Inferno Anthology (201 page)

Catherine finally broke the spell. “Ms. Claire, please come in. We need to shut the windows. You’ll get wet.”

Claire came in and went to her suite. The howling of the wind electrified her emotions. She knew Anthony would return today. She hated him with every bit of her being. She detested his patronizing demeanor, his callous attitude, and above all his abusive mentality. And she hated being alone. She liked Catherine very much, but she treated Claire like a guest or a superior. Claire longed for someone to talk to, to laugh with, and to just be near. With all her heart and soul, she didn’t want that person to be Anthony Rawlings. Therefore, when 5:00 PM arrived and Claire waited for word of his arrival, she should have been pleased with Catherine’s report. “Mr. Rawlings is delayed due to the storm fronts. The pilot won’t fly west of Chicago, due to high cloud banks. He’ll be home tomorrow evening and plans to dine with you at that time. You’ll know more tomorrow.”

Claire thanked Catherine for the information, ate her dinner, read a little, and went to bed.

AFTER ANTHONY RETURNED
, the schedule he discussed went into full gear. She was in her suite at 5:00 PM each evening to learn his plans. Things were very busy with his work and many nights he didn’t visit at all. Sometimes they ate in her suite and sometimes in the dining room. Sometimes he called upon her for her duties, other times he said he had work to do. The days turned to weeks and the weeks to another month.

The positive aspect was that there’d been no more
glitches
. That didn’t mean that Claire experienced anything like the afternoon in her suite. On the contrary, each task to fulfill her contractual agreement was about him. Nonetheless, she felt content to avoid the explosive unpredictable glitches.

At some point during the beginning of May after Anthony was finished with Claire, he chose to stay in her bed. She realized this after she fell asleep and woke in the middle of the night to the sound of his breathing—steady and rhythmic. The consciousness of his presence frightened her. Did he have additional plans? Should she be doing something? She was too afraid to wake him and ask. Instead, she quietly, slowly moved to the edge of
her
side of the bed and fell back to sleep. When she awoke in the morning, he was gone.

On May 12, a Sunday, Catherine informed Claire that she and Mr. Rawlings would be eating on the back patio. The temperature had steadily increased, and the backyard was vibrant with color: intense shades of greens, ruby reds from the red bud trees, and pure white from the dogwood trees. Anthony employed groundskeepers that had been busily planting thousands of annual flowers in the gardens, beautiful clay pots, and flowing hanging baskets. The pool was recently opened with ever-flowing fountains which at night produced a colorful light show that changed the water from clear, to pink, to blue, to green, to red, and back to clear.

Claire remembered the day, because as they sat to eat Anthony asked, “Have you been swimming in the outdoor pool yet? It’s heated.”

After so much time of following his rules and being incarcerated inside, her bravado failed; she started to cry. Her reaction obviously surprised him. Through muffled tears Claire replied, “This is the first time I’ve been outside in two months. I didn’t think I was allowed to go outside.”

If he had been initially moved at her emotional response, he quickly recovered. “Yes, that’s correct. I know exactly how long it’s been since you have been outside.” His voice resumed the authoritative tone she despised. “And I’m happy to hear you still remember who’s in control of your access to additional privileges.”

Claire nodded her head ever so slightly, she understood. Anthony cleared his throat. She looked into his eyes trying to blink the tears from hers. “Yes, I understand, but, I truly love being outside.”

“Surely you are smart enough to figure this out,” Anthony teased.

Confused and upset by the loss of her falsely perceived equality, Claire said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Claire, I’m an important man. I have hundreds of thousands of people in hundreds of companies who depend upon me for their livelihood. I balance a lot on my plate. Being observant to your wants and whims is not on my list of priorities. If you want to go outside ask.”

The simplicity startled her, and the reality nauseated her. She was an adult, and she was asking permission to go outside. Her memory seemed foggy, but she couldn’t recall doing that since she was maybe ten or eleven. It was one of his tests. Would she surrender to his authority or would she refuse and spend the summer inside? If she surrendered was it really submission or was it her way of manipulating the situation? The internal debate continued for a short time.

“Anthony, may I please leave the house and go outside?”

“You may be outside; however, you may not leave the property without me or my permission.” His tone continued; nonetheless, Claire’s only concern was his meaning. He continued, “Remember to be available to me whenever I’m here. Therefore, no wandering the grounds if I’m present, and you must be in your suite by 5:00 PM each evening for instructions. Can you follow these rules?”

