The Queen's Destiny, memoirs of a Lightworker (Book 3 of The Queen's Saga)

PROLOGUE

I called my mother’s number with Skype and after a few rings she picked up her phone.

Hello, Hermione speaking.

Hi mom! It’s me Paula, I started with a happy tone.

Oh hi! she answered enthusiastically. Paultje, I was just thinking of you!

I smiled. What a coincidence mom.

Isn’t that nice?

Yes, it is. We have that often, don’t we?

Yes, we certainly do. And how you’ve been?

Just wonderful mom.

And how’s Honza?

He’s great, I answered. He’s preparing our lunch.

Honza is such a great cook, you lucky girl. I miss his food. But tell me, how’s your book coming along.

That’s exactly the reason why I’m calling. I’m working on a chapter about you, but I’m missing some details. In general I know how you grew up and how you met Eppo, but I would like to have a few more facts. Do you think you can write down a few sentences for me?

Of course, she answered willingly. It will be a pleasure. I think I’ll have some time tonight and then I’ll email it to you.

Thanks mom. That would be great.

Oh! I haven’t told you this before, she continued excitedly, but I auditioned for the ‘Nutcracker’ again.

And…? I said slowly to build up the tension.

I got accepted! she answered as if this was the very first time.

Of course you got accepted again. There’s nobody who can dance the role of ‘the countess’ so well as you can, with your natural grace and grey hair. Oh mom I’m so proud of you; seven years dancing in the ‘Nutcracker’. You’re sixty-five and still performing!

It’s my biggest joy in life, ballet, she added.

I know. Listen mom, I have to teach a voice class, so I don’t have much time to chat. We’ll save that for next time alright? I suggested.

Sure sweetheart, my mother answered.

Doei!

Doei!

It took a while for my mother to respond so I made a head start and send her the result, and asked her to read through it and tell me if everything was correct.

Two years after the Second World War, in 1947, my mother was born. She was called Liesbeth Liebe. Her father was a very handsome man who resembled Sean Connery. Her mother wasn’t very pretty, but she made up for it with her warm and charismatic personality. My grand parents were both very artistic people.

My grandfather was a professional photographer and professor at the ‘Art School for Photography’ in The Hague. He was also a talented painter and his favorite subjects were water, boats and ports.

My grandmother was a performer and ballet dancer who loved the stage. That didn’t come as a surprise, as her parents had a big costume company for opera houses. She had her own ballet school, which was located at the back of the house where my mother and her younger brother grew up.

At the age of seventeen my mother became pregnant. She had been frolicking in the dunes with my charismatic father, who was a family friend at the time. My father’s mother, whom I’ve never met because she had died in a traffic accident before I was born, was good friends with my ballet-dancing grandmother.

The pregnancy was an accident. My father had no intention of getting married to this unworldly and innocent seventeen-year-old girl. He actually disappeared from the stage until long after I was born. Monster, the village where my mother grew up, was a strict Christian community, and having a baby out of wedlock was a great sin. Nevertheless, my grandmother insisted that no abortion was to take place. A precious little baby girl named Claudia Maria Liebe was lovingly welcomed into the home of my grandparents on January 21 of 1965.

The first two years of my life I was loved beyond imagination and spoiled with attention like a little princess, but I think that those first two years created the foundation of my natural happy and positive outlook on life. The ballet studio of my grandmother formed the background of my very first memory; me dancing and twirling around in an enormous tutu, admired by all my grandmother’s ballet students, who simply adored this cute two-year-old toddler.

My father didn’t completely disappear from the face of the Earth, because soon my mother got pregnant again. My brother Leonard was about to join our family, so my parents decided to give it a try and they got married. Soon my mother’s name was changed into Hermione and my name was changed into Paula. At the time my father was studying with the Sufi’s and the priest had determined with which letter our names should begin, as each letter has a certain vibration that matches your character. I liked Paula better than Claudia.

Five years later my mother – with fear for her own life and that of her three young children – escaped from the extreme violent abuse inflicted by my father. With a very successful business, a sixteen-room villa and a good lawyer, my father convinced the judge that he was able to offer his three children a better upbringing and education than a troubled young woman who hadn’t even finished high school.

