Anne Rice by Exit to Eden

Author:Exit to Eden [Eden, Exit to]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

17 — Lisa

Obsession: Twenty-four Hours

I was sitting there, just staring at them as though they were living things in stead of two large, dirty canvas suitcases with the keys in the locks, and the forbidding little documents case on top. I had the impulse to hide them in th e closet, or under the lace skirts of the bed.

It was twelve o’clock. The breakfast tray was cold, untouched. And I was sti ll sitting against the pillows, in my nightgown, drinking a second pot of co ffee. I hadn’t slept four hours all night. I’d tried to sleep between 10 and 11 a.m. when I knew he was in the classroom with tall, dark, handsome Scott because I couldn’t stand the thought of it. But jealousy doesn’t make you s leep. It makes you lie awake and stare.

Yet I didn’t feel bad now. That was something I was just beginning to realize .

The fact was, I felt better than I had in years and years. I could not rememb er ever feeling precisely the way I did now. Or could I? It struck me that we didn’t have enough words in the English language to describe excitement. We needed at least twenty to get the nuances of sexual feeling, and then this so rt of excitement, this being swept up and out of yourself and into an obsessi on, this combustible mixture of ecstasy and guilt. Yes, obsession, that’s the word for it.

And now there were the suitcases here, which hadn’t been easy to get.

Not enough to say, ‘This is Lisa and I want the personal possessions of Elli ott Slater. Bring them to my room.’ You don’t bring slaves’ clothing and per sonal possessions into the compound. You don’t just send for the documents c ase. This stuff is strictly confidential, the private belongings of the pers on whom the slave becomes when he finally leaves here.

And who set up all these rules? You guessed it.

But I’d managed it, by a little mixture of lies and logic. After all, I have my reasons and I shouldn’t have to explain things. And the bags had been unpa cked, hadn’t they, inventoried and the clothes hung up in plastic bags with m othballs, right? So what’s the big secret? I have very personal and urgent re asons for requesting all the personal possessions of Mr. Elliott Slater. I wi ll sign for everything in full, including his cash and documents. Pack it up and bring it here.

One of those waves of desire was coming again, something like a scorching wind. I wanted him so badly. I wrapped my arms around my waist and bent over, tensing, waiting for it to pass. And I found myself remembering, qu ite abruptly, the early high school years when I had known these same ago nizing waves of sexual hunger, and they had seemed purely physical and th ere was no promise of consummation, no promise of love. Ugly memories of feeling freakish, like I carried a secret within me that made me an outcast.

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