2 comments/ 8272 views/ 3 favorites Shuffling Freddie By: Cromagnonman Let me say before 'Anonymous' attacks my story as being something that is unrealistic and could never have happened, I have personal knowledge of this story. The character of 'Shuffling Freddie' is based on a real person, as are the other main protagonists, and the reason for his bizarre behaviour is as depicted in this story. I have merely used my imagination to get inside the heads of those concerned. As in this story the incident was set in a small rural village (where my mother's family have lived for over a hundred years) and the mores and attitudes of that time and place were as depicted. * It was one of those days and one of those scenes that exist only in picture postcards and I know this because that is my job, I drive around the country looking at the scenery and taking thousands of photos, some of which might eventually end up in calendars or on postcards. The road wound its way through a wooded valley and beside a stream from which glistened sunlight diamonds. The tall trees bordered the road and stream, enclosing, but not imprisoning, it in a green curtain from which emerged the sounds of life, the birdsong in harmony with the gurgling stream creating a symphony, on which man could never hope to improve. I pulled off the road and grabbed my camera. I stood and took it all in before walking to the edge of the stream and sitting down, I knew that if I sat patiently the birds would emerge from the trees to investigate my intrusion. I could sit sometimes for hours before the timid creatures showed themselves for my lens, but the wait was often worth it. My focus was on a small blue wren, its tail twitching as it flirted with its mate, a plain soft brown creature that was obviously interested in the attention. My finger was on the shutter release and the soft sound of the digital camera hardly disturbed them as it recorded frame after frame of their frolicking from twig to twig. Into this idyll intruded a strange sound, a shuffling sound, that sent the birds higher into the tress but not hiding, just watching. I turned and saw what had attracted their attention, a man, or at least I assumed it was a man, dressed in a huge black overcoat and hat. His shoes and trousers had probably been black at some point, but now were the colour of the gravel verge that clouded his shuffling feet. He noticed my Land Rover just before he shuffled into the back of it, and with head still bowed he detoured briefly around it before resuming his journey through the gravel. I found this scene quite strange and resolved to find out more of this apparition. As the sound of his muffled step disappeared behind the resumed birdcalls, the birds returned to doing what they had been doing before this obviously familiar occurrence interrupted them. I continued my work, close-ups of the birds and long shots of the scenery, the water rippling over the round stones in the stream bed, the dragon fly helicopters on reed stems, but all the while my mind drifted back to the man on the road. Packing my gear away I resumed my journey satisfied with my pictures but not satisfied. I had to find out more about this man. A small settlement appeared and I took the opportunity to stop for lunch at the small café. It was cool inside and as I entered a young woman came from a back room in response to the bell's tinkling. I looked at the board behind the counter and decided that the hearty beef stew with chips and vegetables sounded just about right. "How are you today? What would you like?" Her voice had the same musical quality as the birdsong, what was it about this place where everything seemed to have the same quality of sound, well almost everything. "I would like the hearty beef stew please." I tried not to sound too condescending. "And I would like some home made apple pie with fresh cream and a cup of tea. I think that will be all, thank you." She had scribbled something on her little pad before excusing herself and leaving through the same door through which she had emerged minutes before. I sat at one of the four tables and took my camera from its case and started scrolling through the photos that I had just taken, deleting those that I didn't want. I had just finished my task when she came in with her hands full. A large bowl of stew and a side plate with the chips were followed by another side plate with thick slices of home made crusty bread and a bowl with small pats of butter. The cutlery she placed beside the plate consisted of a fork and knife and when I attacked the stew I realised that the fork was more than adequate, the gravy was so thick it clung to the chunks of meat. "Can I interest you in a glass of red wine to have with your meal, it's nothing fancy, just a good local wine." "That sounds perfect. This is nice, did you cook it yourself?" "Yes, I can't afford an executive chef like those fancy city restaurants." "Ouch! I asked for that didn't I?" She chuckled softly to herself as she left to fetch the wine. It was good. "I wonder, can I ask you a question?" "Of course." "When I was taking photos a couple of kilometres down the road I was passed by