Christian and Anastasia Fanfiction
Book II - Chapter XXII
LONG WAY HOME
“Oh, dear God! What do we do? Christian?”
“Shut up and let me focus!” I say firmly to Ros.
“I’m scared!”
“Ros!” I warn her, and the only response I get from her is a light whimpering noise. Her eyes are wide and unfocused; she’s trembling as if she just walked into the Arctic Circle in her underwear. Her lips are moving and no sound is coming out. She is praying.
It’s hard to control the Charlie Tango when the tail is nearly out of commission. The fenestron system in the EC135’s tail is supposed to be a better stabilizer compared to any other helicopter of its class. They use this helicopter for extreme rescue situations all over Europe for God’s sake! This helicopter can hold up to seven passengers and 6400 pounds! Other than Ros and me, it doesn’t have a heavy payload, so that’s a positive in our current predicament.
“Christian! I don’t want to die! I wanna go home to Gwen! Please!” she shrieks losing control. Smoke is coming from the air conditioning system which I promptly turn off to prevent smoke inhalation.
I want to go home to Anastasia, too! I quickly pat my jacket where I have her small gift box. That little box in my pocket is the only lifeline I have, close to my heart, it’s only connection I have to Anastasia. The thought of not holding her, kiss her, love her never again is agonizing, excruciating, soul ripping torturous. What’s worse, some fucker is going to slide in my place and hold and comfort her when I’m gone! Whispering soothing words into her ear, holding her hands to comfort her, hugging her in his embrace. This is the biggest torture I have ever had to endure!
“NO FUCKING WAY!” I yell, and make Ros jump in her seat. I’m determined more than ever to land this bird. I look at the altimeter amongst the blinking lights and buzzing alarms. It is still very accurate, thank God! I focus all my attention on my instrument panel to assess what is out of commission and what I can do with the remaining tools I have at hand, and try recall all my emergency training.
The two radar altimeter antennas are located underneath the tailbone. It’s used for precision approaches. The fire in the tail is still going, I don’t know what part of tail the fire is on, but I’m assuming it’s on the rotor. One saving grace could be that the blades in the tail are installed irregularly which might help and buy me a few minutes of time. I need to divert my attention. I don’t want to panic! Panicking would be deadly for both of us and I’m the only one who can fly this! How to focus... How to focus.... Focus!
“Ros!”
Her answer comes in an incoherent whimper.
“Ros! Ask me a question!”
“What?”
“Focus! Ask me a damned question!”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“No, not yet! I need to focus, and so do you! Ask me... ask me...” I rack my brain, and a light bulb goes on, “Ask me why the tail blades are irregularly placed in the rotor!”
“What?”
“Do you wanna go back to Gwen?”
“Y...yy...yes...”
“Then fucking DO IT!” I say making her jump in her place. She looks at me like I lost my marbles. I need to focus! She needs to focus! My brain works better when I’m multitasking! I need to get rid of my panic.
“Mr. Grey, why...” she stops and whimpers, and sniffles. “Why are the blades in the... uhm...”
“The rotor!”
“...in the rotor placed irregularly?”
“Good question Ros!” I say, and she gives a tearful ‘
what the hell’ smile.
“These German engineers are so fucking smart!” I say as I pull the joystick trying to gain elevation. My voice strained I add, “You see they thought that if you place the blades equally it creates a harmonic vibration or harmonic pitch which is very penetrating,” I say as I try to keep up speed even though the fucking engines have failed, and the Charlie Tango is shaking like it has the flu!
“What they’ve done is after discovering if you break up the distance between the blades, it creates a node - it silences the resonance. That simple noise cancellation trick might be the thing that could save our lives today!” I say in a high pitched rattling voice as the shaking of the helicopter affect my speech.
Hope springs in her eyes.
(→Uprising by Muse←)
“Really, how?” she says sniffling.
“Because, even if I lose any of the blades, remaining blades should still aid me in stabilizing the helicopter until landing. Since the blades are enclosed in the shroud in the tail, if I were to impact and that would eliminate added possibility of getting hurt because of the well forwarded stabilizers and the blades up there,” I say quickly pointing to the ceiling, “are not as long as other helicopters' blades which could eliminate the added interference with the terrain. You know hitting trees and other obstacles as such.” Of course this is hopeful thinking granted that the tail doesn’t break off. I can hear Ros’s harsh breathing over the cans.
I remain silent and try to focus and focus fast.
Okay! I can do this! I can do this! I want to get back to my love! I want to see Anastasia again!
(→Break the Spell by Daughtry←)
The Altimeter shows 174 feet and we are descending quickly and spinning at a slow rate! Fuck! Fuck! I have to use the main fin offset for lateral lift which should create a pull towards the right of the helicopter. I have a fucking tail wind which is not helping, and if I can stabilize the spinning and use that lift I may just have minimal impact!
“Mr. Grey? Christian!” says Ros panicking.
“Ros,” I say swallowing. “Listen, I have to try to create forward flight to use the main fin in order to streamline the aircraft.”
