Missy's Gentle Giant (25 page)

Ben wandered aimlessly along the
beach, occasionally stopping to pick up a shell and throw it out to sea. 
He cursed himself for maybe saying the wrong things.  Missy had asked him
to explain his scar, and he hadn’t.  What right did he have to force her
about hers when hers went much deeper, hurt more, cut deeper than his? 
Ah—but the reason behind it—the rude awakening which hurt—being forced to
accept what couldn’t be changed—Missy was suffering it too.

Maybe it had been a mistake to
bring her out here.  Maybe what she really needed was some outside help,
not being alone.  He couldn’t understand her terror or the terror of being
deaf.  He could only equate it with being alone on the island.  Maybe
he should have waited longer.  Maybe he was hurting her more by this
trick.

With grim determination, he cut
across the island now heading for the airstrip.  He’d get the radio and
take it back, call Missy’s mother if she wanted, maybe have the pilot come and
pick them up if she wanted to leave.  He’d promised not to hurt her, but
maybe he’d just done it by bringing her out here.  Maybe she’d want to go
back.

After getting the radio, Ben was so
intent on getting back quickly he cut across the dunes rather than follow the
shoreline.  It was later than he thought, and the sun was slipping lower
in the west.  After a while it occurred to him he might have overshot the
house by walking through the middle of the island, so he headed west to at
least get to where he could see the shoreline.  For nearly and hour he
wandered, not really worried, because all he needed was to find the shore and
follow it to eventually find the house.  But now he was worried about
leaving Missy too long.

A wave of relief hit him when he
spotted the water.  He noticed then he was also sunburned.  Thirst
struck him too, and he felt as if his mouth was filled with cotton.  He
shouldn’t have gone so far.  As he got closer to the water, he felt as if
he needed to rinse some of the heat from his body so it would help his
thirst.  Setting the radio on the ground by a coconut tree, he walked to
the shoreline and waded in up to his knees.  Bending, he threw water over
his shoulders and turned to start walking the rest of the way back

He didn’t see the man-o-war swish
in and its tentacles wrap around his legs.  Burning fire shot up Ben’s
legs and caused him to drop.  Frantically he reached down and pulled the
tentacles away from his legs.  Crying out with pain in his hands and legs
now, he tried to get farther on shore, stumbled and fell.  Again he cried
out as fire shot up to his groin.  He sat on shore and rubbed sand on his
legs and hands, but it was useless toward helping the pain.  For several
moments he rolled around on the beach until he realized nothing helped. 
He had to get back to the house.  He crawled to the tree to get the radio,
but his hands hurt too much to pick it up.  Slowly he raised himself to
his feet and started limping along the shore to the house.

Missy was surprised to see the sun
so low in the western sky, looked up at the kitchen clock and noticed most of
the day had gone.  Had she spent almost an entire day just looking at herself? 
And where was Ben?  Putting him out of her mind as best she could, she’d
fixed dinner.  Still no sign of Ben.  She started cleaning up her
mess.

As soon as she finished, she walked
around the house turning on lights.  As she did so, she also looked
outside hoping to catch sight of Ben, but she didn’t.  Finally she went to
the living room, pulled a book from the bookshelf and sat on a chair. 

When she opened the book, she saw
nothing but a blur.  Where the hell was Ben?  Why had she sent him
away?  Why hadn’t he come back?  Maybe he went swimming and—oh
no!  Panic struck her.  She jumped up from the chair and ran from the
house toward the beach.  Something must have happened.  Looking up
the beach, she squinted to make her eyes see farther; then she looked down the
beach the other way.  Nothing.  In desperation she turned toward the
house and saw it was well lighted.  He couldn’t miss it.  Maybe if
she looked on the other side of the house.  She took three steps and saw a
movement in the corner of her eye.  Her breath caught and she turned just
as Ben fell.

“Ben!  Ben, I’m coming!” 
She started running toward him.  As she ran closer, she saw him sitting
helplessly on the sand with his hands outstretched.  Out of breath, she
stopped right in front of him and dropped to her knees.  “What happened?”

“Burning—on fire—hands and
legs—man-o-war—on fire—”

“Come, I’ll help you.”  She
got up and tugged at him.  “Come, I know what to do.”  She pulled him
again and Ben finally helped her enough to get to his feet.  He was shaky
and weak in the knees because of the excruciating pain.  Groaning with his
weight against her, Missy tried to hold him up knowing it was impossible.

