Paradise -- Chapter 12
I hope that this chapter finds all you guys well. I know that it's taken me longer to post chapters of this story than others, so I thank you guys for keeping up with me and being as patient as you have been.
Anyway...the usual disclaimer applies.
If you have any questions, please email me at thefuturecanadian@yahoo.ca or join the yahoo group and post a message there. The address is ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/futurecanadiansgroup . Enjoy!
David :)
Paradise Chapter 12 "Trials"
It was just after four in the afternoon in Talxiara, and Zhola was looking over a speech that she was getting ready to deliver to the people of Morovia. On her face was a smile as she thought about the valiantly effortless actions of the Morovian State Police, working in conjunction with local police in Oneonta and Blount County. The FBI as well as the TFA had also assisted in the joint action.
As she walked down out of the Presidential suite, she thought about how it had been almost two weeks since the shooting. She recalled her first telephone conversation with JD, one in which he gave her not a royal title but something far more precious to her, her aunt-ly name. Maxima was Max; Lidia was Lid; however, Zhola had become, at the decision of both her niece and her nephew, Tia ZhoZho. She was proud that she'd been able to do what she could to assist the people of Morovia on his behalf as she had in those two weeks since meeting JD on the phone.
By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, so many people had crowded into the Grand Foyer that she couldn't help but smile. She took a few minutes to greet a few people that she knew before taking her position at the podium.
"Good Afternoon," Zhola said the place quieted down to hear the words that she was going to say. They'd grown accustomed to hearing a progress report from the palace on JD's condition, hoping that as each day came, they would get a date for the transition. "I want to say that I spoke with Prince Joseph David just a little while ago. He had just spoken with his doctors, and he is recovering much faster than they expected. I told him to tell them that it's because he's Morovian!" There was cheering from the crowd for a moment as Zhola laughed. "He was just about to go to his physical therapy appointment to help him work on his shoulder and hip. The removal of his kidney has been a success, and no infection or any other problem has been reported. To allay a question that I know is going to come in a moment, a date has not yet been set, but I'm very sure that it will be soon." There was a moment of silence as she gave reporters a chance to finish making their notes.
"Next," she said, "I want to apologize to the people of Morovia for the next thing. When I took over the administration of the nation, I pledged that I would keep it transparent. I wouldn't lie or use deception as Guil had done during the decades of his administration. However, in the name of the people of Morovia, I have done just that. As you all know, last week, after discussing the issue with the Council of Ministers and the ambassador from the United States, a tribunal was set up that would further investigate the issues related to the attack against Prince Joseph David's person. After reviewing statements collected by the Paradise Police Department and the Morovian Presidential Guard, the tribunal decided that there were more questions that they had. To that end, twenty-two subpoenas were issued by the tribunal to individuals that they believe have more information than what they gave to the Police and to the Guard.
"Now, what hasn't been published up to this point is that these subpoenas were delivered two days ago to all individuals named by the Tribunal. Speaking on behalf of the entire group, Reverend Tim Michaelson phoned the Morovian Embassy in Washington, DC, and said that he had...quote... `no intention of reporting to a foreign court, a court that had no moral jurisdiction of any citizen of the United States'. It was then decided that a section of the Morovian American Treaty of 1969 would be applied whereby the United States was required to assist the Morovian people by ordering the extradition of those wanted for questioning by the Tribunal.
"So last night, as most of the people in the town of Oneonta slept, members of the Special Ops Division of the Morovian State Police, members of the Presidential Guard, and members of the Police Department of the City of Paradise, with the much appreciated assistance of the Police Department of the Cities of Oneonta and Blountsville, as well as the Sherriff's Department of Blount County, the Alabama Bureau of Investigation, the US Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, has apprehended all of the people who refused to submit themselves for questioning by the Tribunal that was set up here.
"It was decided that to help in ensuring that they receive a fair shake of things, that an announcement would not be made until they were in a secure location, in the State of Morovia," she stopped for a second as she reorganized her notes. As she did, people across Morovia and throughout Paradise applauded her deception, rather than holding it against her. "Now," she asked, "does anyone have any questions for me?" She looked toward the Morovian Information Service.
