“No wonder Mr. Dickleburg’s pissed,” I said to Oppenheimer after we galloped into town, “you didn’t give his man a fair trial!”
“That’s the thing about this timeline,” he replied, “they have no concept of judge and jury. Yet we still come to the same conclusions without them. It’s the damndest thing.”
Sheriff J. Robert Oppenheimer was about to hang one of Dickleburg’s company men on the streets of Elkhorn when word got to him that Dickleburg was riding into town with some hired guns. Oppenheimer and myself, along with Mr. Ree, we’re standing around in the sheriff’s office with the prisoner, Billy Friedkin, behind bars.
“You boys don’t know what’s comin,” Billy said, taunting us.
“I say we hang the son of a bitch right now and send a message,” Mr. Ree opined.
“We can’t do that,” Oppenheimer said, “Mr. Dickleburg will burn this town down.”
“Then why did you arrest Billy Friedkin to begin with?” I asked.
“Because,” Oppenheimer paused, “Mr. Friedkin shot and killed several of Mr. Rockwell’s cattle. The law plainly states that’s an offense punishable by death.”
“Then wouldn’t the government have your back?”
“No,” he replied, “Mr. Dickleburg owns the Montana government. But I had to arrest and hang Billy or else the townspeople would have hung me. You see, I’m between a rock and a hard place.”
Billy began guffawing in his cell. “Shut up,” I ordered, “I could kill you now and get away with it.”
“Relax gentlemen,” Oppenheimer said, “we need to think. Other than the time in that dormant volcano in Hawaii, have you ever been in a gun fight?”
I chuckled in response. “Bob, seriously?” I asked, “I saved Mexico City from a nuclear attack and massacred the entire West Coast mafia up in Big Bear. The FBI was pissed. So I think I know my way around a fire fight.”
“Good,” he said, “because Dickleburg and his merry men will be here in a matter of minutes. We need to set up a defensive parameter. It’s only going to be the three of us.”
I looked over to Mr. Ree. “I think I’m gonna need that opium pipe now,” I said.
Mr. Ree shook his head and dug out the pipe from his satchel. “I don’t think I’ve ever killed a man sober,” I said to him as I took it from his hand.
“Hopefully it will improve your aim,” he added.
“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, “I’ve got this shotgun. Are you any good with that Winchester rifle?”
Mr. Ree held up the weapon and smiled. “I’m no Lee Harvey Oswald,” he replied, “but I think I can handle myself.”
I have finished 0 stories this year and at this rate I will finish 0 more. As you are all aware, I’m in the middle of a career change which might require me to return to clown college to finish my clown degree sooner than I expected. So enjoy this story from last year.
What I’ll say about this one is that I made some decisions. I wasn’t happy with it initially but upon revisiting it I think it holds up decently well.
Meet William Shits
William Shitz woke up the same time every morning: 4:30AM.
He’d look in the mirror, trim his mustache, and evacuate his bowels. He’d always use two squares of toilet paper. No more, no less.
His bowel movement was a little more painful than usual this particular morning. But he thought nothing of it. After wiping his ass, William departed to his study to read the morning newspaper.
“Can you believe this Archibald?” William asked the butler in his thick transatlantic accent.
“Belief what sir?” asked Archibald.
“The Dow 500 crashed 8 million points yesterday. We must be in a recession!”
“Nonsense, sir,” Archibald said, “you’re a billionaire. None of that will affect you.”
“Mmm, right you are,” William said as he sipped his Earl Grey. “Do tell me, have I missed any phone calls this morning?”
“It’s 5am, sir. It won’t be start of business for another couple of hours.”
“Right. Well I better get moving then, I don’t want to fall behind on the day’s schedule.”
William Shitz removed his smoking jacket, put on his business attire and ascot then climbed into the back of his Rolls-Royce Phantom III. As Archibald was driving the vehicle, he handed the gold-plated phone back to William. “Your daughter is on the line, sir,” he said.
“Darla Shitz,” William said into the phone, “how have you been my dear?”
“Dad, I’m ready to come home,” Darla replied.
“Now now, Darla, you know I wish to be called ‘father’.”
“Father, I’ve been in France for six years! I know that it was rough on you when mother passed, but I want to be back with my family!”
“Now’s not a good time, darling. I must be going, I have a busy day ahead of me. Goodbye.” William abruptly hung up the phone and handed it back to Archibald.
“How is Darla doing, Mr. Shitz?” Archibald asked. “I would love to see her again.”
“Oh fine, fine,” William replied, “but I’m afraid she wishes to stay in France a little longer.”
The Rolls pulled up to Shitz Factory, a large DoD contractor that develops and manufactures weapons used to drop on villages in the Middle East. It was personally owned by Mr. William Shitz himself.
“I haven’t had a day off in two years,” said Allan Funt, Vice-President of operations and William’s right-hand man. “I’m overworked, I’ve developed a drinking problem, and my wife is fucking the mailman. All I’m asking is a couple of days off.”
“I’m sorry Allen,” Mr. Shitz replied, “but I expect all of my employees to give the same dedication that I gave into building this company for a laughable fraction of what I make. That goes for you as well.”
