A POKER GAME

A POKER GAME
Ksenia Kisselincheva

She was rushing down the dark street but the sight of her crying children at the window was constantly on her mind. Who will cuddle them and who will put them to bed? She doubted that her husband would bother to act as a surrogate mother to them. He would be hard on them and order them to bed like an army officer at the barracks. Actually, he was a professional soldier, so this attitude had become second nature to him. She could not realize how it had all come to that family turmoil. It started with a telephone call while she was serving them dinner. She rushed to answer the landline as usual, but it was a bad line, the call was cut off. When she got back into the kitchen, her husband was seized by a sudden fit of jealousy.

'It must be your lover who entertained you while I was sweating hard in Iraq. It is very arrogant of you to continue this relationship now that I am back.'

 'It's all malicious gossip, I swear upon the lives of my children that I didn't have an affair with Frank. He just helped me to move in the new fridge.'

'I don’t trust you at all,  you turned out to be a slut by nature.'

'Please, don’t speak in that way in front of the children!'

'They must know that their mother is a slut, not worthy of being their mother.'

'What about your numerous love affairs during all these years?'

'This is quite a different matter. Just shut up your gob or you will be in trouble!'

'I don't think this is a fundamentalist Moslem country! So, whether you like it or not, we are supposed to treat each other as equal partners!'

'Stop brandishing this feminist crap in my presence. I am the boss here and there is no room for a “know-it-all” miss. If you don’t want me to get really furious, you'd better collect a few rags and leave my house!' Anyway, the right place of a slut is nowhere else but in the street!'

As Nikola, her husband, hissed angrily, he rose from his seat and was about to sweep away the table-cloth with everything on it.

Zina glanced at her stupefied children and hesitated a bit. However, she knew quite well her husband's violent temper, so she was quick to act. In a hectic blur, she chucked in a few things into her sports bag, then she grabbed her cape and her scarf, leaving in the rush her gloves behind. He caught up with her at the front door and gave her a real hard kick with his heavy military boots. She staggered and moaned with pain. Walking down the street unsteadily, she was oblivious of her pain. She felt quite guilty for leaving her children upset, deprived of her motherly care. It was well past ten o’clock p.m. and the streets looked spooky and deserted. How could she disturb any friends or relatives at this late hour? She could only go to her parents who lived at the other end of the city. How could she turn up before them in this state of distress, without upsetting them strongly? Her father had a serious heart illness and her mother was a diabetic. Zina has tried hard so far to keep her serious family problems secret from them. Yet, if she decided to go there, but she had to hurry and get on the last tram! However, she missed the last tram in the nick of time! Perhaps, this was a blessing in disguise not to put her parents' lives in danger.

'By Jove, where are you going at this late hour?'

She startled and briskly turned around. She recognized Stefan, a young man, who lived in their street, a few blocks away. She did not know much about him, except a few superficial details: he was still at university, having a jolly good time as a bachelor. According to the rapidly-spreading gossip in the neighborhood, he had been going out with a steady girlfriend for the last year. Zina quickly regained her self-composure and said in a casual manner:

'Oh, my God, I had to urgently take some medicines to my parents. Alas, I missed the last tram! There is no bus going close to where they live. On top of everything, I just found out that I had lost the key to my house. I would not like to wake my whole family up.'

. Stefan instantly smelled a rat... Moreover, he knew from his brother that her husband had a violent temper. For a second, he felt sorry for her and came up with a suggestion:

'Zina, why don’t you come along with me? I'm going to a friend's place. We are going to have a game of poker. We usually stay up all night and go home in a cab in the small hours.'

'I don’t feel comfortable to spend the night in the company of strange men.'

'Come on, Zina, I am no stranger to you. My elder brother is a friend of your husband’s. They have been doing together export business for years.'

At the mention of her husband, she shuddered and felt sick. She could not face her parents in this state of mind. They would ask numerous questions and she would not be able to lie to them. They would immediately know with their gut feeling what the truth was. So, she stammered:

'All-right, I-will-come-along. Let’s get some peanuts and crackers from the non-stop shop. I wouldn't like to come to the poker party with empty hands.'

