That night was the first time Joseph and Shelley made love. It was reminiscent of a dance their love created together and that only they could share.
Their tenderness became passion, their passion became pleasure and their pleasure turned wild.
They slowly and articulately passed from one phase to the next, living each to its fullest.
A few hours later, they were both out of breath and damp with sweat.
Danforth was genuinely shaken-up by the feelings he was having.
It was the first time he had undergone an experience as moving as that.
His yesteryear had seen many women, all of which he’d made love to many times, but never like that before. At no time had he shared quite so many shades with anyone as special as that before.
Moving closer to her, Joseph glimpsed down at her face.
That face was beautiful. Simply wonderful.
The most beautiful in his eyes, and he was the one there making love to her.
How the hell was that possible?
It nearly made him think that love actually did exist. I mean, that movie-like version of love, the one you usually referred to as surreal or imaginary. This time that version of love not only appeared to be real, it seemed to be giving him a free spin too.
Yet Danforth had the feeling there was something amiss.
After all, he was a man, not a child.
Over the course of his life, he’d made love many a time. Why would that time be any different from any other time?
There was something, a feeling or impression maybe, which implied he should be considering things more carefully. Listen more attentively and open his eyes wide.
He never imagined something like this could genuinely exist, and now, there was a kind of inner conflict going on inside of him, because of it.
On no occasion had love been anything more than just physical pleasure and fun. Not once.
No different from jerking off, nor had he expected it to be. Until now that is, because being with Shelley, was a lot different. Fuck was it ever.
With Shelley, it was an entirely different matter.
For that reason, Danforth couldn’t help wonder, what the fuck he was supposed to do next, given how far they’d just come.
Stop having sex with whores perhaps?
Should he turn into an entirely different person?
In effect, giving up whores wouldn’t be hard at all.
Especially given that, after being with Shelley, whores would be nothing more than inflatable dolls. Nope, after Shelley, there was no going back. The feelings he had for her felt so good it was unsettling.
What the fuck – he thought.
I must be getting old.
Yeah, that must be it.
If he’d known those kinds of feelings really existed, maybe some of his choices would have been less extreme.
He might have got his shit together because of it and tried to find a girl like this sooner rather than later and not do crazy shit like rob gas stations or apply for the Special Forces for that matter. You can say that again.
Considering the way he was feeling for Shelley, his whole life seemed to be pure madness.
Shelly had a look of satisfaction on her face, as she whispered through her soft, half-closed lips.
He lost his train of thought however.
Things that didn't pertain to anything, came to mind, and he couldn’t do anything about it.
Joseph remembered the Laotian slaves he and Jorgenson had blown up, thus killing them and dismembering their bodies.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Civilians Joseph Danforth hadn’t killed with his bare hands, but just about: women and children that he and his team had ripped to shreds thanks to a so-called 'technical mistake'.
Calling it a 'technical mistake' made the whole thing a lot worse in his eyes.
Why is that?
He considered Lowell, the hostage who had drowned.
Then he thought about Johnny and Jorgenson who were still missing in action, followed by the look on the Vietcong he’d shot in the chest or head. For the hundredth time he could see the expressions of pain on their faces and their blood squirting all over the place. Their AK rifle made some rather noteworthy holes when it did hit someone dead on though. Especially when it came to exit wounds, because you could see blood vaporize into thin air or red filaments fly everywhere.
Danforth gave his head a shake; those runaway thoughts were ruining everything.
He tried to concentrate on her face.
There was a look of pleasure on her face and she looked wonderful.
This time making love was different.
This time it was real.
The only thing he had to do was hold tight and keep those pictures out of his head.
Joseph needed to hold her, tight, right up against him, and so he did.
He felt the need to feel her against him and to kiss her neck repeatedly.
After a few more flashbacks however, and that unsettling feeling began to interrupt his love making to Shelley.
He tried to block them out, but they only got worse.
Goddammit were they ever!
Danforth slowed his movements down and Shelley immediately looked at him, worrying that there might be something wrong.
He stopped.
She touched his face and caressed him.
Danforth had started to cry.
“What's happening?” she said.
Danforth didn’t know what to tell her.
He would have given anything to not have killed those civilians, or to have somehow saved Johnny and Jorgenson.
He would have given his own life.
He would have killed the whole world if it had made any kind of difference, but at that moment, while he was making love to Shelley, he couldn't even be angry about it.
The only thing he could do was cry.
All because it was over.
He had killed innocent bystanders and lost two friends, and was now doomed to live with that 'version' of the story forever.
For reasons beyond his understanding, the love he was feeling for Shelley now was making everything even more real.
Was it ever.
God only knew why.
Maybe because as two of his best friends were either dead, missing or prisoners, while he, on the other hand, was warm, safe and making love to the most beautiful woman in the world.
Him, the most undeserving of all.
The thug.
Joseph Danforth the pusher, the pimp, the thief and murderer, had killed civilians, lost a POW not to mention two team members. Instead of being dead or lost in Laos himself, he was there, in a hotel room in Dak To, making love for the first time to the only woman he had actually ever loved.
In no way did he deserve it.
He didn’t deserve any of it.
“I love you,” said Danforth despite it all.
All because he wanted nothing more than to make it real. It had to be.
No, he wasn't going to give it all up simply because he felt guilty about it.
“I love you, Shelley,” he said again.
She smiled softly and pushed him against her, in an attempt to comfort him.
“I love you too, Joseph.”
Then they started to make love again, and this time it was even sweeter.
After a while, his demons finally disappeared, and when he and Shelly reached the climax, they did so together.
Subsequently, they collapsed into each other’s arms.
The embraced each other tightly and Danforth needed to be there with her.
Leaving her would have been like making a get-away after you’ve stolen something.
After a while, he did let go of her, but laid there beside her, he was still covered in sweat and gazing at softly flowing brown hair that gently slept beside him.
She had the most beautiful hair he’d ever seen in his life.
On the one hand, Danforth felt at peace as he looked at such a lovely vision.
On the other however, he was a little restless because this feeling was like nothing he’d felt before.
'You are getting soft, Joseph' – the team would have told him if they had only known what was going on in his head.
A smile came to his lips as his eyes closed and he began to watch the far away figures dance.
He was still very tired from the recently concluded mission and was fast asleep in no time at all.