Lifeline, Part 1

What is love? This question haunted me all my life. The irony of fate is that the one woman for whom I felt true love as I understand it was the first one and the last one too. Often enough a woman drove me crazy with "love", but as I could not separate my feelings from her outer appearance, how could I say I loved her in the noble sense of love as I had often heard or read of? Many times I grew infatuated, as I cannot find a better word for it, but it never lasted. The deep care and understanding that is the necessary ingredient of this thing called true love, a feeling that goes past outer attributes and sexual attraction, that makes us still see the young sparkling teenager in the woman we have spent our whole lifespan with, this I have felt only once. We did our firsts together, the first shy holding hands, the first chaste kiss, the first night spent together, yet only when it was almost too late did we get our chance.

She came to our school when I was in the third grade. A little thing, shy, almost scared, but I could also see in her an inner pride, something that held her upright regardless what humiliation she had to endure and God knows, in those first years in school she had more than her share. Her funny accent, her dark complexion and the way she clad were reason enough for my classmates to make fun of her or play unfortunate practical jokes on her. Her only shield against my classmates was a little boy who was in no better position, as he was the "weakling" of the class, unable both physically and mentally to defend himself, thus becoming the natural target of all the mischief the other boys were capable of. Knowing this, his teacher had sat him alone, away from the area were the boys would flock together. When the new one arrived, she was assigned the only spare place, near him and that poor soul, till her arrival the laugh of the class, that was I. Maybe our joint sufferings, as my feeble and mostly futile attempts to play knight for her brought even more hardship upon me without helping her much, were the origin of the bond that however stretched never really gave way. Was it love? How can I answer that? But I know no other way to describe it.

She was different from all the other girls I had ever met before. Girls of my age back then were silly little creatures, either with harsh, boyish manners or were sappy and overly sensitive so that the lightest touch would make them shriek or burst into loud noisy sobs. Not so Celine. Her real name was not Celine but something much longer nobody could spell right or read the way it was supposed, so she offered herself to be called Celine. She had come from the near east with her parents. Celine never shrieked or sobbed. The most I ever saw were a few tears in the corner of her eyes. We took an instant liking to each other, me, the skinny almost skeletal blond Caucasian and her, the dark little beauty, even then with already generous hips and a thin waist. She had a wonderful voice, deep and slightly husky, so different from the shrill girlish sounds the other girls emitted. She even smelled different. Before puberty children rarely suffer from body odors. Of course neither did Celine, yet she spread a faint musky smell, a combination of herbs her mother used to perfume their clothes, perfume and foreign spices typical for her mothers cooking and as Celine often helped her mothers in the kitchen, a trace of that smell persisted on her. Many years later I found that her skin smelled like that too, like the herbs and perfumes her mother had used were specifically chosen to imitate the way she would naturally smell as a woman. God, how I loved that smell! At first she found my frequent sniffing on her irritating, but in time she stopped commenting and accepted it as she accepted many of the peculiarities of my not always straight love life. But that was later.

We were separated in the fifth grade and with the onset of puberty we drifted apart, not sure where these new feelings that played havoc with our bodies would take us. While the laughing stock of the class in the lower grades, her exotic appearance and her still present foreign accent, even thou more apparent in the cadence of her speech than in actual diction, all these made her now doubly attractive to boys. Her rounded hips had elongated, still underlined by her thin waist, her growing breasts showed more and more, so at barely thirteen she could have her pick among half the boys in our school. I saw her frequently talking to boys but even thou I suspected her to have at least one suitor I never actually saw her even touching a boy. Slowly, she grew a reputation of an "untouchable", a girl who never let a boy close to her.

I was sixteen and had volunteered for the schools choir as my voice had stabilized into a quite pleasant bass and I loved music. To my surprise at the first meeting of the new choir I met Celine face to face. After the fourth grade we had hardly exchanged a few words. She stood there with a wonderful broad smile on her face, happy to meet me.

'Hi, George! Hey, you wanna be a Pavarotti too? Great! I was wondering how you do now.'

'Hi Celine. How nice we see more of each other now. Any boyfriend?' this of course was not the question I would normally pose a girl my age, or any age, as I was a shy and frustrated boy who thought little of himself. Not that I hadn't tried, but the reactions of the girls varied from open disregard till polite but still humiliating refusal. With Celine things were different. With her I felt I could talk openly. She was more a friend than a target of my pubertal fantasies.

'Oh c'mon, Georgie, you should know better. My parents would club me to death if I would ever dare to touch a boy.' she had on occasions told me about the very definite ideas her parents had on education, especially of girls.

'So the old story again. Still imprisoned.' I hinted to the fact she had never been allowed to join any of the extra activities, like picnics or excursions. In fact I was surprised she was even allowed to attend the choir.

'Yeah, my parents still think they live in an exclave.'

'How come they let you come here?'

'I lied. I told them I have extra classes.'

And so I got to see her regularly. I walked her home part of the way and we were friends once again. The school rumor of course made big fuss of it. The "untouchable" ice-queen Celine had finally given in and to whom? The slob of his class, slouchy nerd George. Yes, that's what my reputation was. A nerd. The worst insult for teenage boy. Going with Celine had somewhat improved my reputation but had also drawn upon me the envy of some of the guys who had wanted Celine for themselves. I don't think neither Celine nor me saw us as a couple. Not that I didn't want to. My hormones boiled over those days and I would have done the most unattractive girl in school, given the chance. Celine was nothing less than unattractive and often it was painful enough to hide the bulge in my pants from her. We never talked about our relationship so I don't really know what she felt for me, in fact I doubt she knew it herself. She had the most conservative and restrictive education and yet she surprised me by one evening on our way home taking my hand. Her hand felt wonderful, small but not tiny, with smooth skin. I was in heaven.

For weeks we would walk home together hand in hand, talking, joking but never touching the subject of what we felt for each other. Then one day she shocked me. We had just started on our way when she took out of her little purse a pack of cigarettes and a disposable. She offered me o cigarette. All I could do was shake my head speechless. With absolutely natural gestures she took one herself and lit it. I was sweating heavily already and had to turn away so she could not see what went in my crotch. Luckily she had stopped in front of a bench. I dropped on it and she joined me. She was halfway thru her cigarette when I dared even look at her.

'Shocked?' she asked with a wicked smile.

I had to clear my throat.

'Well, not exactly. I'm just surprised you dare, with the way your parents...' I managed to stammer.

She laughed in the middle of her exhale, almost choking.

'God, no. You see, my folks do have very definite opinions about how a young girl should behave, but that has nothing to do with this.' She pointed her cigarette upwards. 'It was in fact my mother who encouraged me to take up smoking.'

'Wow, I managed to say.

'She said I should not show off in public, but I just don't see why. A lot of girls in my class smoke now and in public places too. I'm seventeen for crissake!'

I had calmed down enough to dare take a look at her. She sure was an accomplished smoker already. No tiny puffs or feeble, tentative inhales. She dragged heavily and exhaled long dense streams. I had very little experience with cigarettes and smokers as I came from a smoke free family. Except grandpa who had to quit for health reasons when I was five or six, no one had ever smoked in my family. All I could see was that the cigarette she smoked was somewhat thinner and longer than the ones I saw the Marlboro Man with. And it was white throughout, no cork tipped end. Later on I was to find out it was a VS120.

'Doing this for long?' I asked

'About two years now.'

'And how much do you smoke?' I dared ask with my heartbeat at two hundred.

'Depends, usually about a pack a day.'

'And do you like it?'

'God, yes. It sure is fun. Why don't you try it too?'

'I never thought of it. Anyway I don't think I want to.'

'Oh c'mon. Here.' She offered me the pack. I shook my head. My throat felt like sandpaper.

She had crushed her cigarette with the heel of her slipper before. Now she took another cigarette. After the first puff to get it started, she took an endless drag, inhaled and then out of the blue she pressed her lips on mine and tried to blow smoke into my mouth. She failed as I wasn't repaired for this, but suddenly we found ourselves engaged in a fierce if clumsy French kiss. It was the first for me and I'm sure it was her first two. It seemed to last forever. We both had to wipe our mouth afterwards, inexperienced as we were. For a while she just smoked avidly on her cigarette. Then she turned her head, looked into my eyes and said.

'This won't do, you know. My folks would kill me. And I don't want it either. Call me a fool, but I dream of the white knight and I know you can't be the one.'

