The Reader is a Nudist

Layla kissed Brandon and waved good-bye to Lucas.

"Come on, Norma. Let's leave the artists alone to work. Let me know if you like any of those samples, honey. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

Aspen forced herself to say, "Thank you." She wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. She couldn't remember ever feeling so much like an object, like a piece of tissue, to be used and tossed aside. Perhaps if she had just remained a reader, and not allowed Brandon to persuade her to pose, then she might have felt more appreciated, and more worthwhile. She knew what she craved now. She wanted a hit. She wanted to forget herself and everyone around her in this place. It was the wrong thing to do, her rational mind told her, but her emotions were compelling her in another direction. She was lucky that she didn't know any dealers she could lean on. Up here on a mountain, it may take a while to make a connection.

Brandon and Lucas finished up before five o'clock. The caterers would be arriving soon for the Friday night musicians. As they cleaned up their tools and supplies, Aspen picked up the robe she had worn. She wrapped it tightly round her and left without speaking to either man.

Aspen noticed a slight weight in the pocket of her silk robe. It wasn't there when she wore it previously. Someone had put it there. She dug it out. A small envelope of white powder. She recognized the substance. It looked like heroin. It probably wasn't. It was probably a substance laced with fentanyl, a synthetic drug mass produced in China, smuggled through Mexico, and not unknown to doctors, surgeons, and anesthesiologists. Under careful supervision, it can be way to relieve the horrific pain of surgery. But the stuff that is purchased on the street is so dangerous, it has caused the deaths of tens of thousands of young users.

Aspen knew it didn't come from Brandon or Lucas. They had all week with her to make the drug available to her. She didn't think that Layla or Ashley, who both seemed to love life in their own ways, would have tried to hurt her. That left only one other visitor — Norma. She was married to a medical person, and theoretically, if not actually, had access to opioids. She knew in her gut that Norma had supplied the drug, and would be willing to supply more.

The question now was: What would she do with it?

Aspen went to her suite without supper. She had no desire to eat. She could barely summon the strength to climb the stairs. Once in her room, she showered for a long time, but still felt impure. In the wall-sized mirror over the sink and vanity, she examined her body, paying particular attention to the insult that had been visited upon her vagina. It swelled a little, even now, hours after Layla had roughly shaved every bit of her pubic hair off. Aspen applied a little lotion to the sensitive area. It reminded her of the way Brandon's hands had once brought her such pleasure by sliding over her torso. That was over now. She knew it, and felt deeply sad.

She found the red Razorback sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. It still covered her ass. The fierce running beast on the front was so outrageous that it cheered her just a little to be wearing it. She took the envelope and went outside onto the balcony. No lights were lit, and she felt she was lurking in the shadows.

By eight-thirty, some of the good old musicians had begun to arrive. It took a while for the first of them to spot her on the darkened balcony. When they did, they pointed her out to the arriving members. Most were gentlemen and waved a hello to her. But when she didn't acknowledge them or wave back, they became surly.

"Hey, show us your tits!"

"What about your ass? You have a ni-i-i-ce ass!"

"You can't be saving it for Brandon to see, now, can ya?"

"It's too hot to be all dressed up wearing a sweatshirt."

"It's too hot to be wearing anything, girl!"

Once the laughter began, it punctuated every taunt hurled her way. The crowd outside grew larger and more boisterous. A few men were boosted along the supporting posts to try to assault the balcony like they were storming a castle. Aspen had no choice but to take her envelope and leave. But before leaving the balcony completely, she removed her sweatshirt. The crowd erupted in cheers and invitations for her to join them immediately. She tossed it over the railing, and a brawl erupted over possession of the sweatshirt. It was soon torn to pieces, and men considered themselves lucky if they had a scrap of material bigger than four square inches.

Aspen hadn't finished closing the door to her suit before she regretted losing that shirt.

Thudding footsteps on the balcony let her know that her siege had not abated. Faces and bodies pressed against the windowed panes of the doors leading from the balcony to her bedroom. She shuttered the blinds, but not before several cameras flashed their bright explosions, signaling that more images of Aspen's naked body had been captured for exploitation on the internet.

Aspen huddled in her room, knees to her chest, rocking nervously, afraid that the mob would break through the doors to her room. She clutched the envelope in her hand with increasing intensity. It must have been nearly ten o'clock before the last of the brutes finally left the balcony. Even then, Aspen wasn't sure that a few might not have decided to camp on her balcony overnight. The music and laughter seemed louder and more insistent, invasive.

She needed to get away. She looked at the envelope. That was one way, and so easy to accomplish. But she owed a sense of gratitude to her host, and would not want to him to have to remove her body from the suite. She decided she would leave the cabin as soon as she could.

It took until one o'clock before they took a break. She took her other Arkansas shirt, the white t-shirt, pulled it over her head, and sneaked down the stairs. She was able to elude the mostly drunk party guests and exited the cabin by way of a rear door. At the rear of the property were the stairs leading down to the lake. She crept closer and saw several boats that had been used to come to Brandon's music night. Among the several craft was one small fishing boat with an electric motor. The key was still there. She edged in, turned the key, and let the quiet engine power the craft through the lapping waves.

The dark sky was pierced with starlight, reflecting off the water. In the center of the lake, Aspen stopped the boat. It rocked slowly on the water until she stood up. She could cause the craft to roll side to side. It would take only a little more effort and it would capsize. An accident. She looked at the envelope and realized she didn't need it any longer to end her life. She flung it a far as she could, and watched the envelope with its sweet, numbing forgetting sink under the surface of the lake. She looked at the distant shore. It would be nearly impossible to swim to safety if she left the boat now. If she made it, then she had a purpose in her life. If not, well, who would even care?