“Hurt—”

“Oh hurry!  Come on.” 
She urged.  Slowly she pulled him to the house and into the kitchen where
he dropped on a chair.

“Thirsty—hurting—”

“In a minute.”  She flung open
the cabinet door and knocked two bottles over while she checked through
them.  “Thank goodness!”  She pulled out a bottle, reached in a
drawer for two dish towels and soaked them.  The immediate whiff Ben got
knocked his head back and cleared his sinuses.

“What is it?”

“Ammonia.”  She handed him a
cloth.  “Put it on the hurting places.”  She bent down to start
soaking his legs.

“Do you know what you’re
doing?”  He wiped his hands in the towel.

“We used it all the time on the
beach.”  Carefully she made sure she touched every one of the red streaks
running up his legs.  He just sat there staring at her.  She glanced
up at him.  “Here, give me your hands.”  She rested them on his
thighs, wrapped the towel around them, reached for the ammonia and wet the
towel again.  After a few moments, she wrapped another towel around his
ankle and foot and lifted his foot to a nearby chair.  Then she jumped up
and ran to the bathroom.  Ben sat there dazed, unable to move.  All
he could think about was hurting and being thirsty and wondering where she
went.

“Feeling better yet?”  She
came back into the kitchen.

“Much.”  He groaned. 
“Thirsty.”

“Still hurting?”  She went to
the sink and filled a glass of water.

“Not as much, not nearly so much.”

She held the glass up to his
mouth.  “Don’t drink too fast.”  She put the glass down.

“More, please.”

“In a little while, too much too
fast causes cramps.”  She looked over his sunburn and shook her
head.  “Come Ben, we’ve got to do something about the rest of you.”

“The rest?”

“Your sunburn.”  She pulled
him up, ignored the towels dropping onto the carpet and helped him to the
bathroom.

“Sauna?”  He stopped in the
middle of the room.

“Cool water for the burn.” 
She smiled and showed her dimples.  “It’s not hot.”  She reached for
the snap and zipper on his shorts.  Ben stared stunned while she pulled
off his shorts and boxers in one smooth motion.  Standing up, she grabbed
him around the waist, led him to the sauna and helped him climb into swirling
cool water.

“Missy I—”

“Wait, I forgot something.” 
She turned and flew out of the room.  Ben shook his head.  She’d
undressed him?  What happened while he was gone?  Did she know how
she looked in the sheer gown with her hair the way it is?  Even with the
diminishing pain, he was aroused.  His whole body ached to touch her and
taste her as she flitted around being the perfect nurse.  Slowly sliding
down in the cool water until it covered his burning shoulders, he closed his
eyes. 

“This should take care of
things.”  Showing him her beautiful dimples, she carried a bottle and a
tall glass.

“What is it?”  Ben’s eyes went
from her dimples to her firm breasts.

“Vinegar for your bath and water to
drink.”

“Ah, water.”  He smiled.

“First the vinegar.”  She
opened the lid and poured half the bottle into the sauna.

“Are you sure it works?  Or
are you trying to pickle me?”

Missy laughed as she put the lid on
the bottle and set it on the counter.  She held the water glass up to his
mouth. 

“Just a little at a time, now.”

“Honey, it tastes salty.”

“Mm, just a little salt.”

“You put salt in it?  Why?”

“Because body fluids are about five
percent salt, and you’re dehydrated.”  Her dimples showed again. 
“We’ve got to build your fluid balance.”

“And the vinegar?”

“The acid helps the sunburn better
than anything.”

“It smells terrible too.”

“But only while you’re in it. 
When you’re dry you won’t smell.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mm, we’ve use vinegar to rinse our
hair for years.”  She grinned and turned her head toward his face. 
“Does my hair smell like vinegar?”

Ben sniffed and kissed her
hair.  When she glanced back at him, his eyes were flooded with
love.  “No your hair smells wonderful.”  His voice was husky. 
“Where did you learn this?”

“Oh, here and there.  Mama
taught me a lot of it.”  Her dimples appeared again.  “Time for
another swallow of water.”  She held up the cup.

Ben took a grateful drink and
reached out for her waist.  She didn’t pull away.  “Honey, I love
you.”

“I know, and I love you.” She
kissed his nose and rose.  “I’ll just be a minute.”  Missy went into
the bedroom, yanked off the sheet and went to the linen closet.  Satin may
feel great, but she couldn’t imagine it being at all good with sunburn because
it generated heat.  Quickly she replaced the sheet with a percale
one.  Then she went back to the bathroom.  Ben’s eyes were closed.

