After Valis left, Celeste sat on her bed pondering the situation. So, my doctor was right! It’s not me, it’s my husbands drinking problem that has caused his stick to be limp. What am I going to do? I can not live like this without the comfort of my husband’s touch. Am I to wither away with need and want, because he can’t stop drinking? Or do I adjust, because I love him, or shut up? Perhaps, I should go back to the woods I know, and live out my life alone, where I know I am safe? Celeste looked at her weapons and picked the knife up. Tears began to form in her eyes, Thank you papa, I knew you would make Valis give back my weapons! Now, if you could just stop this ordain stuff, I think I could survive this trip. Before Celeste knew it, she began to cry. Tears of years, streamed down her face. The last time she really had a good cry, was when she left her childhood behind, and started her new life in Los Angeles.
Her head became heavy with worry. Too many thoughts were filtering through her mind. So she laid her head down, and stared at the sky. I can not change what is done, but I can ride with the wind, and hope my spirits protect me. Was all she could process before her eyelids became heavy. She closed her eyes, and didn’t open them again until drops of rain sprinkled upon her face.
Celeste retreated to the inside of the building with her sheet for cover, and laid down upon the hard floor in one of the classrooms on the second level. Later, she woke up to the smell of coffee brewing, and itching her arms. Sitting up Celeste saw all the little bumps that the mosquito’s had created. Jesus, god you suckers tore me up! She proclaimed. She quickly tidied up, and went downstairs to see if they needed help with breakfast.
“Bonjour, Cheri!” Nadia spoke softly to Celeste. “Oh, you have bumps all over you, cowgirl.” Celeste looked at her arms and said, “You guys have some serious blood suckers of society here. I will ask the herb healer for some ointment to help the itch, when she wakes up.” Nadia tried to understand her words, and asked, “What does this blood sucker of society mean?” Celeste giggled and told her she meant mosquito bites. Nadia smiled at Celeste, then handed her a knife to cut up some fruit for breakfast.
Valis drove so fast down the road like a crazed maniac. He didn’t care at this point who he hit. Thank god the streets weren’t packed with Haitian’s driving to his military housing. He came to a screeching halt, shut off the engine, and stepped out, slamming the door. Heading straight for his room, he was saluted by security; “Bonjour, Capitaine Valis.” Valis just saluted, and walked to his room grumbling to himself.
He needed some whiskey to take the edge and frustration out of his system. Pouring himself a healthy dose in his glass, he tipped it to his lips and took it in one gulp. He slammed his glass down upon the kitchen counter, causing the glass to shatter into pieces. “Son of Bitch,” he roared, not caring who heard.
Reaching for the bottle of spirit, he took another huge swig. Stomping and stripping off his gear and uniform he headed for the shower, hoping to soap himself up, and get her smell off him. “DAMN!” he yelled. Just the mere thought of her made his shaft strengthen.
“What the hell am I thinking?” He pounded his fist against the tile wall. This woman really has gotten under my skin like no other woman has. Maybe it was better that she came to her senses when she did, he thought. Oh shit, why did I say those words, if I hadn’t, I could have had sex, right there with her, and been rid of her. He knew differently as soon as he spoke those words. He heard her speak the words, “Touch me Wah-ya, I am wet.” How was that possible, that I heard her in my mind? Who was this Wah-ya? He questioned himself.
Valis was handsome and dark in demeanor. At thirty-five years old, born Czechoslovakian, Valis, kept to himself most of the time; however, his life was always in danger. He love the hunt of an enemy, and honored his life in the military, he was the best the UN employed. Most would say, he had a wild spirit, and that he was untamable.
He never took a relationship seriously, for that simple reason; but when it came to women he just used and discarded them. He loved to enjoy a good night with a woman, but needed his single status. He was known to have a huge appetite for a good poke. The woman he met were needy, full of color and drama, waiting for someone to take them away from their life. Most women could not handle him, because he was so large in body and penis. Valis was over six feet two, muscular built, and was proud of his wander wand.
Golden-blonde with hints of chocolate brown hair done in a flat-top fashion decorated his skull. Dark shapely eyebrows with thick lashes framed his features. His face was smooth-shaven; strong, with a perfectly shaped nose adoring his features. His lips looked unyielding with no laugh lines noticeable around his mouth. His body was ripping with muscles as the water flowed endlessly over his six-pack abs.
Shutting off the water and pacing around his house dripping nude, he grabbed the bottle of liquor and drank more. “I have never been this reckless before–she makes me feel crazy and unrivaled…what was I thinking?” he yelled out. “That vixen wanted me, and her clean hairless muffin. SHIT, I was almost there to touch its wetness!” His mind was spinning with thoughts of Celeste, and her smooth hairless body. He had never before seen anything so beautiful, all he wanted to do is touch her.
“My god she used a strange weapon with a rubber band, it was fast! She was fast! Her knife, a big one too, hidden in her boot. No woman I have met has been this interesting to me? She is fearless yet wild…like me,” he thought. Taking another big drink he started to feel the effects of the alcohol. “I will not see her no more, I must keep myself busy. She has her weapons back, so there is no other reason, for us to see each other.” Slurring his words, he said, “I don’t need her, but I want to make love to her.” Love? Did he just say LOVE?
Valis didn’t make love, he was very demanding, hard, and inventive. His greatest power when he pleasured a woman with his animal behavior, and knew she was satisfied before him. He disliked lazy sex, yet this Indian cowgirl made him feel the need to caress her, devour, explore the wildness that floods from her. “DAMN, it, man…stop thinking about her!” Looking down to his manhood, “Get it under control!” he barked at his boner.
He headed to his bedroom, and put the bottle of whiskey on his bedside table. Instantly, he dropped heavily on his bed. For a few moments he laid there staring at the ceiling, then sat back up, took another big drink. Thinking again that no female has made him really laugh like she did. When she laughed, he was so amused by the sound. He still had a hard time understanding her language, but got by with most of it. It was her Southern-Mexican accent, and her slang words she used were unidentifiable to him.
Now he was getting drunk–lying down again, he was hoping to sleep. On and off his eyelids fell to rest, but his mind would not let him. In his stupor, he swore he would not see the American Indian again. It was past 6:00 a.m., before he could finally sleep.