Chapter 6: Life With Kiva (Part 1 of 2)
When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful worldI wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here
-RadioheadFor some reason, I have a bad feeling about Mr. Clayton in bed 12. He was admitted with chest pain but so far his tests are coming back normal. The EKG shows no worrisome changes. Serum troponin levels are undetectable. Vital signs are fine. But something feels foreboding. His primary nurse, Jennifer, feels the same way. Some say experienced nurses develop a “sixth sense” when something is about to go wrong. Maybe we’re just sensitive to subtle cues we don’t fully understand.
Otherwise, it’s a rather slow day in the ICU. Today, I’m wearing my supervisor hat. I don’t have any patients of my own. I’m here to help my nurses and keep the unit running on track. In bed 10, a respiratory therapist administers Duonebs to a patient with COPD. The woman in bed 9 wants a sleeping pill. The man in bed 8 is on a mechanical ventilator. And at the nurses station, Frank, the hunky senior resident, is hitting on one of our new young nurses. I’m having none of it. Not on my unit. Time to break it up.
“Jaycie, go into bed 11 and help Katherine reposition Mrs. Miller,” I order.
“Yes, ma’am,” the fresh faced nurse answers before dutifully heading to the room.
“And you,” I turn toward Frank, “don’t you have work to do?”
At 6’1” and possessing a ripped body, Frank cuts quite a figure. The broad shoulders and wide chest taper into a flat waist and tight butt. Okay, I’ll admit it. He has a cute butt. His face, though, is the stuff of fantasy. The dark complexion, high cheekbones, short black curly hair, small trimmed mustache and killer smile all have a dreamy quality. He’s rumored to be a ladies man constantly on the prowl. I can see why women get seduced by this guy.
“Yeah, I got plenty of work,” he answers. “But first, I want to say what a privilege it is to be on the same shift as the renowned Kiva.” The gentle eyes dance all over me. “I heard a lot of good things about you and always hoped I’d work with you. Well, today, I get my wish. And who knows? Maybe we’ll learn a thing or two about each other,” he tells me in his best suave voice as he looks at me like he sees my soul.
I give him a faint smile as I resume rounding on my unit. What he will learn about me is that I’m all business in the ICU. Friends sometimes ask if guys often hit on me at work. The answer is rarely. First, most guys know I’m married. Secondly, I learned the art of being collegial while working like a machine. A woman who comes across as smart and self assured can be intimidating. Casanovas like Frank will cautiously approach and flirt around the periphery until they realize that’s as far as they get. I resume work.
“Mr. Clayton?” I hear Jennifer scream in from the bed 12 room. “Mr Clayton....MR. CLAYTON!...Call a code...CODE BLUE ROOM 12!
I hurry to the room to see Jennifer checking the pulse of the unconscious 65 year old patient.
“Jennifer, what do you have,” I ask with a sense of urgency.
“He went out suddenly,” the nurse explains. “No pulse. Monitor is showing V Tach.”
“Code blue has been called,” I inform. “Let’s start CPR.”
I position my hands on the patient’s sternum as Jennifer hastily prepares the air bag and mask. I begin my compressions pushing down at least two inches on the breast bone before letting it recoil at a rate of 100 compressions per minute. Jennifer tilts the head, seals the mask over the mouth and nose before squeezing the oxygen bag.
Within a minute, the code team arrives, one scrub clad body after another storming into the room. The hallway has become a chaotic scene as onlookers gather.
“Bring the crash cart in here...and the defibrillator,” I scream. “Serena, get a second IV started.” By now the room has become cramped. I order Katrina, a large strong nurse to relieve me working chest compressions. From among the small crowd, Frank emerges.
“I’m the code leader,” he asserts. “V tach and no pulse. Prepare to shock.”
Another nurse carries the defibrillator forward. The limp body rises and falls with Katrina’s brisk compressions as I place the defibrillator pads on the appropriate places on the chest.
“Stop chest compressions,” Frank barks. “Everybody stand back...Is everybody clear?...Charge...and...SHOCK.” Clayton’s body jerks upward with the electrical jolt. “Check the rhythm,” Frank instructs. “Ventricular fibrillation ....Resume CPR.”