Allan began to tear up. For a fleeting moment, William felt a degree of sympathy for him. “Now now, Allen,” William said, “you’re my most valuable employee. Keep up the good work and maybe I’ll give you a day off next year.”
Allan nodded, wiped away a tear, and diligently went back to work. As William was returning to his office, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach.
“Are you alright, sir?” Archibald asked.
“I don’t understand, Archibald,” William said, “I already had a bowel movement this morning.”
His stomach continued to cramp. He rushed into his private office and on into the bathroom then dropped his pants. He noticed that he already soiled his silk underwear.
William continued to spray shit out of his rectum and into his diamond-made toilet. After a violent two minutes, he grabbed his usual two squares of toilet paper and wiped his crack. When he looked back at the paper, he was appalled.
It was covered in blood.
***
“You got ass cancer, Bill,” the big, burly doctor said to Mr. Shitz. “It’s inoperable and you likely have a year to live.”
“My God,” William responded, “how is that possible?”
“Well, since your factory manufactures uranium weapons, a piece of radioactive material probably snuck up your asshole…I won’t ask how that happened…where it metastasized into terminal cancer. So I recommend you get your affairs in order. Now kindly get the fuck out of my office because I’ve got more patients coming in.”
Mr. Shitz returned to the front desk and paid the $450,000 doctor’s bill. “Would you like to schedule your next appointment?” the receptionist asked.
William thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary,” he said.
He wandered back out to the Rolls-Royce where Archibald was waiting on him with the door open. “I trust your appointment went well, sir,” the butler inquired.
“I’m afraid not Archibald,” William replied. “I have cancer of the asshole.”
The news hit Archibald like a ton of bricks. “Is that so, sir?” the butler asked as he tried to maintain his composure. “Can it be removed?”
“I’m afraid not. It appears that I have only a year to live!”
Mr. Shitz’s longtime butler was shattered inside. He had a million things to say but there was not enough time to say it; Archibald wasn’t ready to tear down the façade of professionalism that held his world together.
“Will…,” the butler began to ask as his voice cracked. “Will you be informing Darla of this news?”
“In time, Archibald,” William replied. “Right now, there’s too much to be done. I must get back to work.”
Mr. Shitz and the butler returned to Shitz Estate. William immediately departed to his study while Archibald remained outside on the brick-paved driveway. The butler sat down behind the wheel of the Rolls-Royce and began to cry.
That’s when he noticed me. I was trimming the hedges along the driveway.
“Who are you?” Archibald asked me as he wiped away tears.
“I’m the new gardener, sir,” I responded. “I started yesterday. Is everything alright?”
“Yes yes,” the butler said, “I have terrible allergies this time of year.”
“I see,” I said, “I’m Jim Grey. You must be Archibald Duke, Mr. Schitz’s longtime butler.”
“Yes I am,” he replied.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I told him. “Mr. Shitz thinks very highly of you. In fact, I’d say that he regards you as his closest friend. You’re probably the only person, besides me of course, that truly understands him.”
A bewildered look fell over Archibald’s face. “How would you know anything about Mr. Shitz?” he asked.
I smiled. “I’ll just say that he and I have been inseparable for a very, very long time.”
***
“I don’t know sir,” Allen Funt said while bawling his eyes out. “I’m already stressed out enough. I don’t know if I can handle running this company while you tend to personal matters.”
“Damn it, Allen,” William retorted, “you’re a workhorse! The best one I’ve got! You should consider it an honor that I’ve selected you to run this factory!”
Allen buried his head in his hands. “I haven’t seen my kids in two years, sir,” he said. “Please, Mr. Shitz! Please loosen my load!”
William got up from behind his desk and plopped down next to Allen. “I’ll tell you what,” Mr. Shitz said as he patted him on the knee, “if you do a good job, I’ll give you a 1.5% raise on top of your $24,000 yearly salary. So please, Allen, find the strength to carry on.”
Allen nodded, blew his nose, and wiped away the tears. “Yes sir,” he said. Then got up and returned to work.
William sat back down behind his desk. I entered his office carrying a bouquet of lilies. “Good morning, Mr. Shitz,” I said, “I just cut these and figured you’d enjoy some.”
“Lilies?” William inquired. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m your new gardener, Jim Grey,” I said, “If you recall, your wife wanted these planted at your estate before she passed. These were her favorite flowers. She wanted you to think of her every time you looked at them.”
William was dumbfounded. “How-how do you know this?”
I found a vase and placed the flowers inside of it. “Mr. Shitz, I know that you’re dying,” I said as I sat the vase on his desk. “Yet you feel that there’s too much to be done. And you’re right. You’ve always been a hard worker. But this might be the hardest thing you’ve had to face.”
“But…how do you know so much about me?”
I sat down in front of his desk. “Do you believe in the afterlife, Mr. Shitz?”
“I’ve- I’ve honestly never considered it.”
“Well I’ll just say that I’ve watched you your entire life,” I said, then smiled. “I guess you could call me your protector.”
“I see,” William replied as a growing look of concern fell over his face. “Then I suppose heaven’s been displeased with my performance.”
“Not entirely,” I said. “But there is an opportunity here to right the wrongs. It’s not too late, Mr. Shitz.”
