Ten Years Later
I’m sitting in a back-corner booth of one of those bar/restaurants attached to a hotel out by the airport. Dark wood. Plasma TVs hanging from the ceiling. Fake old-time advertisements on the wall. They’re all the same: Marriott, Hilton, Wyndham, Boston, Austin, Spokane. All filled with salesman and junior execs drinking away the day’s failures and fortifying themselves for tomorrow’s battles in corporate America.
Tonight it’s an Embassy Suites in Tampa. Out the window rain falls on a sea of slow-moving red tail lights. After a long and semi-profitable of day knocking on doors selling the latest in lead-generation software, I just want a hot burger and a cold beer.
The waiter brings me a menu and ice water. I order a Black and Tan. I rub the tension away from my neck. I can feel the beginnings of a headache. The beer can’t get here fast enough.
A laugh pierces the low murmur of restaurant conversations.
A feminine laugh.
Flirty. Self-assured. Dangerous.
Her laugh.
But that’s impossible. Last time I heard that laugh was ten years ago and a thousand miles away.
I scan the restaurant. There’s a blonde with her back to me at a table twenty feet away. Straight, long blonde hair, black top, black skirt and knee-high boots. Could it be her? Opposite sits a non-descript, forty-something guy in a gray business suit. He’s not talking, but watching her intently.
She reaches across the table, inside his suit pocket and pulls out a wallet.
Her signature move.
He doesn’t object. He’s stares straight ahead.
She slips the wallet into her purse, lifts her hand and snaps her fingers.
His eyes slam shut and he face plants into a plate of pasta.
It’s her. No doubt about it.
She rises from the table and turns.
I grab the menu and bury my nose in it. I re-read the appetizer section four times. I am torn between cheddar potato sliders and bacon pizza shooters.
Thirty seconds...
Sixty seconds...
Ninety seconds...
It’s got to be safe to put the menu down n—
“Hello, James.” Her words are clear, certain, confident.
My heart skips a beat. The voice, her voice, is coming from the other side of the table. I lower the menu. I’m staring at the cover of a magazine.
Brilliant blue eyes framed by librarian glasses. Flawless make-up. Red lips to die for. She wears a black jacket over a white silk blouse. The top three buttons are undone. A blue gem at the end of a gold necklace rests on pale white skin just above her imposing cleavage.
“Zusa,” I say.
She flashes a dazzling smile, displaying perfect white teeth.
“Zusa,” I say.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Zusa,” I say.
She frowns. “You sound like a skipped record.” She reaches over and wraps her knuckles on my skull, breaking the spell.
“Ow!”
She smiles. “That’s better.”
“I can’t do this.” I start to slide out of the booth.
“You’re not going anywhere.” She snaps her fingers. “You’re stuck in your seat. The more effort you expend, the more immovable you become.” She grins while I struggle to break free.
After twenty seconds of no progress, I give up. “Okay, I guess I’ll stay.”
She laughs. “I’ve always appreciated your sense of humor, James.”
The way she says my name, the tone in her voice, like a teacher instructing a student, makes me weak all over.
She stares at me with sparkling blue eyes and asks, “How long has it been, James?”
Again with my name. I want to hear her sweet voice say it over and over. “Ten years. And you’ve haven’t aged a day. Is there an oil painting of you in an attic or something?”
She shrugs. “Or something.”
The waiter returns with my beer and gawks at Zusa. “I didn’t realize there were two of you. Can I get you a drink?”
“Screwdriver,” Zusa says, ordering her standard.
“Very good.” The waiter hustles off.
“So what’s the story on the other guy?” I ask.
“Other guy?”
I crook my thumb in the direction of her previous table. “He’s sleeping in his spaghetti.”
“Oh, Tommy.” She sighs. “He was a bit of a bore, so I ended things quickly.” Her eyes gleam. “On the other hand, James, you were always my favorite toy.”
I swallow hard when she says ‘toy.’
“I remember the first time you called me on NiteFlirt. Nervous. Shy. Vulnerable.” She must have slipped her boot off. I feel her toes hook the cuff of my pants and slide up my shin.
I grip the table with both hands. My knuckles are white.
“Remember how wonderful it felt to fall into my trance.”
I was a broke college student and Zusa made me broker. Had to take three jobs to afford her. “I’m still paying off the student loans.”
She moves her foot up and rubs against my thigh. “It was so hot when you paid for my flight to Denver, and knelt before me begging to take all your cash.”
I breathe deeply. My heart pounds. My body shakes.
“I hoped we might rekindle our relationship.” She shoves her foot against my crotch. “What do you say to that, James?”
I can’t resist her. She knows it. I know it. I sent her a thousand a month back when I was in school. I’m making good money now. I can afford that until she gets bored with me and moves on to the next unsuspecting chump. I sigh. “Yes, Zusa.”
“Don’t say it like that!” She frowns. “This is a joyous occasion. A chance for you to renew your devotion to me. Understand?”
