California

Part Two - You look like you've seen some better days

It was a Tuesday when Jenny came home crying. I was off early from the library because of an anthrax scare (my co-workers didn't believe it wasn't me, but thankfully my boss blamed Tariq, a foreign exchange student from the Middle East instead).

I was sittin thn the couch, watching a re-run of Who's The Boss when she came in.

"Faith, what are you doing here?"

"No Jenny, I think the real question is what is up with you? Why are you crying all of the sudden when you were happy this morning?"

She sighed and walked upstairs to her bedroom.

"Hey Jenny, I got off work early today, don't think I'm skipping out on you, making you look bad."

Girl wouldn't answer back to me, and when I went upstairs, her door was loc I d I didn't pry until later that night when it was time for supper. She still wasn't any better and I still was curious as hell to what was the matter.

The steak was too done for my tastes, but compared to the gristle filled shit they'd serve us at the pen, I was in heaven. Jenny had hardly touched her food, which was odd, since her maid had cooked her favorite meal.

"Faith..." she started out, eyes getting red again.

"Yeah Jenny, what is it?"

She sighed again and shook her head. "I'm not sure I should tell anybody about this, I mean, I just don't..."

"Trust me?"

Jenny shook her head again. "No Faith, no, not at all. I trust you will keep your promise to me, I really do."

Jenny got up from the table and started to wbackback upstairs.

"Okay then Jen, if you really do trust me, why won't you tell me what's gone wrong?"

Jenny walked bacwn twn the steps and sat beside me and started to speak, but stopped again mid sentence. "It was Jack. I mean, it is Jack."

Is that name supposed to mean something to me?

"Who is this Jack person and what did he do to you?" Myer wer was visible to all those around me, I could just imagine some scum bucket frat boy kidnapping Jenny and having his way with her. I could also imagine my boot kicking the little asshole right in the balls, then after he was down, kicking him in the mouth. I'd laugh in his ugly face as he was spitting blood and teeth on the ground. Then I'd pull out my knife to rip open his scrotum, taking out his nuts and playing volleyball with them...

"Faith, now you have to promise me something right now."

"Okay J, whatever you say."

"Huh, Faith please take this seriously. Look now, you made a solemn commitment to me, to the state and before God Almighty. Maybe none of that means anything to you, but to me it means EVERYTHING. You have to promise not to act on this no matter how much you're tempted."

I gave a half-assed promised, shocked that Jenny actually fell for it.

"My college career might soon be coming to an end."

"Uh oh, Jenny, did you get caught cheating?" I patted her on the back. "Want, take, have." I chuckled.

"Faith, please you should know me by now. It's not like that at all, I wish it was like that, actually."

Long, boring tirade from Jenny ahead...

"I thought I had the coolest teacher ever. He wmartmart, witty, funny and had a real passion for social science and social justice. Not to mention he had a dedication to Christ; the type I'd never seen. I thought, if anybody is nearly perfect at this school, it was him. Even though he's almost fifty now and married, I could see myself marrying this guy. I know that sounds stupid. But now he's made an ultimatum that I can't ignore, and I just don't know..."

Jenny didn't have to say any more, I knew right away what the game was.

"Couldn't you just take this course with another teacher next year?"

"No, Faith, you didn't hear it yet. It isn't sleep with him or I fail the class, it's sleep with him or he reports me to the college on a plagiarism rap. He told me if I even told anybody else, he'd still turn me in."

My face turned a deep, dark red, my fists clenched so hard my body ached.

"Faith, no, calm down. You can't let anybody know about this, and please, if you love me, don't act on it."

I sat down on the sofa with Jenny next to me.

"Violence never solved anything, Faith, okay? I think you should know that he's already touched me, so I know he isn't joking around. Don't say a word, and for the love of God, don't act on this, or he will get you in the end, he has the power."

"He didn't fuck you, did he?"

Jenny shook her head no.

