Jacob ran the errand to the hardware store though he was distracted by the events of the afternoon for the rest of the day. Such was his distraction that on his first run he came back with the wrong nails and was sent back, whereupon he purchased the wrong quantity. His mind circled, the smell of the perfume filling his mind more potently than a fever. As the evening drew in, Abraham noticed the distraction in his brother, but his illness had stolen his strength, and was forced to bed to recuperate. Jacob waited until late into the night, when he was sure that everyone would have been off to bed. The scent of her had been something not of his world, and his youthful energy wanted to take up the invitation. He gathered his small savings, and made his way quietly down to the saloon.As he entered the half dozen patrons who were left in the bar at this hour were taken aback. Jacob, for all his bravado shyly scuttled through the bar, amid the sharp looks twelve eyes, fixed upon him. When asked what his business was, he revealed her was there to see Miss Clarissa. The barman dutifully called up, announcing the guest, a vicious frown growing ever deeper on his brow as he did so. He returned staring at the negro teenager, a look of disdain and envy in equal parts. Finally he nodded slowly, and the boy climbed the stairs and to the room. As he arrived, he knocked gently, with no answer. He knocked again, a little louder, and jumped at the answer that came from within, “It’s open.” His heart was beginning to pound much as it had done earlier that afternoon, and yet this time it seemed to fill him with an excitement that he had not experienced in his young life.
He crept to the door at the end of the long wooden corridor, and stood outside it. An age passed, his heart pounding so hard that he was sure she might mistake it for a knock and beckon him to enter. Finally he summoned all the strength in his arm to reach up and rap the three knocks at the door. Pause, and then her voice worked its way through the wooden door, delicate and soft. “Come in.” He turned the white door-knob, and stepped slowly into the room.
It was a simple room, clean and homely, with flower decorations on the bedclothes, a small side table with a basin and jug, and a dressing table. A small window looked out over the main street beneath, and the room was lit by the yellow gas light of the street outside. The dressing table contained all manner of jars, lotions, potions and so many bottles that it was a veritable apothecary. And strangely, the room was empty. At the far end, opposite the large bed, was a door that led to the bathroom, and a light crept from it into the bedchamber. It was the bathroom, and the sound of bathing could be heard, along with a gently hum of a female voice. Jacob stood in the room, almost at a loss as to what to do, for he daren’t touch anything or be as bold as to sit on the only chair. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot, looking at that point like a child about to be admonished by a stern teacher. His only comfort was the sweet serenade that was being hummed out to the warm night. “Hand me a towel, wont you,” came the interruption, breaking the spell that had caught his mind in it’s grasp. Suddenly shocked he looked around frantically for the towel that was laid out carefully on the fresh sheets. He grabbed it and stepped towards the bathroom door, sticking it through the askew door, in a somewhat ridiculous act of modesty. For her part, Clarissa was used to this false moment of guilt, and let it fall aside much like the water that dripped from her luscious skin.
She stepped out of the round tub, and carelessly dripping onto the floor, crossed the small bathing room to grab the towel nonchalantly from the intruding hand. As she took it, she let her hand come into contact with his, a warm and delicate touch. Shocked at the contact Jacob was excited into boldness, and peered into the bathroom. From behind the door, his view was partially obstructed, but he could make out the curve of her hip, bare and flickering in the candle light that filled the bathroom. Water ran down the skin in rivulets, caressing the firm curves beneath as it made its way down her slender legs, gathering in a swelling pool on the wooden floor. Once she was adequately dry, she turned and made her way out to the bedroom. Jacob was frightened back into the bedroom, as through being attacked by a wild animal. “Don’t look so scared puppy dog,” she calmed, her hair up and patches of wetness still flecking parts of her skin. She stepped towards him, taking his hand that trembled lightly into her calm grip, and led him over to the cool crisp sheets.
No description of the events that took place that night would ever do them justice, and as so it is suffice to say that it was there, among the cool sea of flower patterned sheets at the old saloon, Jacob became a man.
...to be continued....
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