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Alan Abrams

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yet another disturbance
By Alan Abrams
Monday, September 27, 2010

Rated "R" by the Author.

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Terry has blown out his lower back, unloading a truckload of sheetrock by himself in the pouring rain.


Terry pulls up to a bungalow on a tree lined street.  He gets out and approaches the house--the lead walk is blocked by recycling containers and other detritus, so he walks along the driveway. 

From the neighbor's yard a huge dog lunges at him, placing its front paws on the top of a fence and barking ferociously. Terry turns toward the dog.


Hey baby, be cool now.

The dog pauses, then continues to bark.  Terry extends a hand.


Hey babe, it's cool, just be cool.

The dog pauses, then snaps at his hand.  Terry withdraws it just in time.


Comeon, babe, let's be cool.  Reaalll cooool.

Terry extends his hand again.  This time the dog lets Terry pet its head.


Thaaat's a good dog, oooo yeah, so cool now, yeaahhhh.

The dog makes a squealing sound.  Terry continues up the driveway, and hobbles up the porch steps.


The porch is strewn with children's toys and tricycles.  The front door is open; Terry peers in and knocks.  The YOUNG MAN walks out and meets Terry on the porch; he is wearing a loosened tie and an ID tag on a chain.  Inside is a YOUNG WOMAN holding an infant.


Hi, uh, sorry to interrupt, I, uh, have an appointment with Lisa... but maybe I have the wrong...


No, you're at the right house; Lisa's around back.  There's a path along the left--but watch out for the neighbor's dog--it's viscious.


Thanks, sorry to bother you.

Terry descends the steps.


Charles, you have to speak to Lisa about her clients coming to the front.


(going back inside)

Darling, I've told her a hundred...

Terry walks around the side of the house.  The dog trots along the fence, whimpering.  Terry then turns the corner and finds a set of concrete steps leading a half flight down to a basement door.  There is a sundeck above the steps.  A cat is sunning on the wall beside the steps.

Terry walks down the steps and raises his knuckles to knock, but LISA opens the door first.  LISA walks out and confronts him in the small space.


Hi, Lisa...


Do you realize what time it is?


Uh, I know I'm late, I'm so sorry...



It's nearly six!  I told you we're drumming tonight at the peace vigil; I've got to be downtown at seven. 


I know, you did tell me... I took some pain pills and fell asleep...


I'm sorry, too, Terry, but I have obligations.  There's just not enought time to do anything for you now.  I really should charge you for a no-show...

Terry winces again and his knee flexes.  He clutches his lower back.




Oh dear.  Turn around.

Terry turns away from her.  Lisa pulls up his shirt and runs her hand up and down each side of his spine.  When her hand touches the small of his back, Terry tenses slightly.




It's right here, I feel the heat.


Yes, sometimes it's like an electric shock... I see a flash of light...

LISA rubs the spot slowly.


It's your sacro.  It's in total spasm.  Come in, let's get you up on the table.

Lisa opens the door for Terry who squeezes past her.  At the last second, the cat jumps off the wall and skitters in between their feet.



Lisa leads Terry through a small kitchen, then through a bedroom decorated with printed fabrics and lots of candles.  TERRY has to dodge a painted paper umbrella, hung upside down from the ceiling as a light shade. 

Finally they reach a small room with a massage table.  There is a high silled window at one end, and on the adjacent wall, a small stand with a boom box, some CD's, and some bottles of oil. 

On the wall opposite the window is a poster of a blue skinned man and woman in a fanciful costume, with a bare midriff.  The figures are flying on the back of a half-man, half-bird creature.


OK, you need to get undressed.  Everything.  I'm going to start on your ventral, so you need to lie on your back.  Are you going to need help?


Uh, no thanks, I think I can manage.


Good.  Just pull this sheet over you when you lay down.  I'll give you a couple of minutes.

Lisa leaves and draws a curtain across the door.  Examining the poster, Terry undresses and lays down.  He looks up at the bare joists.


Are you ready?



Suddenly, he remembers the sheet and pulls it over himself.  Lisa enters with a glass of water. 


OK, comfy?


Yes, very... Thanks so much for doing this...



Never mind; I couldn't send you off like that... Now drink this water; it will help to flush the toxins away.

Terry takes a drink from the glass and looks for a place to set it aside.


No, you need to finish it.

Terry silently obeys.  Lisa takes the glass and sets it on the table.


That's better.  You let me know if you need some more.  Now then, do you mind if I put on some music?



Oh, sure.  Please do.

Lisa puts a CD in the boombox.  Terry can just make out Lisa's legs through her gauzy pants, silhouetted by light from the window.  The music starts with slow, shimmering runs on the sitar.


I hope you like ragas.  They help me to listen to your body.


Sure, no problem.


For these sacros, I like to start at the top and work down... get everything around the crisis region as relaxed as possible, before dealing with it.

Lisa begins to massage Terry's scalp and temples.  Terry looks up and notices thick black hair in Lisa's armpits, and the outline of her breasts against her tight, thin sleeveless shell.


It's good to have a plan, I guess.




I do start with a strategy, generally, you know, but then I let my hands tell me exactly what to do.  Now you just concentrate on your breathing, and try to relax.  Imagine the toxins, draining out of your muscles, into your bloodstream.

Lisa continues the massage, first working oil into his shoulders and arms, then kneading and pulling in slow, strong motions.  Terry is mezmerized by her breasts, changing shape as she works over him.  Then Lisa notices a bump on his collar bone.


That must have hurt.


I guess.  I was high at the time.  Riding my bike and hit a patch of wet leaves.  Going way too fast, as usual.


I like bicycling.  I wish I didn't need my car.


I had to bicycle because my license was suspended.  I haven’t ridden much since they reinstated it, though.  Maybe I should take it up again and break the other collar bone.  The shoulder on the broken side doesn’t stick out near as far as my good shoulder.  It makes me look deformed.

Lisa closes her eyes and continues.


You... have a beautiful body.

The raga builds in intensity. 


I like... I like your body, too.


OK, I need you to turn over.  Let’s get to work on this knot.


Terry turns over, keeping the sheet above his waist.  As he turns, he fixes again on the figures on the poster.  Lisa continues with the massage. 

Now watching Lisa's bare feet, he sees the cat come in and rub against her legs.



       Web Site: the careless perfection of nature

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