“If you are who you say you are, Mr. Grey,” William said, “then what do you know about living as a mortal; to face the temptations of flesh and blood?”
“This is not just a chance at redemption for yourself, William,” I replied. “If we work together, we will both be back in heaven’s good graces.”
***
Who am I, this mortal shell Jim Grey?
Didst I fly too close to the flame? Did I sear off my wings and tumble to this providence of flesh and sin?
“Hear me now o Heaven!” I cried out, “must I die with the blood of my veins?”
But reprieve was delivered from upon high; “be a good servant, but not for thy sake.”
Yet a servant is nothing more than a slave; and I’m a slave by the Grace of heaven.
***
I was no more free than Mr. Shitz was free from impending death. “What happens when I die?” he asked.
“I am no more an expert on death than you are on life.”
“Is that the meaning of your visit Jim Grey? To give me one more shot at life?”
“Perhaps.”
But how could I deliver something that I don’t possess?
Now enough about me….
***
The helicopter landed on the estate lawn. Archibald extended his hand to help Ms. Shitz deboard the craft. “How delightful it is to see you again!” he told her as they strolled across the grass and into the foreroom.
“Tell me, Archie,” Darla said, “how bad is it?”
“Your father is fine right now,” he replied, “but in time, his health will deteriorate. He will lose all control of his faculties. Piss and shit will flow out of him continuously before his bowels fall out of his asshole at the moment of death. I can’t think of a worse way to go. He would be better off ending it now rather than remain cognizant as his dignity melts away.”
“How horrible!” Darla bawled as she buried her head into Archibald’s chest.
“Yes,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her, “but you mustn’t say anything about it when you see him. He’s still processing his ass cancer diagnosis.”
“I understand,” she said while wiping away tears. “He’s always been a stubborn man. This will take time.”
“Of course,” Archibald replied as he offered her a brandy. “How was your stay in France?”
“Absolute dogshit!” Darla exclaimed. “They’re a bunch of chain-smoking, wino bastards! And the world thinks the US is racist?! Try spending 15 minutes at a Parisian bus stop! Jesus fucking Christ!”
I wandered in through the kitchen door bearing a gift. “A rose for you,” I offered Ms. Darla Shitz, “I’m Jim Grey. Welcome home.”
Nothing across all heavens, from the seas of Aquila to the moons of Indus, prepared me for the sight I saw; a woman, whose beauty rivaled that of Artemis.
“This is our new gardener, Ms. Shitz,” Archibald said. “He’s an acquaintance of your father.”
“Thank you, Mr. Grey,” Ms. Shitz spoke as she placed her hand into mine, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Now, please excuse me. I must be meeting with my father.”
“Of course,” I said. I watched her gracefully gather herself as though there wasn’t a storm raging inside of her.
There too was a quiet storm gathering within me. What was it about Darla Shitz that promoted such passion?
Why was heaven hellbent on its temptations?
***
“Damn it Dad! When you spend six years in a French whorehouse as I have, you can smell shit from a mile away! And YOU, sir, are full of SHIT!” Darla yelled to her father.
“Darla, please,” Mr. Shitz responded, “I’m wearing adult diapers now. I assure you, there’s not an ounce of shit in me.”
“Well you can’t spend your remaining days toiling away in your study!”
William stood up from behind his desk and shoveled ice into a glass. He poured himself a tall drink of Jack Daniel’s whiskey. “Are you sure that’s a good idea in your condition?” Darla asked.
“Goddamnit Darla, can you stop pestering this dying man?!” he snapped.
This was the first time Darla heard her father drop his high-class pretensions. “So there’s a man underneath that mustache and ascot after all,” she said.
“Fuck you,” William replied as he pounded the whiskey. “I have nothing to be ashamed of. I raised you and I built a billion dollar company. Now leave me be.”
Darla laughed and stood up. “I’m home now,” she said, “you’re gonna have to face me eventually. Or else I will haunt you till your dying day.”
She stormed out of the study. Moments later, I walked in to find Mr. Shitz blind drunk. “Damn it, Jim, I can’t handle this right now,” he said to me.
“Yes sir, I understand,” I said. “Mind if I have a drink?”
He nodded.
I took a sip of the stout liquid and wondered how humans could stomach the stuff. “Sir,” I wondered aloud, “can you tell me about your wife?”
William swiveled his chair, back facing me. “What can I tell you about her that you don’t already know?” he asked.
“Well,” I continued, “I know that you loved her. Doesn’t that extend to your offspring as well? Especially since she’s a continuation of you and your wife?”
William swiveled back around. “Are you some kind of fucking moron?” he asked.
“In your ways, yes,” I said as I downed the whiskey.
William laughed. “Darla and me have an understanding,” he said, “care for another drink?”
“Please.”
The conversation trailed off after that. William eventually passed out on his leather-bound sofa in the study. But being new to this intoxicating experience, I ventured out to the garden, carrying the bottle with me.
The pond was the most beautiful spot. As dusk started to settle, katydids and frogs began their nightly symphonies. Across the way, I saw Darla lighting a cigarette.
I turned my head when she looked my way. I focused on the bottle as I pretended not to notice her. Then moments passed and she was out of sight.