I never resented her for leaving us with my father. Raising three abused children, unruly and rebellious, would have been too big of a challenge for this fearful and beaten up girl. The fear for my father’s violence was paralyzing. She was done fighting this battle. Many years of joy and laughter had been taken from her. Now was her time to live life.

After three years she remarried with Omar, a kind hearted and exotic looking Moroccan man, and from their love my little brother Rachid was born. They had a fairly happy marriage, but after twenty years they still decided to each go their separate way in order to not ruin the friendship they had. They’re still good friends.

My mother is a very resilient woman. Although she had to give up her career as a professional ballet dancer because of her pregnancy, she did finish school and even got her papers to start her own business. Ever since she has successfully been running her own company where she has been creating beautiful high-end interior curtains and other decorations.

We always got along really well, my mother and I. It was more of a friendship than a typical mother daughter relation. There were periods that we went out a lot together. We both love to dance, so we were frequent visitors of dance raves, with the occasional enjoyment of ecstasy.

My sister Lucinda has always been very critical of my mother - I think at times even detested her. She was only four when my mother abandoned her. I could understand my sisters reasoning and concerning a few occasions she was absolutely right. There were certain social ethics and standards my mother was completely oblivious to. And sometimes she has trouble really listening to what you said. And another long list according to my sister, but I chose to focus on all the wonderful things about her.

She is kind hearted, genuine and unique. She is spiritually very open-minded and she did read every single book I have recommended to her. She’s completely herself, honest and has no trouble speaking her mind. Although a little judgmental towards other people, she takes in criticism most graciously. My mother will not easily complain, on the contrary. She’s a very positive person, truly grateful for the blessings in her life and happy about the little treasures around her; her ballet classes and her cats, and her nieces and nephews and grandchildren. She’s a sweetheart.

A few days later I received an email from her.

Hi Sweetheart,

It’s correct, but when I was pregnant I did everything in my power to finish high school. Sometimes I had to puke in the morning and then I went to school a little later in the day, but I had to get my diploma, which I did.

Other then that you’ve captured everything accurately. You have a nice writing style. I’m very curious to read your book.

Love,

Mom

CHAPTER 1

YOUR LIGHT WARMS MY HEART

Playa del Carmen, September 2007

My dearest Honziku,

It feels so strange to be living with this time difference that we both find ourselves in. When you go to bed I still have the whole evening in front of me and when I wake up, your day is already half way. But at this moment it’s not that bad. Last night I went to sleep early, at eight o’clock and then it was four o’clock in the morning for you. And right now for me it’s four o’clock in the morning and you must have woken up about an hour ago.

I’m so disappointed that we can’t exchange text messages any more with our cellphones. I immensely enjoyed those short messages about what you were doing and how you were feeling, simply a sign that were thinking of each other. I’m going to fix this problem, but considering the Mexican pace with which things get worked out, that may take a little while. For now I’ll just write you a beautiful story at the end of the day, so you can read it in the morning when you open your emails and make that a part of your daily routine. I love to write. It’s one of my favorite forms of creative expression. And in this manner I would like to acquaint you with my life here in Mexico.

I was very curious as to how I would react to Mexico this time, since I’ve been so focused on a future with you in Europe and had already distanced myself emotionally from my life in Playa del Carmen. As you know, the Universe and her hardworking assistants often help us in various and unexpected ways to see the things we need to understand in life. What immediately caught my attention was that upon my arrival at the airport, and after inquiring where I could retrieve Guapo, I ran into one of my dear friends in Playa. Big Argentinian Carlos had just returned from Havana, Cuba and I received a warm hug and a shower of endearing words of welcome from this enormous man.

Paulita! I’m so glad you are back. I missed you. We all missed you. We need you. I need you. I need your beautiful energy around me. You look so radiant! Are you happy? Carlos asked me with sincere attentiveness.

Yes, Carlos, I’m very happy. I have a little family in Europe now, I answered with a loving smile on my face.

Oh Paulita, I’m so happy for you. You really deserve to be happy. We’ll talk soon and I’ll bring a bottle of Champagne, he said before he parted to retrieve his luggage. He immediately made me feel at home again.

