Storiesonline.net ------- Justice Delayed by Openbook Copyright© 2006 by Openbook ------- Description: This is a story set in the sixties. It is a story about a man seeking forgiveness and penance. It isn't really a story of rape, just one of human consequences, and of a person's spirit refusing to give up. Any sex is going to be strictly a byproduct of the story. Codes: MF slow tears rape het ------- ------- Chapter 1 When I was nineteen years old, I did a senseless and unforgivable thing. I took a girl out to Kraemer's Junction, after a movie date, and, heedless to her cries, and unmindful of her desperate pleas for me to stop, I physically assaulted and raped her. It was only our fourth date, she was sixteen years old, and she was a virgin. It hadn't been anything that I'd consciously premeditated doing, and I believe I was at least as surprised by my actions as she was. The very next day, without talking to anyone about my plans, I went three towns over, to the nearest recruiter's office, and enlisted in the Army for three years. As soon as basic training and infantry school were finished, they shipped me off to Viet Nam. I reenlisted at the end of two years, taking an early release so that I could sign up for another four year hitch. I then spent two years stationed over in Germany, before being rotated back to the states. As soon as I returned stateside, I volunteered for another hitch in Viet Nam, and the Army granted my somewhat unusual request. During those six years, I saw a lot, in and out of combat, and, I learned a lot about what it meant to be a man. I began to think a lot about owning up to this past mistake. I knew that the time had come for me to return home and face the consequences. I understood that I wouldn't ever be able to put my guilt and shame behind me, not as long as I was continuing to try to run away from the consequences that were due me. I was medically retired from the Army, and returned home to face up to my earlier shame. I hadn't been home since the morning I had first left to join up, six long years before. I had been gone almost two years before I had even called home to try to speak with my mother. My dad had died in a truck crash when I was only nine years old. That first time I called, I was just back from my tour in Viet Nam. It had been a harrowing thirteen months over there. I needed to contact someone I knew to let them know that I'd survived the experience. My mother hung up on me as soon as she recognized who it was that was calling her. I was in the hospital at that time, Letterman Army Hospital, in The Presidio of San Francisco when I called her. A month later, after I'd been released as being once again fit for duty, I took a short discharge, and re-upped again. Having my own mom hang up on me had greatly affected me. Since I was her only child, and her sole living relative, I knew how mad and disappointed she had to have been at me to do such a thing. We had been close before that night of the rape, especially so, in the years following my father's death. Her refusal to speak with me was almost more than I could bear. I called home again, right before I began my second tour in Viet Nam. I was afraid on this tour I'd probably be killed. I wanted my mother's forgiveness and her blessing. This time, my mother spoke to me, but what she told me simply reinforced my own opinion about the terrible act I had committed. She told me that she had stayed in town, and she had lived with my shame every day since I left. She told me that she wished with all her heart that I had never been born. After that call, I believe I started welcoming the idea of dying. Four months before my second enlistment expired, I received word, through the American Red Cross, that my mother had suffered a massive stroke, and had died in the hospital. I called Mr. Chalmers, the family attorney, and explained to him the reason that I would be unable to come back home for four more months. I asked him to please handle my mother's funeral for me. He agreed, and I signed all the paperwork he later sent, including an unlimited power of attorney for him to act, on my behalf, and in my stead. Mr. Chalmers had been my father's best friend. He had looked after our family interests ever since I could remember. When my mom passed away, I was back at Letterman Hospital in the Presidio. This time, I had lost my right leg, and needed to stay there to be rehabbed, and fitted with a prosthesis. I had managed to plow through a trip wire out in the bush. Luckily, I still had plenty of stump on my thigh, so a prosthesis could easily be fitted. At the hospital I met a lot of men who weren't as lucky. When they retired me, they gave me a fifty per cent disability pension. It was only one hundred and twenty eight dollars a month, but it was for life, and income tax free. I was also qualified to go to college as part of the V.A.'s vocational rehabilitation program. They covered my tuition, books, lab fees, and a living allowance of one hundred seventy five dollars a month. When my bus pulled up in front of the library in Ridgeline, it was a little after nine at night. No one besides Mr. Chalmers even knew I was coming back, so I needed to take the cab out to my house. Ernie, the only cabbie in Ridgeline, took me right to my front doorstep without me having to tell him where to go. Ernie knew everybody in town. I knew that most people would know I was back by noon the next day, at the latest. It was that kind of a town. The house didn't smell musty or unused, so I assumed that Mr. Chalmers had someone come by and air it out for me. I left my duffel bag and suitcase by the door, where Ernie had placed them, and went into my old room, got undressed, and went to bed. The next morning, I cleaned up, got dressed in my best civvies, then walked the two blocks over to Brenda Sinclair's house. I really didn't have a plan, other than to apologize to her, and tell her that I was ready to face the consequences for my earlier actions. I figured that I'd be willing to pretty much do whatever she and her family decided was best. I knew that there was no chance for me to even consider making a new start until after we'd settled up for the rape. I walked up to her porch and rang the doorbell. In my mind, I had envisioned many scenarios that might unfold. The most common of these was for Brenda's father, or her brother, Tommy, to come to the door and either shoot me, or beat me to death. Sometimes, it was Brenda who answered the door in my mind, and that usually turned out worse for me. I had prepared myself for a long time to face up to this. I really wanted to get it settled and over with, even if it meant prison for me, or, possibly, even death. The whole thing was weighing on me, even more so in the time since my mom's death. From the first, I knew that Brenda was affected by this much more than I had been. Because I realized and recognized this, I was willing to have her determine what my punishment should be. I didn't recognize the woman that answered the door. It sure wasn't Brenda or her mom. "May I help you?" "Yes, is this still the Sinclair's residence?" "Is that you, Gainey? It is! We heard you were coming back home. It's me, Linda Fuller. Well, Linda Sinclair now, I guess. Me and Tommy got married three years ago. Are you looking for Brenda? She lives over to Bolling, now. She moved there right after she finished up high school. Tommy's going to kick your ass. He told everybody that he's going to do it as soon as he sees you in town." "Where is he now?" I could hardly believe that was Linda Fuller standing in front of me. When I left before, Linda was one of the best looking girls in town. The woman in front of me was at least sixty pounds overweight. Her complexion was terrible, with acne pits and scarring on her chins and cheeks. I wondered what the hell had happened to her. Even her hair, which had once been long, straight and blonde, was now cut short, a mousy looking brown color, and looked all drab and lifeless. She had been two years ahead of me in school, so she couldn't be more than twenty seven or so "He still works at McCutchean's, but don't go by there, because he needs to keep his job. Wait til he gets off. He usually stops over at Jr's for a beer or two after five thirty. If you're going to go there though, it would be better to wait until Wednesday, because tonight's bowling night, and he's going to need his hands to bowl. You know that Tommy's father died? He wanted a piece of you too. Tommy says he's going to give you some shots for his daddy too." "You tell Tommy that I'm staying back at my house. If he thinks he has business with me, I'll see him there. Where abouts in Bolling does Brenda live?" "I can't be telling you that. Tommy would kill me if he knew I'd told you anything about her. He's meaner now than when you knew him. I'd appreciate it if you didn't get him all stirred up over this. Let him whomp on you a few times and that can be the end of it. If you try to stand up to him there's going to be a lot of trouble again. I wish you hadn't decided to come back after all this time, Gainey. He won't be able to rest now until he does what he's promised to do." "I didn't come back to cause any trouble, Linda. I need to speak with Brenda, to see what she wants me to do. I'll meet with Tommy too, if that's what he needs. If it was my sister, I'd probably feel just like he does." "But, you don't have a sister, Gainey. You don't know what he's feeling." "I think I understand it. I don't need a sister to know how that would make me feel if I did have one, and somebody did that to her. You tell Tommy what I said. He can come by the house." I turned and tried to walk away, but my new leg wasn't cooperating very well, and I almost fell off the porch. I grabbed hold of the porch post and steadied myself for a second before carefully making my way down the three remaining steps. Linda didn't say anything about my near accident. I was kind of hoping that everyone in town didn't already know about my leg. I didn't want their pity. I walked back home and called Ernie's number. When I told him who it was, and that I needed to hire him to take me over to Bolling, he told me that he couldn't take me until after eleven. Ernie had some kind of contract with the township to take people to their medical appointments and to the pharmacy for their prescriptions. Mostly, people had Ernie pick up their medicine, and just run it out to them when he happened to be passing by. Right before eleven o'clock, Ernie pulled up outside and honked his horn at me. I came out and sat up front with him. It was too hard for me to get in and out of the back seat on his cab. The front was a lot easier, and I could lift my leg in easier too.When I got in and had the door closed again, Ernie started in talking to me. "You're going over to see Brenda, aren't you? She might just shoot you when she sees you. No one would blame her if she did." "Why don't you mind your own business and drive, Ernie?" "What's wrong with your leg? Did you get shot over there with them Vietnammers?" I just ignored his question. If I had told him anything, I knew it would be all over town, as soon as his cab got back to town. We didn't have our own newspaper in Ridgeline, so I guess Ernie tried to make up for that lack. "Did you lose that leg? Is that one of them wooden ones you got on? Is that why you can't drive yourself?" "Don't you ever shut up, Ernie? I hate to pay good money for your services, and then have to listen to you yapping at me for the whole time I'm in your cab. If you don't quiet down, I'm going to get that other cab company over in Holton to come get me and drive me back home." Finally, Ernie decided to be quiet. I knew he had been hoping that he'd somehow get the whole skinny on what went on during my meeting with Brenda. I was just as determined that he wouldn't get to be a witness to our talk. That was assuming that Brenda would even agree to talk to me. I wasn't very confident that she would agree. I'd promised myself that I'd try. We rode in silence for the last fifteen minutes. Bolling was twenty three miles from Ridgeline. It was also three times as big as Ridgeline. The big tire distribution warehouse was the main employer in the town back in those days. If Brenda was living in Bolling, the odds were that she worked at the warehouse too. "You going to her apartment or her job?" "Which is closer?" "Her job. Is that where you want me to take you?" "All right." "Going to be a long wait for you then. She works the night shift. Doesn't even get there until six tonight. I'm not sure whether she even works there on Tuesdays." "Why didn't you just say so? Take me to her apartment then." "You told me to shut up. Don't you remember?" He turned onto the main drag and went down a few blocks before turning left onto a residential side street. In another three blocks, he slowed and pulled up in front of some one story apartments, finding a place to park. "You want me to wait here for you, or you want to call me when you're finished? I charge five bucks an hour for waiting time." "How much do I owe you right now?" "Call it fifteen even. If you want me to wait for one hour, I'll do it for no charge if you're going to want me to drive you back. More than an hour, I'll have to charge you for waiting time." "Are you going to stay in your cab and mind your own business?" "Even better than that. How about I leave, and go get myself something to eat? I'll come back when I'm done, and start that hour I promised you." I thought that was a better deal than I could have expected from Ernie, so I paid him his fifteen dollars and watched as he drove off. There were eight apartments in the complex, but none of the mailboxes had any Sinclair's or Brenda's listed on them. I could almost hear Ernie cackling in glee at my ignorance for not asking which apartment was hers. I decided to just start with the first one on the left side and work my way down until I found her. There was no answer at the first two apartments. I guessed that whoever lived there was at work. At the third one, an old lady answered and told me that Brenda lived on the other side in the third apartment from the street. I walked across and knocked on her door. When she opened up, I recognized her right away. I had been afraid that I might not be able to because it had been so long since I'd seen her. Unlike with Linda Fuller, time had been good to Brenda. I'd been picturing her in my mind as she'd been the last time I saw her. She had been tall and thin then, with brown hair and eyes, and not much in the way of womanly attributes. Now, her hair was longer, and her figure was fully developed. She looked like a full grown woman. I knew that she recognized me too, because she slammed the door right in my face. I stepped back from the door and waited. "Go away! How dare you come looking for me like this?" Her voice was muffled from the closed door that stood between us. "I can't leave until I speak with you, Brenda. In a minute, Ernie's going to come back here and then everyone will know our private business." "We don't have any private business, Gainey. You raped me, and then you ran away. There's nothing we need to talk about. You better leave or else I'm calling the police on you." "Call them if that's what you want to do. I think we need to settle this. I came to see how you wanted to handle it. I'm sorry I ran away before. I'm very sorry that I did that to you. I want to pay for what I did, so I can put it behind me and move on with my life." "Don't you think you're a little bit late? It's been six years. I never filed any charges, even though everyone in town already knew what you did to me. I don't know how you have the nerve to try to move back to Ridgeline. Tommy is going to kill you, I bet." "Is that what you want to happen? For Tommy to kill me?" "No, because then he'd have to go to jail, and you're not worth killing, not if it means him having to be the one to pay for it." "Would that satisfy you though? I could kill myself if that's what you want from me." "Yes, that's what I want. Kill yourself. How many other girls lives have you ruined in the last six years?" "I haven't even been with another woman since that night. Goodbye, Brenda. I'm awful sorry for what I did, and I'm sorry for waiting so long to come see you, to take my punishment." I left her doorway, and walked back out to the street to wait for Ernie. I had had a feeling for a long time that this was the price I'd have to pay. It even seemed to me like it was pretty fair. The only question in my mind was whether or not to wait around long enough to let Tommy have his crack at me. I had never liked Tommy, but it still didn't seem right for me to cheat him out of his revenge. Ernie came back after I'd been waiting for about half an hour. We rode back to my house in silence. At four in the afternoon I had an appointment with Mr. Chalmers. We discussed my mother's estate. Besides the house, which she had owned free and clear, there were some pieces of land she had inherited from her father, back when he had died, and about ninety thousand dollars in her savings account. I was her sole heir. Her will had been changed only two years before. I guess she didn't have any one else she wanted to leave everything to. I had Mr. Chalmers draw up a simple will for me, leaving everything to Brenda. There had been a Gainey, my mother's maiden name, and a Crocker, my dad's family name, in Ridgeline, ever since it was first settled in 