Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 3.  Taboo peril

   KATE

   The early afternoon found Kate back in her study, seated before her
laptop.  Jim spent the morning locked in his room (he said he was reading,
but Kate didn't believe it - Jim simply wasn't a reader), then Sharon's
daughter came over and took him somewhere.  It was only then that she
realized how little social life did he have back when they were urban
dwellers.  Perhaps coming with him to this nigh-abandoned town wasn't this
bad an idea after all.

   Kate opened the text editor, but as soon as her fingers were about to
strike the keyboard she became aware of acute lack of ideas.  Of course,
she could try penning another taboo story, but the editors wouldn't accept
any mention of actual incest or, God forbid, characters who are even a day
shy of their eighteenth birthday.  She didn't even bother to undress, as
she usually did when writing.  She still wore her red-striped t-shirt, her
miniskirt, and her knee-length socks.  Kate realized that she dressed as if
she was about to seduce the mute machine that was now her only companion,
apart from Jim.  So she fixed her eyes on the misty woods behind the
window.

   Perhaps the Lady was more than a legend.  Perhaps there really is a
lustful goddess hidden in the woods, accepting naked human sacrifices and
inciting people to do forbidden things.

   The story recounted by Sharon, whether it was true or not, had every
feature of a great erotica.  If only the editors could bear with the
underage characters.

   Kate closed her eyes.  Her mind was flooded with a swirl of imagery from
yesterday's tales.  The totem, the victims, the mystery, the shadow...

   If you are there, she prayed inwardly, Metikwakani Ekwewa, Lady of the
Woods, please help me.

   Please deliver me from lack of creativity, and lack of...

   ...outlets.

   "Open your eyes."

   It was almost like someone put a thought in her head.

   Kate did as the inner voice told her.

   Everything seemed unchanged - it was still early afternoon, the woods
were still covered with mist.

   PING.

   It was only then that Kate realized she had a communicator open. 
Perhaps she was still waiting for a message from Melanie, but Melanie was
silent since her departure.

   "Hello,

   My name is Mary Bradford and I'm an avid reader of your stories.  It
also happens I'm running a small publishing company that might be
interested in your talent.  Beware though - we're not afraid to venture
into some really dark recesses of love and lust.  If you are interested,
reach out to me on Signal.  Look up my name and don't hesitate to call."

   Signal?

   Kate googled Signal and it turned out to be a privacy-focused
communicator.  She hastily had it installed and configured.  This message
was almost like an answer - to her prayer.

   Upon calling the requested name she was greeted with the sight of a
dark-skinned woman, not unlike Melanie.

   "Katheryn Whitehouse, I presume", the woman had a very distinguished
manner of talking, "It is an honor to meet you."

   "Well, hello, miss...  Bradford", Kate was a bit surprised by the turn
of the events.

   "I'll get straight to business", said the woman who called herself Mary,
"I'm calling you because I believe that your talents are getting wasted in
the present artistic and...  political climate.  We'd like to offer you a
fair amount of money if you agree to participate in a rather...  unusual
venture.  At first it might evoke fears about coming into conflict with
law, but believe me, we have everything taken care of to ensure the
creative freedom of our authors.  Are you interested?"

   Kate nodded.

   "We are running an underground network involved in producing quality
erotica", the woman continued, "We're not interested in cheap pornography,
the plumber-gets-laid-with-customer kinds of scenario.  Instead, we focus
on creating story-focused literary, pictorial and cinematic content that
stirs the imagination."

   Kate nodded again.  She was at the same time scared and excited.

   "Our latest venture is a series called 'Taboo Peril'", said Mary, "They
are basically stories focusing on two major themes: incestuous
relationships and erotic peril.  Our preference is for mother-son and
father-daughter stories.  Usually it's the daughter or the mother who
becomes a damsel in distress, but it's not uncommon for the couples to
become embroiled in...  perilous situations.  Be warned - we sometimes deal
with themes such as torture, erotic death or vore.  This is all, of course,
presented in a very tasteful fashion.  Think of us as producers of... 
erotic dreams."

   Kate gulped.  Her anxiety and excitement were on the rise.

   "The younger characters are usually portrayed by models in the age range
between fifteen and twenty.  Shocking by American standards, not so much by
the European standards, although Europe is beginning to fall victim to
prevailing puritan attitudes..."

   The woman grimaced as she spoke those words.

