Dark Eyes through a Black Veil

Everybody on the train noticed that Luke Jones wore an old, battered cowboy hat with his impeccably tailored dark grey tweed suit. But nobody on the train noticed Luke Jones himself. He shook his head ruefully. Six short years before, he’d ridden this same train, the Twentieth Century Limited, from New York to Chicago and it had been autograph hounds galore the whole trip. At the time he’d hated it. Now, it was his idea of heaven. He followed the porter to his private compartment, tipped the man a quarter he could ill afford, and collapsed onto the berth.

Without opening his eyes or moving a muscle of his tall, lean body, he visualized the contents of his pockets. Tickets for this train to Chicago and then the Super Chief to Los Angeles. Seventeen dollars and fifty-three cents in cash. A bottle of pretty good rye whiskey. The double-eagle gold piece that his parents had given him when he joined the A.E.F. and fought in the Great War. A small autographed photo of Louise Brooks. Nothing more. Everything else he owned in the world was in that suitcase beside the berth. Two suits, shirts and socks, ivory-handled straight razor with matching hairbrush, and a score of books of poetry and adventure fiction. Not much to show for thirty-eight years of life.

He’d spent his last twelve years in Hollywood, where he’d made eighty-one westerns, three dramas, and seven serials. And now he was going back...to beg for a job directing second-unit Western work at Monogram, one of the cheapest of Hollywood’s “Poverty Row” studios. At least it would be work -- if Morty would hire him.

But, the time to worry about all that was later! Luke Jones, now known to friend and foe as Two-Gun Luke – once known in Boston as Allan Garrett of Garrett & Sons Wholesale Fish – was renowned for his ability to worry about today’s problems tomorrow and tomorrow’s problems next week! He took the bottle of rye from his jacket pocket, took a slug, and waited for the train to leave Grand Central.

Two hours later, Luke Jones arrived in the dining car and was promptly escorted to his table. As usual, he grinned at the sight of the elegant table settings and fine linen tablecloths. For Luke, eating at the Stork Club in New York or the Brown Derby in Los Angeles could not equal the fun of eating on a moving railway train.

For instance, in the so-called finer establishments, you either ate with whoever you came with or else you dined alone. On the train, unless you tipped heavily, you never ate alone. He doffed his battered old cowboy hat and placed it gingerly on the seat beside him. He’d bought that hat in March of 1926, the day he’d been cast in his first featured role in a film, a silent called “Guns of the Pony Express.” He’d since worn that hat in every film he’d ever been in, even the three dramas, and, next to his beloved gold piece, it was his most prized possession.

“Nice hat.”

Luke was used to those words being spoken sarcastically; this time, they came in a soft voice, a voice both gentle and warm, a voice he found very appealing. He looked up and saw a breathtakingly beautiful woman dressed all in black standing beside his table. He rose to his feet and held out his hand.

“Good evening, Miss. Thank you. That hat and I go back a long way together and I like to treat it right. My name is Jones. Luke Jones.”

The woman allowed Luke to take her gloved hand and his eyes met hers. Even through the veil of her hat, her eyes were large, dark and provocative. Her hat, like her attire, was black and very stylish.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jones. Or may I call you Luke?”

He grinned, conscious of the petite elegance of the hand clasping his.

“You sure can, Miss…?”

“I am Mia. May I sit down? The maitre d’ said that this was my table.”

“Certainly, Mia.” Luke moved deftly behind her and helped seat her at the table. At the same time, he noticed her lithe shape within her sable gown, the grace with which she moved. He returned to his side of the dining table and seated himself.

“Be a pleasure to have such charming company for dinner, Mia,” he said, unfolding her napkin and handing it to her. “Last time I rode on this train I got to eat dinner with two Studebaker execs and a Southern Baptist minister.”

Mia smiled.

“Scintillating dinner conversation?”

Luke grinned.

“Wasn’t too bad. After the salad I bribed a porter to bring my Porterhouse and apple pie to my compartment. I said I needed to wash up…and exited stage left!”

Mia laughed softly. Luke liked the way her dark eyes flashed, even behind her veil. She was by far the loveliest woman he’d met in…well, since Lucy. God – was that four years? So it was. He turned his thoughts back to the present; concentrated on his charming dinner companion. She was an astonishing beautiful woman who seemed somehow…familiar? No, that couldn’t be. No one could forget a woman like this. Wishful thinking, undoubtedly.

“That’s an odd expression, Luke. Are you on the stage?”

“No, movies. Westerns. You are having the pleasure of dining with Two-Gun Luke, King of the Lariat!”

