Nessa

I did the right thing. You would have done the same, I expect. You will try to tell yourself that it would have gone differently for you.

You will think of many, powerful arguments in your own favor. That is one thing I have no time for, anymore. I know what it's like when no shadow falls between the emotion and the response, which ruins your patience. Save your outrage. At least hear me out before you assume anything.

You should know that Nessa and I met online. People are always a bit embarrassed to admit that, or they make a big production out of pretending to be. I think that's a way to make meeting online acceptable, in fact: if everyone is embarrassed, then no one really needs to be. Pretending makes everyone comfortable, though. More of the aforementioned BS, right?

That's where we met. Get over it. Given what happened next, it would be idiotic to worry about that.

Nessa writes beautifully. I think that's what sealed the deal for me. I don't mean that she never splits an infinitive. She ends sentences with prepositions regularly, as those who favor substance over style tend to. She's too fond of the comma, and will admit it. What I mean is that she uses language to reveal herself, and what she makes of everything, in a way that gives me intense pleasure. Here is the third message she sent me on the stupid, dating site:

I worry about people. They beat the present with the possible future. It's like they are trying to train one another, you know? "Tuck that in. Straighten that. Don't do that. Don't say that. Don't eat that." Nobody is given a chance to carry on being the same person who the annoying trainer claimed to like in the first place! I refuse to treat you that way. You're odd. So am I. Bark at a stranger now and then, will you?

You see what I mean, don't you? Observations stirred together to cook up something savory. We carried on like that for a few weeks; in fact, it was a sort of Desmond Morris's field guide to online dating: a) Observe the other humans in their natural habitat. b) Try to figure out what the hell they think they are doing. c) Avoid their most obvious mistakes, together. It was a winning formula.

After a month, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to be with her. I was afraid to destroy the whole thing, though. Part of the charm was that we hadn't met IRL, as the kids say. They don't generally give a thought to capitalization, but you get the gist.

Apart from some images that could have been total fiction and were certainly filtered and scrubbed, I had no idea about her physical body, nor did she know much for certain about mine. I won that one walking away. Had she only known about the state of my credit, or my wardrobe, or my gingivitis, I would not have had a shot. She's improbably gorgeous.

She makes me feel grateful to have eyes that are fit to see her, and to my amazement, she likes looking at me, too. She has taught me things that I am ashamed I did not know I needed to learn.

Anyway, I couldn't stand it anymore, so I wrote this after one too many, when I shouldn't have had access to my device any more:

We've crossed a wild frontier. I don't know if you've ever been a man, or if you'd like to be one some day. I would like to find out. Whatever the answer is, I'm a man at the moment, and I'm glad. I'd like to use my clumsy, simian, male self to give you lots of pleasure. I think you should be ecstatically happy more often. If I can help, let me know. I hope we'll go on talking regardless. I like stout. The night should always be served in pints.

She was skeptical, at first. I thought there must be someone else. I thought I could live with that, as long as I could pitch in somehow. I let her know that. She ridiculed me without mercy.

At last, we met for one drink that turned out to have friends. She's fascinating. She's fluent in several languages, one of which she may have invented after losing a bet. She can carry on at length about poetry and philosophy and the transition from hunter gatherer stumbling to agriculture and animal husbandry and the current mess with uncanny lucidity, even after the third round. Naked? She's an artist and a work of art. I'm not sure if I'm more grateful for my body or hers.

She was weird about time and place, though. For three days of every, bloody month, she was impossible to get a hold of. That worried me. I thought there might be a drug problem. That suspicion about other people in her life started pestering me again. About a month ago, I'd had enough of the disappearing act. I decided to just barge in and see what happened. I'm not too bright.

There's an insomniac diner across the street from her flat. I swam in coffee until just before dawn, when her uber turned up. I fixed my courage to the sticking place, paid my bill and crossed the street. She looked a bit bleary and seemed to be puzzled by the stairs.

"Where did you go, Nessa?" I asked, trying not to be creepy.

"Rutherford," she said. Her voice was soft and thick, furry. "Missed me, did you?" She'd gotten the hang of the stairs and was fumbling with her key. She did not turn around.

"I did. Where's Rutherford?"

"Deep in the woods, up north. People with more money than brains go there to feed the mosquitoes and hunt and fish. Do you know, I saw a bunch of sweaty aristocrats in camo leave a box of donuts under a tree and wait out a famished bear with their long guns and compound bows? Cowards." She opened the door and held it for me. Her eyes held mine over her shoulder. I followed her in.

