The Painfully Slow Seduction of Aldus Lamb

Originally published in the anthology Shadow Regions from Surreal Books

Love had only come to Gina Wolfe twice in her life. The first was when she fell for a financial officer from Wyoming with dark hair and even darker eyes. They met at a trade show, their eyes locking across a sea of people intent on a work-paid vacation and all the free trinkets they could carry. She was in her presenter’s booth, wearing a red dress that was all business, but still short enough to show off plenty of the long legs she knew were her best feature. He wore khakis and a button-down shirt with no tie, the kind of look that told her he was in command of the world, and confident enough not to have to prove it. She fell in love immediately, and the two of them spent a week of nights together, rolling between crisp hotel sheets, while Gina ran her hands through his dark hair and imagined what their children would look like.

He was, of course, already married, and at the end of the week, flew back to Wyoming to his wife and the two children he already had. But Gina never forgot him, and while the time they spent together had been short and full of lust, she knew the love she felt for him was a true sort of love, the kind of love that gave itself freely, expecting nothing in return. She felt the pain of his leaving for months after, but in the end she let him go. It was all she could do, and it gave her some measure of contentment to believe that even in her absence, wherever he was, he would be happy.

The second time Gina Wolfe fell in love, it was with Aldus Lamb.

Aldus was, at the time, a newly-hired salesman, one of three brought in as part of a last attempt to save the ailing company where Gina worked from bankruptcy and closure. She first saw him when the bosses led him around in the customary whirlwind of introductions. He appeared before her, clad in a smart, pinstriped suit and bold, red tie like some modern corporate Adonis. She found herself speechless as he smiled down at her, and her hand got lost in his confident grip as the bosses clapped his back and winked at each other, knowing this was the hero who would save them from extinction.

It was love at first sight.

Love, that is, for Gina, but not for Aldus. He shook her hand in an absent sort of way that told her he would forget her name by the time he reached the next desk. Knowing that left Gina no less determined. Though she’d only loved once before, she knew men, and she knew that, in time, this one would come around, like so many others before him. She also knew that, like the first love she’d felt over three years before, her love for this man she’d just met was more than just a passing attraction. It was more than giddy infatuation that would fade over time. This was the real thing, and as he turned his broad-shouldered back to her, she made a silent promise to herself to make it work this time, regardless of what her cost may be.

She set about her pursuit of Aldus the same way she had any of the many office romances she’d amused herself with in the past. Little by little, day by day, the hem of her skirt rose higher and higher, and she kept her blouse fastened with fewer and fewer buttons. Her hair went from the no-nonsense ponytail to a shiny-combed cascade which hung loose and seductive about her shoulders. It was an approach Gina knew well, and it had never left her disappointed.

She spent her free time standing at the railing, looking down on the atrium at the center of the building and waiting for Aldus to pass by so she could lean over at the right moment to afford him a better view. Any excuse, no matter how far-fetched or flimsy, found her sitting across from him in his office, talking to him about nothing. She played with her hair as she spoke, throwing it back when she found excuses to laugh. All the while, she smiled, crossing and uncrossing her legs in the most provocative way she knew how.

Despite all that, Aldus failed to give her so much as a second glance. She might have wondered if she’d lost her touch if not for the way the other men in the office watched her, sticking their heads out of their cubicles and following the sway of her hips when they thought she couldn’t see. Her boss even called her aside, stammering his way through carefully chosen words, suggesting she dress more conservatively while his eyes roamed over her body.

She still had it, but for reasons Gina couldn’t understand, Aldus didn’t want it.

Gina remained undaunted. This was, after all, real love, and one didn’t give up on real love so easily. It didn’t take long for her to decide on a new course of action. Where she had failed to appeal to the animal side of his nature, she would now try to capture his intellectual side. She began with a week of quiet inquiries, keeping her ears open and sitting near the right people in the crowded lunchroom in order to learn everything she could about Aldus Lamb.

Before the week was done, she learned that he was thirty-one, unmarried; never married, in fact. That point worried her somewhat, because experience told her single men over thirty were usually either gay or undateable for any number of reasons. She didn’t let it concern her too long, because in the course of her prying and gentle prodding, she also found out that Aldus collected books, and that gave her something she could use.

Gina didn’t know the first thing about books, but she immediately set out to learn. She began a series of after work forays to the library, soaking up all the information she could about first editions, limited printings and signed copies. She learned how to tell a book’s condition on sight, and started keeping a list of rare editions in her head for use in conversation. Volumes by respected and easily recognized authors began appearing on the edge of her desk in plain view, their spines facing outward in case Aldus might walk by. She even managed to read one or two of the shorter ones.

But all of it was for nothing because Aldus took no notice of the books on her desk, nor did he show any interest when Gina brought up the topic as they passed in the halls. He still regarded her as barely there, and seemed hardly able to wait to get out of any room she managed to get them alone in.
She began to wonder if Aldus might not be interested in women after all. Could fate be so cruel as to fill her heart with love for someone who could never return that love to her? She didn’t believe it was possible, but the thought still nagged at the back of her mind. So, when she found out Aldus was having a fling with the mousy little file girl from Accounts Payable, it filled her more with relief than indignation. As long as girls were still in the picture, Gina still had a chance, even if the girls he was interested in were as frumpy and uninteresting as the one from Accounts Payable.