I took full responsibility for the problematic arrival of the kennel of Guapo. More thoroughly I should have investigated the procedures of returning with a dog at a Mexican airport, especially when the Dutch and Mexican sources of information contradict each other. Again it was a well-known exercise in learning the Mexican amount of patience. I had to leave him behind for lack of the correct papers from a Dutch veterinarian, but yesterday afternoon they finally delivered him in front of my house. I noticed how restless and incomplete I felt without Guapo, especially after those intense months in Holland and the Czech Republic where he was always by my side.

I noticed that Dick was slightly disappointed that I was not able to parade with him on Fifth Avenue that first evening, because I was physically and emotionally completely exhausted. It’s stimulating for him that he staying at his own place, an apartment he rented, and that he will venture out by himself. In the old days we were together day and night. I’m sure you can imagine that I was completely pooped after two weeks taking care of this man. Every night we would go out for dinner with the accompanying amounts of alcohol, which basically is not that bad, but my daily routines of teaching yoga and running my office simply continue. Sometimes I feel that I’m taking care of an intelligent, but completely dependent little boy. I think you get the picture. Either way, tonight I will have to give ‘act de presence’ and make my appearance at the famous Fifth Avenue.

As expected, I woke up very early that first morning in my own home and I took the luxury of spending hours of slowly waking up and enjoying my very own King-size bed with fine Egyptian sheets. Numerous times that night I woke up with images of the surroundings of the apartment I was so generously offered by my mother’s ex-husband Omar, during my stay in Holland. You know that bed very well by now. But slowly the essence of my romantic queen’s boudoir started to trickle through.

Honziku, I missed you terribly. I missed the strength of your body, the warmth of your love and your beautiful hands that softly caressed my body while we fell asleep. I missed the rhythmical turning of our bodies from one intertwined position to another, and how we would wake up with thick, sleepy eyes and wish each other a good morning with the most blissful look on our faces.

But still, it was wonderful to observe the first rays of sun that colored the sky with soft pick and orange hues. I listened intently to the typical sounds of our tropical birds that filled the air, which tones always make me feel home again. One black species I have lovingly renamed the ‘Playa Kwikstaart’. From the energy in the air you can feel that most people are still floating in a dreamland and you can feel a kind of serene and mystical silence.

In a new state of mind and with a different look on life, I enjoyed the spaciousness, the peacefulness and the colors of my home. Actually, I never expected to enjoy my penthouse with such renewed appreciation. I started soft Yoga music from my little stereo, burned a stick of incense and ignited some sage to cleanse all the rooms with it’s purifying smoke. It felt so good to be in my space. Within two hours I had unpacked my three suitcases, rearranged my apartment to my specific taste and wrote down a ‘to do’ list for the day to come.

By nine o’clock I arrived freshly groomed at my office and took my two girls in the arms; Lulu and Magda. After a more than warm welcome I gave them their glass earrings from Prague. It was truly beautiful to share the joy of seeing each other. It was good to be at my office again. These girls love me and I could see how happy they were that I’m back. I felt how incredibly happy they are that I have you in my life, together with your two little angels.

As if only two days had passed, instead of almost three months, our morning ritual immediately was resumed. My familiar breakfast of one liter of freshly mixed fruit juices and a typical Mexican ‘Tamale’ was immediately ordered. You’ll love those, for sure. It’s steamed cornmeal rolled in banana leaves with a variety of fillings. I like the ‘colado’ version, which has a very soft cornmeal filled with chicken. It comes with a mild tomato sauce, but the hot ‘Habanera’ sauce is completely wasted on me.

Then we went through my ‘to do’ list and notes were scribbled down, phone calls were made and arrangements prepared in order to have my Beetle running again, my cellphone connection re-established, Guapo released from custody and a couple of minor details. A few old and potentially new clients called and before I could realize it, my agenda was full.

Honza, it felt incredibly good to be back. To tell you the truth, it astounded me a little bit. After seven years this place has become my real home and that doesn’t suddenly change, even after a life changing summer with you.