"Some piece of shit gropes you and tells you if you don't fuck him he'll get you kicked out, and you're telling me to calm down? Jenny, open your fucking eyes, you're not alone on this, he's probably done this to every girl who has ever given him a hard-on."

"No, no, I know that can't be. Jack would never do that. He's a good man. It must have been something I did. My shirt was too tight, my dress was too short. Something... He wouldn't just grab my breast and say this for no reason."

Looking at her outfit today, you might think her body was smooth and flat...

"Jenny, you can't be serious. We're talking about a sick fuck here..."

"Faith, watch your mouth! Don't talk about him that way! You don't know him like I do."

"Fuck him, Jenny, you can't seriously be defending this fucking asshole, no how, no fucking way!"

Jenny started to cry again, "Look, Faith, just let me handle this on my own." She went upstairs and locked the door to the bathroom. The shower came on but I could still hear her tears over the water.

One thing about Jenny, she's very trusting and always leaves her bedroom door open. I frantically searched through her papers from school, trying to find the name and number of Jack Asshole. I heard the water go off and my heart sank. She'd walk in here in just a few moments. Finally, it caught my eye. "Anthropology 101 with Jack Golden." Nice name for such a fucking cocksucker I thought. I quickly jotted down his name and put her satchel where I found it.

She came in the room in her bathrobe damn it, wondering what I was doing here.

"Oh sorry Jen, didn't think you'd mind me coming into get that John Coltrane CD you got yesterday."

"Not at all Faith, just put it back when you're done with it."

She eyes me suspiciously as I walk away. That pose that suggests you're about to say something, but you never really do.

While Coltrane played loudly in the background, I thought up my smirking revenge on Mr. Dickhole.

*****

"Hello, this is Williams Memorial Library, I'm looking for a Mr. Golden, Jack Golden? Is he in? Yes, tell him that his copies of "The Anarchist Cookbook" and "Guerilla Warfare in The Streets" are two weeks overdue." Naw, that isn't embarrassing enough.

I'm hoping to get his wife at home, I can always make shit up. If she's anything like him, the idea that her husband might have checked out The Story of O, or Tropic of Cancer will probably fill her head with the images of her husband jacking off in the bathroom to stories of promiscuity and sadomasochism. Later she'll attack him with mace or some other weapon as he walks through the door, with the Bible tucked under one arm and the NOW handbook under the other.

I pick up the phone, hoping to catch him at the office, but all that greets my ears is a rather lame answering machine message, that not only includes his home number (which, in a rush, I transposed the last two digits of from the syllabus) and a calendar of upcoming events. I debate rather to wait until tomorrow, or put a threatening message, but I change my mind and go for home.

"You sick fucking piece of shit, I know what you did. Don't think yet aet away with this, you fucking asshole. Believe me when I say I know who you are and I know where you fucking work!" Hmmmm, no, maybe not. "Listen you bastard, unless you want your career ruined, you better stop this fucking shit. I'm not the kind of bitch you want to fuck over." No... again.

Dialing the number, with the *67 code to protect Jenny's number, I'm frantic, wondering if I can do this. The same annoying male voice answers the phone (how can Jenny stand to listen to this stupid asshole?). "Listen you asshole, you think you can dick me over, but you're the one who will pay in the end." Yes, perfect.

"Hello? Hello?" I go silent, "I think you have the wrong number," the cocky stride in his voice has lessened and he's beginning to sound scared. I can almost see his smile disappear and face turn a few shades paler, or maybe redder, depending on his emotions. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, dick, I know what you did." With that, I hang up the phone.

I think I've done enough shit for one day, what's next, who knows. But one thing is for sure, I am no doubt going to pull the library trick, but later, haha, much later.

From the sounds coming from Jenny's room, she's listening to old Hank Williams and Patsy Cline records, and oddly enough, The Rolling Stones' Wild Horses. I have a temptation, half from my heart, half from my clit, to go in there and really make love to her good and proper, but considering what she's gone through, I think better.