My hopes that had skyrocketed a minute fell apart. From that day on we never walked together again. I left the choir shortly after as I had somehow lost interest. On and off I would accidentally meet Celine but except a short greeting we never spoke to each other again.

One day I saw her on the same bench we had kissed. She was sitting there with another guy. He was a big broad-shouldered sportsman type and both were smoking. It took me weeks to overcome the crushing pain that had stabbed thru my bowels. All thru the rest of the term I saw her talking to guys. I was mad with jealousy but what could I do? In the end I avoided even meeting her and I'm sure she noticed it. One day she waylaid me.

'Look, Goergie. I'm sorry you took it the wrong way. We were just friends and I hoped you would understand. I cannot feel that way for you. You mean immensely to me, but I want you as a friend.'

I didn't hear her out. At seventeen there is only black and white. Friend or foe. I shook my head and deserted without a word. I thought I heard a sob when I left but I couldn't be sure. From then on I would feel her sad look upon me whenever our paths crossed but I always turned away.

We were out of school before we even noticed. I did not feel like going to the ball. I was sure I would meet a flashy gleaming Celine in the company of one of the bright young men. It would have crushed my already broken heart to pieces. So I stayed home, sulking and kind of enjoying the bitter sweet pain. My suffering did in a twisted way make me feel superior to my mates who had already used up a number of girlfriends.

I watched the tenth rebroadcast of Casablanca on TV when the doorbell rang. It was past ten and my parents were away for the weekend, maybe in the futile hope I would loose my virginity that night, as it was tradition among the graduating. And it turned out they were right after all but in a way I could have never imagined.

Celine stood there in the door. Her face was in the dark till she stepped in. She held a burning cigarette in her hand and she was dressed like most of the time in jeans and a blouse. I had never seen her wear a t-shirt or a top. However hot it was, she always wore long sleeves and this time was no exception. Without a word she clang to my neck and started to sob.

'Forgive me, Georgie. I was such a fool.'

She started to cover my face with tiny smoke scented kisses. My chest all but flowed over with a hot feeling of incredible happiness. She was back and she loved me! I squeezed her to my chest. Her firm breasts felt so good and all of her was soft and yet firm, her thighs against mine, her lips that had finally found mine, I was beyond happiness.

Finally we disentangled. She looked at her burnt down cigarette, thru it out on the sidewalk thru the still opened door and then slammed the door shut.

'Take me to your bedroom.'

I had no power to speak, so I just took her hand and with week knees I led her to my room. She undressed in a hurry and so did I. A streak of jealousy stabbed my heart as it was my impression she had done this many times. The sight of her magnificent breasts held tight by a simple bra drove away my dark thoughts and I ripped of my shirt and the shorts. My dick stood out red and hard. She turned her back on me to give me the opportunity to unclip her bra. Then she turend again and our eyes locked while she got rid of her panties.

An immense wave of relief flowed over me as I found her to be still virgin. I knew it was stupid but the old male pride of being the first one took hold of me. We struggled hard and it took a while till we managed to find our rhythm but in the end we made love and it was over way too soon. As we lay there recovering, clinging to each other on the narrow cot of my bed, she lit a cigarette again. Like the first time she had smoked in front of me, she offered me but I declined. Finally I decided to please her and took a drag of hers. I didn't inhale but nevertheless it pleased her. Seeing her naked on my bed smoking soon aroused me again and I hardly gave her time to smoke up her cigarette till I started to kiss and caress her. This time we were a lot better at it and we drew immense pleasure out if it.

She stayed the whole night and with every round she grew bolder and more eager. We didn't leave out much and in the morning I could hardly stand of fatigue. She on the other hand was still fresh like a flower when she left.

When I woke up in the afternoon, sore between my legs and hungry like a wolf, I found a sheet of paper near my bed.

'Dear Georgie,

I know you will never forgive me for what I have done, but you must understand there was no other way for me. Maybe I was selfish but if I hadn't come to you I would have regretted it all my life.

Tomorrow I will be married. He is a cousin of mine and I hope he will be a good husband once he will forgive me for not being a virgin. As is custom among my people, we were engaged as children and while he lived in the Lebanon till recently I hoped to be spared. Now he has emigrated here with his folks and I must marry him. You may be surprised that I don't oppose my parents but there are reasons for it. First I couldn't bring this kind of disgrace upon them. It would totally ruin them. It could kill my mother, who suffers from a heart condition and without her father would be doomed too. You, who have grown up here may not understand but with my folks family is more important than love and happiness. Second, even if I would have decided to make something foolish and somehow manage to stay with you, I couldn't have worked out. Too different are our backgrounds. I don't think we could have made it.

I'm terribly sorry, my Love.

Keep one thing in your heart. I will always love you and you only. I gave you all that was possible.

Good Bye'

I read her letter over and over again till I couldn�t read anymore because of my tears. I forgot about my hunger and my parents found me there, prostrated and oblivious to all around me.

The next morning, after a sleepless night, I jumped into my jeans and without even washing I ran to her house. It was empty. She was gone and a neighbor told me they had moved out, destination unknown.

Part 2

The summer was wasted on me. If my parents hadn't been so understanding I don't know what would have become of me. They didn't ask any questions but they took care I didn't fall down completely. I had always been skinny but in fall, when I went to a prep school, my bones shimmered thru my skin. I had grown a wild beard and looked like an escaped convict. To my surprise I found myself in the focus of the attention of the female part of the students. Even some boys took an instant sympathy to me and those two years have been the best of maybe my whole life. I left the school with a reputation of an expert lover and a good pal too, the perfect party animal. What had isolated me before, my quick whit when it came to learning, now drew admiration upon me and from a nerd I turned into a sort of universal genius, the guy everybody would ask about anything. Not that it reflected in my grades, I was just average, but it enabled me to take studying lightly. Of course my one time dream of graduating at MIT was out of reach but little did I care. Deep down I still mourned for Celine, but I did my best not to let it bring me down.

At home again, I decided to drop college and instead fulfill my dad's dream and start working in his shop. He owned an electronics store and had successfully fought attempts of big chains to drive him out of business. Whatever new trend seemed to announce itself he was the first to smell it and in his store people could admire all the new gadgets from Japan or home long before TV commercials made them widely known. Whether it was the Gameboy or the Playstation or any other new contraption, he had it.

I was determined to learn his way of thinking like the average customer, to foresee what would be a success and what not. As my father paid me quite good, I was able to afford an apartment and I lived on my own. It wasn't hard for me to find a date, now that I had gained a lot of chuzpe. Two years of prep school had taught me that the key to a successful love life aren't broad shoulders or muscles but the right attitude.

I met Laura at my favorite watering hole, a nice place outside town with pool tables and the odd band on their way thru, sometimes good and sometimes bad. As people there hardly ever listened to the music it didn't matter anyway.

My nerd times being long gone, I hung around with one or another of my former school mates and we had a good time. Laura came with another group, girls and guys, and at first I thought they were all pairs but more and more often our eyes crossed. Except that she alone of the girls smoked and constantly too, she wasn't very remarkable. A bit small and stubby but in a graceful way, with a nice face, she looked interesting enough to raise my attention. After a couple of glances, she started to smile at me. If she hadn't smoked, I wouldn't have noticed her, but as she did have a very sexy way of smoking, I made up my mind to give it a try.

After a year we were still together, still living in separate apartments but spending a lot of time together, mostly in bed. She wasn't exactly my dream of a woman but it was nice to be with her. I loved to hold her naked in my arms and caress her ample forms. She was young and her flesh firm and inviting. If not happy then I was at least satisfied and had a quiet life. We did quarrel sometimes on trivial things but as we always ended in bed afterwards, it didn't really matter.

One Saturday night, I was expecting Laura to drop by so we would go out with no predetermined destination, the bell rang. I opened the door and it hit me like a hammer. Celine stood there with a small bag in her hand and a bruised face. Like the last time I had seen her, she fell into my arms, only this time she started to sob instantly. After a while she calmed down a little and I took her bag and made her sit on the coach.

'Goerge, can I stay here for a while?'

I had half expected her question from the way she looked.

'Who did this to you?' I asked her, sure of the answer,

'Aydan, my husband.' She started to sob again. I took her in my arms and felt her tears wetting my shoulder. I stroked her back gently and couldn't but notice how skinny she had become.

'Please can I stay here for a while? I have no place to go and no money.'

My answer came quite naturally. I had forgotten Laura completely.

'Sure, you can stay as long as you want. Can I offer you something?'

'No, I don't need anything, except maybe, you wouldn't have a cigarette?'