Mia had a slightly blank look on her face. Luke grinned, a smile of genuine good humor.

“Don’t let it worry you, Mia. I haven’t made a movie in almost two years. And most of my fans are…were ten-year old boys. They’d spend a nickel on one of my shows on a Saturday morning, watch it over and over ‘til they got thrown out, and then play at acting out the movie all week long!”

Mia smiled behind her veil.

“And, being that I am neither ten years old nor a boy…”

Luke caught her eyes with his, moved his eyes boldly down her body and then back up to her dark eyes once more.

“No,” he agreed. “You are not ten years old. And you’re definitely not a boy.”

Mia smiled and deftly licked her lips.

“I’m delighted you noticed.”

She looked him up and down with all the candor and explicit interest which he had shown in her.

“You’re not ten years old, either,” she said. “And you’re much more the man than the boy.”

She placed her gloved left hand casually upon the tabletop. Luke let his hand ease gently down upon hers and softly caressed the back of her hand with his index finger. Mia took a slow, deep breath and once more her veil-shadowed eyes caught and held Luke’s.

Her dark eyes intent upon his, Mia casually asked, “Just how much does it take to bribe a porter these days?”

Luke smiled at her. Not his trademark grin this time, but a warm, gentle smile.

“Four bits.”

“A Porterhouse and apple pie sounds marvelous. Don’t bother with a salad…I don’t need an appetizer…I want to get my teeth right into the main course.”

Mia softly disengaged her hand from his and rose. Luke rose as well, assisted her with her chair. Their faces only inches apart, Mia looked up at Luke and caressed his cheek with her gloved hand.

“Which compartment?” she asked.

“Thirty-one,” he answered. “Four cars back.”

“Don’t be long,” she told him, and walked slowly from the dining car, the eyes of every male diner upon her. Luke Jones watched her sway gracefully down the narrow aisle, overcame an almost overpowering urge to whistle, retrieved his cowboy hat, and hurried to find the waiter.

#

Luke Jones paused before entering his own compartment. He was still marveling at the breakneck pace at which events were unreeling. Even at the height of his movie fame, he’d never had anything like this happen to him. Maybe this kind of thing happened to Clark Gable or Ronald Coleman…but not to Luke Jones! And…he felt that Mia had genuinely never heard of him. So she wasn’t a star-struck nut looking to bed a Hollywood star. She was…what? Luke Jones shrugged…damned if he knew. All he knew was Mia was the most fascinating woman he’d met in years. He knocked upon the compartment door.

“Come in,” said a low, sultry voice from within. Luke removed his cowboy hat, opened the compartment door, and entered.

On a table beside the berth were plates containing Porterhouse steaks and enormous slices of apple pie. Luke glanced at them and realized that his appetite – for food, at least – had vanished.

“I believe that I may have shocked the waiter,” Mia said.

Mia lay on her side upon the berth, propped up on her elbow, facing the door. She wore her black hat with its veil, black gloves, and black stockings. She wore nothing else. Mia smiled up at Luke, who closed the door behind him, hung his hat upon a hook on the door, and then stood in the center of the compartment, looking down at her.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said, fully aware that it was trite; equally aware that it was true. “Who are you?”

Mia shrugged her bare shoulders and smiled.

“I am Mia. I am a poet, an artist, a writer. I am a traveler. I am a woman. And…I am yours.”

She swung to her feet and stood before Luke, kissed him at first gently and then fiercely upon the lips, and began to undress him. Luke Jones ceased to think and began only to feel. His hands brushed against her soft, bare skin as she slowly removed his clothing. Once he was naked, Mia stood back, looking him up and down, regarding him, licking her lips. She smiled up at him.

“And tonight,” she said, “you are mine.”

She stepped forward into his arms. He bent her head back, gently brushed her veil aside, and kissed her hard upon the mouth. She responded eagerly, taking his hardening cock in her gloved hand and caressing and squeezing until it was fully erect and rock-hard. Luke slid his right hand up her bare torso, found her breast, and squeezed her nipple, softly at first, and then hard enough to make Mia squeal with pain and delight.

Continuing to kiss Mia, Luke eased her down until she was sitting upon the berth’s edge. He knelt in front of her, kissed her left breast while caressing her cheek, while pinching her right nipple. Mia moaned softly. Luke sat back upon his heels, ran his hands along Mia’s thighs to the tops of her stockings. He began to slowly roll her right stocking down, along her thigh, over her knee, then down her calf and ankle. He followed the slow process by kissing each area of newly bared skin. Mia sat back on the bed, leaning upon her left arm, caressing Luke’s blonde hair with her free hand, watching him undress her, a soft smile on her lovely face.