“Oh, ok...” she says as she violently wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“It’s a fairly short aircraft, as helicopters go, where they put a large vertical fin in the back of the tail to create a substantial amount of sideward lift and stabilize the aircraft in flight,” I say to her, and I might as well speak to her in Swedish, because she doesn’t of course understand a word I’m saying, but it keeps her mind occupied, and my mind from veering off to focusing solely on the imminent impact.
“They thought that if they did have a complete catastrophic failure of the fenestron,” she makes an agonizing sound with the word ‘catastrophic,’ “and if I can keep my speed up around 70 knots plus my aircraft should theoretically continue to fly normally without having any losses of control.”
“Really? What’s fenestron?” she asks trying to remain hopeful, and occupy her mind.
“It’s the tail rotor system.”
“But we were hovering. Can you get to 70 knots keep the speed, because you said...” she says teary eyes, “...you said that both of your fucking engines failed!”
I hold onto the joystick as if our lives depend on it; well it does... I’m supposed to have two auto pilots. If one fails, number two automatically kicks in. Beautiful, but no one fucking thought of the failure of both engines at hovering and slow speeds. So, I have to use my glider skills to get a brick down from 161 feet safely! Unless I can create a forward thrust.
“The fillets on both sides of the aircraft are supposed to aid me stabilize Charlie Tango and help it to fly straight at normal cruise speed which is around 120 to 125 knots.”
“Fucking great, Mr. Grey! But right now your bird seems to have lost its wings!”
I look at the XM Weather Alive to check the wind behind me. I press the button for digital radar; it’ll allow me to see the digital map, so if I can just turn in the right direction, I can use the tail wind for our benefit. My EGPWS stays on all the time which is an the enhanced ground proximity warning system designed to alert pilots if their aircraft is in immediate danger of flying into the ground or an obstacle. It’s a terrain awareness system. Right now I’m looking for a place with minimal impact to land, and I don’t get to choose.
(terrain)
“Yes and no Ros! Each engine drives the transmission and tail rotor. In other helicopters, there is a different setup to drive the tail rotor. The beauty of this helicopter is that even I lose both the engines, the transmission is going to drive the tail rotor through the airflow going through the main rotor!” I say as my teeth are rattling with the shaking of Charlie Tango.
“Fucking hallelujah! Because we get to test all these today! We have lost both engines, and we have a fire going in the tail! Your bird is shaking and rattling like a Los Angeles earthquake! If you can land us despite the problems, I’m personally thanking those fucking engineers who planned ahead!”
I like this better. I can deal with angry. I can’t deal with nervous, jittery, losing control, shrieking when Charlie Tango is about to go down! I have to maintain control of the aircraft and oddly Ros’ anger drives me to focus.
“Well Ros, both engines drives the transmission, the transmission drives the main rotor plus the tail rotor, and one engine will do both jobs, even without both engines the transmission will keep running. In some helicopters, if the engine quits the tail rotor stops spinning. Not in this bird! There is a reason why I paid $4.6 million Dollars for it!” So it becomes crucial for me to land this helicopter soon without crashing to the fucking ground! I have to get it going forward and let the body of the helicopter do the job.
“I really hope they tested those theories boss! If we don’t make it down safely, you overpaid for your fucking chopper! I wanna get back to Gwen! I’m not saying we’re not gonna make it, but just to let you know, you have been the best fucking boss I ever had. You’re a fucking tight ass, but you’re decent. You’re alright boss!” she says sniffing in her raspy voice.
“You really have to quit smoking, Ros!”
“Really? You’re really fucking asking me to quit smoking right now? Because I aim to smoke one whole pack once you land, and I don’t have a single cigarette on me! Don’t you have something nice to say to me since we are going to die?” she asks teary eyes.
“We aren’t going to die!”
“How do you fucking know that?”
“Because, I have a girlfriend I proposed to! I don’t want some other fucker moving in on her, comforting her, holding her hand, and hugging her because I fucking died today! I want to hear her response! I want to hear her say ‘yes’ to me! I don’t want Jose or Ethan end up fucking my girlfriend because I’m not here anymore! I love her! She’s my woman!”
“Wow! You really aren’t gay, boss!”
“Thank fuck! Your gaydar is back in business...” I say as she gives me a teary smile.
She mutters some other shit, but I tune out Ros’ raspy voice in my head. I want to get back to Anastasia! I see her beautiful face, the intensity of her deep blue eyes looking at me in the eyes of my mind and feel her arms holding me. I want to get back to her arms, to her embrace, to her kiss. I don’t want to die here today. I want hear her acceptance of my marriage proposal. I need to... I have to get back to her.
I push the speed up.
“Ros, hold on tight! We are going to go down at about 70 knots of speed. I’m going to try to control the speed at the last few second, but it’s crucial for me to keep speed up since the engines aren’t working until we get very close to the ground, then I’ll cut it!”
Ros just looks bewildered.
“Ros!” I yell firmly, and she jumps in her seat like someone jolting back into their body.
“Yes?” she answers whimpering.
“Look at me! We aren’t going to die! We’re both going home!” I say as I keep the speed up, and look at the terrain with the aid of EGPWS. I have to get as flat to a ground as possible. I see it ahead and turn the helicopter trying to stabilize it using the vertical fin and letting the wind help me push the helicopter in the direction I want to go.
