Kidnap, Part 11

Kidnap
slimv2001@yahoo.com
Part 11   

Peter propped him self against the pillows and pulled up the silk sheets to
cover his nakedness.  He listened to the water run as his wife showered in
the bathroom.  He wondered if she could clean away at least some of her
stench.

An open pack of Pall Malls lay on her nightstand and he picked it up and read
the Surgeon General's warning.  He put the pack to his nose and sniffed.
There was nothing bad about the way unlit tobacco smelled.  

How could she do it? He wondered.  How could she put these filthy things in
her mouth and bring her self to light them, much less inhale them afterwards?
He thought of his mother and her smoking.  She smoked Winstons.  He had tried
them once when he was 14.  He remembered how awful they smelled once he lit
them and how terrible they tasted on his tongue.  Oh how they had made him
cough and gag.  He promised himself he would never smoke again after that.
He looked closely at the pack of his wife's Pall Malls and thought about his
mother's Winstons.  These must be even more wretched than mom's he thought.
No filter.  They have to be bad for her.

His mind drifted back to the time when he was 14.  The Winstons.  Why had he
tried them in the first place?  Don't kid your self.  You know why you tried
it.  He had just blocked the memories until now.

He thought smoking was pretty cool back then.  It didn't bother him that his
mother smoked.  In fact he liked it.  He remembered how pretty she looked
when she was younger, holding a lit Winston and puffing on it.  He remembered
his mother's friends.  A lot of them smoked and he loved to watch.  They were
so pretty... so sophisticated.

It embarrassed him to think of it now, but he had really wanted to be a
smoker- just like his mother.  He looked at the pack of Pall Malls in his
hand and shook his head.  He had been stupid enough to think his mother would
be pleased when she found out he smoked.  He thought she would welcome him
with open arms.  Join the club son.  

Goosebumps rose on his flesh as he remembered the pain and humiliation he
endured.  His mother had cut him to shreds with her harsh words.  What had
she said as if he could ever forget?  She called him stupid.  That was
probably the nicest thing she said.  She called him trash and told him that
he disgusted her.  Oh yes she was ashamed and embarrassed to have a child who
smoked cigarettes.  Why?

It would be years before he heard the term "Conditional love" and learned
what it meant as it applied to his relationship with his mother.  His mother
wouldn't love him if he smoked.  Why?  What was so wrong about it?  Why was
he so trashy and disgusting for doing something she did?  Her attitude
confused him to this day.

Not long after she caught him he learned her disgust of young smokers wasn't
confined to her immediate family.  She prohibited him from dating girls who
smoked.  She wouldn't allow him to be friends with kids that smoked.
According to her, those kids were bad and trashy.  

What would his mother think of Linda now?  For that matter, what did he think
about her?

Peter was lost in thought and bad memories.  He didn't hear the water turn
off.  He didn't hear the shower door open as Linda stepped out and dried her
self in front of the mirror.  As soon as her hands were dry enough to hold a
cigarette she lit up.  It was the first time she'd ever seen her reflection
in the mirror with a cigarette.  Shame swept over her.  So this is what a
smoker looks like.  This is what Peter and Tammy see when they look at me.

She put the Pall Mall to her mouth and stared at the mirror as she inhaled
and exhaled.  She studied the cigarette between her fingers.  It was an odd
sight and she doubted she would ever get used to it.

Linda felt guilty smoking the cigarette.  She felt bad for Peter and Tammy.
They shouldn't have to live with a wife and mother that smoked.  She
shuddered when she thought of the possibility of Tammy starting.  Now that
Linda was smoking, would that encourage Tammy to try it?  The thought scared
her and she wanted to flush the cigarette down the toilet but couldn't bring
her self to sacrifice the precious stick of tobacco.  

Peter was still staring at the pack of Pall Malls in his hand.  He didn't see
his wife standing by the bathroom until she screamed.  He dropped the pack
and bolted out of bed.  "What's wrong?" he asked.

Linda stampeded him with her arms flailing.  She tried to scream but nothing
came out except coughs.  For one brief second, Peter feared she might be
choking.  And then she hit him, first on the chest and then on his face.  He
grabbed her hand in midair before she could do more damage.  "What the fuck
is wrong with you?" 

"What are you doing with my cigarettes?" she screamed as she picked the pack
off the floor and put them back on her nightstand.  "These aren't yours!
You're not supposed to touch them.  For Christ sake you weren't smoking these
were you Peter?"

Peter battled the dejavu.  "What the hell are you talking about?  I wasn't
smoking.  Where did you get an idea like that?"

Linda's shoulders slumped.  She fell apart in his arms and he held her tight
as she cried on his shoulder.  "I'm so sorry," she said.  "I don't know why
I'm acting like this.  I just saw you with those cigarettes in your hands and
it scared me.  Oh my God Peter.  I'm so sorry this happened.  I don't know
what I'd do if you or Tammy ever started."

"Well you don't have to worry about that," said Peter.  "Lets get in bed.
We've got a big day tomorrow."

Linda climbed in bed beside her husband and lit a Pall Mall.  She tried to
tell herself that she was home now.  Dr. Blacklung was thousands of miles
away.  "Are you sure you don't mind me smoking in the bedroom?" she asked.

"Of course not" he lied.  And then he kissed her, gently at first.  She
didn't pull away.  He felt welcome and kissed her harder, inserting his
tongue inside his wife's now foreign mouth.  She was repulsive but he didn't
pull away.  He held her tighter and kissed her deeper.  So this is what a
smoker tastes like.

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