By this time, the pulmonologist arrived on the scene to intubate. As the plastic tube is being inserted into the patient’s airway, I decide to clean house and establish some order.
“Maria, after the intubation, you and Jennifer work the oxygen, Katrina and Heather will alternate chest compressions. I’ll get two more nurses to replace you after ten minutes. Sarah, you will handle the medications. Caitlyn, you’re the log recorder. For now, everyone else please leave the room and wait outside. I’ll tell you when I need you.”
The intubation completed, Frank orders another defibrillation with no effect. Chest compressions are resumed. Epinephrine is given by vein followed by another defibrillation and then...
“Sinus rhythm...normal sinus rhythm,” someone exclaims.
“Do we have a pulse?” Frank asks.
“Yes,” Katrina answers. Blood pressure is 80 systolic.
“Let’s start an norepinephrine drip,” our handsome code leader orders. “And prepare amiodarone and call Cardiology.”
Eventually we reach a modicum of some stability, however, the situation remains tenuous. The blood pressure and pulse are acceptable but not without powerful vasoconstrictive drugs. Mr. Clayton remains sedated on a ventilator. An emergency echocardiogram was performed. Suspected of having a myocardial infarction, the patient is taken to the cardiac catheterization lab for an emergency procedure. With Clayton temporarily out of our ICU, we collectively catch our breath but are far from finished. There is documentation to complete, a family to notify, a room to clean. Several workers chat briefly at the nurses station trying to unwind before taking on the next challenge. From behind, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“You are impressive,” Frank croons. “The way you handled yourself in there. I never saw anyone keep a code that organized before. I mean it. You live up to your reputation. I mean...you are the best.” I keep on my poker face.
“And I was wondering,” he continues. “A group of us are going to meet at Doc Watson’s Pub after work...and...we’d be thrilled and honored if you’d join us. And...maybe you and I could chat a little bit and....maybe get to know each other a little.”
Not a bad kinda sorta come on, I thought. A group outing. It’s a low risk, high yield move for him and he’s hoping it will lead to something more.
“Thanks,” I tell him, my voice low and flat. “But I’ll be here late doing paperwork. Then, I need to get home to my husband and daughter.”
“OK,” he responds, “It was great working with you and I hope we can talk again soon. I meant every word I said. You make life better for everyone around here. Yes ma’am, ‘Life With Kiva’. Sounds like a novel. Perhaps you and I can write it some day.” He flashes me that killer smile as he turns to leave. From behind me, I hear Sarah chuckling.
“You shot down Frank, Kiva?...Nice job,” she giggles. “Kiva sends another plane down in smoke. Not many women say no to Frank.”
“Oh shut up,” I tease back. “The nerve of that guy. He must know I’m married.”
“Oh, Frank doesn’t care,” Sarah laughs. “I know at least two married women who slept with him.” I notice her glancing to the side as we spoke. “Don’t look now, girl, but it looks like you got another boyfriend.”
“What?”
“Over there,” she grins motioning her eyes toward the opposite end of the nursing station.
I turned my head in that direction to see a young man sitting at computer behind the counter. Short and slightly built, the fair skinned face was pointed in my direction. I noticed the very light blond hair and pale blue eyes behind gold metal framed glasses. What immediately disturbed me was that the eyes were fixed on me with a gaze of someone who has been transported to a fantasy world. The man, who appeared no older than his mid-twenties, obviously lacked awareness. My eyes met his briefly before turning back toward Sarah.
“Look how he’s looking at you,” Sarah giggled. “He looks like Al Pacino in The Godfather when he was hit by the “thunderbolt” by looking at the Sicilian girl,” suggested my friend, who has seen every movie ever made. “Damn, Kiva, you’re drawing them in like flies to a horse’s behind.”
“How do you know he isn’t staring at you,” I asked.
“Because he’s been tracking you for the last fifteen minutes.”
“This is creepy,” I complained. “Who is he?”
“His name is Carl Wankum,” she said, trying hard not to laugh. “He works in IT. He came up here to fix a computer.”
