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THE RED SCARF.
As long as I wear the red scarf, you’ll have nothing to fear, death will never touch you, and I will love you forever, she said.
New Orleans; 1975. Judas K. Palmer III was perfectly healthy and did not fear easily. A third generation surgeon could not afford to be anything less. Yet, the smell of her skin, the softness of her hair and…the warning, lingered with Judas as he rested his head upon the pillow. An old gypsy curse perhaps. Judas never believed in curses. His logic was based in reality and science; at least up until a week ago. Her name was Lady Azriel; a twenty one year old gypsy woman. She was the fairest, most seductive and mysterious of all God’s creation. She promised to stay with him for the weekend, but where had she gone? The only memory left from last night, were the red scarf, her fee for services rendered and her clothing. The scent of Jasmine filled the room. It certainly was not a dream, Judas thought to himself. If it were, he would curse the creator for the rest of his days for waking him. Falling in love with a gypsy whore was something the doctor never imagined could happen. By all accounts the idea bordered acute lunacy, for the doctor was a professional. Alas, the night shift at the hospital had begun to take its toll. Coming home became a living hell. As a successful healer in his early fifties, his luck was for the worst with women. But Lady Azriel was different; she loved him. She loved him with lust, tenderness, sweat and blood. Her red scarf and sexy accent haunted his dreams more than he would like to admit.
As long as I wear the red scarf, you’ll have nothing to fear, death will never touch you, and I will love you forever, she said.
Just weeks ago the scarf served as a beacon. He could find his gypsy queen anywhere in the city. But tonight, it served as a tormentor of souls and a cruel riddle. Judas never understood his lover’s infatuation with the scarf. She rarely parted with it, and certainly never in his presence. But there it was. Many nights he made love to her. He playfully would accuse her of having no heart. Why, your as pale as a ghost my dear, laughing themselves to tears. His smooth and manicured hands firmly gripping her breasts as his tongue danced across her naked skin. Often times he attempted to remove the red scarf, only to be met with denial. It was as if her very life depended on it; but why? I’m behaving like a school boy, Judas laughed. Although he tried to hide his worry, fear was beginning to overwhelm him.
As long as I wear the red scarf, you’ll have nothing to fear, death will never touch you, and I will love you forever, she said.
Just last winter, romance would only prove to be a waist of time. Work, work and more work. Life revolved around the scientific studies of brain activity of the deceased; life after death. Secretly, his research was beginning to convince him in the practicality, and possibility of heaven and hell. And though he tried to fight it with every logical and rational explanation, the facts were facts. Just don’t tell the committee.
It was at this moment when Lady Azriel entered into life of Dr. Judas K. Palmer III. Her intoxicating laugh, sweet perfume and seductive emerald colored eyes, commanded his obedience. Love happened almost instantly. At first glance Judas thought he had seen an angel. Only angels traditionally do not sell their bodies to be ravaged by men. Much less submit them selves to physical abuse or give oral pleasures of the superb kind. But without warning, love had found its way into the doctor’s heart. And for the first time in his life, he had grown quite well with it.
The city outside the hotel began to grow quite, and the silence beyond the door was bordering insanity. The romance is over, Judas thought to himself. I’ve uttered despicable things in my sleep, and she overheard me. Perhaps the name of his wife, or other hateful words had driven her away. The thought of calling out to someone else while sleeping, caused the doctor’s stomach to turn. He quickly dashed towards the hotel balcony window, emptying his stomach twenty stories below. How I could have been so careless, he thought. Yearning burned within his chest. The thought of the end, sent a chill up his spine. Please God, Judas pleaded.
The red scarf still remained.
God had answered his prayers. Surely his lustful demon had left him, but the scarf had once again, served as a beacon. Lady Azriel would return to reclaim what was rightfully hers. He would have one more chance to see her, and explain why he was born a Muppet.
Thunder and lightning struck with viral intensity and Judas lit the last of the three candles. Hurricane Stacy was underway. What was only hours, felt like days.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
Finally, she had arrived. Judas was at a loss for words as his heart raced and pulse quickened. What would he say? How would he react? Would he embrace her within his arms and make love to her on the floor? Or would he scold her and beat her like the whore she was? Judas hid the empty wine bottles under the bed. Calming himself, he answered the door.