"Could you please give us some details on the composition of the tribunal?" the man asked.
"Yes," Zhola answered. "The tribunal, like every other court in Morovia, will consist of more than one justice who must reach a majority decision in order to apply the conviction. In the case of this tribunal, there will be nine justices. One justice has been selected from each of the provinces, and then one justice from the city of Talxiara. The other three justices were selected from a sizeable community of Morovians living abroad who practice the law of their adopted homelands. One jurist, for example, was taken from the Morovian community of Cabocha. Another has come from Sydney, Australia. The third was taken from the Morovian community in Toronto."
"Is there a particular reason," another person asked after being recognized, "why an attorney from the United States was chosen?"
"I told Princess Maxima about the tribunal before it was to be composed and asked her to recommend a lawyer from the United States. She said that there were so many good attorneys of Morovian descent, but she added that most of them, if not all, belonged to organizations to which she and Prince Thomas were no doubt also a member. To avoid the tribunal being accused of having any conflicts of interest, it was decided to choose jurists from outside that circle."
"Can you comment as to the legal representation that those arrested will receive here in Morovia?"
"Under the terms of the tribunal, they will be allowed to hire and meet with an attorney of their choosing. If they choose an attorney from the United States, then that is there choice. However," she noted by holding a single finger in the air, "the Morovian system, customs, traditions, procedures, and laws will prevail beyond that."
"Will the tribunal provide translators for them, since Morovian law exacts that the official language of the nation will be used in all court proceedings?"
"If you will remember, the Council of Reconciliation recommended, and I accepted, that in order for us to encourage people to return to the homeland, we have to make linguistic concessions. English has been given official status throughout the country. French, Castilian, and Cabochean are listed as secondary languages. So with that being said, if they choose to have their proceedings conducted in English, that is fully within the scope of the law. In anticipation that they would, all of the members of the tribunal are bilingual, as will be those who end up being prosecuting attorneys."
"Have the family of Richard Hall been called to address the tribunal?"
"They haven't been called; they volunteered to do it," Zhola said, recalling a very nice conversation that she'd had with Tammy a few days earlier, when the tribunal was announced.
JD and Tyler watched the address quietly as she continued to speak. JD turned from his place on the hospital bed and looked at Tyler. "Are you OK that they're asking questions about your family?"
"I'm not sure what I think," Tyler answered. "I'm just starting to get really tired of the press thinking Ricky was this horrible person. That side of him just came out in the last few months, and I am sure that it was as a result of that...bitch...that he was doing. If only I could have gotten him away from her for a while, you could have met the guy that he was."
JD smiled. "So since it's just us, can I tell you something that happened...after the shooting?"
"Of course," Tyler said.
"OK. First off, Lindsay and I used to sit in the afternoons and watch Maury and Montel and make fun of these kinds of people, so please promise me that you won't think any less of me by me telling you this."
"I promise," Tyler said, holding up a right hand.
"I think...no...I know...that I had a near death experience," JD answered.
"OK...was it like the tunnel with the white light?"
"No. It wasn't like that at all," JD said. "It was this beautiful place, and all of my grandparents were there. They approve of you, by the way. Gramps told me before I left that as soon as I can, I better fuck the hell out of you."
"Yeah. It's going on two weeks, and I haven't even...self-inflicted an orgasm...but continue."
"While I was there, I saw Ricky."
"OK," Tyler said. "He told me to tell you that if you didn't believe what I'm saying to remind you about when you were little, and your Granny did what she did."
"What did `he' say about that?"
"He told me that the last time it happened was the last time that you talked to your grandparents, and she caught you playing with a kid who had gay parents. He told me that when you refused to stop playing with him, that she took a broom..."
"OK..." Tyler said.
"You know that you could have told me about that, and it wouldn't have changed my opinion at all," JD said.
"I know. It's just not something that I like thinking about," Tyler answered honestly.
"So what did he tell you about everything?"
"He said that he realized that what he did was wrong. He told me about his part in the attack on that church in Birmingham, and a whole lot of other things."
"If he weren't already dead..." Tyler said as he thought about his brother's dumbass acts.
"Baby. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, and now he feels remorse."
"Did you forgive him?" Tyler asked.