'Fine, that’s a good idea.' Stefan took her heavy bag from her and the two of them headed to the shop. She went inside alone, while he acted like her "private guard", waiting for her outside the shop, taking care of her heavy bag.

She hoped strongly that she would not meet inside the shop anybody from the neighborhood at this late hour.  She pulled the hood of her cape up and covered half of her face with her scarf. The cashier gazed at her with curiosity and thought that she must be ill. That's why she was quick to serve Zina. On leaving the shop, she looked at Stefan intently...'He seems like a decent young chap! Now I am scared and am a bit paranoid because of my terrible row with my husband.' she   thought.

They entered a dilapidated two-storey house a few blocks away. She was in a hurry to rush to the bathroom and take care of her appearance. Her hair was disheveled, her lipstick was smeared and her face was the color of earth. Before she left the bathroom, she was shocked with her reflection in the mirror! It was a bit like a death mask. When she left the bathroom, she saw that another man of the poker four had just arrived. He was a burly guy who had the plump cheeks of a boy. His nickname was Becho and he had a funny nervous tic of winking his eyes whenever he tried to outwit his pals and was found out cheating during the game.

 The game was just taking off. The atmosphere was getting tenser and tenser while the cards were expertly dealt around by Peter, who was the host. Each one of the players was watching closely the other partners, oblivious of the woman's presence. Stefan had already had Zina seated in an armchair and he had turned on the TV. It was placed in a corner, away from the dining table, where the poker game spirit was gathering speed.

 A crime thriller was shown on the crime and investigation channel. Though she favored this kind of movie quite a lot, she could hardly concentrate on what was going on the screen. She was worrying about her children all the time! She wondered - had they been able to go to sleep, after witnessing the ugly scene in the kitchen?

She realized that in the first place she had made a fatal mistake by telling her husband about Frank's insistent courting, watched closely by her nosy next-door neighbors.

Before her husband left on a mission to Iraq, he had been coming home very late and very drunk. She did not say a word, she just moved to the couch in the living room. She had been greatly hurt by his macho arrogance! Very often she cried quietly in desperation, while tossing around because she was unable to fall asleep until dawn.

When he came back from Iraq, he looked emaciated and wrecked. He looked like someone who had gone through the purgatory of hell. And she hoped strongly they could get rid of the mutual suspicion and have a restart of their relationship.

She admitted to him about her short-lived infatuation with Frank. She did not want him to learn about it from the busy bodies next-door. Or, probably, she was old-fashioned enough to believe naively that there should be no lies between a husband and a wife.

How stupid she had been! Most of the families she had known at close hand had been living together, bound in a welter of lies and mutual blackmail! What she had done, could not be undone! Now she had to pay a heart-rending price for it.

 She almost dozed off by the end of the movie. However, she was awoken by the heated argument among the players. Stefan was vehemently accusing Becho of cheating on him and insisted on having his money back. He made a menacing gesture of hitting him and while doing that, almost overturned Becho's glass of whisky. Stefan shouted furiously:

'I cannot stand anyone insulting my intelligence!'

Peter resolved their argument by giving the heap of money back to Stefan. He seemed as the one who was in charge of the game. So, to calm their spirits a bit, he produced a bottle of whisky from a cupboard and gave them all another helping of about 50 grams. The bottle was half way full.

The fourth guy had an inscrutable face like a mask but his eyes darted incessantly all over the place. Zina heard them call him Gogo. She was tired and tried to focus her attention on the screen, so she did not notice that time and again, he furtively looked in her direction.

The movie was over. Therefore, she switched to another channel fast. It was a Fashion Channel- a high fashion or haute couture show was running from the catwalk in Milano. She got absolutely fascinated with the beauty of the models, gracefully putting forward the extravagant imagination of the designers. 'But - she thought - this was all done in order to please and excite men. These women walked like robots, exuding lust and allure to attract the male animal!'