“Seriously?...That’s his name?” I sighed.
“Yep.”
“Well, just as long as he fixes the computer and gets out of here ASAP.”
I resume my activity on the unit, backing up my nurses, preparing for Mr. Clayton’s return from the cath lab, which I knew would take up a lot of resources. Occasionally, I glance at the young man at the computer and each time, I catch him gazing at me. Finally, I head back to the manager’s office to catch some time alone and finish some administrative tasks.
I shut the door, sit at my desk, sip coffee at let my mind wander for a minute to unwind. It’s been two weeks since my fight with Luanne, and only now are my boobs beginning to feel normal again. I still feel haunted by Luanne’s strange meltdown after the fight and I wonder about her backstory. Maybe I’ll get my chance. I was surprised when Luanne called me a few days ago. She got my number from the school’s parent directory. She called to invite Clarissa to her home to play with her daughter Madison. I will allow it. Luanne even suggested we share a carpool driving our daughters to dance school on Saturdays. I accepted it since it would help ease the burden of our hectic schedules. We were cordial with each other but oddly, neither of us said anything about the fight, as if it never happened.
I think of Kelli’s upcoming championship cage fight at Billy’s. I know she can’t wait to get her hands on Jolene. After what I witnessed and experienced with Jolene, I hope Kelli beats the crud out of her. As for my next fight, I have no idea what’s next.
My thoughts are interrupted by a gentle tap on the door. As I open, I immediately feel a chill down my spine to find myself face to face with the nerdy guy who’s been staring at me out on the unit. Oh no, he found me, was my first thought. At about five foot, five inches with a wiry body, dressed in brown trousers and a yellow collared shirt without a tie, he first stammers, then proceeds to speak.
“Um...Uh...are you...uh...Kiva?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh...um...Hi.” The pale skin flushes red in the face. His body becomes tense as the shoulders droop. “I’m Carl from IT.” He pauses. “I just, um, finished replacing hardware on one of your computers....And, uh, I need you to sign off on the work order.” The palms of his hands are sweaty as he hands me a paper.
He is obviously intimidated and clearly unaccustomed to being in the presence of women. I’ve attracted guys like this before. I’d much rather deal with guys like Frank who are socially savvy enough to read an uninterested woman’s cues and bail out before embarrassing themselves. Inexperienced geeks like Carl, on the other hand, can make for very uncomfortable situations. I sign the form and return it to my wannabe paramour.
“Thanks,” he says. He stands still on my office for several seconds.
“Anything else?” I ask.
“Um...um...” I notice sweat stains from his armpits on his shirt. “Uh,...do you think, uh, you and I...could get together some time and....uh.”
“And what?” I ask as his eyes drop to the floor.
“Uh...Oh, man, I forgot what I was going to say....Well,...Bye.”
“Goodbye sir,” I reply. “Thanks for fixing our computer.” I lead him toward the door as he nearly stumbles over his own feet. Hope I don’t see this guy often, I think to myself.
No such luck. I see Carl make several appearances on our ICU over the next week. Each time, he was fooling with some equipment, and yes, he couldn’t stop looking my way.
“Carl,” I said gruffly, “Why are you here?”
“Oh, um, we’re taking inventory on computers and electronic communication devices.”
“For a week? Look, this is an ICU. If you don’t have official business, you don’t belong here. If I see you here again, I’ll find out from your supervisor if you’re telling the truth.”
“Uh..uh..um..,” he stutters as his hands tremble. “No ma’am, that won’t be necessary. I’m leaving,” he says in his nasal voice before lurching down the hallway, out the double door and out of the unit. I head back to my office.
My Carl-free time would not last long. The administrative assistant booked a 1:00 pm appointment for a person named “Claire” to see me. I leave the door open and wait.
“Are you Kiva?,” In the doorway stands a petite woman, about 5’3” and thin with light brown hair in a bowl cut. The delicate face is accentuated by large brown framed glasses which seemed to magnify her eyes. Her tiny upturned nose and small round lips gave her a rather mousy appearance.” I answer her question in the affirmative.