this strange man in black. What's the story?" "What you saw was 'Shuffling Freddie'. He's something of a legend around here." "What's his story, I assume that there is one?" "Freddie's story is a sad one. If you're not in a hurry I can tell you all about it." "I'd like to hear it, it's could be fascinating." She sat down at my table but it was several minutes before she began her story. "Fred Hodge is from a local family and he's about fifty years old and every day for the last thirty years, rain or shine, and wearing the same heavy overcoat, he has shuffled along the road between his home just down the road to Smithton and back." "Why?" "I'm coming to that. Fred was a handsome lad and very popular, especially with the ladies and one in particular, Theresa Sylvester, the oldest daughter of twelve kids and a beauty by all accounts. Fred and Theresa were engaged to be married and everything looked rosy for them. But that was when things went horribly wrong for Fred. You have to remember that back then it was customary for young couples to 'save themselves' for their marriage bed and Fred was very strong on this. Theresa it seems was not as strong. Father Patrick was a strapping young priest fresh out of the seminary and this was his first parish. He was a popular man, energetic, well spoken with a ready smile and a quick wit. The locals adored him, and it seems he returned the adoration, at least with the young women, and this included Theresa. Nothing of course was spoken of this at the time, but it was common knowledge that he strayed from time to time, but no-one knew or was talking about who he did it with. It was thought that he sought solace outside the church. Fred was blissfully unaware of any of this, all he could focus on was his forthcoming nuptials and his future with the most beautiful girl in the valley. "Come in Theresa, how can I help you?" "Father Patrick, I'm worried about getting married, what it means to be married." "You're not having cold feet are you?" "No Father, I love Fred dearly and want to be his wife more than anything, it's just that I don't really know what to do as a wife, what's expected of me." "You haven't discussed this with your mother?" "I have but all that she'll tell me is that I have to obey him in all things and not to worry about him because he's a good man. That tells me nothing, it doesn't tell me what is expected of me in the marriage bed, and she won't say anything other than to do as he wishes." "Why have you come to me, surely there are other people that you can get advice from, your friends perhaps." "I've asked some of my friends and they have told me that, because what happens in the marriage bed is a laying with one another in the Biblical sense, and because the church tells us what we can and can't do in that area, that I should seek advice from the church and because, there are no nuns here, you are the person that I should ask." "You are still a virgin I gather." "Yes, you don't have to ask that." "Well, when you are alone and in bed he'll want to make love to you, that is he'll want to place his penis into your vagina. As a virgin this will hurt the first time, that's perfectly normal, but once it is done you'll feel no pain." "But how will he get his penis into my vagina?" "He'll have an erection, that is his penis will get hard. Does this mean you have never seen him with an erection, or felt it getting hard when you kiss?" "No!" "Has he ever placed his hands on your breasts or between your legs?" "No! We are not like that, we wouldn't do that." "I see." He moved over and sat closer to her. "Let me tell you Theresa, if you are both as inexperienced as you say you are, it will have to be you that leads the way on the night. And to do that you'll need to know a lot about both your body and his, about how they feel and what to do about this experience. For instance, what do you feel when I place my hand on your breast like this?" He cupped her breast in his hand. At first she tried to draw back from his touch but he persisted and she allowed his hand to remain where it was. "It feels, nice." "And when I do this?" He felt around until he located her nipple under her dress and took it between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed it. "That makes me feel tingly, it's nice." Theresa was aware of a new feeling in her vagina. Father Patrick caressed her breast for some minutes and she could feel a dampness spreading into her panties. This couldn't be right, could it? Father Patrick took her hand in his and placed it on his cassock between his legs. "Do you feel that? That's an erect penis. Fred will have something like that and if you squeeze it you'll feel that it is quite rigid and capable of penetrating inside you." "It feels big, will Fred's be the same as this?" "All of them feel big when they are hard, some of them will be bigger than others and I don't know if mine is bigger or smaller than Fred's will be. Would you like to see it for yourself?" "I suppose I need to know what one looks like " He lifted his cassock and standing out from his naked body was the reason that he was so popular among some of the young women of the district. She