Oldtimer RP: Returning Part One
Koalabear
folk have written (repeatedly) to ask for the next and following parts.
All I can offer in response is excuses: my writing either flows or it
does not; my self-employment keeps me busy and not writing; other
stories rose from the infinite mind and insisted that I write them; I
sometimes procrastinate and often obfuscate. Pick any of the preceding
and I will accept whatever punishment is appropriate. Someday.... I
will continue the tale: but when that will be I cannot say.
Enjoy it for what it is, and thank you for your generous and kind
appreciation for my small body of prose.
RETURNING: Part One
It was Tuesday, about six-thirty in the evening, and Karen stared
at the phone, a fixed and purposeful stare that she hoped would
overcome her hesitation and fear. She so wanted to pick up the
handset and dial, but her hand would not move. She got up, then
walked to the kitchen sink, and drew a glass of water. Drinking
the water helped somewhat to clear the big lump in her throat, but
it did nothing about the phone.
Two hours later, Karen was still circling the phone, like some fish,
she was slowly being reeled in by her incredibly growing need. She
deliberately turned her back on the telephone and walked into the
bedroom and picked up the newspaper. Perhaps if she read the ad
again, she might be able to convince herself of the utter folly of
actually following through. She turned to the page with trembling
fingers and easily found the ad. It was the only one on the entire
page that was circled! The ad read:
WANTED: Mature vigorous gentleman seeks
wayward young working women who miss a
firm fatherly hand. If you have been naughty
and deserve to be punished, I will turn you
over my knee, take down your panties, and
spank your bare bottom until you promise to
be good! If you need the security of knowing
that you will be soundly disciplined when you
misbehave, I will be your strict Daddy. Call
444-555-2345 between 6PM and 10PM Monday thru
Friday and ask for Robert. You must be between
18 and 28 years of age to answer this ad.
Karen idly traced the circle around the ad, reading and re-reading
the text that was already engraved in her mind. Perhaps branded
would be a better description, and the words seemed to burn in her
brain with an almost real pain as the hours passed. She knew with
conviction that she was going to call, it was just a matter of time
and courage.
As the evening waned, and the hands of the clock moved ever
closer to the hour of ten, Karen became more and more jumpy.
She would sit on the couch, then leap up and pace the room, sit
again, then jump up and go into the kitchen. In the kitchen she
had made endless cups of tea, microwaved them again and again,
but nothing helped. Karen took a Tylenol, but it had no effect.
She went to the bathroom, feeling a bit nauseous, but nothing
happened, so she sat again on the kitchen stool and glared at the
phone. Karen began to feel rather ridiculous, and berating herself
mentally, she thought: 'you silly goose, twenty-four years old,
and acting like a teen-ager afraid to call a boy!'
She glanced for the hundredth time at the clock, and was shocked
to see that it was now only FIVE MINUTES TO TEN! Something deep
inside her snapped, and she grabbed the phone and dialed; it rang
once. It rang twice. It rang for the third time. On the fourth
ring, Karen decided that if it was not answered by the fifth ring
she would hang up. Suddenly a deep baritone voice boomed in her ear
and said: "Good Evening." Karen tried to speak, but her throat
had closed, and her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
"GOOD EVENING!" the deep voice said more firmly. "What can
I do for you?'
"Is...is......is.... this Robert?" Karen finally managed to stammer.
"Yes, this is Robert, can I help you?"
"Uh, I.... I saw.... I saw your ad in the Star. And I wanted... I
wondered, I mean, Uh...... I wondered if you meant what... what
you put in the ad?"
"Young lady," came back the rumbling voice, "What is your name?"
"Karen..... I'm Karen." she replied in a very small voice.
"Karen, I want you to take a deep breath, let go of the phone, put
it down, go and get a glass of water, drink some, come back, sit
down, pick up the phone again, and just listen very carefully to
what I am going to tell you. Can you do that? Can you do
*exactly* what I have told you to do?"
Karen was shocked to find that she was actually standing, clutching
the phone in a death grip, almost as if it were a life preserver, and
the Titanic was sinking before her very eyes. How did he know what
she was doing? She looked wildly around the tiny kitchen, hoping she
would be able to see the hidden video camera. Puppet-like, her strings
loosely held, she pulled the phone from her grim grip, put it down,
got water, drank, sat on the stool, and picked up the phone.