   "One detail you might find interesting is that many of our models are
actual relatives.  This adds both spice and authenticity to the stories. 
Actually..."

   Kate's mind was running wild.  She imagined herself in a naked bondage
photoshoot with Jim...

   Stop it, Kate, she scolded herself.  Stop it.

   However, she couldn't help it.  It was as if the dam was broken in her
mind.

   "I've got a son, he's...  sixteen.  If I had an idea for a photostory or
a movie...  Would I...  produce it?"

   Mary nodded with approval.

   "I can see we found the right person for the job.  However, as much as
we appreciate individual initiative, we'd like to send you the theme for
the first story.  Please write it as if it were one of your novels; don't
bother about the cinematic presentation.  Don't reject any idea because it
seems impossible to film.  Just let your imagination fly."

   Mary smiled.

   "Please create an inbox on ProtonMail and send me the address.  Till
next time."

   Feeling like a criminal, Kate followed the instructions.  She didn't
have to wait long before the message came via ProtonMail:

   "The overall arch is the following: an attractive woman in her late
thirties of early forties moves with her teenage son into a gated community
where all kinds of forbidden dalliances are allowed.  She's intent on
making love to her son, but so is another woman, a neighbor from the same
community.  The feud leads to her being kidnapped as bait for her son. 
Please elaborate on this idea as you see fit.  However, we appreciate the
building of erotic tension rather than jumping straight into action.  If
there is to be a love scene between the woman and her son, it should be the
conclusion of the story, the actual climax the build-up is mounting
towards.

   Good luck."

   Kate had barely the time to digest what she had read, when another mail
came, this time informing her she became a premium member of the Taboo
Peril for a year.  It was meant to be both a bonus payment and a
demonstration of what their new employers expected.

   Kate realized she's never been this turned on lately.  She ran the text
editor and started to peel down her clothing, as if in erotic trance.  The
very framework for the story had so much potential.  The community?  If
it's really that decadent then it should have corporal punishments meted to
the tenants of both sexes, and, yes, they should receive it naked and in
public.

   As she sat naked before the computer, preparing to pen the first words
of her new story, she became aware there was someone else in the room.

   "Jim?", she asked, "Jim, is that you?"

   She turned around and saw a woman, clad in red silk, with beautiful face
and long, beautiful, black hair.  The woman was looking at her with an
evil, almost mocking smile.  In panic, Kate tried to cover herself and
cried out.

   The apparition vanished.

   She looked around.  The room was empty.

   Was she hallucinating?

   Or was it Lady of the Woods?

   "Metikwakani Ekwewa", she said, trembling, "Thank you."

   Her words were met by foreboding silence.

   JIM

   The next morning was even more misty then the previous.  It crossed
Jim's mind that the mist was something perpetual in Walson, as was the
presence of Metikwakani; perhaps even the mist was her doing.

   The boy couldn't shake off the last night's visions; it was not the
specter that disturbed him the most, but his own reaction to the sight of
the naked refugees and their torment.  It was as if there was something
that slumbered beneath his gentle veneer.  True, he browsed bondage
websites when his mother was not present, and he was turned on by the sight
of erotic peril.  But this was something else entirely - the suffering he
was witness to was real, not staged.  And yet it aroused him, as if he was
one of those monsters he read about in the news: deviants andrapists.  And
yet...

   And yet, he thought, every attractive female he saw, every attractive
female he passed by on the street was naked beneath her clothing.  This
clothing could be peeled off and the woman or girl in question bound with
ropes or chains, for him to look at, touch or torment...

   He shook his head.  He felt he was heading in a disturbing direction.

   Every female.  Sharon and her beautiful daughter.  Even his own mother.

   At the core of the things she was an attractive woman after all, and
there was no reason, other than social taboo, for him not to be attracted
to her.

   He didn't have to be the perpetrator.  Just as in the dream, he could be
a spectator, enjoying their nudity, their helplessness, their torment.

   "What is happening to me?", he whispered.

   It's this place, he thought.  And the presence that permeated it.

   Metikwakani Ekwewa.  The Lady of the Forest.

   "I must shake out of it", he whispered, but inwardly he knew he's too
weak to resist this current.  It will take him sooner or later.

   This must have something to do with Melanie and her friends that Sharon
spoke about.  There was a cult either centered around the figure or
interested in it, there was no question.  He recalled the book that he had
hidden in the shelf.  When he opened it, it was still there, waiting
patiently for him to read.