stared wide eyed at it. "If Fred's is as big as that I'll never fit it inside me." "Don't worry my dear, your vagina can stretch quite a bit, after all, when you have a baby it has to open up enough for the child to be born." "I still don't know." She wasn't convinced. "There is something you can do that will make it easier when the time comes. If you put a finger inside your vagina and move it in and out you will feel it getting moist. That is a natural lubrication to help you. When that happens, you should then place another finger inside and you'll see that it stretches to allow that. When you've got two in you'll be able to fit more in, with a bit of practice you could almost be able to fit your whole hand in although I don't advise that." "It doesn't feel right to me." "If it makes you feel better, I can use my finger to show you how it's done." "All right. It won't hurt will it?" "No, I'm not going to break your hymen so it won't hurt." He reached under her skirt and her legs opened to his hand. He attempted to get past the elastic of her underwear and found that he couldn't penetrate far enough for his finger to enter her. "You are going to have to take your underwear off so that I can touch you." Theresa obediently stood and removed the offending garment before sitting down and allowing him entry. His finger penetrated almost to the second knuckle before it encountered the obstructing hymen. Moving it around he gently stretched her until he was able to insert a second finger. "How does that feel?" "It feels . . . . very . . . . nice . . . . so . . . . very . . . . nice." Her hips were moving in time with his movement. "Oh my goodness, please don't stop . . . . don't . . . . st . . oh my God!" She reached her climax in a writhing, shuddering spasm. "Father, forgive me for my blasphemy, I don't know what happened to me." "My child, you have just experienced your first orgasm. Now despite what your mother may tell you, there is nothing wrong with a woman having one each time she has sexual intercourse." "Will I have one each time I make love to Fred?" "You will if you go about it the right way. Some men feel that all they have to do is to put their erect penis into a woman's vagina until they have an orgasm and that is all there is to it, but there is no reason why the woman should not seek the same pleasure as the man, and if you learn how to manipulate it there is no reason why you shouldn't." "How do I do that?" "Let me explain about the erogenous zones in the body, your body. When I caressed your breast and your nipple you felt a sensation between your legs, in your vagina. That is because you have erogenous zones in your breasts, they make you feel aroused. You need to encourage Fred to caress you there as part of your foreplay. At the same time you can stroke his penis to arouse him." "You mean touch each other? I was told that I wasn't to do that." "Who told you that?" "My mother." "And your mother has probably never experienced the feelings that you just have." He took her hand and placed it on his erection. "Now stroke it, don't grip it too hard or you'll hurt him." He closed his eyes as she stroked him for several minutes before he put his hand on hers and stopped her. "Now, do you see how big and hard it is? It is now ready to be put inside you, I mean a woman." He placed his hand over her vagina and pushed his finger inside her again. When she began to squirm under his touch he pushed back the hood covering her clitoris and rubbed it. "Oh!" She said nothing for several minutes until after she had her orgasm. "What did you do there?" "Did you like it?" She nodded her head. "What I touched was your clitoris, the most sensitive part of your body. During foreplay you should encourage him to touch you there, it will increase your chances of having an orgasm. There is another part of foreplay that you should try, it's oral sex." "What do you mean? It sounds dirty." "Many men like to have the woman suck on their penis, some even enjoy ejaculating into the woman's mouth and the woman, even though she doesn't get the same pleasure from it, will do it to please her man. You should try it. At the same time the man can, by manoeuvring the right way, lick your vagina, this gives you great pleasure and is called the sixty-nine position. I'm told that it is highly thought of by the French and they are great lovers." "I still don't know about this." "And you'll never know unless you try it. If you like I'll go first and lick your vagina, then, if you feel like it you can suck on my penis." He knelt between her legs and began to lick her, concentrating on her clitoris until she begged him to stop. "I want to do it to you, how can we do it to each other at the same time?" "If you lay on the floor, on the rug, I can lay on top of you, that way you can suck me while I lick you." She lay back on the floor and he lay on top of her making sure that his weight wasn't on her. They began to pleasure each other until he stopped what he was doing to tell her that he was about to have his orgasm. Theresa didn't stop until after he had filled her mouth. She spat it out with a grimace. "I didn't really like the