The sun finally sunk below the horizon and the moonlight peered through the clouds. I thought I was alone.
“Mind if I have a swig?” a voice from behind me asked.
***
“Don’t tell anyone that we fucked,” Darla said as she climbed naked out of bed. “I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than sleeping with the gardener.”
“I understand,” I replied.
“By the way,” she asked as she strapped on her brassiere, “how do you know my father has ass cancer?”
I began to stutter. “I, uh…it’s a long story.”
“Oh shit,” Darla said, “you’re not one of his long lost children are you?”
“Umm…no?”
“Oh thank god,” she exhaled, “I wouldn’t want THAT to happen again!”
“ANYWAYS…,” I replied, “Will you be returning to France anytime soon?”
“God no, I’d rather be the one that has ass cancer.”
“Then why’d you go there in the first place?”
Darla paused dressing for a moment. “I…I was dating Stromae.”
“But he’s Belgian.”
“Look, you’re not INTERPOL! I don’t have to tell you shit!” Darla exploded. She finished dressing and stormed out of the guest house.
I climbed out of bed when Archibald wondered in with breakfast on a tray. I was putting on my underwear.
“Exquisite dong, sir,” he said
“Thank you Archibald.”
“I trust you laid the pipe well last night.”
I tilted my head. “But Archibald, how did you know?”
“Now now,” he said, “Mr. Shitz pays me very well to know goings on within his estate. A flea can’t fart…as the expression goes…without me hearing it. So please, Mr. Grey, please handle Ms. Shitz delicately.”
“But Archie,” I replied, “it was just a one time thing. It…it won’t happen again.”
Archibald was skeptical. “Mr. Grey, what goes on between two adults is none of my business. But, I figured you to be of higher character.”
I nodded as I looked down to the floor.
“Now,” he continued, “when you finish breakfast, Mr. Shitz has requested that you join him on a hunting excursion. A rare breed of arctic fox has been brought to the estate, and Mr. Shitz would like to hunt it into extinction before cancer takes its toll. His associate, Mr. Allen Funt will be joining the party. Please be punctual.”
***
“The arctic fox spends its days burrowing underground and avoiding contact with its own kind,” Mr. Shitz explained while staring down the sights of his shotgun. “It’s a solitary animal, much like myself. When it dies, it dies alone.”
Mr. Shitz pulled the trigger, unleashing the sound of hell. A helpless fox, only a few yards ahead, exploded into a million pieces, leaving only fur and guts strewn about.
After witnessing the appalling sight, Allen Funt started heaving at the foot of a tree. With a slight smile on his face, Mr. Shitz reloaded the shotgun. “Mr. Funt,” he said, “I do believe it’s your turn.”
“No thank you, sir,” Mr. Funt replied as tears streamed down his face, “I just don’t have it in me!”
“Goddamnit Allen!” Shitz yelled, “I will be dead in less than a year and you will be the CEO of a billion dollar company! Now if you want PTO, a livable wage, and health insurance, you will senselessly kill the last surviving member of this species into extinction!”
“I can’t!”
Shitz cocked the shotgun and directed towards Funt. “You will!” he declared.
“Oh god I’m gonna die!!!”
“Gentlemen,” I interrupted, “what’s the meaning of this? Mr. Shitz, please lower your weapon.”
Allen Funt pissed his pants as he had a stare down with Mr. Shitz. He also shit pants. After a few moments, William came to his senses and lowered the shotgun.
“My apologies, gentlemen,” Mr. Shitz said. “Mr. Funt, it was my hope that killing these animals would give you the courage to turn this shotgun on me. It was my dream to be executed by the man who would supplant me as CEO.”
William then looked out onto the field to admire the last surviving arctic fox. It was juxtaposed proudly against the endless horizon. “It’s just you and me!” William yelled to the animal, “we’re the last of our kind!”
He dropped the shotgun by his side then looked over to me. “Mr. Grey,” William said, “you are my protector; my guide across the river Styx. But I’m not ready to punch that ticket.”
Mr. Shitz started stripping off his clothes, down to his underwear. Finally his bare cock was flapping in the wind. It was cold that day.
“Jim Grey,” William continued, “if you want me dead, you’ll have to catch me first.”
Allen Funt and I then watched Mr. Shitz’s flabby asscheeks jiggle as he hopped like a jackrabbit into the tree line.
***
“Mr. Shitz is no stranger to wandering bare ass naked in the woods,” Archibald informed us, “this is no cause for alarm.”
“He wanted Allen to kill him with a shotgun, Archie!” I said, “I think concern is warranted here.”
Archibald put his hands up to his face and rubbed his bald head. “What difference does it make?” he asked. “He’ll be dead soon anyway.”
Darla put down the booze and spoke up. “Archie’s right,” she said, “we should let him die the way he wants: balls dangling in the wind.”
“But that’s not the way he wants to go!” I replied. “He wants me to hunt him; he wants us to hunt him.”
“But why, Jim?! Why?!” Allen Funt cried out.
I went to the bar and poured a stiff drink. “Because…,” I said, “because his whole life he’s felt misunderstood. He’s been alone in this world. He wants us to to prove our love to him, by hunting him in the wilderness so we might see his true self.”