   Perhaps the book is the key to understanding what is going on in Walson.

   He opened it at random page.

   "...  that our Eyes arth Closeth, as arth the Eyes of a Sleeper.  To
look through open Eyes is akin to looking at a Dream, for it is the Senses
that separateth us from Reality.  Like was saith by the venerable Plato, we
arth only capable of Seeing imperfect Likeness of the Truths; the Male and
the Female, the Love and the Hate, and not the least Desire, arth but
Reflections of Realities that exist beyond the Shape and the Color and
Touch and Smell ..."

   He started flipping through the pages.  The author put forth a
fascinating idea - of the world being a dream, or rather a Dream of a
sleeping deity, whose very sleep (referred to by the author by the capital
letter - Sleep) separates us from the super-sensual world outside.  Many of
the passages were incomprehensible and muddled, but the prevailing idea was
that there are two main roads to the superensual world, and that both
centered around desire, specifically the erotic desire: one was to reject
it entirely and give oneself to apathy, "as the Saints of India hath done".
But this was, according to the author, the easier and the more imperfect
way.  Since the erotic desire had its source in the supersensual world,
embracing it utterly - and rejecting all constraints and taboos in the
process - was the more diffult, but the surest way to reach the "World of
Truth".  But such a rejection of mores must be complete and unequivocal -
if it fits you, lay down with your relatives, perform heinous acts of
torture and murder - what is important is to get in touch with something he
called "Mai", the primeval force of erotic desire, to keep it fresh and not
stale, and if it is properly being followed it can, ultimately lead us to
the source of erotic extasy and at the same time to its highest and
unending form, while at the same time opening our eyes to the true world
whose reflections we see in the dreamworld that we in our present state
take for reality.

   Scattered accross the text were references to a being called Semai and
her cult; it was Semai who was nigging at the edges of our dreamworld,
stimulating the flow of Mai and leading its worshipers towards the
abolishment of the world itself.  Mai, said the author, was a force which,
when concentrated, could alter the very matter of our dreamed reality.  But
it had to be helped with Words, the protocol of verbal commands established
by Semai for her worshipers to channel Her power into the unreal world. 
These were powerful, but only those initiated by another worshiper could
use them properly.  As an innocuous example, the author spoke about the
world "Seneremai", which, "coupled with the thought about what stimulates
one's Desire will make it Manifest in reality, given that the Desire is
Erotic, but there are other limitations to its Use".  The author left those
limitations unspecified.

   Jim put the book down.  It did seem to clarify some issues.  Perhaps
Melanie and friends were part of the Semai cult; but if they were, why
their interest in Metikwakani?  Was it possible that Metikwakani was the
being they called Semai?  Jim ruled it out outright: Semai was explicitly
stated to reside outside of the manifested world, it was us who were
trapped.  Metikwakani could then be somehow related to Semai, but the exact
nature of their relationship was beyond Jim's ability to fathom.

   The boy played with the thought of experimenting with the world
"Seneremai".  He wasn't a worshiper, but his mind was filled with nasty,
erotic thoughts; he thought, in the first place, of Anna.  The fantasy that
came into his mind had them being stripped naked against their will and
held in a locked room or cell, where they would be forced to endure each
other's company.

   "Seneremai."

   Only when he spoke this Word that the other thoughts visited him; they
were even darker and nastier.  But for a moment he toyed with the idea of
everything he desired, everything he wished, every kind of erotic pleasure
being immediately available to him.

   He stood up and stretched.  Beyond the window, the woods were still
covered by mist.  He was about to decide what to do with his day when there
was a knock on the door.

   It was his mom, clad (he suddenly became attentive to this detail) in
short skirt, knee-length socks and striped t-shirt.  She looked extremely
appealing, as if she were about to go on a date.  Was this place having an
effect on her too?

   "You have a guest", she said.

   He followed her to the front door.  Behind them stood Anna, wearing
black t-shirt, shorts tied up with leather belt, knee-length boots and her
enigmatic smile.

   Behind her were a two other young people on motorbikes.  They were
wearing helmets and he couldn't see their faces, but one was certainly a
girl (he could tell by her posture) and the other was a boy.

   "Jayden's folks are out of town, he's having a party.  Are you joining
us?"

   The two heads, appearing eyeless in their helmets, turned towards him
expectantly.

   Was it the answer to...

   No.