Their relationship ended in a matter of months, as Gina knew it would, and soon she was back to pouring forth her seductive charms. Again, Aldus paid her no notice. She began to wonder what he’d seen in the girl from Accounts Payable, and set about studying her--the way she walked, the things she talked about, the way she wore her hair. Before long, the two of them might have been mistaken for twins, with Gina perfectly imitating the girl’s conservative, brown-drab manner of dress and quiet speech. Still, when Aldus walked by, he barely gave her a glance.

And so it went, day after day, for the next three years. The company not only survived, but started to prosper, and Aldus began a meteoric rise into the ranks of the vice-presidents. Gina remained in the same dull-grey cubicle, even after her talents had grown beyond the confines of her job. She shuffled papers among her coworkers, did her work when asked, and all the while, planned for the day when she and Aldus Lamb would be together, at last.

In those years, Gina tried everything she could think of to make Aldus fall in love with her. She bought him gifts on his birthdays. She showed up unexpectedly at his after-work haunts. She even spent eight months ignoring him completely, returning his cold indifference with her own. None of it worked, and after five years, she was no closer to winning the love of Aldus Lamb than she was when she started.

And after all that time, Gina was left with only one friend in the entire office, the mousy girl, who was now the manager of Accounts Payable. Her name was Cheryl, and after spending so much time copying her in every way, Gina discovered they had much in common. It was to Cheryl, after five years, whom Gina finally confessed her love for Aldus Lamb. Cheryl was not at all surprised by the admission. Gina’s desperate plays for attention had become the stuff of office joke and behind-the-back snickering. But Cheryl listened patiently, and when Gina finished her story in tears, she laid a hand on her shoulder.

Cheryl told Gina not to cry. If what she felt for Aldus was really love, then perhaps there was a way. She gave Gina the address of a woman she’d once visited, a woman who held sway over dark powers that were awesome and frightening. This woman once helped Cheryl, and maybe she could help Gina as well.

Thinking there was nothing to lose, Gina went to the woman the next day.
She lived in a ground-floor apartment in a neighborhood where garbage lined the streets, and the smells of urine and rotting food were everywhere. Gina almost turned around when she saw the drab brown door that matched the address. It was a door that could lead anywhere, and though the thought made her suddenly afraid, she knocked anyway.

The woman who answered wasn’t old, as Gina had expected, but young, younger than Gina and more beautiful than she’d ever been, even at her best, with dark skin and hair pulled back tight in a neat little bun. She ushered Gina in and handed her a cup of tea that smelled of cinnamon and burned hair. Gina managed to drink it out of politeness and felt the warm, swimmy feeling it brought to her head. Before long, she found herself telling the entire story of Aldus, of the past three years, sparing no detail, and ending in no fewer tears than when she first told it to Cheryl.

The woman listened patiently, not moving or reacting to a word Gina said. Her face was young, but her eyes seemed old, and they never strayed from Gina’s as they seemed to probe deeper and deeper into her soul. When Gina finished speaking, they sat for a while in silence, both perfectly still, until finally the woman got up from her chair, turned her back and walked into the bedroom.

Alone in the room, the fear began to take hold of Gina once more. She looked at the walls, at the masks that hung upon them, painted white to look like skulls. She looked at the piles of yellowed sticks which somehow she knew to be bone. She saw the rows of candles melted onto makeshift altars filled with coins and trinkets, and fought back the urge to run.

The woman returned a few minutes later with a cup full of foul-smelling liquid as thick as syrup. This would be the solution to Gina’s problem. If she drank it, she would have the love of Aldus Lamb. Gina’s eyes lit up and she reached for the cup like a child clutching for candy, but the woman pulled it back, explaining that while it would buy her the love she so desperately sought, the price was heavy indeed.

First, should she drink the potion today, it would not take effect for another ten years. Such was the nature of magic powerful enough to hold sway over forces like love and hate. To change either took time. Time, however was something Gina had plenty of, and ten years weighed against the course of a lifetime seemed like little time at all.

The second price, and by far the more grave, the woman explained, was that in that time, the drinker of the potion would be afflicted with nagging pains which would plague her night and day. Love and pain, after all, went hand in hand, and anyone wanting to experience true bliss must be willing to purchase it with an equal amount of suffering.

Gina thought about this for a moment. In the cup were the answers to all her hopes. In the cup were the realizations of her darkest fears. She would suffer, yes, but she was suffering now. Aldus Lamb would be hers. What were ten years of pain compared to the lifetime she would suffer without him? In the end, she took the cup, and as the woman turned away, drank down the contents in one gulp.

The woman gave Gina a piece of paper and told her to write the name of her heart’s desire upon it. She wrote Aldus’ name, large and bold, and with the woman’s hand to guide hers, dropped it into a gnarled old stump set upon a table. The woman told her to knock three times and leave an offering for the spirits on the altar. Gina emptied her wallet, and returned to work the next day, happier than she’d been since the day she first laid eyes on Aldus Lamb.

