Free A Bestiary of Unnatural Women by Ashley Zacharias

the museum and spent the
next two weeks living and working with a light heart.
    That changed when he came home one afternoon
in mid-July and found her in the spare bedroom, the one that she
used as an office, typing madly on her computer. “Whatcha working
on?”
    “Sociological aspects of modern interrogation
techniques. It’s a broad survey. I’ve decided to write a comp on
it.”
    “Oh. Good.” Being in her first year of her
doctoral program, Cindy was required to write two comprehensive
examinations to demonstrate her understanding of general topics in
sociology. She had written the first one before their Amsterdam
trip and he was pleased to see that she was making progress on the
second one. She would be a lot easier to live with once the
pressure of her comps were gone. Then he thought about what she had
just said, “Wait a minute! What do you mean by ‘modern
interrogation techniques’? You mean torture?”
    “Sure. Torture is only part of the topic, but
it is the biggest single part.” She kept typing.
    “Since when does the University of Chicago
administer comprehensive exams about torture?”
    “Since I petitioned the Director of Graduate
Studies. He agreed that it has become an important issue since the
administration launched their so-called War on Terror so he would
allow it.”
    “That’s sick.”
    She stopped typing and turned around to look
at him. “It’s an important issue. People are being tortured by our
government as we speak and that is affecting our whole society in
ways that the Bush administration never anticipated. Not that we
should be surprised by that. That administration never anticipated
the consequences of any of the foolish things that they did.”
    He sighed. “Okay. You’re right. It’s
important. Good luck on your comp.”
    “Thanks,” she replied, ignoring the fact that
she didn’t need his permission for anything, and went back to
typing furiously.
    Trevor consoled himself with the thought that
as long as her interest in torture was only academic, it would do
no harm.
    Cindy sequestered herself like a medieval
monk until she had completed her comprehensive exam. A week after
it was over, he was unsurprised when she mentioned that she had
passed with distinction; she had done the same on her first comp.
Her ability to focus on a topic was astounding. He had never met a
woman who could be so single-minded. To his distress, her
single-mindedness in the six weeks before the exam had excluded any
interest in sex. To his delight, in the week after the exam, she
was interested in almost nothing but making love.
    On a Thursday night in early September, after
making love for the sixth time in five days, she turned to him and
said, “Trevor?”
    “Yes?”
    “You’re good with your hands.”
    “Thank you,” he replied, stroking her soft,
full breast. “I’m glad you like it.”
    “That’s not what I mean,” she said, putting
her hand over his. “I mean, I do like that. But what I really meant
is that you know how to build things.”
    “Yeah?” he drawled, wondering what project
she had come up with now.
    “I want you to build a Spanish horse for
me.”
    “What? A horse?” He was confused.
    “You remember. Like the one in the Torture
Museum in Amsterdam. It won’t be hard. It’s just a couple of pieces
of wood mounted on four legs. I’ve got lots of pictures if you need
to look at them. I bet you could build one in a couple of hours. It
doesn’t have to be fancy. You just have to make sure that it’s
strong enough to hold my weight. Even if I’m wriggling around on
it.”
    “What are you going to do with it?”
    “What do you think?” she asked.
    He didn’t want to think about what she must
be thinking.
     
    “What do you think?” he asked.
    She looked at the device standing in the
center of the room. It was a large wooden wedge, about two feet
long with sides about a foot high. The sides met at a
forty-five-degree angle, about the same as in the