   "Sure, I'll go", he said.

   "Have fun, kids", said Kate.  Jim could almost hear the relief in her
voice, as if she was happy to finally have some time to herself.

   The the girl beckoned for him to join her.  He sat on the back seat and
wrapped his arms around her waist.  Her body, as could be felt beneath
beneath her suit, was slim, but toned, and no doubt attractive.  Jim felt a
wave of erotic desire pass through him.

   In the corner of his eye he saw Anna join the boy and wrap her arms
about him; he couldn't admit it, but he felt slightly jealous, even if for
but a moment.

   The motorbikes started and off they went into the foggy town.

   *

   "How far is it?", Jim asked.

   "Jayden's home's about ten minutes from the town", said the helmeted
girl, "He's the only one who's still got money in Walson."

   They were silent for a moment.

   "What usually happens on those parties?"

   She laughed.

   "Fun stuff.  Last time half of the people ended up naked..."

   The mention of nakedness stirred Jim's imagination.

   "How?"

   "We played spin-the-bottle for clothes.  And, you know..."

   Suddenly Jim heard a bang and heaven and the earth swapped places.  He
felt sharp pain and realized he's lying on the ground.

   "Becca!"

   The voice belonged to the boy who took in Anna.  His engine stopped.

   "Oh, shit!..."

   "Becca, can you walk?"

   Jim felt someone's hand raise him back to his feet.

   "Jim, can you walk?"

   It was Anna.

   "I guess so", his shock now subsiding, Jim could now assess the
situation.

   Becca's motorbike was laying on the ground, apparently broken beyond
repair.  The boy who rode with Anna was helping the girl called Becca to
her feet.  Jim's back hurt, but he could still feel his arms and legs, and
nothing seemed broken.

   They were lucky.

   "Duck", said Anna.

   "What!?"

   Another bang.  Something whistled just above his head...

   It was a bullet.

   He heard it hit the nearby tree.

   "What's going on!?"

   "Quiet.  Keep your head low."

   She grabbed his hand and led him towards the forest.

   "What about them?", Jim pointed at Becca and her companion.

   Becca was mounting his bike.

   "They will manage."

   "RUN, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!  RUN!"

   The mocking voice belonged to a female.

   "Castillo Sisters", said Anna.

   "Who!?"

   "A psycho mom and her psycho daughters.  They've been around since the
meadow incident."

   Jim heard another gunshot, but it was far away.

   "Were they always like that!?"

   "They were always dangerous, if that's what you ask.  But their time in
Walson made them even worse."

   "AND NOBODY DOES ANYTHING!?  WHAT ABOUT THE POLICE!?"

   "Keep your voice down!"

   Anna stopped.  Jim noticed she was panting.

   "There are no churches, no police, no law in this place."

   She took a deep breath and added.

   "This is Walson."

   Jim heard the engine start.  Becca and her friend got away.

   Another gunshot.  This one was closer.

   "What now?", he asked helplessly.

   "I'll figure something out."

   Another gunshot, then quiet for a long time.  The dark forest closed
about the two escapees.

   "Did they run out of ammo?", asked Jim.

   "They're rather trying to lull us into thinking we escaped", said Anna,
"I know a path through this forest, I'll..."

   "Freeze."

   Three latino girls, all of them seemingly his age, appeared out of
nowhere.  Two of them brunettes - one short-haired, the other had long,
curly hair.  The third one had her head shaved bald.

   They stared at them with their cold eyes, much like predators surveying
their prey.

   The bald one and the short-haired had guns pointed at them.

   "Well, well", said the short-haired, "The little orphan is here.  And
who's this sissy?"

   "None of your fucking business", Jim felt Anna tighten the grip on his
hand.

   "You're coming with us", said the short-haired.

   "What you're going to do with us?", Jim realized he's growing desperate.

   "You'll see.  Now move!"

   They began their hesitant walk at gunpoint through the misty wood.

   "Why did he call you orphan?", whispered Jim, "I thought Sharon..."

   "Sharon's not my mom", she whispered back, "I'm not who people think I
am."

   "So how do they know?"

   "QUIET!", barked the short-haired.

   They walked in silence until they reached an abandoned cabin.  Jim noted
that the windows were covered with iron bars.

   "Okay, lovebirds, let's have a chat.", said the short-haired, "Where
were you going?"

   "Jayden...  ", Jim started, but Anna prodded him to stop.