“49 feet, Ros! We’re going to descend quickly.”
I use the horizontal stabilizer and the vertical fin, and let the wind push us with the remaining drive from the transmission. I try to avoid the trees, and locate a place to land with minimal impact. I see it close to the marshes, a patch of land clear of debris, or trees and large rocks. I see the TOT limit reached is flashing on my FLI gauge, the First Limit Indicator, because of the fire in my tail rotor. And the fucking torque is also at the limit flashing on the screen, for fuck’s sake! Of course it’s at the limit, I have no engine power! I’m only running on transmission driving the main and the tail rotor which by the way is on fucking fire like my frigging soul!
“18 feet!” I yell to give heads up to Ros. She braces the sides of her seat.
I cut the speed down and let the rotor take its remaining power to get us down and use the wind to aid the stabilizer to get us in landing in one piece.
“6 feet to impact!”
“Oh please, God!” screams Ros.
“I love you with all my life Ana! I’ll always love you!” I whisper. I can feel the spinning of the main rotor completely stop and we hit the ground like 6.0 earthquake skidding on the grass and Charlie Tango leans on its side to the right, and I hear the blades hitting something and sound of breakage, but the impact of the blade aids the helicopter to lean forward and creates an equal and an opposite force enough to push the helicopter right itself as it finally comes to a stop after the helicopter leans forward one final time and the tail’s weight pulls the nose back up. We rock in our seats jolting back and forth violently several times during the impact. My breath is knocked out of me. I can’t breathe for a minute as if my lungs flattened out like pancakes! I don’t know if I have bruised or broken ribs; my chest is hurting as if an army of Claude Bastilles beat the shit out of me! My neck is bruised because the harness cut into it. A small rise in the ground halting our movement and the tail of the helicopter’s fin is touching the ground as the nose of it is lifted up in the air. I try to inhale shallow breaths. It hurts to breathe.
“Ros! Are you okay?” I ask once I manage to get a lungful of air. She has a bloody nose, cuts on her arms, shaken, and out of breath, but otherwise alive. Thank God! She looks at me with horrified eyes; her face is matching the color of her hair. Blood is running from her nose and dripping onto her shirt. She wipes it with the back of her hand unceremoniously smudging it all over her face.
“Oh my God, Christian! I thought we were going to die! I thought...” she says, choking on her words starts sobbing.
I turn off all the electronics to prevent fire spreading the entire helicopter.
“Ros, unbuckle right away. We have to get out!”
I unbuckle the harness quickly, and jump out of Charlie Tango and go to the back of the helicopter and open the clamshell doors on the back of the aircraft. I grab the built in fire extinguisher and quickly put out the fire on the tail rotor. My heart is in my throat! My hands are shaking. The last 8 minutes have been the longest in my entire life. For the last few seconds, I thought I’d never see Anastasia again. I thought I was lost to the world, and not being in the same universe with her was the most excruciating pain I have ever felt...
Ros stumbles out of Charlie Tango and lands in the dirt on the ground. Pencil skirt, and four inches studded Jimmy Choo high heels aren’t meant for outdoors. She walks towards me awkwardly, her heels sinking into the ground. She looks at the smoke from the tail with bewildered eyes, and turns her eyes to the rest of Charlie Tango. Her gaze assessing the broken blade, the small crater Charlie Tango created, its tail touching the ground, and small column of smoke after the fire on the tail has been put out.
“Mr. Grey! You really are one fucking talented pilot!” she says and with that her arms go around me in a hug as I’m standing with the now emptied fire extinguisher in my right hand, standing awkwardly.
I pat her back with one hand, and then rubbing my neck with one hand in contemplation I say, “well, I had dinner plans, if we can get going, I’m sure I can find a way to make it on time.” She lets go of me and looks at me shaking her head.
“I really was very scared. I’ve never been this scared in my entire life, and you with your tight ass ways, however strange, you kept me focused Mr. Grey. Did you know what the most awkward thought I had was as we were getting close to impact?”
“Do tell...”
“Well, I recently read some trivial information about people’s biggest fears. You know how they survey so many people and come up with a number, one of those. Did you know what people’s biggest fear was?”
“Dying?” I ask shuddering.
“No! That’s what I would have thought. It was public speaking! Dying was only the second biggest. I always hated public speaking too. But at the last minute, I decided it was a tie for me.”
I look at Ros with an impassive face. “Well Ros, though standing up before a crowd to make a speech is not my favorite thing to do; I’d rather give your eulogy than be in the box any day.”
Ros looks at me with narrowed eyes trying to give me a scornful face, but then her face breaks into a cathartic laughter and, she says, “Ditto, boss!” making me laugh, too.
“I have a first aid kit here, you might want to clean up the blood off your face,” I say slightly indicating her face with my head. She nods, and I hand her the package, and she cleans up her wounds with the alcohol wipes.
“We need to call for help Mr. Grey,” says Ros after patching herself up.
“We can’t use the radio. The impact knocked most everything out, and a lot of the connections are broken. I can risk another fire turning the power back on; we’re out of fire extinguisher. So, the radio is not an option.”