Allen Funt continued to bawl his eyes out. “I just want to go home and see my family!” he cried.
“Calm yourself, Allen,” I said, “you’re just as much a part of this as we are.”
Darla, already three sheets to the wind, tried to slur out her words. “And how do you know so much about father, Mr. Grey?” she asked.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I replied. “None of you would.”
Archibald picked up the shotgun and began loading shells. “Probably not, Mr. Grey,” he said, “but I know what I must do. I’ve been William Shitz’s butler for 47 years. If anyone must put him down, it should be me.”
“That’s your responsibility?” I asked.
Archibald took a long pause. “Yes,” he said. “It’s common knowledge that butlers must take an oath to do what must be done, even if that means mercifully killing his master with a shotgun. It is my sworn duty.”
I walked up to the aged butler and put my hands on his shoulders. “When the time comes,” I asked, “can you do what must be done?”
“Yes, Mr. Grey,” he said as he looked me square in the eye, “and if I can’t pull the trigger, then it becomes your responsibility…and I too must be executed for my dereliction of duty.”
***
“He’s close,” Archibald said as he dug his fingers into the soil.
“How can you tell?” I asked.
“There’s a steaming pile of bloody shit right there,” he replied. I looked to the right and lo and behold, right there a reeking pile of human poop.
“It seems like you’ve done this many times before,” I said to him.
“Far too often.”
The four of us-Archibald, Darla, Allen Funt, and myself- trekked through the woods in search of a mentally deteriorating William Shitz. The sun was starting to set. A gentle gust was blowing in from the north; a storm was brewing. While we found hopeful signs that Mr. Shitz was still alive, we only covered a small portion of the 148,971 acres that he owned.
We decided to hunker down for the night. I put together a small fire in the middle of camp. As usual, Allen Funt couldn’t stop crying. “What are we gonna do when we find him?” he bawled.
“We’re gonna kill him,” Archibald replied as he gnawed on a piece of beef jerky.
“But why 😭😭😭😭?” Funt asked.
Archibald threw down his jerky and pulled out a small machete. He grabbed Allen and held him up to a tree with the blade up to his neck. “Because Mr. Shitz wishes it!” Archibald screamed.
“Gentlemen!” I interrupted. “We must maintain our composure! Let’s not make any decisions on Mr. Shitz until we find him!”
Archibald nodded and lowered the machete from Allen’s neck. “I know what I must do,” he said as he slid the blade back into its holster. Then he looked me in the eye. “Just don’t forget what YOU must do.”
Archie climbed back into his tent for the night. So did Allen Funt, as he soiled his pants for the second time that day. Darla and I sat by the fire.
“Why did your father love your mother?” I asked her.
“You really are some kind of fucking moron,” she said as she lowered the flask from her lips. “Why don’t you understand the simplest of human concepts? Are you some kind of alien?”
“In a way,” I replied as I took a swig from the same flask.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Probably not! But try me! Nobody, not even Archie, understands your sudden appearance in my father’s life.”
I took another big hit from the flask. “It is my duty,” I explained, “to guide your father into the next life. Or at least it was. You see, I was his guardian…but I fell out of heaven’s grace.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she replied. “So if you’re his disgraced guardian angel, then why are you bothering to fulfill your heavenly duties?”
“It’s a long story,” I said. “Redemption I suppose.”
“For what?”
“I…I guess I thought I could be human,” I stuttered. “But I never grasped human love. I was damned…damned to walk the earth; being neither human nor angel. I thought I could do one last thing…revealing to your father love and compassion in his final days; the kind he has never felt before. But then something strange happened.”
“What happened?” Darla asked longingly.
“I met you.”
Darla chuckled and shook her head. “You’re just another drunk weirdo that’s wandered into my life,” she said. Then she stood up and brushed the dirt and leaves from her jeans as the rain started sprinkling down. “But,” she continued, “you ain’t a bad fuck. So you’re welcome to join me in my tent. Just TRY to last longer than two minutes this time, mmk?”
***
“I found him!” Allen Funt screamed through the torrential rain. It was our second day of hunting for the surprisingly evasive Mr. Shitz. The terrain in the sprawling forest proved to be formidable.
Archibald, shotgun in hand, ran towards Allen’s screams. Darla and myself weren’t far behind. “Where is he?” Archibald asked as he approached.
“Right there,” Allen said.
The butler looked down and was puzzled. “That’s just a hole in the ground,” Archibald replied.
Allen cocked his head. “But I thought that’s what this was,” Funt said, pointing to his ass.
Darla had enough. “This excursion is pointless!” she yelled. “Just let my father die naked and shitting himself in the woods, just as he wanted!”
Allen Funt seconded the notion.
Archibald tuned out the noise as he gazed into the woods ahead. “There,” he pointed.
Less than a 100 yards away was the majestic arctic fox. The creature contrasted like an apparition against the wet and drab forest. “Follow that fox,” Archibald ordered.
The butler proceeded forward while Darla and I followed in his footsteps. Allen Funt fell into the very hole he pointed out moments before.
“Help!” he screamed.
No one came to his aid.