She knew me as a non-smoker. In fact in my last year in prep school I had turned into a sort of social smoker. I had found that I could smoke an occasional cigarette without turning green. After a couple of beers it came quite naturally and I also enjoyed the cigarette after but I rarely smoked on a normal day. This of course meant that I had cigarettes handy, also because Laura often ran out of cigarettes when she stayed over the night. In my drawer I always had a pack or two of Marlboro Lights 100, the brand of Laura. I took an almost full pack out of the drawer and gave it to Celine. With shaking hands she took one out and lit it. After a couple of deep hits, combined inhales and exhales, she coughed slightly and lent back with a sigh.

'Thank you so much. You saved my life. That bastard forbade me smoking on the very first day. I was stupid enough to give in at first. When things started to turn bad, I sometimes sneaked in a cigarette or two when he was away but he caught me one day and slapped my face for it.'

I was shocked. Of course I had at first been mad at her and had cursed her marriage and all that, but now I felt guilty. I realized how much I still loved her and felt enormously sorry for her. I laid my arm around her and she cuddled into my side and smoked in silence. Suddenly the noise of a key in the lock of the door made us both startle. Celine gave me an inquisitive look but I had no time to give her an explanation. Laura had a key to my apartment and she had come to take me out.

'Hi, G.' as much as I hated it, she insisted on calling me G.

'Hey you've got company!' then she realized what she saw. Without a word, she hurled the key in one corner, turned around and ran straight out of my life never to show up again. Celine gave me a very sad and guilty look, but I tried to calm her down. Even if she had been the reason for it, I wasn't very sad of Laura's sudden departure. Lately our relationship had not worked very well. As sweet as she had been in the beginning, in time Laura had shown a bad temper more often and I wasn't always comfortable with her views on certain topics. I told Celine all this and she understood.

I managed to persuade Celine to eat something and then, while she smoked up what was left of the pack of cigarettes, she told me about her marriage or at least as much as she was repaired to. From the first day he turned out to be a real brute of a man. I learned that she had hoped her cousin, the son of her father's sister, would have the same kind and friendly nature like her father. To my surprise she told me that unlike the whole school had assumed it wasn't her father that had held her tight but her mother. The very first night with her husband had shattered all her hopes for a happy life. Aydan, her husband, had no sensibility at all and was full of contempt for the whole womanhood. He treated her like a slave to be at his disposition. His lovemaking was not much more then an ongoing rape. She had tried to make him change his attitude but in vain. Only because of her mother did she stay with him. Then she found herself to be pregnant. Naturally she assumed this would soften him up but the contrary was the case. He was sure of her now and more than once did he hit her, not bad at first but the day came when she cooked a dish he didn't like. That night he beat her so bad she miscarried. That was the beginning of the end. Even thou Aydan was responsible for it, he blamed Celine and mistreated her more often, till the day came she could take no more and fled.

'Oh God, my throat hurts from all the talk and smoke.' she said finally. �I�m afraid I smoked up all your cigarettes.'

'Don't worry about that. I'll go get some more. Why don't you take a bath till I'm back?'

'That would be wonderful. Can you imagine that idiot forbade me to use the tub? He said a shower once a week is all a I need! And the clothes he bought me! All cheap plastic stuff...'

I asked her if I should buy her the VS120 she used to smoke in high school but she said she'd rather have some Reds 100. That was the brand her husband had smoked and the ones she had been snatching from him behind his back. Her hate for him did not extend to them.

When I came back with two cartons of Reds Super Long, I heard her singing in the bath. I changed the bedclothes and arranged the coach for me. She came out of the bath, her face hot and gleaming. The bruises she bore looked even worse now but still underneath the old Celine from our teenage years shone thru. She had lost the slight slouch and the attitude of a hunted deer from before. Only her eyes still showed the ordeal she had been thru.

'I don't know how to thank you, my dear little Georgie. For the first time in two years I'm beginning to feel human again.' she said after giving me peck on my cheek. Her musky smell overwhelmed me. I was far from arousal as the horror she had gone thru forbade that. Yet it was Celine, my Celine, and for the first time I got a faint notion of what the bond between as that would hold all our lives.

'You know you can ask me anything anytime, Celine. You are an "old friend". You know, like in "Noble House".'

I alluded to a novel we both had immensely enjoyed years before, where the author explained the meaning of old friends in the Chinese sense of the word. She laughed heartily and gave me another peck and a sisterly hug. A sweet musky smell rose from under my old bathrobe she had taken on after her bath. No other woman I had met had smelt like Celine. It was the smell of my childhood yet more intense and womanly.

'What would I do without you? Hey, you've bought quite a supply here. God old Georgie. I really am abusing your hospitality.' and after a pause she made to light up:� 'And you have to sleep on the couch. Why don't I sleep here?'

'Mainly because I don't want to wake you up when I go to work.'

'I really don't deserve this.' She sighed deeply and took a long hit on her cigarette, holding the smoke down interminably. When she finally exhaled, there was no visible smoke on her breath, like her body had absorbed it all. I was tempted to kiss her hard on her lips, but I knew that if there was the slightest chance I was to achieve anything I would need all the patience I could bring up.

She rose and stretched with a yarn.

'This will be the first night in two years I won't have to fear his foul breath and his hard stick rasping in me like sandpaper.'

She wiped away a single tear from the corner of her eye.

I woke up early even thou I still had two hours till my father needed me at the shop. After a slice of bread with a bit of cheese and a cup of instant coffee, my usual morning routine, I cleaned up and went to see after Celine. I hadn't heard anything thru the night, but as I have a very sound sleep, that didn't mean much. On my toes I carefully opened the door to the bedroom. It smelt of stale smoke and I saw four or five buts in the ashtray near the bed. Obviously she had had hard night. She turned around and I could see dark shadows under her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes. With a slurred voice she said:

'Good Morning, Georgie.' she slapped her mouth in mock embarrassment.

'I really should be ashamed of me. Look what I did to your neat little apartment! It will take weeks till the smell is gone.' then, more seriously, she added:

'I fear it will take some time till I'll be able to sleep soundly like before. I wake up in the middle of the night because I dream he reaches for me. I'm so scared it takes a cigarette or two to steady me down again. Then I slowly drift away and again the nightmare comes back.'

She looked deeply into my eyes and asked:

'Do you mind if I ask you a favor? I know I need to clean up and brush my teeth, but please could you come over and hold me for a while?'

Her words wormed my heart. That after what she had been thru she still felt like being touched by any man was more than I had hoped. I did not expect anything to come out of this but it was a good sign at least. She lifted the blanket and carefully I slid down into the bed beside her. The odors of her body were overwhelming. The musky perfume of her skin was tenfold stronger now and mixed with the stale smoke around her and the tarry residues on her breath. Involuntarily my little friend showed flag. Celine started to cover my face with little kisses.

'God, you smell so fresh and clean! Can you hold your breath for a while till I'm finished?'

As an answer I pressed my lips on hers. She was reluctant at first but than she gave way and we kissed softly and gently with subdued passion.

She tugged at my shorts and soon we were engaged in a slow and tender embrace. I felt her slowly get moist, than wet and what had started as a careful explorative attempt now turned into a passionate embrace. I felt how her arousal slowly built up till her moans grew louder and culminated in a series of little shrieks. Soon after I felt my own climax setting in and I withdrew, afraid not to leave her pregnant.

Realizing what I had done she gave another soft kiss, her lips parted just a little so that the tips of our tongues could touch.

'Why didn't we give it a try when we had the chance to? I should have been more selfish. It's so heavenly good with you!' then she started to sob softly. I rocked her gently till she calmed down a bit and her shoulders stopped shaking. I had no answers for her.

The next night and the nights to come we spent together in my bed. I never pressed myself on her and there were nights I would just hold her in my arms and in others we would make love. We never reached the intensity of our first night but she bloomed up under my careful lead. In the two years in prep school I had time to learn from many girls. None of them had meant even a fraction of what Celine meant to me but at least I had learned a lot about feminine sexuality.

After two weeks we had spent like that, I was starting to hope this could be the beginning of something. Living together with Celine turned out to be just what I had missed. Except for her excessive smoking that had increased from one carton in the first week to twice as much in the second with a couple of cigarettes during the night and two or three in bed before she fully opened her eyes, she was the perfect companion. She was a very good cook and even thou I had myself learned to cover my modest needs and could get together a quite satisfactory meal any time, her expertise in using all sorts of exotic seasonings dwarfed my pride in my modest capacities. Her presence filled me with joy and I said to myself if I could bring her to moderate her smoking a little there was nothing more I could hope for in my life. I loved to watch her smoke and I loved the way it made her smell and how her lips tasted from it, but I feared a little for her health.