1853. Both those family lines would be extinguished with my death. I waited out in the foyer for the will to be typed up, then signed it. Mr. Chalmers had two of his office staff sign as witnesses. I got to keep the original and one copy, and Mr. Chalmers kept another in my records file in his office. My leg was sore from walking down to Mr. Chalmers office, so I needed to call Ernie for a ride back home. The only comment he made was that he was glad I was back in town, because he hadn't been so busy in a long while. That night, Tommy Sinclair, and a few of his bowling buddies came over to my house. It was after ten o'clock and I was already in bed with my leg off. It took me awhile to put it back on and to get myself dressed. When I opened the door, Tommy rushed me, and we wound up on my mother's Persian carpet. Tommy's breath smelled strongly of whiskey, but it didn't seem to slow him down any. I remember the first seven or eight punches to my head, but, after that, I lost all track of anything else. I spent the next two days drifting in and out of consciousness. At some point, I realized I was in the hospital. By the third day, I started becoming aware enough that my doctor started discussing my injuries with me. I had a broken nose and cheek bone, my jaw was broken in two places, and I had a badly injured right eye, probably the result of being gouged with a thumb. My ribs were bruised, but not cracked or broken. Tommy Sinclair was sitting in jail, facing some pretty serious charges. The doctor told me that there were two detectives that needed to speak to me to get my side of things, but he also said he didn't want me trying to talk for at least a week. My jaw hadn't been wired because the fractures were hairline rather than clean breaks. Hairline or not, my whole face was all puffed up and swollen. It hurt even though they were giving me some shots for the pain. My nose and the right side of my face hurt me the most. I was in the hospital for eleven days. When they released me, I had a nurse call Ernie, and he came to pick me up and bring me back home. I'd spoken with the detectives earlier in the week and explained to them why Tommy had attacked me. I told them that I wouldn't press charges, but they said I didn't need to press charges. I told them that I'd testify in Tommy's defense then. The younger detective snorted in derision at me. The day after I got back home, an assistant district attorney came to interview me. I told him the same thing I'd told the two detectives. Three days later, Tommy's lawyer stopped by. I offered to testify that I'd have done the same thing to anyone else who had done what I did to Brenda, if I had been her brother. He asked if he could come by later with a statement for me to sign to that effect. When he came back, later that day, I signed the statement that he had prepared for me. Tommy's lawyer was the only one who seemed to think that my testimony would benefit Tommy's case. I learned, later on, that the prosecutor had agreed to let Tommy plead guilty to a greatly reduced misdemeanor charge, and he was given a small fine and a year's probation. Ernie told me that this happened because they would have looked foolish trying to convict Tommy when the victim was going to testify that he deserved what he got. Ernie knew almost everything that went on in Ridgeline. As soon as I was feeling stronger, I called Ernie, and got him to drive me over to Holton, so I could visit the pawn shop there. I purchased a .38 caliber snub nosed pistol, and a box with fifty rounds of ammo. I refused the clerk's recommendation for me to buy a cleaning kit for the gun. When I came out, Ernie asked me if I was planning on going after Tommy. He was looking right at the box of ammunition and the pistol in the bag I had laid on the floor of the cab. "Mind your own business, Ernie. I'm not mad at anyone. I'm just used to having a gun close by, that's all." We rode back home in silence. I knew that Ernie would be spreading the word about where I'd gone and what I'd bought as soon as he got somewhere where someone would listen, after he dropped me off. On my second tour in Viet Nam, I'd seen the corpses of two guys who killed themselves by putting their rifles in their mouths and pulling the trigger. Their faces didn't look too bad, just some powder burns on the inside of their mouths, but the backs of their skulls were blown out. I had decided on a temple shot for myself, it was just as effective, and not quite as messy. I didn't want anything to go wrong, but I didn't want to put the barrel in my mouth either. At seven that evening, those same two detectives who interviewed me about Tommy, came by my house and placed me under arrest. They took me down and booked me on a charge of attempted suicide. Brenda had called and told them I'd threatened to kill myself. Ernie had also called to say that I'd bought a pistol and some ammo. As soon as they booked me in, they transferred me to the psychiatric hospital in Fair Oaks, for observation, and for psychiatric assessment and evaluation. They also confiscated my pistol, claiming it was needed as evidence in my case. On the ride over to the psychiatric unit, the young detective told me that, if it was up to him, he'd have left me alone, just to see if I had the balls to do it. They kept me under observation over there for three days. They had a different doctor interview me in the morning of each day. I told them all the same story. I wasn't suicidal, I had bought the gun as personal protection for my home. I had no intention of doing away with myself. They released me after the seventy two hours were up, and the charge against me was dropped. Those two detectives had to come get me and then drop me back off at my house. When I asked for my gun to be returned, they told me I'd have to wait ninety days, and that I wasn't allowed to purchase another gun during that waiting period. I told them that I was pretty sure my lawyer would get my gun back to me a lot sooner than that. They both looked unhappy when I mentioned Mr. Chalmers. When I got home, Brenda called me within an hour of my return. She said she was calling from her apartment. "I've changed my mind about you needing to kill yourself. Just stay away from me." "I still need to do something Brenda. Not just for you. It would be for me, and for my mother too. I need to do something to try to make it right." "Tommy told me what he did to you. That sounded like it was bad enough. He also told me about your leg. Was that from the war?" "It was from me doing something stupid. Something I knew not to do." "I just want to keep all of it in the past, Gainey. You coming back home has got everyone remembering it all over again. If you just stay away from me, and from Tommy, we can just let it die out again." "It just wouldn't be enough, Brenda. Can't you think of some way that I could make it up to you?" "Just leave me alone!" She hung up the phone after she said that. I sat there, alone in the dark. I didn't feel like the beating from Tommy had been nearly enough. It had to come from Brenda. I decided to give her some time to think about things. While she was thinking, I figured that I could enroll in the community college, just to see whether I could go back to school again. I'd changed a lot in the past six years. Some of my experiences made going back to school seem doubtful. Many people were now against the war, and there were people who provoked soldiers or even ex soldiers, calling them baby killers and war criminals. I wasn't sure that I'd fit in well with people speaking to me of things they could never understand. War was a lot more real and personal when you'd lived it. I didn't know how I'd react if someone said something stupid to me right to my face. I had paid a price in order to have my opinions, they wanted to impose theirs on me without their having done anything to earn that right. I went down the next day and started looking for a car. There was a man that the V. A. worker had told me about who could modify a car so that I could have the gas and brake pedals moved so that I could drive with only my left foot and leg. I found one I liked. It was two years old, and the seat was high enough that swinging my leg in and out was fairly easy. The car cost me nineteen hundred dollars, and the V. A. paid for it to be modified so that I could drive it. After it was changed over, it took me a month of driving it before I felt comfortable behind the wheel. Having my own transportation was a lot better, even if it did make Ernie sulk when he first saw me driving myself around. I had been home for almost three months by the next time that Brenda decided to call me. It was after two in the morning, and I had been asleep. I had moved into my mom's old room. It was a lot bigger than my old room, and it had its own bathroom adjoining. If I woke up in the middle of the night needing to go, I usually used a piss bottle that I kept nearby. It was too much trouble to strap my artificial leg on just to go pee. It still took me five minutes to get the leg on in the mornings. When Brenda called, I rolled over and answered the phone extension that my mother had on her night stand. "Hello?" "It's Brenda, Gainey. Did I wake you up?" I looked at my alarm clock on the nightstand, it read two fifteen. "That's all right. Did you think of something you want me to do?" "No. I just got home from work and I was thinking. I wondered why you did that to me that time. Do you even know why?" "I've thought about it a lot. I don't know. It wasn't anything that I had planned on doing. I was nervous and excited. I guess I just lost control of myself. I've thought about it and I don't know of any other way to explain it." "Do you know how much I hated you after? I never went on another date all through high school because of what you did. The boys all thought I should give them the same thing you took from me. If someone even touches me, I want to go home and jump in the shower to clean their touch off of me." "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't make it any better, Brenda, but I don't know what more I can say to you." "I heard you bought yourself a car, Gainey. I don't have a car. Tommy says you have lots of money now that your mother is dead. Is that true, are you rich?" "I've got about ninety thousand dollars. Do you want me to buy you a car? I will if you want one." She hung up on me. I laid in the bed, thinking about what she had said. By the time it was four o'clock, I knew it was going to be a waste of time for me to try to get back to sleep. I put my leg on and got up. I felt better about Brenda calling me. For awhile, I was afraid that she had decided to just ignore me. I wasn't sure about what I needed her to do, but ignoring me wouldn't be enough. She had to punish me in some way that I would feel sufficiently harmed by it. I had an idea that my mother would have felt better about things if I hadn't run away like I did. I registered for school over at the junior college and signed up to take four classes. Because of my military service, I had satisfied several course requirements, including all of my PE classes. I wound up having almost twenty credits because of this. You only needed a total of sixty credits to graduate from there. One of my classes was five credits, but it had a lab on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with regular hour long classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I took two other classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and a class in Meteorology on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was a full schedule, but I had to take at least twelve credits a semester to get the Vocational Rehabilitation money. I'd been in school for about a month when Brenda called me again. She sounded drunk when she called, but at least it wasn't at two in the morning this time. "Gainey, would you leave there if I asked you to? If I told you that you being around here was upsetting to me?" "Is that what you want me to do, Brenda? I guess I could do it if it would make things better for you. Sure, I'd do that. Is that what you want me to do?" "Do you promise to stay away and never come back here?" "I promise. You won't ever have to hear from me again. Is that enough for you?" "I don't know if it would be. Don't leave until I decide. Tell me what happened to your leg." "You don't want to hear about it. It was something stupid that happened when I was out on a patrol. I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. I hit a trip wire and got my leg blown off by a booby trap." "What did you think when it happened? Were you awake after?" "I started screaming, and they came up and put on a tourniquet, and gave me some morphine. I went to sleep, and woke up on a Navy hospital ship out off the coast. After they had operated on my stump and cleaned up my wounds, they air evacuated me to San Francisco. I don't really remember that much about it until I got to the stateside hospital a week after it had happened to me." "Did you think you were going to die?" "I guess I did at first. There was a lot of blood and I saw that most of my leg looked like hamburger meat. Most of it was hanging by some skin and a little bit of meat. I hurt something fierce. Mostly I wanted it to quit hurting me." "You hurt me like that. I wanted to die after what you did to me. I liked you before that. I've thought about that night a lot. It didn't have to be like that. Why didn't you wait?" "I can't answer that. I was only going to kiss you at first. That was all I was going to do. After that, it was like in a dream. I got confused between what I was really doing, and what I'd been thinking of doing with a girl for so long. By the time I came to my senses, it was already over. I drove you home, and then I went home and packed a bag with some of my clothes. After that, I just took off. I had no idea where I was going. I was trying to escape from what I did to you." "I didn't tell my parents for a week. I thought it was something that I did wrong. After I told them, I refused to go down to the police station and file a complaint. My mom and dad thought it must have been at least partly my fault. You have no idea how bad it made me feel when even my own family thought I'd caused it. I went to your house and told your mom. She was the first one who told me it wasn't my fault. She was so nice to me." "She only talked to me once after it happened. She told me she wished I'd never been born. I was getting ready to ship out the next day, going back to Viet Nam. I never got the chance to make it up to her. She died hating me." My voice must have cracked a little when I spoke that last part. "That isn't true, Gainey. She certainly hated what you had done, but she never hated you. She even told me to quit hating you. She said that hating you was just hurting me. I was sitting with her the first time you called, the time that she hung up on you. She was so upset for doing that. She said it was an involuntary reaction. She stayed by that phone after, hoping you'd call back. When you never did call back, she got bitter towards you. The second time you called, she told me what she said. She said she wished she hadn't given in to her anger at you. She always hoped after that you'd call her again, so that she could tell you something more hopeful." "I didn't know that you knew my mother." "I never did until after you left. I went over to your house to tell her what you did to me, and that was the first time I ever laid eyes on her. She said she had already heard about it because of what my father and mother were telling people in the town about what you did." "Did you get drunk so you could call me, or were you drunk and then decided it was a good idea to call me?" "I drink at home a lot. Sometimes, when I'm drinking, I start remembering things I wanted to forget. Today, I was thinking about what you said about me needing to decide a punishment for you. That's when I decided to call you. I'm not positive yet that I want you to leave though. You're the only person I know, left alive at least, that knows I didn't do anything wrong that night." "I admitted to the police what I did to you. I thought they'd arrest me, but they didn't." "They called me right after Tommy beat you up, while you were still in the hospital. They asked me some questions, but I told them I wasn't going to talk about that time. They were mad when I kept telling them that. When I called them back to tell them that you were going to kill yourself, that's who I talked to." "Why did you call them? I thought I was doing what you wanted me to?" "It was what I said, but that was before Tommy's hurting you so bad, and before I knew about your leg being blown off. I didn't want you to do it, and then I'd have to carry that guilt for the rest of my life. I already have enough problems trying to get by." "Why don't you want me to buy you a car then? I don't need that money, and I don't like to think of you not having your own transportation." "I'm not a whore, Gainey. You can't just pay me off like I was one. If I let you buy me a car, people would be certain that I was your whore." "This whole town is too caught up in minding other people's business. I wish you'd come up with something that I could do, Brenda. Anything, just so this could finally be over." "I've been having this crazy idea, Gainey. I don't know if it's because I've been drinking or what, but I wondered if you touched me would I need to