0 comments/  10711 views/  2 favorites

The Girl by the River

By: amicus



I was anxious to arrive and get started and yet at the same time reluctant as I turned the key and stilled the engine of my Forest green four-by. I took the keys and stepped out onto the blacktop of the parking lot at the local market where I parked each time I made this little journey down to the river.

I stood for a moment alongside the vehicle, and felt the temperature and texture of this early spring day that held promise as the sun climbed higher and warmed the landscape. Large and small white clouds of all shapes seemed to be placed in perfect position against the warm blue sky; that special season of rebirth and growth was just almost in the air and I could sense it.

I lit a smoke and used the key to open the back hatch and began to unload the few things I needed. I had the routine set now; this was my fifth trip on this particular quest. There wasn't all that much, the easel and large sketch pad, a yellow canvas folding chair, an apron with a dozen pockets for the pastels and pencils and charcoal and a single strap cloth carry bag with extra supplies of everything that might be needed.

I stood for a moment double checking everything, took another deep drag off the cigarette then ground it out under my shoe, got everything in hand, crossed the sidewalk and street to the top of the sharp incline that served as a boat launch and walked slowly down toward the river taking everything in sight.

I always felt I could detect a different scent to the air next to a moving body of fluid motion in a stream or river. Like the water, gliding down-stream, gave up part of its essence as it hurried on its way.

It was time to pay more attention as I stepped off the roadway to the right and along a trampled trail that led alongside the bank. I glanced up and across the river, noting it had fallen yet more in the week or so since I was last here. In the rainy season it was full to the bank and roiling with muddied content and debris, limbs and branches and sometimes entire small trees uprooted somewhere in the foothills. During the dry late summer months a gravel bar appeared in several places and divided the river into smaller parts.

I knew the path well by now and navigated without a stumble moving slowly upstream and deeper into the wooded and brushy landscape that fronted the river. I smiled inwardly as I recalled walking this before and finding very little worth sketching and remembering. Actually, I wasn't even looking for something to draw, just enjoying the walk and the scenery and the natural quietude of the place. I had decided to push on past where the well used portion of the trail ended and into the tangled brush that led up the bank and away from the river. I remember that by the time I had worked my way through the tangle and followed the path up and down and around downed trees and berry vines, I paused to catch my breath and look around.

There are many words perhaps, meadow, glen, opening, park-like, dream-like ethereal, other worldly, I never found just the right word, maybe even magical and I expected to see little people sitting on mushrooms and little wood nymphs flitting about. Of course, that never happened, but I felt like it might at any moment. That kind of place; where in the proper light, streaming through, mottling the trees, painting shadow patterns on the fertile earth; I knew I had to capture it.

It was taking much longer that I thought it was going to, but in a way, I didn't mind. This is the fifth time I set up and began to sketch. The first time it was just the symmetry of the scene, the setting of the trees and brush and lay of the land; the limbs overhanging the water. Then it was the entire feeling I wanted to capture. I don't do photographic images of pristine nature as it is; if I need a tree or a bush or a branch to harmonize, I create it in my mind and draw it in as it suits me and the vision I have.

Everything was different every time I set up. The amount of cloud cover, the lighting, the new growth just beginning everywhere; even the air was different, more moist or more dry, a light wind or no wind, a calm, bird songs, scurrying unseen creatures through the thickets, ever changing and I wanted to capture that also.

I unfolded the chair, lit another cigarette, then took off the light windbreaker and hung it over the back of the chair and set up the easel and strapped the apron on. I shrugged and stretched and took in the now familiar scenery, letting the feel of the place come into my soul as I joined with nature and became part of it. I plopped down in the chair before the pad, flipped the cover back and went sheet after sheet until I found the latest attempt. I kept the cigarette glowing orange at the tip and stared at what I had drawn so far.

I leaned forward and saw something tiny that needed a tweak, dropped the cigarette and reached into the pouch and made the slight adjustment to the base of a tree, then saw something else and manicured that also and kept doing it oblivious to everything but the canvas.

"I knew it!"

