A Nest of Nightmares

‘I’ve been out a lot.’ She began to peel the cellophane wrapping off the doughnuts.

‘Do tell. Look, Nora, I’ve got some papers for you to sign.’

‘Aw, and I thought maybe you’d called to say “Happy anniversary”.’

He was silent. One side of Nora’s mouth twitched upwards: she’d scored.

Then he sighed. ‘What do you want, Nora? Am I supposed to think that today means something to you? That you still care? That you want me back?’

‘God forbid.’

‘Then cut the crap, all right? So we didn’t make it to our wedding anniversary – all right, so legally we’re still married – but what’s the big deal?’

‘I was joking, Larry. You never could recognise a joke.’

‘I didn’t call to fight with you, Nora. Or to joke. I’d just like you to sign these papers so we can get this whole thing over with. You won’t even have to show up in court.’

Nora bit into a doughnut and brushed off the spray of sugar that powdered her shirt.

‘Nora? When should I bring the papers by?’

She set the half-eaten doughnut down on the counter and reflected. ‘Um, come this evening, if you want. Not too early, or I’ll still be asleep. Say . . . seven-thirty?’

‘Seven-thirty.’

‘That won’t cut into your dinner plans with what’s-her-name?’

‘Seven-thirty will be fine, Nora. I’ll see you then. Just be there.’ And he hung up before she could get in another dig.

Nora grimaced, then shrugged as she hung up. She finished the doughnut, feeling depressed. Despite herself, she’d started thinking about Larry again, and their marriage which had seemed to go bad before it had properly started. She thought about their brief honeymoon. She remembered Mexico.

It had been Larry’s idea to drive down to Mexico – Nora had always thought of Mexico as a poor and dirty place filled with undesirables who were always sneaking into the United States. But Larry had wanted to go, and Nora had wanted to make Larry happy.

It was their luna de miel, moon of honey, Larry said, and the Spanish words sounded almost sweet to her, coming from his mouth. Even Mexico, in his company, had seemed freshly promising, especially after they escaped the dusty borderlands and reached the ocean.

One afternoon they had parked on an empty beach and made love. Larry had fallen asleep, and Nora had left him to walk up the beach and explore.

She walked along in a daze of happiness, her body tingling, climbing over rocks and searching for shells to bring back to her husband. She didn’t realise how far she had travelled until she was shocked out of her pleasant haze by a sharp cry, whether human or animal she could not be certain. She heard some indistinct words, then, tossed to her by the wind.

Nora was frightened. She didn’t want to know what the sounds meant or where they came from. She turned around immediately, and began to weave her way back among the white boulders. But she must have mistaken her way, for as she clambered back over a rock she was certain she had just climbed, she saw them below her, posed like some sacrificial tableau.

At the centre was a girl, spread out on a low, flat rock. The victim. Crouching over her, doing something, was a young man. Another young man stared at them greedily. Nora gazed at the girl’s face, which was contorted in pain. She heard her whimper. It was only then that she realised, with a cold flash of dread, what she was seeing. The girl was being raped.

Nora was frozen with fear and indecision, and then the girl opened her eyes, and gazed straight up at Nora. Her brown eyes were eloquent with agony. Was there a glimmer of hope there at the sight of Nora? Nora couldn’t be sure. She stared into those eyes for what seemed like a very long time, trying desperately to think of what to do. She wanted to help this girl, to chase away the men. But there were two men, and she, Nora, had no particular strengths. They would probably be pleased to have two victims. And at any time one of them might look up and see her watching.

Trying to make no noise, Nora slipped backwards off the rock. The scene vanished from her sight; the pleading brown eyes could no longer accuse her. Nora began to run as best she could over the uneven ground. She hoped she was running in the right direction, and that she would soon come upon Larry. Larry would help her – she would tell him what she had seen, and he would know what to do. He might be able to frighten away the men, or, speaking Spanish, he could at least tell the police what she had seen. She would be safe with Larry.