The modern log cabins clustered at the edge of a forest, but although
the small buildings were close together the surrounding trees and
bushes gave each an appearance of isolation and serenity. Only the
brightly-lighted brick office building struck an incongruous note.
The clerk was bald, unshaven and engrossed in a pin-up girl magazine.
He looked up as we entered the office, hid the magazine, took the cigar
from his thick lips and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Got a cabin?” I inquired.
He replied with a little speech of three dozen words that said in
effect, “Yes.”
While I fumbled for my wallet, I saw him glance at Almira’s left hand
and the wedding ring that wasn’t there. He looked at me and smiled. One
of _those_ smiles. Then he looked at Almira ... really _looked_ at her
for the first time. He had difficulty taking his eyes from her.
He gave me a key and I clutched it in my palm as if it were a key to
paradise. He pronounced a number and I memorized it as if it were a
password to eternal ecstasy.
As we walked to the cabin, I was acutely conscious of every surrounding
detail, as if inner excitement had sharpened my senses abnormally. My
ears registered the crunch of our feet on gravel, the hum of tires on
the distant highway, the whispering of the wind in the trees and even
the chatter of invisible crickets. Each sound seemed distinct, almost
thunderous.
It was a small cabin.
I turned on the lights, locked the door and sat down. My knees felt
weak.
She undressed with majestic poise, and without a trace of shyness. She
was not ashamed, though I never took my eyes from her. She acted as if
it was the most natural thing in the world for her to undress before an
audience.
When she was undressed, she turned and smiled at me. The smile seemed
to say, _You may look but I’ll never let you touch me_. Her body was
unbelievably beautiful, white and voluptuously formed. My temples
started pounding.
I found myself thinking, _I don’t want you. I love my wife. I don’t
know why I came here_....
She smiled again, turned out the lights and reclined on the bed.
And then it began.
Something left my mind and with it went _desire_. All desire for all
women. The erotic ardor drained from my mind, floated away and vanished
completely. Somehow, I knew the emotion had departed forever. I would
never be attracted to a woman again as long as I lived.
Compassion vanished as well. For a brief moment, I had felt sorry for
myself but even as I experienced the emotion, I could feel it draining
from my body like water through a sieve. All compassion for the
living--and the dead.
Sadness departed next and I knew I could never feel sad about
_anything_ again. I would be incapable of sorrow. My wife and children
could die and I would not grieve.
It rained--beat against the roof and windows and splashed on the
driveway outside the cabin.
Fear drifted away from my brain. Fear of all things--even of pain and
death. Fear of the unknown. I would never again be afraid of anything.
And because of that, for the briefest instant, I felt _proud_. Then
pride itself slipped from my mental fingers, and a numbness took its
place.
One by one, my human emotions slipped away into the dark night to some
unknown, unimaginable destination. I could feel them going one by one:
little emotions, and big, overpowering ones, and some so elusive they
seemed scarcely emotions at all.
I tried to rise from the chair and discovered that my legs had become
paralyzed, useless. Hate grew within me like a raging inferno. Anger at
the unknown thing that was stealing my most precious possessions.
The rain stopped.