Welcome to Wisconsin! - How I Met My Slavegirl (pt. 2)

We left our last installment with . . . "She'd been near despair, as she'd begin to fear that all the dire warnings and predictions she'd heard prior to her trip to visit me might have come true.  I assured her that my affection for her was very real, and that I was very much a man of my word."  Yes my dear reader, it was a real wonder that my Serafina ever made it to meet me, as a number of individuals had taken it upon themselves to prevent our meeting from ever happening.  

You see, Serafina and I did meet first online . . . 

As Serafina and I walked to the car, I very much wanted to bring up the turmoil at her website, where a battle for the very soul of what Serafina was working to accomplish had been occurring.  It was an emotional issue for us both, but it wasn't the kind of thing one discusses walking through airport concourses, at least not here in the US.

Instead, as we were greeted by a picture of a smiling Richard M. Dailey with the caption, "Welcome to Chicago" as well as some marketing catch phrases, I decided to give Serafina an introduction to life in Illinois.  I guess I was probably trying to show off a little too, although I actually detest folks who practice name dropping like it's an art, I know I was guilty of that myself.

"That's "Richie Rich" as I like to call him privately," I said, nodding at the poster as we walked past.  "Although most folks call him Hizzoner," I continued, "To his face, it's always Mr. Mayor.  He's without the doubt the most powerful man in the sate," I confided.

"His Father was Mayor before him," I added, conveniently leaving out the power vacuum that occurred with Richard J. Daley's death, the Jane Byrne and Harold Washington eras.  "Daddy was the one who stole the votes to elect President Kennedy back just before I was born, and it's his machine that rules city politics still today."

Serafina, while looking pleasant enough, didn't seem to be terribly impressed by my stories of machine politics, so I was thankful that my truck was quickly approaching.  "That's my Toyota over there," I said, pointing at a black 4x4.  I unlocked the passenger door and helped Serafina step up on the running board and into the cab, before excusing myself to lock her luggage in the back.

Once I joined her, I took more than a moment to just look Serafina in the eyes.   With my only planned line and move of the day, I said, "I've been waiting for this for a long time," as I grabbed the back of her head and kissed my darling friend for everything I was worth.

It felt like she melted, at least a little, and I felt goosebumps on her arm when I finally pulled away.  I know her smile was brighter after that first truly passionate kiss.  Serafina grabbed my right hand tightly, as I pulled away from the parking area to begin our drive home.

"Where's Bliss?" Serafina asked.

"She's at home right now making sure everything's ready for your arrival," I replied.  "She's really excited about your visit and she wants to make everything perfect."

"Oh, I just thought she'd be along," she added.

'You know we haven't even lived in our own home since Mom tore her achilles tendon and needed help," I told Serafina, "So your visit helped give us the excuse to finally escape.  I don't want to sound callous, but Mom has been able to get around well enough to care for herself for some time, but she's been incredibly needy ever since Dad left her, and the achilles tear just compounded everything."

Just as I was finishing my soliloquy about being a caregiver, it came time to pay a parking lot attendant, so I reluctantly had to pull my hand away from Serafina's grasp in order to grab some cash.  Soon enough I'd merged into interstate traffic, and was able to return my hand to Serafina's tight grasp.

"So, should we discuss all the drama at your website?" I asked.

"Oh Michael, I just don't know . . . " Serafina replied before trailing off in thought.  After just a brief moment, that somehow seemed interminably long, she said. "I'm here to see you, and I'd really like to focus on that."

Serafina continued speaking softly, saying, "I don't want anything associated with that site, the petty squabbling in the forums, all the fighting and nonsense, to cause problems for us while we are here."  I had to lean over more closely towards Serafina, to better hear what she was saying.  She leaned in more closely herself, like she longed for nothing more than to just curl up in my arms, and grasped my hand more tightly in hers.

"Just know the only thing I want, my only agenda, is to help you fulfill your vision . . ." I said, trailing off, my sentence and point still unfinished.  I wanted to tell Serafina that I'd fallen in love with her vision for helping others before I ever fell for her, yet I knew that wouldn't come out sounding correct.

"Frankly dear, I don't care what Bud, CT, or Lily . . . I don't care what any of those other fools want, or even what they say," I blurted out.

"It's YOUR site, it's YOUR vision, it's YOUR mission, and I want you to know that I'll fight for that, and I'll fight for you," I added, starting to get myself a little worked up.  I've always had a terrible penchant for fencing windmills it seems. Mom always said I relished the act, saying I'd mount my white charger, grab my lance, and charge off to battle like a knight errant.

"THEY don't know you like Bliss and I do, THEY have never been to visit your home and your family, THEY don't know the name of your childhood horse, or ANY of the other important things about you."

"Michael, why don't I set up a site for just you and me . . . I'll walk away from CK . . . We'll start our own . . . " my Serafina began to reply.

Before she could finish her sentence I stopped her.  "No," I said, "That's too big a sacrifice for you to make."

"Did you ever read my beehive essay over at MSP?" Serafina asked.

"No," I said.

"I'll show it to you when we get to your house," Serafina stated.  "It's a parable," she added.  "The bottom line is pretty simple though."

"OK," I said, growing curious.

"Sometimes it's time to start a new hive, and that decision rests with the queen bee . . . " Serafina said trailing off again.

"OH FUCK!" I said.

"What's wrong, did I offend you?" Serafina asked, drawing away.