   "Oh, you were going to one of Jayden's parties?  That's okay, we're
going to have a party of our own."

   The long-haired and the bald moved away, as if given a signal.  They
began gathering wood on a pile.

   Jim felt a knot tightening in his stomach.

   "Inside, you two", the short-haired gestured towards the cabin.

   Jim squinted at her sisters.  They seemed like they were stoking fire.

   "DID I ALLOW YOU TO LOOK!?", yelled the short-haired.

   Jim was silent.

   "I asked you a question.  Did I allow you to look?"

   "No."

   "No, ma'am."

   "No, ma'am."

   Once they were inside, the two other sisters joined them.

   Jim looked around.  The interior was sparse, there was almost nothing
apart from wooden table and two wooden benches.

   "Now strip.", said the short-haired.

   Jim looked at Anna, but she was already pulling her t-shirt over her
head.

   "Do what she says", she whispered.

   Trembling, Jim took off his t-shirt.

   "Boots, pants, everything", said his captor.

   Jim glanced at Anna, who was already down to her bra and panties.

   "Everything I said!", this time the girl addressed him in person.

   He took off his shoes and pants, then he glanced at Anna.  She was
already pulling down her panties.  Her bra lay on the wooden floor.

   In spite of the horror of his situation, Jim felt an erection grow in
his underpants.

   "Looky, looky", the short-haired girl grinned, then yelled:
"EVERYTHING!"

   Swallowing tears, he took off his underpants, and stood completely naked
before his captor.

   The short-haired girl snapped her fingers.  Her sisters collected the
scattered clothing and carried it towards the fire burning outside.

   Jim suddenly realized the horror of his situation.  Whatever these girls
wanted to do to them was final.

   He glanced at his companion.  She stood nude and erect, not even trying
to cover herself, her young and shapely breasts at once defenceless and
defiant against the gun-wielding latino girl.  Only her eyes were closed.

   "So, Anna", said the short-haired, "I know little can be squeezed out of
you.  But this sissy here, I'd like to know about him."

   "Leave him alone", Anna said through clenched teeth.

   Jim tried to cover his privates, but his erection made it impossible. 
The two mute sisters entered the cabin and the short-haired pointed at
Jim's erect member with a mocking smile.

   The boy blushed.

   "So, little sissy, I know you're new in town", she addressed him, "Are
you here on your own?"

   "No...", whispered Jim.

   "No, ma'am!", yelled the girl, "You address me as ma'am, do you
understand!?"

   "No, ma'am...  I mean...  Yes, ma'am..."

   The sisters burst into cruel laughter.

   "So you're not on your own.  Who's with you?"

   "My mom..."

   "Her name?"

   Jim gulped.  He felt he's about to cry.

   "Kate..."

   "Kate what?"

   "Whitehouse."

   "Kathryn Whitehouse", this time it was the long-haired who spoke, and
she did it as if something was stuck in her throat.  Her words were barely
intelligible.

   "Did you hear of her!?", the short-haired seemed surprised.

   "Mom sss-said she read her books", said the long-haired.

   Jim felt a surge of hope.  They knew his mother and...

   "Yeah, I've read some interview", the bald one spoke quickly, in a
detached manner, "Sexy gal.  She's got devoted readers, she's known."

   "Celebrity", the short-haired bared her teeth in a predatory smile, "We
need to tell mom about a sexy celebrity in town.  But for now, let's have
some REAL fun."

   "Lie down on these", she pointed to the two wooden benches, "And don't
fucking move!"

   Jim obeyed, though he was shaking and nearly crying.  Once he felt the
rough wood against his naked skin he heard a commotion, as though the
sisters were busy preparing something.  He waited, trembling and completely
defenceless.

   "Okay, let's rough them up a little", said the short-haired.

   Jim heard a swish and then felt a sharp pain in his buttocks.  He cried
out.

   He heard the other girl whip Anna, but she bore the pain with silence.
At first he tried to count the swats, hoping this will end after ten,
twenty, thirdy swats, but it just wouldn't end.

   "Please stop!", he cried out, "STOP!!!"

   The captors laughed cruelly.

   "Okay, girls", Jim recognized the short-haired's voice, "Let's leave
those lovebirds for now."

   Jim heard footsteps on the wooden floor, and then the doors being
slammed shut.  It was about ten seconds before he dared to move.

   "Anna!?", he asked, realizing his voice became high-pitched from pain
and terror, "Anna!?"