Once her right stocking was off, Luke held Mia’s eyes while he slowly folded the silk into a ball and placed it upon a low shelf. Then, he repeated the process with her left stocking. Mia said nothing during all of this, simply sat and enjoyed the sight of this handsome man waiting upon her. Luke also was silent, relishing serving this beautiful woman.

And, once Mia’s legs were as bare as the rest of her body, Luke rested her feet upon his bare thighs and massaged them, rubbing Mia’s feet until she purred like a contented kitten.

Luke rose to his feet and sat down on the edge of the berth beside Mia, their thighs and hips pressed tightly together. He took her gloved left hand in both his hands and began to slowly remove the calfskin glove from her hand, stripping the glove off with all the panache of Gypsy Rose Lee. Mia was totally passive, sitting and watching as he removed the last vestiges of clothing from her splendid body. Within moments, both gloves were gone and Mia was entirely nude save for her hat and veil. Luke kissed her softly upon her fingers, then upon her lips, caressed her neck, and reached for her hat.

Mia raised her hands and gently blocked Luke’s effort. She smiled.

“My turn,” she said. She eased down from the berth’s edge, turned, and knelt upon the floor between Luke’s legs. She reached up, removed several large hatpins from her hat, and took the hat off, shaking her head, and revealing that her hair was thick and full, and hung in auburn curls down her back.

Mia knelt before Luke, reached toward him, and took his erect cock in both her hands, softly caressing it, enjoying its texture of warm steel wrapped in velvet. She leaned forward and guided his cock into her mouth, licking it softly and lovingly with her tongue. She took all of his cock into her mouth, deep enough to lick Luke’s scrotum with the tip of her tongue. Luke whimpered at this, causing Mia to nearly burst out laughing, so…she kept licking, listening to Luke moan, “Oh, God, don’t stop…but I’m ticklish!” Mia smiled around his cock. She didn’t stop.

Mia licked and sucked Luke’s cock for several minutes, her eyes closed, her body relaxed, her pussy dripping. Then, she felt two powerful hands upon her arms begin to lift her. She submitted, giving his cock one last lick as it slid from her mouth, offering no resistance whatsoever, allowing Luke to do whatever he liked with her.

Luke stood, lifted Mia entirely in his arms and laid her gently upon the berth. He stood above her, then sat beside her, regarding her, his gray eyes staring deep into her dark, nearly black eyes. He put his hand upon her breast and dug his fingers in, hard and possessive. She moaned loudly, the small room echoing with the sound of her passion. She took his cock in her hand, gripped it tight.

“Put it in me,” she said, her voice a throaty whisper. “Fuck me. Fuck me now!”

Luke turned his body, came down upon Mia, his cock sliding easily into her pussy. He felt the heat of her body entering him, felt his own passions begin to soar. He began to rock Mia in a gentle rhythm, locked his eyes upon hers, felt her body begin to respond, and then their bodies fell into the same cadence, even their breathing in unison.

Mia’s cries of passion grew louder and louder, filling the room. And then she came…and so did Luke…and then Mia came again, and again, and again! Luke continued to rock Mia, controlling both their bodies, mastering their lovemaking, easing Mia down from the heights they had both approached. Her cries grew softer, her breathing less ragged, and Luke, still staring into Mia’s dark eyes, saw the light of reason once more appear in them, replacing the overpowering emotions of a moment before.

Luke kissed her hard upon the mouth, then gently upon her throat. and then softly as a falling snowflake upon her lips. He stared once more into her dark eyes.

“Why can’t I stop staring at your eyes?” he asked her, fully aware that they were not the ideal first words after the passion they had just shared. Oddly enough, Mia seemed to find his words appropriate.

“Because the eyes truly are the windows to the soul, Luke. And our souls are now linked together, just as our bodies were – eternally, if we wish them to be.”

Luke surprised himself by taking her words seriously.

“How do you know that our souls are linked?”

“Because I’m not a slut – and yet, here I am, naked in your arms, your cock still in my pussy – and I’ve known you for about an hour and a half. Has anything like this ever happened to you before?”

He shook his head, his eyes never once leaving hers. Mia continued speaking.

“Our souls are linked, Luke. I knew it from the moment you stepped aboard this train and I saw that you had a book of my poems in your suitcase.”

Luke stared down at the naked woman in his arms, baffled.

“What…what do you mean?”

