A Parable
Mary turned the radio off as she left the highway and turned onto a country boulevard lined with maple trees. She rolled down the window and turned off the air conditioning. The scents of apple blossoms and wild flowers hung in the warm summer air. She slowed the car to a near crawl to admire the view, the view of nature she saw little of in her city travels. She rounded a small bend, which gave way to a clearing, opening into a wide field of green dotted lazily with dandelions. The car stopped, seemingly of its own desire. She got out and inhaled deeply.
“I must get out of the city more often.” She said, stretching her limbs with pleasure. She smiled with satisfaction as she surveyed the field, slowly scanning her eyes over the horizon.
“Help me.” She heard a voice, which seemed to come out of the very air. She turned to see a man tied to a tree, wearing nothing save a loin cloth. She seemed unable to move and remained still for some time, staring. Her body felt paralyzed.
“Please help me.” The voice said again, this time clearly coming from the man tied to the tree.
She took a first tentative step, a second, putting one high heeled clad foot ahead of the other, the going made more difficult as the pointed heels sunk into the soft grass.
“I should have worn sandals.” She said softly to herself as she guided her way towards him. As she drew nearer, his features became clearer, revealing shoulder length brown hair, thick and wild on his head, hair not washed for some time if her eyes did not deceive her. She saw signs of violent struggle or torture; deep red scratches upon his face, deep bruises of blue and purple on his chest and arms. She stopped a few feet away, out of arm’s reach, although she saw her wariness to be unneeded: the man was bound to the tree with thick ropes, by the arms, torso, and around his feet.
“How did you come to be tied to a tree?” She asked as she drew slowly closer. He remained silent and instead looked upon her with dark eyes, intense brown eyes filled with desire. His eyes moved over her body, almost tasting of her tanned flesh, seeming to remove, as if his desire alone could manage the feat, her skirt, which hung loose and short over her thighs.
“Come closer.” He said, his eyes examining, prodding her. She moved forward, within a foot, seeing his wounds with more detail. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“Your smell pleases me.” He said as he attempted to smile, but the effort hurt him visible, pain flashing over his face.
“Who did this to you?” She asked.
He attempted to shift his position, but the restraints prevented any movement and again, a looked of pain swept across his features.
“I don’t know how to answer. I have been tied to this tree all of my life.”
She shook her head in a mixture of disbelief and lack of comprehension, blonde ringlets moving in rhythm as she moved her pretty face.
“Perhaps you fail to understand my question. Why are you tied to this tree?”
“I hear you and understand. I repeat to you, I have always been tied to this tree. It is necessary and natural.” His voice was deep and pleasant to her ears, containing little hint of the pain his wounds were causing him.
“Natural?” She asked, more confused. “A man tied to a tree is not the natural state of being for a human. You were born free, not shackled.”
She looked at him for closely. She saw thick red welts around his wrists, skin grown raw over time through contact with the ropes. She looked down at his loin cloth, which not being tied tightly or of much substance, covered almost nothing. She blushed and averted her eyes.
“Your modesty pleases me.” He said, the low confidence of his voice again surprising her, filling her with a strange thrilling pleasure. The voice sounded as if it belonged to someone she had known all of her life.
“Do you wish for me to free you?” She asked.
He let out a low laugh, almost too softly for her to hear.
“You have a strange notion of things.” He answered, winking at her.
“How do you mean?” A tingle of fear shot through her mind and raced down her spine. She felt danger, a feeling without factual representation, but she felt danger coming from his as sure as his lust for her tanned flesh.
“It is not possible for one responsible for my entrapment to free me.”
She gashed in shock, holding her breath for some moments, trying to understand his cryptic words.
“Listen, I didn’t tie you to this tree.” She said, feeling anger at his constant absurdity.
“That is true, but maybe it is for your benefit that I am tied.”
“How difficult it is to understand you!” She exclaimed, feeling a tickle of sweat on her forehead. “Why will you not listen to reason? I didn’t not tie or wish you to be tied to this tree.”
“Reason? He mocked. “It is precisely since the age of reason that I have been tied to this tree.”
She growled in frustration, balling her hands into fists.
“Do you wish to be free?” She asked, slowly, taking care to pronounce each word clearly, as if speaking to a child. He smiled at her and for a moment closed his eyes.
“The question you pose is seen from the wrong side of logical thinking. Do you wish me to be free?”
She stamped her foot and again shook blond curls in exasperation. She turned and started towards the car, half expecting him to call out to her. He remained silent for the time it took to walk to her car, retrieve a pocket knife from the glove box and to return to him. As she came near, he smiled.
“I see you made a decision.”
She nodded her head and moved to his side so as to reach his restraints. As she placed the knife against the rope, he spoke.
“Take heed when changing the nature of things.”
“More cryptic utterances.” She said with a sigh.
She worked slowly, taking are not to cut his skin, which had been badly wounded already. Soon the ropes began to fall away, first from his hands, then his torso, and finally, his feet. He tried to stand and to take a step, his legs wobbly under him, filled with weakness. He shook his arms gently, a grimace of pain passing over his features. He stumbled and nearly fell, leaning on her shoulder, unable to stand on his own.
Once again he inhaled deeply, slowly, which brought a dreamy smile to his face.
“You are quite attractive.” He said. He gripped her forearm, tightly, which caused her to cry out in pain. She attempted to pull away, but his strength surprised her. She felt the legs give way as he pushed her backwards, a sharp pain in her neck as her head landed on the ground. She heard, rather than felt, her skirt being ripped from her legs as the smooth skin of his palms parted her thighs.
“Be still.” He said as he entered her. She knew no more.
She woke some time later, in the dark. She could feel his presence near, but could not see him. She sensed movement to her left to see him standing over her, a thick branch in his hands.
“I gave you freedom and pleasure.” She cried softly to herself.
He smiled and lifted the branch high over his head.
“I know.”
No comments:
Post a Comment