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One day, Jenny walks into the room, her wide, flat, golden mid-western smile radiant, and holds up a shopping bag. “Got something for you, Ellen. We’re going to have FUN.”I am not the fun girl. I am serious, abstinent, still too skinny, and suspicious. I glance over my shoulder from my desk. Admittedly, I am sitting in bikini panties and my starter bra—just k**ding, it is a 32 B-cup thing. “What?” I ask.She whips it out. Rope. Coils of softly expensive-looking silky red rope.I am shaking my head as though to spin it off and send it rolling across the floor.Big cuddly Jenny comes over, takes my shoulders, hauls me to the bed, sits down beside me—Mother Earth’s hips pressed to my boyish hips—her arm around me, her frank face smiling.“You know you want to see what it’s like, Ellen,” she says, smile so warm, lips grinning, blue eyes like the sky in Iowa in autumn.She weaves a spell. “Naked, your legs tied apart, arms tied apart, so beautiful, luscious, and all those men, those hard men,. He said, “Your father insists you come to the palace.”Alice turned to one of the bodyguards. She said something in French and then gave an order. He reluctantly handed her his weapon. She took it, released the safety, and held it under her chin. “Either let us back on the plane, Uncle Albert, so we may return to the United States or I will pull the trigger. You can bring my dead body to my father if that’s what you two want.”She looked at me with sorrowful eyes. ‘Sam, I’m sorry. I will probably not be alive much longer. I will tell you that I have come to love you and your land.”I saw her finger tighten and I grabbed her hand pulling the pistol away from her head so that the shot went into the ceiling. I thought Albert was going to have a heart attack. I know I almost did. I said, “Alice, you’re better than this. Let it go. Go on to the palace. I’ll leave the country and go home by normal means.”She said, “No, Sam. This is a face-off. I will forever be a slave to my father unless I.
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