Ransom X

  *****

  Blue stood over Laura, using a clear-weave baker’s brush to spread a thin, glistening layer of oil on her body. There were silver and gold flecks in the oil that made her body sparkle like it was crafted from some streaked hybrid of precious metal. Her eyes popped open, her pupils rolling back momentarily. She was coming out of sedation. The lids of her eyes felt like shutters, stuck down with a dodgy mechanism for raising them. Then they were open again. A drip of Blue’s sweat rolled off his nose and fell onto her forehead. He watched with delight as it made its way down the slope of her brow and mixed with the saline in the corner of her eye. Laura blinked, it was the only part of her body that moved, she was restrained with a series of criss-crossed thin leather straps against a solid pegboard. It was a process that took Blue hours, and left her in exactly the pose that he wanted. His brush reached Laura’s lips. Blue traded it for a more precise tip.

  “It’s the lips that make the first impression. I say that lips are an hour and hair is an afterthought.”

  “Let me write that down.”

  “Cat’s whiskers you are sassy. How are you feeling?”

  “Can I talk to the filthy pervert who runs this place?”

  “I’m the janitor.”

  “That makes my body the toilet.”

  “Your body is pure art. The muscles you have –” his hand hovered over her skin touching nothing, causing anticipation of contact nonetheless, “and their tone, incredible. It’s why I chose the quartz flecks in the oil. It’s hard not to make you beautiful my dear.”

  “Compliments are nice, but I’d prefer the key to this place and a map to the mountains around it.”

  “You think you saw mountains? Well, we’ve moved you since then, why do you think they sedate you every night?”

  “Cut the crap, I smell the pine.”

  Blue picked up an air freshener and spurted the air. “Smell anything like this?” He made a spshsh noise pulling his lips behind the bottom row of his teeth and opening his mouth like he was swallowing some kind of gourmet dessert. The next thing that came out her mouth surprised him, like a warm breeze in early spring.

  “How do I get out of this alive?” Her eyes evaluated the effect of each word. “Who do I have to make like me?”

  Blue was silent. He’d broken through her confidence layer much sooner than he would have expected. She was already prepared to put her life into his hands. It made him suspicious. This was exciting, his first victory and his first challenge coming so early in the game. He knew what she wanted to hear, so he didn’t even give her a hint of it.

  “Let’s start with me and work our way up.”

  Laura squirmed in disappointment, but then something changed. She warmed to Blue visibly.

  “You like beauty and form?” Blue nodded. “I can show you something you’ve never seen.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  “Give me the eyebrow pencil and one free hand, and I will impression with them.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “The whores of ancient Cyprus used to paint fertility symbols on their bodies, they thought that they would make anyone who looked on their naked form, men and women alike helpless to their sexual spell. Don’t you think you’d like that?”

  Blue’s eyes danced under the mask of vinyl, “Show me one, and I’ll put it on your body.”

  Blue drew the outline of a body on a piece of paper. He loosened the bonds holding down her right arm and handed her the pencil. She put the pencil to paper and drew an intricate symbol curving up to the edge of her thigh. “Will it make me look special?”

  Blue duplicated each stroke on Laura, fixated on her skin; it was a beautiful mixture of art and human form. He wet his lips. “It might. Let’s keep it symmetrical.” He moved the tip of the pencil to the other side of her body.

  “Let me do my eyes.” She extended her palm, asking for an eyeliner pencil. “I’m not helpless.”

  Blue looked at her, defiant, and utterly immobile pinned against a pegboard. She started to laugh. It was genuine, dripping in irony, a rich tune from a complex soul. Blue wanted to hear it again the moment it stopped. Instead of letting her see how interested he was, he thrust an eyebrow pencil in her hand and turned back toward his artwork. “I wasn’t expecting all this extra decoration. Do your best to make them pop, we’ve only got an hour.”