“Yes, Zusa,” I say with enthusiasm.
“Excellent!” She smiles. “I’m thinking $10,000 a month.”
“Ten thousand?” I start choking.
She gives me a quizzical look. “Of course. You’re not a starving college student any more. You’re one of DeltaDeal’s top salesmen. You can afford it.”
“How do you know that? Have you been stalking me?”
“Do I really look like I have the time to check up on all my toys.” She shakes her head. “I’m too busy having fun.” She holds up her phone. “You’ve been emailing me for years.”
I squint at the screen. Messages from me, I have no memory of sending.
“I know all about Jane and your two lovely daughters.”
I shake my head. This is impossible. “I—I’ve been emailing you?”
She nods. “My triggers and programming never wear off. How did you think I knew you’d be here tonight? You think this is all a coincidence?”
I slump in my chair. Zusa has always been a dozen steps ahead of me.
“Like I said ten thousand sounds like a good number to start.”
“Start?” I feel my throat tighten.
“Sure. And twenty thousand next month.” Her eyes widen. “Then double it. And double it again. And so on. How long do you think you can keep that up?” She’s practically giddy. “How long until your darling wife discovers what’s going on? That her allegedly devoted husband in reality is just my mindless toy?”
“Zusa, please...”
She laughs. “Pleading and begging just make me hotter.”
Tears stream down my cheeks. “I never wanted this...”
“Oh, but you did, James.” She leans forward. She smells like apple blossoms. “You visited my website. You read the warnings. I was very clear what would happen if you listened to my voice and allowed me to enter your mind.”
I am sobbing now. “But I thought that—”
“Thought what? I was boasting? It was all a gag? That ‘entertainment purposes only’ disclaimer was legit?” She smiles cruelly. “No, my hypnosis is powerful and real, as you now understand.”
“So now what?” I whimper.
“We’ll start with your wallet.”
I look at her, but don’t move.
“Really, James?” Her foot presses against my crotch.
I gasp for air.
“Hand it over.”
I reach into my pocket, withdraw the wallet and drop it on the table.
She scoops it up and rifles it. “AmEx Gold? You are doing well for yourself.” She takes the cash and credit cards, stuffing them into her purse.
“How am I going to pay for my meal? Hotel room? Get back home?”
She sighs. “That’s not really my problem, is it James?”
“No,” I say dejectedly. “I guess not.”
“Hey, turn that frown upside down,” says Zusa. “This is a great honor. Do you know how many men would trade spots with you right now? Do you know how much they’d pay?”
I think about the legions of envious men and manage a half-smile.
“That’s better. See? Keep in mind how much you love this, how much you need this.”
I smile fully.
“Remember how it good it feels to be used and abused by me, James. The way I twist your will and mind. The way you break into a cold sweat when I give you a command that cannot be refused. What it’s like to be my toy. And to be ultimately ruined by me. Such a lucky fellow. I am sure you can feel the gratitude overwhelming you right now.”
She’s right. My appreciation for Zusa knows no bounds. “Yes, I can.”
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Zusa,” I say sincerely.
“For what?”
With deep reverence I say, “For destroying me. Bankrupting me. Ruining my life.”
She smiles, reaches across the table, slips my wallet into my jacket pocket and brushes away a tear. “Such a good toy. I am so proud of you.”
I have never been happier in my life.
She checks her watch. “Almost time to go. I’ve got an appointment with a US Senator who likes to be turned into a dog.”
My heart shatters. She’s about to leave after re-entering my life after all these years. “Zusa, please don’t go.”
She shakes her head. “Sorry, James, we’ve had our fun. Back into the toy chest. It’s sleepy time.”
“But I’m not tired,” I protest.
She smiles.
“Yes, you are, James...
“You’re very tired...
“You can’t even keep your eyes open...
“They are so heavy...
“Like your mind...
“Your arms...
“Your whole body...
“So heavy...
“So tired...
“Desperate for sleep...
“Desperate to sleep for me...
“Impossible to stay awake...
“Even for another moment...
“Spiraling down...
“Dropping into a deep...
“Deep...
“Peaceful...
“Sleep...
“5...
“4...
“3...
“2...
“1...
“0...
Deep Sleep Now!”
Zusa snaps her fingers three times.
I have a strange sense of coming to. Not like I’ve been a sleep, just becoming aware.
The waiter returns, I order a bacon double-cheeseburger, medium well.
“And for the lady?” he asks.
“What lady?”
“She was sitting right here.”
I look and see the half-full glass of what appears to be orange juice. My chest tightens. “What did she look like?”
The waiter gives me a weird glance. “A real babe. Long blonde hair. Blue eyes. Glasses. Sharp dresser.”
Zusa!
I shake my head. “No, nothing for her.”
The waiter departs.
My heart pounds as I pull out my wallet.
Except for my driver’s license and Panera Bread Rewards Card, it’s empty.
Zusa!
Ten years later and I am still her toy.
Zusa!