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Tuesday, March 24, 2015

=The Two of Us, Together…=

I was tied to a chair. "Do it," my interrogator
insisted, "do it for us now." He had removed
his coat, yanked down his tie, undid a button.
He was getting down to business and meant
to show it. If you want to know the truth, 
I believe he wasn't just acting: he really was 
close to tears. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

He threw the chair he'd been sitting in against
the wall and roared. He stomped back and forth
a few times. He massaged his corrugated forehead
with his fingers. This job had cost him his hair
and god only knew what else. "Listen," he said, 
catching his breath, forcing himself to calm down. 

I was worried about his health, clearly he wasn't
in the best of shape. The work he was doing 
was killing him. He needed a long vacation, anyone
could see that. A month or two on a beach somewhere,
then a transfer to another department.

To be totally honest, I couldn't have looked so
hot myself. We'd been through a lot together.
The wire cutter, the waterboard, the length
of rubber hose, the dogs…it takes a toll. Frankly,
I could've used a little freshening up, too. My hair
and makeup were a fright. I would have liked
a pedicure and a new pair of panties. We
were like an old married couple who'd been
at it for decades and yet, somehow, inexplicably,
to the bafflement of friends and family, 
had managed to hang on together. 

Sweat-stains had fanned out under both his arms. 
He'd rolled up his sleeves at some point. Now 
he planted his big fists, knuckles down, on the table.
He still had impressively hairy forearms; he still
gave me that special tingle inside, I don't
mind telling you. He hung his head for a moment. 
He looked  exhausted, done in. His bald spot was the
embodiment of human vulnerability. I would have
kissed it tenderly if my restraints hadn't made
taking any such initiative impossible. He lifted
his head slowly and leaned towards me instead,
but a kiss the last thing on his mind 
just then. 

"I'm trying to be reasonable," he said in his new
and measured tone, "I don't want to do what 
you're going to make me do, but it's my job, 
it's my duty. If I have to do it, I will." He indicated 
the instruments of torture which had already been 
laid out in full and lurid array, some still unused. 
Implied, too, was his silent partner, standing off
to the side, just within the limits of my 
peripheral vision, arms folded across his chest
as he leaned against the wall, chewing
on a toothpick to relieve his tension,
eager to resume

My interrogator brought his whiskery face
close to mine. I could smell his animal body, 
feel his heat, his breath, his salty need, 
it was almost sexual.

"Please. Please show me?" He whispered,
in truth, he practically whimpered, like a whipped dog.
It was nearly too much, the helpless pleading
in his voice. I was only human. I had my limits,
too. I wasn't being difficult, I swear. 
I wanted to show him, I wanted to give him what
he wanted, I truly did. I just didn't know
what it was.

"Show you what?" I asked. I thought I'd see his head
explode,  but instead a slow smile spread 
across his drawn and shadowed face, he motioned 
excitedly to his friend, "Look, look, she's doing it! 
Come here! I can't believe it!" 

Doing what?, I still wondered. Was he kidding, 
was this just another torturer's trick? 

"Amazing," said his silent-up-to-now partner, 
who had kicked off from the wall to have
a closer look. He was clearly disappointed 
that he wouldn't get to play more with his toys.
"Simply fucking amazing," he grudgingly
acknowledged and backed off again.

"Is the camera running?" my interrogator asked,
"For crissakes make sure it's running. We don't
want to miss this." 

Miss what? I was just as dumb as ever until I caught
a glimpse of myself in the two-way mirror. 

An ostrich was sitting in the chair that I was
still sitting in, an ostrich had taken my place. 

How? What? My dark seductive eyes widened, 
my beak dropped open in simple-minded astonishment,
and my long neck, so freakishly elegant, 
twisted one way, then another in a careful
appraisal of the situation.

Well, I'll be damned! I could transform myself 
into an ostrich! Or I was an ostrich 
that could transform itself into a human being. 
I swear I never knew! How was any of this
even possible? What's more, what else 
didn't I know about myself? What other secrets
was I hiding? 

If not for my interrogator, I might have remained
ignorant of my true self forever. I owed him a lot, 
more than I could ever repay. I vowed to myself
that I would do my best to work with him as honestly
and as hard as I could from now on. If need be
I'd swear to it on a stack of bibles. 

We were in this together, that was clear to me. 
He was my best friend just as he'd been saying
all along. I hadn't been lying and he hadn't
been lying either. It had just been a great big 
misunderstanding, that's all. 

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