We watched closely as the fox trotted forward a few feet. As the animal neared a meadow, a totally nude Mr. Shitz fell out of a tree and onto Darla’s shoulders. “Father!” she cried, but Mr. Shitz was delivering a rear naked chokehold, quite literally, as he was hanging on to her rear, he was naked, and had her a chokehold.
“Release her!” Archibald ordered.
Darla lost consciousness and fell to the ground. With an open shot, Archibald raised the shotgun and fired. But the spry Mr. Shitz dodged the shrapnel and disappeared into the shadows.
“Goddamn, he’s like the Vietcong,” Archibald said as he reloaded the shotgun.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
“He’s too dangerous like this,” Archibald replied. “If you see him, kill him.”
Right then, Mr. Shitz swung around a tree and knocked Archibald out cold. The shotgun flew forward to my feet.
I kneeled down to pick up the weapon. But Mr. Shitz was close enough that I could see the rainwater dripping off his ballsack. I slowly picked up the shotgun and returned to my feet.
It was nearing dusk and the rain was falling harder. But the red in Mr. Shitz’s eyes pierced the dark through the booms of thunder and brilliant flashes of light.
***
“Pull the trigger, Jim Grey,” William said as rain poured down his face. “That’s why you’re here, after all.”
I stood frozen in an awe-inspired fear. The nude figure that stood before me transfigured into a dark angel. He was still man, but appeared to possess the powers of hell.
I was unable to pull the trigger.
But before I could react, William grabbed the barrel and slammed the butt of the shotgun to my face. Still conscious, I fell backwards into the muddied forest floor. I could taste something from the corner of my mouth; it was blood, assisted by the rain, streaming down from the wound on my forehead.
I had never bled before.
William now held the shotgun but threw it aside as he stood over me. His cock was inches from my face. Finally, the rush of panic kicked in and I sprinted aimlessly through the woods.
But the newly minted demonic angel was never far behind.
Then I reached an obstacle: a gully nearly 100 feet deep but a little over 10 feet wide. I had no time to think. I leapt across the crevice but my feet missed the landing on the other side.
My life was hanging perilously over the side of a cliff, fingers barely maintaining a grip on a wet, slippery rock jutting over the edge.
William looked down upon me struggling like a helpless creature. For the first time in his 70 years, he felt something he previously thought impossible: sympathy…compassion. Mr. Shitz then entirely hurdled the 10 foot gap and kneeled down before me.
“It’s quite a thing to live in fear, isn’t it?” he asked. “But that’s what it means to feel alive.”
Right as my fingers slipped, William grabbed my wrist and single-handedly pulled me to safety. As he dropped me on land, I impulsively wiggled backwards up to a tree, not knowing what to expect.
The arctic fox wandered up and sat obediently next to Mr. Shitz. The old, dying man gazed upon the animal and sat down before me.
“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe,” William told me, “I’ve had shits like fire from a baconator in Hoboken. I watched Harry Reems and Arthur C. Clarke cheer as they masturbate. Now all of those moments will be lost, in time, like the career of David Blaine.”
A look of sorrow fell over William Shitz’s rain-covered face. “Time to die,” he uttered. And with those words, the clouds departed, and the fox trotted off into the sunset.
I laid there for what seemed like hours, pondering Mr. Shitz’s last moments. And in his waning hours, he bestowed upon me the gift of humanity; his last, and perhaps only, act of benevolence.
Then I heard a voice from across the gully. “I guess he’s through, eh?” it asked. It was Archibald, holding the shotgun.
“Finished,” I said.
Archibald tossed the shotgun to my side and started to walk away.
Then he paused.
“It’s too bad I won’t live,” he pondered aloud, “but then again, who does?”
***
After I shot Archibald for his supposed “dereliction of duty”, he managed to survive.
“Maybe we’ll just call it even,” the old butler said as he held his hand over the gushing shotgun wound. He placed his arm around my shoulder and I carried him back to the estate.
Darla regained consciousness after being choked out by her dying, naked father. “Is he finally dead?” she asked.
I nodded.
“About fucking time,” she replied, “let’s leave that crazy old bastard’s body out in the woods.”
Everyone agreed.
We all returned to the estate and shared a bottle of brandy. Archibald was looking a little pale due to the massive blood loss. Darla was happy to be home. “What the fuck was up with that arctic fox?” she asked.
I swirled around my glass while I pondered. “I guess it symbolized Mr. Shitz’s soul,” I said. “At his moment of death, the fox took up his spirit. Now Mr. Shitz is truly free; free from man-made constraints, free to live the life he always wanted. And more importantly, he took up my spiritual burdens by becoming the Angel of Death, and bestowing up me full humanity; the greatest gift he ever gave anyone. Or some shit like that. I dunno.”
“Okay good. Glad I wasn’t the only one that saw it,” Darla replied. “Because I was REALLY tripping balls out there.”
We all had a good laugh, including Archibald who continued bleeding all over the couch. Then it occurred to me:
“Christopher Nolan is a hack,” Mr. Ree said, “Oppenheimer looks nothing like Cillian Murphy.”
“Goddamnit Mr. Ree, I fucking hate the old west,” I replied as I spit out some chewing tobacco, “it’s nothing like the movies. Everyone is drunk all the time and reeks of cow shit!”