“I’m Claire, I work in Social Services,” she answers in a high pitched familiar nasal voice.....”Claire Wankum.”
“Claire...Wankum?” I’m getting disoriented.
“Yes,” she answers. “I believe you met my brother Carl.”
“The guy from IT? Yes, he’s been up here, apparently to work on some computers. I met him briefly.”
“Well, I’m afraid it’s more than that,” she replies, the eyes behind the spectacles seem to be growing. I have a dreadful feeling that something very weird is about to happen.
“You see,” she continues, “Carl was offered a nice position with a high tech company in California. He has two weeks to accept it. At first he was very excited and even scouted out apartments near the company. But now, he seems to be changing his mind. I didn’t understand it. Last night, I had a long conversation with him. Finally, I got him to admit that he met a girl. He says he doesn’t want to leave her,...so,...he’d like to stay here and decline the job offer. Of course, I don’t agree with his decision. He wouldn’t tell me her identity. But then, I came across something. Then it became clear to me that the girl is ....you!
“Are you kidding me?” I shot back. “That’s ridiculous. I had two brief awkward conversations with your brother and that’s all there is to it.”
“That’s not how he sees it,” Claire responded. “He has very deep feelings toward you.”
“I’m afraid to inform you that you’re brother is fantasizing,” I shot back.
“And what is your role?” she asks. “What are you doing to lead him on?”
“What am I doing?” My voice getting louder, my tone becoming more angry. “Aside from the fact that I’m several years older than your brother and married with a child, look at me and look at him. Why on earth would a woman like me ever want anything to do with him?” I realize right away the arrogance of that statement. I never would have said it if I wasn’t provoked.
“Look Kiva,” Claire starts. “I realize Carl isn’t much to look at. He spends most of his spare time gaming on line and messing around with electronics. I’m sure you realize he’s shy and let’s face it, he can be awkward and nervous around women. He never dated and I’m quite sure he’s a virgin. In high school and college, good looking girls made sport of him. They faked flirting with him, getting him all worked up and turned him into a laughing stock.”
“And you think I did that to him?” I grumbled.
“Well, we all know how cruel women with your looks can be,” Claire answered. “Since high school, I’ve been in a lot of fights with mean girls. I know I don’t look like a fighter and I’ve taken a lot of beatings but I’m not afraid to stand up for my brother.”
“This is totally absurd,” I protested. “I think I’ve heard enough.” I was about to show her the door but then I recalled something she said at the beginning of our conversation. “Did you say you found something that indicated I was Carl’s girl.”
“Yes,” the petite social worker answers. “Carl came to my apartment yesterday to fix my laptop. He apparently transferred some of his own files onto my computer to work on. He moved the files back to his computer then deleted them from mine...except one he apparently forgot.”
Claire pulls a stack of papers from her bag, handing them to me. “Here, I printed it. Please read this. Carl has apparently been writing a novel.”
As soon as I glanced at the document, my eyes nearly jumped out of my head.
Life With Kiva
Chapter 1: We Meet
Chaos surrounds me in the ICU as I endeavor to service the computer. A patient’s heart stopped beating. There are doctors and nurses scurrying everywhere. Several are speaking at once. A man’s life is on the line. I peer into the room from the hallway. There she is, silhouetted against the window shade. She is a statuesque beacon in a torrent of confusion. Her long dark hair is tied up into a bun. Skillfully, she directs her nurses like a field general in battle. They all depend on her for guidance as she effortlessly organizes the attack. Her beauty and intelligence shine as all revolve around her like the sun. I learn that her name is Kiva.Finally, the battle is over but she knows the war has yet to be won. She steps out into the hallway to regroup. A very foolish man approaches her, obviously smitten. The woman sends him away like a goddess deflecting a silly mere mortal. From my chair, I see her talking to another nurse. And then, she looks my way. Our eyes meet. Instantly, I know she has met her match. She resumes talking to her friend, but I am not fooled. Kiva tries to not make it look obvious but she cannot hide her desire. The diva looks at me again. And again. She tries to suppress her heart racing within her but she knows resistance is futile. Indeed, she cannot deny her destiny. I have hooked the biggest fish in the pond. Now It’s a matter of time before I reel her in. Kiva will be mine.“What the FUCK?” I exclaimed trying to keep my voice down. “I can assure you this is NOT how it happened. Your brother is fantasizing.”