“I have my cell phone but, we can’t even call 911, there is no cell reception,” she says, making me grimace. No... Fucking... Way! We can’t wait here till someone figures out that we’re lost. We are way out of the road in the back country. By the time they get to figure out we’re lost, and look for us, it could even take a couple of days for them to find us! And I need to get back to Seattle, or fucker Jose will be all over my girlfriend like a static pair of pants!
“Fuck it! I don’t have reception, either!” I say displeased.
“Do we wait? Taylor knows we’re supposed to be on our way back.”
“We can’t wait Ros! Because, they may take a long time to find us, and it will get dark. I’m sure you don’t want to spend the night in the wilderness. Besides, we have no food, and only a liter of water between the two of us. It’ll take time for them to find us. We don’t know what the weather will be like, and if it rains, I don’t want us to risk being in the elements, seeing how Charlie Tango is seated in nearly 45 degree angle.”
“Mr. Grey! You’re Christian Grey! Do you think they’ll take all day and all night to find you? They can dispatch a helicopter to look for us...”
“That’s assuming that they know we are lost. They won’t know that till later in the day, and it will be dark. There is very little chance for anyone finding us in the dark. And we’ll be all over the news tomorrow. I don’t want that kind of publicity. How much charge do you have on your cell phone?”
“It’s about 75%.”
“Mine is nearly 90. We’ll use yours first to guide us to the road with your GPS, and we’ll try to persuade a driver to take us back to Seattle. How much money do you have?”
She digs in her purse, and counts everything. “I have about two hundred and seventy eight Dollars with me.”
I check my wallet and see that I have three hundred and twenty five Dollars. Okay, between the two of us, we have $603 Dollars. That should bribe someone to get us back to Seattle once we find the road.
“Take only your purse and cell phone, we’re walking. If we stay, our phone batteries will drain, and we will have no navigation. Right now at least we can use the GPS in the phone until the batteries run out. Then we may reach a road,” I say.
“Do you have any food Mr. Grey?”
“No,” I say to her my mouth a flat line. What do I look like, 7-Eleven? I’m not open all night! I don’t carry a stash of snacks with me.
She digs in her purse and says, “I have a chocolate bar. Guess we’ll have to share that until we find something.”
“Fine. Let me see your cell phone,” I say, and she hands it to me.
I bring out her GPS, and locate our position on the map.
“The closest major road would be Sprit Lake Memorial Highway, so that’s our destination. We’ll find a pathway, and stick to northbound direction to reach Sprit Lake Memorial Highway,” I say. She looks down to her nearly ruined heels, sighs.
“Ok, boss. Lead the way,” she replies.
*****
I would be the first man to admit that I love high heels on a woman; my woman in particular. I think it’s one of the sexiest, most feminine items a woman could keep as a part of her wardrobe. Same for the pencil skirts. There’s something very feminine about them, the way it hugs a woman’s curves, and shapes her body. But, I would rather see Ros in flip flops and a potato sack right now, than those high heels and the pencil skirt. I look at them in distaste. They are slowing us down big time, and I want to get home to Anastasia. Time is ticking, and we’ve been walking for over three hours! The water is gone, Ros is complaining about how her shoes hurt her, and I’m frustrated with the snail speed we’re walking! Her pencil skirt is tight, and I now find them annoying and inconvenient.
“Honestly Ros! I’m ready to take those shoes and dump them into nearest water source! They’re slowing us down. I’m willing to take my shoes off, and let you wear mine. Let’s just walk faster! Since we’re on paved road, I’ll walk in my socks until they rip apart.”
“Mr. Grey! They are $2500 Dollar Jimmy Choos!” What is the deal with women and their shoes, even in dire straits?
“The way they’re slowing us down, I wouldn’t take them for free from Choo himself!”
“I’m surprised no cars are passing through here. Doesn’t anyone live this way?”
“I don’t know. It’s off the beaten path, but we’ll soon get to the highway, though,” I say looking at her shoes and her swollen feet, “it might take a while still. My offer stands about the shoes.”
“Fine! I’ll take you on your offer, but, you can’t toss my babies! I’ll have them all cleaned up, and I hate seeing them all messed up in the dirt and grime, and dust.”
We finally stop; I take my shoes off, and Ros takes her heels off, and wipes off some of the dirt, crooning softly, “my babies, mommy will get you all cleaned up!”
“Fuck Ros! I don’t wanna hear you talking to your shoes like they’re puppies! It’s taking away from your ball crushing persona.”
“Mr. Grey, do you how many balls these babies can crush?” she says rubbing her hands softly over the suede of her shoes.
“Besides, that’s part of my disguise. If I was just riding on my broom all the time, I’d scare off everyone. Even Miss Frosty wears the best heels. Don’t tell me your little miss doesn’t put a pair of heels on!” she says grinning.
I give her my impassive face with glacial eyes as a response. She holds her hands up in a giving up gesture. I hand my shoes to her, and her feet swim in them.
“Geez, Mr. Grey! What size shoes do you wear?”
“13,” I respond flatly. She grins, shakes her head, but says nothing.
