[audisingapore]

Chapter Two


Choma carried the girl in the house and laid her carefully on the sofa. He might have walked right past her had his ears not picked up the sharp wheeze of her breathing. The girl looked like death and his mind was in shambles. He knew the first priority was to get off her wet clothes but it didn’t feel right to strip the poor girl naked. He needed help. Larisa would know what to do but he didn’t like leaving her alone in the state she was in. Yet, too worried not to, he covered her in blankets and hurried to his battered old truck.

***

“What is she doing in those wet clothes?” Larisa exclaimed walking in the room. “Choma Danylovych, what on earth were you thinking?” It was the first time in years Choma heard Larisa swear. “You old fool, it’s the wrong bloody time to be a prude.” Choma hung his head. Larisa was right and he was ashamed of his earlier sheepishness. “Off with you then. Put water to boil and bring her something dry to sleep in,” she said hurrying to remove her clothes.

Roma returned with a long cotton shirt. “You’ll have to help me. I can’t dress her on my own. Don’t be ridiculous, Choma, God knows it’s not the first time you see a naked woman.” This isn’t a woman, she’s a girl, he thought dismally but didn’t contradict.

“Prop her up,” ordered Larisa and Choma slid his hands to the small of her back and lifted. As her body rose into a sitting position, the blanket slid down and Choma saw her beautiful round breasts with tiny half erected nipples. His thoughts instantly wandered to what they would feel like in his hands, how would it feel to press his lips to that soft flesh.

As soon as it had appeared the sight was gone; Larisa had gotten the girl’s hands into the sleeves and buttoned the shirt up commanding him to carry their patient upstairs. Her soft body felt soft through the thin fabric and, shivering, Choma took her into the small bedroom and lay her on the mattress. There was something disturbingly erotic in her unconscious form on the bed before him, but Larisa’s voice woke him to reality. “Bring some juice and all hot water bottles you have. And a decent book if you don’t mind, I’ll get under the covers to warm her up.”

“Will she be ok?” asked Choma.

“I honestly don’t know,” answered Larisa shaking her head.

Choma tried to go about his work but was plagued by images of the girl’s naked breasts and the two women huddling tightly against each other under the blankets. He couldn’t concentrate and spent the day walking around aimlessly, his thoughts constantly on the room upstairs and the sick girl within. In the evening Larisa took her leave imploring him to vigilance, “She has a high fever, keep a close eye on her. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how she’s doing.”

Choma sat with her the whole night wiping her face with a wet cloth. Larisa had remade her dishevelled braid, and it ran on the duvet leading Choma’s eyes once more onto her chest. He tucked the coil of hair in with the girl to rid himself of the image of her breasts. Choma expected to unravel her mystery but though she kept murmuring and babbling it was impossible to make out what she was saying. At times she woke up from a nightmare, eyes wide in terror, but when he tried to talk to her she didn’t respond and fell back asleep.

Choma took pity on her. She was restless, tossed and turned, kicking her duvet aside. Dutifully he tucked her back in, each time trying to ignore her pale legs and thoughts of placing his hand on her thigh and sliding it up along her soft skin all the way beneath the hem of her shirt. His solitary life had mellowed his passions, but to have someone enticing and vulnerable there for his taking rekindled the needs he’d long subdued. No, he said to himself countless times during the night, don’t even think about it.

Come morning he woke up from his chair, every muscle stiff. The girl looked angelic in the soft orange light. Choma reached for her braid and slid it in his hand; his crotch stirred and so did his quilt. It was wrong of him to desire her. Too young, he chided himself and snorted, too unconscious. Still, he neglected his work and hovered over his little patient, stroking her brow and soothing her when she got restless.

Sometimes her distress had a wanton shade and she grasped his petting arm, writhing against it, trying to push it down towards her crotch. When she got like that, it took all his self discipline to pull his hand away and leave the room. It would have been so easy to convince himself then that she was willing, and use her inert body to sate himself.

He said nothing of those moments to Larisa when she arrived to check on her as promised. However the remedies of Larisa Ivasivna didn’t extend much beyond common sense and there was nothing more she could do for the girl. They would have to let the fever run its course.