“And you did nothing to inspire it?” Claire spoke with a hint of interrogation. “Tell me the truth. Are you playing mind games with Carl?”
I look at her with contempt. “No. Fucking. Way,” I snarl.
“There’s more,” she said coldly. “Keep reading.”
I flip through the printed pages, stopping at a random spot, horrified by what I see.
Chapter 4: The Encounter
The warm summer air is enchanting on this beautiful starlit night. Kiva holds my arm as we stroll along the promenade. As usual, she looks ravishing in her blue evening gown as she leans into my shoulder, her long flowing hair tickling my face as she turns to plant a kiss on my cheek.“Carl, that was a lovely dinner,” she whispers, “I’m having such a wonderful time tonight. Thank you for bringing me here. I love this place.” We walk past store windows, bustling cafes, and art galleries, taking it all in, talking, laughing, and holding on to each other.
We both notice another couple walking toward us in the opposite direction. They are holding hands, but the woman is looking at me seductively. She is maybe an inch taller than Kiva. Her breasts are enormous, likely a 42G bra size. As we pass, her eyes give me an alluring look. Her tongue motions in a circular fashion to indicate her lustful desire for me. Kiva sees it.
“Hey bitch,” she shouts. “Don’t even think of looking at my man. He’s MINE.”“Fuck you, bitch,” the other woman counters. “You’re jealous of my tits. I already have a man. I can have any man I want.” The women exchange words.“Whore”
“Skank”
“Scum”
“Cxnt”
“
I know,” Kiva exclaims, “let’s fight this out now to see who the better woman is. We can split the cost of a motel. And let’s fight nude so our men can see what a real woman looks like.”
“That’s fine with me, bitch,” growls Kiva’s rival. “And the real woman is going to be me when I destroy you with my tits.”I’m getting nauseated. The story is so absurd, so cartoonish, and so....disgusting....And I’m the star of it. I flip a few more pages and force myself to read more.
After we push the furniture to the side, the men prepare their women. With Kiva standing in front of me, I unzip the back of her blue evening gown, gently sliding the shoulder straps down her arms, then slipping the gown to her feet, watching her step out of it. Next I pull down her hose leaving her bare legged. I give her a soft hug as my hands reach behind her back, unclamping the bra strap. I step back and watch her beautiful breasts spill forth as I remove the garment. Finally, my fingers guide the cotton covering of her womanhood down to her ankles as she dutifully lifts her feet allowing me to separate her from her panties. Totally nude, she falls into me for one last embrace before the battle, my one hand is on her upper back, the other on her lush derrière. Her nipples are fully erect and hard as steel. We kiss. She whispers in my ear, “I’m doing this for you, babe...my stud muffin.”The women meet in the center of the room, nose to nose and chest to chest. Kiva looks to be outweighed by about thirty pounds. Her shapely orbs are dwarfed by the other woman’s massive mammaries. They stare at each other with disdain. Finally, they lock up, each woman seizing the other in a struggle for control. After a few seconds, Kiva is lifted off her feet and thrown to the floor.
“You got her, Daniella,” the other man shouts.
“Get up Kiva,” I plead.“OH...MY...GOD! Okay, I am completely creeped out,” I tell Claire. You’re brother needs to get out of here. He needs to go to California. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. Never again!”
“He would be going to California if not for you,” she asserts.
“Oh, you think I encouraged this fantasy world of his?” I snap.
“Read some more,” she she says pointing to the papers. I flip over a few pages, my eyes fixing on a series of random passages.
Kiva has fought bravely, going toe to toe with the larger woman, but Daniella is too strong and too heavy. I know Kiva is weakening. Her movements are slower, her blows are sloppier. Her skin shines with sweat, her matted long dark brown hair, falls in tangles over her face and shoulders. I fear it is a matter of time before my angel’s demise............
