friend Flaviu's mom. Flaviu was
about a year or so older and thus a sixth grader while I was still in the fifth.
In spite of that, and mainly because I had a special gift for languages, his mom
actually paid me for tutoring him in French. She had always seemed a bit distant
and fragile in a blue-eyed blonde and quite angelic kind of way. I used to
believe that she was some kind of tortured soul, because of an incident I had
previously witnessed.
On a particular day, while I was picking
cherries from one of their trees, her husband who was a Cavalry Captain in the
Romanian Army came home a bit earlier than usual. While he was dismounting
from his horse, she came out to the veranda to greet him. I could not quite make
out the conversation but he sounded somewhat angry and at some point he grabbed
her, sat down on one of the benches, placed her across his knee, lifted her
skirts well over her head and proceeded to hit her ass with his sword. In as
much as this scared the shit out of me, I tried hard to become invisible or at
the least, turn into a little squirrel and hide. I couldn't quite ascertain if
the sword was in its scabbard but I later found out that it was not, and that
being a flat saber he could use it without actually cutting into things. In
retrospect, I find that my fear was quite irrelevant because what I remember
most, were the skimpy little polka-dotted bikini panties that were covering only
a small portion of her beautifully ample buttocks and the red stripes that were
forming on the backs of her thighs and on her posterior. The memory may have
been somewhat tainted by the many wet dreams that kept re-playing the incident
for me, in some of which, the panties came off and I could get a look at her
beautifully barbered pubic hair. In the reality of that moment however, he did
not notice me and after a while he took her inside and her screams became
somewhat more muffled - I of course (not necessarily a coward, you know, I was
after all 12 years old and he was a well trained, well armed military Captain)
high-tailed it out of there like an Acela express train.
All of this flashed through my mind rather
swiftly. like a video fast forward getting to a point in time about a year or so
later. It was Thursday afternoon, I had just gotten home |