Sosoni Ch. 04

Charles rose and went to the woman. He put his hands on her shoulders. "This is Sosoni, don't you see? This is her. She's alive!"

Deborah said my name.

I turned to her.

She said, "Do you think you're dead?"

I reached up to my temple, feeling the place. "I...uh...yeah. I shot myself in the head at Sosoni's pond."

Deborah's eyes shifted toward Charles's.

I said, "I saw my body there—well, I didn't actually see it. I didn't want to look at it and wake up, you know?"

They didn't respond.

"But, it was there," I finished.

Charles took the woman's hand and walked her over to me. "You're not dead, old friend. You're confused. You're alive. This is Sosoni. She's just...she cut her hair off so that she wouldn't be recognized."

I stared at the woman.

"You were right," Charles exclaimed. "She came back to you."

"Wait," Deborah said, and she left the room. She returned with my phone, and she opened the messages. She played one.

"If you get this, old friend, you've got to call me, please! She's alive and she's here! Sosoni is here! She came to our house today—to Deborah! I can't believe it! Wait...let me call you back."

She played another message.

"Listen: Sosoni wasn't coming through the woods to find you. She fooled them all! Cut her hair off and got rides to McCall. No one recognized her with the short hair! Everyone searched the mountains looking for her, but she fooled them. Reason it took so long is because she didn't know how to get here—where to find you. She got driven all over heck and gone before...hang on, let me call you back."

Deborah scrolled to the next message, watching me with tears forming in her eyes.

"Me, again. She saw her story on some news segment up in Coeur D'Alene. She heard the name McCall and she remembered our names. Some truck driver helped her find our home. It's just...she's here, thank goodness. She's alive. She's safe, and she's here. You've got to call me when you get this. We love you, old friend. Sosoni does, too."

The last message was Sosoni's voice. She said my name. She said to come home in her broken English. She said something else I couldn't quite make out.

The short-haired woman had said the same thing to me earlier.

Charles pleaded, "Don't you see now?"

The woman took my hand.

I looked at her.

I let go of her, walked into the bedroom, and shut the door.

This was a trick. This was how hell tormented you—by giving you your dreams and yanking them away.

"No," I said.

I was not going to fall into the trap.

I pulled that fucking trigger.

The words sounded right in my mind. I turned to the door and hollered, "I pulled that fucking trigger, Charles!"

No one responded, and I stalked my bedroom.

The door opened. The woman slipped inside and closed it behind her.

I stopped and watched her.

She came to me, and she undressed me. Then, she slipped out of her clothing. She drew close, put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me. Her lips were soft and wet.

She drew back and led me by the hands toward the bed. She pulled my head toward her bare breasts, and I sucked on her nipples.

Her hand slid down my stomach, through my hairs, and grasped my budding erection.

My fingers found her wetness and rubbed.

She sighed with pleasure.

When I was fully hard, she laid back on the bed.

I climbed over her. We kissed. She smiled.

There was something.

When she smiled, her eyes drew up and the corners of her mouth down. That was...

We stared at one another from about six inches apart.

"Oh. Oh, my gosh," I muttered. "Sosoni?"

"Sosoni. Yuh-oo Sosoni," she responded breathlessly.

I lowered my hips, and the tip of my erection nuzzled between her labia. Heat and wetness met it there.

It was her. It was Sosoni.

I kissed her deeply, and then I said, "Will you be my wife?"

"Why-uff?"

"Like Charles and Deborah. You and me, together forever. Wife."

"Meh-ry? Why-uff?"

"Yes. Marry. Wife."

"Yes. Yuh-oo why-uff. For-eff-er."

"Forever," I repeated.

She whispered, "Aye-uh luff yuh-oo."

"I love you, too, Sosoni."

She smiled, more broadly now.

I pressed our bodies together and drove myself inside.

Sosoni gasped.

Her hymen ruptured completely, and my penis slowly sank home.

Her hands clutched me. Her face appeared torn between bliss and agony.

I said, "Sosoni."

She looked at me. She uttered, "Yes. Yes. Yes."

Our bodies mashed together. I was fully seated in her.

She gasped, looking at me with amazement. I was her hero again. I was her miracle man.

I drew back and brought us together. Before long, she joined the motion. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her hands held my hips. Her body rocked with me.

She cried out repeatedly and forcefully. Her climax seemed to reverberate through the entire house. I followed close behind, and at the moment her screams diminished, my erection began to throb inside of her. She moaned, and her eyes caught mine. Her eyes showed me she knew my semen—my magic medicine—was filling her up.

With a final, deep thrust, I pushed us together, held in place for several seconds, and then my body gave way. I pulled out and fell on my back beside her.

If she would have me, I thought, I wanted her for life.

How had I not known that it was her?

Some time later, Sosoni and I emerged from my room. Charles and Deborah were thrilled to have me back-to have us back, together.

***

I don't know if it was the cold, the loneliness, malnutrition, or grief, but I lost my mind out there.

And I almost killed myself.

I found the pistol the next spring. One round had been fired. The casing lay a few feet away. In the frigid cold of that insane day, had I missed? Had I passed out the moment I finally mustered the strength to squeeze the trigger?

I came damn close. Terrifyingly close. So close that when I wake up in the dark of night, it haunts me.

But, I didn't do it.

Strange thing is, Sosoni found me out there lying in the snow because she heard the shot.

In the days and years that followed, there were times I doubted the truth of it. It still felt too good; it had to be a dream. I sometimes wondered if that bullet really did plunge through my brain. Are these dreams, I thought, a final gift from the few neurons still firing as my blood turns the snow red and freezes?

I decided to accept what I've been given, whether it's a dream or reality.

Sosoni and I have four children now. Two girls and two boys. Sosoni is an incredible mother—fiercely and gently loving. Charles and Deborah love them like their own grandchildren.

We built a burial plot to the north of our house. In it, there are three sets of remains and three gravestones marked Tonjakida, Okoweney, and Tonjadika the Younger. Upon the gate is mounted the skull of a grizzly bear with a small caliber bullet hole in its temple.

At least once a year, I tell our children the story of their grandparents and their uncle. Then, Sosoni tells them the story of the bear killer.

When Sosoni wants me, she pulls me aside, kneels under me, and coaxes my semen free with her mouth.

When I want her, I carry her to our bed, draw her legs apart, and pleasure her with my tongue and fingers until she can barely move from the orgasms.

When Sosoni needs me—needs the bear killer—she flashes me her bottom and leaves the room. I seek her out, and when I find her, she bends over to be devoured and impaled, and she is only satisfied when she feels my essence inside her guts.

When the bear killer needs her, I paw her bottom and pull her to the nearest place where I can spin her around, prepare her, and drive myself into her. I stalk away while she collects the fluids leaking out of her bottom and down the insides of her thighs.

When she loves me, she sits on my lap, facing me. She kisses me until she feels my hardness under her body. Then she waits to be carried to our bedroom. She lays on her back and spreads her legs; she slaps the bed for me to hurry up and get undressed.

When I love her, I brush her new crop of long hair. I kiss the back of her neck. I nuzzle her there, tickling her with the spiky little hairs of my beard until she giggles. Then, I take her hand and we run to bed, laughing.

When the first warm day of spring comes, we leave the kids for a few hours and drive out to the little pond near her old cave. Sosoni likes to feed the fish.

*****

Errors herein belong to me. Thanks for reading! -FS