The rest of the day was filled with meeting many friends, acquaintances and old lovers. Everybody reacted equally warm and enthusiastic at my return and they noticed the radiance a woman is illuminating who is deeply in love. Time and time again I was surprised to learn that people had really missed me during my summer in Europe. It felt as if my presence gives them energy and as if that energy nurtures them. I don’t know how else to explain what I felt from them. Of course you understand that everybody can’t wait to meet you.

Honza, I’m pleasantly surprised that, after this magical summer with you, I still feel so incredibly home here in Playa. I do see this town, or actually a small city by now, differently. I must admit that I feel less attached to Playa. But I love the feeling of belonging somewhere; the village where everybody knows who I am; where I find a pleasant smile and a waving hand in every street when I pass by on my bike.

In a couple of hours I will be teaching my first yoga class again. I can’t wait to share my new loving energy and inspiration with my yogi’s and yogini’s. I know you understand what I mean.

Honziku, you are in my thoughts constantly. Even though you are living on a different continent, you are very close to me. Our lights are now connected and I can feel how your light warms my heart.

Paula

CHAPTER 2

NEEDLES AND NEEDLES

Playa del Carmen, September 2007

Dearest Honziku,

It had rained during the night. The early morning did start with peach colored reflections from the first sunrays, but it remained clouded nonetheless, with an occasional mist of drizzling rain showers. This kind of weather is a welcome change to the hot August days when the average daily temperature can rise up to thirty-six degrees Celsius. It’s absolutely warm, even hot at times, but it has never felt uncomfortable for me. As you may understand, to find myself in a constant state of moistness is not a complete foreign concept to me. These temperatures also give me a sense of freedom, especially at night. Imagine you’re sitting outside having dinner at a restaurant or you’re going out dancing, cruising around a little, and you can wear your thinnest and most skin baring shirt or dress, because it’s so warm at night, and also because it’s possible. It is possible because there is that kind of freedom here. Even if the same high temperatures would be found in Holland for months on end, I would never consider wearing the same wardrobe as I wear here. Playa gives me such a feeling of freedom to be who I am, how I am and in which way I wish to express myself in absolutely everything.

But still, with the passing day, biking from one appointment to another, I clearly noticed that things have changed over the years. A large part of the international adventurers are moving away or have already moved to smaller communities down South that are less touristy, like Tulum, Bacalar and Mahahual. This city has grown and matured without a soul, and I’m talking about a theater, an orchestra or a library. After having received such a rich amount of culture in Prague, this was the first time I noticed this lack of cultural refinement so clearly.

Nevertheless, this place continues to have a lingering energetic attraction, but I did see that many of us Light workers have already finished their energy work here.

Anyway, enough about these kind of themes for the moment. Right now I’m lying naked on my bed with a big stack of down pillows propped behind me, my little laptop squeezed between my thighs and belly, and a large box of exotic dark chocolates within reach. And my left hand carries a glass of red wine, but that goes without saying. I’m down to three glasses an evening instead of the three bottles I could easily drink when in the inspiring company of you, so I’m pleased. Without any problems I’ve also quit smoking. I know, it was just a summer fling, those cigarettes, but considering my physical discomfort, a workload of stress and missing you terribly, I think it’s quite an accomplishment. So all in all I’m kind of proud of myself. I feel the energetic stride returning when I run up and down the flights of stairs to my penthouse. Ten minutes ago that was to welcome Guapo back from his round of trash bins or his search of a sexual encounter with an attractive bitch. As expected he has easily found his old routine back. It was the beginning of the evening and we stood in front of the gate that leads to the apartment building.

So…? Are you coming up or did you have something else in mind? I asked him friendly.

Mom, I’ll be back in a little bit. Alright? he answered with his eyes full of human expression.

Sure honey. I’ll hear from you when you need me to open the gate. A few hours later I heard him barking and I could finally finish this chapter and go to sleep.

It’s four o’clock in the morning now and I have slept a full seven hours and you have just dropped of Jaap and Gaby at the airport. The lobby of the Ibis hotel – I agree that the Mexican Caribbean might be a little too exotic for them at this moment. Exotic or not, I’m reserving my ticket today for my return to Holland. Just like you, I need something to look forward to. After this past summer trip I’m practically broke, but I’m sure I can manage to squeeze out this visit. I would like to come right after the weekend, on Tuesday the 9th of October, for three weeks. What do you think? You’ll be filled with stories about your weekend with Count Kinski and I will be completely energized from that workshop with Drunvalo Melchizedek. What a beautiful emerging of events. That can’t be a coincidence. I’m sure we’ll talk much more in the future about the serendipitous presence in many events and situations in our lives.

