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The Warning

Posted on April 25, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

The air-conditioning was up all the way, just the way he liked it. The engine was idling and he was keeping an eye out for traffic cops. He checked his watch to confirm that she had been gone for close to ten minutes. Experience told him that he had at least another fifteen to go before she returned. He settled in, wiggled his back against the seat and tried to get as comfortable as he could. He was contemplating playing games on his cellphone when the door swung open. “That was…,” his throat closed up at the sight of the creamy white legs climbing into the car, the legs that did not belong to his wife. She settled into the seat, slammed the door shut and stared straight ahead, “Drive.”

It has been a long known secret, only to womankind that men possess an as-yet-unmapped gene they would codename DID if they cared to do silly things like that. No heterosexual male can resist the damsel in distress, especially if she happens to be attractive. Witness the hot but clueless girl waiting patiently by her car while some late-for-his-meeting-executive changes her flat tire. Or the lo-slung jeans clad stunner who forgot her wallet after ordering at a fast food counter and found a willing stranger to foot the bill. Millions of cases across hundreds of cultures have managed to evade scientific study because the guys can’t see it and the girls don’t want them to.

He pulled away from the kerb with a screeching of tires and realised that he was going fast without any reason to do so, so he eased the car into a more manageable cruising speed and looked at her. He couldn’t be certain because he didn’t normally know these things but it looked like she was wearing a negligee and nothing else. Not even one of those silken seduction aids designed to arouse. This was a soft cotton number that hinted at the dark tips of her breasts and the fact that she was totally ‘going commando’ underneath the whisper of clothing she had on. Of course she’d remembered to wear stilettos. Not much makeup as far as he could tell.

No purse.

And oh yes, she was the biggest movie star in the country right then.

After several moments of sneaking glances in her direction he ventured a question, “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Okay…see I was waiting for my wife and she’s going to be really pissed if I’m not there when she gets out of that store.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time, “Just my luck. Another married man.”

He didn’t know what to say so he didn’t. Until they arrived at a break in the road from where the direction they went in was a multiple choice question. The light was red so he tried conversation again, “Which way?”

She evaluated the options but didn’t seem keen on responding. When the light changed she mumbled, “Straight and right at the next turn.”

He did as he was told and was surprised when she continued speaking, “Don’t you get sick of doing what your told all the time? Don’t you just wish you could tell all of them to fuck off and do your own thing?”

That wasn’t the sort of language her fans were used to hearing when she was on the big screen.

“Actually I…don’t get told what to do a lot.”

“You said you’re married?”

“Yes…”

“And your wife lets you do what you want?”

“I mean I know my limits…”

“See? That’s what I mean! Why should I have limits? Why should anybody have limits? I can sleep with whoever I want. Drink whatever I want. Snort whatever I want. What’s the big deal? Death is the only limit. When will they get that?”

She was looking at the people on the street as those final words left her lips.

“I think I’m ready to go back now.”

“To the hotel?”

She nodded. He took the requisite number of turns and arrived at the front door. A valet was bearing down on them when she turned to him, “What are you doing?”

“The hotel right? We’re here.”

The look she gave him was pure steel wrapped in ice, “I never use the front entrance. Especially not dressed like this!”

He pulled out, whipped the car around the divider and ended up in almost the same spot he’d picked her up from. She reached for the handle but spoke before climbing out, “It was good to speak to a real person for a change. I’m sick of the fucking morons I’m usually surrounded by. Thank you.”

She climbed out and entered the hotel without a single backward glance. He exhaled for a long time, got light-headed from the effort and nearly jumped out of his skin when the passenger door was yanked open again.

His wife’s brow was furrowed as she dropped her bags on the back seat, “Y’know I think I just saw that actress on my way out. Weird, she was only wearing a teddy and heels. I know she’s a big star and all that but I’m surprised the hotel lets her walk around like that…”

He was at a loss for words yet again so she looked at him, palms in her lap, seatbelt already fastened, “What? She was going the other way. Let’s go.”

Three weeks later the actress was found in a pool of her own blood in the parking lot of the high-rise whose penthouse she lived in. It was registered as a case of suicide. The most curious thing about the way she was found was that she had been dressed in full bridal finery.

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