My timid hopes were shattered one evening when she said she had to talk to me.

'Look Georgie,' she began and her tone didn't sound of good news. 'We have gone too far already. I can feel you grow hopes I cannot fulfill. I have abused your good will and your pocket too. Yesterday I have talked to an aunt of mine and she's prepared to help me. She also told me that my mother is not ill at all. My aunt, her sister, told me my mother had been blackmailing the whole family even as a kid with faked heart conditions and still does that with my poor father, but she is in truth strong as an ox.'

She dragged furiously on her cigarette and went on.

'So my aunt wants to make up for what my own parents didn't do. She will pay for my college. You see Georgie, I'm not prepared to become a housewife. I want to know what's in me and be my own master.'

As she saw the darkness descend on my face, her eyes turned wet.

'Poor little Georgie.' she said with a voice hoarse from emotion and excessive smoking as she had dragged continuously on one cigarette after the other without a breath of clean air. 'I know you cannot forgive me.� After all you did for me I'm disappointing you again. But please understand, I can't be for you what you want me to. I've been oppressed all my life. Now finally I've got the chance to stand on my own feet. I won't ever forget what you did for me, but there's a new life out there that's waiting for me. Good Bye'

After a last long kiss, she took the bag she had already packed and went.

My father noticed that I had changed but like the first time instead of trying to make me talk when I wouldn't, he did the only thing he hoped would help me. One night after he had closed the shop he took me to his office.

'Listen son, I can see you'll never be a passionate shop owner like I am. I have contemplated what I'm going to tell you now for quite a while but I wasn't sure it will be the right thing till recently.� Now that I see the future belongs to things I do not understand, I'm forced to admit my time is over. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. I have on offer to sell out to a big chain of retail stores. As much as I hate those kind of supermarket like stores with cheap merchandise and underpaid and under qualified employees, I realize the future belongs to them.'

In my pain the full extent of his words took some time to travel from my ears to my brain, but slowly I began to realize where he drove at.

'They pay me more than enough to allow for a retirement in Florida for us and college for you. What do you think, do you want to give it another try?'

I hadn't thought of it, not lately anyway, but now I began to wake up. Prep school had helped me overcome that first wound Celine had inflicted on my soul. The same trick could work again.

Of course I had to accept one of the minor colleges, in the wild as I called it, somewhere in the Midwest. But, as my father used to say, some of the best heads in new technologies had emerged from these obscure colleges. MIT or UCLA may have the best reputation but many of the founders of Fairchild, Intel and others had come from the Midwest. I helped my parents move to Florida and emptied my own apartment. With two bags and a backpack I left my little hometown in Maine never to return.

Part 3

Another two years were to pass till I met Celine again. I had been invited by friends of friends to spend a weekend on the campus of another college not far away. As the college I attended had a more technical background, we were a little short on girls. I wasn't very keen on some sentimental entanglements but nature called for its rights nonetheless so I was quite frustrated. The college we were to visit had specialized more in literature and social sciences so they had a lot of chicks in the yard, as we used to say.

Well, I could not say we were overrun by a hoard of hot chicks screaming for a lay. The "insider", a friend of a friend had gone out and finally a mate of him directed us to the local watering hole, the place most students would hang out in the summer. The terrace of the place was crowded with students of both sexes and finally the three of us managed to find a table of six. It was occupied already with three girls. Two were the average blonde and slim all American girls and one was a cute if a little plump read head. More or less successful we attracted them into the usual conversation between students with the typical questions of "where do you come from" and �what courses do you follow" and so on. I wound up engaged in a quite promising eye to eye contact with the chubby redhead. Then, while I deliberately looked aside lest it became awkward, I spotted a mop of dark curly hair that looked faintly familiar. I got up under the pretense of going to the restroom and on my way back I saw a profile that I knew. Celine! She was the last person I had expected to find here. The couple that had been her company at the table rose to leave so I changed my direction and went to meet her. A storm of conflicting emotions raced over my soul. Ever since I had left home I had been determined to try and burry all my feelings for her. I had given up all hope to ever see her again and knew that I should break the bond between us for good. As long as I knew her far away it had been quite easy. Yet stumbling upon her like that shattered all the barriers I had built around my love for her, as I knew no better word to describe what I felt for her.

She did not notice my approach as she looked the other way. I could see that she bore a kind of serenity on her face I had never seen before. She had grown fuller both in face and body and it suited her well. It was the picture of a perfectly happy person. I felt my bowels tie up into a knot. It seemed she had been right in leaving me.

When she finally saw me standing in front of her, a series of emotions chased each other over her face. True joy, then guilt and again a sort of distant contempt. She rose a little unsteady and gave me a rather shy hug. No kiss, not even a peck.

'Good Lord, Georgie, what on earth are you doing here?' an almost unnoticeable slur accompanied her words, like she was a little tipsy. I didn't give it much attention. On the table was only a half empty bottle of Coke.

'Hi Celine! I came over from Shockley for the weekend.' I tried to sound neutral but I felt more then I heard a slight tremor in my voice.

'What a nice coincidence! So you decided to go for the master finally. I always thought you were too smart for a simple storekeeper.'

'Truth is, my father thought I was too dumb to take over the shop. So he sold it and gave me the money to try and make something out of me.'

'A sensible man. How is he? And your mom?'

'They retired to Florida.' I could not keep a slight melancholy out of my voice. The more I listened to her I sensed something peculiar. Unlike the old Celine, who had always spoken fast, she had acquired a strange melody in her speech, almost like she was in slow motion. Then she lifted her left hand she had been hiding somehow from my view and what she held between her fingers really shocked me.

'C�mon Celine, you can't be serious!' I exclaimed a bit angry. 'That you smoked two packs a day was bad enough, but for crissake! Cigars!' for what she held looked like a medium sized brown cigar to me.

She laughed from all her heart.

'Silly old Georgie! You are quite square, you know?' She took a disposable from a pocket of her skirt and in the big flame of the lighter which she had turned up to maximum, she started to relight the extinct half of her cigar. After a couple of fierce puffs to make it glow uniformly thru which she rotated it back and force, showing quite an expertise, proof she had done this many times before, she took a long hit and inhaled with expanding chest. Then she held her breath for an eternity, till she exhaled a long double stream thru her nose, followed by a small cloud from her lips. I was really shocked but to my surprise I found myself aroused too. I had never before seen a young girl smoke a cigar like that. A grin like of a satisfied cat settled on her face and it was like I could hear her purr.

'What on earth...?' I started to ask, but she interrupted me.

'Hey, don't play Quaker. What's so strange about this? A lot of girls here have taken to cigars. Besides, this here' she said while pointing the cigar up which she held between thumb and index, 'isn't really a cigar.' and to tell the truth, the smoke I smelled lacked the harshness of cigars as I knew them. It was kind of sweetish and bore a mixture of different flavors.

'So what is it then?' I asked, afraid of what would be the answer, which in fact was even worse than I feared.

'Now don't look so horrified. These wonderful pleasure sticks are from my boyfriend.' A sharp pain stabbed my stomach. Whatever faint hopes I may have had lay crushed under the weight of this one word. Boyfriend! But then what did I expect? Her words of farewell two years earlier had more or less implied that.

'His family owns a little tobacco factory down in Virginia. Apart from the usual cheap stogies on a secret line the make some really special stuff.' she giggled at my puzzled expression. In fact she giggled and laughed a lot more than I had ever seen her do before.

'OK, I'll tell you all, don't worry. I doubt that the Narco guys would agree, but they are quite harmless. The worst ingredient is tobacco. You can say they are sort of blunts.' There! Just like I had feared! 'They have of course some weed in them but not overly much. Let me see, what else? Yeah, clove, to make the smoke go down smoothly and improve the taste and then some spices like in pipe tobacco. In fact I guess it really is pipe tobacco if I remember it well. And boy, these things make me feel so damn good! I can't stop lighting them up! Thanks to my boyfriend I don't have to worry about how to replenish my supply. He gets tons of them from home. Hey, wanna have try?'

I refused shaking my head almost indignantly. I trembled with repulsion but with arousal too. It virtually tore me apart.