Finally, yesterday afternoon, I was able to get an appointment with my acupuncturist Fausta. After the treatment I felt a temporary improvement in my shoulder and arm, but at the same time I felt that the uncomfortable sensation would return. We’ve made another appointment for this coming Friday and next week I’m seeing the ‘egg lady’ Maria for an energetic cleanse.

The last time I had seen Fausta was when I had just thrown myself into that spring adventure with that big black musician called Paris.

I will break his legs if he’s deceiving you, she had said moments before her departure for Italy.

Oh well, life can have it’s unsuspected twists and turns, often caused by people you least expect it from, don’t you agree? They are all valuable lessons in life. This time Fausta was curious how my adventure had developed.

Well, Paris... That story turned out to be a big lie, I answered. But he was an angel in disguise, because he guided me towards Holland. There I met my childhood sweetheart and his two sons and now we have a little family, I was happy to inform her this time.

How are you feeling? she asked while gazing deeply into my eyes.

Oh Fausta, I feel so fulfilled, I answered passionately.

I can see that, she commented with a warm smile on her face. I’m truly happy for you and I’m even happier that you are back in Playa. What is his birth date?

That was last Monday, he is from 1950.

Then he is a Tiger. He is a strong man.

But so very sweet…

Paula, you are very sweet as well…and very strong…

We continued to talk a little more and I told Fausta about my complaints and my suspicions where those roaming pains came from. When she was finished inserting around a dozen needles in my arms, belly and back, I asked what the origin of those pains could be, if they didn’t come from the negative emotions I thought Lisa was projecting on me.

When Fausta said that these specific areas could be an indication that unresolved emotional grief was presenting itself, a cascade of words erupted from my mouth and the areas on my body where the needles were inserted started to burn. That was an unquestionable sign that all kinds of things were healing. I told Fausta about the many occasions over the past few months that I had cried in your presence, tears of joy and happiness, tears of old sorrow and tears of immense gratefulness for having you in my life.

Once I got home I calmly seated myself at the round table on my balcony with a glass of red wine and a little joint, enjoying the view and the sounds of the neighborhood. Again I absorbed the essence of Fausta’s words and slowly tears started rolling over my face until I was crying my heart out. I realized how incredibly lonesome I have felt over the years. The past year forms a stark contrast against this newly regained serenity. Especially now that I’ve returned in my own home and that I’m feeling that spiritual peacefulness here again. How can I reconcile a healthy lifestyle, running a successful company and being a spiritual inspiration for many people, with sticking needles in my veins at night when nobody is watching?

Soon the images of my sad childhood surfaced, just as my many addictions and the long struggle to crawl out of that dangerous misery. I was able to make a success story out of my life, but eventually a wall of loneliness enclosed me. I simply have so much to give; so much love, so much knowledge, wisdom and humor. I have so much warmth to offer, so many caresses to share and little gifts to give, only to come home every night all by myself for more than ten years.

And then such a beautiful image appeared in front of me. You were walking next to me with your beautiful long grey hair, those sweet flirty eyes and that warm boyish smile of yours. Then you stopped walking and full of love you looked at me. Tenderly you took my face in your beautiful hands and you placed a long sweet kiss on my lips. Then you put your arm around my shoulders and we continued to walk.

Paula

CHAPTER 3

MEXICAN MAFFIA

Playa del Carmen, September 2007

Dearest Honziku,

I have such an incredible beautiful and comfortable life here in Mexico. I do work hard, but I’m my own boss and I can do as I please, where and when I want to. That freedom is priceless. Early this morning, minutes before six o’clock, when I had just finished typing this story in my bronze colored little Vaio, I took the liberty to smoke some weed and finish those last drops of red wine that were left in the bottle from last night. Again, I read through the story, applied a few corrections and by the end my tears started rolling again. Oh Honza, it feels so good to cry again. As if I knew that this emotional expression would free the painful energetic blockages that are part of my healing process.