It struck three o’clock in the morning.  On that day, she had been working hard at the office until six. Then she had to cook and serve dinner to her family. She planned to iron the laundry after dinner.

However, the unexpected kitchen row overturned all her plans. At that instant, she was all night in a room with four strangers, away from home! But, she knew Stefan, he was her next-door neighbor and he had been kind to her so far. As she was watching a rock musical, she could not resist falling asleep.

She was startled by a jolt on the shoulder. She opened her eyes and looked around. She was petrified when she saw that Stefan had left. She was alone with Peter, Gogo and Becho. She panicked and mumbled:

 'Where has Stefan gone?'

Peter laughed sardonically and said:

'You did not mean to screw him, did you? His wife called him and he rushed out like an ambulance on an emergency call.'

She looked around, trying to find her bag, her cape and her scarf. To her horror, she could see them nowhere around!

'Where are my things? I want to leave!'

Gogo, who looked like a furtive guy, hissed through his teeth:

 'You-do-not-set-the rules-here. You will do, as you are told.'

 Peter added in a mocking manner:

'You have to reward us for the free accommodation we offered you.'

 'What do you mean?' she asked, stammering with horror.

 Peter asked in a mocking tone:

'Don’t you do it with your husband? Well, long married couples are usually as dead as dodos in bed. But we will help you use your womanly charm again.'

 Gogo chuckled, while Peter was moving the table to a corner, turning up the music full blast. Of course, that was low-grade “chalga”, a disgusting pseudo-oriental stuff which had been super hot since the start of the so called transition period.  They played it everywhere: on buses, in restaurants and taverns, on many private TV channels. The women were supposed to do belly-dancing on table tops, while the men stuffed money into their bras and panties.

Becho got a call on his mobile and he vanished, without saying goodbye. 

Gogo and Peter started dancing in a mock Greek sirtaki like style, taking in between big gulps of whisky. She rushed to the door. But to her horror, she found that it was locked. Both of them laughed heartily, being greatly amused. They pushed her back rudely into her armchair.

Peter shouted at her:

'Now it is your turn, baby!'

'Hold on a minute. I am not in the mood yet.' She scurried to the table, grabbed the empty bottle and brandished it menacingly:

'Don’t you get near me, or I’ll kill you!'

Both men got behind her instantaneously. They struggled and snatched the bottle from her hand and painfully twisted her arms behind her back. They acted with the spontaneous fun of a children’s game and they seemed to enjoy tremendously her desperate attempts to resist them.

 'Come on, you are a wild mare who needs taming. There are two jockeys to do the job here.'

They both grabbed her and banged her head against the cupboard. She slipped down on the floor and lost consciousness. When she came to, they were slapping her on the face.

By that time, her boots were off and her blouse was unbuttoned halfway. She started punching them in the face but it only got them more furious and more determined to get on with it. One of them held her arms behind, while the other one ripped her blouse open and started taking off her corduroy pants. As soon as she started shouting vehemently, Gogo gagged her mouth with his dirty handkerchief, while Peter was wildly twisting her arms above her head. He hissed at her:

 'Don’t tell me, silly cow that your husband is a prosecutor and you will get us into prison. Your husband does not give a damn about you and now he is having a good time in bed with a pretty younger chick.'

She tried to speak. Nothing but a mooing sound was

heard. Her mouth had been tightly gagged. Stark

naked, she crawled across the floor on all fours,

trying to cover her naked body with her long woolen

jumper. While she was doing that, Gogo stuck the

empty whisky bottle up her fanny. Both men laughed

their heads off, they were greatly amused by their

dirty sex game.

'Now you will do a bit of a show!' Peter shouted,

getting her boots out of the cupboard. While Gogo

was pouring whisky over her the nipples of her

breasts, Peter was pulling her boots onto her naked feet.