She stripped off the white t-shirt, and folded it carefully on a seat of the boat. With her arms outstretched, she let her head roll back. She felt as though she were an offering. The stars surrounded her, from those in the sky, to their reflections on the water, to the pinpoints that bounced off her own body. She herself was starlight, and soon might be part of the infinite.

In the distance she heard the purr of a gasoline engine, increasing in intensity. Even at this remove, she recognized the sound of Lucas's boat. She dove into the lake, and swam away from the fishing boat.

The lake water was warm after a week of direct sunlight. It relaxed her muscles and made swimming to the shore unlikely. Within a few minutes she was flailing in the water. Trying to supply air to her lungs was frustrated by gulps of water. She didn't panic, though. It felt comforting to be in the cradle of the water.

"Aspen! Aspen, where are you?"

Lucas had a light on his boat, and it swept the water around the abandoned fishing boat. He cut the engine, and listened for Aspen's reply. There was the splash of the waves against the side of his boat and against the fishing boat. Then there was a different kind of splashing. He shined his light in that direction. Aspen's thin arms were thrashing the water ineffectively.

Lucas threw a life preserver toward Aspen.

"Take it, Aspen. Hold on!"

The life preserver floated unused near her hands. Aspen spat and choked her reply.

"Leave me alone."

Lucas stood suddenly, like he had been slapped. Aspen kept flailing, but hadn't moved any closer to shore.

"Aspen, I'll help you. Please, hold on. Let me help you."

"No."

"I won't let you die. I'm coming in."

"You don't have a say in this. Stay away."

Lucas stripped naked to dive into the lake. He tossed another life preserver and two life jackets into the lake before he dove. With just three powerful strokes he came even with Aspen.

"Come here, Aspen. Let me help you."

She said nothing, but kept paddling. She knew that she was not making any headway. So she stopped, and rolled onto her back, floating.

The star-pierced sky surrounded her. She felt as though she were floating not in water, but rising up into the sky. How high might she rise? Would she ever return to the dirt and noise of the planet she called home? She thought not. She was a part of the universe now.

Lucas rolled on his back and tried to float as quietly as Aspen was floating. He was too nervous, though. He started to flutter kick his feet, and they propelled him in a circle around Aspen.

They floated soundlessly for almost an hour. She listened to the night sounds of the lake. She heard small splashes where animals and reptiles returned to the lake. Bats like damaged umbrellas flapped awkwardly past her. Owls on powerful wings cruised on their nightly patrol to feast on smaller animals. The trees sang as the breezes combed their branches. Grasses whistled with the whiplash motion of small creatures evading predators. It all formed a part of nature's symphony that spoke to Aspen, and reminded her of the interconnectedness of the universe and her place in it.

Aspen's spirit returned to the lake and saw that Lucas was still floating in circles around her. It made her giggle.

"Throw me a life preserver, please."

Lucas started at the sudden use of language, so foreign in the symphony of night sounds that blanketed the lake. He grabbed one of the rings and pushed it closer to Aspen. She slipped inside, and put both arms on the outside. Aspen reached his boat before he did, and flipped into the stern. She lay on the rough bottom of the boat, as though she were still floating. She didn't try to hide the fact she was naked.

Lucas tossed the other ring into the boat and both life jackets. Then he climbed in himself, and sat in the captain's chair. He dug out two blankets and put them on the chair next to his own.

"You didn't save me," she said.

"I know."

"I'm ready to go back now. But I'm not going to stay."

"Please stay. You are a wonderful model."

Aspen snorted. "The trouble is, you are a terrible painter. I'm sorry, but I can't stay still long enough for you to learn to paint correctly."

Lucas chuckled. "I hate to admit it, but you may be right. But I still want you to stay."

Aspen sat up, saw the blankets, and took one. She wrapped it around herself. The motorboat engine rumbled to life. Lucas attached the smaller fishing boat, and started toward Brandon's pier.

"I have to leave," she said.

"Please don't. I thought we might be developing something between us."

Aspen's thoughts were on Lucas's father. It was Brandon who had put his hands on her. It was Brandon who brought her nondescript features to life with his sensitive fingertips. It was his fingertip that had penetrated her anus, and her vagina. She shuddered to think of it, but not exactly with disgust. She had perversely enjoyed it.

When she looked at Lucas, she saw what Brandon had looked like as a young man. She knew what Norma had seen in him. She could only wonder what temptations had driven Norma into the arms of his treating physician. She didn't want to know what other weaknesses he might have. She would always think of Brandon and his comforting, exploring, and invasive hands whenever she might be in the arms of his son, Lucas.

"No, Lucas. I can't stay."

Lucas nodded, but she could see that he was still confused.

"I almost succumbed to three temptations tonight. I could have used drugs to lose myself. I could have committed suicide, and lost everything, and it didn't matter. Finally, I was tempted by you. I know you wanted to save me, and you could have. But I need to save myself if I'm going to survive in this world. Do you understand what I mean?"

He nodded as they reached the pier. It was nearly dawn, and the musicians and mob had all departed. He helped Aspen out of the boat, still wrapped in her blanket. He pulled on the other blanket and they entered the cabin looking like refugees.

"I need to get back to rehab. At least for a while. When I'm stronger, perhaps I'll be back. But I will have to be much stronger than I am now."

"Go get some clothes. Will you stay for breakfast?"

"No. I'll leave when I have the clothes I need. Thank you."

Even before Brandon was awake, Aspen had donned her yellow sundress and collected a small bag with some other clothes. She walked with Lucas to the front door, and gave him a full kiss before she left.

"If you need anything, Aspen, please let me know."

"Well, now that you mention it, I'd love to have a red Razorback sweatshirt to remind me of you and this mountain."