go in and take a shower or not? I know that's crazy. I mean it's because of you that I react that way in the first place. Still, I've been wondering. It was a long time ago, and it doesn't seem to be going away. I'm twenty two years old now, and I can't stand for anyone to touch me." "You should go to see someone, a professional, to help you with that. I'd pay for it, and no one would know unless you told them." "I don't want to go tell my troubles to a stranger, Gainey. My idea I could try. I'm not sure how it would turn out, but we'd know in an instant at least. That other stuff takes years. I don't want people messing with my head anyway. It is already messed up enough." "Call me back when you haven't been drinking, Brenda. If you still think you want to try it, I'm willing. I'm afraid it might be worse if I touched you, than it would be with some other person. Isn't there anyone else that you can stand to touch you?" "Your mother and mine, and my nephews, Tommy's two kids. I haven't tried to touch many people though. I'm not going to work tomorrow until five thirty. Come over here before then, and we'll shake hands. I know I'm not going to stop wondering until you touch me." After we hung up, I called Mr. Chalmers and asked him if he knew of a psychiatrist close by between here and Bolling. He knew someone right in Bolling that he said had a good reputation. I called the number that Mr. Chalmers got for me, and made an appointment for the very next day to go talk with Dr. Fleming. The doctor was a lady doctor, and I thought that might be even better for Brenda. At eleven the next morning, I went in and met with Laura Fleming. She was about fifty years old, wore a dark colored dress and led me back to her consulting office for my appointment. I spent fifteen minutes giving her a run down about all that had happened in the past six years. I told her that I was really concerned about whether my touching Brenda might harm her in some way, bringing back unpleasant memories and associations. Mr. Crocker, if she wants to touch you, even if only to satisfy her own curiosity, it is doubtful that any harm will come to her. I am curious about why she came to be curious though. It isn't behavior that I'd normally expect to see from a rape victim such as you've described. Are you certain that she sees that event the same way that you do?" "I'm certain. I wasn't too gentle with her, and she fought me off as well as she could. It was forcible rape from the beginning." "Before that night, what was your relationship like? Would you characterize it as close?" "We had just started dating. It was only our fourth or fifth date. We had only kissed on her porch after our dates. We hadn't ever done any touching other than hand holding, and not too much of that. She was just sixteen years old. I think I was only the second boy she had ever gone out with. It wasn't some kind of make out session that just went too far. I wish it had been like that, but it wasn't." "Do you know what her feelings were for you before that evening?" "I'm sure she liked me well enough, but we were just beginning to even get to know each other. We started going out because she had told a friend of mine that she liked me. I knew her older brother a little bit. He's two years older than me, but we both played together on the football team his senior year. After I graduated from high school, I was taking a year off before starting college. I worked for an auto parts company, doing deliveries and working behind the counter some. Her brother worked at a garage where I made deliveries sometimes. I asked him if it was okay to ask her out after my friend said she liked me." "Is it possible that she felt a lot more for you than you felt for her? If she did, that might be an important factor in why she has been so strongly affected, and also why she is having difficulties adjusting to your having returned to this area. Some of the things you've told me lead me to believe this might be the case. I would be happy to speak with her if you can convince her to come see me. I'm confident that I could get her to understand better the reasons for her strong feelings. I'm concerned about her frequent drinking. I'd prefer if you could get her in to see someone before it becomes problematic for her." I'm going over to see her when I'm done here. I'll try to get her to come see you. Can you give me an appointment time for tomorrow? Either she'll come here then, or else I'll be back myself. I'd like to understand some things better myself." When we were done, she went out front with me and got the receptionist to give me an appointment for the next day at eleven again. It cost my forty dollars for that first session, and I paid it with cash. I had told the doctor that I'd be the one paying for any of Brenda's appointments with her. It was a little bit after twelve when I pulled up in front of Brenda's apartment. I went over and knocked at her door. When she opened the door, she had her intruder chain attached, and she only opened the door about three inches. She looked at me through that narrow opening. "Stick your hand through the door, Gainey, but don't try to come inside." I was a little surprised by what she asked, but I complied with her orders. I kept my hand there for at least thirty seconds, but didn't feel her touching me. "Take it back out, Gainey, I've changed my mind about this." I took my hand away and she shut the door as soon as it was clear. "Don't leave yet, Gainey. I still want to talk to you some more." "Are you going to talk to me through the closed door?" "No, come over to the window and I'll open it a little bit so we don't have to yell at each other to be heard." "Okay with me, but won't your neighbors think something funny is going on?" "This is the best I can manage right now, Gainey. You said you'd do what I asked you to do. You meant that didn't you?" "Yes, I meant it. I just got back from seeing this psychiatrist. I told her about what had happened. She wants to meet you so that she can get your side too. I'm hoping she can help me, and maybe she can help you with things too." "What did you tell her about me? You had no right to talk about me like that." "I told her about that night, and about how I did that to you. I want to find out why I acted like that. I told her that you were innocent and that I attacked you. I had to tell her, or else she couldn't help me. She asked a lot of questions about you, and I didn't know many of the answers." "What sort of questions did she ask about me?" "The hardest one was when she asked about how you felt about me before that night." "What did you tell her?" "I said that I thought you liked me well enough, and that we'd gone out together a few times. I told her about Herb telling me that you liked me before I ever asked you out." "Is that why you asked me, because of Herb?" "Mostly. I wasn't going out with anyone else, and I thought you were kind of cute." "I wasn't cute, I was skinny as a rail and had no figure at all. My hair was too short and I was so shy. I couldn't believe it when you called and asked me to go out with you. It was Glenda, Herb's sister, that must have told him that I liked you." "Well, that's why I asked you out the first time. After that, it was because I liked you too." "You were always so quiet when we were out, I didn't know if you even liked me at all. Every time you took me home, I thought that was going to be the last time you took me out." "I thought the same thing about you. Every time I called you after a date to ask for another one, I always thought you were going to tell me that you didn't want to go out with me anymore." "Go back over to my door again, Gainey. Put your hand through it again." I went back to her door and waited until it opened that three or four inches again. This time, when I stuck my hand through, I felt Brenda touching it with both of her own hands. I didn't understand why, but that contact with her made me feel so much better. It was almost like I could feel a little bit of forgiveness coming through from her. Then, as quickly as she'd touched me, she took her hands away and screamed at me to get my hand back away from her. She slammed the door right after I got my hand clear. If I'd stopped or hesitated, my fingers would have been broken at the very least. "Go away now, Gainey. That's enough for today. I'm sorry about slamming my door like that." "That's okay, Brenda. I'm sorry I made you have to do it. I'm going to come over tomorrow in the morning for another appointment with my doctor. Do you want to come with me? She might be able to help us both with things." "No! I told you I don't want anyone trying to look inside my head. Please, go away now." ------- Chapter 2 When I left Brenda's and drove back home, I still felt like the two of us had made a little bit of progress. Something that we had talked about over at the window had gotten her to decide to try to touch me after she wasn't able to the first time. It was true that the actual touching hadn't been that big of a success, but I had already figured out that it wasn't going to be an easy thing for me to try and set things back to rights with Brenda. The next day I finished up my Meteorology class just in time to make it over to Bolling to keep my appointment with Dr. Fleming. She seemed disappointed that Brenda hadn't come with me. After I told her about what Brenda and I had talked about and done the day before, she asked me if I had tried to call Brenda later to see if she was doing all right. I explained to her then that I didn't know Brenda's phone number. It occurred to me that I hadn't done too good a job in explaining to Dr. Fleming the tenuous connection I had with Brenda. I tried to explain it better to her. "So, you wait until she contacts you now? You never tried to initiate contact with her after that first time?" "She told me to go away and leave her alone." "Why do you think she called the police about your intentions with that pistol? Why do you think she has phoned you so often?" "She calls about once every month or less. I wouldn't call that often." "From the woman you've described, those phone calls represent a major effort at reaching out to you. For all you know, those might be the only phone calls she has made to anyone." "Do you think I should drive by her apartment after I'm done here to see if she's okay?" "If you did it because you were concerned, genuinely concerned, then, yes, I think you should. If you were doing it only because you wanted to do what I might approve of you doing, then, no." "I'll stop by then, just to make sure she's all right. If she asks me to leave right away, then I'll just do that." I got to Brenda's about the same time as the day before. She didn't open up her door, but she did sound happy that I had stopped by. She sent me over to the window right away. When I got there, she even opened the drape a little so that I could see her some. Maybe she did it so that she could see me too. "Did you go see that doctor again?" "Yes. I don't know if she can help me though. She seems concerned more about how you're doing than with me. She told me that I should talk to you more about things. Find out more about how you feel. I was wondering if you'd mind if I phoned you sometimes?" "I don't know if I'd like that or not. I don't usually give out my phone number to people. I think I like it better the way it is right now." "All right. I'm going to some classes over at the community college. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to come over here to see the doctor. I just thought that I'd like to be able to call you and talk sometimes, kind of like you do with me." "You want me to quit calling you?" "No, I like it when you call me. You don't call very often though. Did you need to take a shower yesterday? After you touched my arm?" "I don't want to discuss that with you, Gainey. It wasn't what I expected though. I can tell you that much at least." "There's something else I've been thinking about, something I need to tell you. I don't think I can tell it to you in person like this." "Is it something else bad that you did?" "No, it isn't like that. Sometime when you call me, if you do, ask me about the dream that I keep having." "Is it a dream about me?" "I need to get back, Brenda. My next class is at two o'clock. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay. I'll talk to you later. Remember, if you think of something you want me to do, I'll do it if I can." "Don't go before you come to my door again, Gainey. Put your arm in just like you did that last time." This time, when I put my arm through the door, Brenda was hidden behind the door so I couldn't see her. She took my arm in both her hands again, and in a short time she started moving my hand sideways, and I felt my finger tips touching something else, possibly bare skin, for a few seconds before she stopped. She didn't let my arm go, but she did stop moving it sideways. "Gainey, I'm going to let your arm go for a few seconds, but don't take it back yet, all right?" "All right. You want me to just leave it there?" Instead of her answering me, I felt her take hold of my arm again with both of her hands. This time she moved my arm down until it was at an uncomfortable angle for me. My prosthesis needed to be moved around so that it didn't have too much pressure on it. I wound up mostly balanced on my good leg with my knee bent. She started moving my hand sideways again, and this time, in addition to soft skin, I felt the finger tips passing through hair and then back over soft skin again. I heard what I thought was a soft groan from just inside and behind that door. Just as suddenly as before, Brenda released my arm. I hurried to get it back from the door, worried that she'd slam it shut before I could get it free again. "Gainey, I'm done with my experiment now. I'll call you tonight when I get off work. Is that all right?" "Sure. That will be good." "Are you mad at me for what I just did?" "No, I already told you that I would do what you wanted me to. I'm not even sure about what it is you just did." I drove back to the college and attended my lab class. I had the headset on and was listening to the voice drone on in Spanish, but all of my thoughts were on what I thought Brenda had been doing with my hand. I believed that had to have been her pubic hair she was running my fingers back and forth through. If it was, what did it mean? When I got home, I made my supper and went to bed at seven o'clock. I wanted to be alert for when Brenda called me. I went to sleep finally, at around ten o'clock. When the phone rang, it was after five in the morning, and Brenda had been drinking. From the sound of her words, she must have started drinking heavily as soon as she got off of work. "Gainey, do I disgust you? Do you hate me for doing that?" "I already answered that, Brenda. I don't hate you, and you don't disgust me. I thought you hated me, but now I'm not sure." "I thought I did too. In fact, I'm sure I did. That's not even the worst part though. Touching you doesn't make me want to go get clean again. I guess I already suspected that, even before yesterday and today though. There has to be something really wrong with me to feel the way I do. You raped me, and I hated every second of it. Because of that, I couldn't even stand to think about having sex with anyone. Now I'm thinking about you like that. Today, I acted like some slutty person, rubbing my body like that against you. What am I going to do now, Gainey? I could barely stand to be like I was before you came back, so how will I ever live with feeling like this about you?" "I don't know, Brenda. I've sort of had a similar problem ever since that time out at Kraemer Junction. Remember I told you about that dream I keep having? You asked me if it was a dream about you. It sort of is a dream about you and me, but it isn't about now. It is a dream about that night, the boy and girl we used to be, not who we've turned out to be. In this dream, I don't rape you. Everything is still the same, but in my dream, you want to do it as much as I do. When I have this dream, I always wake up crying, and calling your name." "I didn't want to do it! I don't want you dreaming about me that way. You raped me, and I want you to always keep that fact straight in your mind. I'm not going to let you pretend that it was anything different than that. It might have turned out just like you dreamed about, but only if you'd waited until it was the right time for us to do that together." "Don't get upset. I know it's only a dream. I know what I really did. I don't ever confuse the two of them. I just wanted you to know that I never forget how it was. There is never a time that I don't regret what I did. I'm not having that dream trying to pretend the rape was different than it was. It was a rape, open and shut case. You were the victim and I was the rapist. Part of what I was saying was that you can't control how you need to react to things. You shouldn't worry about what happened between us today. I worry about that dream. I wanted you to know that, in my mind, I really wish it had been different, and that I hadn't hurt you like I did." "Do you want me to hate you again? I can go back to hating you if that's what you want." "What I want is for you to find a way to be okay again. I want to help to set some of the things right that can be set right." "You can't take it back, or make it like it never happened, and that is the only thing that would