Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 77.2: 1968, Georgina

"Gently," he said, peeling back my covers kindly and slowly, considerate of me. I raised my hands to him and he took them, gripping them and pulling me as I went with his direction. 

"Wait, I need the lifesaver on the chair to sit," I gasped, feeling the pain already in this pose.

"No you don't, I'm going to carry you."

I gripped his hands too hard. "You're going to what?"

"Frankie said it was easiest to carry you to put you in the chair. Did he tell you?"

"Tell me what? That its easy to put me in the chair like-"

"No, that I'm taking care of you?"

My eyes bugged at him again. What was he talking about...

"Easy, easy, easy. I got ya." With fluidity, he wrapped his arm below my thighs and behind my back and with great pain I forgot everything for a few blinding seconds as too much pressure became down below as he sat me up just a little too much on the bed. I gasped in a hitch, but it was all over in seconds as he floated me quickly to the lifesaver on the chair. I blinked rapidly once there.

Had all the men in my life always been this strong? I knew for sure that I couldn't ever carry a full grown adult. 

But before I could think much more about it, he was wheeling me out of the room and my thoughts went back to what he'd said. He wheeled me out of the kitchen and into the living room, the floor textures making different noises along the way. Around the bend, and we were at the bathroom door. 

"What did you say about 'taking care of' me?" I asked, but he was already opening the door, focused on his task. The door shrieked unpleasantly on too old hinges, making me wince. 

"I'll tell you about it later. Let me help you," he said, parking the wheelchair a little outside of the door. He slipped past me and I realized with great doubt what was about to happen. Then fear fell over me as I grasped the entirety of it.

"Wait, Sasha," I said quickly, as he scooped under my knees again and behind my back. Barely after the words were out of my mouth I was on the toilet, underwear and all. Oh god. Oh god, no wait-

Suddenly he had the edges of my underwear and I couldn't-

"NO!" I yelled, taking everything I had to not kick him in the face in his current position in my reaction. Oh god what was I doing- what were we doing-

His eyes looked fearful at me, but in a blink the expression was gone. "Are you good here?" he asked calmly. 

I was breathing too hard. I swallowed, trying to come to grips. Trying to calm myself down like he was, trying to focus and remember just who I was dealing with. It was too much. What he was doing was too much. There was a soup of feelings in me that were hard to arrange, and what he was doing-

"Oh, I'm so-rry," he said drawn out, looking at me with apologetic eyes. 

"What?" I asked, realizing the awkwardness in full, making me want to squirm. I didn't like this situation one bit. I wanted him to leave, but there was something nagging at me. Trying to tell me something.

But I didn't have to think about it for long because he told me, reminding me of just who I was dealing with. "I'm sorry, Georgina. I remember that time. I was with you, remember? Its okay... Well its not okay, but do you know what I mean? I wouldn't hurt you. You okay here? I can wait outside."

And suddenly I knew what he was referring to. It flooded in with his words, the nagging feeling becoming unconfused and showing me in full. When I was fifteen and he was seventeen, almost eighteen. Those guys. I often forgot we had been together, those men pulling down my underwear under the bridge and Sasha over there at the edge of the river calling my name in whimpers with his underwear already pulled down. I was calling his name, too. I didn't want to remember.