The Country from Hell
Trying hard to stand stoically, you shake your head in Green Bandit's direction. The train begins to pick up speed. She looks down quickly at the ground, then charges at you in a flurry of tears. She clasps you tightly, blindly kissing your left cheek, then your right, then your left again.
"I know you will come back! Please don't leave! I love you too much. What will I tell your parents? If you don't write to me, I will find you and kill you!" She staggers down the aisle and jumps clumsily off the moving train, landing in a cloud of dust as the smokestacks of Camo Casip disappear behind you.
Fritz the ugly German knocks on the compartment window, beckoning for you to rejoin them while holding up the champagne bottle in his other hand. Can't the ugly pig see that you're leaving behind all that you've ever known? You stick your head out the same window Green Bandit had been smoking at not five minutes ago. Breathing in, you imagine that you are breathing in her spirit so she will protect you on your journey. Regaining your composure, you turn back to the compartment.
No sooner have you sat awkwardly back down than the ticket inspector shoves open the compartment door and demands to see your tickets. With a shiver of panic, you realize that Green Bandit has your ticket.
"You were supposed to get off in Camo Casip," the inspector snarls at you.
"The young lady would like to stay with us for awhile," says Ponytail, still smiling his nauseating smile.
"You're not allowed to buy tickets on the train. You have to get them at the agency at least 24 hours prior to your trip."
"I see," Ponytail says, nodding slowly. He looks over to Fritz and they exchange a few hushed words in German. At Ponytail's signal, Fritz reopens his tantalizing billfold. The inspector stands still, licking his chops with glee and anticipation. Ponytail continues, "My friend here would like to pay for this young lady's passage. Here are forty euros now to ensure that they can enjoy each other's company until the border. The rest of the billfold is yours if you make sure you are the only one checking passports when we cross over. This is your lucky day, my friend!"
The inspector takes off his hat, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. He smiles like a buffoon.
"I always did like Germans! May you have a house of stone!" he chortles, smiling broadly at Fritz and even giving you a wink before slamming the door shut again.
Fritz smiles approvingly, popping open the champagne bottle and handing you a glass that seems to have materialized out of nowhere.
"To luck! And health!" Ponytail begins. "No, fuck health. Just to luck!"
The champagne tastes sour, upsetting your stomach as the train bounces roughly along. Another champagne glass is placed in your hand. This time, it goes down much more easily. A slight rain is drizzling outside the window, lulling you to sleep. In the heart of the lion's den, all you want to do is drift away.
"Tired, my lovely?" asks Ponytail. "You've got no pillow. Why don't you rest your head on Fritz's manly shoulder?"
You sit next to Fritz, tilting your cheek awkwardly against him. He reaches to stroke your hair. This is the first gentle touch you can remember since you were a very small child and your mother was still sober. You close your eyes in a sort of hypnotized ecstasy. Then Fritz's other hand travels up your bare leg. The spell breaks instantly. You bring your hand down on his with surprising force.
"Now now," admonishes Ponytail. "I know you know the way this works. If you want to get out of Iad, then you have to well be agreeable to Fritz. He is doing you a great favor. There are other pretty girls here. Prettier than you, even. You should appreciate how lucky you are that Fritz has been so bewitched by you. Now to keep him interested, I suggest you go with him to his sleeper car and demonstrate a little bit of what you Iadian sirens are best known for. Can you do that, my love? It's not so much to ask, is it? Fritz is a businessman. He wants to know exactly what he is investing in. That just makes good financial sense, right? Wouldn't you do the same? Don't look like that, little bird. He'll be very gentle, I assure you."
Just as Ponytail becomes silent again, the train pulls into a station in the middle of nowhere. You don't even recognize the name on the old wooden sign standing unevenly on the cement platform. From inside the little depot, a single yellow light shines out into the rainy gloom. For some reason, it reminds you of an old poem your mother used to read to you about a girl who falls in love with the evening star. But since they come from different worlds, their love proves impossible, and at the end she is left gazing longingly at him in the sky, just as she did in the beginning
Every nerve, every muscle, every instinct in you wants to run out to that light, to get away from the situation you knew would turn out the way it has. You turn back to Fritz. Those blue eyes are still maybe a little kind, though now they also have something wild and frighteningly desirous in them. Inside the train, it is warm and dry. Outside, you will have to brave the elements and all of the mean, tired people who stand waiting like the living dead. Do you really want that? Is it really so much to sacrifice to give a man some pleasure, in order to win so much of your own? Maybe he really is doing you a favor. Why, then, do you feel so sick? You feel the train begin to move. Again you must make the choice to
"I know you will come back! Please don't leave! I love you too much. What will I tell your parents? If you don't write to me, I will find you and kill you!" She staggers down the aisle and jumps clumsily off the moving train, landing in a cloud of dust as the smokestacks of Camo Casip disappear behind you.