make it right." "I know that. I want to make it better though. I want to make it less harmful to you in any way I can." "Yesterday helped to do that. If you can accept that I might want to use you, for my own selfish needs, just the same as you used me that time." "You can use me any way you want to." "I'm going to. You just remember that you are the one that told me I could. I never told you that you could, but you did it anyway. Ask your doctor why I get excited by your touch when other people touching me makes me want to scream and run away. When do you see her again?" "I've got an appointment next Tuesday. Do you want me to come by after?" "Is she young? Is she prettier than me?" "She's fifty years old, or pretty close to it." "Is she pretty?" "She's all right looking. A little too old for me to be thinking if she's pretty or not. She probably was pretty twenty years ago. Do you want me to come see you after my appointment?" "Do you think that I'm pretty?" "You're more than pretty. You're so pretty, it almost breaks my heart when I think about what I've done to you." "People tell me I am. I don't feel pretty. I stay in my apartment and drink by myself. What you have to do, Gainey, is find a way to convince me that I really am pretty. If you do that, so I really believe it, I'll forgive you for raping me." After she hung up the phone, I tried to remember all the things that we'd talked about. Conversations with Brenda were somewhat circular in nature. My instinct was that we were making progress, heading towards some kind of resolution. There were so many things about her that were worrying to me. Her drinking, the way she stayed locked up in her apartment. I could see that she really wanted to do something to me, something to make me understand a little bit of what she'd had to go through when I raped her. From what she had told me, and from what I had felt her do, there were other feelings about me that she had as well. I worried about how much of that was a byproduct of me having raped her before. I called Dr. Fleming, but she was busy with a patient. I asked her receptionist if she had any free time where I could come see her that day. She told me I could have an hour between three thirty and four thirty. It meant me skipping out from my English class, but I felt it was more important to ask the doctor's advice. I was even more worried that I'd do something stupid, something that would end up being harmful to Brenda. I wound up cutting my class, and driving over to Bolling. It took over half an hour to tell the doctor what had happened, both in our meeting at the apartment, and the later phone conversation. She kept interrupting me, asking how this or that had made me feel. I tried to explain that I had an overall feeling of being worried, but that I didn't feel qualified to keep trying to do what was best for Brenda, not without some guidance and assistance. "Gainey, what makes you believe that Brenda is some fragile waif that the least little bit of being upset is going to throw her whole live into turmoil. The more you tell me about the relationship that is developing between you two, the more concerned I'm getting that you're the one who needs protecting. From yourself, as well as from Brenda. If you take what Brenda is telling you at its full face value, your reappearance into her life has been producing positive results in her level of adjustment to her current circumstances. I admit her drinking concerns me, as well as her aversion to physical contact with people. She isn't the one who is constantly contemplating suicide though, or allowing others to beat him into a coma or worse." "Its mostly that I'm the cause for her even having these problems. She is the victim here, not me. I'm just trying to do something to make the problems I've created better." "That is commendable, but only as long as your focusing on reasonable sacrifices to make amends. Offering to pay for her therapy is appropriate and reasonable. Allowing someone to come over and beat you unconscious, or offering to terminate your own life as punishment for your actions, that is unreasonable, and it is unhealthy behavior. You cannot allow a single horrible decision to impact your whole future like you've allowed this to do. Brenda must believe by now that you are sincere in your sorrow for the harm you inflicted on her. Going past a certain point is detrimental for both of you. Agree on some course of action, or monetary compensation, something that will satisfy the two of you." "I told her that I'd do anything she asked of me. That's what I meant. Tommy, her brother, got his one shot at me. Brenda is the only one that needs to be satisfied now. I wish you could meet her and talk with her. You'd be able to see right away how much what I did to her has changed her entire life. We need to do something to help her get things back on track." "She has to come to me, Gainey. She has to want to have things change before any change is possible. From what you've told me, I have my doubts that she will ever agree to allowing a professional to help her with these problems. I hope I'm wrong, but that is my current take from what you've told me." "How can I convince her to come see you?" "She has to want to try to deal with her life in a different way than she is now accustomed to doing. A therapist can often be a catalyst for change. She has to be open to the idea of changing." I drove over to Brenda's apartment as soon as our session was over. She seemed surprised to see me when she opened her door. I didn't know who she was expecting, but she opened her door wide, up until she saw that it was me. She shut it back up, and I could hear her fastening the intruder chain before the door reopened. "What are you doing here today, Gainey? I wasn't expecting you today. I'm waiting for my ride to work. I thought that's what the knock was for. You startled me." "I'm sorry, Brenda. I had to come to town today, and I thought I'd stop by and see if you were all right. I didn't know you went in to work so early." "I usually don't go in so early, but I had a chance to get a ride and to go get something to eat before work. He'll probably be here pretty soon, and I need to finish up getting ready. If you want, I can call you after work, and we can talk then?" "Sure, that would be fine. I'll go then, and let you get ready. Goodbye." I went back to my car and got inside it. There was a small part of me that wanted to stay right where I was until someone came so I could find out who was taking Brenda to work and out to eat. I found myself getting jealous and suspicious. Whatever happened to Brenda's fear of people and her aversion to contact? What she described to me seemed a lot like a dinner date before work to me. It took me a minute, but I finally decided that I wasn't in any position to interfere in that part of Brenda's life. I shouldn't be upset by this. I started up my engine and was just pulling out, when Ernie showed up in his cab. He beeped his horn, and I saw Brenda come running out of her apartment. She jumped in the back seat of Ernie's cab and he took off. It all happened faster than I could react to it. I drove home wondering how Brenda could afford to bring Ernie all the way over from Ridgeline to take her out to eat, and then take her to her work. She called me a little after two thirty in the morning. "Hi Gainey. I guess now you know my secret boy friend's identity. I knew I wouldn't be able to hide him from you for much longer." She sure seemed in a good mood, and she didn't sound like she'd been drinking. I decided to play it light with her too. "Well he's a good one all right. With Ernie as your boyfriend, you won't ever have to worry about not knowing what's going on over here in Ridgeline." "He's my uncle you know? My mother's brother. He comes over to see me sometimes, and today was one of those times. He was sure surprised to see you there too though. I told him that you come over to see me sometimes. Now, everyone will know that. Uncle Ernie isn't much on secrets." "I went to see Dr. Fleming today. I told her about yesterday, about what we said and did. I asked her why you were excited by my touch instead of being repelled by it. She said she'd need to speak to you before she could tell you why. She also said she was more worried about me than about you." "I could have told you that, Gainey, and I wouldn't charge you twenty dollars an hour for the information either." "It's forty dollars an hour, but she has a lot of education and experience with people like me." "There is only one person like you, Gainey. You should have already learned that by now. I already know why you excite me too. I figured it out by myself, tonight at work." "Good. Tell me why." "Because I convinced myself a long time ago that I loved you. I think I had to do that to keep myself from going crazy after what happened. Somehow, if I loved you, it made it less terrible that you had raped me. I was young enough that I could convince myself that you had only done that because you loved me too, and because you couldn't help yourself." "I wish it was something I could convince myself of. I don't understand why I did it yet, but I'm going to find out one of these days." "You won't find out, Gainey. You might work out a reason that makes sense to you, but you won't ever really know why. What I figured out today, it's probably all wrong, but it is something that makes it easier for me to live with what happened to me. My mind has convinced my body that I love you. I could probably talk myself out of it if I tried to hard enough. I'm not going to try to though. Do you want to know why?" "Yes, more than anything." "Because I've spent the last six years afraid of my own shadow. You caused that to happen to me. I haven't had anything like a normal life since that happened. I plan on using you to get back what I lost, Gainey. I figure that if I have a lot of good sexual experiences with you, then I'll be able to enjoy all those things with someone else, someone who never hurt me like you did. I want you to cure me by letting me use you for my pleasure. My body responds to you, and that's all I care about right now. I want the same pleasures that other girls take for granted, and you're going to provide them to me." "I'd be happy to do that too, but there is one thing that might ruin that plan. Since that night six years ago, my dick has stopped working. I haven't had a hard on since that night. I have to get help, and be cured, before I can help you to be better." "That isn't true. If that's true, you can't help me at all. I was counting on you for some help, Gainey. Are you sure it won't work?" "I'm positive. I've given it every kind of help I could think of, and nothing worked. Except for those dreams I told you about. When I have those dreams, I wake up with a mess in my drawers. That's the only time it ever works, and I'm asleep when that happens." "Is that doctor working on trying to fix that? What does she say?" "She says that I need to forgive myself for what I did to you." "Gainey, you don't know how excited it made me to feel something sexual again. I'd about given up on having any more of those feelings. You can't take away my chance for this. You said you'd do anything. You promised me. The first time I'm really sure about what you can do to make it up to me, you come up with a doozy of an excuse. When you wanted to do it to me, it worked fine, but now that it's my turn, suddenly you're suffering from a droopy noodle. You better get it fixed, Gainey, because I'm expecting some good times from it." "There is nothing I'd rather do than provide you with whatever pleasure I can. I can't perform a miracle though. I'll keep going to the doctor because I think she can help me. It might go faster if you met with her a few times also. If she knows you, she might be able to help me easier, or at least, faster." "Tomorrow is Saturday. You come by here when you get up. Your hand still works even if that other thing doesn't. I'm anxious to see if those feelings are going to keep coming for me. Are you going to be here?" "I told you I'd do whatever you want, Brenda, at least I will if I can do it. I'll come over some time after nine. Is that okay? Are you going to let me in, or is this going to be through your doorway again?" "I don't know. I think I'm almost ready to let you inside my apartment. All day at work I was thinking about things I wanted you to do with me." She finally said goodbye, right after four o'clock. I wasn't able to get back to sleep right away. I thought about everything she had told me. For six years, not being able to achieve an erection hadn't really bothered me. In fact, I was relieved about it. Brenda was the girl I most wanted to please. Maybe not being able to perform was going to be my real punishment. I thought about that. Of all of the punishments I had been able to conjure up, being unable to make love to a willing and excited Brenda was the cruelest one of all. It seemed almost a perfect fit for my earlier crime. I went to sleep and had a new dream. In my dream, Brenda and my mother were talking about me. I was standing right in front of the two of them, with my pants and underwear pulled down. My dick was just sitting there, soft and useless. The two of them would look at it, and one would make a comment about how pathetic I was, and then, the two of them would break out in howling laughter. I woke up, sweating and thirsty. I tried to get up and get myself a glass of water. I was almost standing up when I realized I only had one leg. I fell backwards, landing painfully on my stump. I was happy that I didn't do any real damage to myself. As soon as I fastened the straps on my leg, and stood up, I knew that I was going to have to get some treatment on the damaged leg. I'd bruised the bone inside the stump when I landed on it. It looked as though I was going to have to disappoint Brenda once again. I called Ernie at eight o'clock and asked him if he'd call Brenda and tell her that I needed to run over to the Air Base and get some work done on my leg. I told him that I'd injured it, and I couldn't delay getting it worked on. He said he'd call her for me. ------- Chapter 3 It took me all morning to see that they got my stump properly attended to. It wasn't a serious injury, but it was painful, and I felt better after having everything checked out. It was a big relief to be told that no permanent damage had been done. I drove over to Bolling as soon as I was done. When I arrived at Brenda's apartment, it was almost one o'clock. I was really very hungry, and anxious to get something to eat. I knocked on her door and she opened it only a few inches, but I noticed that she hadn't latched it with the intruder chain. "I'm sorry to be so late, Brenda. I had an accident this morning and I needed to go out to the base and make certain that I hadn't done any damage that needed to be repaired." "What kind of an accident. Uncle Ernie called me and told me that you asked him to call. He said you hurt your leg." "I fell back onto my stump and it really hurt like hell. I wanted to be sure it wasn't serious. I didn't eat yet today. Can we go out and get something together?" "You mean to a restaurant? I'm not sure I trust you enough to be alone in a car with you again, Gainey." "I understand, I'm sorry. That wasn't very good thinking on my part. Is it all right if I go out and get something to go, and then I'll come back and we can eat it? I really am hungry." "If I come with you, do you promise not to try to touch me? If it gets too bad, you'll have to bring me right back here." "Look, I don't want to do anything that's going to make things uncomfortable for you. I can go out and get something. It isn't that big of a bother for me to do that." "I need to start trusting you sometime, Gainey. You just have to try to keep from scaring me. Don't be upset if I have some kind of nervous reaction to being in a car with you. I'm going to get in the back seat anyway. I don't like being up front anymore." She told me to go out and get in my car and she would come out in a minute. When we were both settled in my car, I asked her if there was some restaurant in particular that she preferred. She said that she didn't go out to eat often, but that she really liked any kind of Chinese food. I took her to the Happy Dragon Restaurant. It was close, and it was the only Chinese Restaurant that I knew in Bolling. My mother and I had gone there for my high school graduation celebration dinner. It seemed so long ago to me. We both ordered two items. I had the beef and broccoli and the shrimp fried rice. Brenda ordered the egg rolls and the spicy shrimp dinner. I ate one of her four egg rolls, and she had two heaping spoonfuls of both my choices. The only strange part about any of it was that Brenda insisted on doing the ladling from my dishes, and her putting the egg roll on my plate, before I touched anything. It was almost as though she thought I was contaminated. She finished all of her food, but I only finished the beef and broccoli. Half of my shrimp fried rice was left. "Aren't you going to finish your rice?" "No, I'm full. You can have it if you want it." "No, I better not." She looked like she really wanted it. It must have been her aversion to touching anything I'd touched. "You should have taken more before I touched the plate." "I didn't know you were going to waste so much, else I would have." She was looking at me in a way I recognized as being disapproving. She