“Oh, yes, I can!”

It may still be a prison, but it had just multiplied in size.

Greed, for lack of a better word is good. Greed in all its forms for life, for money, for love, for knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind.

—Gordon Gekko,
Wallstreet

THE CLOUD OF
smoke levitating near the suspended ceiling created a haze, making the florescent lights appear dim within the small office. Nathaniel clenched his teeth while analyzing the figures. Since taking the company public, the numbers showed profits. The stock continued to grow, and industry reports were favorable. Rawls Corporation was in the black, and considering the current economic climate of the 1970’s, that was good. The problem was Nathaniel Rawls didn’t want
good
. He wasn’t content with
black
. He wanted more—a lot more. The sound of the furnace blowing warm air created a hypnotizing hum. He leaned back, took a long draw on his cigarette, and rubbed his temples. How could he make the figures in the profit column multiply? Hell, others were doing it. He wanted to too.

Punching the black button on the small box, he bellowed, “Connie, get Samuel in here, now.”

The crackling voice responded immediately. “Yes, sir, Mr. Rawls.”

SAMUEL ENTERED THE
small paneled office inhaling the suspended cloud. The sight of his father hunched over the books and spreadsheets meant only one thing: he was in for the
We can do better
speech. “Yes, Father, did you want to see me?”

“Have you seen the latest figures?”

“Yes, sales to major distributors are up eighteen percent.”

“That’s chicken feed! Textiles can’t make shit in the United States. We have to revisit the idea of moving operations out of country. In Mexico we can produce the same merchandise for less than a quarter of what it costs here. Hell, the unions here in Jersey are costing us a fortune.”

Samuel learned long ago to pacify his father, let him blow off some steam and things would settle. “We’ve looked into that. The problem is that we would lay off hundreds of workers who’ve been loyal through the years. Besides, as I said, we are in the black.”

Nathaniel blew a cloud of smoke toward his son. “I’ve decided to hire Jared Clawson as CFO, chief financial officer. The man has some innovative ideas.”

“Didn’t he just leave New England Energy amid allegations of illegal activities?”

“Nothing was proven. Besides, I’ve seen the figures. When Clawson was assisting with finance at NE Energy, their profits were through the roof. Since his departure, they’re doing well to keep the grids going.” Samuel remained silent. “The man is a damn genius. We’ve met a few times. He believes Rawls has potential, and he has some great ideas.”

Samuel knew his opinion didn’t matter. If Nathaniel’s mind was made up, Jared Clawson was coming on board. The only thing he could do was watch, and do his best to stop anything illegal before it began. “The contracts with Huntington House are in their final stages. They have plans for a new clothing line. The potential for revenue is huge. They have distributors all up and down the East Coast.”

“Damn chicken feed,” Nathaniel grumbled.

A strong positive mental attitude will create
more miracles than any wonder drug.

—Patricia Neal

SURVIVAL FOR THE
last two months was facilitated by a technique Claire called
compartmentalization
. She couldn’t bear the entirety of her situation, but she could handle a part at a time. The colossal lapse in judgment that brought her to this circumstance: the treatment, punishment, or consequence that
he
felt he had the right or ability to carry out, the duties he could tell her to do, and the fact that she obeyed, were all too much. She had to separate them and deal with them in small manageable bits. Some days that was possible—other days it was more difficult.

Her morning workouts now included swimming and weight training. Exercise supposedly produced endorphins, and endorphins helped elevate mood. That seemed like a good idea.

Before she was allowed outside, Claire spent many afternoons with a blanket and a good movie. The lower level of the house contained a movie theater. With Anthony’s busy schedule, she wondered if he ever used the theater. It held hundreds—if not thousands—of digital movies. Claire loved the classics, especially musicals. They were a magnificent escape from reality. She could lose an entire afternoon curled up in a large soft recliner watching happy people sing and dance.

It was near the end of May, and Claire had taken advantage of her outdoor liberty every chance she could by lounging at the pool, walking in the gardens, or reading books in the yard. Now, she wanted to explore. The woods held the possibility of both plant and animal life. It had been a few years since she studied Earth science, but she believed it would come back
.
Anthony said his house had been on this land for fourteen or fifteen years. Claire believed no one had been back in the woods for years. The potential for real undisturbed wildlife excited her. Not that there would be bears or lions but deer, rabbits, birds, and rodents. In her current situation, self-preservation encouraged her to find happiness wherever possible.