Written by Morse
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Sunday, 24 January 2010

image for Life At The Moorview Institute-Chapter 6 Luther Does His Best Work at Night When ALMOST Everybody Else Sleeps!

The light from the full moon streamed into the small room through the colonial 12/12 paned windows, illuminating the sturdy antique institution desk.

In the corner was a neatly made up single bed, hospital corners sharply tucked in, the blanket pulled so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. Under the bed were four pair of shoes, a pair of cuddly rabbit slippers, a pair of penny loafers, the copper pennies were so bright they reflected the moon light, a pair of spit shined paratrooper boots and a pair of hand stitched custom made English brogans in Cordovan.

In the corner was an open locker with a small hanging section , 2 drawers, and two open shelves. Hanging neatly were two pair of starched uniforms in midnight blue, a tweed Orvis sporting coat with suede elbow patches and two pair of fine light weight wool slacks, gray and tan, and a gamekeeper's jacket with large pockets.

The drawers kept a sparse, but adequate selection of socks, belts, a small packet of ribbon bound letters, and a worn leather journal. On the shelves were neatly folded t-shirts, and a collection of undershorts, both briefs, boxers and ultra briefs. There were a few turtle necks and all were black.

The overhead light was controlled by a dimmer, which at the moment was on its lowest setting, and on the desk was a small study lamp with a green shade. The dimness in the room masked the institutional green concrete block walls, and the window had no curtains. The floor was 12x12 asbestos laden tiles from the 30's that to date has escaped the attention of a horde of 1-800 Class Action Suit Lawyers.

This then was Luther's room, in fact, Luther's world, except for the time he spent at his job as a guard at Moorview, a Job he had held for 10 years after a military career, 4 stints with local police departments, and a brief tenure with a Cape Cod radio station doing weather, sports and traffic.

Luther was well read, and a man of few words, and even fewer wants. Life at Moorview suited him well. The inmates for the most part were 'Normal', at least compared to the people Luther interacted with prior to coming on board.

The people at Moorview that really need to be controlled, with a few exceptions, were the people that worked there, if Luther took the time to think about it, which he rarely did.

In the background of the silence of his solitude, Luther finished polishing his web belt buckle with Brasso, a nightly routine after he shines his shoes and checked his locker to make sure everything was ship shape.

He field stripped his FN9 pistol, guns were illegal at Moorview, but Luther had been around firearms since he was 8, and would feel naked without one...and besides, you never knew what could happen in Illinois...Luther grimaced thinking back to the student riots of 1968.

He wiped down all the well machined parts, and applied the light coating of oil, checked the action on the slide, emptied and reloaded the three 16 round clips, testing the springs, and returned the weapon to his gun safe which was bolted to the floor in his locker. It was almost time.

The Rolex on his wrist beeped which wasn't necessary. It was exactly 1 a.m.
Luther could tell you down to the minute what time of the day or night it was without looking at his watch. He shrugged off his colleagues' amazement, for there were many things no one knew about Luther.

Tonight Luther wore one of his black turtle necks, a pair of black Nike sweat pants, a black 'do rag', and two pairs of heavy black wool socks. In his hand he held a black silk scarf as he silently let himself out into the hall which was silent except for the occasional sounds of metal expanding from the old steam radiators, and the furtive scuttling of the ever present field mice.

The rats were all long gone. Luther had seen to that. Very Efficiently.

Luther glided down the silent halls. For glided is the only way you could describe his movement. Fitting into shadows, avoiding the moonlight, pausing, listening, then purposefully moving down the long, silent, empty hallways.

Luther's room was in G wing, at the end which housed 40 patients that required little supervision. Every night the patients took their medicine from Nurse Edna Bitters, a mild sedative, and then later, in their rooms, usually had a little chaser of Famous Grouse they hoarded from their transactions with Herbie the Entrepreneurial Bus Driver who kept them supplied with skin mags, whiskey and condoms. All of the patients slept soundly. Every night.

Luther reached B wing without incident and paused before a door at the end of the hall. Reaching out, his gloved hand found the door knob, twisting slowly...it was unlocked, as it was supposed to be. He gently turned the knob, the well oiled hinges made no sound, another little detail that Luther never missed.