And then I stimulated myself to an intensely fulfilling orgasm. It was a combination of being high on pot and the image of your sexy face, your beautiful hands and muscular arms, and the horny sounds coming from your lips that had caused this unusually long and intense climax. In silence I enjoyed this sensual sensation long after it was gone. I quietly appreciated the first rays of the rising sun and when all the birds were finally singing and the sun had covered all the leaves in a golden hue, I finally got up.

I prepared a mug of strong espresso coffee, put this story and some pictures I took last night on my stick and without bothering to take a shower I left for my office, dressed in a skimpy black dress, flip flops and a big black hat to cover my puffy and teary eyes, just in time to send you this story.

My office is located right down the street, but still, I can’t imagine any place else where I could present myself like this on a public street. Even if I had cruised down the street in a scanty nightgown or a bikini, nobody would have taken notice. I love that about Playa.

Today I felt good and sufficiently energetic to dress myself in my usual office attire; a fashionable fluttering dress, an elegant hat, high heels and a matching purse. I had managed to arrange a meeting with our lawyer to go over all the items that I had already informed Dick about many months ago, so my dress up show was well timed. After all, we’re all playing roles in our lives, so I have an extensive wardrobe to match whatever costume is needed for the part I’m asked to play. No jungle pants or long flowing hippy skirts this time, but a Caribbean style business outfit that emanates intelligence and professionalism.

Our lawyer is the vice-president of the largest legal office in Mexico and a personal friend of mine, who always throws a glance at my curvaceous behind the moment he enters the room, knowing very well that my underwear usually is omitted. I didn’t think Dick realized how fortunate we were to have an appointment on such short notice.

Well Dick, I’m glad that everything has become completely clear to you after this informative talk from our lawyer, I said politely, but inside I was boiling with frustration, because two months ago and again two days ago I had given him the exact same information about the transfer taxes regarding the sale of his penthouse. Also that fax that I had finally managed to send from the Czech Republic, with the instructions to sign that vital document and Fedex it to Mexico, was never send.

But why Dick? I asked with the same polite annoyance.

It was unreadable! he bluntly answered.

Oh really? How interesting, I continued. Then why didn’t you call me so I could resend it?

You were unreachable!

Oh, really? We’re having technology of the 21st century at our disposal and you can’t make a call from Holland to the Czech Republic?

As I said, you were unreachable, Dick insisted.

Fair enough. Telecommunications between two European countries can give some problems at times. But three days later you were in Prague for business and you still couldn’t call me from your Czech phone to my Czech phone?

No, you were absolutely unreachable, Dick claimed. And I wanted to talk to you about that document anyway, because that transfer tax story of yours, that didn’t make sense at all.

My dearest Dick, I continued with a growing frustration, first of all, that transfer tax story of mine is exactly the same story as the one that our lawyer has just shared with you. Second, you know very well that that document had nothing to do with any taxes, but had to be signed regarding the transfer of your bank trust.

That might be the case, but I still wanted to talk about it with you first, before signing anything.

Well, for a while our conversation continued back and forth, but what it came down to is that Dick’s version caused us two weeks of crucial delay and now we can’t make the closing date on time. Dick came to Playa especially for the sale of his penthouse and to sign the necessary papers.

No Dick, of course this is not your fault, I reassured him. This is all caused by external factors that we have no influence upon. We’ll just have to work with the situation that we find ourselves in.

On top of this promising story I had an enormous fight with the aforementioned lawyer. His younger brothers are renting an apartment of mine and ‘by accident’ they had taken a portable stereo from the neighbors. Inventory list and pictures were shown, but I still received a complete denial. If you, as a foreigner, accuse a powerful Mexican family of anything illegal, you have a problem. And I’m afraid that this family is not going to take this lightly when I heard our lawyer threatening me with legal steps. Let’s hope it’s just a storm in a glass of water.