"Yeah," JD said. "He also told me to tell you not to feel guilty about me being the one who took the bullet."
"He did not," Tyler smiled.
"OK. So yeah. I made that one up, but I figured it would help if you heard it came from him. I'm sorry."
"It's OK. You're not going to keep me from feeling guilty, though."
"What if our situations were reversed? What would you tell me when you realized that I hadn't let you out of my sight for two weeks except to pee, shower, and get something from a vending machine?"
"JD..." Tyler begged.
"Seriously. What would you have told me?"
"I would have told you not to feel guilty. I would have told you to go home for a night and get some sleep or something, have a nice meal, jack off in peace..." Tyler answered.
"And do you think I would have said?"
"You would have been as stubborn as I am being right now," Tyler answered.
"Right," JD said. "Tyler, I love you, but you need to take some time for yourself. I can get Lindsay or Jen to come stay with me tonight. Please...for me...go have a nice dinner, spend the night at my parents' house."
"I'm not gonna do that, JD," Tyler added.
"Why not?"
"What if something happens?" Tyler added.
"If something were going to happen, it would have happened by now," JD noted.
"But if it did, unexpectedly..." Tyler said.
"Tyler!" JD said.
As the argument was heating up, Lindsay and Jen opened the door. "Did we come at a bad time?" Jen asked.
"Jen. Convince Tyler that he needs to get out of this hospital for, at least, one night," JD requested.
"Lindsay. Tell your cousin that I'm not leaving this building until he does."
"Tyler. It makes no sense for you to be here with me the whole time. My parents, my aunt, Lindsay, Jen...they'd all be willing to give you a night off."
"I'm not fucking taking it, JD!" Tyler said. "It's my fault that you're here in the fucking first place, and I will not, by God, leave until I am 110% certain that you are better."
"Damnit! Tyler!" JD said as he tried to sit up in the bed by himself. Tyler reached over to help him, but he refused it.
"Fine. If you want me to leave, I'm fucking gone!" Tyler said as he grabbed an umbrella to ward off the rain outside, and walked toward the door. "Take me somewhere, Jen," he commanded as he walked right past them and out the door.
"I guess I'll see you guys later!" Jen said as she smiled at JD.
After the door was shut behind Jen, Lindsay turned to JD. "Was that necessary?"
"Probably not," JD answered. "It's just that he needs to get away for a little while. I'm here; I'm not going anywhere for a while. He's here because he feels guilty about `letting this happen to me'," JD explained.
"And I know you appreciate it so much," Lindsay said, "but an argument?"
"I know. I hope I didn't piss him off so bad that he doesn't come back," JD said.
"He'll be back. He can't get enough of you, just like you can't get enough of him," Lindsay noted as JD.
"I really have to pee," JD said as he tried again to sit on the bed. "FUCK!" he screamed out in pain as he put too much pressure on his wounded shoulder.
"That's what you get for arguing with Tyler," Lindsay pointed.
"Are you just gonna sit there and talk shit all night?"
"Maybe," Lindsay answered.
"Then maybe you need to go, too," JD said as he rolled himself over and sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Nope," Lindsay said as she sat in Tyler's chair and flipped through the pages of a magazine. JD stood from the side of the bed, holding on to whatever he could find as he was on his way to the bathroom.
"Damn him!" Tyler said as he and Jen stood in the elevator, on their way down to the main floor.
"You don't mean that," Jen said.
"Yes the fuck I do. I mean, he needs my help, and he's gonna fuck yell at me like a bitch. I've had enough of that in my life, and fuck him if he thinks he's gonna do it, too."
"Would you listen to yourself?" Jen requested as they got off the elevator and began walking through the lobby. "You mean to tell me that you're giving up on this thing, a thing that could be wonderful for both of you because of one little fight. Are you saying that you don't love him anymore because you know...and don't tell me that you don't...that he's right, that you do need to get away from his place, even if it's for a couple of hours."
"Jennifer," they said as they climbed into the car that just outside the front door, "are you telling me that I'm in the wrong here."