Fritz the ugly German knocks on the compartment window, beckoning for you to rejoin them while holding up the champagne bottle in his other hand. Can't the ugly pig see that you're leaving behind all that you've ever known? You stick your head out the same window Green Bandit had been smoking at not five minutes ago. Breathing in, you imagine that you are breathing in her spirit so she will protect you on your journey. Regaining your composure, you turn back to the compartment.
No sooner have you sat awkwardly back down than the ticket inspector shoves open the compartment door and demands to see your tickets. With a shiver of panic, you realize that Green Bandit has your ticket.
"You were supposed to get off in Camo Casip," the inspector snarls at you.
"The young lady would like to stay with us for awhile," says Ponytail, still smiling his nauseating smile.
"You're not allowed to buy tickets on the train. You have to get them at the agency at least 24 hours prior to your trip."
"I see," Ponytail says, nodding slowly. He looks over to Fritz and they exchange a few hushed words in German. At Ponytail's signal, Fritz reopens his tantalizing billfold. The inspector stands still, licking his chops with glee and anticipation. Ponytail continues, "My friend here would like to pay for this young lady's passage. Here are forty euros now to ensure that they can enjoy each other's company until the border. The rest of the billfold is yours if you make sure you are the only one checking passports when we cross over. This is your lucky day, my friend!"
The inspector takes off his hat, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. He smiles like a buffoon.
"I always did like Germans! May you have a house of stone!" he chortles, smiling broadly at Fritz and even giving you a wink before slamming the door shut again.
Fritz smiles approvingly, popping open the champagne bottle and handing you a glass that seems to have materialized out of nowhere.
"To luck! And health!" Ponytail begins. "No, fuck health. Just to luck!"
The champagne tastes sour, upsetting your stomach as the train bounces roughly along. Another champagne glass is placed in your hand. This time, it goes down much more easily. A slight rain is drizzling outside the window, lulling you to sleep. In the heart of the lion's den, all you want to do is drift away.
"Tired, my lovely?" asks Ponytail. "You've got no pillow. Why don't you rest your head on Fritz's manly shoulder?"
You sit next to Fritz, tilting your cheek awkwardly against him. He reaches to stroke your hair. This is the first gentle touch you can remember since you were a very small child and your mother was still sober. You close your eyes in a sort of hypnotized ecstasy. Then Fritz's other hand travels up your bare leg. The spell breaks instantly. You bring your hand down on his with surprising force.
"Now now," admonishes Ponytail. "I know you know the way this works. If you want to get out of Iad, then you have to well be agreeable to Fritz. He is doing you a great favor. There are other pretty girls here. Prettier than you, even. You should appreciate how lucky you are that Fritz has been so bewitched by you. Now to keep him interested, I suggest you go with him to his sleeper car and demonstrate a little bit of what you Iadian sirens are best known for. Can you do that, my love? It's not so much to ask, is it? Fritz is a businessman. He wants to know exactly what he is investing in. That just makes good financial sense, right? Wouldn't you do the same? Don't look like that, little bird. He'll be very gentle, I assure you."
Just as Ponytail becomes silent again, the train pulls into a station in the middle of nowhere. You don't even recognize the name on the old wooden sign standing unevenly on the cement platform. From inside the little depot, a single yellow light shines out into the rainy gloom. For some reason, it reminds you of an old poem your mother used to read to you about a girl who falls in love with the evening star. But since they come from different worlds, their love proves impossible, and at the end she is left gazing longingly at him in the sky, just as she did in the beginning
Every nerve, every muscle, every instinct in you wants to run out to that light, to get away from the situation you knew would turn out the way it has. You turn back to Fritz. Those blue eyes are still maybe a little kind, though now they also have something wild and frighteningly desirous in them. Inside the train, it is warm and dry. Outside, you will have to brave the elements and all of the mean, tired people who stand waiting like the living dead. Do you really want that? Is it really so much to sacrifice to give a man some pleasure, in order to win so much of your own? Maybe he really is doing you a favor. Why, then, do you feel so sick? You feel the train begin to move. Again you must make the choice to