The storm had caused more damage than first realized, and the entire city was covered in darkness. You filthy whore!, Judas screamed. Lady Azriel kneeled on the floor, drenched in rain and sadness. Judas, tender Judas, said Azriel. Will you return my scarf to me? How could he deny her? He was a slave to her every whim. Just for the asking, he would castrate the Pope without hesitation. Judas rushed to the pillow where Azriel slept. Do you expect me to search my way through dark hallways, she said. Bring me my scarf. Judas held the red scarf in his hands. He so desperately wanted her; to taste her, to smell her, to love her again. I need a drink, said Judas confidently. The doctor’s imagination sprouted on majestic wings. He imagined his fingertips dancing across Azriels’ spine as he embraced her soft breasts within his mouth. Come and join me on the bed, gypsy, said Judas. Suddenly, Azriel stood to her feet.
As long as I wear the red scarf, you’ll have nothing to fear, death will never touch you, and I will love you forever, she said.
Do you remember my words?, asked Azriel. A feeling of despair came over Judas. The love affair was over and the feeling of depression came over him. Jealousy and rage lied just beneath the surface. How could she be so selfish? He doted upon this gypsy whore. Judas couldn’t help but feel foolish for falling for someone so young. His father; Judas K. Palmer II always said there were two types of people you never trust; the French, and the gypsies. But it was not his fault. Lady Azriel seduced him, and the good doctor was powerless to stop her. Reaching beneath his pillow, Judas embraced his trusty scalpel.
Creeping towards the unsuspecting Azriel, gloom filled the air. This was not the first time that blood would cover the doctor’s hands. But for the first time in his life, he would operate for love, not for money. As the bitter flashes of lightning scattered across the sky, the beautiful Lady Azriel stood in wait. What was she waiting for and why didn’t she enter the hotel?, Judas wondered. As he drew closer, his heart was suddenly wrought with fear.
The red scarf! Of course! Standing face to face with what could only be described as evil, Lady Azriel was no longer herself. Her true nature had surfaced. The mysterious gypsy was no more and the Doctor finally had his proof.
Judas grabbed his heart in his chest and fell to the floor. As the world began to fade, a feeling of loneliness swept over him. The question of life after death, no longer weighed upon his mind. Lady Azriel took the red scarf from the doctor’s grasp, and placed it and her beautiful gypsy head beneath her arms.
A tear drop ran down the doctor’s cheek as he watched the naked corpse disappear into hurricane Stacy. The time was twelve o’ clock, midnight. And Dr. Palmer would be late for work.
Created and Written by; Marty Mcmasters
Thank you for reading.
New Orleans; 1975. Judas K. Palmer III was perfectly healthy and did not fear easily. A third generation surgeon could not afford to be anything less. Yet, the smell of her skin, the softness of her hair and…the warning, lingered with Judas as he rested his head upon the pillow. An old gypsy curse perhaps. Judas never believed in curses. His logic was based in reality and science; at least up until a week ago. Her name was Lady Azriel; a twenty one year old gypsy woman. She was the fairest, most seductive and mysterious of all God’s creation. She promised to stay with him for the weekend, but where had she gone? The only memory left from last night, were the red scarf, her fee for services rendered and her clothing. The scent of Jasmine filled the room. It certainly was not a dream, Judas thought to himself. If it were, he would curse the creator for the rest of his days for waking him. Falling in love with a gypsy whore was something the doctor never imagined could happen. By all accounts the idea bordered acute lunacy, for the doctor was a professional. Alas, the night shift at the hospital had begun to take its toll. Coming home became a living hell. As a successful healer in his early fifties, his luck was for the worst with women. But Lady Azriel was different; she loved him. She loved him with lust, tenderness, sweat and blood. Her red scarf and sexy accent haunted his dreams more than he would like to admit.
As long as I wear the red scarf, you’ll have nothing to fear, death will never touch you, and I will love you forever, she said.
Just weeks ago the scarf served as a beacon. He could find his gypsy queen anywhere in the city. But tonight, it served as a tormentor of souls and a cruel riddle. Judas never understood his lover’s infatuation with the scarf. She rarely parted with it, and certainly never in his presence. But there it was. Many nights he made love to her. He playfully would accuse her of having no heart. Why, your as pale as a ghost my dear, laughing themselves to tears. His smooth and manicured hands firmly gripping her breasts as his tongue danced across her naked skin. Often times he attempted to remove the red scarf, only to be met with denial. It was as if her very life depended on it; but why? I’m behaving like a school boy, Judas laughed. Although he tried to hide his worry, fear was beginning to overwhelm him.
As long as I wear the red scarf, you’ll have nothing to fear, death will never touch you, and I will love you forever, she said.
Just last winter, romance would only prove to be a waist of time. Work, work and more work. Life revolved around the scientific studies of brain activity of the deceased; life after death. Secretly, his research was beginning to convince him in the practicality, and possibility of heaven and hell. And though he tried to fight it with every logical and rational explanation, the facts were facts. Just don’t tell the committee.