“Feeling better?”

“Mm, most of the pain is gone.”

“You’re still hurting?”

Ben opened his eyes and glanced
upward.  “No, I’m fine.”  He reached up and touched her cheek.

“But you just said—”

“Another pain—my libido.”  Ben
watched her mouth the word a couple of times while she searched for the
meaning. 

“Oh!”  Her face colored
crimson.

“It’s okay, I just don’t want to
get out of here right away.”

“Yes, I understand.”  She
blushed and turned away to the bedroom.  “Call me when you’re
ready.”  Missy sat on the side of the bed and wrung her hands.  She’d
loused up.  She loused up everything.  Even her gown was filthy and
wet in spots now.  Tears welled behind her eyes.  So much for giving
and showing him her love.

A little voice inside Ben told him
the wrong thing was happening.  He swallowed hard and looked toward the
bathroom door.

“Honey, will you come here?”

“Yes.”  Missy almost instantly
appeared in the doorway biting her lip.

“I need another drink, and you put
the glass way over there.”  He smiled when he saw her uncertainty. 
She was trying so hard to please him.  What could he do to please her
back?

Quickly she grabbed the glass,
dropped to her knees and held it up to his lips.

“Oh, that’s so good.”  He
smiled and saw her dimples again.  “How long do I have to stay in this
smelly stuff?”

“Until you stop hur—burning.”

“Help me get up then.”  He
reached for her.

She reached out and helped him
up.  Although his arousal was obvious, she seemed to not notice, turned
for a towel and held it up for him.  He stood patiently while she
carefully patted most of his body and then handed him the towel.  He wrapped
it around, patted himself dry where she hadn’t touched him and let her lead him
to the bedroom.  She stood behind him until he lay on the bed on his
stomach.  Then she reached for a second sheet and covered just his
unburned buttocks.  Quickly her worried eyes looked over the red marks on
his hands and legs.  “Are you sure you feel better?”  Unconsciously
she touched the scar on his thigh.

“I feel fine.”  He smiled.

“If I ask you something, will you
tell me?”

“Of course.  What do you want
to know?”

“You didn’t want to tell me
before.”

“Anything, I don’t want you
wondering about things between us.”

“I have a scar you can’t see.”

“Yes, I know.”  He knew what
she wanted now just by the touch of her fingers on his thigh and groaned
inwardly.

“I don’t want—can’t talk about my
scar.”

“I know that too.”

“Can you tell me about the scar on
your thigh?  I know you don’t want to—”  She hesitated.  “But
can you?”

Pulling the sheet to cover himself,
Ben sat up to face her, reached up, pulled her down in front of him on the bed
and stroked her cheek.  He stared into her worried, frightened eyes. 
“For you I will talk about it.”  He took her other hand and placed it on
his scar.  “Fourteen or fifteen years ago everything started to fall apart
at my house.  Mom, well all of us needed Dad, especially then, and he
couldn’t handle everything.”

“All of us?”

“Yeah, Mom, Connie and me.  We
all needed him badly right then.”

“Connie?  The girl in your
billfold?”

Ben looked surprised.  “Yeah,
she was fourteen when the picture was taken.  It’s the last one taken in
fact.”

“Did you love her?”

“Oh yes, she was my life.”  He
hardly smiled when he answered.  “She used always joke about being my
other half.”  He held Missy’s hand on the scar.

Missy saw the pain in Ben’s eyes,
his muscles ripple in his cheek, and she tried to pull away.  Asking him
to talk about it had been too much.  “Forget it, I shouldn’t have—”

“No.”  He gripped her hand
tighter and slid it over the scar.  “You’re part of me now, and you need
to know.”  He smiled.  “Connie was my twin sister.”

“Your sister?  A twin?”

“Yeah, and well, it seems while Mom
was carrying us, I took all the good and Connie got all the bad.”  He
rubbed his finger on Missy’s hand while he held it in place. 
Unconsciously his fingers spelled out random words as he spoke.  “So when
we were born, I was big and healthy and normal.  She was tiny, scrawny and
sick—had a bad heart and kidney.  Mom spent a lot of time in hospitals and
doctors’ offices with her, but eventually she seemed to grow better and do all
right.  We were very close and did everything together.  I even
forgot she was sickly sometimes until she was fourteen.  Then her health
started downhill.