| Chapter 4 - Wrath Sometime or other I regained consciousness as someone held my face in his hands. "Linn, my dear! Linn, are you all right?" I hardly managed to open my eyes, the world around me still seemed a blur. I croaked: "Tyler?" "What of all things has happened? Have you been hurt?" Why did his voice sound so miserable and desperate? I struggled to keep my eyes open and when I looked down on me I realized that my wonderful gown was completely torn at the front, even the lingerie was totally ripped apart. My eyes filled with tears. "What has happened to me ... was the same thing that happened to you", I replied hardly audible, trying to wrap around me what was left of my dress. I shivered, feeling so cold and weak. "I'll kill that monster," exclaimed Tyler and there was a fierce gloom in his eyes, but his voice was broken: "Has he, I mean, has he ... raped you?" "Did he rape you?" I asked wearily. "You know that's the worst of all, he didn't have to use any force whatever..." I didn't continue, I didn't want to talk about the sheer rapture I had experienced in the arms of that fiend. It was such a shame to recall how he had made me writhe and scream ... I sobbed. Tears were running down my cheeks. And I cried all the more when I looked at Tyler's face which was full of sadness and understanding. He sighed and cradled me in his arms: "I know," he said. "Only too well, my love ..." *** Somehow Tyler managed to bring me back to the Palazzo, somehow we made up a sort of explanation why we had left so early and why my dress had been destroyed. I don't know whether our hosts believed the story we told them or whether they were simply too polite to bother us with nagging questions. We had both agreed that we would not mention those bizarre encounters to anyone else. Who would have believed us anyhow? And were these feeble explanations not only an attempt to justify something that both of us perhaps in a way had even encouraged? And had we not enjoyed it -- more than we were both willing to admit? And why, after all, didn't we leave the city the next day? Why? This is a question I have asked myself countless times since then. But the fact is, we stayed. In the first days after the ball I was simply too weak to leave even our room. I felt ill, feverish, but I wouldn't hear of a doctor. Just let me sleep. Sleep and forget. But even my dreams were haunted. Again and again I saw that boy with the face of a Botticelli angel and again he was smiling when he looked down at me. "Why do you feel so miserable? You have been searching for me all your life. Why don't you admit that it's me you really want?" And I guess that was the truth behind everything. The reason why we didn't leave. The truth we both would not be prepared to acknowledge. There was nothing we feared more than that we might see him again. But on the other hand we could think of nothing else. *** After a week or so I felt better and we tried to get into a normal tourists' routine again. Let's pretend nothing has happened -- as if it was as easy as that! We started to see some churches, visit some museums, but often we only sat in one of the numerous cafés looking out on a square or on the water. Holding hands, lost in thought. We had not made love again after the incident at the ball. And even when I felt better we were both quite aware that something had changed in our relationship. The carefree exuberant happiness we had both shared before had given way to a painful feeling of guilt. There was still love between us, yes, of course, but it was mingled with a growing sense of estrangement. Once in front of a small church I believed having seen a wild mane of dark brown curls in the crowd of people in front of us. But, once more, my imagination had only played tricks on my over-nervous senses. During the whole time we never saw him again. "We must come to a decision," Tyler said one day after we had finished lunch in a small osteria. "We should leave, the Carnival's over." "Yes," I replied feebly. "That would be the best ... " "Linn, I know what you 're thinking. I can't get him out of my head either. I dream of him. I dream how he caressed me, how he ... made love to me." I sighed painfully. "Linn, I still love you," he answered. "That's not a lie. But even if I cannot forget what has happened, I don't want to be remembered of it continually." "You are right," I agreed finally. "If we want to leave this behind we must not stay here any longer. This place is tainted with memories." And so we decided to leave on the next morning. Our hosts had already perceived that something had changed between us, even if they could not make out the reason for it. Ever so often they tried to cheer us up and make our stay as pleasant and comfortable as possible. "Linn, what has taken place between you and Tyler?" Chiara asked sympathetically. "Cara mia, I am your friend, you can tell me." But I only shook my head. Lips pressed tightly. I could not talk about it and when she called me "cara mia" (my dear) I felt that painful longing again. Hadn't he said "cara mia" too? As a special event for our last evening it was agreed that we should all go to see a long-awaited exhibition opening that night showing works of unknown Renaissance painters. *** The gallery was crowded with the usual stylish people you find on occasions like this. And the paintings were indeed spectacular. I was so happy to see that spark of enthusiasm in Tyler's eyes again when he gave me explanations on the various pictures. Some of the artists, however, were unknown even to him. "Just look at this one," he caught my arm." "This is marvellous. It's odd that I've never heard of this painter -- Marius, quite an unusual name. Must have been Mario, but maybe he wanted to show his affiliation with the antique Roman tradition. The catalogue says that this painting was recovered from the vaults below an ancient Palazzo near the Canale Grande. It was severely burnt and it took extensive reconstruction work to restore to its present form. It's really a strange work, full of mysterious details." "Yes, exactly, and look at the angel's faces," someone remarked beside me. I turned my head and met those mystifying dark brown eyes again. "You!" exclaimed Tyler and grabbed him by the shoulders. The boy did not even wince. Instead he gave Tyler a full kiss on the mouth and smiled. "Do you still wish to kill me, my friend?" Then he put his arm around my waist and said: "I have treated this graceful lady with incredible rudeness. Please forgive me. But when I saw you I was overwhelmed, not only by your beauty, but also by memories that suddenly came to life again ..." And whispering seductively in my ear he added: "Next time, I will be more gentle. I promise". "Who do you think you are?" Tyler cried out furiously. "You abominable bastard! First you play your dirty tricks on us and then you show up as if nothing happened at all. I could kill you!" "Ah, such an angry young man," the boy remarked amused, as if nothing could impress him at all. "I love people who don't get frightened so easily. His voice was soaked with irony: "But really, Tyler, "dirty tricks"? Did I treat you that badly?" Tyler blushed. But before he could go on with his rants, the boy put his arm around Tyler's shoulders, too, and put on his most charming face. "No more accusations this evening! I know I am a terrible person. Please forgive me. To make up for my impossible behaviour I want you to be my guests tonight." I cast Tyler a questioning glance. "Oh, come on," the young man smiled. "You will see that I am not such an abominable "monster". But if it makes you more at ease, I swear that I will not touch either one of you ..." "But we do not even know your name", I remarked faintly. "A name, but what is a name?" he asked as if this was a most unusual request. "But if you must have a name. Call me ... Armand". |
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