.......Kiva’s arms are pinned down above her head as Daniella’s lies on top of her body. I see my baby squirm helplessly under Daniella’s weight, her poor tits crushed by the larger woman’s gigantic jugs. Her cute trimmed bush bobs up and down in futility with each bucking attempt. Her eyes search for me as I watch her fade. I can do nothing for her.“Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you little girl?” her tormentor scowls. “I will put you out of your misery, but not before you feel the full wrath of MY TITS” Daniella shifts her body toward my girl’s head, positioning her watermelons over the lovely face before dropping them down like huge ballon’s over the pretty nose and mouth, engulfing the entire face in a deadly breast smother. Kiva desperately kicks her feet and squirms harder as her oxygen is cut off. Daniella presses down further assuring the smother. Kiva’s screams are barely audible from beneath the giant orbs. I know she is suffering from the asphyxiation. I don’t want her to lose but my erection is so intense, it hurts. Then, from out of nowhere, she manages to free an arm. Daniella tries to pin it down again, but Kiva finds a fistful of hair and slowly pulls the larger woman off balance. Finally, she turns her face to the side and lets out a loud gasp like an underwater swimmer coming to the surface taking her first breath in minutes....................I don’t know how she did it, but my babe is totally in control. Daniella, exhausted, is finally felled by a series of blows. Kiva has her flat on her back and is perched on her in a reverse face sit, pinning the arms with her knees, punching and clawing at the large vulnerable tits. Finally, Daniella tries to speak but cannot only make moans, her mouth pressed into silence by Kiva’s beautiful ass. My sweetie lifts up slightly.“
I give up,” Daniella coughs out. “You’re the better woman. Get off of me.”
“Did you say something, bitch?”, my girlfriend asks.
“I give up. You win.”
“I thought so.”Kiva stays on her woman, pivots 180 degrees, then descends back into a face sit. She slides back, then positions her muff over her victim’s mouth and nose, then begins to rub. Her pelvis rocks back and forth, pleasuring her wet pussy with Daniella’s face. Daniella can only groan as Kiva’s rhythmic movements turn faster and harder, the poor woman’s face becoming increasingly wet as Kiva grinds her love button. Kiva now moans and breathes rapidly as she works herself into a frenzy, Finally, she shudders her entire body, nearly every muscle quaking, as she appears ready to explode. The shuddering becomes more violent until she lets out a scream, her womanly juices squirt out, watering Daniella’s face like it’s a garden. Briefly, she pauses to catch her breath, then the shuddering resumes.“Take me Carl,” she calls out. “Finish me.”
I peel out of my clothes as quickly as I can. I hold Kiva by the hand as she rolls off her defeated rival and on to her back. She shudders some more as I enter into her and we hump on the floor like rabbits. Our moans and screams fill the cheap motel room, as the alpha woman enjoys her just desserts, next to her fallen opponent. Our love making escalates to that point of no return, until, with one last ultimate quiver, she screams and blasts out her love juice as I fire my cum into her. I hold her, feeling her body tremble in my arms until, gradually, our bodies go limp as we lie on the carpeted floor. A few feet away, Daniella’s man tends to his broken woman.“Now your man knows what the scent of a real woman is like,” Kiva sneers.
I am too stunned for words. This is so surreal and so...repulsive. I thumb over a few more pages.
“Carl, I can never repay you,” my angel says to me. “You’ve given me everything a girl could want: a beautiful house, nice cars, a cat....and the most wonderful attentive husband ever. We are going to have such a sweet life together.”
“Sounds like the title of a book I’m going to write,” I tell her. It’s called ‘Life With Kiva’.
And now, I have some fantastic news for you,” she says, her eyes lovingly falling into mine.
“What is it my love?”
“I’m pregnant.”I am beyond feeling angry. “FUCK!” I blurt out. I feel so violated. In a fit of rage, I tear up the pages and toss them in the trash. It doesn’t matter, Claire and Carl have electronic versions.
“What’s he planning to do with this lovely tale?” I ask.
“Probably nothing,” Claire answers. “It’s just his own private thing.”
