Unfinished (Historical Fiction) - By Harper Alibeck Page 0,11

than the Pope.

Bright red lips stood out, overshadowing Maria's lively eyes and painted lids. With a dress that looked like it had been poured on her, and a laugh that filled the room with a promise of debauchery, Maria Escola had taken Boston society by surprise. She was little more than an unpaid courtesan, and according to whispers she performed sexual delicacies on groups of men.

And liked it.

Lilith hadn't made up her mind about the woman. Firmly setting aside her own reaction, she returned her gaze to James Hillman who, she discovered, was now staring openly at Maria.

Lilith's mind made itself up right quickly. Whore.

“Thank you all for attending this lecture, titled 'On the Understanding of Sexual Inversion.' Before I begin, let me set clear expectations. 'Sexual Inversion' refers, specifically, to human beings who are attracted, sexually, to their own sex. That is, women who are aroused by and who have sexual relations with other women, and men who are aroused by and who have sexual relations with other men.” A wave of titters passed through the crowd. Burnham produced a tight smile, and continued. “There. Just so we're all clear. Does anyone need to leave the room? We have positioned smelling salts at all exit points, should the need arise.”

The crowd laughed openly.

“For as amusing – and uncomfortable – as the topic may seem, it is quite serious.” As Burnham continued his introduction, Lilith watched James watching Maria. Who watched the doctor.

James shifted his attention to Burnham. Much better, she thought, and then flinched internally. He looked like a Southie boy, someone so poor she could see through the soles of his shoes and find a piece of newspaper with the daily races printed on it. Irish, poor, and Catholic.

The perfect boy to bring home to her Brahmin father.

Perhaps she'd been hasty, giving her virginity to Jack Reed. James Hillman would have been far better specimen. Physically better, she mused, as an unfamiliar warmth pooled in her belly, just above her pubic bone, a swoon descending, making her a bit giddy and stupid.

And paternally better, as her father would have been apoplectic if she brought home a prime piece of “Irish Sewer Rat,” as he called the South Boston masses. “Good for cleaning chimneys and beating thieves.”

As Burnham explained lesbianism, Hillman stared keenly, absorbed in the talk. Then his eyes shifted, fast, like an ever-vigilant hawk, and shot a concentrated look of full attention on her, his look dark and serious. Normally undeterred by a strong stare, having been the recipient of so many from her father, Lilith nonetheless endeavored to maintain her composition.

This was no angry glare.

James's intentions were clear. With one long look he made the warmth in her nether regions turn to a white hot streak of need.

A hand shot up. Burnham pointed, and the audience member asked, condescension dripping like hot wax on a taper, “What good does lesbianism do, from a biological standpoint? Setting God aside,” he paused, furious whispers filling the room, “sex without procreation between a man and a woman is not productive. I would imagine that tribadism or other...proclivities between two women would be even less productive. Non-procreative sexual intercourse between a man and a woman does carry the chance of a child, while lesbian sexual activities carry no such chance.”

“Isn't that the point?” someone shouted. The crowd burst into laughter. Lilith looked away from James and searched the audience for the speakers.

Burnham's tight, tolerant smile quelled the din faster than any request for silence. “Indeed,” he spoke, drawing out the word. “Sex without procreation is, in fact a sin.”

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone!” someone yelled.

“Let me, who is a Stone, remind you to say 'she' as well!” Lilith cried out, amused and haughty with an affect designed to be heard to the rafters.

She had hoped for raucous giggling but, instead, was greeted by shocked whispers and a few titters. Face burning and body tingling with mortification, she sat down but held her head up high, back straight, breathing in and out slowly.

James Hillman's full-throated laughter burst forth and filled the hall. Bent in half, the man looked like Goliath after being hit between the eyes, but instead of pain, it was pleasure and mirth that sent him into convulsions. More men joined him, and slowly, the room greeted Lilith with what she had hoped for.

Acceptance.

Dr. Burnham rode it out. What choice did he have? Lilith's mix of emotions ranged from bewilderment to gratitude to lust,