   "I'm okay", Anna's voice was trembling, but overall she seemed to have
endured this ordeal much better than him, "Are you?"

   "They stripped us naked...  And...  beat us..."

   "Yeah, and locked us in", Anna began to look around.

   "This is...  impossible...  How do we...  get out?"

   "I'll figure something", she said.

   It struck him she behaved in a different way he would expect from a girl
his age.

   He looked at her.  Flat tummy, youthful breasts that appeared
crescent-like when he looked at them up-front.

   He felt his member rise to attention again.

   And then it struck him.

   It was the situation he was visualizing when he spoke the Word.

   Could it be...

   No.

   He wasn't a worshiper.

   "I'm sorry", he said, referring to his erect member.

   Anna nodded.  She came up to him and laid the hand on his shoulder.  It
didn't help matter; in spite of captivity and pain, Jim felt excitement is
growing.

   "Are you sure it's okay?  It seems like the first time you're in this
kind of trouble."

   "You're not?"

   "No."

   "When was..."

   "The first time?  I was twelve."

   "Who are they?"

   "Castillos.  Vivian, Claudia, Elisenda.  Their mothers name's Lucia."

   "Mexicans?"

   Anna nodded.

   "Lucia was already a crazy bitch before she came here.  Obviously, she
was embroiled in drug trafficking in Mexico.  She dabbled in occult, but it
didn't save her from falling out with some big bonzo.  So she crossed
through Nogales and eventually into the New England, where she found..."

   "...  Metikwakani", Jim finished for her, "So it's real?  Not a legend?"

   "She's very real and dangerous", said Anna.

   "And you?"

   She shook her head.

   Without saying a word, she approached the locked door.  And then...

   ...  then she said something in a low voice - almost a whisper.

   "Meisanevan".

   The chain fell down and the doors opened.

   And then it started to rain.

   She came back to him.

   "So you're one of...", whispered Jim.

   She was silent for a moment.

   "Melanie left the book, didn't she?  I belong to the Order of the
Original Temple."

   "What?"

   "The branch that came into being more than two thousand years ago.  We
fight people like Melanie.  And people like Lucia, although she's just a
pawn."

   Jim digested her words.

   "And Sharon?"

   "She's just a wannabe witch who gets paid for pretending she's my
mother. Of course, she doesn't know who's paying her.  Sometimes I help her
with my Words, so she feels like she has an actual power."

   Jim felt Anna wrap her arm about him and press her body next to his. 
Her skin was wonderfully smooth.

   "What!?"

   "It's some time before it stops raining."

   His member now grew painfully erect.  Anna became aware of it, and this
time took it in her hand.

   "No..."

   "You don't have any practice, do you?"

   Her other hand now slipped from his shoulders and was feeling his chest.
Appreciatively so.

   "Come on!"

   With her free hand she grabbed his right palm and pressed it against her
chest, almost forcing him to feel her bare breast.

   Jim felt he won't stand it any longer.  Anna became aware of it, as she
climbed on his lap and wrapped her legs about his waist.

   He was now experiencing his first copulation.  For a moment, everything
became blurry from the intensity of pleasure, and then all the tension,
erotic or otherwise, left him in a brief but powerful explosion.

   Jim felt his head fall on the girls shoulder.  He felt weak and
exhausted - from the danger, the horror, and the bliss of his first
lovemaking.

   She stroked his hair.

   Jim felt he's about to fall asleep.  The sound of rainfall diminished,
diminished until it suddenly...

   "It stopped raining", said Anna, "Come on."

   *

   "Oh great", he said, "We're naked and far from home, and this junk won't
ride again.  If we..."

   "It will", said Anna.

   She spoke another Word that Jim didn't hear, and the damaged bike sprang
to life.

   He shook his head.

   "Come on!"

   *

   The evening was already falling as the two escapees disembarked at their
street.

   "Won't your 'mom' ask you about...  you know...  you being naked?"

   Anna shook her head.

   "I'd rather worry about yours", she sent him a smile that was almost
sympathetic, "Till tomorrow."

   Covering himself, Jim stood before the locked door.  If he rings, then
there will be questions he didn't want to answer.

   But maybe...

   "Meisanevan", he whispered.

   The door clicked open.

   So it was true.

   But when?  How?...

   He went inside, hoping he'll manage to sneak by his mother's inquisitive
stare.