Chapter 7
Morning was announced by a bolt of lightning and a crash of thunder across the Cuvette Centrale. Patty slowly opened her eyes to the reality of their sparse accommodations. She lay on the cot in her sleeping bag, the machete safe in its canvas sheath beside her. As sudden as the thunder, came a wall of rain which hit the tent with a sizzling sound. Oh great, she thought, so much for my shower… She turned her head sideways to read the time on her wrist watch which lay on a recycled cardboard box that she had placed beside her bed. 06:20 Lots of time, she thought as she snuggled deep into her warm sleeping bag.
Celeste was already up. She had her white
cotton sweat pants on and an aqua blue T-shirt with “U of W” written in bold
white letters across her chest. Her hair was tied back with a burlap tie. She was standing in the tent silently going through
the motions of t’ai chi ch’uan, a
popular form of exercise mistakenly known as “tai chi”. Celeste was a student of the Yang style which,
although it does have elements of a martial art, is about health and focusing
the mind to a state of mental calm and clarity. She had committed to memory all of the 108
classical hand and body forms, though in her morning exercise routine she
stayed with the modernized 48 forms. T’ai Chi Ch’uan in its purest forms takes
advantage of the use of leverage in the joints of the human body, using precise
coordination and relaxation, rather than muscular tension, to theoretically neutralize
or subdue an opponent.
A student repeats the various taolu, or hand
and body forms, using complete natural ranges of motion over their centre of
gravity, and commits them to memory until they become second nature. This improves body posture and increases
circulation throughout the body through relaxation and deep breathing. Many people
think “tai chi” is about balancing the polar forces of ying and yang, when, in
fact it represents a state between “wuji” which is a state of neutrality, and the
polar ying and yang. This state, it is
said, is credited with producing great effect with minimal effort. The
philosophy, which has been refined by the Chinese since the 12th century, states
that if one uses hardness to resist violent forces, then both sides will be
injured as a natural consequence. However, if one meets oncoming forces with
softness, following its motion while maintaining contact until the incoming
force exhausts itself, the soft and the pliable will defeat the hard and the strong.
Celeste exhaled deeply, emptying her diaphragm. She was well rested, focused
and ready to start her day.
The sudden crack of lightning, and
rumble of thunder woke Roger up as rain began to drum on the tin roof of his
hut. He felt Christiana asleep beside him, her naked body entangled with his
own.
“Bon matin Beau, combine etes-vous?”
(Good morning Beautiful, how are you?) He said, rolling her petite body so he
could spoon up against her with his own. He readjusted the covers, letting his
face lay against her head. He kissed her affectionately behind an ear lobe. The
best word he could find to describe the scent of her hair and skin was
“organic” and as he inhaled, he enjoyed the wholesome scents of the rainforest. He let his lips brush her throat, ending up
on the corner of her mouth which he kissed, pulling her lip. She moaned a
sleepy groan, spooning into him with her thin body as she pulled his arm around
her. He held her for a few moments, becoming aroused by the warmth of her body
against his.
Christiana blinked her eyes against the
dim morning light, slowly becoming conscious of the rain on the roof and the
man’s breath in her ear, his body pressing against her. Her heart skipped a
couple beats with the knowledge that he wanted her. The girl had a rough start
in life; she was orphaned at six years of age, the victim of street violence in
Kinchasa. She joined a group of filthy
kids who wandered, half naked through the streets like a pack of wild dogs, begging
for their existence. Eventually she was
taken in by a kind street woman, who kept her alive by begging and stealing
food in the alleys of Burumbu. By the time Christiana was nine, she was taken
off of the streets by a slum lord who sold her to a restaurant as an errand
girl. Though she tried to keep up with
her chores, it seemed she could never please the owner’s wife and she was
slapped and beaten with a cane all too often.
She did chores around the restaurant in return for food, living in a
cardboard box in a lean-to on the back of the property. Her smooth complexion, large
brown eyes and shy smile was more of a curse than a blessing and by the time
she was eleven, men were forcing themselves on her. By age thirteen, she was
sold again, this time into the sex trade as a child prostitute in Kintambo
where she was introduced to drugs and alcohol, as well as many businessmen. She
learned to survive by numbing her emotions and doing what they told her to do.
She managed by distinguishing between the men who would abuse her, caning her,
slapping her with their hands or beating her with their fists and the men who
would only use her for the warmth of her body. She came to prefer the latter.
When she was sixteen, she was taken by a group of fishermen to a warehouse
along Le Beach Ngobila, where she was repeatedly gang raped, slapped around,
and then tied to a pole on a dance floor, ready to be used again. No words will describe the terror she felt as
she heard another group of men coming. Fortunately
for her, a sloppy knot in the cords around her wrists became her key to freedom
and she managed to escape. She ran for her life and hid under some tarpaulins
on a boat, until daylight, which is how Roger came to find her. Christiana was a sight to see with her uncombed
hair, tear stained face and ripped clothing. Purple blotches and bruises
covered her body. She scratched and
clawed her way out of Roger’s arms when he tried to pick her up and take her out
of the boat, so he left her in the boat and brought her back to the camp, where
she was taken better care of than she ever had been in her life. Madeleine took her under her wing, found her clothes
and gave her a safe place to sleep. The
food was plentiful and the work was easy. As she healed from the unspeakable
tortures she had endured, she was overwhelmed by the love she felt for Madeleine,
and for Dr. Cooper and the others, but especially for Roger, her rescuer. Since
giving herself to him, she prayed every month that she was pregnant with his child,
while Roger prayed that she wasn’t. Christiana rolled over, enjoying the feel
of Roger’s hands as he caressed her skin.