It was at this moment when Lady Azriel entered into life of Dr. Judas K. Palmer III. Her intoxicating laugh, sweet perfume and seductive emerald colored eyes, commanded his obedience. Love happened almost instantly. At first glance Judas thought he had seen an angel. Only angels traditionally do not sell their bodies to be ravaged by men. Much less submit them selves to physical abuse or give oral pleasures of the superb kind. But without warning, love had found its way into the doctor’s heart. And for the first time in his life, he had grown quite well with it.
The city outside the hotel began to grow quite, and the silence beyond the door was bordering insanity. The romance is over, Judas thought to himself. I’ve uttered despicable things in my sleep, and she overheard me. Perhaps the name of his wife, or other hateful words had driven her away. The thought of calling out to someone else while sleeping, caused the doctor’s stomach to turn. He quickly dashed towards the hotel balcony window, emptying his stomach twenty stories below. How I could have been so careless, he thought. Yearning burned within his chest. The thought of the end, sent a chill up his spine. Please God, Judas pleaded.
The red scarf still remained.
God had answered his prayers. Surely his lustful demon had left him, but the scarf had once again, served as a beacon. Lady Azriel would return to reclaim what was rightfully hers. He would have one more chance to see her, and explain why he was born a Muppet.
Thunder and lightning struck with viral intensity and Judas lit the last of the three candles. Hurricane Stacy was underway. What was only hours, felt like days.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
Finally, she had arrived. Judas was at a loss for words as his heart raced and pulse quickened. What would he say? How would he react? Would he embrace her within his arms and make love to her on the floor? Or would he scold her and beat her like the whore she was? Judas hid the empty wine bottles under the bed. Calming himself, he answered the door.
The storm had caused more damage than first realized, and the entire city was covered in darkness. You filthy whore!, Judas screamed. Lady Azriel kneeled on the floor, drenched in rain and sadness. Judas, tender Judas, said Azriel. Will you return my scarf to me? How could he deny her? He was a slave to her every whim. Just for the asking, he would castrate the Pope without hesitation. Judas rushed to the pillow where Azriel slept. Do you expect me to search my way through dark hallways, she said. Bring me my scarf. Judas held the red scarf in his hands. He so desperately wanted her; to taste her, to smell her, to love her again. I need a drink, said Judas confidently. The doctor’s imagination sprouted on majestic wings. He imagined his fingertips dancing across Azriels’ spine as he embraced her soft breasts within his mouth. Come and join me on the bed, gypsy, said Judas. Suddenly, Azriel stood to her feet.
As long as I wear the red scarf, you’ll have nothing to fear, death will never touch you, and I will love you forever, she said.
Do you remember my words?, asked Azriel. A feeling of despair came over Judas. The love affair was over and the feeling of depression came over him. Jealousy and rage lied just beneath the surface. How could she be so selfish? He doted upon this gypsy whore. Judas couldn’t help but feel foolish for falling for someone so young. His father; Judas K. Palmer II always said there were two types of people you never trust; the French, and the gypsies. But it was not his fault. Lady Azriel seduced him, and the good doctor was powerless to stop her. Reaching beneath his pillow, Judas embraced his trusty scalpel.
Creeping towards the unsuspecting Azriel, gloom filled the air. This was not the first time that blood would cover the doctor’s hands. But for the first time in his life, he would operate for love, not for money. As the bitter flashes of lightning scattered across the sky, the beautiful Lady Azriel stood in wait. What was she waiting for and why didn’t she enter the hotel?, Judas wondered. As he drew closer, his heart was suddenly wrought with fear.
The red scarf! Of course! Standing face to face with what could only be described as evil, Lady Azriel was no longer herself. Her true nature had surfaced. The mysterious gypsy was no more and the Doctor finally had his proof.
Judas grabbed his heart in his chest and fell to the floor. As the world began to fade, a feeling of loneliness swept over him. The question of life after death, no longer weighed upon his mind. Lady Azriel took the red scarf from the doctor’s grasp, and placed it and her beautiful gypsy head beneath her arms.
A tear drop ran down the doctor’s cheek as he watched the naked corpse disappear into hurricane Stacy. The time was twelve o’ clock, midnight. And Dr. Palmer would be late for work.
Created and Written by; Marty Mcmasters
Thank you for reading.
Views: 7
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Comment by Marty McMasters on July 14, 2009 at 10:34pm -
To edit your own work is devine. To have your editor do it for you is Spartan. lol
M.
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