The sharp high pitched female voice startled me into an auto responsive jerk and defensive posture as I went rigid in the chair. "What the hell?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

My head had already swung around to the source of the voice and it surprised me that she stood so close; how could I have not heard her approach? For a moment I could find nothing to say. She was tiny, fragile, barefooted and was wearing....ah, I don't even know how to describe the layers of gauze like material that clung to her shoulders and hung down just below her knees. A shimmering, wavering image of pastel blues and greens and sparkles and a damned Princess crown of flowers on her head, woven into her hair and looking as if it belonged there. Stunned to silence, I could only gasp and blink my eyes.

"You left cigarette butts all over the place. No one ever comes here. It took me a while to figure it out, I was right, you are an artist and I think I know what you are drawing. May I see?"

The high pitch to her voice was gone and replaced with a soft female huskiness that I felt rather than heard. I stuttered out my reply, still recovering from the shock of her being here. "Sure, uh, I don't mind."

"Thanks. Some artists won't let you see until it is finished."

I followed her with my eyes as she moved behind me and leaned down, looking over my shoulder to share the perspective. I could see her head move slightly from side to side and then up and down as she compared the canvas to the scene before us.

"Oh! Gosh. I had a little shiver! I see what you want! Wow! And it works! I can almost see the water moving in the river! And it is like the trees and bushes....ah, are alive and aware of what the river brings! Oh!"

Then she moved alongside the chair and moved her head quickly from canvas to scene. "That tree is not there! Oh! I see. It needed to be there! She continued shifting her glance and pointed at both the canvas and the natural scene surrounding us. The she stopped and paused and folded her arms across her chest. After a moment she turned and walked slowly away and paced in a small circle a few steps away.

After a bit she turned and walked back, pausing to my left and a little in front of me and looked down at my face intensely. "Some artists don't take suggestions well..."

She left the words just hanging. I studied her face as she kept my gaze. Fragile, sculpted lines, fine lines, formed her face. High forehead, wide set eyes...Eyes! God! An almost translucent blue that seemed to draw me into her! Amazing....stunning...a small mouth not full lipped or thin but warm and almost petulant and teasing and uplifted at each corner with a small crease of shadowed muscle on just one side. Oh, to try to capture her face!

"You always wear that beard?"

I think my staring upset her. "You always wear a wreath of flowers in your hair?"

She smiled and colored slightly and made a little titter. "I love this place. I came here to dance as a young girl, I dress like the place makes me feel. I am so happy you see it too."

Now I was a little embarrassed; her open honesty was real and it touched me. I turned back to look at my canvas again.

"May I?"

I turned back to her and nodded once and just a tiny gesture.

She took a step forward and reached one hand and her index finger forward almost touching the canvas. "It needs something here. I know what you wanted to capture and you did, but it is not enough; not for this place, this very, very special place and I think you know it."

Then she backed away and even turned away as if to survive a possible outburst from me. I didn't yell. The moment her finger pointed and the words came forth, I knew she was right, I think I knew it before, weeks before.

"What do you think it needs?"

She turned quickly and her face was angelic and shone. She pointed that very same finger at her chest. "Me!"

And there it was. As if to confirm it, I shivered, violently from head to toe and my mouth fell as wide as it could and there was no breath to be had.

"Uhn!" Was all that came forth. The I looked back and forth a dozen times between her, the canvas, the scene, her face, her clothing, her posture and it was more than right, it was perfect!

I finally gazed into her eyes again and she saw.

"I was so afraid you wouldn't see it, or be angry with me, I am so happy...you saw it too, I got all goose-bumpy when I knew.

"So did I. Who are you anyway?"

"Your model, if you will have me."

"Do you know what I want?"

"I know exactly what you want. Now?"

I nodded again and watched as she danced and swayed and wafted before me into the vision I had, stopped, turned, made another step, looked all around her. Then lifted her arm, then her chin and twirled once and came to rest in profile. God, how could she know?

I was in a frenzy. I cursed, muttered and moaned and growled and made a tiny mark for her upraised hand, framed with another mark for her delicate foot and ankle, a line here and there for the swirling material of her gown, another line then another and another and a dab of color and more lines.