They played a CD with a Moulin Rouge can-can, which was performed in some elite night clubs. Both pushed her and forced her to raise her legs higher in tune with the music. They clapped their hands and shouted:

'Come on! Raise your legs higher, put some beef into it, you do it like an old mare!'

When she did it quite reluctantly, they gave her a kick on the naked bottom with their heavy hobnailed boots. Little by little, they started taking their clothes off and made her crawl naked on all fours. She grabbed one of her own boots and hurled it, missing Peter's head. Gogo grabbed her by her hair and banged her head against the cupboard. She passed out.

 'It is good practice for her if she wants to please her husband tomorrow night.'

When she came to, she shouted:

'I’ll send the police after you. I have enough evidence on my body!'

'Don’t you dare to threaten us, you bitch! You cannot count on Stefan as a witness, he is gone! And this is not my place at all. I borrowed the key from the last tenant. The owner lives and works abroad.'

They gagged her mouth again. She felt an excruciating pain from their hard kicks, on top of an unbearable sense of humiliation. All she could do was to keep mooing like an angry cow. They banged her around and beat her up with a golf stick, so she was all blood, sweat and bruises. She thought to herself: I must make those two quarrel! While she was thinking of how she could unclog her mouth, she was punched by them in the jaw and almost fainted with pain.

 She made a sign that she wanted to speak. They unclogged her mouth for a while. She asked temptingly:

'Is there a bathroom with a bathtub here? I know some special tricks that could be done in the water.' Peter opened a door and let the water flow into the bathtub.

 Then she said:

 'I want to be there with you first!' She coquettishly wriggled her body like a Playboy bunny and pointed artistically her index finger at Peter.

 Gogo was definitely insulted and annoyed:

'You have no say here. Mind you, I go first, before the mare is too tired.'

Peter exclaimed: 

'Gogo, I'm the boss here. Don't keep getting on my nerves, or I will kick you out of the door!'

'You cannot kick me out of the door so easily!'

 Gogo snarled:

'Don’t forget that I have a black belt in karate.'

Peter got even more furious and they caught at each other’s throats. While they were locked in a wrestling knot, the water in the bathroom was overflowing. Zina rushed to turn the tap off. In the meantime, Peter had knocked Gogo down. While still keeping him flat on his back, he told him to get up and immediately leave. Gogo cursed him continuously and growled:

'She is a rag by now. She is not even worth spitting on.

He picked up his jacket, got the key out of the hideout and angrily hurled it at Peter's feet. Zina tried to grab it, but Peter bashed her on the head and picked it from the floor. Then he blindfolded her and put it back into its hideout. She was mad at her torturer but she pretended she had a crush on him. There was only one male beast left to deal with! '

She simulated that she was happy to play as many sex games with Peter as he could take. She suggested sharing a glass of whisky with him in order to get both properly "tuned" for the bathroom séance. He realized he was the winner of "the stag contest" and he was truly flattered. She let him lick some whisky off her nipples and her navel and she whispered in his ear in a seductive tone:

'I know some tricks like those fabulous playmates in Thailand. You have heard of the massage parlors in Bangkok, haven’t you?'

 Peter nodded and gulped down more whisky in anticipation of his sexual bliss. When he turned with his back to her to check up for more booze in the cupboard, she sneaked into the bathroom and stuffed his leather belt into the pocket of a dirty bathrobe. Then she carefully stepped into the foamy bathtub and cried out in a most seductive manner:

' Come on, honey. The water is getting cold.'

Peter was getting less wary because by that time he was as drunk as a skunk. Moreover, his male ego had been polished by her fake display of an unquenchable desire to fulfill his sex fantasies.

'Lie down in the tub like a Roman patrician and I will get on top of you.' she whispered tantalizingly.

 He hesitated for a while but then he saw no risk in letting her get on top of him. She started slowly by massaging his back and neck and all his sensitive points with shampoo foam. When he turned hard and horny, she rode on him in the water like a bitch in its mating season. Though she hurt badly inside her vagina, though she hurt all over her body, she acted as if she howled and screamed with the ultimate sensual pleasure. He was getting more relaxed, keeping half an eye open on her.