She didn't ascend toward her flat, as I'd expected. We went down to the dank laundry instead. She bought detergent from the machine and emptied her bag into the circular mouth of a washer. I caught a coppery tang from her things.

"Did you hunt, or fish, or were you just there to entertain them?" I asked. I tried to sound idly curious rather than jealous or furious. I should have known better. She could follow two, hushed conversations simultaneously in a dark theater . We laughed a lot in those capering shadows during the previews.

She grabbed me in a presidential way. "I am not interested in other bodies just now. A friend invited me up for the weekend. It was amusing, if a little gross. You can come next time if you like. Now help me with the wash and then come upstairs and get dirty."

I don't know how she moves her hips that way. I was afraid my eyes would never roll back into place. My shoulder still smarts where she bit me.

The air was speaking fluent autumn when, a month later, we were picked up in a sleek, inky SUV and rolled toward the woods. Kevin's hands made the wheel look tiny. He worked for a private security outfit that watched over the nabobs at Rutherford. "Nessa made it sound like these characters are armed to the teeth as it is; do you have much to do?" I asked from the rather plush back seat, looking at the anaconda veins on Kevin's arms with increasing insecurity.

"They're high rollers, and most couldn't defend themselves in a pinch," said Kevin, glancing at me in the rearview as he merged onto the highway. Nessa touched my thigh and winked. "We mostly patrol the perimeter for trouble and make sure they are all safe and sound. Nessa got on with everyone swimmingly last time, as I'm sure you will. They like hanging with the peons now and then." Kevin had run a check on me just before our departure. I suppose everything was fine, though I think Kevin knows more about my search history now than he probably should.

Nessa seemed restless. We killed time chatting with Kevin, with whom she seemed to have a good rapport. They'd met at a friend's wedding, and as far as I could tell, things between them were slightly spicy but completely Platonic. Kevin said that a fellow named Frank, who ran boutique breweries cum gastro pubs all along the coast, had taken a particular shine to Nessa, in spite of the incident last time.

"The incident?" I gave Nessa a quizzical look. She shrugged and pinched my cheek like an elderly aunt trying to reassure her anxious nephew. My shoulder twinged.

"One of the cooks was doing some clandestine better living through chemistry and wandered into the woods. The wildlife is usually pretty docile, but they got after him pretty good. It was an ugly scene." Kevin touched his phone, which was sitting in a fancy cradle on the dash. Coltrane's blues filled the vehicle. He'd collected my phone and Nessa's when we climbed in. We'd get them back on Sunday morning once we'd left the site, he'd said. Standard procedure.

"That's awful!" Nessa leaned forward, genuinely alarmed. "Why didn't you say anything?!" She poked Kevin in a manner that was not entirely playful.

"I didn't want to worry you," said Kevin, "we don't track the staff too closely, or we would have been pinged as soon as he breached the perimeter of the main camp. It was a sad business, but that's what happens when you get high and walk into the trees at night. He was quite a cook. Made me a wicked, tuna melt not long ago. A real shame." We had left the highway and the road was getting a bit crude. The smell of pine was thick and green. My shoulder had begun to throb. Nessa gave me a sympathetic, concerned look.

"Everything alright?" she asked. Kevin gave me a once over via the mirror.

"Just that love bite acting up, I'm afraid." I smiled at her in a way I hoped Kevin would notice. She rubbed my belly.

"I'm sorry about that. I'll make it up to you." Kevin couldn't have liked that, so I love it.

Kevin's phone beeped. "That's perimeter. ETA 15 minutes. You know the drill, Nessa. Nessa spent the weekend as my guest last time, Larry. She made such a good impression, the members green lighted your visit this weekend. This is a private facility, maintained at considerable expense. All of the amenities are fair game for you both, but decorum with the members is important if you want to enjoy your stay. There's a hunt at 2, a trout fishing expedition at 4, and dinner will be served at 6. Any allergies or special food sensitivities, Larry?"

I really prefer Laurence, as Kevin knows. "None, Kevin. How many members are around this weekend? Is Frank here?" I squeeze Nessa's knee. She winces and gives me a twist.

"Yes, but we're thin on the ground otherwise. Frank, Talbot, the Chaneys and the Creightons, plus you two. It's a great time, Larry. The food and drink are top shelf, and these people are here to enjoy themselves. You'll see."