reminded me, at least in that instant, of my mother. It wasn't that she looked at all like I remembered my mom looking. I guess her facial expression was what reminded me of my mom. For some strange reason, it was in that instant that all the weight of what I had put my mother through landed squarely on my shoulders. I felt the full pain of her loss crushing my heart and filling me with anguish and sorrow. It must have shown on my face, because Brenda reached across, instinctively, and put her hand on top of my own. It rested there for only a matter of a few seconds before she realized what she had done and quickly pulled her hand back. In those few seconds I had felt a connection to Brenda that I'd never had before. It had nothing to do with sex or with guilt and remorse, it was just the two of us sharing a moment. Brenda seemed to realize that it had been momentous too, because she reached across and grabbed my plate of shrimp fried rice and pulled it over in front of her. She was flustered, as she began lifting forkfuls of the rice into her mouth. I sat watching her eat, realizing that her doing so, marked yet another milestone for the two of us. After five or six bites, Brenda seemed to relax again. By the time she was finished with the rice, both of us had calmed back down again. I paid the bill, leaving too large of a tip behind. I left the restaurant, wondering what my mother would have thought had she known that Brenda and I had actually shared a meal together again. I felt sure that it would have made her less upset with me. I took comfort in that, but I still felt sorrow for not giving her anything in the way of comfort while she still lived. I opened the door to leave the restaurant, letting Brenda pass through in front of me. I noticed she was careful to avoid any accidental contact between us. When we got to the car, Brenda opened her own door and sat in the back seat once again. I hadn't really thought it would be different, so I didn't think much of it. We drove back to her apartment in silence. When we got there, Brenda jumped out and walked quickly to her apartment door. She didn't tell me anything, so I had absolutely no idea of what she expected from me next. Was I supposed to take that as a hint and leave? Was I supposed to go over to her apartment door and knock on it? I sat in my car, trying to make a decision. I had almost decided to leave when Brenda's door opened back up, and she looked out at me. It was awkward, the two of us staring at each across a distance of about one hundred feet. It must have been at least five minutes before Brenda shut her door again. For some reason, I took that as a signal from her that she had expected me to come over to her apartment. Why else would she have stood in her doorway for five minutes? I got out of my car, walked over to her door, and knocked on it once. She opened it right away, no intruder latch again, and this time it was open at least a foot. "Didn't you want to talk to me some more, Gainey?" "You got out so quick, I wasn't sure that I hadn't done something to upset you." "Don't you think I'd have said something if you did?" "I don't know. I get nervous around you most times. I don't want to do anything to make you mad or afraid." "That's almost funny. We're both afraid of each other. If I let you come in, you have to go sit on the couch. You can't make any sudden moves either. Do you agree?" "Are you sure that you're ready for this? We can take it slower if you want. There isn't a deadline or anything." "Are you coming in, or are you running away again?" She sounded suddenly angry with me. She opened the door enough for me to come through it. I walked in, and then over to the low sofa and eased my way down on it. My leg was still tender and painful, and I had the prosthesis laid out at an unnatural angle for the way most people with two real legs would sit. I was going for comfort at the moment though. I figured she would understand the need. "Nice apartment." I said this as I looked around. It looked like a smallish one bedroom apartment. The living room and the kitchen were open to each other. Either room, by itself, would have looked tiny. Open like they were, they just appeared small. I could see through the hall into her bedroom. It too looked small. "Do you need to take your leg off or anything?" "Excuse me?" "Your leg that you hurt this morning. Would it help if you took it off for awhile?" "I usually only take it off at night when I'm going to take a shower or going to bed. Its fine like it is right now." "I'd feel safer if you took it off while you're here." "I'd need to take my pants off too. I promise I'm not going to attack you or anything." "Maybe you aren't planning to, but you weren't planning to the last time either. At least that's what you've told me." "Maybe I should just leave. It would embarrass me for you to see me like that. I'd need to prepare myself mentally to show myself to you that way." "I need you to be more vulnerable than I am right now. I'm awful close to panicking, Gainey, please." I undid my belt buckle and spent the next five minutes struggling out of my pants and unfastening my artificial leg. Brenda watched me, caught up in the intricate straps that held my leg in place. I knew I was flushed with embarrassment. Over the past months, many nurses had seen me like this, but never anyone that I cared about. Brenda understood that I'd be vulnerable without my prosthesis. After I sat my leg close by where I could quickly retrieve it, Brenda came closer and looked at my stump and at the insert area of the artificial limb. I had the stump covered with an elastic protector. She couldn't see the stump end itself. I felt better about that at least. "Take that elastic thing off your leg. I want to see it naked." I did as she requested. More like what she had demanded. I was expecting her to make some cutting comment about how ugly the discolored scarring was. It wasn't a neat scar pattern. It was angry looking still, but it was a lot prettier than it had been. I felt like I was sitting there in danger of being attacked in some way. I felt somewhat helpless to protect myself. "Are you all done with gawking at me?" She was also looking at the front of my briefs. This made me uncomfortable as well. When I'm nervous or uncomfortable, my dick sort of retreats. The front of my underpants looked nearly empty, and she was staring at it. "I want you to take off the other pants too. I want to take a look at it." "I'm not at my best right now, Brenda. I'm nervous and embarrassed. There isn't that much to see. Can't you let me keep my underpants on?" "You said you'd do whatever I asked, Gainey. Take off those pants." Her tone of voice wasn't reasonable. It was strident and emotionally charged, demanding. "I'm not ripping them off you, like you did to mine." I reached on both sides and pulled my underpants off. The head of my shriveled up dick barely poked through the pubic hair. I was well humiliated. If that was her intention, she'd succeeded in accomplishing it. "It seemed a lot bigger to me six years ago. Is there that much difference between normal and hard?" "These aren't exactly ideal conditions for me to put myself on display. There is a lot going on in my head right now, and all of it prevents me from putting my best foot forward as it were." "I only see one foot. Isn't that going to be your best one by default?" "You are correct, in a literal sense at least. None of this playful banter is going to improve the majesty of my moment though. I hope it at least amuses you, because this whole situation leaves me embarrassed and humiliated." "Don't you dare speak to me about your humiliation, Gainey! I've had six years of humiliation. If I went and got a rolling pin and shoved it up your ass, maybe that might qualify as humiliation, but not this. This isn't humiliating." "Go ahead and enjoy yourself then. This is the last time you'll ever get the chance." "Why? Do you think we're all even now? If you do, it just shows me that you don't know what you've done to my life. I'm just showing you a tiny bit of what you showed me that night. I was curious about you too, the leg and your dick and the scar. I didn't plan on doing anything to hurt you or to ruin your life. All I wanted was to look. You can get dressed again and get out of here, if you can't take a little embarrassment." "No, you're right. I'm still new at this. I haven't gotten used to being a morbid attraction yet. Is there something else you'd like to see?" I could see her point. I'd overreacted in my embarrassment. What she'd done to me wasn't anything comparable to what I'd done to her. "Can I take your wooden leg and put it over on the other side of the room?" I wasn't comfortable having it referred to that way, but I didn't want to seem too pedantic. I nodded my assent to her. She came over, careful, lest I reach out and grab her. She grabbed at one of my straps and quickly lifted the limb from where I had it resting. She took it over to the far wall and rested it against it. "It's a lot lighter than I thought it would be." "I thought that too, in the beginning, now it seems too heavy to me." "Will you play with yourself, so I can see if you can get hard or not?" "You didn't believe what I told you?" I did grab the head between my right hand fingers and started to play with it. I knew it wasn't going to work. I'd long since quit attempting to achieve an erection. Once in awhile, when I was in the shower, I'd make a half hearted attempt, but I was almost certain at those times that nothing would happen. Nothing happened this time either. "Would it help if I took off all my clothes?" "Probably not, but I'd still love to see you without them." I felt a tiny movement in my cock head. Even that little lurch was more than I'd felt in six years. "Hold it! Something just happened to my dick. Maybe we should stop this now." "Why should we stop?" "Something happened to my dick when you spoke of getting undressed." "Isn't that what is supposed to happen? You see a naked girl or even think about one and all your blood rushes down there between your legs?" "That's what is supposed to happen, but it never does anymore with me. I don't want it to happen anymore either." "What about what I want? I thought I made it clear to you about what I want to happen." "You did. Very clear. I was only thinking about myself again. Go ahead and get undressed if you want to." "Do you think you'll get hard if I do?" "I really don't know. Its been so long since it happened to me. I'm not sure if it is possible anymore." While I was talking, Brenda was lifting her shirt up over her head. She had on a white bra underneath. Her breasts were full, and the bra cup seemed too small for all the flesh that was trapped within. When she unhooked and shrugged out of her bra, I felt a definite reaction in my dick. Brenda was looking at it the whole time too. She had to have noticed that it was growing. She undid her waist button on her pants, and slid the zipper down. It was one of those side zipper pants, so I didn't see much at first. She lowered her pants down and then sat in her chair and pulled the pants off. She lifted up and pulled her panties off too. No fanfare about it, she just pulled them down and off without hesitation, like it was a very natural thing for her to be doing. It was then that I noticed her face was flushed all the way down to the center of her chest. She stood up and approached closer to me. She was no more than five feet away from me, with one of her hands between her legs. The other hand was rubbing all over her stomach and chest. It looked like the most erotic thing I'd ever witnessed. "Well, is anything more happening?" We were both looking at my somewhat bigger, but still limp, dick. "I don't think its going to be getting any bigger, Brenda, but, this is the biggest I've seen it in a long time. Thank you." "I don't get you excited?" "No, you do. Just looking at you is like a feast for my eyes. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen naked. Probably the most beautiful period. Its just that after I raped you, this is one of the punishments that I've given myself. Dr. Fleming says that I'm the one controlling this. She says I'm preventing myself from ever having sexual enjoyment of any kind. I don't see it that way, but she's the expert. She says that, if I find a way to forgive myself for what I did to you, everything will work for me again. I don't know. I was hoping that if we ever got things back on track with your life, maybe, things would get better for me too." "This is discouraging to me. After I touched you, I was sure that I could fix things back to how they were supposed to be. Its like this is the second time you've stolen something away from me. What are you going to do to fix this for me?" "I can still do things, other things, stuff that don't require a hard dick. I could use my fingers on you if you want, or my tongue. Whatever you want me to do that I can. What you said before about curing yourself so that you could be with other guys, ones who never hurt you. If you went to see Dr. Fleming, I'm almost positive she could help you so you could do that." "You don't understand, Gainey. You broke me. You're the one that needs to fix me again. Not with your fingers either. I've got fingers myself. You need to wipe out the bad memories I have by covering them up with some good ones. If I could use anyone else to do that, I would. Do you think it would get hard if I let you touch me? Maybe if you didn't think about what you were doing, but just did it instead?" She came closer to me and turned her back to me and then backed in until her back and butt were within range of my right hand. I reached up and touched her midway up her back. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch. I moved my hand all over her back, leaning forward and reaching up almost as high as her shoulder. I worried that she might lose her resolve and ask me to quit, or else move away from me to avoid my touch. She didn't. After a few minutes, I took a chance and ran my hand over her full buttocks and down her thigh. She had already made several involuntary sounds as my hand moved over places where her skin was sensitive to the touch. I kept moving my hand around, but now in addition to moving around on her skin, I was caressing her in places. stopping long enough to squeeze and knead her butt cheeks and her thighs. On one of these passes, I watched as she shifter her legs apart. I moved my hand in between her newly opened thighs. She was already wet when my finger first made contact with her pussy lips. She seemed to withdraw slightly from my touch, so I quickly backed away, running my hand down almost to her knee. When I started moving back up, slowly, she started a low moaning sound and by the time I was as close as three or four inches from her crotch, she bent her knees slightly, making herself come down on my hand. I played with her pussy in a tentative, exploratory way. I didn't try to penetrate her, content instead to cup her fully from behind and hold steady to let her grind against me. "Put a finger in me, Gainey, but just in a little bit, okay?" She raised up a little, and spread her legs some more as she said it. I felt around for her opening and gently eased the first digit of my index finger between her lips. I moved the finger back and forth for just a few seconds, trying to discover where her opening was. I was inexperienced, too, the only pussy I'd ever touched with anything had been hers. I didn't learn much on that other occasion, as I'd been in some kind of a sexual frenzy at the time. I felt her hand reach down and take hold of my finger. In seconds, she had it inside her tight opening. She kept her hand on my wrist after she had my finger inserted, moving her body up and down on my upthrust finger. I felt something happening with my cock as my finger pressed further up inside her opening. She was wet inside, wherever my finger touched it felt her wetness. I looked down at my lap and saw my dick unfurling as it filled up with my blood. The sight of my thickening penis surprised me enough that I must have unconsciously removed the finger that Brenda had been enjoying so much. She made an unhappy sound and turned her head to look at me. Before she spoke, her eyes looked at what I was watching. I felt the unaccustomed pressure from foreskin stretched too tight. It seemed that my dick was as hard as I ever remembered it getting when I was a teenager, but I could feel it still getting harder. It felt almost painful to me. My stump began to feel cold. I wondered if my dick was taking away the circulation from my stump. I didn't care if it was, but I wondered anyway. In the meantime, Brenda had turned around so that she was facing me. she carefully lowered herself on my lap while she swung, first one leg and then the other, up on the couch, so that she had me straddled. "When I lift up, put it in me, Gainey." She raised up then, and I felt her arms on either side of my head grasping at the top wooden rail of the couch back. I did what she told me, but I slid around at first, not finding the hole where my finger had been. Frustrated and impatient, Brenda slapped my hand away and took my dick between her fingers. I felt her pressing my dick head all around until I heard her let out a little sigh of happiness and felt her dropping down on me. She had about half of it in her, and then she kept pressing herself down, moving her hips