'Tell me, do you have any plans for now?' she asked with an inviting smile. She had talked about her boyfriend all the time. Was this an offer? Or did she want to torment me further by introducing me to him? Not hoping for the former but fearing the latter, I was on the verge of finding an excuse but she interrupted my racing thoughts.

'Don't worry about Diego. He's away. I thought we might remember old times in a more comfortable surrounding.'

'Well, that sounds nice.' I managed to press out. My answer triggered an almost wicked smile on her face.

She led me to the apartment where she lived and by what I could see, her boyfriend lived there too. But as she had told me he was somewhere else it was OK so far. She invited me to the couch and gave me a beer. As far as I could tell she still abstained from alcohol like she had all her life. She lit another of her blunts, only this one seemed of a slightly different make as it smelled sweeter.

'You should try one of these, you know.' she said, talking the smoke into my face. 'These are stronger and they have quite some effect. You can't imagine how hot you can get after one of these. C'mon, don't be spoilsport! Diego and I have quite an open kind of relation. We often do some wild parties and it turns us on even more if we do it with others before we do it together. He is away with another girl. It's so good you dropped out of the sky. Now I won't waste another night. Here take a hit. You'll have a hard on in no time.'

Her words made me want to throw up. What had become of my beloved little Celine? I may have accepted that she had found someone she really loved and cared for, but this was too wild. Not that I'm really square or intolerant, but regarding my own life I had some rules. I wanted to get out and flee from her, hide somewhere and weep all night, yet I couldn't. Celine seemed to sink deeper into her drug induced reverie. Oblivious to my inner turmoil she poured some more oil into the fire.

'You know, this dynamite here is what Diego used to get at me.' an almost crazy laugh followed. 'I didn't even know him when at a party he talked me into trying one of these. The clever son of gun led me out to the back porch pretending he wanted to spare me from the embarrassment if I should grow sick. God, I took one hit and I was horny like hell. We fucked right there like rabbits. It was like one huge orgasm lasting the whole night. I couldn't walk any more when he was thru with me. Now I can have this every day. He gave me the other ones, the mild ones to make me feel just good whenever I want.' she kept on dragging fiercely on the blunt and then she said with determination:

'Now c'mon, how horny must I get? Come over and give it to me hard!'

She dragged once again and while holding the smoke she leant over and pressing her lips against mine, she blew the smoke into my mouth. She had taken me by surprise, and I involuntarily inhaled some of the smoke. From then on my perception blurred. The stuff was strong like hell. I wondered briefly how she was able to smoke it like that without any visible effect. The following hour went down in a haze. I made love to her all right but in a dream like state. I felt nothing. When the effect of the stuff wore off and I regained my senses, I ran to the bathroom and threw up. She seemed somehow to regain part of her true self as when she saw what happened to me, she burst into tears. I left her with the bitter satisfaction that at least this time it wasn't me who had the worst end. But I was cheating on me. If it hadn't been for Lavinia, who knows...

Two month later I was in danger of ruining my chance to get a degree, when Lavinia entered my life and in a way saved me. As often lately, I sat in the sun in one of the alleys of the campus, just staring in the air without even a conscious thought, just filled with pain and bitterness. For the thousandth time I wondered if I shouldn't have fought for Celine when it was still time. Now her greed to make up for the lost years had driven her into the arms of a goddamn drug dealer, and who knows what was to become of her. I should have dragged her out of there and tried to sober her up, but I was too weak for that and I feared she might not understand, so I would loose her anyway. Besides, I wasn't sure I still wanted that strange creature that had once been my Celine.

'Hi, what a coincidence! Mind if I sit here and have smoke?'

I jolted. But of course it wasn't Celine. It was the last person I would have expected to see again. The chubby little redhead! She didn't wait for me to answer, but sat down and took out a pack of MLs 100. I hadn't smoked much since I had entered college. Now I somehow felt like joining in with this little cutie, although, little wasn't exactly the right word for her.

'Sorry, Miss, err, but would you mind if I borrowed a cigarette from you? I forgot to buy some this morning and now I'm kinda like a fish on the dry.'

'It�s Lavinia. Hi. Sure, here, you can have as many as you want. We smokers have to stick together, with the campaigns against us coming up.'

'Hi. George.� We shook hands. �Thanks a lot. You saved my life.' I said grinning, pleased of her attitude.

Whether Celine's first smoky kiss had triggered this or it went deeper, I didn't know, but girls that smoked had always touched a cord in me. She giggled at my answer and smoked her cigarette with obvious pleasure. Except she held down the smoke for a couple of seconds each time she inhaled there wasn't anything remarkable in her smoking style. But it didn't really matter. I had no intention of any kind, too fresh was the memory of that horrid experience with Celine and her drugs. It was just pleasant to sit there and talk to a nice girl. Her voice had a slightly mannered undertoen as if she tried to deliberately talk in a higher pitch than was her natural one, but apart from that she had such an unspoiled way it was very refreshing to listen to her conversation. Somehow it came naturally that we went to lunch together. I found out she recently decided to finish her studies here.

From that day on we spent most of our spare time together and it didn't take long till we shared an apartment. Even if sleeping with her lacked the explosive intensity of my encounters with Celine, she turned out to be quite a good companion in any way. With all her roundness, just like my once girlfriend Laura, I enjoyed just holding her in my arms at night, or watching TV cuddled into each other. In one word she was cuddly. She was a light smoker and insisted we never smoked inside. We, as I had somehow become a regular smoker too. It was like smoking, along with our mutual attraction, constituted a sort of bond between us. I should have known better, but I had hopes to have found the kind of good reliable partnership my parents had. I couldn't have been more wrong. The quiet joy of having someone to spend the evenings with slowly turned into boredom. Too late I found that there wasn't much beyond the surface. It was impossible to talk to her about more serious matters than campus gossip or mundane affairs. She seemed totally oblivious of what happened in the world and not even interested in learning about it. What a difference to Celine, or at least the one she had been a while ago.

Yet, even thou it was I who had grown more and more disappointed, Lavinia was the one to initiate a development that lead to our separation. Maybe I should have done the final step earlier, but I feared to hurt her and it was also a practical arrangement. When she began to spend an evening on and off with other girls, excluding me from their circle, I wasn't truly disappointed as it gave me the opportunity to renew friendships with other guys I had neglected because of her. As her absences grew more frequent and longer too, I couldn't but grow suspicious. One night, when she was out with friends again, I didn't go to sleep as usual. When she finally tiptoed her way in at three in the morning, I turned up the light. What I saw in her face, confirmed my vague suspicion. She had been with another guy. She didn't deny it, maybe glad she didn't have to hide any more. I felt a lot more anger than sadness or pain. Whatever I had been feeling for her, love wasn't the name for it.

To my surprise, she didn't understand the reason for my anger. Instead she reproached me that I hadn't "loved" her as much as I had in the beginning. This enraged me even more and to my own dismay I used some harsh words.

'How long?'

'Oh, eh, since Thanksgiving'

Fuck! Five weeks!' I was really mad now.

'Listen you bitch! I have trusted you and even thou we both heard about the dangers of unprotected sex, we did not spoil our fun because of that. But now you let another guy stick his dirty rod into your treacherous pussy. How am I to know if you haven't caught up something from him and infected me too?'

I had every right o be mad as she hadn't stopped making love to me and perversely with more passion lately.

'But I thought only gays are in danger!' she tried to defend herself.

'Can somebody be that dumb? Haven't I told you it has nothing to do with homosexuality? The only reason it spread among them first was that they change partners more often than straights. But there have been a lot of new cases among junkies, and wives of bisexual men too. Even if you know the guy well, you can't be sure he hasn't caught it up from some other girl!'

I was trembling with rage and I felt a pervert desire to hit her. That she cheated on me, fine, but that she still defended herself was almost unbearable.

What came next really kicked the bottom out.

'Please Goerge, can't you forgive me? I�m so sorry! I have been very stupid. Please, can�t we give it another try? I'll be a good girl, promise! I'll do anything you want me to! Please?'

It made no sense to talk to her any more. If she believed I could forgive her in any way, she had to be crazy. I left the apartment slamming the door. The next morning I told her I had given the owner notice for the end of the month. If she wanted to stay it was up to her to renew the lease. I collected my belongings and found a spare cot in the dorm with one of my friends who couldn't afford an off campus apartment.

Part 4

Three years and couple of brief affairs with a number of women later, I was on my way home from Europe, where I had been at the local headquarter of the company I worked for. With the fall of the iron curtain, activities in Europe were in constant change and they needed even rookies like me to help out sometimes. I had done well and my boss granted me a two days of paid vacation extra which I planned to spend in New York.