She takes her heels in her hands one in each, her purse hanging on her shoulder. I hold her cell phone guiding us to the highway. I take my jacket off as I’m getting hot and sweaty. Her cell phone is in the red, battery is running out. I quickly memorize the road and the direction we ought to take before her battery runs out. Mine isn’t any better. Still no signal. This is the worst day of my life! Taylor was supposed to go visit his daughter today after dropping me off. His ex told him that his daughter had appendicitis. Bad things come in threes they say. Charlie Tango’s crash, Taylor’s daughter, and I wonder what the third one would be. Jose!
I have a renewed sense of determination. We’re both, sweaty, dusty, dirty, and muddy. The sun is getting down. It’ll be sunset soon. We have to make it to the highway. I just want to make it home to Anastasia, and lose myself in her. I have to see her. I want to feel alive, and there is nothing that makes me feel alive like Anastasia. I want to go home, spread her out and love her till she begs for my cock, push both of us to our limits, and have her hold me till I feel my soul in me!
“Mr. Grey, the highway!” yells Ros brining me out of my daydreams.
“Now what?”
“Now we hail a passing car willing to take us home.”
“Do I have any battery power left on my cell?” she asks.
“No, your cell died over half an hour ago. Mine is blinking red, and no fucking signal. It won’t last a few minutes,” I say bitterly.
“What time is it?”
“6:09. We have better find a vehicle to take us to Seattle. No one would want to take us in the dark. You don’t know what lurks at night, so, people would be weary of strangers on the road.”
“Let’s walk on the side of the road.”
“What direction Mr. Grey?”
“I-5 is that way,” I say pointing the road. So, that’s the direction we want to be in. Someone going in the I-5 direction might be willing to take us. We have $600 bucks. It could tempt someone for a two hour detour.”
We start walking on the side of the highway, and there aren’t many cars passing in our direction, and the two which just passed us without stopping were speeding as if they were being chased by the hellhounds. We walked about a hundred yards down the road, and heard the break squeaks and steam being let out of a big rig. An eighteen wheeler pulled next to us, and the window lowered, a middle aged man with a week’s beard in a John Deere cap stuck his head out the window.
“Howdy strangers. Need a lift someplace?”
Ros and I stop in our tracks. Thank God!
“Yes. We’ve had an accident several miles back, and we’re trying to get back to Seattle. We would be in your debt forever if you could give us a ride. We could pay you for your trouble of course,” I say.
“No trouble at all man. It looks like you walked a long way. And you ain’t got no shoes. Gave ‘em to your little lady, did you? Hop in!”
We open the truck’s cab and I help Ros up into the truck. Handing her the high heels, and her purse, then I climb in.
“Thank you my man! I’m Christian, and this is Ros.”
“Name is Len. Len Mattson of South Dakota. You guys look parched. Are you thirsty?”
“Yes!” Ros jumps in. “Do you have any snacks or something. We haven’t had anything to eat all day since breakfast. We can pay you for the food.”
“No need for that little lady. Let me pull aside at a pullout to be safe, and we’ll eat dinner. I have some sandwich meat and some trimmings. We can make turkey or roast beef sandwich. I’ll share it with you. Gotta watch my girlish figure, you know,” he says joking and patting his large belly which looks like he should have given birth to a ten pound baby last month.
At a pullout on the side of the road, Len the trucker stops.
“I had installed an additional storage box below. I have a cooler there. What’s your pleasure, I have water and Pepsi? I’ll make the sandwiches, you take what you like.”
“I’ll take water, and a Pepsi if you have an extra, I sure need the caffeine,” says Ros.
“I’ll just take water, Len,” I say.
Len goes down and he walks surprisingly agile from behind despite his sizeable gut. Ten minutes later he’s back with sandwiches, and drinks for us.
“I don’t pre-make the sandwiches. The bread gets soggy. I just make ‘em before I eat ‘em,” he says.
I look at Ros, and she nods.
“Len, since, you’ll be taking us to Seattle, and you’re sharing your lunch with us, please allow us to pay you.”
“Son, put away your money. It ain’t no good here. Besides, my little lady, Evelyn is her name, would have my hide for not showing kindness to strangers. We don’t do that in Mitchell.”
“Trust me, I can afford it,” I say.
“Well, good for you son. I can afford this kindness. Humanity ain’t dead, not in Mitchell, South Dakota,” he says grinning, and takes a swig of his Pepsi.
“Thank you,” I say completely awed at the kindness of this stranger.
“Len, do you happen to have a cell phone?”
“No, young man,” he says chuckling. “You’re going to find it strange, but, I never got one of those. I’m trying to trim the fat from all expenses for my boy,” he says with a gleam in his eyes with the mention of his son.
“Oh, too bad. Our cell phone batteries are dead, and my girlfriend would be worried about me. I haven’t called her.”
“You two ain’t together?” he asks curiously.
“No!” we both say in unison.
“She works for me,” I say, and Ros adds, “I have a girlfriend, too.”
Len nearly chokes on his sandwich.
“You’re what Reverend Walsh said you are, like Ruth and Naomi!”
“I’ve never been accused of anything in that way, but, who are Ruth and Naomi?”
“To tell you the truth, I wasn’t paying much attention when he was talking about it. I was tallying up the bills in my head, but don’t tell that to Evelyn, she’s a Godly woman, she is.”