around until our pubic bones were touching. Just as she was firmly settled with me buried inside her, my cock exploded in a violent eruption. It felt like eight or nine squirts, one right after the other. Almost before we got started, it was over. I felt myself wilting away almost instantly. I set myself for the angry tirade I just knew I could expect to get from Brenda. To me, what happened was almost like a miracle. I knew it had been over far too quickly to have done her even a speck of good. I hadn't even gotten in one full stroke. I was trying to think up some reasonable, or at least plausible, excuse when Brenda grabbed me in a bear hug around my neck and squeezed me to her. "We did it, Gainey! Did you see that? It was inside me all the way, and it didn't hurt me at all. I loved it when you put it in me. I felt you for the first time when I wanted you to do that." She was excited, definitely not angry at me. I felt relief. All I remember thinking was if she enjoyed that one, there was nowhere to go that wouldn't be an improvement. Free of her expected anger and disappointment, I was now able to appreciate and enjoy my newly found ability. I knew I would have to work on my stamina, but I had achieved a conscious erection for the first time in more than six years. That wasn't a small thing. In fact, it was a monumental milestone. I wanted to put my arms around Brenda and hug her back, but I didn't want to do anything to spoil anything for her. She had gone ahead and treated this like it was a huge success, I didn't want to do anything to change her opinion of it. "I want to put my arms around you, Brenda, but I don't want to spoil anything right now. Would it be okay?" "No, I'm getting off you now. Don't move at all, okay?" I stayed as still as I could while Brenda lifted her left leg off of me and swung out and away with it before standing up on her right knee. I watched her dismount, and took a perverse satisfaction in seeing some of my cum leaking out of her. She turned from me quickly, and hurried off to the bathroom in the hallway. At least I assumed it was the bathroom. When I heard what sounded like a shower turning on, I was fairly certain that was what it was. I got my underpants put back on and then balancing on my one good leg, I hopped across the room until I could pick up my prosthesis. I leaned against the wall with my shoulder, and fitted it and tied it back in place. I had a little trouble with my pants, but that was mostly because of how low the couch sat to the floor. When I was dressed again I walked over to the bathroom door. Inside the bathroom, I could hear Brenda crying in the shower. The running water muffled the sound somewhat, but it was clearly audible to me. "Brenda, do you want me to leave?" I spoke loudly, trying to penetrate both the door and the noise of the shower. She stopped making the crying sounds right after I called to her. There was a long silence before she answered me. "Can you just let yourself out, Gainey? I'm sorry for this, but I needed to wash up. I'll call you soon, but don't come here until I call you, okay?" "I'll do it, but please call me real soon. We need to talk about this. I'm worried about you. We can work this out. It will be better next time, I promise you. Don't be too disappointed with me. I can do better, I know. It will just take a little time, that's all." In the space of a few short minutes, I went from elated and euphoric, to discouraged and worried. On my drive home, I became angry with myself for not having performed better for her. Who knew if another good opportunity like that would ever present itself to her. I had squandered something that she had created. I felt like I had failed her again. It was only after I was back at home again, when I started to regain some perspective about the whole situation. We had taken some giant steps forward. Sure, it might have ended on a bad note, but she had been sitting in my lap with my dick up inside her. She had hugged me after I came in her. She hadn't gotten her aversion back until I had asked her for permission to hug her. As for me, I felt like just getting an erection was such an improvement that I wouldn't even get too far down on myself for my poor performance after penetration. It wasn't like I'd just wilted, which might have justified a feeling of failure. My dick had worked! It got soft after I had a great orgasm. I had shot off in her. I didn't feel like some great lover, no, far from it, but I hadn't failed either. All we had to do now was figure out a way for Brenda to feel like she hadn't failed either. Because of her, my dick had gotten hard. that was as much her success as it was mine. More, because I wasn't able to manage it for six years, and she got it done on the very first attempt. I started wishing that she would call me. Somehow I had to convince her that we were on the right track. ------- Chapter 4 I stayed away from Brenda for almost a month, honoring her request for me not to go see her. I was seeing Dr. Fleming on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but she was telling me that I should concentrate on working through my own problems. She didn't come right out and say it, but I thought, almost from the beginning, that she wanted me to stop seeing Brenda. I was in her office, telling her about how concerned I was becoming because Brenda hadn't called me. I had already explained what had gone on in Brenda's apartment. "Gainey, with the history the two of you have had together, I think continued contact will only lead to more problems. You feed each others insecurities. It would be more productive for you to attempt to come to terms with your own difficulties, rather than try to heal each other the way you envision." I had come to Dr. Fleming, primarily, to seek help for Brenda. Somehow, I had allowed myself to be sidetracked from this purpose. I realized that I had my own problems, and that I wasn't coping that well with them. Unlike Dr. Fleming, I believed that most of my problems would only be resolved when Brenda's had been resolved as well. I had tried to get Brenda to come in and talk with Dr. Fleming, but she had steadfastly refused to do so. It was a long round trip for me to be making, not to mention the expense of the sessions themselves, just so she could repeatedly tell me what I didn't want to hear, and to recommend what I wasn't going to do. "I think today is our final session Dr. Fleming. I'm not prepared to travel the path that you've recommended. I came here seeking help and advice for Brenda. I am primarily interested in addressing her problems, not mine." "That is your decision to make, of course. I feel I must tell you that my professional opinion is that you are putting your life at risk by continuing to pursue the approach you have chosen. She is very angry, and, at times, has demonstrated extreme hostility towards you. You have shown a consistent history of being willing to accept whichever hostile suggestions you are given by her. I fear that this situation will lead to a needless tragedy." After the session, I thanked her and told her that I would carefully consider her advice. I did consider it, but, even recognizing that what she told me was true, acting on her advice would be counter productive to my primary goal and purpose. Brenda had stated it clearly and simply. I had broken her, and she needed me to fix her. She wasn't open to any other options. I had briefly considered the possibility that Dr. Fleming could work with me, to make me stronger, and better adjusted, but I had a strong feeling that Brenda and I needed to forge a connection that could possibly heal the both of us. After a month, it became obvious that Brenda sure wasn't in any hurry to see me again. I wrote her a letter. Dear Brenda, I have quit seeing Dr. Fleming. Like you, I feel I am broken too. I'm not sure if I can ever be fixed, but if I can be, it will only be because you have been fixed first. You said that it was me who needed to fix you. Well, I am willing to do everything in my power to try. I have waited for you to call me, but your call never comes. I have stayed away, as you requested, but I am simply treading water, waiting for you to tell me if I should swim to you, or just go ahead and drown. Please let me hear from you. Gainey I mailed the letter that day. When I still didn't hear from her, after more than a week had gone by since mailing the letter, I called Ernie. I told him that Brenda had promised to phone me over five weeks before, but I still hadn't heard anything from her. "I guess she doesn't want to talk to you then. Can you blame her?" "No, I'm not blaming her, but I am worried about her. She said she'd call me." "That's what girls say when they're trying to get rid of a pest." I hung up the phone. Maybe Ernie was right. A case could be made that I was being a pest. I tried to think back to all of the meetings and phone calls we'd had. No, up until I sent that letter, I hadn't been a pest. I'd gone over to her apartment, uninvited, a few times, but I always left when she said for me to. She had gotten in touch with me as often as I'd gotten in touch with her. If I kept on the way I was heading though, I was moving in the direction of becoming a pest. I called Ernie back, and told him to tell Brenda that I'd leave her alone from now on. It was another week before she called me again. It was a dreary day outside. There was rain, and it was cold as well. It was a Saturday, and I was putting off doing all of the chores I kept meaning to do, but never seemed to get around to. I either had to buy some new clothes or else wash the ones I did have. My kitchen had dishes and pans stacked up on all of the counter space, and mold was growing on some of the plates I hadn't scraped that well. I was pretty sure my mother had only owned four sets of sheets for her bed. Three of them were laying in a dirty pile on the bedroom floor, and the fourth was on my bed, but needed changing pretty badly. It was after eleven in the morning, and I was laying on the couch thinking about which chore I should begin with. I was also out of food, and my last sliver of bath soap had dissolved beneath my arm pit two days before. She was drunk when she called, a little incoherent in fact. She started off by calling me a bunch of bad names. I had to ask her to repeat a few of them because I didn't understand what she meant. After five minutes, she started rambling about how I always left it up to her to call me. "Give me your phone number and I'll call you." "No. I don't want you to call me." "Didn't you get my letter?" "I didn't read it, I just threw it away." "Did Ernie tell you that I called him?" "He said you said you wouldn't bother me anymore. Is that all you called to tell him?" "The second time I called. But, that was only after he said I was being a pest by trying to get back in touch with you." "Come get me. I want to go for a ride." "I wish I could, but I've been having trouble lately keeping up with all of my chores. I need to go shopping and pick up some things before I'm able to come see you." "What kind of things?" "Cleaning supplies, groceries, stuff like that. I've been none too tidy for the past six weeks or so." "Living like a pig you mean?" "I wouldn't say that, but I am a little bit behind in taking care of some things." "You better be here in half an hour. I want to go for a ride." She hung up. I went in and took a shower, using my Head and Shoulders shampoo instead of soap. I shaved about a six day growth of hair off of my face, and wished I'd had a haircut sometime in the past few weeks. I found clean skivvies, and a fairly clean sock that I'd only worn for one day about a week or so before. Even hurrying, it was thirty minutes after she hung up that I made it out to my car. When it is wet out, my footing becomes far less certain. I almost slipped walking over to my car. I drove over to Bolling, but I took it carefully, so that took me another thirty minutes to get there. I parked, but even before I could get out of my car, Brenda came running out of her apartment and had opened the rear passenger door of my car. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt, with a warm looking boys zippered jacket. She was wearing some kind of boots too. "I waited for an hour for you. Take me to Ridgeline. I want to see my mom, and my nephews." She didn't seem as drunk looking as she had sounded on the phone. I drove her over to her mom's house. I tried several times to talk with her, but she either ignored me or told me to shut up. She was more hostile than she'd been before. I decided to say nothing more. When we got there, she told me to go home and she'd call me when she was ready to go back home. I watched her walking towards the front door and then I put my car in gear and drove back home. I stopped on the way and went shopping. I wasn't too sure about what supplies I had at home, so I got a lot of things I probably didn't need along with some stuff I knew I needed. I spent fifteen minutes hauling bags in from my car after I got back home. I brought everything into the kitchen, and put it on the table and chairs, after I'd first stacked things together to create some more room to put the bags. I decided I'd need to start my cleaning in the kitchen, but after I'd decided that, I went over and sat on my couch to rest for awhile. It was about two o'clock when I sat down, and I woke up at eight thirty, only because someone was banging on my front door. I went to the front window and looked outside. It was Brenda, and she looked soaked. Her hair was all wet and had bunched up like wet hair does. I opened up the door for her, and stepped away from the door. "I'm not coming in there. Let's go, I'm freezing." I went back and sat back down on my sofa. The door was open and she stood in my doorway looking at me. All of the warm air in the house was leaking back outside, into the cold and rainy night. "Gainey, let's go!" I ignored her. "I'm not coming in there so you can rape me again. Hurry up, I need to be at work by ten." I got up and put on my coat. I made sure to lock my door after I closed it. I walked slowly and carefully and got into my car. Brenda was already in the back seat by the time I got there. "You want to go straight to work, or do you need to go home and change first." "Home, I'm not really working tonight. I just said that so you'd get up off of that couch." I turned the ignition key to off and opened my car door. I carefully stepped back out of my car and went back inside my house. This time, I shut my door and locked it. Ten minutes passed before Brenda was banging on my door and screaming at me. I got up and opened my door. I listened to her for a few minutes, until she started repeating herself, and then I went back and sat down again. She tried yelling at me from the doorway, but after awhile she decided to come inside and to close the door. "Gainey, I really do want to go back home. I expect you to take me." "Call your Uncle Ernie, he'll take you home. I don't like being treated mean just for the hell of it. Call him, you can use my phone that's over there. Tell him I'll pay him the fifteen dollars for your fare." "I can't call him. When I left the house, he was already out drinking with Tommy. He quits driving on Saturdays at six o'clock." "Call that guy over in Holton then. Ask him how much it would cost." "I'm not calling anyone. Give me your car keys, I'll drive myself. You can get your car tomorrow if you have Ernie drive you over." "You couldn't drive my car. It has different placement for the gas and brake pedals so I can drive it with my left foot. It took me a long time to learn how to use it the right way. Maybe you should go back to your mother's house." "I don't want to go there. Take me home. You've really let this house go, Gainey. Your mom wouldn't like to see how you've let it slide. When was the last time you dusted or vacuumed in here?" She moved away from the front door and started peeking into the dining room and the kitchen. I heard her suck in her breath when she got her first peek into the kitchen. It hadn't looked quite so bad before I'd stacked things to make room for all my cleaning supplies. "What's in all those bags, not groceries?" She had moved over to the hallway, and was looking through the open doorway of my new bedroom, my old room, and the bathroom in the hallway. "You live like a pig. Your mother would never let you get away with living like this." "All right, Brenda, when you're through snooping around, I'll give you a ride home. It will be easier than answering all your questions. Just for your information, those bags have all of my new cleaning supplies. I was going to give this house a real Spic and Span cleaning, from floor to ceiling, before you called this morning, and interrupted all my plans." "You should hire somebody that knows what they're doing. Once you have it all cleaned, someone could come in once a week, for half a day, and keep it nice for you. It doesn't cost that much. I did cleaning before I went to work at the warehouse. A house this size would only cost you about ten or twelve dollars a week for someone to clean it. The first time would be about fifty dollars though." Does that include laundry too, or just the cleaning?" "Just cleaning. For laundry, you need a regular maid, and they usually charge more and come in a couple times a week." "What about cooking? How much for someone to cook and clean and do all my laundry?" "Forty dollars a week plus room and