I wouldn't describe what we pulled into as a camp, per se. It was a gigantic "cabin" and a set of equally imposing outbuildings that could have slept a small army with ease. The grounds were maintained to blend with the forest, but in a diligently manicured way. It was a sort of highly lavish, theme park version of life in the leaves. I understood why Nessa had wanted to come back. I wasn't impressed with Kevin.

A short, bearded fellow came out of the main building and shook my hand with theatrical vigor. "You must be Larry," said the beard. "We sure took to Nessa last month. Man, did she have some sweet nothings about you to pass around! I'm so glad you could join us. Are you an outdoorsman at all, Larry?"

"He's injured, Mr. Phelps." Now that he was out of the car, I was shocked to see what a brute Kevin really is. He's the sort that would mix protein powder into communion wine.

"No kidding!' said the beard, "I'm so sorry to hear that, Larry. You should have Talbot look you over. He's so clever! Once Kevin has you sorted, come and join Talbot and me for a pint inside. He'll fix you right up, our good doctor. I brought a few kegs of a crisp, British bitter we've been working on. Nessa!"

So this is Frank, and I'm "injured Larry" for the weekend. Perfect.

Frank embraces Nessa in a way I'm not crazy about.

"Frank, I'm thrilled you've met Laurence! I didn't try to do justice to this place, but just look at his face. He's amazed. We're so looking forward to having a proper chat with all of you over dinner tonight. Thanks so much for having us!" If I didn't know better, I would be convinced that Nessa is warm for Frank's rather hirsute form.

Kevin is carrying our bags with one, steroid enhanced limb. I would not be surprised if he grabbed a vine with the other. "Right this way kids," he says, waving us toward one of the outbuildings. It is no ordinary guest house. Imagine the sort of place that a fiendish, tech billionaire with dreams of world domination would offer to a weekend visitor. Add some tasteful, rustic touches that sustain the illusion that you are in the wilderness, roughing it.

Kevin deposits our bags, gives Nessa a key card and an unnecessarily long hug and salutes in my direction. "Get that shoulder looked at, Larry. Fish are biting, and the woods on site are full of deer. It would be a shame if you were out of commission all weekend." I've never liked anyone named Kevin for long.

"Kevin's a pure and simple fascist," says Nessa, once he's well and truly gone. "I don't just mean red cap, tiki torch fascism, either. Bannon bores him. He's got a letter from Stephen Miller framed above his desk in the administrative office. No cap."

I kissed her. She is so seldom afraid to tell the truth. It's delicious. But what about these bloody lost weekends? Was she spending all of them here? With Kevin and Frank and whatever other leering letches the idle rich could take an interest in playing with?

"Look, you'd better go and have a beer with Frank and Talbot. Frank's harmless. Tickle his ear and he panics. Talbot wasn't here last time. I'd like to have my phone, but I think I remember reading that his medical advice podcast is kind of a big deal. He's sort of a handsome daddy who can talk you through an anxiety attack. Come back here quickly so we can make fun of them." She pats me in a way that should be reserved for good dogs.

When I turn up at the main building, Frank and Talbot are well into their cups. Talbot does look familiar. I think my father sent me a link when I complained about a lingering headache. Grey hair that is so dignified that it seems implausible. He waves me over.

"Let's have a look, Larry! Just open your shirt like that, as they say on Onlyfans."

I laughed while he patched me up. He asked about the age of the bite, and if I'd cleaned it up myself (I clapped some hydrogen peroxide on it, though I was enjoying myself too much to do it very promptly) and so forth. Frank prattled on about his beer and insisted that I try some. It was superb. I'm not kidding. I had pretty obvious reasons to dislike his beer, but I couldn't. A really good bitter reminds you that you can't compete with it, no matter how disgruntled you are. Talbot gave me an injection.

"You know we're stingy with antibiotics these days, Larry. The bacteria study everything we throw at them and come up with ways to embarrass us right away. That's a rare vintage I just gave you, and should probably address anything that's messing with you. Your bite looks a bit angry, but I don't think you have a serious infection. Human bites can be serious. Frank says Nessa likes to talk dirty now and then. She got you good."

Talbot clinks my glass as I straighten up. Frank pours more beer. The main building is enormous and trying desperately to keep up the illusion that it's intimate and unassuming. Lots of wood and stone. Minimal, tasteful, smugly expensive.