I had never been to Big Apple before and I wanted to know what it was all about. I took a room at the Norfolk Hotel in Manhattan, not far from Times Square. After a difficult night because of the jet lag, hunger drove me out of the hotel bed. I tried to find an open diner, first on the street behind the hotel, but the only one open looked so shabby that I turned around and walked down the block towards Time Square. At every corner an Afro stood rattling a cup with some coins in it. I dropped some change in each, as some of them looked quite able to use force if I ignored them. Maybe New Yorkers knew how to deal with them, but I, having lived most of my life in smaller towns that were comparatively "clean", preferred to give in. It's the cowards that survive, as my grandpa used to say.

In front of Sbarro's, wich wouldn't open for another hour, I saw a woman in a cheap gray coat and disheveled and dirty hair. She swayed lightly and the moment I dropped my half smoked cigarette as it didn't taste well in the damp fumes of the morning air, she launched in a jump or more like a fall my way and collected the stub before I was able to crush it under my heel. I felt ashamed and even thou I thought that a cigarette was about the last thing that the poor soul needed, I reached into my pocket to take out the pack of cigarettes and give it to her. As she dragged on that stub like it contained the last drop of oxygen of a diving suit one hundred feet under the sea, something in her struck me as familiar. She blew out a huge cloud of smoke and even thou a wet cough shook her, she took another direct inhale which against reason seemed to calm down her cough.

I took the pack of cigarettes, which was almost full and extended it for her to take it. She raised her head and looked at me. We were both struck by instant recognition. All she could whisper was "Georgieee" before she collapsed into my arms. She was light like a feather. Would she have been a stranger, her smell would have filled me with repulsion and I would have probably laid her down on the sidewalk and called emergency. But it was Celine and she had sunken deeper than I would have thought it possible. Luckily she recovered a little and I thought that the best thing would be to smuggle her up in my hotel room. An old friend of my father's worked in a hospital in Manhattan, so I called him up on my cell phone. I was lucky. He was off duty and would be there in half an hour. I took Celine by the waist and step by step we managed to reach the side entrance of the Norfolk. A larger bill into the hands of the porter solved the problem how to get past the receptionist. We took the service elevator and reached my room without further incidents.

Dr. Lukas, my father's friend, came over. He looked at Celine and then said I should get her a Coke. Among other things she certainly was dehydrated, but Dr. Lukas, who insisted we call him Paul, thought that a Coke or two would stabilize her enough so she could take a bath. He did not fear an immediate collapse for her. He asked when the last time when she had eaten something had been, but he couldn't get a coherent answer from her. All she did was repeating "Georgiee, Georgieee" all over again. I got the Cokes. In tone with the general dilapidated state of the hotel, the cooling of the machine was broken so the Cokes I got weren't chilled. She drank both bottles and it seemed to do her good. The first words she spoke apart from my name were the plea for a cigarette. I looked at Paul, but he shrugged.

'Without some blood tests I can't say much, but I doubt Nicotine is her biggest problem. Her heart sounds reasonably good. How old is she?'

'Same as me, twenty-four.'

'Good Lord. She looks like forty! But that's what the street does to a woman. OK, let's get her into the tub.'

While she passively dangled her cigarette, finishing it off in less then three minutes, we managed to free her from the horrible rags under her coat. I had found a laundry sack and we dumped the rags in it and then tied it up as good as we could, to lock in the stench they emanated.

She looked almost like the horrible live skeletons I had seen in a���� documentary of the liberation of a concentration camp after the war in Europe. Her skin, like her face, was covered with dirt and wounds. We helped her into the tub and denied her another cigarette as she coughed constantly now. Except for a sad look she accepted this. The warm water in the tub seemed to do her good and with a cloth I started to clean her up. My heart was heavy as I compared the florid if depraved Celine from our last unfortunate encounter with the ruin she was now. She didn't even twitch when I softly tried to clean all the little wounds that covered all her members. Paul insisted on taking care of her more intimate parts, both as a doctor and an old man, even thou I had told him we had once been lovers. Finally, after half an hour, not to stress her circulatory system too much, we helped her clad into the bathing robe of the hotel and into bed. After debating with Paul what to do next, I ordered what seemed to be the best suited diet for someone who hadn't eaten regularly for a long time. The room service at least was better than one could expect from the otherwise run down appearance of the hotel. They delivered some chicken broth with a bit of bread. Slowly Celine's cheeks recovered a bit of their once rosy complexion. She seemed quite able to talk now and of course she wanted to smoke again. Like before Paul shrugged and I gave her what she wanted. She smoked slower now, still double pumping, but with breaks to breath clean air in-between.

'You have no idea how I craved to be able to smoke one entire cigarette again. I have lived on dirty stubs for month.' she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and week.

'Now what?' I asked Paul.

'Let me see if I can find a vein in her arm. I think she is not in immediate danger for the moment. Tomorrow I'll be back and we shall see. You can always call an ambulance if the going gets tough.'

He left us alone.

I spent the day with her, getting her more to eat and drink, helping her to the toilet when she needed it and I tried to keep her from smoking overly much, but she smoked up two packs anyway. A painful memory rose, of the time more than four years ago, when she came to me fleeing from that unfortunate marriage. Like than I went and bought her two cartons of her Reds. Even thou her eyes still lacked their one time sparkling and the sadness in them would never fully go away, she seemed to recover by the minute. Till the evening she had recovered her appetite.

The room had two kingsize beds but she asked me to stay with her over night. I held her in a chaste embrace and she fell into a deep sleep. The relapse came when I had just drifted off myself. She began to shiver and then she also coughed uncontrollably and fought for air. Then she cramped, her whole body contorted by spasms. After a while, when I was on the point to call nine eleven, she seemed to recover a bit but then it started all over again. After half on hour whatever it was seemed to fade away and her breath steadied. She asked for a cigarette and even thou I had my doubts, I lit two of them and gave her one. This actually seemed to help her and she almost burnt the matress when she drifted into sleep again, dropping her arm with the still burning stub. I removed it from her hand and crushed it in the ashtray together with my half smoked cigarette. The next crisis came two hours later and this time my intuition told me to try help her smoke while she was in the middle of it. To my surprise it did help.

Paul found us in the morning, both tired but composed. Her fits didn't return in daylight and even thou it sounded totally weird it seemed that her constant smoking kept them away.

'Naughty girl!' Paul said with a more forced joy, the kind doctors use to raise the spirits of badly ill patients. 'After all you've been thru, you run for a cancer too.'

Celine seemed not listen to him. She was too preoccupied to get as much Nicotine as she could from her cigarette. Even thou the extorting sufferings from the last night had left their mark on her face she already looked ten years younger then the day before.

'Now my pidgoens,' he went on with his doctors humor. 'I have good news and bad news. The bad one is that you, Young lady, you sure haven't left out much of what the illegal market has to offer in hard stuff. The good knew is you seem to have been clean for a while. Now all depends on whether your young friend here is willing and able to help you. We could of course turn you over to some state facility, but I doubt it would do you much good. Personally, I'm not comfortable with the kind of chemicals they use there and anyway only one out of ten really stays clean after they leave.'

'By the way, did she have any withdrawal symptoms last night?' he asked looking at me

'I'm afraid yes and ugly ones too. I almost called emergency twice.'

'After I read these results, I figured as much. This will take a lot of time and care.'

'But will she recover?' I asked not without a selfish hind thought. She was still young enough, maybe... But I called myself to order. She was in deep trouble and needed someone to help.

'Well, it's on knifes edge, if you ask me. I'm not really an expert on drugs, but I had dealt with cases a bit similar to this one before. Of course she needs round the clock care and surveillance, as much as I regret to say that. If she gets hold of some hard stuff again, she probably won't survive.' he took the gear out if his doctor�s case, to give her shot of something.

'What's that?' I asked somewhat alarmed.

'Oh, really!' he laughed. 'These are vitamins and some tonic. It will do her good and help her liver. Let's hope it will recover completely. As long as stays away from alcohol...'

She didn't wince when he injected her the content of two little vials. The pinch of a needle sure wasn't new to her, I thought with bitterness. There was something else I wanted to ask him.

'I have made an interesting observation last night. I know it sounds stupid but she kept asking to smoke and it's almost like it actually helped her.'

Paul gave me a pensive look and started into quite an explanation.