When she put the receiver to her ear, the deep voice immediately
spoke.
"Karen, I want you to listen, and not say anything until I tell you
that you may talk. Can you do that?"
"Yessir!" she said. (Now where had that come from, she thought).
"Very Good. Now if you are really serious about answering my
ad, you need to understand that it will lead you into one of the
most intense experiences of your young life. If I accept you, and
I say if--- advisedly, you will report to me this Friday afternoon
at 6PM on the dot, and I will guide you through a weekend of
renewal and regeneration that will last until six o'clock Monday
morning. The experience will recreate something that you have
lost, and obviously miss. Do you understand me? Have you been
listening carefully?"
"I guess so, I mean, I, I think I understand, but----- " Karen was
cut short by Robert's sharp and no-nonsense tone.
"What you think is of no consequence, DID YOU UNDERSTAND
WHAT I JUST SAID?"
Karen, exhaled, in a long drawn out sigh, and all the tension of the
afternoon and evening seemed to leave her body with the rush of air.
"YES." she said in a clear and lilting voice. "I understand
what you said. If you will have me, I will be there at 6PM
exactly, on Friday, without fail."
"Very Good, Karen. I would be pleased to have you as my guest.
Now, have you got paper and a pen? I am going to give you some
instructions about the weekend, and directions to find my estate."
The rest of the week was a blur, and Karen was not sure what she
did at the office and cared less. As Friday dragged on, she found
herself again filled with an ever tightening tension, that snapped as
the clock reached the hour of Five! She slammed the file drawer
home, made a perfunctory swipe at straightening her desk, grabbed
her purse, and ran for the elevator. She knew the drive was going
to be a long one, and she worried about being able to find the
place.
Fifty minutes later, still stuck on the Freeway, she pounded on the
wheel in frustration. She had so wanted to be on time, and she
knew, with a tiny lurch of fear, that she was going to be quite late.
As she exited the freeway, Karen glanced at her watch, and was
horrified at how late it was. The sun had already set, the long
summer twilight had begun, and she knew she still had at least
fifteen miles to go. (And promises to keep....) she thought, with
growing anxiety. The world around her had turned to a gray blue,
and shadows were darkening, which seemed to match her mood of
despair. Karen had so wanted to be on time, and she was
beginning to worry that Robert would change his mind and send
her away, rejecting her after all.
The ad in the Star had been very explicit, and Karen wondered if
the weekend would live up to her expectations and fantasies.
Answering the ad had been difficult, but when she had finally
made the call, and spoken to Robert, her fear had melted into
certainty. She knew that this experience was what she needed, and
the anticipation mingled with her anxiousness about being late just
wound her tension tighter. Karen slapped the steering wheel, her
tension and temper mounting in intensity, but it did not help.
She slowed the car, pulled to the curb, and took a deep breath.
Fumbling in her purse, she pulled out the sheet of paper, and
reread the directions to Robert's estate.
Karen thought about The Estate. She visualized something that
was an amalgam of TARA from Gone With The Wind, and the Castle
from Citizen Kane. She had actually toured San Simeon, the Hearst
estate, while in college, and the memory of that opulent monument
to wealth and ego added to her excitement and tension. She frowned
at her scribbled notes, wishing that she had written more slowly
and legibly, and hoping that she could interpret her scrawl.
On the road again, and several miles closer to her destination,
Karen felt chilled, and turned down the air conditioning. The
stunning heat of the day was giving way to a typical desert night
chill, but she knew that the tingle running up and down her spine
was not due to the temperature in the car. Peering into the growing
darkness, Karen knew she was in an area of the far flung metropolis
that was totally unfamiliar. Rolling hills and scrub trees, a few
far off lights in the distance, told her she was well out of the city.
She slowed the car, frantically looking for something that would match
the directions she had been given. Just as she was despairing and
certain that she had missed a turn and was lost, Karen saw the high
stone wall on the left. Another hundred yards and she spotted the
gate and the two tall and massive pillars topped with large glowing
electric lanterns on either side. This must be it! It had to be
The Estate, it just HAD to be!
