LAWRENCE: A short story

Lawrence

"Sweetheart, Uncle Gary is here. Come say hello." Mother stood near the door.
I continued stroking the brush. The painting was almost done.
"Come on now. You know he adores you." her voice interrupted, yet again.
I sighed.
"Yes Mother. I'll be out in a minute." I said.
She smiled. Even without having to turn around, I knew. My mother approved when I did what she asked for, without questions.
"Don't wear those shorts" she said as she walked away.
I looked at the most comfortable clothing I owned. The paint stains weren't the problem. It was the distance between its end and my crotch. I turned towards the open closet. The dresses only looked beautiful to me.

   Uncle Gary was a year younger than my mother. But he felt more like the older brother to his elder sister . He used to come around a lot when I was young but when I turned six, he moved away. He moved back a month earlier this year when his daughter, Ruth, died in a car accident. I never met Ruth. But mother often told me to be more like her. I her words, Ruth felt more like her own.
"Hello Uncle Gary" I said.
As y eyes fell on him, my heart halted a pace.
It wasn't the white hair on his head or the fact that there were more wrinkles around his eyes, it even that he looked more older than Mother. No. It wasn't Uncle Gary at all.
It was him.
The man sitting beside him.
Lawrence.
"Hello Darling" Uncle Gary's arms were around me.
It was a fleeting moment under his gaze. His eyes were the same. But the old Lawrence, never looked at me that way.
"You have grown up so much" said Uncle Gary as he looked at me. I smiled at him.
"Your mother told me you are in college now?" he asked.
"Yes Uncle" I said. My mother approved the smile that had tagged along.
I sat beside Uncle Gary.
Even with him between us, I could smell the familiar cologne.
 
     Conversations. I failed to hear much of it. My mind was much preoccupied by the presence of this man. It was as if I could still feel his hands on my body. His breath on my neck. His tongue in forbidding places. Him. I wondered if it was the same reason why he didn't glance my way.

          His name was Lawrence. I met him on one of the frequent visits to father's office. He had kind eyes and the only one who seemed to treat me as an adult. He was older than father. But he was smaller in height and talked more softer. He came home a week later. Mother approved how I was so pleasant to him. He told me about his daughters. He had three. The oldest, Jude, was in the same grade as me.
" They will be coming for the summer. Do you want to come along to meet them?" he had asked so politely. I remembered feeling ecstatic at the thought of visiting his house. That summer, Mother approved me to go visit his place. She approved the well mannered Jude as well. Jude and me became inseparable. I saw Lawrence at the end of the day, when he came back from work. He always took out the time to talk to me. I ended up having dinner most days over there. When the last day of her stay arrived, Jude and me, we both cried. Lawrence still visited and I was often allowed to visit his library by mother. He was still kind.

Mother told me, in recent years Jude and he became estranged. I didn't tell her why. She and I, we didn't speak either.

  Uncle Gary waved at me from the rolled down window. I waved back. Lawrence looked at me. He sat beside him. As they drive away, I felt a fluttery feeling in my stomach somewhere. He hadn't spoken to me during the entire entourage of the evening. He was careful. I looked at mother standing beside me. If she knows what happened between us, she would send me off somewhere. Somewhere far.

  "Hello Lawrence" I said.
I stood outside his door. It had taken me a week to find out where he lived. He had moved.
I watched as his fact turned from that of astonishment to bewilderment.
" Won't you let your guest in?" I said.
He hesitated but then as if still dazed, he moved aside. The interior looked nothing like the old house. This one seemed more homely. Cozy. The door clicked shut a moment later.
"What are you doing here Daphne?" he asked. It was polite.
I turned to look at him. His hair was a mess. The maroon robe looked expensive. He had been sleeping. But didn't all working men do, at 3 am on a Monday?
"I wanted to see you" I said.
"I....it's past midnight" he barely stuttered.
His eyes were farting off the landmarks on my body. The blue wrap in dress had been the perfect choice.
I smiled as I walked towards him.
"Do you think about me Lawrence?" I asked as I took my time to walk over where he stood.
His eyes stayed where they were.
I pulled in the knot. The dress unwrapped the body of a 20 year old woman. The bulge under the robe did not disappoint. The dress was left on the ground, as I walked, naked. To him.
"What do you want Lawrence?" I whispered in his ear.
"I want you" he whispered back.
So I took his hand and led him to his bedroom. And I did. I gave him what he wanted.
Me.

    It was hours of muffled screams and dirty tricks. And when I was done, I Marcelle's at my work. Lawrence sat propped up in a chair. Head thrown back. Bounded by his ties he told me I could bind him with. His eyes were closed. He held a ball of sock in his mouth.
Everything else was pale, except for the red pouring out of his sliced genitals that I held in my hand. His inner thighs adorned the colour and so did the carpet below his feet. My hands trembled at the sight of it. It was the most beautiful piece of art I had even created. The most perfect one. Just like how I imagined.
"You wanted me Lawrence" I said "You made me this"
I laughed sitting on the bed still astounded by what I had created.
Jude would know why I did this. She knew. I told her when she turned 18.
As I sat there waiting for someone to eventually  find me, I knew.
The eight year old little Daphne who lost her hymen to this rapist, wouldn't be scared of him anymore. Her Uncle Lawrence.