board, but you don't need a full time live in maid." "It might be worth that much if it was the right person. It would leave me a lot more time to chauffeur you around and keep up with my studies. Come on, are you ready to leave?" She stopped trying to peek into my bedroom and walked to my front door. As soon as she saw that I was standing again, she walked over and got into the back seat of the car. I got back in and started the car up again. It was starting to sleet a little bit and I started worrying about the extra weight on my windshield wipers. It was quiet on the ride back, right up until we got to her apartment complex. She surprised me then. "Come inside for a minute. There's something I want you to do for me." Before I even answered her, or told her that I would come in, she bounced out of my car, and ran to open her door. I got out and picked my way carefully to her doorway. She had the door opened for me when I got there, and she pointed for me to go sit down on her sofa again. I sat down. I sure wished she had a more comfortable sofa, one where the cushions weren't so low to the ground. Her sofa was hard for me to sit down on, and harder to get up from. I looked over at her, waiting to see what she wanted from me. I was reasonably sure it wasn't more sex. "Gainey, I want you to hire me to clean your house tomorrow. I'll do it for fifty dollars. You can come pick me up in the morning and drive me home when I'm done. I do have to work tomorrow night, but I could use some extra money for Christmas presents. Tommy went and got fired from McCutchean's again, and Linda said there isn't any spare money to buy Christmas things for her boys." "I don't want you cleaning my house, Brenda. I'll give you the money, or lend it to you if you'd rather. I told you that you can have anything of mine you want, anytime. I've really let the house go, but only because I've been in a little funk ever since that last time I was here. I guess I felt bad because you didn't call me. I'm capable of cleaning up for myself, if I feel like it." "I told you I'm not a whore, Gainey. If I work for the money, that's one thing. Fifty dollars is what I'd charge anyone else, no more or less. That's a fair deal. The rides back and forth, that's just part of your obligation to me." "Are there special rules for me? Do I have to leave the house while you clean it?" "Can't you take in a movie or something? I work better alone. I don't want you underfoot." "How much to do my laundry too? I can't work that washer and dryer right, and I've let some stuff get piled up. If you do the cleaning and the laundry, and show me how to work the washer and dryer, I'll pay you one hundred dollars. If you show me the washer and dryer secrets first, I'll leave right after, and you can have all the time alone you need, until about six o'clock so you have time to go back home and change for work. I'll drive you to work too as part of the whole deal." "A hundred is too much. I'll do it for seventy five dollars. Do you have any food in that refrigerator?" "I've got some pickle relish, and some catsup and mustard. I think there's some eggs left, but they might have hatched by now. That's about all. I don't eat at home that often, and that's usually hot dogs or canned soup. I ran out of soup, and my last two hot dogs got stuck in the ice in my freezer section. I was going to use an ice pick to get them out right before you called me." "We'll need to get some food then. Do you like spaghetti? I make a good spaghetti and meatballs. It's my mom's recipe." "Is it better than Campbell Soup's spaghetti? That's the one I'd compare it to. That's one of my favorites." "Be here early, because it's going to take me all day. Can you be here by seven?" "I'll be here." "Did you have anymore of those dreams about me?" "No. I guess they've stopped for awhile." "I had one about you and me. In my dream we did it for a long time, and I didn't mind that you were hugging me the whole time we did it. When I woke up, I felt all funny, and I had been touching myself. I've never had a dream like that before. In my dream, it was nice, and I didn't feel bad afterwards." "That sounds like a good dream. Do you think we'll ever make it come true?" "I think it was just a dream. You better go home, if you're going to come back here by seven." I drove back home carefully. With the rain and sleet, you couldn't see very far ahead. I almost ran off the road once when a big truck came barreling down the road. I thought for a minute he didn't see me. When I got home, I spent two hours trying to straighten things out a little bit. I washed and scraped the worst of the gunk off of the plates and some of the pots and pans. I almost threw all of it away, but I thought that would look too strange. After I had the worst of the scum cleaned up from the kitchen, I went into my bedroom and vacuumed the rug and dusted the furniture in there. I separated all of my laundry, and took all of my underwear into the laundry room. I managed to figure out how to turn on the washer. I put in some of my newly purchased laundry powder and started it up on the highest setting. When it didn't overflow with soapsuds, I left it to do its job, and went to bed. I set the alarm for five thirty, knowing that I wanted to put my underwear in the dryer and all the sheets in the wash machine before heading over to pick up Brenda. I managed to get everything done, and was parked in front of Brenda's apartment by six forty five the following morning. I waited until seven, and when Brenda still hadn't come out, I went and knocked on her door. She came to her door, but didn't open it. "I'm sorry, Gainey, but I don't think I can handle this today. I thought I could, and that's why I didn't call you." "Do you want to do something else instead? How about if we go shopping, and you make me some spaghetti? I've been wondering if yours is really better than Campbell's." "No, I'm just going to stay in today." "You were right about me living like a pig, Brenda. Do you know anybody else that might help me get it cleaned up in there? You think Linda might want to do it to earn some extra money?" "Tommy's Linda? She doesn't even clean their house. My mother does all the cleaning. If it was up to her, that house would look like yours by now. Besides, if Tommy found out about it, you'd be right back in the hospital." "Why did he get fired?" "Same old thing. He got drunk after work and told a few of the bosses what he thought of them. They'll take him back in a couple of months like they always do. He's one of their best mechanics. He just has a mean mouth when he's drunk." "I don't mind that much about the house, but I feel bad about you not having the money to make a good Christmas for your nephews. Would it be easier if you knew I wasn't going to be there at all? I'd pay Ernie to give you a ride home if that makes it easier for you." "I just can't make myself leave the apartment right now. I get like this sometimes, but it goes away. I guess it was too stressful thinking about being alone in that house with you. I'm sure I'll be fine by tonight. I'm sorry I made you drive all the way over here for nothing." "That's okay. You take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything, or if you just want to talk. One more thing, just because I think you better know it, I think I'm in love with you." I turned to leave, and had walked almost all the way to my car when I heard her door open behind me. I turned and looked at her. She looked upset rather than mad. I think that she had been caught off guard by me declaring my love for her. I didn't have the right to say that to her, not with our past history, but I wanted her to know there was something more than plain guilt that was at work in the mix that I had brewing. I had started thinking about it, and wondering ever since I stopped my appointments with Dr. Fleming. I really did feel the guilt and the desire to make things right with her, but somehow, in the middle of all of that, I had started developing some normal feelings for her too. I turned back and went around to my car door. I was pulling my leg inside when I saw Brenda with a jacket in hand, running to my car. She had jumped in the back before I had myself turned facing the front and ready to close my door. "I decided that I really need that money too much to sit at home today. It wasn't because of that other thing you said, which I don't believe anyway. It was thinking about Tommy's kids, and their Christmas this year, and knowing that the extra money would help them. I still don't want you around the house while I'm cleaning it." "What about the spaghetti? If you give me a list of what you need, I'll run to the market and get it for you, you can look over my cleaning stuff and see if you need anything else while I'm gone. When I get back with the spaghetti ingredients, you can give me a list of any other cleaning supplies you need." "I don't know what I'll need for my spaghetti until after I check on what you already have. You must have more than you said before. Spices and seasonings, canned tomatoes and tomato paste." "I had some cans of stewed tomatoes, but I already ate them. I think there was tomato paste too, but I ran out of peanut butter, and needed something to spread on my bread." "Tomato paste and bread?" "I heated it up first. It was actually pretty good. I'm glad you reminded me, I'll pick up some extra cans. One little can can make about fifteen sandwiches, and that stuff keeps in the refrigerator for a long time. I bet it would be even better with Italian bread." How about we stop off at the market and I'll pick up what we need? Do you at least have Parmesan cheese?" "I think I have some garlic powder, will that do?" "Garlic powder instead of Parmesan cheese? Gainey, didn't your mother teach you anything?" "I've cooked for myself lots of times. I'm just better with simple meals, nothing as elaborate as spaghetti. Sometimes, my soups taste just like my mother used to make." "She made canned soup too?" "That's right, and we both followed the same directions on the side of the can. The only difference is that I add the salt and pepper before I warm it up. That way, when I'm stirring it, it gets mixed in more evenly. I learned that on my own too." "Why did you say that to me, back at the apartment before?" "About loving you?" "Yes." "I'm not sure. I didn't mean to say it like that, you know when you were hiding behind a door. I guess I didn't want you thinking I'm hanging around you just because I want you to punish me. I do want that, but there's more too. I guess I'm hoping that when you get all finished with that, we can see if we want to do more stuff together." "Like start dating again? That isn't likely to happen. If ever someone blew a date, Gainey, that someone is you." "I know that. That's almost like I think of it too. Not a blown date, but an opportunity that I messed up so totally and completely that I can't even understand how I could have done it. We were getting along so well before that night." "That isn't how it was, Gainey. We both said we thought each date was going to be our last one. I don't want to think about that night right now. Let's stop talking. Give me some money for the spaghetti, and the other things." I gave her a twenty dollar bill, passing it behind me without taking my eyes off of the road. I felt her hand touching mine just before she took the bill out of my hands. She hadn't needed to touch me. She did it because she wanted to. When I parked at the market, she told me to stay in my car. She got out and was gone for about fifteen minutes. I saw her come out with a bag in each arm, so I got out of the car and opened the back seat door for her. I moved quickly away before she got too close to me. I was back in the front seat pretty fast, but by then, she had the groceries on the floor, and she was sitting there, her arms folded, and her door shut. "Did you have enough money for everything?" "I've got a lot of change. Spaghetti isn't usually this expensive, but I had to buy all of the ingredients because I'm not sure if you have any of the spices at home. I got a nice bottle of wine too. I can't drink any because I have to work. I've already been warned about coming to work when I've been drinking. I sure can't afford to lose my job now." "I was thinking about what you said before, about how we both thought each date was going to be our last one? You might have felt that way, but I always hoped you'd keep saying yes when I asked you. I was afraid you didn't like me that much, but I knew I liked you a lot." "I liked you too, but you never said anything to make me think you liked me. Today was the first time you ever mentioned anything about either liking me or loving me. Said it directly I mean." We were quiet after that until we got to my house. I told her to take one bag in and I'd get the other one after she left. I told her to go inside, because I'd left the front door unlocked. I followed after her, but she was already inside before I shut the car's back door. There were a hundred thoughts running through my head. Half of these thoughts were cautions that I was giving myself to not try to pressure her, to give her some space to get her work done. The other half were thoughts about how I could try to see if she liked me at all. When I came in the house, Brenda was frowning at me. She had already looked in the kitchen, and could tell that I'd done a little work in there. I set the groceries on the kitchen table and stepped back. "Listen, I know you said you'd like me to go somewhere, but we could probably get more stuff done if you used me like an assistant. If you pretended I was stupid, and had never helped clean a house before, you would probably not be too far off the mark, and you could use me to move stuff out of your way so you could clean up faster. I promise not to try to talk to you or bother you in any way." "What about your leg? What kind of stuff can't you do?" "I can do most things. Some things take me longer than other people, because I need to think about how I can get them done. If you give me general instructions, like bring clothes to the laundry room, I can do that. I can run a vacuum cleaner, and dust. I can do dishes, although I don't do it very often. I can fold clean clothes and put them in the right drawers. I already know where most things go." "Does this help come out of my money, or is it free?" "Absolutely free. I'll be learning while I watch. When you leave today, I'll probably be a journeyman maid." "You'll probably be passed out from a little bit of work, and try to get out of driving me home." "If I get too tired, I'll stop and take a nap. I promise I'll drive you home in time for work. speaking of work, won't you be too tired to work tonight?" "I sit down and read orders for tires to be delivered. Not exactly hard labor. I usually just have to worry about being bored at work. I'll let you help. If you get in my way too much, I'll shoo you out of the house. When I clean, I like to work fast. Do you know how to separate laundry?" I nodded to her that I did. "Do it in three piles the, Whites, colored clothes and delicate." "Maybe I don't then. What's delicate?" "You probably don't have any delicate. Don't put any dry cleaning stuff in with your laundry." "I don't have any dry cleaning stuff. I have a suit, but I never wear it. I'm not sure if it still fits. I wore it to graduation, and that was the last time." "Good. Whites and colored then. Bring it to the laundry room. Do you have detergent?" I nodded that I did. I went in and took my clean sheets out of the washer and into the dryer. I was feeling more confident about this whole laundry thing. I took all of my newly cleaned and dried underwear into my bedroom and stuffed it into my top dresser drawer. I knew how to fold it from the army, but I never bothered with it. It only took me about fifteen minutes to bring my sorted laundry to the laundry room. It consisted of almost everything I owned except my old uniforms and that one suit. In the time I'd been gone, Brenda had somehow performed a cleaning miracle on all those dishes and pots and pans. They were done, and she had only a stack of plates that she wanted me to lift and put away for her. She told me that she was pleasantly surprised at how clean I'd kept my oven. I didn't tell her that I'd never even opened it up to look inside it. Brenda went over and resorted my laundry. Apparently, color doesn't mean the same thing I thought it did. When she got done, there were six different piles instead of two. I was going to ask her about that, but I was still basking in the compliment she gave me on my oven. She had me dust first in the living room and then vacuum. While I tended to that, she began preparing the meatballs. I finished with the dusting and the vacuuming in almost no time at all, before asking her what she wanted next. She came out into the living room, ran her fingers over things for a few seconds and then made a clucking sound before sending me into the kitchen to look for something called furniture polish or Pledge. I found a bottle of furniture polish right away, but none of that Pledge. Brenda found some in the closet where my mother kept her dust cloths and the vacuum. Brenda told me to put the bottle of furniture polish back. I read the bottle more carefully before I put it back, and it was a floor polish. I had finished reading all of the uses for that floor polish when Brenda brought a huge stack of unopened mail