(This story is part of
Amorous Goods, A Lit Anthology Series
.)
Prologue:
A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. These are the stories of some of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
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Funny how much the preparation centered on my friend, Marie, and choosing a date when her husband was out of town at the same time my husband was traveling. Then the excuse to have her sleep over was not forced. Falling in October, I was incited to try the third gaudus, the last adventure, the forbidden.
"The box is ornate," Marie said. "Very unusual. Where did you get this?" She hesitated but I encouraged her to trace the delicately carved design with her fingers. I perceived a small shudder and a momentary loss of focus before she fixated on the illustration, very similar to my reaction the first time I touched the motif and then all sorts of symbols and figures within the pattern seemed obvious. Hearts and circles with lines symbolizing classical gods of love, serpent-like marks fitting tribal archetypes of fertility, an arc pierced by an arrow from the occult, and more of the phallus and sexual feats.
"I found this odd little shop in the city," I answered her question. "You'd probably call it the shady part of town. It was mixed in with smoke shops and sex boutiques and other stores selling incense and tarot cards and touristy kind of voodoo paraphernalia. I don't know why this shop seemed more authentic. As I entered, the owner led me to a back room where I could examine this box. She was like a gypsy, telling me small things about where I lived and my marriage that she probably guessed from my clothes or my words or my facial expressions to the things she was saying. She told me of her vision, of how I would visit and this box was meant for me, and it all became very convincing that somehow by fate I came to unite with this artifact.
"And how does all this work?" Marie wanted to know. "Why do you light these candles around your room and place these crimson towels beside of your bed?"
"I make it a ritual. Maybe it's my own doing. I wipe them lightly with the towels when I'm done and then I won't erode the natural oils with soap. The experiences guide me, like each time I do the gaudus I learn something new. I let my feelings guide me. For this occasion, for this third gaudus, I bought this special robe, this black satin robe. And I ask you to watch over me, to make sure nothing bad happens. Because I'm nervous. I'm anxious but more, I'm afraid."
"What do you call them?" Marie wanted to know. "Each one is a gaudus, or a gaudu, or all three are gaudi?"
"I don't know, the woman said 'Experience the gaudus' and I called each one a gaudus."
I opened the lid and showed Marie the three wooden objects laying in their molded berths of velvet. Three small knobs like shoe horns or the neck of a bow that could fit in your hand and nest with your palm and the crook of your thumb. The shape and etchings evoked millennia of women seeking gratification. I touched the chestnut colored horn in the middle, and then the dark mahogany horn on the left. But not the light birch horn on the right.
"They don't look like much," Marie commented, but her tone was friendly and light.
"I thought that, too" I agreed. "But after you encounter one and you appreciate the way it grows on you, you won't look at them the same. The first one I experienced was this caramel colored piece in the middle. I was seduced by a bronzed Italian stud on the Riviera. It's crazy, but I think it happened."
Marie looked surprised and also concerned for me.
I continued, "This dark piece on the left took me to a wild adventure in the jungle, where I was forced to submit and yet I woke with rejuvenation. If you watch you will see, I know. But if you can, I fear what this third journey will bring, and I want you to safeguard no physical harm comes to me."
"What makes you worried?" Marie asked. "Why is it different?"
"There's a symbol on the bottom of it," I explained. I lifted the piece and showed her the end. "It's faint but that looks like a Christian cross, and roughly hewn. I feel a strange mixture of emotions when I touch it. And the color is pale, like death."
"Let me touch it," Marie suggested.
"It will be safer if I go first. You'll see how quickly these pieces transform. I'm certain of that. There are many aspects still unclear, as to what took place and what was imagination, and I questioned if I was losing my mind. But you will see the transformation. Watch."
I rolled the pale wood in my fingertips and rubbed my thumbs up the smooth shaft of the bow. Instantly it was larger in my hands. I rubbed it across my chin and smelled the ruddy mix of blood and dirt and sweat. I brushed my cheek flush against the tip. I kissed the soft surface and let the round head nestle on the inside of my lips.
My tongue tasted the underside. I made it wet with my saliva yet savored its own moisture. Heavy and masculine and aggressive. I was offended at first but became accustomed to it. Like the first time when that boy, Jared, kissed me. I wasn't expecting it and I could smell his breath and he must have eaten something like meat. The smell put me off but then I accepted it and learned it like coffee or liquor, and I could anticipate the depth of the kinship like knowledge itself.
My thumbs and fingers worked the shaft, firm and full and slippery from my saliva. The slickness helped the shaft swell. I created friction through a circle of thumb and forefinger. It swelled in in my mouth as I pushed down to receive its length. I felt the ridge of the helmet bump my lips on each pass. I tried to extend my tongue to simultaneously tease the meaty underside and the tender skin along the middle ridge.