Turning left into the entrance, Karen stopped inches from the
ornate gates, and parked. She got out of the car, walked to the
right pillar as instructed, and opened the little door to find a
telephone. She picked up the handset, and heard the phone ringing.
It rang twice, and then a familiar male rumble spoke.
"Good evening. Is that you, Karen?"
".......Yes....." she said, and looked at her watch by the light from
the pillar lantern. It was after seven, and she was very, very late!
"Get back in your car," the rumbling voice said, "and when the
gates open, go through and follow the road to the fork, then drive
to the right. It will circle around and bring you to the parking
area. Park as close to the house as possible, and come to the foot
of the stairs. I will be waiting for you."
The drive seemed to go on forever, and with no house in sight,
Karen began to think she had taken the wrong way. He had said
the Right, she thought, but now was not sure of anything. Then
she saw that the road ahead was curving to the left, and was
relieved to see lights glimmering in that direction.
She parked next to a rather battered minivan, only a few yards
from the foot of the stairs, got out of her coupe, and stared at the
house. It was set on the top of a hill, and accessed by a wide
stone stairway framed by two smaller versions of the pillars that
bracketed the main gate. The stairs brought forth another image from
her mental movie storehouse, and she thought that there should be
clouds and pearly gates for a stairway to heaven. Karen shook
herself; it was, after all, just a very large house. Although three
stories high, It was not quite a castle, but contemporary in a rather
unusual and yet stylish manner. As she surveyed the scene, there was
something about the structure that bothered her, but she couldn't quite
figure it out. There was a subtle strangeness that triggered a shiver
and increased the chill she felt from the night air.
Then she had it! The proportions were all wrong, and the place
seemed to be weirdly gigantic. It was as if the building had been
made for a giant, and she half expected Goliath to be standing atop
the stairs, swinging his huge club and roaring at David. It was a
silly image, and she chuckled, and felt better.
When Goliath suddenly did appear at the top of the stairs, she
squealed in fright. Then the voice that she knew was Robert's said:
"I was beginning to worry about you, young lady, you are VERY LATE!
Where on earth have you been?"
As Robert descended the stairs, Karen was dumbfounded! The man
was at least eight feet, perhaps even nine feet tall! She felt
very small and vulnerable, and a bit frightened, as Robert came
closer and towered over her. Bending a little, he shook his finger
in her face, and scolded: "I do NOT like to worry about my girls,
and once you have been accepted, you ARE one of MY girls. Now
you come right inside young lady, and then you can explain
your extreme tardiness!"
Taking her firmly by the hand, Robert started up the stairs, and
Karen found to her amazement that she was having trouble climbing
the treads. She had to scramble to keep from being pulled off her
feet, and the stairs were impossibly oversized, and very difficult
to climb. Suddenly Robert reached down, grabbed Karen up, and
wrapped one huge arm around her body. The other arm, and the very
large hand attached, cradled her bottom, and thus she was carried
bodily up the stairs and into the house.
Robert swept through the huge open doorway into the house, Karen
tightly held in his arms, and then leaning down, stood her on her
feet. "Stay right there, Young Miss, and don't you dare move." he
said, stalking away into the gloom. The inside of the house was
fairly dark, but Karen could tell that she was in a hallway. The
only light came from the pillar lanterns outside and from a doorway
open just a crack, at the end of the hall. All the doors on either
side of the long passage were closed, and except for Roberts'
receding footsteps, all was silent.
The hall was suddenly flooded with light as the door at the end
opened and two giant figures were silhouetted. One was Robert,
and the other appeared to be a woman! They came toward Karen, and
the second figure did indeed resolve into an Amazon of incredible
proportions. The Amazon looked down from the heights at Karen,
said not a word, then turned on one massive heel, and strode back
down the hall. Robert's deep tones snapped Karen out of her shock.
"Come with me girl, and we will get you prepared for this weekend."
Having spoken, he swept swiftly down the hall, and Karen found
herself running to catch up.
Copyright 1997 by Koalabear (wo...@lava.net)
(continued)