Through the week, my dreams are a mishmash of half remembered memories of childhood and other moments I'd rather forget. Never really remembering them, they're easy to shrug off by morning. Each day I've made different calls, to the office, to his house, from Jenny's place, from the library (but never to his wife, I always hang up when she answers).

I stay as neutral as I can, trying not to let on about what I'm doing, and mostly ignoring Jenny. My fear is always that she'll tell me Jack told her wh've've been doing. Why she'd have anything to do with him is still beyond me, but knowing what I know about Jenny, she's probably still volunteering for helping him with after school shit. For all I know he's already taken her three ways to Sunday while the two of them brainstorm some lame charity event.

"Oh, hi sirs, is this the office of Jack Golden?" I say, trying on my best southern accent, trying to be sweet and innocent, just the way Jack likes them. I thought saying "sirs" instead of "sir" was a nice touch.

"Why yes it is, how may I help a fine young lady like yourself?" The cocky, arrogant stride he must use on his students is in full evidence.

"By getting killed, you little prick. You fucking think you can dick me over, but you'll learn, asshole."

He sighs and the dread is back in his voice. "Why won't you stop calling me? I've not done anything to you."

I stay silent for a few moments, his frantic "Hello?" "Hello?" drones on, but I hang up. I can imagine his heart exploding as the line goes dead, probably slumping in his chair, with a defeated slump in his posture. Any hard-on he may have gotten from the prospect of a new score has been dashed to bits. Hell, he'll probably be too scared to get a hard-on for a week.

It is the next day I decide to make my strike. I've gotten a good look at Jack's schedule, and he's working late on Thursday. He has a 6pm class that lasts until 9.

In the afternoon at work, I call his house, hoping to get his wife, and just my luck. "Hello, is this the Golden residence?"

"Yes."

"Is Jack there? This is the Williams Memorial Library in regards to a couple of books that are overdue."

"Okay, could you please tell me their titles so I can remind Jack?"

My eyes flame with passion as I begin my spiel.

"Yes, Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller, Under the Roofs of Paris, also by Henry Miller, The Story of O by Pauline Reage and Total Abuse by Peter Sotos. The first three are a week overdue, and the Sotos book is only two days over due. But psychology major at the local college really needs it. Quite frankly I'm tired of getting two or three calls a day from him."

His wife goes silent for a moment, I think I see why she and Jack are still married.

"Hello, are you still there?"

"Yes, I am..." she pauses, carefully choosing her words. "Is your boss there?"

"Why yes he is, want me to get him?" I grab a co-worker, whom I've let in on the joke, promising him a handjob if he goes along with me.

"Yes ma'am, can I help you?"

"Who are you? Are you really from the William's Memorial Library, and what is this about my husband checking out sexist books?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but our records show that somebody has checked out a few books with your husband's library card and never returned them. Has he lost it recently?"

I'm cracking up as the conversation continues on for another five minutes, I can see his bitch ass feminist wife now, throwing herself around the apartment, cutting herself with glass, grieving about what an asshole she's devoted her life to. Her voice is getting louder and shriller. For a second I almost feel sorry for her.

The disgust of jerking Brad off in the bathroom is worth the joy I've received from ruining her day, and later tonight, tha her her husband. He's been after me since he came to this shit job, that going out with him would be doing myself some great favor, how he's the greatest man and lover to ever walk the face of the earth. Funny enough, he can't maintain an erection for barely five seconds at a time, even with me pumping away on him. He spurts on the bathroom stall door, barely missing my face and hair, with a seemingly weak orgasm from the noise he makes, not to mention in a barely erect state. But he does compliment me on my good taste in men. Ewwwww.

I got to rest myself for tonight, and with Jenny getting ready for some big meeting she's hosting at her church, I'm taking time to relax in my room. The excitement of the anticipation of teaching Jack a lesson weighs heavily on my mind, but alas, the long day's work has finally allowed me to fall into a deep sleep.