One More chance for Lost Love

"Eric? She's talking to you."

  "What would you like to drink, sir?"

  Eric snapped back to reality. He looked at his wife, Kathyrn, and then at the waitress waiting for him to tell her what he'd like to drink. "Um, I apologize; uh, water, no ice, with two lemon wedges, please."

  "Water, no ice, with two lemons, got it, and a Merlot for you, ma'am."

  "Thank you," Kathryn said. Once the waitress walked away, Kathryn looked at Eric, puzzled and studying. "Eric, what is going on?"

  Eric broke eye contact. "Nothing (lie); I'm just exhausted from working on that immigration bill (partial lie)."

  Kathryn gave him a sympathetic smile, "You need to collect yourself. You have that Fox News segment in a couple of hours."

 Eric met Kathryn's smile with a smile (fake) of his own. "I know. I'll be ready." 

 Kathryn reached across the white linen table, grabbed Eric's hands, and massaged them with her fingers. "I am so proud of you. I am excited that my husband is moving up the food chain in the Republican Congress. I bet with some good moves and endorsements, you'll be in the running for Speaker of the House—wait, scratch that, President-Eric-Kline!"

  Eric laughed, "Whoah, let's just focus on ordering dinner right now."

  "You know I love Congressman or not, president or not, I'm here for you because I love you," Kathryn said, her blue eyes filled with sincere admiration for her husband.

  "I love you too (lie)."

  After Eric finished the interview with the Fox News talking heads, which was the usual softballs and nothing with so much as a rebuttal about Eric's support in having Roe v. Wade overthrown and how being pro-life was not only his life's work but also his duty as an American Christian and patriot, he took off his suit and tie and finished gulping down the rest of his glass of Johnnie Walker Scotch whisky.

  The Scotch burned deep in his gut and took Eric's breath. He collected himself and changed into khaki-colored jeans, a camo baseball cap with the Thin-Blue-Line American flag patch embroidered on it (a gift from the police chief of Austin, Texas), and a Bucky's T-shirt. He avoided Kathryn, who was busying herself on her laptop, and did not notice him leaving out of the backdoor to their barn. Once there, he got into his Massimo ATV and drove off towards the forest of pecan and post oak trees.

  It was a beautiful evening in North Central Texas. The sunset painted the distant Texas horizon with bright blue, pink, and orange hues. The sunflowers he passed let out their fragrance into the summer air, and Eric felt as though they were watching him as he drove past their rows. Eric's heart thumped with anticipation as he drove through his forested trail, which led to the part of his acreage that the Nolan River ran through. 

  Eric's heart was on a mission to see her again, to see if what he saw the day before was real or if it was some cruel trick of memory and hope of love lost and love found again. He felt crazy and full of hope despite the idea that he could just be going crazy. The thought that he was slipping into some psychosis crossed his mind, but Eric's heart's faith to find her again overrode the notion that he just may be going mad.

  Eric's cell phone began to vibrate. Before looking at the screen, he knew it was Kathryn. Disappointed, Eric answered the call.

  "Hey."

  "Hey you, where d ya go?"

  "I'm, uh, I'm out back just taking a ride and trying to clear my head for a minute."

  "Oh, okay. Well, dinner is gonna be ready in just a few minutes. I'm heating up the chicken enchiladas Consuela made for us."

  "Okay, I'll be there in just a bit."

  "Hurry, love, the enchiladas smell so yummy!"

  "Okay, I can't wait (another lie)." Eric hung up and continued walking from where he had left his ATV to the Nolan. His heart had to know that he'd not been dreaming. Eric turned his phone off. He did not want any more disruptions from anyone, especially Kathryn,

  Eric came to the edge of the Nolan. The moon's reflection flirted with the river's face. A small bass lept out of the steady river, making a meal of a low-flying dragonfly. Lightning bugs flashed yellow as they flew along the river and the forest while cicadas hummed their chaotic symphonies. 

  Then, a large splash happened, and the cicadas became silent, and the lightning bugs stopped flashing. Eric stood holding his breath, not wanting to scare her away, hoping it was her in the water. Then something (her), his mermaid, began to form a wake as it swam underwater towards the bank, towards Eric. His heart began to beat tattoo in his chest with anticipation. Her head came up out of the river water. The magic of the moment overwhelmed Eric.

  She stayed at the water's edge half submerged. She smiled at Eric, the same smile that melted him when he was sixteen and in love with this girl. He longed to join her in the water and never come back up for air. 

  Eric worked up the courage to speak to her to this angel of the river. "Marisol, is it really you?"

  She shook her head 'yes,' never breaking eye contact or letting her smile fade.

  "How?"

  "Because of my love for you."

  "Can I touch you?" 

  "Yes, I want that more than anything."

  Eric reached out to touch her face, and Marisol stood from the water, leaned into his hand, and seemed to purr with the caress of his hand as he stroked her face. Marisol's beauty, with the thrum of love, lost almost twenty years ago, found again aroused his heart and libido.