"No darling, the sign we just passed said - 'Welcome to Wisconsin' - meaning . . . " I trailed off with embarrassment.

"Meaning, for the last half hour I've been driving in the wrong direction," I said, my face turning red.

"Oh well, that just gives us more time together, just you and me," Serafina replied, snuggling back in against my arm.

 I reversed course at the first exit I found.  Looking over and down upon a smiling Serafina, I said with a wink . . .

"Welcome to Wisconsin!"

Prelude to THE Kiss - How I Met My Slavegirl

There's more than a little backstory before the tale I'm about to tell, but I've never been very good at putting things in chronological order, at least not good at putting them down on paper in proper order.  In reality this is probably "Episode 4" in the story of how Serafina and I became Master and slave, so the rest will have to come as some sort of prequel.  Call me George Lucas if ya must, I'm sure the only individual who could be offended by such a quip is Mr Lucas.

Anxious.  That's what I remember most, being nervous.  Filled with the kind of nervous anticipation you get moments before a performance.  I remember that in my childhood Mom had always called that feeling, "having butterflies in your stomach."   Well, in this instance, it was the whole freaking Monarch Butterfly migration fluttering around just below my chest cavity.

There I was, standing in a vast terminal in Chicago's O'Hare Airport, waiting for my new girlfriend who was flying in from Seattle.  We were about to meet for the first time, and my anticipation was almost childlike.  Blissful Torment had declared that SHE was the one, and now it was my turn to meet the Princess who had turned my wife's head.

It was not too long after 9/11, and security could only be described as being a serious pain in the ass.  At least the glares of camouflage garbed National Guardsmen armed with assault rifles were gone, replaced by the scowling presence of more subtly uniformed and armed NTSA agents.  Flashing my Legislative ID and business card with the State Seal and bold title - Chief of Staff - didn't impress anyone and couldn't get me past their frowns, so I was reduced to waiting for arrivals with everyone else.

It was hard to just stand and wait, that's not my nature.  I guess there was a reason I'd been called "Action Man" back in the days when I'd been a community organizer, as I'm not one for sitting (or standing) around with nothing to do.  I used to laugh at people who talked about kicking back and relaxing on vacation, I always figured there'd be plenty of time for reclining when I was dead.

My ideal vacation (not to mention vocation) had always been strapping on a backpack and setting out into a wilderness area.  Now that was gone, disappeared with an unstable lumbar spine and severe chronic back pain that was preventing me from even being on the road with my employer, who was unceasing himself in his quest for higher and higher offices.

That I'd been forced to trade my backpack and banners for a suit and tie was bad enough, but now I was limited to office work, tied to a fucking desk.  Sure, there was a really nice view out the window of my office, that was some consolation, but the actual consolation was sight for a man who had work to do and a public to serve.  People who visited me always marveled at my view, I always said, "Sure it is nice, if you've got time to look."

It had been a year since I'd driven to Chicago to pick up Ms Torment's previous girlfriend, and I was being less than subtly reminded that my hiatus in travel had been for a worthwhile reason, my back was literally screaming in pain from the day's drive.  Standing and waiting had made it worse.

So, I convinced myself that I needed to walk back down to the video display showing arrivals, to confirm that Serafina's flight was on time.  Walking at least provided some relief from the anxiety and boredom of waiting, even if the exercise on the hard cement floor of the terminal wouldn't exactly help work out the pain.

This was my fourth or fight trek across the terminal, I'd lost count.  I know I was limping by that time, tendrils of the flames from my lumbar had been burning down my right leg for the past hour.  When pressure from inside my lumbar had caused the foot to go numb on the drive to O'Hare, I was thankful for the relief, and for my cruise control too.  I knew that precious numb respite was gone for the day, just as I knew that if I didn't keep moving I'd want to just curl up in a corner and whimper like a wounded animal.

As I limped up to the display, I saw that the flight from Seattle had arrived, so I turned around and began to trudge back towards the arrivals gate.  The walk back across the terminal felt as though like it was miles in length, although I'm sure it wasn't more than a hundred yards or two at most.  My back had gone beyond screaming, and was now laying in my pelvis kicking and throwing it's arms about in a tantrum, or so it felt.

Then I looked up and saw Serafina.  She looked just as tired and worn as me, she was limping, and she looked as though she might break into tears at any time.  She recognized me at almost the same moment, and the look on her face changed to one of glee.

I don't remember feeling any pain crossing the distance to Serafina, I'm told I broke into a near run for those last few yards.  I do know that in my enthusiasm she was swept off her feet, that I bear hugged her with glee.  Serafina remembers me swinging her in a circle, her feet off the ground the entire time, I just remember that in my excitement I did swing her like a rag doll, and hugged the breath right out of her too.

Oh her eyes!  That's what I remember most about that first look at my Serafina, her blue eyes.  They sparkled  despite the dull florescent lights overhead, despite her own pain and anxiety.  Despite everything else, those eyes still managed to draw me in.  When she smiled at me, holding my gaze, I melted.

I quickly learned that Serafina already had long since arrived.  Poor Serafina had even retrieved her luggage, all without seeing me waiting.  We'd missed each other during one of my cross terminal walks to check arrival listings.

She'd been near despair, as she'd begin to fear that all the dire warnings and predictions she'd heard prior to her trip to visit me might have come true.  I assured her that my affection for her was very real, and that I was very much a man of my word.

(to be continued)