taste of it, but I suppose if Fred wants to do it I can get used to it." Father Patrick had resumed his licking and she was rapidly approaching her next orgasm. When it had subsided she began to feel guilty at what they had just done. "We shouldn't be doing this, after all I'm getting married in three months." "But if you know what you are doing in the marriage bed you'll be a better wife for him." "What if I don't want to have a baby straight away?" "You know that the church doesn't allow anything other than the rhythm method." "I've heard of it but no-one has told me how it works." "It's based your menstrual cycle. Do you know how many days there are between the beginning of one cycle and the next." "I'm not sure, I've never counted them, they just happen." "For this to work you have to know how many days there are between them, it's very important because for twelve days after your menstrual cycle ends you run a very high risk of getting pregnant if you have sex, then for the next however long until your cycle begins again there is less risk, and during the cycle it is safe although many women don't want to do it then because of the bleeding." "That sounds complicated." "Do you keep a diary?" "Yes." "Right, what I want you to do is to keep a record of your menstrual cycle, when you start bleeding and when it stops, then the number of days between the first day and when it starts next, can you do that?" "Yes." "Good, that will be all for now. If you have any other questions come and see me." She put her underwear back on. "Good night Father." He kissed her and ushered her to the door. "Go in peace my child." Three nights later she knocked on his door. "Father, I have given it a lot of thought, I want to learn more so that I can be the perfect wife for Fred." "I was expecting you, you see, I have found that once young women have been opened up to the true beauty of the role that God has for them in marriage they desire to know and experience more." "Yes, oh yes Father, I do, I want to know all that there is to know, will you teach me." "Come with me." He led her to the overstuffed lounge. "Now, you remember that the last time you were here I taught you about the importance of foreplay in the love making between husband and wife, between man and woman?" "Yes." "Foreplay can begin with something as simple as an intimate touch, for instance, if I were to touch you lightly on the breast like this." His hand brushed her breast, Theresa barely felt the touch but the electricity that passed between them she definitely felt. "You will feel a sensation that could lead to you wanting to make love, with your husband." "Oh yes, I felt that." "You should encourage that as part of foreplay. You can do that by brushing the front of his trousers, would you like to try it?" She brushed his cassock but was wide of the target. "No, you have to brush where his penis is." She tried again and this time her touch was met by his erection, she instinctively grasped it in her hand. Father Patrick held her hand to prevent her from removing it. "That's it, if he reacts as I have you will know that he wants to make love to you." "I do, I mean, I will." "The next step is the undressing, if you really want to please each other you will undress each other." He began to loosen her clothing, he unlaced the front of her blouse and pulled it from her skirt, his hands moving under it and over her flesh and caressing her breasts, her nipples, and as he caressed he slowly raised the garment and lifted it over her head. His mouth found her nipple and he began to suckle on it. "Should we be doing . . . Oh," He gently nipped her nipple. "Don't stop, I want to know it all. I want to feel it all." He continued to kiss her and as he did he loosened the waist of her skirt and underwear and pushed them down over her hips and continued to kiss down her body until he reached her pubic mound. His hand moved under the underwear and he began to massage her clitoris. "Now you must undress me." She knelt at his feet and lifted the hem of his cassock and slowly lifted it, her hands sliding up his legs. She was surprised to find, when she reached where she had expected there to be underwear that he wore none and as the hem cleared his penis it was erect and waiting. She held the cassock in position and began to suck him. Shuffling Freddie He lifted her to her feet and she stepped out of the last of her clothing. "You have a fine and beautiful body." Theresa raised the cassock over his head and he stood before her as naked as she. She ran her hands through the fine hairs on his chest and down over his stomach to his penis. Father Patrick led her to the lounge and she sat down. Moving between her legs he was once more licking her clitoris and his finger was inside her. "Please, I must know more." She whimpered. The moment had arrived and he placed his penis into the entrance to her vagina and moved it slowly in and out, never going far enough to touch her hymen. She timed it to perfection, as he pushed into her she grabbed his hips and pushed down on his erect penis as hard as she could. He felt the hymen break. "Ow!" A quick reaction to the momentary pain and