  Marisol emerged from the water, clothed only in moonlight and shadow, and embraced Eric. They started kissing, and hungry hands began to explore each other's bodies.

  The love they made transcended the voids of the past, in-between, and now. They flowed through rivers and constellations until, at their climax, they came back to the soft grassy bank of the Nolan River.

  The lovers, ghost, and man, lay next to each other. Eric fought to catch his breath.

  "Oh god, that was an experience."

  "Yes, it was," she said between slow, deep kisses on Eric's chest and neck. She stopped, hid her face from his, and let out a low sob.

  Connected to Marisol's emotions, the forest, its inhabitants, and the river took on a lugubrious state. The cicadas' cacophony became mournful, and a large, great-horned owl began to join them with broken-hearted hoots. 

  "What's wrong?"

  "I can't talk about it," she sighed.

  Eric rolled over to his side and brushed her long brown hair from her eyes. "What is it, baby? Please tell me. I have missed you so much and have dreamed and prayed so many times that I would be given this chance I'm having right now."

  "I know. I felt your desire; it gave me the energy to return." Marisol paused to kiss him and draw his lower lip deep into her mouth. "There's a way I could stay, but it would require more than you're willing to do."

  "You could stay forever, you mean? I don't understand, how?" 

  Marisol gave Eric big brown doe eyes, "It would require a sacrifice." She shook her head, and tears began to flow; branches of the pecan and live oak trees groaned, "And I could never ask you to do what that would mean."

  "I would do anything," Eric kissed Marisol this time, "Besides, after, well, after the accident, I've always wished I could-"

  Marisol pointed a finger to his lips, and he began to cry, "Shush, it wasn't your fault."

  "You told me to stop drinking, and then you told me to slow down, and I didn't listen," Eric stuttered out through tears of bloodguiltiness. "So, if I can fix this, give you life again, and have you back in my life, I would do anything."

  Marisol looked deep into his eyes, "Anything?"

  Eric came through the back door and walked into the kitchen. Kathryn was washing some dishes, ignoring his presence. She was not happy to have had to dine alone again. Although Kathryn did her best to be a good wife, not a bitcher, her mother was a bitcher, and that drove her father away. Kathryn had determined that when she found a good man and married him, she would show love and compassion, not badger or act miserable around him, but that ethos was frazzling. 

  "Hey, did you wait for me to eat?"

  "No, Eric, you've been gone for two hours. I tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail." She turned to face Eric. He looked disheveled, with dirt and leaves covering his t-shirt and jeans. "What were you doing rolling around on the ground or something?"

  Eric chuckled, "Yeah, sort of (almost the truth)." He walked to Kathyn and gave her a hug; at first, she resisted him, but she let her guard down after half a minute. She sighed deeply, craving her husband's affections for months, and returned the hug. 

  Kathryn and her therapist had been discussing their marriage's lack of intimacy for several months. Kathryn tried several approaches that her therapist suggested, along with some she learned from watching various YouTube videos centered on rekindling marital flames. Still, she only failed to get the responses of love she hoped for.

  Kathryn was patient with Eric. This was, after all, his second year in Congress, and his first-year shine had worn off. He was being blasted left and right on social media platforms for his support in ending Roe v. Wade and for leading the way to tighter voter laws, not to mention the many TV appearances and campaign events that kept Eric traveling all over the United States. Kathryn tried to understand how overworked Eric must be.

  "I thought we could go out by the river and fool around."

  "Are you serious? Do you want me to wear something special?" she asked with seductive blue eyes, stroking his crouch with her hands.

  "No." Eric gave her a devilish smile, "You'll be fine without anything on at all." Kathryn blushed.

  Eric and Kathryn made small talk during the ATV ride back to where Eric had left Marisol. Kathryn snuggled up as close as she could to Eric, whispering tantalizing words of built-up passion into his ear. 

  Kathryn noticed that Eric seemed distant but considered that she may be overanalyzing her husband. With that in mind, she determined she would put the past few months behind her and enjoy this moment with Eric. She wanted this to be special, to put them back on track, and she wouldn't let herself over-thinking ruin it.

  "We're here," Eric said as he shut down the ATV, unbuckled his seatbelt, and exited. He walked around to Kathryn and helped her out of the vehicle.

  "Should I undress here," Kathryn asked, her voice heavy with passion.

  "Yes."

  "Okay," she smiled at Eric and undressed. Once she was done, she asked him if he would also undress. Eric smiled and did so. Kathryn's hormones were afire with love for her husband. "I'm so excited," she giggled.

  "Me too (for once, he told the truth). Now, c'mon, let's go."

  "Won't we need a blanket or something?"

  "Do you think Adam and Eve fucked on a blanket?"

  Kathryn laughed, "Um, no."

  "Okay, then let's go." Eric led his wife (the lamb) to the river.

  When Kathryn and Eric got to the edge of the Nolan, the night sounds of the river and forest were silenced.

