluctance I might have felt go away.

I moan against his mouth, my tongue welcoming his. His skin under the palms of my hands is so smooth and almost feverishly hot. Every muscle on his seemingly skinny body feels hard. Like he can explode anytime. His touch is rough. He kneads my buttocks, the small of my back. He forces one leg between mine. Pushes me up against him. With one hand he pulls down my tights a bit so he can slide his fingers under the edge of my panties.

The rubbing of his calloused fingers makes me gasp his name.

It is a signal he was waiting for, because he lifts me up and carries me to the sofa in the corner of the dressing room. His mouth doesn't leave mine when he lays me down.

With trembling fingers I help him open the front of my dress. He peels the flower patterned fabric down from my shoulders, uncovering my upper body. The dress pushed down that way makes it impossible for me to move my arms. They are pressed against my body. Making me feel defenseless somehow, but excites me utterly. He kisses my collarbone and the part of my breasts that isn't covered by my bra. I can not lie still and move my hips against his, feeling his boner getting even harder and bigger.

He glides of the sofa to take of my boots and roll down my tights and panties. With a brooding look in his eyes he moves my knees apart and touches me between my legs. Without losing eye contact he starts stimulating me. The look on his face is so intense that I just have to close me eyes.

"Lotte...look at me."

He unbuttons his shorts and pulls them down.

Seeing him almost naked like this makes me catch my breath. He holds his cock and leans over me, rubbing it against the inside of my thigh.

"Eddie, wait."

His expression is that of disbelief.

"...I can't..."

"Just wait, you silly." I laugh as I try to get up and release myself of that dress.

Now I take the initiative and push him back on the sofa. I grab his penis and cup his balls with my other hand. Weighing them, playing with them. I can feel his heart pulsing in his hard but silken rod. Slowly I move my hand up and down over his length.

I bent over him.

"Let me taste you." I whisper and take him in my mouth.

I've never done this before, but I must be doing it right - because Eddie is panting and moaning and with his fingers he touches himself and my mouth - the way my lips and tongue pleasure him. He  claws my hair, the back of my neck, my shoulders.

"...oh jesus, Lotte..." He gasps.

He pulls me up. Positions me in a way that he can enter me. But he doesn't. I feel the pressure of the top against me, sliding in a bit, just a bit. But he moves away again.

"Eddie," I beg, "I want to feel you inside me....so bad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes...you jerk...fuck me, already!"

He just laughs and gets up, takes a condom from his pocket.

I'm standing on my knees on the sofa now, waiting while he rolls the rubber over his dick. His lovely hair hangs over his concentrated face. I stroke his round little butt. He is so...so pretty. I giggle.

He raises his brow and pulls me against him. He kisses me. Hard. Pushes me on my back and with one thrust he plunges himself into me. I cry out in surprise.

Eddie doesn't move. He just lies on top of me. Breathing heavy.
He fills me up, real deep, real pleasant. This is what I want. I almost purr.

"...shit...how I longed for you....for this...so much...." Eddie mumbles with his deep voice.

And then slowly, rhythmically he begins to screw me. His hands next to my hips, his hair stroking my body with every thrust. His eyes on me, blurred though.

With a crack the door opens and a head appears.

"Sorry, Eddie?"

"What!"

"Sorry, Ed. There's two people looking for a girl."

The guy looks at me, although Eddie tries to hide me from his vision.

"Fuck off!" Eddie yells at him.

"Is she here?" I hear a familiar voice.

Chad.

"Lotte?" Ivy sounds worried.

Eddie's expression gets distant. He retreats and hands me my dress.

"You'd better go."

He looks really angry.

"Eddie, no...I..."

He grabs his shorts and puts them on again. Walks to the door.

"Go with Chad, Lotte." He says with a tired voice before he leaves the room. Slams the door behind him.

In total silence I get dressed. Ivy looks at me. I can see she almost bursts with curiosity.

Chad just said he was going to get the car. He would see us later.

"We were so worried when you ran away from the show like that." Ivy says suddenly.

"I thought you would come back later. But when you didn't return...and even when the concert was over you were still gone...well ,Chad went to the management, asked around...they said the're quite a lot of junkies around....so it wasn't really safe for a girl alone...Lotte! What's with you and that singer!"

I just listen to Ivy babbling and wonder where Eddie might have gone.

Again he sends me back to Chad.

Shit.

Why don't we ever talk.

"Give me your lipstick," I say to Ivy.

And with big capital letters I write the words on the mirror of the dressing table.

I AM NOT AMY!