she held him to her, deep within her, for some time before she pulled back a short distance then pushed down once more. "No. We must stop, this is all wrong." Father Patrick was aware of the repercussions of continuing. "We can't stop now, I don't want you to stop now, I want to know it all. I want you to make love to me all the way." Father Patrick went all the way, and it wasn't until after he had withdrawn his spent penis from her that he asked the fatal question; "Tell me, when did your last period end?" "About a week ago, why?" "Jesus, Joseph and Mary. Remember what I said about keeping track of your menstrual cycle, well you are in your fertile period and it is very likely that you will fall pregnant." "What are we going to do if I am?" "You will say nothing about this to anyone and, after your honeymoon you'll tell everyone that you must have got pregnant on your honeymoon and when it arrives earlier than it should, that the baby is premature." "But that would be lying wouldn't it?" "There are times when you just have to lie. You want to marry Fred don't you?" "Yes, you know I do." "And Fred, he has never been with another woman has he?" "No." "So if he found out that you and I had, you know, he'd be very upset wouldn't he?" "Yes." "Then he mustn't know, must he?" "No." It was a good plan while it lasted, but Theresa's mother had, since she had reached puberty, kept a watchful eye for signs of menstruation and when this didn't happen after Theresa and Father Patrick's love making she began to ask questions. "Theresa, have you and Fred been going off on your own before the wedding?" "No." "The how do you explain why you've not got your monthlies?" "I don't know." "Tell me you haven't been with another man." "I . . ." "You stupid girl! How could you do that so close to your wedding day? Tell me who was it?" Theresa sat with her head bowed in shame, but said nothing. "Oh no, it can't be, tell me you haven't been doing it with Father Patrick? You know what people say about him and women?" Theresa still said nothing. "You told me that you were going to him for spiritual help with your marriage and you let him have his wicked way with you. Did you never stop to think about what could happen?" "It just happened, he was telling me about how to please Fred after we were married and he said he could explain it better if he showed me and," she sobbed, "it just happened." "These things don't just happen, one or both of you must have wanted it to happen. Him wanting it I can understand but you, how could you be so stupid as to want it from him. You have brought shame on our family." The truth eventually came out and she agreed to go along with their story. A hastily called conference between Theresa's parents and Father Patrick was called and the repercussions of their betrayal of Fred were discussed. A plan was hatched for Fred to be seduced on his Bucks night so that he would feel guilty and be coerced into going along with their scheme. The Saturday before the wedding some of Fred's mates took him to Smithton for his 'Bucks night'. One of the lads had a friend who arranged for them to use the back room of the hotel. There was a lot of beer drunk and a lot of rowdiness until at around ten o'clock a young and willing local girl was introduced into the group. She sat on Fred's lap and tried to kiss him but he wasn't about to let her. "You are a very nice girl I'm sure, and I don't know how these guys talked you into doing this, but I'm getting married next week and I'm not going to betray my fiancé by misbehaving. I'm sorry to disappoint you." "Come on Fred," Charlie, his best man, encouraged him, "no-one will tell Theresa, your secret's safe with us." This brought laughter from the others. "No! I won't do it!" And with that he got up, left the room, his mates and the girl, who had already begun the task, for which she had been paid, with Charlie, and walked the ten miles (sixteen kilometres) to his home. The next day Fred and Theresa were standing, hand in hand chatting, with their families and friends outside the church after Mass. It was a bright and sunny day, picture postcard perfect in almost every way. Fred's mates chided him about his leaving the party early and comment was passed about the performance of the young lady. Fred shut his ears to their talk. As the parishioners were leaving Father Patrick spoke to Fred. "Would you come into the vestry, I have something to discuss with you." Intrigued Fred followed him and Theresa into the vestry. "I understand Fred that there was a young lady at your Bucks night last night, is that true?" "Yes and she seemed a nice enough young lady. I don't know what she was doing there." "And you and she got friendly?" "She was friendly but I wasn't interested in her, all I could think of was what would Theresa say if I did something that I shouldn't have." The look on Father Patrick's face said it all; the bait was good but the prey failed to take it. They would have to rely on Fred's forgiveness to get out of this. "Fred. Fred, I have something to tell you and a favour to ask of you." "What is it Father?" "This is hard. . . . Fred, Theresa is with child." "What!" He