 'Fuck me hard, baby! Ride on little Peter like a lioness in her mating season, ride on him like Red Riding Hood till the end of the world.'

He had closed his eyes and he started howling with sensual ecstasy. He howled in a crescendo steep curve to the peak of his huge orgasm.

The next thirty seconds she was as fast as lightning. For her, it was a matter of life and death! She turned the light off and grabbed the leather belt out of the bathrobe pocket.

'Stop playing these silly games with me, you slut. Turn on the light! Now I would like to suck your throbbing fanny for a while.'

He was unable to continue further. She had already tightened the belt round his throat and had pushed his head down into the water. With all her strength, though she was at the end of her tether. Suddenly, he stopped lashing around, trying to pull himself out of the water. Zina kept tightening the belt until his face turned blue. At last, he sank like a blown up float on the bottom of the bathtub, while the water was gently overflowing.

Now she had all the time in the world and she sighed with relief after this agony, going on for hours on end. Outside, it was already dawning. She staggered out of the bathtub and pulled all the curtains up very tightly. She turned the light on and struggled to wipe off her fingerprints. Oh, my God! These fucking fingerprints were everywhere: on the belt, on his body, on the glass, on everything she had been touching during this chalga-like orgy.

She did the cleaning with pedantic absorption like a surgeon, operating on a patient's body. But, unlike the surgeon, there was a weird streak of sadistic delight in her actions. She did not care, if she would be caught or not. Thank God, the black farce was all over. She meticulously put some make up on her face and she polished her boots with a rag. She put Peter's gloves on, before touching the key, which he had moved to another hideout. Once she was out of the house, she dumped both key and gloves into a dustbin.

Strangely, she had taken her own revenge for having been abused and humiliated. In a man-made world, you could hardly hope to have justice for a woman, secretly abused by men.

 She looked anxiously at her watch. It was five minutes past ten. Hopefully, at this hour, her children must be at school. She had to call their father to find out." He did not answer her call. He does it on purpose. To hell with the bastard! A wave of hatred surged in her tortured soul. She needed badly to see her friend Dora,  for she was a born psychotherapist. How could she face Dora after all that? She would instantly smell a rat.

Zina felt there was an insurmountable barrier between herself and the so-called normal people. She will share her dark secret with God alone. Only Jesus could judge her and hopefully give her forgiveness. Then she will go under cover and seek oblivion in her daily routine. The policemen will turn up at the front door sooner or later. And then her life will never be the same. She wondered how many normal people she met on the street had masks, concealing dark secrets like hers. She probed into their eyes, searching for the telling clue, for that twinkle of guilt which might bond her with them, even for a second or two. Her soul had been scarred for good.

In her troubled dreams, she often saw Peter, rising out of the water and lashing her with the belt across the face. Then she screamed and woke up all in sweat. This occurred time and time again.

The alarm on her mobile went on in the darkness. It was six thirty, time to wake up the children. Then there was another ring. She shivered with horror. It was the doorbell. This must be the policemen.

She wrapped her dressing gown around her shivering body and rushed to the front door. I will be a brave girl and will make no scenes., she promised herself. She flung the door open. There was nobody, it was a complete sound hallucination She splashed water on her face to get over her fit of paranoia. How long will she have to wait for them? Why are they torturing her for ages?

 Later when she had to help her children get dressed, she saw things in a different light. The children were very young and helpless. Did she have a chance to get away with her crime?

Still later, when her husband and the children were out, she loved to take care of the flowers, overhanging the balcony rails. Suddenly, she shuddered with horror. It seemed to her that a pink liquid was pouring out of the watering can. She hurried to the sink and changed the water. Pull yourself up and think only of your duties to the children. She instinctively splashed her face to get over her anxiety.

For a second or two, she saw pink liquid, coming out of the tap.  She withdrew her hands from the tap as if she had touched fire.