It took a long time. A very long time. She did not stand static but instead moved and danced and twirled around and around and swirled the gown and lifted the hem slightly and gave coy glances over the shoulder, looks and smiles and then returned to the basic pose. I was entranced and my hands flew as never before. I knew the light was changing, the sun higher now but that worked for me in a strange way and it made her face glow when a sunbeam caressed it; I gasped and tried to capture it all.

Then I let my arms fall to my sides. Finished or not, I was drained. I had nothing more to give to it.

She was instantly by the side of the easel, her face animated with excitement and anticipation. "Oh, please, may I?"

I nodded, tried to catch my breath and wondered why I was breathing so hard, she quickly moved around in front of the canvas.

I heard a gasp. "OH, MY GOD!"

I smiled. "You were right of course; it needed you. Did I get it, you think?"

"Oh, Jesus, yes, I can't take my eyes away. I have to have this! I have to!"

She moved alongside the chair, closer than before and touched me for the first time with a hand on my arm. I looked up and smiled but didn't have an answer. I couldn't part with this drawing. Impossible, not this one.

She saw it in my face. "Oh, but I just have to have this! Please, oh, Please!"

Something began to happen at that moment and we were both startled by it. Somehow her scent filled me. Perfume, perspiration from her dance, tension from my effort, electricity in the air, the scene, the time the place, something came together and the universe took notice.

"You should leave now..." I could not let her see my face.

I felt her lean slightly away from me and take her hand from my arm but she did not step away.

"I should leave now..." Her voice was strained and very quiet.

I took a deep breath and shuddered as her scent filled me again and what had began to rise, rose up and boiled over and became totally uncontrollable.

I stood so quickly the chair tipped and fell. Her eyes were wide as I swept an arm around her waist, grasped the back of her hair in my hand and brought my mouth down harshly on hers.

"You must not do this!" Her words were swallowed by my mouth and lips and I ignored her and forced a leg between hers and up hard against, ran my hand as far up and down her as I could and buried my face in her neck against the pulsing artery and pushed deep into the warm soft flesh of her.

"No! Don't! Please stop!" 

She tried weakly to pull away to push me away. I paid no attention and continued to ravage her fragile body with my mouth and both hands. 

"You can't do this! You have to stop! Please! Let me go!"

I couldn't' stop. If someone had put a bullet in my brain, I would have still kept going. I jerked the top of her flimsy gown down and lowered my face into the rising flesh of a breast until a nipple was exposed and pulled on it hard in my mouth. She writhed in my arms.

"Oh, God! Don't do that!"

She tried again to push me away, to pull away, I just drew her more tightly to me and moved to the other breast and then to her neck and to her mouth and bore her roughly to dirt and needles and rocky ground. I held her down and forced my leg between hers again and up against her.

"No! Don't! Please, stop!" 

She still offered a small resistance and a continual pleading. I paid no heed to any of it. If anything I felt even more lust rising. I knew I was leaving marks on her tender skin, that my beard was scratching her, that my hands were rough and harsh and moving everywhere I could reach.

I pulled my leg out between hers, reached down and began gathering the material of the gown and pulling it up, my hands working her thighs as I did. Then I thrust fingers into the moist warm and explored and touched and rubbed.

"Oh, God, Don't Please Don't" She renewed her struggles, trying to twist and turn away from me.

I reached down and loosened my clothing, rolled over and pushed her legs apart and moved between them.

"Don't do this!"

It felt strange to hear sounds coming from my throat. Grunts, groans, noises that seem alien and animalistic. I was so huge and throbbing and lusting for the sensation of thrusting deep inside her and exploding that nothing else entered my mind.

I know she heard me as I assaulted her breasts and mouth and neck again and again as I pushed higher between her legs, searching by feel and sensation for the penetration I yearned for.

"Uh, ah, aummm...hhh...uh,, ahmmm.." My mouth was on hers when I felt the soft flesh part and the shock of the warmth inside caused a shudder and a groan. I opened my eyes and looked into hers.

They were wide and filled with a thousand things, but I did not see fear. She gasped as I pushed deeper inside her and watched her chin lift and a sound come forth.