"Not entirely," Jen said. "I do think you're being an ass, but then JD is too. The thing about it is, though, you've spent the last two weeks with him, not out of love, but out of guilt. That's why the argument happened in the first place," Jen explained. "And I love you, Tyler, more than any other person on this planet, but you have to give yourself a little bit of time away from him, to appreciate him and for him to appreciate you."
"Do I stink?" Tyler asked.
"Yes," Jen answered quickly. "You need a shower and a good meal, at the least."
"At the least."
"I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if you...um...you know."
"No. I'm not doing that yet."
"Tyler, you get really cranky when you don't...um...take care of things for a while."
"I do not," Tyler claimed.
"Trust me...you do," Jen said.
"Hey JD!" Lindsay yelled as she propped her feet onto the edge of the hospital bed.
"What now?" JD yelled from the bathroom.
"While you're in there, you should really pop one out," Lindsay said.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know...choke the chicken, beat the monkey, jostling your elder, releasing the hostages, beta-testing the hardware, downloading from your own website..." she said.
"Lindsay! That's good!" JD said.
"Seriously, though. You've got to be horny as fuck, and you get cranky when you don't get it for a while."
"No I don't," JD argued.
"Please, you just think you don't cause you and Tyler are used to fucking twice a day," Lindsay noted. "What are you doing in there anyway?"
"I'm trying to pee," JD said.
"Please, you're a guy with one kidney, it's not gonna take you ten minutes to sit on the pot and pee," Lindsay noted. "So what are you doing?"
"Lindsay, drop it," JD ordered.
"Joseph David. I'm on my period. You should know better than anyone else not to fuck around with me when I'm on my period."
"I know that," JD said, "and I'd probably say a lot more if you weren't."
"You would not!" Lindsay pointed out. "Because you know that I'm right, that you need to jack off, and then you need to get over yourself and realize that you're not the only motherfucker with feelings!"
"Hey Tyler," Maxima said as he knocked on the door to the house that JD grew up in. "Ms. Barrington, would you mind if I took a quick shower."
"Not at all," Maxima said. "And why are you calling me Ms. Barrington?"
"He and JD had a fight," Jen whispered.
"Oh! OK," Maxima said they walked into the house. Tyler greeted Tom and then went up to bathe. He had bathed at the hospital, but the water pressure wasn't like he liked it, and the water never seemed to be hot enough. Perhaps it was because JD wasn't in there with him; perhaps he'd just gotten used to the fact that the water heater at JD's condo never seemed to fail them.
As he stood beneath the stream, washing himself, something snapped. Maybe it was just the thoughts going on in his mind, or maybe it was the soap that JD religiously used, but something made him so incredibly horny that he couldn't bear it. He washed himself in that area, but as much as tried not to think about things, he couldn't help it. Before long, relief came as his body convulsed beneath the vibrancy of the orgasm. He took a deep breath as he was able to finish washing himself.
At the hospital, JD and Lindsay were still arguing. Well. JD was arguing, and Lindsay was sitting there, casually flipping through the pages as she frustrated him more and more. It got quiet though after a second. Even though the door to the bathroom was closed, Lindsay could still hear that he was sitting there, enjoying the private moment in the cool air of the bathroom. She could hear him breathing heavy and hard as he enjoyed himself carnally. When orgasm came, his head fell back, banging up against the wall.
"You OK in there?" Lindsay asked.
"Fine..." JD said as he cleaned up the mess that part of the mess that he wasn't able to get to go into the toilet.
"That's good," Lindsay said. "You feel better now?" she asked JD as he hobbled out of the bathroom.
"I am," JD said, a little more relaxed.
"It certainly took you long enough!" she grinned at him.
"Gramps always said that if you're gonna do something, you got to do it right," JD said as Lindsay snickered.
"And he was probably talking about evicting the testicular squatters, too," Lindsay added as they both giggled a little bit.
Over a couple of hours, both of the guys did their own thing. A much more relived Tyler and Jen went out to dinner at Gutierro's. After eating, the pair went to a movie. The whole time, though, Tyler was thinking about JD. At the movie theatre, he and Jen were getting popcorn and a soda when the shrillest sound either of them had ever heard echoed through the grand lobby of the theatre. Like everyone in the place, they turned to see a woman standing there, arguing with her child. Now, Tyler's Morovian wasn't the best, but he got the gist of what was going on. The kid wanted some popcorn, but her mother said that there just wasn't enough money.