“That book in your case, ‘Whispers of Gold’, by Lady M, was written by me. I was Lady M.”

Luke stared at Mia, ready to protest…and the photo of the smiling woman on the book’s dust jacket leapt into his mind. Suddenly, he knew! Mia was telling the truth; she was the poet, Lady M. A poet who had been nationally famous ten or twelve years back, a poet whose most renowned poem had been turned into a movie starring Louise Brooks and himself, a poet who had…died.

“Yes, Luke,” Mia said softly, “I am dead. I have been dead for twelve years.”

“You died on a train. On this train?”

She nodded. “And I can never leave. I don’t know why. I just know that I wake up when the Twentieth Century Limited prepares to leave Grand Central. When we reach Chicago and the passengers are gone, I sleep. And then, I wake once more, back on the train in New York, ready to depart.”

Luke’s heart was breaking.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. You’re trapped?”

Mia shook her head and smiled a little, her auburn hair falling across her face.

“It’s not such a bad place to be trapped. This is the finest train in the world. It’s just that…it’s lonely. I meet people whenever I wish to appear to them, we talk and get to know each other a little, and then they go away. And…well, I’m shy.” She laughed. “I know, a shy ghost! Sounds stupid, but it’s true. I don’t get to know people easily. But somehow…when I saw that you had my book in your suitcase…something about you seemed so…right. I just had to…to…”

He smiled down at her.

“I understand. I know loneliness. My family is in the wholesale fish business in Boston. Garrett & Sons, established 1731. I’m the oldest son and so I was supposed to run the whole damned thing as soon as I came back from France. I came back alone – both my brothers and every pal I went over there with died in the war. And then Ellen died…” his voice caught slightly. “My fiancée died in the Influenza epidemic in ’19. Twenty years old, a so-called hero, and they locked me in an office for the rest of my life.”

Mia looked up at Luke, her eyes sad.

“And no one you could talk to about it.”

“Nobody. God, I hate fish!”

“So you left.”

He nodded.

“And you have no one now?”

“No, no one.” He smiled at her. “At least, I had no one when I boarded. Now…now maybe things are different. If you want them to be.”

Mia looked up at him, fear in her face. Fear and…hope?

“Luke! Don’t say that; don’t even think it. I’m dead, remember? I’m a ghost. I’m not real.”

Luke contorted a little, got his teeth on her nipple and bit down hard. Mia squealed with pleasure.

“Like hell you’re not real,” he growled.

Mia looked at him with love in her eyes. Her face was still filled with fear, but the traces of hope were growing.

“Luke, please don’t. Don’t raise my hopes. I do so want to be with you, but…”

He bit her other nipple. Mia squealed once more.

Luke looked Mia straight in her dark eyes.

“But…to be with you, dear Mia, I’d have to die. Right?”

Unable to speak, she nodded. Luke thought a moment.

“Mia, I don’t believe in love at first sight. I don’t believe in destiny. I don’t believe that we’re here for a purpose.” The hope in Mia’s eyes began to fade. “I also don’t believe in ghosts. And I remember enough of my Harvard logic classes to think that if I’m wrong about one assumption, the others might be questionable, too.”

Mia looked at him, hoping against hope, her eyes soft and pleading.

“I love you, Mia. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to explain it. I just know that I love you. And I want to be with you, whatever it takes.”

Mia smiled warmly.

“I love you, too, Luke. I want you to be with me – forever.”

They stared at each other, and then embraced for a long, long time. Finally, Luke rolled to one side, stroked Mia gently upon her cheek.

“So,” he said, “how do we do it? I mean…I have to die…but…how?”

Mia smiled, a broad grin that lit up her face like a theater marquee.

“Well, that part’s easy, darling. I’m going to fuck you to death!”

Luke stared at her.

“You’re not serious.”

“Roll onto your back, Luke. You’ll see how serious I am.”

He obeyed, and Mia lay atop him, her warm naked body pressing into his. She began to kiss him softly upon the throat.

“I’m a ghost, dear,” she said between kisses. “I don’t get tired…I don’t get sleepy. I can go as long as I like…as hard as I like. I can keep going for hours…days… weeks! I can fuck the very life right out of your body…make you love it…and I will!”

Luke Jones wondered fleetingly if he had lost his mind, if he was surrendering his life too easily. One more look deep into Mia’s dark eyes, however, and he was certain of his path.