over to the kitchen table. She told me to sort it and throw out whatever I didn't want or need. Most of the mail was addressed to my mother, and a lot of it was just advertisements. I hadn't opened anything addressed to my mother, except for the utility bills, which I sent to Mr. Chalmers office for him to look over and pay for me. Four of the letters to my mother were from the same person. I didn't recognize his name as either a friend of my mother or of my dad's from before he died. I opened the oldest one, from about six months after my mom had died. He was some kind of builder who wanted my mom to call him regarding selling one of my grandfather's land parcels. I set those four letters aside, but they were the only keepers in the whole stack of stuff that Brenda had picked up from off my living room floor. I always put the mail on my coffee table, but then I'd need a clean place for the soup pan or my drink, and I guess it got pushed off onto the floor. I got an old grocery bag and put all of the throw away junk in it and took it outside to my trash can. When I got back, Brenda had another huge stack of old magazines that she had collected. My mother liked to read craft magazines. She never made any of the stuff, she just thought it was interesting to see how people made things. She was the same way about sewing and knitting magazines. I gathered them all up as well and took them out to the trash. They came by to pick up our trash on Mondays, but I usually only had a full can about once a month. That was usually food wrappers and empty soup cans. I could see I was going to have a busier schedule for the trash collectors just from what Brenda had already accomplished. I went into the living room and found Brenda was vacuuming again. The wood on the TV and the coffee table was all oily and shiny now. I had to admit it looked better that way. I went off into my old bedroom to see what might be needed there. I stripped my old sheets off of that bed and picked up the other two sets that I'd left on the floor near the door. I found some other nearly clean clothes on the floor, but I decided to run them through the wash too and then put them away. When I came out to the living room with the new laundry pile, I noticed Brenda reading my mom's letter from that builder guy. She looked embarrassed that I'd caught her reading the mail. "I just wondered why you only opened the one letter from him." "I have a lawyer that handles that stuff for me. He pays the bills and does all the taxes and stuff." "Do you know what this parcel is that he wrote about?" "No, but Mr. Chalmers will know about it. He was my father's best friend before he died. He's almost like my uncle." "Can I open these other three, just to see what the man says?" "Sure. Are you interested in land?" "Not really. Just curious. You really don't know anything about a property that you own? Is this the only one?" "No, there are a bunch I think. My grandfather Gainey, he owned them. When he died, my mother inherited it all. Mr. Chalmers takes care of all of that for me." "Was that his first name or his last name, Gainey?" "Last name. He only had one child, my mom, and that's why she named me Gainey as a first name." "Well it's none of my business, but you should pay more attention to things that you own. Nobody looks after things as well as the person who owns it would." "I guess it is your business in a way. If something happens to me, you get it all." "Me? How would I get it?" "In my will. If I die, you inherit all I have. I set it up like that before, right after I got back home." "I don't believe you. Why would you do that?" I went and got my spare copy of the will and handed it to her. It was only two pages long, and there was only one beneficiary, her. "Its all legal and it has been recorded at the courthouse. If something happens to me, I want you to get the house, the money and that other stuff. I don't have anybody else I'd want to leave it to." "I don't want it! How could you do something like this without my consent? Its almost like you raping me all over again." "That's just crazy, Brenda. No one could see things that way. Rape is taking something from someone. This isn't like that at all. I don't care what you do with it. You can give it to Tommy for all I care. It isn't important. My mother left it to me because she had no one else to leave it to. I'm leaving it to you because I love you, and I want you to have it." "If I asked you to not leave it to me, would you do that?" "Only if you tell me who you would want me to leave it to." "I don't care. Leave it to the Red Cross." "All right. I'll call Mr. Chalmers in the morning. Are you satisfied now?" "Yes. Thank you. Can I keep this copy, or do you need it? I'd like to save it, like a keepsake. I'll keep it next to that letter you wrote me." "You can have it. When I make my new will though, it won't be legal anymore. That's a lot of money, with the savings, house and that land. Are you sure you don't want to think about it before you rush to a decision?" "No, I don't want it. I just want to remember that you wanted to do it though. How come you never said anything before? Did you do this before you bought that gun?" "Well, I didn't say anything because I didn't think about it that much. I did it before I bought the gun, but after I talked to you that first time. I'll do what you asked, about the Red Cross, but I want you to know that it isn't what I want to do." Brenda was clutching the copy of the will in her left hand, and those three unopened letters in her right. I saw her looking at the letters again. "Go ahead and open them if you want to. Maybe he makes an offer for the land. You can call him and tell him you represent the owner of the land. Find out what he wants to do with it." "I'm almost afraid to open it now. Suppose he offers you a million dollars for the land? I would hate to think I just gave away so much money." "I think Mr. Chalmers would have told me if any of those parcels were worth that kind of money. My grandfather didn't live like he was rich. His house wasn't as nice as this one is." Brenda wasn't paying attention to me. She was busy opening up those three unread letters. I stood and watched her reading them. Her brow was furrowed in intense concentration. When she had read all three of them, she reached down and picked up the letter that I'd first opened. "He says almost the same thing in all of them. He wants your mother to contact him. He never says that he wants to buy the land, just that he wants to discuss it." "You can call him if you want to, Brenda. Feel him out about how much he wants to pay. If you don't want to, then I'll give the letters to Mr. Chalmers to handle." "I don't know anything about real estate." "I know as much about real estate as I do about house work. Maybe a little bit less." "I need to start on my sauce for that spaghetti. Are you sure its okay to keep this copy of your will?" "Absolutely sure. Do you want me to go somewhere so you can work in peace, or do you want me to stay here and watch you work?" "Were you really going to kill yourself before, Gainey?" "I expected to, but it probably isn't as easy as most people would think. I've seen some brave men who really wanted to, but the will to survive is sometimes too strong. I never felt like I couldn't do it, but you just can't tell until you either do it or you don't." "If you had done it, I would have inherited all of that?" "Yes." "You were going to really try to kill yourself because I told you to?" "Not just because of that, but that was most of it. Part of it is how I've felt about things since that night I raped you. Part of it was how my mother felt, and how guilty I felt about putting you and her though all that. Then, there was the leg, and not being any good for sex, and things I saw and lived through. It all adds up, until, after awhile, you can picture yourself doing it." "I've thought about it too. I think I'm one of those people who have too strong of a will to live though. I hide, but I've never come close to trying to kill myself." "I'm glad you haven't. If you ever did though, I wouldn't be far behind you. I'd know exactly what made you want to do it." "Do you ever just get horny, Gainey, for no reason?" "No, I used to though, all the time. Once I was in church, we were all standing and singing some hymn, and I just started getting all horny and thinking about girls and stuff. In church!" "I just got horny right now. I hope it wasn't because we were talking about killing ourselves." "Probably not. It just sneaks up on people some time. I wish it would come back and sneak up on me." "Do you want to go in your bedroom and take your leg off again? One of the things I was thinking after that time was how everything was good as long as I was the one in control. It was only after you told me you wanted to hug me that I started to get panicked and needing to shower to get your touch off of me." "We could try it, but I don't know if anything will work again. It might have been just a special combination that made me get hard. Don't be disappointed if it doesn't happen again for me." I went into my bedroom and got undressed and lay back on the bare mattress. I had taken off my prosthesis and set it on the wall by the bathroom, out of my reach. I was looking at my dick, and it didn't look very promising. I was mentally turned on though, and that was a distinct part of sexual excitement. I wanted this to work. I wanted it a lot. I had been on the mattress waiting for about ten minutes when Brenda walked into my bedroom. She had taken all of her clothes off before coming in. I saw her look over at my prosthesis before coming into the room. She had a small smile on her face. She came to me right away, no talking or asking me if I wanted to touch her. She straddled me and then started crawling up my leg. She dropped her body down until her pussy was touching my knee. I could feel right away that she was already very wet. She started rubbing her pussy on my knee cap. "Put your hands behind your head, Gainey. Do it with your fingers interlaced like prisoners of war do. Leave them just like that until I tell you that you can move them. It makes me feel safe to have you just like that. Can you feel how ready I am? I've been like this almost since we started talking about the will and those letters. I don't usually get like this, Gainey, and when I do, I'm always alone. Why do you have this power over me? Of all the men I would think would be able to get me hot, you wouldn't even be on that list. It happens almost every time I'm close to you for any period of time. My pussy is aching for your fingers to touch it, but I'm not going to let you this time. I don't want fingers. I want your cock. "You're the only one who I've ever said that to, Gainey. Did you know that I was thinking about your cock the first time I played with my pussy? I was thirteen years old and I had been watching you walking around on the sidelines of a football game that Tommy was playing in. You were on the second string or something, and you didn't play until the very end of the game. I watched you in those tight pants the team all wore. I watched you the whole game, and that night, I started thinking about you. I remember how hot I felt when I started imagining you like this, with no clothes on. I'd seen Tommy's dick before, when I was younger, but I imagined yours was better. When I touched my pussy that first time, it was your dick I was thinking about and your finger that I was pretending was touching me. If you had been in my room that night, I would have let you fuck me. I swear I would have. I was only thirteen, and you were the first boy I'd ever thought about doing that with. "When you asked me out that first time, when I hung up the telephone, I went to my bedroom and cried. That's how happy I was just to know I had a date with you. It was like a dream had come true for me. A dream I'd waited three years for. All you would have had to do, on any of those dates, was ask me, and I'd have said yes. I never would have turned you down if you had asked me, or even if you started things off and went through the normal procedures. From that first time I saw you when I was thirteen, I was yours. You hurt me, and you stole what, in my heart, was yours already. You stole what I would have gladly given to you. "You can feel how wet I am, how much I'm needing to make love to you. Let me give myself to you, Gainey. We can pretend it is the first time for both of us. This is what I've wanted ever since that terrible night, to take it back and start out the way it should have always been." As Brenda was saying all of this to me, I didn't know what to think. I'd never known about her having such a long term crush on me. I did know one thing though. That night up at Kraemer Junction, she'd fought me with every ounce of strength she had. I tried to remember what she had been screaming at me, but all I could remember was her crying and yelling for me to stop. I had been crazy, mad with a lust I'd never felt before. She had my cock in her hand, and she was inching up towards it. It felt hard, and I knew that she had once again worked her magic on me. She moved me around her pussy and calmly inserted it up inside herself. This time, I wasn't even close to cumming. I was laying there, allowing her to be in total control. As soon as she had my dick buried in her fully, she started lifting up and falling back down on it. Both of her hands were pressed against my chest and she was using them as shock absorbers, first to cushion her descent, and later, to brace her ascent. I watched her face the whole time. I couldn't tell you exactly the time when I knew that this was the connection we had both been seeking. I can tell you the exact second when it occurred though. Brenda was having her fourth or fifth orgasm. Her face was all contorted and red, both from her effort, and from the deep well of emotion she was experiencing. I felt her pussy tightening up and the shivers as a spasm overtook her. We had been making love for at least forty minutes. My erection stayed constant, but I didn't feel even the approach of my being able to cum. Suddenly, she just collapsed on my chest, shuddered a couple of times, and was completely quiet and relaxed. I didn't know what had happened, but I wasn't going to move, not until she told me to. By this time, the muscles in both my arms were straining from holding them like that. My interlaced fingers felt like they'd soon be cramping too. "Hold me Gainey." I started crying then. I had the devil of a time unlacing my fingers, but when I finally managed it, I put both my arms around her and hugged her with six years of pent up sorrow and regret. This was what it should have been. I released my seed into her then too, not in anger, no longer in shame, but with the hope of a future where both of us could enjoy more moments such as this one. We stayed just like that for a long long time. I was at peace, and I felt her being relaxed and comfortable with my arms around her. It was this connection that I spoke of. The two of us resting together and at peace. It wasn't over, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it was our new beginning. I was crying because this was far more than I deserved. Deserve it or not, I wasn't about to refuse to take it. I had so many regrets, big ones. The rape itself being the biggest, but followed closely by my running away and by never having given my mother any inkling that I was coming home someday to try to fix as much of the mess as I could. It was over a year after this momentous day before I could manage to talk Brenda into moving back to Ridgeline, and into our house. Three months later we were married, and it was only that soon because Brenda didn't want to start our first son's life out while she was still an unmarried woman. I had to walk the gauntlet of all of the Sinclair's too, but not really any more than Brenda did. Tommy never will bring himself to forgive me, and I can't really blame him. Uncle Ernie is really the only one in Brenda's family that seems to approve of me, but I have no idea of the reason why he does. I take that back, Kevin and Dusty, Brenda's two nephews approve of me completely. I think that had more to do with the gifts that Brenda and I always showered on them for their birthdays and at Christmas time, than on any innate charm that I might possess. Brenda still isn't comfortable being around a lot of people, and she does tend to be a little standoffish with strangers still. She gave up her drinking during that first pregnancy, but sometimes, she still likes to hide behind closed doors. I can't believe how different my life turned out from what I had expected when I first came back to Ridgeline. I'm pretty sure some of you will scratch your heads and wonder why I didn't make this story end in a different way, or why I didn't make this or that seem more important in my story. The answer is pretty simple, I promised Brenda that I'd tell the truth and not make any attempt to pretty it up. It wasn't pretty, and it was a tragedy that somehow turned out to be a little less than one. She wants our three sons to read this before they ever start dating. She asked me to write it and I had to do it. I promised her many times that I'd always do whatever she wanted me to. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2006-05-21 Last Modified: 2006-05-24 / 01:04:27 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------