looked at his fiancé who sat, head bowed, beside him. "Theresa, tell me this isn't true!" "I'm so sorry Darling, we didn't mean for this to happen." "What do you mean 'we'?" He stared from one to the other and became apparent to him that Father Patrick was the man with whom she was with child. "You don't mean, oh no, how, no it's not possible that you and, tell me it's not true, please tell me it's not true." "It is true Fred." Father Patrick placed his hand on Fred's shoulder. Fred shrugged it off. "And this leads me to the favour we have to ask you. We want you to go ahead with the wedding and look on this child as your own, will you do that?" "No! I won't be a part of your betrayal. Theresa, you knew that I have been saving myself for you, yet you betrayed me, and you Father Patrick, you've not only betrayed me, but you've betrayed your own vows of celibacy, how could you?" "I'm sorry, what can I say, it just happened." "Please Fred, you know I love you, won't you do this for me, for us?" "How can you even think that I'd do this? I loved you and kept myself pure for you, even when I was tempted last night at my Bucks party, I resisted the temptation to have sex with another woman. I'm sorry but I just can't do this. I feel betrayed, let down by the woman I loved and the priest that I trusted." Fred got up and left the vestry. That evening his parents and Theresa's parents sat with him and pleaded with him to reconsider. "It wasn't Theresa's fault that this happened. Three months ago she went to Father Patrick for advice about her life married to you, she wanted so much for your lives to be perfect in every way, can't you see that?" "I bet he was a good teacher, he taught her that much that now she's pregnant with his child, and you want me to still marry her and tell everyone that the child is mine. I will not lie for you. I will not lie for him and I won't even lie for her. As far as I'm concerned they have made a mistake and they'll just have to live with that for the rest of their lives. Now would you all leave me alone. I don't want to listen to you any more and I don't want to see you any more." "But we are taught by the church and it's in the Lords Prayer that we pray for God to forgive our sins as we forgive others, so don't you think that you should forgive them?" "I cannot forgive the hypocrisy of a priest who tells us that we shouldn't sin and he does this? What kind of church would stand for that behaviour?" "I can understand you being upset, so don't you think about it until you calm down, then decide what you are going to do?" "You aren't listening to me! I've made up my mind and I want you to leave me alone." I looked at this woman as she told this story and wondered if there was anything that could be done for this poor man. "So what happened then?" "Fred locked himself in his room and emerged only to go to the toilet for a full week. The following Sunday when the parishioners arrived for early Mass there was no sign of Father Patrick, nor was there any sign of Theresa. They had run off together. This caused a certain amount of conjecture in the community and rumours concerning Father Patrick's marriage preparation teaching spread like wildfire and many a husband found himself wondering about his wife." "On the following morning Fred got out of bed early and, putting on his heavy black overcoat over his black suit, doing up his tie and putting on his hat, he set off down the road to Smithton and back, speaking to no-one, acknowledging no-one. This was to be his routine for the next thirty years up to the present time. The local people said he was crazy, that he had lost his mind because of his heartbreak, and in this they were probably right, but they could never be sure because he refused all attempts by them to help him in any way." "What happened to Theresa and Father Patrick?" "I would like to say that they lived happily ever after, unfortunately that wasn't the case. They lived together until after she had her daughter Siobhan, but he was no longer a priest, he had been forced to resign, so they had little money to live on, and his drinking became progressively worse until she left him and returned home long enough to convince her mother that the best thing would be for her to look after the baby. She left the child with her parents and moved to Sydney. The last anyone heard of her was that she was living with a man who was a drunk and abused her, and that she was working as a prostitute to try to get enough money together to leave him, but he took her money for drink." "And the baby, what happened to her, how did she turn out?" "I think I turned out pretty well." Post script: I have been visiting Siobhan for the past six months and things are developing (photographer's pun, sorry) quite nicely. We had just woken up when the phone rang. She got up to answer it and when she returned her expression was sad. "What is it?" "That was Mr Bridges down the road. When Fred didn't shuffle past as usual he thought that something was wrong and went to check up on him. Fred died in his sleep and he had clutched to his chest an old photograph in a badly worn frame. It was of Theresa, my mother."