"Why do you bring peasants like us here, gentlemen?" I take a long pull of the bitter, which I do not regret.

"We've started to bore each other a bit, Larry," says the beard. "The Chaneys and I got the place started, and the Creightons hunted with the Chaneys, so they were on board in no time. Talbot came aboard about five years ago, though he's not here as often as we'd like!" He pours Talbot another. Beer is Frank's love language. He's got the figure to prove it.

Talbot deftly puts the only, rebellious hair on his head back in its place and grins. "You can imagine that I've told Frank most of my best stories a few times by now, Larry. I mean, we eat together all the time, we go out there and scare things that would prefer to be left alone for sport, we do what we can to stir the embers with our significant others; like my marriage, the place seems pretty but tedious to us, most of the time. Visitors give us new life."

Frank has a loud laugh, and he's half cut. "My grandmother used to say that only the boring get bored. Then she would give me something to do and scold me through it," he says.

Talbot drains his glass. "There's wisdom in that! That's why we're happy to bring interesting characters like you into the mix now and then, Larry. So we can't be bored or boring. Nessa stole the show last weekend. You're on deck," he looks into my eyes the way only doctors should, "so go take a nap and join us for dinner." Frank gets up and insists upon opening the door for me. He smells like a beer disguised as a man.

I'm a bit unsteady from the drinks and the weird conversation, so Nessa bundles me up and shuts off the light and won't hear any objections. The dream comes on right away.

I'm in the dark and running. It feels like panicked flight, but I realize I'm hunting. The urgency is mad. It's as if I'll get whatever, or whoever it is, if it's the last thing I do. Then I burst through the leaves, and the moon is all I can see. It promises to make me stronger and faster and more perfect than I have any right to be. I feel it in my hair and skin, like the tolling of a bell. There isn't any difference between me and the running. My nose is like a monk at an orgy: into everything at once, and fat with bliss. I can pronounce the name of every blade of grass.

"Laurence," says Nessa, as she gently massages the unharmed shoulder. "Come and eat with us. You're ready."

I think Talbot gave me more than he took credit for. Coming round, I can smell this room the same way I smelled the dream. Nessa's mood is scandalously good, and it's an aroma coming from her. The sheets are clean, but there are signs in them still that the previous occupant has diabetes. The air is so full of information, I could scroll through it. I could click like mad at the trees and the stones and the rabbits. Phones smell confused. You wouldn't believe the rabbits. The cook whose work you loved most as a child happens to show up and make you lunch, while telling you a sweet story about a lost child finding home. That's the feeling the smell of a rabbit poured through me, and there wasn't one close enough to see.

I could see Nessa, though. Honestly, it looked to me as if her body had remembered what it was supposed to be. I know I should have been scared or disgusted, but I felt like she was telling me the whole truth for the first time. Apply the kind of state of the art, CGI wolf magic that is generally reserved for elite actors to the beautiful woman who invited you to go away for the weekend. She was the monster I had always been looking for.

I didn't have to look down to know that I was in the same shape, and eager to reach Nessa. We have no concept of real health. My body was not the inconvenient receptacle that held my mind, anymore. I wasn't afraid. At all. Of anything. That's how you spell real safety.

"Frank and Talbot liked you fine. They've got a treat for you." Her voice was perfectly clear and seemed to be intended for my ear alone, like the music of an instrument you watched being made. Her teeth had changed, and her jaw, but it didn't seem to matter at all. Then I realized that her mouth wasn't moving.

"Is everyone like us?" I had only to think it. Safety and intimacy. I was learning so much.

"Just the members, and you, and me."

"Kevin?" I was out of the bed and beside her, on all fours, the moment I wanted to be.

She nuzzled me. I wanted her to do it again.

"Kevin hit on me, quite predictably, just after you fell asleep. I let him think we have plans that involve nudity. He'll be just beyond the periphery, without his devices, in about an hour. There are two other guards, but Talbot dosed them. The other members find Kevin vulgar and abrasive. They put a premium on hospitality and good manners."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I feel like all of my nerves are strings being drawn taught before a note is played. My teeth are aching for a challenge.

"Yes, love. We'll all have Kevin tonight. It's much more fun when they know how to run."

"But isn't he our ride?" I ask, because I can't help myself.

She tells everyone once we're in the trees. They howl.

I get to him first.

I get the hang of it right away. He can't believe my speed, or how sharp my teeth have become. We're all red and full in no time.