“If I ever find out this is published, either in print or the internet, I’ll sue his ass,” I threaten.
“Um, Kiva is not a common name, but you’re not the only one dear.”
“Excuse me,” I query. “But why did you show me this?”
“So you can see what kind of effect you have on him,” Claire explains.
“Oh, so you think I encouraged this?” I ask.
The mousy face glares at me with seemingly widening eyes. “Let’s just say I know how mean and cruel women can be,” repeating what she said earlier as she digs into her handbag. “And...I believe you know what this is,” she says as she holds up a .....catpin!
I’m shocked. “You’re a catfighter?”
“Yes,” she answers, “I’ve been fighting for Carl since we were kids. I fight to keep my skills up.”
“Look,” I respond. “Carl needs to socialize normally. Maybe instead of fighting for him, you should start encouraging him to form healthy relationships. Maybe you can help him find friends or even meet a woman who shares his interests. But let me assure you, I do not play mind games with people. I only had minimal interaction with your brother.”
“Okay,” she replies, “I’ll trust your word.” Finally, our discussion concludes to cap off a strange day.
At home, I have dinner with my family, feed the dog, watch TV and drink a glass of wine. I go to bed but have trouble falling asleep, disturbed by the words of Carl’s sickening manuscript. “Stiff nipples,” “womanly juices,” “love button,” - every cliche from an awful erotic novel.
Morning comes and I’m off work. After Clarissa boards the school bus, I pour myself another coffee and sit at the computer. I receive a notification from the catfight website that I have received a challenge. I excitedly open my inbox only to learn my challenger is....Claire.
Who is she kidding?, I thought. She’s four inches shorter than me and twenty pounds lighter. Her fight record is 0-4. I watch her fight videos. Good heavens, her fights weren’t even close. In all of her fights, she was dominated. Freda worked her over and submitted her. Destiny, a young woman barely out of her teenage years who Kelli fought, knocked her out cold. Why is Claire challenging me? Why does she fight at all? Having nothing to gain by fighting this misguided social worker, I decline the challenge and enjoy a peaceful day off.
Another day and I’m back at work. I’m not surprised to see Claire on my appointment schedule.
“Look Claire, what is this all about?” I demand to know.
“When I spoke with you last, I didn’t realize you had a second discussion with Carl,” she started, the big eyes glaring through glasses above the tiny nose and mouth. “Carl said you scolded him and kicked him out of the ICU in front of people.”
Unbelievable. “No,” I countered. “I told him he needed to have official business on the unit or he needed to leave. I have a right to demand accountability on my unit. It’s an ICU. We can’t have employees who don’t belong there loitering,...especially stalkers.”
“You’re calling my brother a stalker?” she forces out of tiny pursed lips.
“Okay, maybe stalker is too strong a term,” I reply. “But your brother needs to learn he just can’t show up anywhere and stare at women he finds attractive. Instead of fighting for him, you need to help him start a life of his own. He needs to start the job in California, meet new people, start over. He’s not learning anything from you fighting for him. Besides, you’re not helping yourself either. You keep getting your ass kicked.”
“I accepted your word when you said you weren’t a mean girl,” she says softly. “Now I see otherwise. Are you going to accept my challenge?”
“Oh Christ, Claire, you’re not getting it. No, absolutely not. I am NOT accepting your challenge. Now please leave,” I say firmly.
“May I propose stakes?” She asks. This should be interesting, I thought.
“I spoke it over with Carl,” she says, her words careful and deliberate. “If you win,....Carl will accept the job in California and he and I will never bother you again....and if you lose,...”
“Go on.”
“And if you lose,...”
“Come on, say it.”
“If you lose...., immediately after the fight,....you will go to...Carl’s apartment,....and.....”
“And sleep with him?” I finish her sentence struggling to hold back laughter.
“Yes,” she clarifies. “You will take his virginity.”
I can’t hold it back any more. My attempt to suppress the chuckling, explodes into a full belly laugh. “Are you kidding? Me and Carl? That’s the dumbest and funniest stakes I’ve ever heard. And exactly how is me boinking Carl supposed to help him?”