Slowly pushing open the door, he slid into the room, the moonlight bathing the figure on the bed in a surreal halo, causing Luther to swallow carefully, and bring his heart rate down. Normally Luther had a standing heart rate of 75, and in times of impending stress and imminent action, it had been known to rise to 95...still extraordinarily slow and controlled for a man like Luther and his abilities and talents.

Luther silently closed the door and paused, not moving, taking in air slowly through his nose, which also picked up a scent...almost animal like, mixed with memories of new mown grass in the spring, a freshly turned shovel of earth in a flower garden, and even the hint of the Lilly of the Valleys he remembered from childhood. His hands gently closed on the silk scarf.

When it came, the voice was low and breathless. " I thought you weren't coming. You're late!"

"Actually, I'm 22 seconds early...your clock is running slow. I''ll adjust it for you later."

"Oh, Luther, " whispered first year med student Eloise Altoid, her gossamer nightgown caressing her perfect figure as she lay poised fetchingly on the bed, " I do so enjoy our meetings and little games!"

Eloise was considered "Hot" by the staff and inmates alike. She had a perfect hour glass figure, slightly top heavy, legs of a ballerina, graceful but sensually muscled, and a butt that was tight , seductive and provocative
beyond description. Those that didn't know her well, thought she was shallow, clue less, and vapid.

Luther knew otherwise. Eloise was an acute student of English History and Literature and had a fertile fantasy mind, especially identifying with many of the central female characters she devoured reading during her off hours.

As Luther approached the bed, Eloise was heard to take an intake of breathe, and the pace of her breathing picked up.

"How is Eloise feeling tonight?"

"I'm especially warm tonight."

"Perhaps I should open the window."

"That might help..but I'm really, really getting warm."

"Maybe if you slide that silk nightgown down it will help."

"I'll do that...my skin feels like it's on fire!"

"Here, let me help."

"Oh,Luther, your hands are like the touch of a feather!"

"There...is that better?"

"I feel so free being naked!"

"Here...I'm going to tie your wrists together."

"Oh, Luther...I feel so helpless!"

"What are you reading tonight?"

"That wonderful Robert B. Parker and that sexy Spenser Character!"

"Is it that good?"

"Better even!"

"Why?"

"He's so strong, silent, and sexy!"

"Does that turn you on?"

"Yes Luther! "

"What do you like best about Spenser?"

"The sex stuff...he just takes what he wants!"

"Does he do this..."

"Oh...LUTHER!"

"And maybe a little of this..."

"Oh, Oh, Oh, Ahh....LUTHER!"

"And I bet he doesn't forget to do a little of this..."

"LUTHER, LUTHER, LUTHER....I live for this....AGGGGGGGGGGGG!"

"I think you should rest a bit."

"Oh Luther, you're just like Robert Parker!"

'How's that?"

"You talk like he writes!"

"I've studied him"

"He's so good with dialogue. And with his thingy too!"

"When all else fails, there's always my thingy!"

"Oh, Luther, when can we do this again?"

"Today's only Tuesday."

"I thought today was yesterday?"

"Ok, we'll meet again on Friday"

"Oh... Tomorrow will never come"

"It's always darkest before the dawn."

"Today,Tomorrow, Forever!"

"Time waits for no man."

"Oh Luther...this is so much fun. Who can we be next time?"

"I'm thinking Ted Turner and Jane Fonda"

"Oh Luther...inspired. Can I be Jane?"

"Hopefully...I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Give me a hint...I'm getting hot again!"

"Jane gets naked and kneels on the floor."

"Oh my God...Luther...go on!"

"Ted slowly takes off his pants and bends over in front of Jane."

"Oh, Oh....tell....tell me what happens next!"

" Ted tells Jane she can kiss his ASS and pretend its Ho Chi Min!"

"Luther...I can't wait...can you do me one more time before you leave?"

"You'll have to settle for a quick lap...I'll do the Butterfly."

"Luther..you read my mind...hurry I'm going to come thinking about it!"

"How do you like this for a tongue twister?"


"AHHHÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓÓ....HMMMMMMM HHHHHHMMMMMM!"

"See you Friday...don't forget to wear those coolie black pajamas!"

Luther left Eloise as silently as he had arrived (ed. note, Bet you thought Luther was going use the word 'come').

With a spring to his glide, Luther headed for the silent basement where he would shower, sauna and take a few laps in the pool before making his way back to his room, and get ready for just another boring day at Moorview.

Luther, really, really, loved this Fucking Job!

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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