  "Eric, something feels off." Kathryn put her hands to her nose. Jesus, something smells rotten out here, and there's something wrong with how quiet it's gotten. I really want to make love to you. Can we please go back to the house? We can make love in the backyard."

  "What do you mean, 'Something smells rotten?' It smells wonderful, and everything's gone quiet because we're here."

  Kathryn gave Eric a look as if he had squirrels running out of his ears, "You seriously don't smell that, that rotten shit smell?" Before Eric could answer, twigs snapped somewhere in the forest behind her. "Eric, did you hear that?"

  "Hear what Kathryn?"

  Kathryn looked back to Eric, and the smile on his face and how he looked past her and into the dark woods behind her made her skin crawl. Eric's eyes were glazed, and his mouth was shaped like he was rooting after the Houston Texans scored a touchdown. More twigs snapped, and Kathryn spun around in time to see a young, naked Hispanic girl charging toward her. Kathryn did not have time to react as the girl was on her like a jaguar, slamming her to the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her. She regained her breath in time to feel the girl, this human animal, bite deep into her stomach. Kathryn screamed in pain.

  "Eric, oh god, Eric, please help me!" Eric did not move. He stayed in the same spot, a macabre statue of excitement. "Eric! Help!"

  The creature tore into her abdomen now with her hands and nails and began to shred until Kathyrn watched as her bowels were torn from her belly. The pain stopped, and she could feel herself gasping for air, and she could taste blood. The last thing Kathryn saw was her husband, a young Republican Congressman who she just knew would be President of the United States and whom she loved with all of her heart, standing there indifferent to her suffering, to her death.

  Marisol feasted on Kathryn's liver, the sweat meat of her kidney, and finished with her broken heart. She got up, blood and sinewy flesh painting her naked body, and sashayed her way to the hypnotized Eric. She kissed Eric deeply, smearing his wife's blood and bits of flesh across his face.

  "Eric, baby," Marisol said in a mocking voice as her hands found their way to Eric's erect manhood, "I have a secret to tell you."

  Eric looked at Marisol; he felt a high in his life he had never felt before, his manhood intoxicated by Marisol's caressing. He closed his eyes in ecstasy. Eric was ready to make love to Marisol all over again. He would do it on Kathryn's cooling body if Marisol wanted it. Eric did not care where they had sex, only that he was inside Marisol and quenching his fire. 

  Then, he was snapped back to reality for the second time in Eric's day: Eric heard the sound of his flesh ripping before he felt the pain; he fell to his knees and then on his back. He howled in pain; somewhere in the distance, coyotes howled with him. 

  Marisol stood over Eric, watching him as he held onto the new gash between his legs. He mouthed 'why' to her, not being able to speak from the air in his lungs being sucked out from the sheer pain of being gelded just seconds before. Marisol straddled herself across Eric's chest, pinning him, and looked upon him with a hyena's smile.

  "Why," Eric gargled, choking on foamy blood from him, biting his tongue almost in half when Marisol had castrated him.

  "Why? Oh, you simple-minded creature, to escape Hell, of course."  

  Eric looked at her. He tried to say something, but Marisol covered his mouth with hers again, and this time, she bit his lower lip off. Eric wailed from the pain. 

  "I'm afraid I have a big secret to tell you. I'm not your Marisol, and whoever she was, she's long gone, but your grief, guilt, and heartache helped give me the energy to escape. I used you."

  "You bitch!"

  "Yes, I suppose I am, but thank you for helping me gain my freedom."

  The demon opened its mouth so wide that Eric heard its jaw hinges snap, and sharp, bloody, jagged teeth shot from its gums, and she slammed into him. The last thing Eric saw was the lifeless body of Kathryn, his wife, the woman who had loved him, the woman he betrayed. 

  The forest and the creatures that occupied it began their music again while Marisol, the incubus, finished her meal. After she had eaten her fill, she waded into the river and washed the blood and gore from her face, hair, and body and drank from the dark water of the Nolan. 

  Hunger and thirst were new sensations to her, and being a 'her' was a new concept. She laughed at herself and said, "Marisol." She did not pick the name, but she would use it anyway. A name could always be changed should the need occur.

  This was the beginning of a free life—a life free of the politics and backbiting of Heaven and Hell. She was proud of herself for having pulled off her great escape. Marisol had always heard from other demons and angels that men were gullible and stupid creatures who could be swayed by the slightest temptations. She never thought it would be this easy. 

  She walked to the house that once belonged to a prominent young Republican Congressman and his wife, curious about how they lived and what items they owned to marvel over. The coyotes that had sung earlier in the distance passed her on their way to pick through the scraps Marisol had left behind. They paused to acknowledge Marisol's presence and disappeared into the dark forest.

  The following day, Marisol, the incubus, a stranger in a new world, began her new life, ready for the adventures that would come. She only needed to find a road that led to a city — a city of gullible men who would do her bidding and satiate her appetite for flesh and life.