You know how I feel now? I feel exactly like after that threat from that Asian mafia colleague I told you about, that period when I was living my ICT career, months before I moved to Mexico. I had told him that I would be able to provide him with a contact to move a large amount of ecstasy. My contact wasn’t able to deliver and then my colleague told me that in his world this meant that I owed him. I could pay him back in prostitution services.

I’ll pick you up tonight at eight. I’m bringing one my girls and we’re going to see a lawyer for a few hours, he simply stated and returned to his desk.

You know I had never worked as a prostitute back then and I had no intention of doing so, at least not in this way. I knew this would be the beginning of the end; a debt that was impossible to pay back. On top of that, I had done nothing wrong. I had told him one day of the possibility of a contact and when he asked for more information a few days later I said that the guy had moved his stuff through another contact. That was it. It was just one of his tricks to lure girls into prostitution.

I think the reason why we connected during our training is because we recognized certain darkness in each other. He had confided to me many times during our tuition how he used his strategies to prey on troubled young girls, often coming from abusive families, and persuaded them with his charm into prostitution.

The most disturbing story was about one of his girls who was violently raped by a few men who had pulled her into their van while she was waiting for her ride after she had visited a client. She was in the hospital for weeks. Not only did the late driver got punished in a very sadistic way, but when they finally tracked down the perpetrator, this ordinary family man was picked up weekly to withstand some grueling torture. He agreed to be transported to some dark cellar on a weekly basis for fear of his wife and family finding out what he had done. My colleague did admit that women were much tougher than men and could withstand much more pain. He even admitted to me that he saw me as the kind of woman who, if she would ever find herself in such a situation, would fight herself to death before she would submit herself.

Nevertheless, he still rang my bell that evening at eight o’clock sharp. I had invited Mary to my apartment, just in case things would get a little ugly.

Don’t give in, was her advice. Whatever you say, you don’t give in.

He used all his convincing charms and mannerisms, but to no avail. I simply refused.

You can say all you want, but I’m not coming with you, I said calmly.

Things don’t work that way in our world. You’ve made a mistake, he answered with a subdued voice that carried a strong sense of authority.

You can threaten all you want, but it’s not working, I said again.

You’ve made a big mistake, he said with an intimidating tone in his voice. And you will have to pay…

I’m not coming with you, I answered quietly. Not tonight, not ever.

Eventually he left, but I felt very unhappy, to say the least, about coming so close to a disastrous situation. A few days later I attended one of the ‘Vision Circle’ ceremonies and I received that famous vision of Playa del Carmen. It was time to move my little ass from Holland, a country I simply didn’t belong to anymore.

So here I am, being threatened by a Mexican lawyer and his family. Is this a sign to move my little ass again? Time will tell.

Right now I would do anything to shove my tongue in your pink star and then swirl my lips around the tip of your cock. I would take that beautiful, delicious thing of yours in my mouth and suck it until all that white nectar would ecstatically squirt out of you and I would lick it up, right to the very last drop. And with the smell and taste of our sex in my mouth I would passionately kiss you!

Paula

CHAPTER 4

THE RIGHT FLOW

Playa del Carmen, September 2007

Dearest Honziku,

In positive spirits I opened my digital mailbox this morning, expecting to read the email you had send last night, but miraculously it had not arrived. Of course my disappointment was big when my mailbox was just as empty as it was last night. I will have to practice a little more patience.

By the way, yesterday I’ve sorted and removed all the text messages from my Mexican cellphone. Those messages were short and with only the most necessary words. But how I’ve become a text junkie since I’ve known you, my God. I’ve saved our text messages we’ve send each other in Holland, all of them from the very beginning. First there were the flirty ones and then they turned into more loving ones. In a way they are like short love letters. It’s a unique way of communicating, because you write in a certain style that you only use with text messages. Now I’m starting to understand why people use Blackberries. It’s still so frustrating not to be able to text you with my Mexican cellphone, but that Internet service is a sorry alternative.

I’m growing bankrupt with all those international calls half way the globe darling. But this afternoon I’ll try again to call through that Internet service. If that doesn’t work I’ll try to install Skype again. Maybe I could try to call you at home, because tonight you’re not working. And I would love to hear the voice of Marnix and Floris again.

Last night, after Dick had left, I really wanted to write something and pass by the office to send you an email,