It was not long after that the first pains started.

They began in the pit of her stomach, writhing like a small rodent trapped inside her, nosing and nibbling, testing with its teeth for some way out. This, she thought, was not so bad. Uncomfortable, yes, but no worse than any number of aches she’d experienced in her life. If this was the price, then she would pay it easily. The next ten years would seem like nothing at all.

It wasn’t until the next day that the rodent grew claws. It tore at her insides, sending shocks of white-hot fire through her in waves, doubling her over with their intensity. She left work early and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed, unable to do anything but sweat and cry.

The pain worked at random. She might go for weeks without feeling it. Then, without warning, it would return, and never, it seemed, in the same place twice. One day, it was a snake coiled around the base of her spine, squeezing the bones until they ground together. Other times it was a drill, boring into the side of her head until she feared her brains would ooze out onto the ground.

The times when the pain went away became worse than the times when it was there, for she knew it would always return, though she didn’t know when or where. Waiting became a torture that haunted her sleepless nights and left her wide-eyed and shaking. When the pain returned, she welcomed it as a friend, for though it consumed her, she found solace in not having to wonder where it would strike next.

And so it went, on and on, year after year. Aldus Lamb continued to climb the ladder of success with the company, a fact made clear by the increasing size of his offices and the increasing circumference of his middle. The bosses were gone now, and Aldus had taken their place, guiding the company with a hand that was often wrong but never apologetic.

Gina remained in the same cubicle near a wall with no windows. Her hair had begun to gray, and hung in long straggles at the sides of her face, which itself hung long and weary above her sagging breasts. Her back had hunched and contorted with the constant shadow of her agony. Her legs lost their former shapeliness, and the men no longer strained to look at her as she walked by them.

Every day, she wished she’d never taken the witch-woman’s potion, wished she’d never allowed her body to be bent and her mind to be twisted. She wished she could have those hastily spent seconds back and push the cup away from her lips. But then she would catch a glimpse of Aldus, striding the hallways with his serious, almost noble bearing, and think that she could bear the pain at least one more day.

But one more day was becoming harder and harder to face. As the tenth anniversary of her agony approached, the pains became sharper and more frequent. They broke against her like waves, tearing at her flesh and gnashing at her bones. Those who passed outside the walls of her cubicle could hear her weeping softly to herself as she spent her days in hiding, doubled over and drenched with sweat.

It was on one of these days, when the pain burned inside her from her stomach to the back of her throat, when the thought crept into her head that all of her suffering could be for nothing. It grew like a cancer, pushing aside the pain and replacing it with worry and doubt. She had no guarantee the potion would work as the woman had promised, no guarantee, in fact, that her torment would ever end. Perhaps it would go on like this forever, her body filled with pain and her heart empty, without the love or even the promise of love to sustain her. Perhaps, even now, after all the years, the witch-woman was still laughing at her.

It was too much to bear. She had to know. She had to find out if all her suffering would bring her reward. There was still one day to go, just one day before he would be hers forever. Surely there would be some sign of it in his face, a gleam in his eye that would show her fortunes were about to turn. After all this time, there had to be some inkling that the ice around his heart was beginning to crack.

He was coming her way now, walking with that stride she knew so well. Surely, he would turn to look her way. He would stop and say a word, just one word, and that would be enough for her to know, and to endure this to the end.

She straightened herself, biting back the pain as it struck like lightning along her back. She smoothed back the tattered strands of her hair. Though it tore at her cheeks, she forced her mouth into a smile. She stood, feeling less like the woman she was and more like the woman she would be from this day forward, and she waited. She waited for Aldus Lamb to draw closer, and she waited for the word that would set her free.

But he walked by without saying anything. He walked by without even glancing her way.

Tears welled in Gina’s eyes as desperation stabbed at her insides worse than any pain she’d felt before. She watched him walk away, and knew that was how she would always see him, from afar, walking away from her. A wrenching stab shot through her insides, but she couldn’t tell if it was pain of her body, or of her heart. She didn’t care which. She didn’t care about anything anymore. Everything that mattered was walking away from her, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, out of sight, forever.
Unable to stand the pain and the doubt for a moment longer, Gina Wolfe flung herself over the balcony rail and her body broke against the atrium floor below.

She was buried the next day. She had no family, no friends to mourn her. Even Cheryl had long since moved on, and left Gina alone. Still, her funeral was well-attended. It was made a mandatory event, and everyone from the office was there. They stood in line, and one by one, passed by her casket, muttering their goodbyes as quickly as they could manage.

At the end of the line was Aldus Lamb. When he reached her side, he looked down at the face worn by years of cruelty. He shuddered with the pain of newfound loss, and fell to his knees. All heads turned to see his body wracked with sobs as he pressed his face against the cold wood of her casket. No one understood the words he forced out through the tears, except for one which they could hear him repeating over and over.

“Gina…”