Mia began to kiss Luke harder, and then began interspersing small bites amongst her kisses. Her hands seemed to be everywhere on his body at once, squeezing his cock, pinching his nipples, caressing his thighs. Luke felt overwhelmed…he felt helpless beneath her…he felt loved beyond any experience he’d ever had. Mia’s warm pussy slid with velvet grace upon his cock and clamped down upon it, locking their bodies together. Luke felt Mia’s mouth upon his, her tongue deftly exploring his mouth, her teeth nipping at his lips, her kisses driving him into a frenzy. His hands explored her body, pulling her ever closer, driving himself ever deeper inside her.

As Mia continued to make love to him, hour after hour, Luke felt his grip on the world begin to quiver, begin to loosen. The feel of the berth beneath his naked body seemed to shift and change. The light and colors in the room seemed to change, to drift about, up and down the spectrum. The size of the room seemed to expand and contract, its very shape changing as the hours passed. The clacking of the wheels and the train’s long, slow, mournful whistle were the only constants left for Luke Jones. He was conscious of only those sounds and of the body of the woman atop him, the woman who was reducing his world to her and her alone. His last thought before darkness fell was that Mia’s were the loveliest eyes he’d ever seen…

Chicago, September 13, 1938 – United Press International -- Luke Jones, 38, cowboy star of western films and famed as “King of the Lariat,” was found dead today in his compartment on the Twentieth Century Limited. The cause of death was not immediately determined. Mr. Jones began his film career as an extra in “Wildcats of the Brazos”…

The Twentieth Century Limited was only minutes away from departing New York’s Grand Central Station. In the bar car, a woman dressed all in black and a tall man wearing a dark grey tweed suit sat at a small table, drinking. The woman’s face was lightly concealed by a veil; the man wore a battered cowboy hat.

“It’s not fair,” Luke complained to Mia. “You can touch me; you can touch anyone. And I can’t touch you or anybody! My hands just pass through everything!”

Mia smiled at her lover, patted him on the hand, and held his drink up to his lips.

“Be patient, Luke. It will come. Soon, you’ll be able to feel anything you want. In two trips, maybe three, you’ll be able to hold me in your arms again, bite my nipples again, suck my pussy again.” She smiled mischievously. “Until then, I’ll just have to make love to you! You don’t mind being my fucktoy, do you?”

Luke grinned.

“No, not a bit.”

She offered him another sip of his drink, and poured the glass’s entire contents down his throat. Luke swallowed with difficulty and grinned at Mia.

“You like to play games, Mia. Wait ‘til I can touch you – I’ll give you a spanking you won’t soon forget!”

Mia squirmed on her seat.

“Ummmm, I can’t wait! Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I was spanked?”

A young couple at the next table, both of whom had been turning redder and redder as they listened to Mia and Luke’s conversation, abruptly rose and left the bar car.

“Oh, dear,” Mia said. “I think we embarrassed the honeymooners.”

“Do ‘em good,” Luke said. “They should be in their compartment, anyhow, fucking each other’s brains out.”

Mia’s face assumed a thoughtful expression. She gazed at the departing couple.

“They’re both awfully good-looking, aren’t they, Luke.”

He glanced after them, nodded.

“Especially her. Cute little ass.”

“Well,” Mia said, a remarkably innocent tone in her voice, “perhaps we could help them out. Show them what to do on their honeymoon, I mean.”

Luke was baffled. He stared blankly at Mia, held his arms wide in puzzlement. She continued.

“One of the advantages of being a ghost, dear Luke, is that we can ‘occupy’ other people’s bodies – temporarily, I mean.”

Luke stared at her in disbelief.

“We can?”

Mia grinned and licked her lips provocatively.

“Uh-huh. We can. We just enter their bodies and take over for a while. We feel what they feel, and control their actions – completely.”

“And how do they feel about that?”

“They never know. They just seem to feel a little forgetful about what happened to them. Does them no harm; does us some good.”

Mia abruptly downed the rest of her drink and stood up.

“What do you say, Luke? You ready for a good long fuck tonight?”

Luke rose and straightened his tie, adjusted his cowboy hat until it was low over his eyes.

“I sure am, ma’am. I was born ready!”

He offered his arm to the beautiful Mia; she accepted it with a wink.

“So, Luke…I hope you won’t mind too much…but, after all, this was my idea …so I think I should get first choice…and I believe that I’m in the mood to be the boy tonight. And, if you’re a good little girl, and show me a real good time, I’ll let you be the boy next time!”

Mia and Luke strolled toward the exit, toward the next car, in leisurely pursuit of their prey.

THE END

©2002 David Gustafson

Reader’s note: If you liked this tale, please try its conclusion, Durance in Black Lace.