'Well, I can't say I'm very surprised. You know, even thou personally I am totally against smoking, in this case I'm afraid I can't deny there's a sort of benefic effect of Nicotine on her system.'

He laughed as he saw my puzzled expression.

'I just remembered that my grandpa, who was a doctor too, used to recommend pregnant women to take up smoking because back then it was a common belief that smoking helped to loose weight. And he sure turned my grandma into a compulsive smoker, a habit she had kept till she died at eighty-nine. Imagine she smoked thirty cigarettes a day as a pregnant and not these light weight ones. In the twenties filter cigarettes hadn�t been invented. She even smoked an after dinner cigar with my grandpa too, once she had taken it up in earnest. Can you imagine the picture of a woman in delivery puffing a huge cigar? And my dad sure was one healthy baby same as his younger sisters. I still have an old black and white photo of my grandma breastfeeding my dad and smoking a cigarette while at it. Well, sorry I got carried away.'

He now had Celime's attention too and we both kind of stared at him with open mouths.

'All right. Now only Celine really knows what she was on.'

Celine broke her silence and with her hoarse voice, proof of the abuse she had done to her body, said;

'Doctor, I'm afraid I don't know much myself any more. Somewhere on the road down every thing blurred. I don't actually remember having taken shots, at least not regularly, but it may well be I had one or two. I just don't remember. I know that I preferred to inhale or swallow stuff. It must have been a ton of weed but I'm afraid crack was involved also and God knows what else.' she was quite breathless after such a long speech, as she had hardly uttered a complete sentence before.

'Well, it really doesn't matter that much. You sure were lucky this young man here found you and took it on him to save you. You wouldn't have last another month. OK, back to the Nicotine stuff. You see some of the psychoactive drugs do act on the same receptors like Nicotine. Also the hormonal storm a Nicotine hit triggers is related to what some drugs do to your system. So, as unhealthy as smoking is, it can help you deal a bit better with the withdrawal symptoms. But I warn you, even thou Nicotine is in a way a milder drug, it can be extremely addictive too, so you just sort of trade in one for the other.'

'I don't mind that, Doctor. I have started smoking on my fourteenth birthday and long before I got into all this I was a heavy smoker and never regretted it. So I really have nothing to loose. Even if I had been happily married with George here and never had gotten in trouble, I would still be smoking a lot.'

'All right then. Actually you're in good company.'

He saw our puzzled expressions.

'You see, even if it's not widely known, a lot of people who successfully undergo a treatment for alcoholism take up smoking to compensate the cravings for alcohol. Some institutes actually encourage this, even thou no one would openly admit it. Of course if an alcoholic relapses and had learned to smoke as a means to help him fight his problem, he then has two addictions and they even complement each other. But life is tough anyway, so, forget all this stupid babbling of an old man. Just one last advice, young lady. If I were you, I would try to smoke as little as possible during normal periods and try and save your bodie�s capacity to deal with Nicotine for the times you really need it. You may then even increase the Nicotine dose by smoking some stronger brand or such. I wish I could get you some pure Nicotine base, but apart from gums and patches I know of no other source for Nicotine except tobacco and those gums and patches are way too week to help in your condition. All right then, I'll leave you youngsters alone.'

The idea was born that moment. I would have to make some phone calls but before I started I needed Paul's opinion.

'Doctor? I mean Paul, how soon do you think Celine can travel?'

Paul guessed immediately what was on my mind. After all he knew both my parents since their childhood in our little hometown in Maine.

'If she doesn't feel worse after another night, she could cope with a longer car ride, provided you limit the driving hours. It will mean you need several days if I am right as to what destination you have in mind. I wouldn�t' advise a flight thou.'

Celine, who seemed much more vivid now, looked at me with big eyes. She hadn't dare hope I would go further with my help. Little did she know me. I was set on saving her. I knew of only one person who, apart from myself with my own special motivation, had the right state of mind for such a heavy task. My mom. I would have to ask her but I had no doubt of her answer. I wasn't sure of my dad thou. For all I knew, their income from the capital left after he had sold the store and paid for my college, wasn't that big so an additional expense wasn't exactly welcome. Even if Celine wouldn't need any medication, the cigarettes she would consume alone meant a strain on their income. But the same luck that had solved my dilemma after Celine had left for college, giving my father the chance to retire and me to go to college, sparing me the dreary existence and possible failure as a small store owner, once again helped. Although, it would be wrong to call it luck. It was just my father's instinct that even now, when all he had to do was guarding his money, turned him into a much wealthier man than I had thought him to be. And that also solved another problem, one I had avoided till then.

When I called him up and explained him and mom what my problem was, he laughed till he choked about my sorrow I would impose a too high financial burden upon them.

'What a joke, son. You should have called more often. You see, I had two stupid ideas when I suddenly wound up with a heap of money to invest and assure your mom and me a reasonable income. The first one was a deliberate misunderstanding. My agent told me to invest in fruit copanies as they had a small but stable revenue. OK, I thought, I love apples.'

It was my turn to laugh. Of course! He had bought shares of Apple, the computer company. Hopefully he had also sold them again in time, I thought.

'Well, when I smelled that apples weren't on the rise any more I looked for some smaller companies that were promising. And a company with micro in their name sure sounded little. If the other part of the name is soft, I thought of that male part. Given the right conditions, what is small and soft can turn big and hard.'

Again I shook with laughter. My good old dad.

'So you see, I can afford a lot more than just a little young lady that needs help. Just bring her over here.'

Now I had to address the second problem I had.

'There's on other problem I have. You see, I would need an unpaid leave to make the trip and I doubt my boss would be very happy.'

My father knew me well enough to read between the lines.

'Why don't I hear any regret in your voice? I didn't want to interfere but I had my doubts if that kind of job would offer you the carrier you dreamt of. Tell you what. Why don't you dump those Texans altogether and stay with us till we find an occupation that really makes you happy. Forget about the money. I'm your dad and for whom did I make all that money in the first place?'

'Thanks dad. You saved our lives. I'll keep you current when we are under way.'

I called up my boss and he wasn't exactly happy but he had seen it coming. I promised to come and settle my affairs later on. The apartment I had rented in Austin also had to be taken care of, but I had paid it three month in advance so I could now concentrate fully on Celine.

It showed that it would take a lot of care till she would even remotely resemble her old self. I hoped that at least she had the will to become a normal human again. She never sad it but I could see in her eyes she still wavered and often enough would have reached for any kind of drug if it were available. As good as I could I tried to limit her smoking during the times she felt good. Thinking of Paul's words I tried different brands of strong cigarettes. Unfortunately I had to rule out unfiltered ones that had appeared to be the sensible choice. Alas, when she needed them most, she munched them up as they lacked the filter that could withstand a wilder treatment. Reluctantly I went to a tobacconist. It was awkward as I of course I couldn't explain to him what my purpose was. After Celine threw up from a too strong black cigar during one of her fits, I finally settled on a type of cheap machine made cigars that were flavored like pipe tobacco. These seemed to really do Celine good, especially as they had a plastic mouth piece and she could byte on them without fear ruining them. I hid them during the day so she wouldn't overdo it. The only disadvantage of the Black&Milds was that they had a rather unlucky resemblance with those blunt type cigars she had started her drug career on. I allowed her no more than one cigarette per hour, but as soon as I turned my back on her she would reach for the pack and every time I had to leave the hotel room I found upon returning a couple of butts in the ashtray. There were moments when I thought I talked to the real Celine, my friend and lover from years ago, then again she was totally lost in daydreams or locked in dark thoughts.

I rented a car, a big old convertible, with a huge but quiet engine and with a soft suspension that could make you seasick. We were lucky as the weather was fair all thru our ride and Celine could smoke without choking us. After a hearty breakfast we would ride a couple of miles, then make long breaks wherever we could find a nice picnic area. When she felt in the mood we would talk. When I saw she didn't feel well I sometimes gave her an extra cigar as a treat. In fact I enjoyed the mild spicy smell of them and as Celine did recover both physically and mentally, my compassion and care for her slowly allowed for some more intense feelings, but I never allowed them to show. Still, one night when I rocked her into her sleep like always, she turned around and kissed me. I felt her breasts that had almost filed in again to their once wonderful pear shape and I could not help but get aroused. She felt it and before I realized what was going on we made love. It was awkward as I had to hold back and be as gentle as I could. Most of the wounds on her body had healed, but even thou it was she who wanted it, she was quite dry, but every time I wanted to withdraw she squeezed me, asking me to go on. It ended in a rather joyless climax of mine. She had not given any sign of getting really aroused and I felt guilty.