“I promise, I won’t say a word,” says Ros.
“I ain’t judging you, understand. I’m a sinner myself, we all are. I just don’t understand those feelings you speak of. But, ma’am, men have so much more to offer. You know what I mean?” he says with genuine curiosity.
“Well, I've learned that in the third grade when Jimmy Simpson was running for the class president. His motto was 'vote for me and I'll show you my pee pee'. I voted for him out of curiosity. But, I’m not interested in what they have to offer. Never have.”
“You don’t say! Curious, just curious. Let me ask you this ma’am. This here Christian is good looking young man. You see nothing in him? Not even a tiny spark?” he asks leaning in; he looks like he's trying to solve a difficult math problem.
“Not a thing. No offense Christian,” she says turning to me. “Though I know plenty of women drool over him. And besides he has a girlfriend he loves,” she says taking a large bite of her turkey sandwich. “Are Ruth and Naomi local lesbians?” she asks curiously. Len chuckles at her question.
“No ma’am, they’re in the Bible.”
“Bible has lesbians in them?”
“I ain’t saying it does, or it doesn’t. I’m not a very educated man. I’m only repeating what the reverend said. It could be much ado about nothin’. You see, and I have to admit I wasn’t listening all that well, he can get boring, you know. Well he said that Ruth was the daughter in law of Naomi. She had another daughter in law, Orpah, that’s where Oprah gets her name from, you know the lady my wife watches a lot on Tee Vee,” he says emphasizing.
“Anyway...” he says and I interrupt.
“Len, is it possible to drive, and tell the story? I really have to get going.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah!” he says and turns the truck on, pulling into the highway.
“Here’s the thing,” he says as if I never interrupted. “Something happens and the husbands die, Ruth’s and Orpah’s, I mean. Ruth remains with her mother in law, and the reverend said Ruth clung to Naomi.”
“You mean she stayed with her?”
“Yeah, but the way Reverend said it was some Hebrew word, apparently used the same way as Adam clung to Eve in Genesis.”
“What word was that?”
“Little lady, I barely speak my own language good enough, now you’re asking me a word in Hebrew. But as it happens, I remember it, because it kinda sounded like Dubuque, Iowa, where I have my cousin Mark where he owns a grocery store. Nice place. Anyway, the word was ‘
dabaq’, because it sounded like Dubuque, I asked reverend if it was spelled that way, and he spelled out for the whole congregation, which was really nice of him. But after the sermon, Mrs. Shubert whispered to my little lady Evelyn that the reverend preached that sermon, because he found out his favorite niece Margie who would never date a boy, not even the quarterback of the football team was secretly admiring Reese Jacobsen!”
“Who’s she?” asked Ros.
“A gal from her high school class. But Reese married Jonny Griffith, and has two beautiful boys. She ain’t that way.”
“It’s a small town, maybe the Reverend’s niece didn’t find what she was looking for there.”
“I reckon so, ma’am. But anyway, that’s the rumor. To this day, I never knew why the Reverend gave that sermon. But he just let it at that, and let it simmer and said, that it was curious the word ‘cleave’ was right there in that context, and raised his bushy eyebrows, and being Irish, you wouldn’t think he would have those kind of bushy eyebrows, but he did nonetheless, and I never forgot that sermon. So, there you have it.”
“So are Ruth and Naomi lesbians?”
“That’s the curious thing. Naomi married her off to Boaz, a distant male relative or other. In them days, if you were a widow, life was hard ma’am. So, you had to have a husband.”
“Maybe they were just close friends. Sometimes, friends are closer than relatives.”
“Maybe you’re right ma’am. We have no way of asking them anyhow. They’re long gone. Maybe they were just too loyal to each other.”
“It’s probably wishful thinking on your Reverend’s behalf.”
“No matter what it was, I ain’t gonna judge you ma’am. That’s God’s place, and I ain’t playing God. And besides, I have a disabled son my little lady is taking care of at home. Who knows what I’d done and God is punishing me for it...” he say sorrowfully.
I narrow my eyes.
“Why would you think that God’s punishing you with a disabled child?”
“Oh, no! He ain’t a disappointment. He’s the sweetest boy you can hope to have. He’s fifteen now, but a father wishes his son to play football in the team, and I’d like to take him on a trip with me. But, he has these seizures and the doctors never did figgir out why he has ‘em. Evelyn, my little lady and I took him to doctor to doctor, and he ain’t getting better. I mortgaged this rig to get him taken care of, but, money’s gone and no results,” he says worried.
“How do you figure this is a punishment?”
“Son, look at me! I’m 55 years old. That’s the kid we tried to have for years and finally had, and he had these problems. And now, I caint fix him. I must have done something wrong when I was younger because I’m a disappointment of a father. You want to be able to provide for your family and fix their ailments, and I ain’t able to do that. That kid deserves a better father than me,” he says shaking his head.
“What’s his name?” I find myself asking.
“Trevor,” he says proudly. “Sweetest young man you’ll ever meet, present company excepted. Evelyn home schools him, because we don’t want him to be teased at school if he has one of his episodes. Kids can be cruel, and you know how it is for teenagers,” he says.
I knew all too well how it was to be different.