“How’s that any different from 21st Century LA?”
“I know we’ve been here awhile,” I said as I drank directly from the whiskey bottle, “but I just can’t get used to it. I miss Miriam. I miss Izzy. I miss my unborn son. Hell, I even miss Angelika!”
“Who?”
I took a few cocaine drops to help with a toothache. “Nevermind,” I replied, “I forgot what we were talking about. I could use some grub though. Where the hell is Maybelline?”
Maybelline, Oppenheimer’s wife, brought out a fully roasted turkey with all the fixins. Mr. Ree and I were joining her and her son Malachi for supper around the fireplace. “Sure looks delicious, Mrs. Oppenheimer,” I said, “will Mr. Oppenheimer be joining us this evening?”
“He’s in town tonight. There’s a public hanging,” she explained, “he probably won’t be back until the wee hours of the night.”
“This turkey is delightful, Mrs. Oppenheimer,” Mr. Ree said, “too bad Bob couldn’t join us.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ree. I didn’t catch your first name, by the way.”
Ree looked up from his plate, mouth stuffed with turkey, and cocked his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.
I changed the subject. “I suppose you’re used to not having Bob around. Being a sheriff’s wife must be lonely,” I said.
“Yes,” Mrs. Oppenheimer lamented, “but I have my dear son Malachi to keep me company.” She smiled and looked over to her son. “Malachi Oppenheimer, how the lord has blessed us,” she continued. Then Maybelline looked at me with a wink and a suspicious, crooked smile. “I also have you two gentlemen to watch after me,” she said, “care for some pie?”
I thought for a moment.
“Well, I appreciate you offering,” I replied, “but because of poor diet and access to copious amounts of narcotics associated with the Old West, I haven’t experienced an erection since I’ve arrived and…”
“I think she means apple pie,” Mr. Ree interrupted.
“Oh yes, of course. I’d love some pie,” I said.
Maybelline got up from the table and departed for the kitchen. I quietly nudged Mr. Ree. “Hey, do you still have that opium pipe?” I asked him.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You are stoned as fuck!”
“I know! I think I have a problem!”
“If we ever make it back to the future,” Mr. Ree whispered, “you’re getting some help!”
Maybelline returned to the table all smiles carrying a piping hot trey of apple pie. Malachi was licking his chops with anticipation. “I want the biggest piece, Mom!” he declared. Mr. Ree and I chuckled.
“It sure is nice having a full house for a change,” Maybelline said, “it keeps my mind from worrying about Mr. Oppenheimer.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Elkhorn used to be a quiet town,” she explained, “but with Mr. Dickleburg from Helena coming down and bullying us townsfolk, Bob has become more worried. He’s just one man, you see. Mr. Dickleburg has a whole army.”
“I assure you ma’am, Mr. Ree and I will do everything we can to help Bob protect this town.”
“It’s not only that,” Maybelline paused, “but he’s also taken to the bottle a lot lately.” She began to weep as she grabbed ahold of my hand. “Oh, he’s just not the same man anymore!” she cried.
“There there,” I said.
Suddenly, J Robert Oppenheimer busted through the door and tossed Mr. Ree and me two Winchesters. “Grab a horse,” he ordered, “we gotta ride into town.”
“But Bob,” I said, “I told you: I’m a terrible shot without my .357!”
“Just point and shoot,” Oppenheimer replied, “I don’t have time to explain. Hurry! Elkhorn is about to have company!”
“I can’t even beat off alone anymore,” thought Bill Lorenz. He tossed and turned in bed, flipping over and noticing a fellow inmate, Sappy, staring gleefully at him. “That’s enough,” Bill finally said.
He threw off the covers, climbed out of bed, and started banging on his cell door. “Guard!” he yelled.
“Bill, what do you want at this hour?” the guard asked as he was rubbing his eyes. “We’re all trying to sleep around here.”
“Sorry to disturb you PRINCESS,” Bill replied, “but I demand to speak with Dr. Effington.”
“You know she doesn’t come in until 8:30.”
“Call her in!”
“I’d be happy to call in Dr. Effington, Mr. Lorenz. What’s the emergency?”
“I’m unhappy about having a cell mate.”
“But that’s hardly an emergency.”
“It is when you haven’t slept in two days! How can I get re-educated when I can’t get a good night’s rest?!”
“Bill, as you know, you were given a cell mate to help you with your anti-social behavior. If you are having trouble sleeping, we can provide you with medication. Otherwise you will have to wait for Dr. Effington to approve removing your cell mate.”
“I’m not taking those damn sleeping pills! When you see Dr. Effington, tell her that I demand to see her right away!”
“Will do, Mr. Lorenz.”
Bill turned around and noticed Sappy still staring at him. “Keep smiling Sappy,” Bill said, “one day I’ll kick those teeth in.”
***
“Sappy’s a goddamn rapist!” Bill said to Dr. Effington, “why did you send him to my cell?”
Dr. Effington sat in her chair while she sipped on tea. There was no desk to separate the two. No guards. It was just the two of them sitting alone in a small, intimate room.