I felt her by the shake of her shoulders she was crying.

'I'm so sorry, my love.' she stammered between sobs. 'I really wanted it to work out.

'You shouldn't have done this. I need no reward'

Her sobs intensified

'But you don't understand. I wanted it for me, not for you. I hoped it would be like in the old times. You were the only one who really could give me satisfaction'

I don't know if she heard my sigh or she had remembered the same thing I did. Her words of an hour-long drug induced orgasm with that Diego character still rang in my ears.

'Oh I know what you think, but believe me, I lied to you about what Diego had given me. Yes, I had some outstanding sexual excesses with him but it was his drugs mostly and it felt so shallow and empty in a way. In fact I used to masturbate sometimes when I had smoked a bit too much of his weed and he wasn't there. Those were the only times I had even remotely felt what you had made feel and only when I thought of you while...' Her voice trailed off and even thou I couldn't be sure if she had told me the truth, the fact alone that she tried to make up for how she had hurt me drove away my bitterness and I hugged her tight. I didn't hear no sobs from her but she still shook and for fear of a new fit I reached for a cigar and gave it to her. She turned her back on me, not to choke me with the strong smoke. Now that I had began to see a woman in her again, her audible inhales and almost palpable pleasure and satisfaction she gained from smoking, turned me on again.

I tried to draw back a little not to embarrass her. She had her own problems to deal with. Yet, as she had felt it and without turning around, she reached for my erect organ and wriggled her still skinny backside till she could direct my penis into her. To my surprise I found her soaking wet. Her climax came fast and high. On and on I felt the spasms of her inner muscles engulf my organ while she struggled to drag on her cigar. It didn't take me very long and I joined her on cloud nine. I held her that way for a while and between thirsty drags on her cigar she relaxed slowly. Then she left it in the ashtray and exhaling a residue of smoke, she turned around to me. Her slow and sweet kiss tasted wonderfully spicy.

'What was this?' she whispered. 'Will I need one of these every time I want to make love?'

�'And if? I'd rather have you back like this, then not at all'

'But doesn't it disturb you that I need to smoke to be ready for you?'

I had difficulties to clear my throat. I had often had erotic dreams of women doing all sorts of smoking while making love to me or during foreplay. Could it be that we had get to this point to wind up in the most gratifying experience I could imagine? No other woman had ever given me such satisfaction as Celine. To top this as she had just done was... I had no words for it. As I hadn't answered at once, she mistook my silence for disapproval. A single tear made its way down her cheek.

'Oh, my dear little Celine. No I don't mind it at all. I wouldn't mind if you needed it every time, if there will be a next time. If we were gifted with a couple of years from now on, I could do with almost anything.'

'OK then,' she sounded a bit unsure. 'I'll see I get rid of this as soon as I can, but at least for now it helps.'

'Honey, I guess I must tell you a bit more. You see it's not like I just tolerate that you need a cigar to make love to me. To tell you the truth I loved it that way. Somehow it has been better than anything I have ever felt.'

'No kidding? Wow' She whirled her arms around m neck and covered my face with little kisses.

'And it doesn't make me smell bad?'

She wanted to know, still doubtful.

'No, really not. I love it.'

I don't know if it had something to do with it, but that night for the first time her fits didn�t return. Maybe we just anticipated their approach as she begged two more times for a cigar and inevitably we wound up each time in a more satisfying embrace.

The following day we had left the little motel as fast as we could. We were both in such good spirits, we decided to drive thru to reach my parents house sooner. Celine was almost her old self again and laughed and chatted happily all the way. Sometimes she would sleep with her head on my shoulder then again she kissed me and caressed my crotch. She didn't even smoke very much, not the way she had before.

My parents had heard the car and seen the headlights. We embraced each other on the porch and exchanged lots of kisses. We hadn't seen each other for quote a while. My mom took Celine by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.

'My God, George, you are a liar. You said you'll bring home one sick woman and look at this. Celine looks as healthy as ever.'

'That's because your son is the best nurse on earth.' Celine replied with a shy smile.

'So then you two pidgeons will want to share a room. That sounds good. You both deserve each other.' Celine gave me a doubtful glance, but to reassure her I kissed her hard on her mouth.

Things went fine for a while. I had to leave for a while to sort things out in Austin. When I came back, I found Celine in a rather funny mood.

'Good or bad first?' A game we had played in our childhood, even thou it was no game now.

'Bad'

'I had another fit last night. The cigar helped but I had hoped to need them only for our pleasure. Maybe all I need is a combined therapy, but for that I need you.' she grinned. So it hadn't been all that bad.

'But I have a suspicion of what triggered it and that's the good news. I'm not even sure if I haven't confused the cramps for something else.'

What on earth was she talking about? What other reason for cramps...? Then I realized it. The best sign she was really recovering, I hoped. I smiled happily and she saw I had figured it out.

'Yes, I have my cycle again. The first time in over two years. I even went to a gynecologist this morning. He said I can have kids and he doesn't think there are risks because of my drug record. I have even escaped AIDS by miracle.'

Then a little cloud descended on her face. 'Of course if you can get aquainted with the idea to marry an ex junkie.

I hurried to squeeze her into my arms.

'Dear wonderful Celine! Do you think I will ever let you go again? We can take the next plane to Vegas and get married on the spot if that's what troubles you.'

My mother interfered now.

'Hey, hey, hey, easy now. There's no hurry. You can wait till next week. Father Mulcahany will be glad to celebrate a wedding. He loves weddings but with all the old folks around here doesn't get too many occasions.'

So everything seemed to work out way better than any of us had hoped. I had one little shock, when after a ride up town I found Celine smoking what looked exactly like those drug stuffed blunts two years before. But as I approached her I could tell it smelled just like fine tobacco. Relieved I kissed her right on her juicy mouth and savored the rich taste of tar. It had been my father who had given her the cigar, a real Cuban one he had gotten from the man who did our lawn and occasionally sold smuggled Cuban cigars.

'Well?' she said cocking her head 'How did you like the taste?'

'I could get used to it.'

'I'll talk to daddy to get more of these. Thank you so much, dearest.'

'Just promise me not to overdo it'

'Yes massa.'

We laughed happily oblivious of the dark clouds that gathered in a distance.

I sat on the marble bench beside the grave and wept a little. Why so soon? I kept asking myself. If she could only have seen the baby! Finally I dried my tears and took out a cigarette.

'You really shouldn't smoke that much!' two warm motherly arms embraced me from behind.

'Look who's talking'

Celine, who's belly showed quite well now as she was five month under way, jumped up my lap and kissed me passionately.

'Yeah, but you know how it is. I still need it and we talked it all out. It would have harmed the baby too if the fits would have returned and you know what happened the day I heard I'm pregnant and tried not to smoke all day.'

I returned her kiss. We had talked it out and decided to take the chance. My freelancing had finally taken momentum and I earned quite a lot without having to leave home, so I could assist her in any way. The doctor, another old friend of my father, had more or less confirmed Paul's words and he too believed it was better for Celine to keep on smoking even if he advised her to keep it as low as she could. The odds were very good the child would not suffer from it. If not, well, we would take the risk.

'Yes my love, I know. Kismet.'

I saw the melancholy in her eyes. She sometimes felt guilty of what she had done, but I kept telling her that maybe it had been a lesson she had to learn. What if she had years ago decided to stay with me in the first place? She might have kept regretting it, feeling she had swapped one prison for another. Admittedly, I had a secret reason to be satisfied with the way things had developed. I had realized it made no sense to deny my true feelings. Her smoking turned me on like nothing else could. So as I knew no campaign against smoking could make her quit now, what more could I hope for? I knew it was selfish of me, but it was none of my fault.

'I only wish mom could have been here.' she said with tears on her voice. I rocked her a while, unable to speak as the pain gripped my throat. I was thankful that my father had taken it so well. He had explained that for years they had both known it will happen one day as my mom had suffered from an aneurysm, a week blood vessel somewhere in her brain where it was impossible to operate. They had accepted it and had tried to enjoy every day like it was their last one. Now I understood better why they had been so close.

Celine took out a pack of Reds and lit a cigarette. I joined in with my Lights.

'Still not prepared to try the real ones?' she teased and gave me another juicy kiss. I traced the residues of one of her little Cohibas I knew she smoked behind my back.� I would have to tell her not to hide her Cohibas any more as I knew it anyway and in bed...

The End