Roger threw one leg over Christiana,
playfully pinning her down as he began to make love to her. She wiggled beneath him, a subtle smile
showing at the upturned corners of her mouth.
Her eyes locked on his as he kissed her, stroking her hair with his
hands. He began to work his way down her
body, pausing here and there as he attended to each of his favourite erogenous
spots. His tongue licked a slow X across
each of her soft nipples, and one at a time, he gently tugged on them with his
lips while they grew hard in his mouth.
Cupping each small breast in a hand, he sucked the nipple deep into his
mouth, stimulating it with his tongue. He
placed his head on her chest and listened to her quickening heartbeat,
triggering him with a memory of what he had learned about human sexuality in his
studies on neuroscience years ago.
Not unlike bonobos, female homo sapiens
experience a surge of “love drugs”; hormones actually, which are injected into
their blood streams and on to the hypothalamus in their brains before, during
and after having sex. Millions of years of having to raise cave babies by
themselves created a very natural hormonal response for a cave woman to want to
attract and form a pair bond with a healthy able-bodied hunter, gatherer and
protector. When a female of the species meets,
and is attracted to a suitable male, she experiences a surge of oxytocin, which
can lead to a willingness to let him rub his naval against hers. Oxytocin is released into the blood during
hugging, cuddling, sensing of pheromones, oral nipple manipulation, touching,
kissing and of course all forms of foreplay.
Oxytocin was first known by scientists
by how it surges through the brains of newborns and their mothers following
childbirth. Besides telling a new mother
to produce milk, this hormone promotes intense feelings of attachment and
calmness. Both men and women are affected by oxytocin but women’s brains have
more neural receptors sensitive to oxytocin, and this accounts for their need
to cuddle after sex, to satisfy that need for attachment. If that wasn’t love,
he reasoned, what was?
The physical and emotional effects of
this flood of oxytocin include increased sensitivity of nerve endings,
involuntary muscle contractions, increased heart rate, plus the desire to touch
and be touched. As a woman surrenders to
these feelings, it leads to even bigger surges of oxytocin, as well as
adrenaline, dopamine, serotonin, vasopressin and cortisol into the blood and
into her brain. When adrenalin and
cortisol hit her brain, she starts to perspire, her heart races, she gets butterflies
in her stomach and her mouth goes dry.
By this time, Roger had pulled the
covers back and had worked his way down to the foot of the bed, gently kissing
his way down the crease at the top of her thighs. He parted her soft pubic
hairs and with his mouth, entered her outer labias, breathing in her feminine
scent. The male of the species is not
immune from hormonal surges either and as he tasted her and smelled her, he
stiffened, a couple million years of evolutionary programming hard at work. He
continued exploring her inner labias with his mouth, gently sucking on her
clitoris while intermittently licking her and penetrating her with his tongue.
She began to vocalize her pleasure, yet another evolutionary hand-me-down used
by nature to excite other males and encourage them to participate. She ran her
hands through his hair, pulled her legs up and bent her knees, ready for him.
As he continued pleasuring her, she thrust her hips at him, her heart beat and
breathing rapid. As he continued to
excite her, he listened for her to swallow, injecting saliva into her dry
mouth.
Bingo. The female homo sapien was ready
for copulation.
Knowing it was time, he slid back up her
body and positioned his hips above hers. He gently lifted her head, took out
the pillow and threw it away, preferring to hold her head in his own hands as
they made love. Watching her eyes, he slowly
entered her, watching as her eyes rolled back in her head. She tossed her head back, exposing her
throat, as she pulled his body into hers. He began to move. Slow seductive
movements at first, but he gradually lost control as he repeatedly entered her,
sliding the length of him deeply into her and withdrawing it again and again.
Christiana was beside herself with
pleasure. If the look on her face was any indication of the hormones flooding
into her bloodstream, she was definitely feeling the effects of oxytocin in her
brain.
After a few moments, Roger was breathing
fast and his heart was beating hard. His back suddenly stiffened, and he raised
up on his arms as he thrust deep into the girl one last time.
Modern brain scans show that when
testosterone and endorphins in ejaculated semen meet a woman’s cervical wall,
females receive a spike in testosterone, endorphins and oxytocin. Both men and women feel the effects but to
varying degrees; a man is said to release oxytocin into his blood stream during
and immediately after sexual climax, but a woman feels a slower release of
oxytocin during the arousal phase, and then continued releases following orgasm.
The endorphins float around her
bloodstream for 28 days making her more calm and bringing her a sense of
well-being. The same endorphins only
last 24 hours in a man’s blood stream.
There is a brief moment in time, when
males and females experience a break from all of their differences. A time when the world stands still and all
that remains is the synchronized beating of their hearts. That’s right, thought Roger; post copulation,
the brief, yet intensely interpersonal moments after sex. His blood stream now
saturated with oxytocin as well, he collapsed onto Christiana’s chest, his
fingers searched for hers as he found himself clinging to her. In that moment,
she was as much his mother as his lover, and he needed her.
They lay there, blissfully listening to
the rain on the roof as the breakfast gong sounded.
