Heart's Desire

Chapter 12

Something wet touched his face. Water. Jesse's tong jetted out of his mouth and sucked the moister off his face. He was not quite awake yet, not totally anyway. The back of his hear hurt. He could tell that he was all wet. They must have used water to wake him up. But how could that be? His mind asked his body. Was he back at home? Did he make it out of the forest into the light were there was real water. His eyes opened in anticipation. Red light eliminated the gloom around him. The light burnt his eyes. It was not that it was that bright. It was more the color of the light. Like he was looking strait at the sun with his eyes closed, except his eyes were open and there was no sun.

His eyes must have gotten use to his own inner light illuminating the world around him. This was too bright. It blinded him. He wanted to close his eyes again, but he still needed to see how he had come to be soaked in water. He settled on squinting instead. Shapes blurred in and out of his vision. Red blobs slowly formed into read shadows. He reached up to try and rub his eyes so you could see better, but he would that his hands were tied behind his back.

Great, just great he thought. He did not want to blink. He knew that if he did he might fall back into the darkness. He did not want that. He wanted to see. He wanted to know what was going on.

"Hey look Moe," said someone to his left. "He's starting to wake up."

Jesse tried to turn towards the voice but he found he could not do that either. His feet were also shackled. It was very inconvenient being tied up like this. It made it nearly impossible to do anything. He could not move, he could not rub his eyes. The truth of the matter was he was stuck but to what? His mind asked. His hands felt around his back to try to find out the answer. They meant cold stone. He followed the stone with the contours of his hand. His fingers traced lines of mortar. The edge of the stone that met the mortor sliced into the tip of his right index finger as he traced the lines. A tiny pain shot through his hand and then disappeared among his other aches and pains.

That was weird he thought. None of the other cuts or scrapes had hurt overly much. The nothingness must be less there. That had to be it.

He wiped the bloody finger on the back of his pants as best he could. He did not want to loose any more liquid than was necessary. His lips were still dry and cracked even after the little bit of water he had licked off his face. His current state of bondage told him that he was not going to find refuge with these people.

A voice brought him back from his own troubles.

"I told the water would work," said someone else. Jesse recognized this voice. It was the voice of the man that had captured him. Jesse shuddered at the memory. He hated to be in the dark and this man had forced it on him. When would this all end? The back of his head was still painful. It was not fair at all.

The other man spoke "I know, I know. Water work every time." The two men said the last fraise in unison.

"Well it does," said Moe.

"So, should I go get the boss?" asked the other man.

"No, I'll go get the boss. I captured him," said Moe.

"But I tired him up!" said the other man. Jesse could sense the argument brewing.

"I didn't have to include you! I could have taken all the credit for myself," said Moe.

Jesse heard a crack. It was followed by a thump and then some body rolled into him. The force of the role pushed him up against the wall. His face was scratched in multiple places. Blood oozed for the cuts. One of the men, he could not tell which, must have been on top the other one throwing punches. Jesse could hear the thwack thwack of fists hitting flesh. He could not see anything. He was pinned under the guy that was getting beat to a pulp. Each time a punch landed Jesse got pushed in one direction or another along the wall. His hands were still tied behind his back making it impossible for him to protect his face even if he had found a way to un pin him. The blood stung his eyes. He felt the pain of each cut. It should not hurt this much he thought. IT was not right that it should hurt this much, but yet it did. The sharp edges of the stone could have been a blade. By the time the man on top was done with the other man Jesse was thrashing in pain. Jesse could not see who had won for all the blood. It coated his eyes. It matted in his hair. It socked into his dry lips. Jesse used his tong to staunch the bleeding. Saliva was supposed to be a natural clotting agent. The blood tasted sweet with just a hit of a metallic twang to it.