"Come on," Tyler said as he looked at his own popcorn and soda. Jen followed him. "Excuse me," he said to the lady.
"Me tchamo..."
"Tyler! El Novio!" she said as she hugged him and gave him a kiss on both cheeks.
Tyler smiled. He'd gotten the unofficial title among Morovians in the days following the announcement by Zhola of the restoration of the monarchy. "Puedo compartira mi popcorn con vosses?" (Can I share my popcorn with you guys?)
"Oh! No! No pudamos aceptara esto," she said, moving it away. "A lo menos, no pude pagara-te esto." (We couldn't accept this. Besides, I couldn't pay you for it, anyway.)
"No! Señora...es un regalo," Tyler said as he handed him the bag of popcorn. (No! Ma'am...it's a gift.)
"Vos estás seguro?" she asked, she asked after looking into his eyes and then at her daughter. (Are you sure?)
"Totalmente!" Tyler said, with a huge smile. (Totally.)
"Pois...graça!" she said with a smile. "Qué necesitas dezira a Tyler?" she asked her little girl. (Thank you. What do you need to say to Tyler?)
"Thank you!" the little girl said in perfect English as she reached up to give Tyler a hug.
"You're welcome," Tyler said as knelt down to let the little girl wrap her arms around his neck.
"Saves...el Principe JD tiene mucha suerte por habera encontrara-te!" the lady said with a smile as Tyler stood back up. (You know...Prince JD is very lucky to have found you.)
"No...señora...eo soy ele que tiene la suerte," Tyler responded just before saying his good-byes to the lady. (I'm the lucky one.)
"Still feel the same way about JD?" Jen asked.
"By same way...do you mean that I felt when we left or how I've felt for the last two months?"
"When we left..."
"No," Tyler answered with a smile. "Now. Let's go see this damn movie."
"Yes sir, Prince Tyler," Jen said as she wrapped her arm in his and walked with him into the dark theatre.
About halfway through the film, Jen got a text message that she wouldn't let Tyler see. It was Lindsay, asking if Tyler was OK. Jen replied simply that he was and asked about JD. After the movie, Tyler and Jen went back to Maxima and Tom's house, where they pleasantly passed the evening. It wasn't hard to Tyler to fall asleep in JD's bed. It smelled of him so much.
Of course, knowing that Tyler was getting a good night's sleep helped JD to sleep a little bit better. He dreamed that night of what it would be like once he did get to Morovia, once he was crowned. In the dream, he was receiving the symbols of state. Standing to his right was Lindsay, who was receiving the tokens typically associated with the Crown Prince or Princess. To his left, with a wide smile on his face, was Tyler.
As both guys slept peacefully in their respective, separate places, life was moving around in Morovia. In a very old building which at one point housed the High Court of Morovia before it moved into the Palacio de Parlamento. As one entered the gate of the Old High Court Building, they were greeted by a large stone courtyard. Directly ahead of you would be the primary part of the building, where the court actually met. To either side were offices that were used by the justices of the High Court, as well as smaller court rooms that were used at one point or another for other things. During the times of Guil Santiago, the complex was used as a place where executions in the Talxiara-area were handled. Some two thousand people were hanged or shot in the courtyard of the High Court Building. As that morning came, though, all the of the blood had been washed from the walls.
From an undisclosed location to the north of Talxiara, three small white busses carried people from the location of their temporary captivity to that hall. Zhola had ordered that the Tribunal use that building because of the natural security that existed in its thick stone walls.
Silently, Morovian State Police officers, wielding machine guns and angry looks on their faces, escorted the individuals brought from America into the massive Cámara Grande. As they entered, the size of the bench was scary. There were enough seats for seven judges, but no jury. There was one table at which sat two individuals. Each of those individuals were wearing blue robes and black wigs, traditional for the court of justice from both before and during the reign of Guil Santiago. The State Police corralled all of the others into a box like area where there were no seats. Crowded together, they quickly realized that they would be forced to stand until all of this was over. Again, it was a tradition of the court.
"Where are we?" Kara's father asked the men that were seated.
