Love In The Time of Intrusion

Part 4 Hugh Cooke

"Pig!" Sophia said. "What a pig. Emilia is so boring too. He is going to go to college, and he won't be able to hide his piggish ways. Tonight it is not about him."

  The L'Hôtel de la Noix Cassée was like a beautiful statuesque woman with somber black eyes and missing teeth, in need of a bath, but one could still see the beauty through the decay. They entered the somewhat dilapidated lobby with fading brownish and cherry wallpaper. A cute redhead with a wooden leg and a heavyset blonde sat at a makeshift table, accepting ticket money. The large, heavy oak ballroom doors were propped open, a white light escaping the ballroom and exciting the dust particles in the lobby, making them move in rapid motion.

  The ballroom looked as it did 50 years ago. It was as if someone found it so beautiful, full of valuable secrets, they had locked it up, untouched. To see the pristine condition of the ballroom, one would not believe the wild stories of a famous noble prince riding an elephant drunk and high on cocaine or of a duchess plotting their husband's assassination as she tried to cling to the arms of her swinging Russian acrobat lover. The floor was stained cherry wood that made a C minor creaking noise, the walls were painted light blue with gold leaf gilding. The ceiling was also gold-plated with a giant crystal chandelier that had some 20 sidelights. There was a slight smell of mildew, but it was muted by coffee, cigarettes, sweat, and a dizzying amount of pheromones. The party was alive with a tidal wave of British and French dress uniforms of the soldiers and a splash of colorful dresses.

  Annalissa was overcome with nausea. It could have been the wall of heat that hit her once she entered the ballroom, or the strong body odor and plethora of French perfumes. It could have been the aggressive nature of the soldiers, grabbing at the girls like they were ragdolls, or the loud jazz that reverberated through the walls. She felt her heart race and her head spin. She looked for Sophia, who had been swept away in the gray-blue sea as soon as they entered the room, now several meters from her, head tilted up, flirting with two French soldiers.

  "Why did she want me here?" Annalissa thought.

  She navigated through the overheated crowd to the sanctuary of the snack table, an ancient marble table inlaid with gold leaflets. Crackers and cheese plates, fruit, croissants, macarons, and madeleines adorned the table. In the middle was an enormous crystal goblet three feet tall in the shape of a sleeping swan, filled with spiked chilled punch. She read the handwritten index card in front of the bowl. The punch was made with wine, brandy, rum, and oranges.

She could feel eyes on her. She looked up from her snack inventorying and immediately regretted it. It was a short British fellow shaped like a fridge. He had short dark hair and dark eyes, his skin was pox-scarred, and his mouth drooped on each side, causing a permanent wrinkle on each side of his lip.

   Her eyes made the mistake of meeting his. His eyes did not blink and were now emboldened. His eyes continued to burn into her as she made an exit plan. She could run for the ladies' room as fast as she could and wait, wait for minutes until he imagined her doing something disgusting. He would track another hungry, hapless female.

     He was fast. She didn't make it far. He swept her up with sweaty paws.

  "Care to dance?" His hands were on her shoulders. She looked around for help, but she could only catch a brief glimpse of Sophia's sweeping red dress on the other side of the ballroom.

   "Um... Well, I suppose one dance, but I have... a pretty full dance card," she said, without smiling.

  "One dance, and I will return you..." He said as he boxed her in, putting his hands around her waist. She put his hands on his shoulders with hesitation. "My name is Ed," he said with confidence that Annalissa both admired and found frightening. "Edward Stilldon. 2nd Infantry. British Expeditionary Force. Each word he spoke shot spittles out of his yellow-tinted teeth. "What is your name?" he asked as his hands started to slide down to her butt. She pushed away from him, and he pulled her closer until she felt like she would gag. He smelled overwhelmingly like unwashed feet. "I don't want to dance with you anymore," she said with disgust, as she removed her hands from his shoulders and used them to push him away.