"Ahmm....Oh, God...."

I expected everything to explode at any instant and I wanted to be as deep inside her as I could be. I moved on her again.

"Ohhhh...." She moved slightly under me.

I looked into her eyes again, gasping, ragged breath and sounds coming from my throat, pulled back and came all the way inside and hard up against her. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened and she gasped again and turned her head to the side.

I reached up, grasped her chin and turned her face back to mine and lowered my lips to hers and not in a gentle manner. I heard and felt a sound from her throat as it come out and into my mouth and ears.

"Ohhhhh....ahhhhh....."

Then she returned my kiss and I felt a hand on my shoulder and when I moved against her, she lifted and took me.

Still the explosion did not happen and I wanted it to, God how I wanted that release while buried inside her warmth and softness.

But it wouldn't happen. It went on and on as I moved to her, kissed and caressed her and felt her respond in every way. I closed my eyes and we loved as I had never, ever, loved before.

Then the sharp pain of her teeth in the flesh of my neck and her nails in my back, pushed things over the edge and I took her even harder than before. A grunting, lunging thrusting, screaming effort for that ultimate release that I could not deny.

She wrapped her tiny legs and arms around me when I finally drew back, thrust and held and grunted and quivered and convulsed; then again and again and one final time and she screamed and went rigid and shuddered and then we collapsed and fought for breath.

I just lay there, as she did, for several long minutes. I didn't have a thought in my head, I wondered what hers were.

Finally, sensations began to return. I felt pain in my knees and elbows. I could sense her fragile, small body beneath me. I tried to think where I was, who I was...why I was.

It all back, all at once, in a flash of totality that jarred my very soul. "Oh, my God, What have I done?!" I lifted my head and looked down at her still closed eyes. I didn't realize I had given voice to my thoughts. "I am so sorry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine...still can't catch...my breath..." Her voice was soft and quiet.

"My God, I have raped a child! Oh, my God! What have I done?"

She opened her eyes again and looked at me and smiled. There was a hint of mischief under the warmth and open things I saw.

She took a deep breath. "You had consensual, if somewhat reluctant sex with a woman who reached majority almost a year ago."

I wondered, as I looked at her, if she knew how much I wanted to believe her. I didn't. She looked at most fifteen or sixteen. I just sighed. "I wish..."

She smiled and more mischief showed. "I know what you thought; but it is true, you did not have sex with an underage girl and, not even a virgin, although...."

I kept my head up still looking down at her. "No, you look so young. I tried to tell you to leave. I am really sorry, I don't know what happened, I lost control of myself and did something terrible. I am so sorry and so guilty and embarrassed.

Her eyes changed and took on a depth. "Look, I don't want you to feel the guilt for another instant. I grew up here, I was a girl here, I know this place, I love it, this is my special, special place in all places in the world.

"I am attending an art academy in Paris, France. My grandmother passed away, I am here for the funeral. She was an artist too. She inspired to draw when I was young. She financed my school, paid for everything; I had to return because I loved her so much. But I must own that sketch you just did. I have to!"

I just blinked for a moment after hearing what she said. I studied her face again, the fine features the lovely shape and form and one thing...there was not the full cheeks of a child remaining, but the face of a woman, more clear now as I listened to her vocabulary and choice of words. Maybe...just maybe....she spoke truth?

I closed my eyes and scooted down, taking some of my weight off of her and rested my head between her breasts and let the thoughts course.

She stroked my hair. "You almost believe now, don't you?"

"I want to, but...oh, damn, I could not have stopped myself. I wanted you so much. I never felt anything that intense and demanding ever before. So, I am guilty even if you are not as young as I thought, you might have been."

She put both hands on my head and twined her fingers in my hair and pulled my head up and looked hard into my eyes.

"You think I was here by accident? You think I dressed like this, on a chilly day because I am a crazy teen aged girl?" She colored. "You think I just forgot to put underwear on today?"

I was left with an open mouthed stared and blinking eyes.

A funny crooked grin this time. "I think I gotcha!" She giggled and poked at my ribs.