“Well,” she attempts to explain, “I thought if he could get past his first conquest, he might come out of his shell more.”
“Conquest?” I retort. “I prefer to think of sex in terms other than conquering some one.”
“What’s your answer?” Claire interrogates.
“My answer? I ask incredulously. Here’s my answer. My answer is no, N-O, nada, never, no way. Got it?” Finally, the mousy looking winless fighter rises as I escort her out of my office.
Another shift and night passes. I find myself back at work in the morning. The nurse manager from the Emergency Department calls. They are short staffed and need help. She asks if I can spare any nurses from the ICU with prior emergency medicine experience. I tell her yes and I volunteer...me.
It’s been awhile since I worked the ED and I’m enjoying getting back into the swing of it. I reconnect with some old colleagues. It’s busy today. There have been two traumas, a myocardial infarction, and a subdural hematoma needing neurosurgery. It’s noon and I head to the break room for a quick lunch. I’m interrupted by Gina, one of the young ED nurses.
“Kiva, there’s a guy outside in the hallway looking for you,” she informs. Already, I’m feeling ill.
“Did you tell him I’m in here?”
“Yes,” she answers.
“Shit,” I take a few more bites. Time to get this over with.
I open the break room door. Unsurprisingly, there he is. The diminutive frame, the pale skin and hair, the glasses, the unstylish clothes.
“Hi Kiva,” he struggles to get out. “Um...Uh...I went to the ICU to work on more equipment and...uh...they told me you were here. I uh...um..just want to say Hi.”
I looked at him for a few seconds. He was already starting to sweat.
“Carl,” I said, “I think we need to talk. We’re not really friends. We’re barely even acquaintances. We’re just two people who work in the same building. We can get along fine, but you must understand there are certain rules men need to follow when around women.” The face was expressionless.
“Do not stare except when making eye contact when speaking. Do not spy, keep track of, or follow a woman around. That is stalking and qualifies as sexual harassment. Respect personal space and limits. Be polite.” Finally a response. He nods.
“Your sister told me you have a job offer in California. Sounds like a great opportunity for you. Are you going to accept?”
“I haven’t decided yet?” For the first time, he completed a sentence without stammering.
“Alright, I hope you decide for the best. For now, we can get along fine but please respect my privacy. I’m a nurse, a wife, and a mom. I’m not someone to be leered at. I hope this makes sense to you.”
“Uh, yeah, it does.”
“OK, well whatever you do, I wish you the best.”
“OK,” he answers. “Thank you” as he walks away.
After the shift, I go home feeling better about the Carl situation. I think I at least put an end to the uncomfortable behavior. On the computer, I’m notified by the catfight site I have an email from Claire.
“Hey bitch,” it reads. “Carl said you broke up with him in the hallway. Now he’s devastated. Not a mean girl, huh. You fucking cxnt.”
Shocked, I try to explain my side of it but to no avail.
“I’ll believe my brother before I believe a skank like you. You whores are all alike. I reissue my challenge. Let’s fight, bitch. The stakes are the same as we previously discussed.”
My blood is boiling. I feel my blood pressure rising. How dare she stand up for her pervert brother. I want to punch the computer screen. Then I think about her pathetic fights and how she got her ass whooped every time. I want to be next to throttle this bitch. With all irrationality out the window, I type:
“Yes, bitch, I accept your challenge. Stakes as previously discussed.”
The next day at work, Claire comes to my office. We agree to fight Saturday evening at 7:00. Tom will be home and we will host the event at our house. Claire emails me a consent form stating I agree to mutually and willfully engage in vaginal intercourse with Carl if I lose. Other sexual acts are optional and listed: oral sex, anal sex, bondage, toys, etc. I check no to all of them.
Tom knows about the fight in our home and is excited about It. Luanne offered to take Clarissa for the evening. We will make space in the den and use mats. I will wear a sports bra and long yoga pants. Claire will wear a one piece tank swimsuit and will be accompanied by Carl. Everything is set except....
Shit! I haven’t told my husband about the stakes yet.
To be continued
End Note:
Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) struck by “the thunderbolt.”
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=W0iXfa2unYY