“I think your kid is lucky to have the best father there is for him,” I say to Len as Ros looks at me curiously.
“That’s kind of you to say it young man. Say, what kind of accident did you have anyway? Where is your car?”
“We didn’t have a car crash. We had a helicopter crash,” I say as a matter of factly.
“You don’t say! Well, then God really must love you young man,” he says to me, and turns to Ros, and adding, “...and you, young lady to spare you to those who love you!”
“Yes, we are very lucky,” adds Ros in a small voice.
From the distance, I could see the familiar silhouette of the city of Seattle in the distance, and my heart lurches with excitement to see Anastasia again.
“Well, we’re getting close to home, kids,” says Len with excitement as the truck moves on the highway shaking his oversize belly.
“We’ll drop you home first young lady. Looking at the size of those heels, you might wanna soak your feet in some Epsom salt. I don’t know how you city girls walk in them shoes. I’d trip and break my back!” he says chuckling.
“Well Len, then I’m glad they fall onto my lot than yours,” she laughs back happy with the prospect of getting home.
“Our homes are very close to each other actually, Len,” I say. “You’ll need to go to downtown Seattle. Mine is a big building called Escala, you can’t miss it. Ros is almost across the street from me.”
“Stone throw away, huh?”
I laugh at his assessment. “You can say that.”
“You gotta direct me to the building you want me to go young lady,” Len says to Ros.
As we approach Ros’ building, I could see some photographers waiting around at her building. Ros and I getting lost wasn’t a secret apparently. News leaked. I look at Ros.
“You might wanna call Andrea for me, and have her contact PR and make a statement saying we’re fine, and nothing to worry. And if it leaked, she might have to contact my parents. They might want to find out,” I say.
“Might? Son, you’re not a father I gather, but any parent would want to know that their kid is okay especially if they had an accident. They must be worried sick! Let your mom and dad know you’re okay,” he says.
“I’ll do that,” I say giving a small smile for his benefit.
“We really appreciate for all your help Len! Look, we have 600 bucks between the two of us now. Are you sure you don’t want it? You took a detour, and shared your food with us. And you could use the money for your kid.”
“That’s kind of you son, but, Evelyn would have my hide if I got paid for a kind deed. If you ever get back to our neck of the woods, Mitchell, South Dakota, look me up, Len Mattson, or if I’m on the road, my Evelyn would love to have you guys over.”
“Thank you. We are in your debt,” I say to him solemnly and quite surprised at the kindness of a stranger.
Ros points to her building, and we drop her off.
I point Len to my building, and he pulls the truck in front of Escala. He’s surprised with the small army of photographers outside as I was.
“News of you getting lost is out then, son,” he says extending his hand. “You must be an important man of your own right.”
“Thank you Len. I won’t forget your kindness.”
“Ohh, think nothing of it,” he says shyly. “Call your mama, now. See you around son,” he says, and I shake his hand. I get down in my bare feet, my socks, my shoes Ros handed to me before she got off, and my jacket in my hand.
I wave to Len as he drives off smiling.
“Mr. Grey! Mr. Grey! John Brattell from Seattle Times. Do you have a statement for us, sir?”
“Mr. Grey, is it true that your helicopter went down?”
“Mr. Grey, are there any casualties with your accident sir?”
“Mr. Grey! Mr. Grey! The news of your helicopter getting lost is all over the place. How did you get rescued, and how did you get home?”
“My office will make an official statement. Good night gentlemen,” I say as Steve the doorman opens the door allowing me in, and closing it right after.
“Good evening sir. I’m glad you’ve made home,” he says nodding his head.
“Me, too,” I say smiling oddly.
I hit the call button on the elevators in the lobby. It feels like forever for the elevator to reach down to the lobby and open up. I’m nervous that Jose and Anastasia are alone in the apartment. I hate the idea of another man alone with her. I am writhing in jealousy right now. But I have missed her beyond belief. Did she know I was missing? Did she worry about me? I just want to hold my girl, and ... I couldn’t even bring the rest of the thought. The elevator dings open, and I walk in holding my socks, shoes and jacket in my hands. I punch in the code, and the elevator door closes. The seconds couldn’t past fast enough for me to reach her. My heart lurches to my throat. I could have and died today, and left her behind. This has awakened something in me. I want reaffirmation of life, I want to kiss, and love and feel her. In fact, I want to fuck the hell out of her tonight. Hell, I want to love her, be carnal, be primal, be in her, on her, around her... Just be with her. I need her like I need my next breath!
As the elevator reaches up to my penthouse, and doors dings open, I am taken aback with the large gathered crowd inside my apartment. What are they all doing here?
I hear my mother shriek like her heart is being ripped off with my name on her lips:
“Christian!” like she’s calling to her lost child. The next thing I see is my mother running not towards me, but at me ungracefully and just slamming into my body like a strongside linebacker on Superbowl Sunday as if she’s ready to tackle the running back! I only have enough time to I drop my shoes, socks, and my jacket to the floor to catch my mother and steady myself. She throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheeks over and over again like I came back from dead. And oddly, I feel no apprehension for her holding me like this as she has never done this or shown me this sort of emotion.
