Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Friday the 13th Part 2--The Trouble with Helen by be287m
   The Mercury Café.  I stare at the sign a moment longer and then check my
watch.
12:02 am.  Valentine's Day.
   This is good.  I take a deep breath and walked inside.
   I spot her immediately.  It is hard not to.  She is beautiful.
   I am vaguely aware of other patrons.  A boisterous party in the corner,
a couple speaking quietly with heads close together, an older woman reading
at a different table, two young men arguing animatedly to one side.
   But really, I only have eyes for her.
   She is still immersed in her book when I arrive at her table.  I clear
my throat.
   "Good book?"
   She looks up, intending to be annoyed, but her eyes meet mine.  In that
moment, her body jerks, as if she's suddenly been hit in the chest.  She
recovers and smiles at me.
   A dazzling blinding smile.  My pulse quickens.
   "I'm enjoying it, but the movie was better." She tilts the cover so I
can see.  O Brother Where Art Thou?  I smile in recognition.
   "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" I ask.
   "I would be delighted," she answers, then indicates the chair to her
right.  My stomach flutters as I join her, motioning to the waitress for a
refill.
   We talk.  The conversation ranges over literature, movies, philosophy,
European culture and the history of the ancient world.  There is much
laughter and a fair amount of flirting.  Hours pass before she reaches out
and takes my hand.
   "Jake," she says, looking deep in my eyes.  "Take me somewhere else."
   "Where else would you like to go?"
   "Hotel Constantinople." she says.  I sense that she is serious.  I also
sense that this suggestion is both completely out of character for her to
make and also completely right.
   "Hotel Constantinople it is," I reply.  She stands and we are on our
way.
   Arriving at the room, I open the door and gesture for Helen to precede
me.  She strolls into the center of the room and surveys it.  Then she
pulls a ring off her left hand and sets it on the nightstand.  I give it
only a quick glance as I approach her.  She turns to me, and I take her
into my arms and kiss her.  The heat of the kiss builds and she pulls back.
   "Please undress me, Jacob," she asks.  I oblige, slowly revealing her
exquisite flesh in small slow steps, punctuated by long pauses of sensual
caresses and kisses.  Along the way, my own clothes get scattered across
the floor.  Both fully nude, I lower her to the bed, molding our bodies
together, skin to skin.  I begin to kiss my way south.  Helen stops me.
   "No, Jake.  No foreplay.  I want you now."
   I smile and position myself per her request.  In a mere moment we are
coupled and the heat begins to flow.  I realize that I am in no danger of
an orgasm soon.  Helen, in contrast, seems to be in pleasure's continuous
throes.  It lasts for hours--laughing, moaning, kissing, loving.  We switch
positions regularly, delighting in the different sensations so evoked. 
Eventually, she lies beneath me and I sense the finale is near.  She senses
it as well and strives to join me.  With shouts and gasps, we climax
together and then collapse.  We lie still, just cuddling and breathing
deep. Then she speaks.
   "Oh Jake!  That was incredible!  I can't believe how good you make me
feel!" She snuggles in and then grows quiet.
   "There's one problem," she says, then stops for a deep breath.
   "I'm married."
   "Well, that's certainly a small problem," I reply, propping myself up
onto my elbow.
   She rolls onto her side, facing me.  I once again admire her
breasts--perfectly shaped with nipples surprisingly still erect.  I have
only seen one pair more perfect and I don't want to think about those
circumstances.
   "I don't love him," she continues, running her fingers through my chest
hair.  "It was an arranged marriage."
   "I didn't know that was still done."
   "It is, in some parts of Europe.  It was the same with his parents.  His
father is both a noble and a captain of industry.  His mother was on the
Olympic team."
   "So leave him."
   "I can't."
   Before I can say anything, there's a ferocious pounding at the door.  I
leap out of bed just as the door crashes open.  A wild-eyed dark haired man
rushes in.  He's holding a knife.  He sees Helen and screams in rage.  I
move between them too quickly to feel fear.  He rushes at me and I grapple
for the knife.  Quick blows are thrown as we wrestle, too fast for me to
track.  Then I successfully shove him to the side.  He slams to the floor
and lies still.  He's turning pale, looking at the knife that somehow ended
up in his gut instead of mine.  The blood is spurting out--I somehow hit an
artery.
   Helen screams.  "Jake!  Your side!"
   I look down.  There is blood pouring out of a wound just below my ribs.
I realize the knife did find my gut, albeit temporarily.  I begin to feel
the pain as the adrenaline recedes.
   Things get fuzzy.  I feel like I'm about to fall.  I close my eyes.
   I open my eyes.  I'm standing outside.
   The Mercury Café.  I stare at the sign a moment longer and then check my
watch.
12:02 am.
   Fuck!!!  God Damn Mother Fucking Rewind!!!
   I take a deep breath and walk inside.  I see Helen immediately, immersed
in her book.  I approach and clear my throat.
   "Good book?"
   She looks up, intending to be annoyed, but her eyes meet mine.  In that
moment, her body jerks, as if she's suddenly been hit in the chest.  She
recovers and smiles at me.
   A dazzling blinding smile.  My pulse quickens.
   "I'm enjoying it, but the movie was better."
   And so it begins again.  This time I suggest a different hotel.  I check
constantly over my shoulder, but see no one following.  It is another night
of incredible sex.  It ends the same as well.  He bursts in and we end up
fighting.  No matter how hard I try to avoid it, somehow in the fight I
stab him.  As he lies dying, I rewind.