"You are in the Palace of the High Court of Morovia," one of the attorneys for the state answered curtly before returning to the other attorney and began speaking again in Morovian.
"Presenting the Justices of the Special Tribunal," a guard in traditional dress called as the seven men selected by Zhola herself walked in, each wearing the robes that were traditional for their provinces. The justices called from abroad were wearing black robes, the rest of them had some combination of black and red. Following them into the chamber were two ladies that were keeping identical transcripts of the proceedings.
"Thank you for joining us," the head justice said to them in flawless English.
"Excuse me, but we are not here of our own accord. We were...abducted...from our homes in the middle of the night, transported here, blindfolded, and then brought to this circus of a `courtroom'. We will not answer any questions or provide any assistance to this...mockery of justice...until we are permitted to contact our Embassy and are given legal representation that meets with our approval," Kara's father, Tim, said.
"Mr. Michaels," the justice said. "Your government knows that you are here. They assisted us in making sure that you arrived according to schedule. They were required to do so under the terms of the Morovian American Treaty of 1969. You will be provided legal representation, or you may, at your expense, hire your own attorney. We will even permit you to call an attorney in the United States to represent you, but again, we will cover no cost of his or her expenses. Now, you will answer our questions, as well as those of the attorneys for the state. If not, you will be sentenced to one-hundred-eighty days in prison off the bat. If I were you, I would answer the questions honestly, for prisons in Morovia are not known to be...as pleasant...as prisons in the United States." He glared over the rim of his glasses at Mr. Michaels, instilling in a man of powerful words a little bit of fear. "Are we understood?"
"Do we not get representation today?"
"Representation will only be provided if, and only if, you are charged with any crime. This is simply an inquest," the justice answered.
"We will be held against our will for the duration of this `inquest'?" Tim continued.
"Yes. Given your brazen words to our embassy worker, it has been decided that you all will be required to remain in custody until it is determined whether or not there is any evidence to try you," the justice answered.
"How long will that be?" Tim asked.
"As long as is necessary," the head justice said. "Shall we begin?"
"NO!" Tim cried.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't a question, but rather a statement. We shall begin now," the justice declared, giving Tim a look.
"In America, we would be permitted to sit down," Tim protested.
"This is not America. The food is tastier, the women are much better looking, and people know when to close their mouths!" the justice screamed at him. "Who is the first person to whom we shall speak?"
"Kara Lynn Michaels," the attorney for the state answered, standing respectfully before addressing the panel.
"Kara Lynn Michaels," the justice said, turning to the panel assembled.
"You don't have to answer any questions to him," Tim told her.
"Ms. Michaels, if you do not present yourself and answer our questions, I will hold you for refusal to provide information, and I will place you in a cell, alone, for six months."
"Only God can judge me!" she cried.
"Think of me, then, as the Holy Spirit!" the judge declared as he banged his gavil. "Beginning today, Kara Lynn Michaels shall be placed into a cell at Tomaro Prison, with no contact with the outside world for the duration of 180 days."
"Don't move, Kara," Tim told her, staring at the judge.
"Mr. Michaels, I am sentencing you to one year in Tomaro Prison, with no contact with the outside world for obstructing our investigation," the justice continued with the bang of a gavil. "I have dealt with people that just thought they were cocky as the lot of you! When we meet again in the morning, if there is no cooperation, the lot of you will be there for a year!" The justice stood from his seat and walked out of the courtroom. The other justices followed him. The attorneys waited until the police took them out, keeping Kara and Tim away from the rest of the group for transport to the prison.
Within just a couple of hours, Tim and Kara were being taken into Tomara prison. In the otherwise pristine city of Talxiara, Tomara was a place that people didn't even talk about. When it was built, it was meant to house people for the purpose of rehabilitation. When Guil took control, it became a place where people were brought to spend extended lengths of time `contemplating' their actions before being taken to the High Court Hall for their extermination.
In the van, Tim kept his eyes straight ahead while Kara looked around to see where she was being taken. On the yard were people that scared her, large people that looked like something were wrong with them, physically. They gazed at her, some with a look on their eyes that spoke to their strong desire to know her...in the physical sense. On the other side were women that looked as though they would just as soon kill her as look at her. She began to shake as she thought about Ricky. He was a nice guy, and she used him to get what she wanted, what her father wanted. "One less homosexual," he would say, "makes the world a little better."