“Mom? You okay?” I ask bewildered gazing down at her. She’s always so controlled, and so sure of her words and her emotions. I have never, ever seen her lose control like this and her emotions never came flooding like that, except perhaps when I went into fights at school, and when I dropped out of college, but even then, it had never been with this intensity, and never had I seen an outpouring of love like this, it floors me.
“Son, I thought I would never see your beautiful face again,” she says in a choking whisper, resurfacing my fears.
“I’m here now, mom,” I say in a strained voice trying to comfort her, I stroke her back absently.
“Honey, I died a thousand deaths today, worrying, crying,” she says sniffling in a hushed whisper. Then my mother, Doctor Grace Trevelyan-Grey starts sobbing and gasping unabashedly. What? Wow! Oh! My mom is crying for me! For me! Why? I look at my mother who now looks like a child lost her favorite toy, and I feel compelled to comfort her, and hold her into my embrace.
“Christian, oh baby, I’m...” she says sobbing, and holding me tighter and crying on my neck without any restraint, and with complete relief. I can’t say anything in response but to hold her tighter and rock her in a soothing manner to comfort her. It must have been my mother’s cries that alert my father who rushes out of Taylor’s office into the living room, and he comes barreling down towards both of us.
“Oh, dear God! He’s alive! Shit! You’re home!” and with that he’s holding my mother and I both into a bear hug, unshed tears pooled in his eyes, and he tries to hold them back, in his relief.
Unable to comprehend his response, all I can say is, “Dad?” questioning his mood. Why? He squeezes us hard, and absently rubs my back, and I somehow don’t flinch from his touch. Mia comes running in long strides and barrels into us all and joins into our group hug. Finally my father unable to contain his tears in his eyes, pulls back, sniffles, tries to compose himself and wipes his eyes away with the back of his hands like a child, and finally claps me on my shoulder unable to utter a word without choking. Mia, and finally my mother leave the embrace slowly, and my mother regaining some of her composure manages to mutter a, “sorry son.”
“No, mom, it’s alright,” I say bewildered with her emotional outburst.
“Where have you been Christian? What’s happened to you son?” she weeps, her head in her hands unable to contain her grief once again.
I blink several times unused to seeing her in such a sorrow. All this is over me?
“Oh, mom,” is all I can say, and I pull her into my arms again, kissing her hair. “I’m alright mom, I’m here now. It’s just taken me hell of a time to get back from Portland. What’s going on with this welcoming committee?” I say and I look around the crowd. My eyes seek one person, and one particular person alone. I finally find her. My eyes lock with her, the sight I longed to see all day; the sight that have been my lifeline. And her hand is held and comforted by none other than fucking Jose’s! My eyes are fixed on his hands encasing my girl’s. I blink up at him territorially, and instinctively he lets go of her hands. My mouth still goes into a tight line. I have dreaded seeing this all day, that someone else might be comforting her in my absence. And here’s that someone else. Anastasia’s eyes are red, and swollen, her lips are pink, swollen with her cries.
But, I’m still confused with all these people at my home. What’s going on?
“I’m alright mom. What’s wrong?” I ask her, and she holds my face in both her hands like she does a small child’s.
“You’ve been missing all day son! We’ve learned that...” she stops, trying to collect herself. “We’ve learned that your flight plan, well, your flight never made it to Seattle. Why didn’t you contact us? Any of us?” she says distraught.
“I’m sorry mom. I never thought it’d take this long to get back,” I reply.
“Fine, but, didn’t you think of calling us at all?”
“There was no battery power left in my cell.”
“Christ, son, you should have stopped somewhere, and called collect, why didn’t you?”
“It’s a very long story mom. Didn’t get a chance,” I respond.
“Christian Grey! Don’t you ever do that to me again! Do you understand me? Ever!” she scolds me half shouting, with sorrow and relief ridden eyes.
“Okay, mom. I won’t,” I say wiping her running tears away, and give her another hug. When I let go of my mother, Mia comes to hug me but not before she lands a hard slap on my chest.
“You jerk! Do you know how much you worried us?” she shouts in tears, and hugs me again.
“I’m sorry. I’m home now, for God’s sake,” I mutter. Once I release Mia, my brother Elliot comes forward. My dad holds Mia under one arm and he wraps his other arm around my mother. My brother, my macho brother comes and hugs me to my complete surprise, and he lands a hard slap on my back with his hands.
“It’s so great to see you bro!” he says gruffly trying to conceal his emotions, but unable to.
Anastasia is frozen in her place, and Katherine whispers something to her. I just can’t take my eyes off her.
“Mom, dad,” I say my gaze fixed on Anastasia, “I’m going to go and say hello to my girl now,” and they step away nodding and smile.
My eyes fixed on hers, I move in slow but determined steps, still unable to believe that I am seeing her again. She rises up from her seat, and falters, and finally bolts into my open arms.
“Christian! Christian! Christian!” she sobs in my arms. Relief finally floods me to have her back in my arms, and her scent, her presence, her voice awakens all my senses. I bury my face in her hair, inhaling her, devouring her scent, and feeling life in me once again.
“Hush baby, I’m here now,” I whisper, and just hold her. She finally manages to hold her face up to look up at me, and I kiss her.
...