   It takes me five rewinds to convince myself that I can't hide us from
him.  No matter the hotel, abandoned back room, or city park I choose for
our tryst, he finds us.
   I begin carefully checking the Café before greeting Helen, to see if he
is lurking in wait.  It takes me three rewinds to convince myself that he's
not around.  The clientele is just what I saw the first time.  A boisterous
party in the corner, a couple speaking quietly with heads close together,
an older woman reading at a different table, two young men arguing
animatedly to one side.  The staff is engaged in their duties and paying
little attention to Helen as she reads.
   The twelfth rewind, I spot something.  The older woman is holding her
cup with her left hand.  It has always been in her right.  I approach her
table instead of Helen's this time.
   "You.  You're different.  You're outside of the loop."
   She sets her cup down and gives me an acknowledging nod.
   "Who are you?" I demand.
   "Call me June." She replies coolly.
   "What's going on?  Are you doing this?" I feel my anger building.
   She remains silent.
   "Why?!?!" I spit out.
   "Do you really think I am going to let you kill my son?" Her voice drips
with disdain.
   "I don't want to kill him.  I just want to get Helen away from him!"
   "Her life is intertwined with his, no matter what that bitch and her boy
might think.  You cannot separate them as long as they both live.  And I
will not let you kill him."
   "So you want me to give up on Helen," I state.
   "Yes."
   "Why should I?" I'm feeling argumentative.  She senses my tone and
snorts.
   "Don't argue with me, little man.  You have no Chorda Aurea and you
wouldn't be able to get them in time even if you knew where to look.  So
you will keep doing this again and again until you do it my way." Her gaze
is full of disgust as she stares me down.
   "I rewound too many times to walk away empty-handed!" I fume.  She
snorts again.
   "You will rewind until you do what's right!" She nearly spits her words
at me.  I spin on my heels and storm off.
   I walk innumerable blocks until I calm down, the red tinge fading from
my eyes.  I am still angry, her words ringing in my ears, when I see a
familiar face approaching.
   Randi.
   I've fucked this woman literally a thousand times and seen her in every
mood from ecstatic to furious.  But never like this.
   So forlorn.  The tipsiness of a night of alcohol cannot cover the
haunted sadness in the back of her eyes.  It is a wan smile when she
finally notices me.
   "Hello Randi," I say, stopping my stride.  She stops too.
   "Who are you?" she asks.  Ah yes, I blew her off in the final rewind of
the 13th.  She doesn't remember me.
   "An old friend," I reassure her.  She's not quite tracking mentally, and
decides to accept my words.  Then her eyes water up and her lower lip
begins to tremble, but she does not cry.
   "Really?" she asks, "I don't have many friends."
   "Really," I reassure her.  "And right now, it looks like you need a
friend."
   With that, the tears start and I pull her into my arms as she begins to
sob.  I rub her back as she pours her sadness across my shoulder. 
Eventually she calms and starts to talk.
   "Last week," she begins, catching her breath between sobs, "Last week I
went out with a guy.  Funny.  Smart.  Attractive.  Good in bed.  We were
supposed to meet in a bar tonight.  He never showed!" She begins wailing
again and I hold her a little tighter.  I'm struck by how true this sounds
compared to the other stories she has told in other timelines, before I
stopped asking why she had come to that bar.  Her sobs wind down and she
pulls back.
   "I should find my car," she says.  I grimace, as her breath betrays her
incapacity to drive.
   "Randi, you can't drive like this.  Let me take care of you." She pauses
and then nods her head.  I turn her around and we begin walking.
   I know she lives nowhere near here.  Where can I take her?  Before my
mind can decide, my feet have led me to the front steps of Hotel
Constantinople.
   Randi doesn't ask any questions as I get a room.  Once inside, she
dashes for the toilet and I sit quietly until the sounds of vomiting fade.
She comes out of the bathroom looking more haggard than sad.  She sits on
the side of the bed.
   "So, do you wanna fuck?" she drawls.
   "No." Then as I see despair creep across her face, I hurriedly add
"Maybe in the morning."
   She smiles at that thought and lies down on the bed.  After a moment she
slides up to put her head on a pillow and rolls onto her side.  I watch
quietly until small snores begin to sound.
   I check my watch.  Not yet two a.m.  I could still get back to the
Mercury Café before Helen leaves.
   I think of Helen.  The most beautiful woman in the world, except
possibly one.  My blood quickens with memories.  I realize I could be in
this loop with her forever, if I understand June's meaning correctly. 
Night after night of beauty and sensuality beyond compare.  Absolutely
incredible sex.  As long as I'm willing to endure the unpleasantness at the
end.
   Randi coughs.  I look over.  Disheveled.  Unkempt.  A touch of vomit in
her hair.  Very unladylike snores.
   I give a deep sigh and then get up and go to the bathroom.  I return and
place the ice bucket and a towel on the floor near Randi's head.  Another
trip nets a glass of water for the nightstand and, after a call to the
front desk, a couple of aspirin.
   Randi seems to be sleeping more peacefully.  More quietly.  Like some of
our post-coital times in a different life.  A life, in retrospect, that
wouldn't be so bad.
   I grab a spare blanket out of the closet and try to get comfortable in
the chair.  It's been a long night.  And it's a long way to morning.
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