The van stopped at a grand entry. The police climbed out and pulled each of them from different sides of the van. Tim was escorted to the men's side of the facility; Kara was escorted to the women's side.
"Desroba," one of the guards commanded Kara. She just stood there, trying to convince them that she was protesting, but in reality, she didn't know what they were saying. "DESROBA!" the guard instructed again. When she didn't, the guard walked over, angrily. She began pulling Kara's t-shirt from her body.
"What are you doing?"
"I told you to take off your clothes, and you refused. This is how we handle inmates that do not conform to our requests."
"I don't speak Morovian," Kara said.
"Your problem, not mine," the guard said as she started undoing Kara's pants and another female guard continued attempting to take her shirt.
"Stop this! Now! I am an American citizen, with rights!"
"Not in Morovia!" the second guard yelled as she screamed out loud. The sound of her shrill voice echoed throughout the corridors. As people walked by, looking at her as she was being humiliated by the guards, she started to cry. When she was completely naked, the guards dragged her down the hall as she continued to scream. Her heels scraped against the polished concrete floor as two women that looked as though they'd competed for the East German team in the Olympics forced her to go where they wished.
A third guard, walking with them, opened the door to a foul smelling room that was covered, ceiling and floor included, in white tiles that looked as though they'd not been cleaned in some time. They tossed her inside, shutting the door before she could run toward them.
"Ducha!" one of the guards said through an opening in the door. "DU-cha!" she repeated as she turned on the water that came into the room through spigots installed in the ceiling. The water was cold, uncomfortable, and it smelled funny.
"LET ME OUT OF HERE!" she cried as she listened to the women laughing outside the door to the shower. "Please," she begged as she began to cry like a baby. The water all around her was landing on her body.
After a moment, the door was reopened, and one of the ladies dried her off with a hard towel. In a moment, she was taken to a small room. It was cramped and felt weird. There was no window; however, there was a light that it appeared that she couldn't control. On the bed, there was a small pillow and a blanket sitting beside a bright green jumpsuit. She quickly put the jumpsuit on her body. It wasn't comfortable, but it kept her from catching her death in that chilly cell. She lay down on the bed and fell asleep only after hours of crying and crying.
In Paradise, the next morning came as Kara was falling to sleep in her cell. Tyler woke up more than refreshed after spending the night sleeping on an actual bed. JD woke up wondering if Tyler had slept well as a very attractive nurse helped him to his physical therapy appointment. At around ten, JD was lying in the bed as Tyler was arriving at the hospital. JD was lying in the room, alone, when Tyler knocked on the door.
"Come in," JD said, knowing that it was Tyler.
"Good morning," Tyler said as he walked in. He immediately walked to the edge of the bed.
"How did you sleep?" JD asked as Tyler planted a kiss right on his lips. It wasn't a simple kiss. It was one of those kisses in which spit and tongues swapped mouths. It was sensual and powerful; it was enough to give JD a woody right there as he lay on the bed. "I take it you slept well."
"I'm sorry about last night," Tyler said.
"I am, too," JD said.
"You were right," Tyler said. "I did need to get away."
"And you were right, that I needed help."
"Are you OK? You didn't hurt yourself did you?"
"No," JD answered. "But it was hard as hell to get to the bathroom to pee and jack off."
"So you jacked off, too?" Tyler asked as he leaned down and kissed JD again.
"Yes. You?" JD asked.
"Oh God! I've only cummed that much one or two other time," Tyler confessed.
"Tyler. I love you more than you will ever know," JD said.
"I know," Tyler said. "I love you, too."
"Maybe one day, after we've had some more to get to know each other...we could..."
"Oh yeah, sexy motherfucker!" Tyler understood, kissing him one more time as they both smiled at each other.
Tyler assumed his usual position again, tuning the TV to an episode of Star Trek: The Original Series as they sat there, enjoying the other's company as if there were no drama in their lives, no trials, no tribulation, just energy that they both enjoyed beyond reason.