“His name’s not ‘Sappy’,” she replied, “It’s Jeffrey Rohmer. He has a history of not recognizing personal boundaries and we paired him with you because you are recognized as having a more aggressive personality. From you, he might learn consequences from crossing boundaries. From him, you might learn how to deal with difficult people. You both suffer from antisocial behavior. We had hoped that this would be a learning experience.”
“Sappy is a criminal! I’m not!” Bill stated, “I’m a political prisoner!”
“You engaged in activity that resulted in the deaths of several people. That is criminal behavior in every jurisdiction.”
“I had the right to preserve my ideals!”
“Be that as it may, after you were found guilty, you declined the other forms of treatment for reintegration into society. So you were sent here where you will learn how to live in society. This is how the system works.”
“I oppose the system. It’s brainwashing!”
“The aim of the Revolution was to create a more fairer society. That included changes to the justice and incarceration systems. If you play by the rules, you will be fully reintegrated with a clean slate.”
“Fuck you. The Revolution was bullshit. A difference of opinion is not criminal!”
“I’m not here to argue history and politics, Mr. Lorenz. My aim is to rehabilitate you, no matter how long it takes. Because of the Revolution and the new governing regime, I have all the resources to do it.”
“I take that as a threat.”
Dr. Effington finished her tea and lowered the cup to her lap. “Mr. Lorenz, if sharing a cell with Mr. Rohmer is too difficult, we can have him removed,” she said. “Now that that matter is settled, I would like to continue with your therapy.”
“Not today,” Bill replied, “you’ll have to find someone else to brainwash.”
Effington shook her head. “Very well,” she said, “please let the guards know if you need any reading materials. This need not be a painful experience for you, Bill.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Bill replied, “but you can stick that offer up your ass.”
***
“Forget it, Bill,” Susan said, “I’ve consulted with attorney after attorney and they’ve all said the same thing. Just play ball, take the treatment, and you’ll be released. The Reformed Department of Corrections will provide you with a job and assistance once when you’re released. And when you’re deemed fully rehabilitated, your criminal record will be expunged. It’s not like it once was.”
This was the first visit Susan paid to Bill in some months. The guards stood back while the two shared a table in the prison cafeteria. “That’s not the point,” Bill replied, “I’m being treated as a common criminal, which I’m not. What are they saying about me on the outside?”
Susan said nothing.
“That bad, huh?” Bill chuckled, “What happened to the world, Susan? Are we not allowed to be human anymore? This is everything we fought against!”
“We lost, Bill,” Susan said, “Sure it has taken time getting used to that. But I survived the rehabilitation process and things aren’t so bad on the outside. Some people know who I am and the things I’ve done, but everyone trusts the process. It’s like it doesn’t matter. I’m fully reintegrated.”
“You sold out, in other words.”
“Don’t be stupid, Bill.”
After a moment of awkward silence, Bill reached across the table and placed his hand on top of hers. “Did we ever fuck?” he asked.
Susan gave out a throaty laugh. “We got drunk and fooled around once or twice,” she said.
“Why didn’t we ever get together?”
“It would have never worked.”
“I know,” Bill lamented, “you were always too smart for me.”
“You were always preoccupied.”
“Now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life here. My loss.”
Susan stared into his eyes for a few moments while she clasped his hand. Finally, she stood up and straightened herself out. “I handed the package you requested off to the guards,” she said, “Goodbye, Bill.”
Bill exhaled. “So long, Susan.”
He watched her walk out through the gates and out of his life. Then the guards escorted him back to the cell.
Minutes later, Junior, the senior day shift guard, walked up to Bill’s door. “Good news Bill,” Junior said as he handed him Susan’s package, “I don’t know what you want with all this leather, but it cleared security. Because you’re not on suicide watch, it was approved by Dr. Effington. Of course, it can’t leave this cell. You will be checked each time.”
“Understood, Junior. Thank you.”
***
“Fuck your Philly cheesesteak!” Bill yelled to Junior. The guard was delivering Bill’s dinner directly to his cell. But the prisoner took the plate and dumped the contents down the toilet.
“Goddamnit Bill,” Junior said, “what’s your problem?”
“As a political prisoner, I’m going on a hunger strike!” Bill replied.
“But you requested the Philly cheesesteak for fuck’s sake! What more can we do to make you happy?!”
“Nothing! My sole aim is to agitate.”
Junior shook his head. “Look,” he said, “if you go on a hunger strike, we’ll just sedate you and feed you through a tube. Furthermore, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not your enemy. Dr. Effington is not your enemy. No one here is your enemy. We’re all here to help.”
“Help with what?” Bill asked, “to transition me into a society I abhor?”
“Fine!” Junior replied, “stay here for the rest of your life! But please do me a favor: don’t make things difficult for me. We’ve gotten along in the past and I consider you my friend. Don’t turn me into an agent of your persecution complex.”
“But you are persecuting me,” Bill said, “you sold out to this new order. You are my enemy.”
“Whatever,” Junior said as he stormed away, “I can’t deal with you when you’re like this.”
But a little after midnight, Bill was tossing and turning in his bunk when Junior entered his cell. “Get dressed,” he ordered, “Dr. Effington wants to begin a new treatment.”
“She wants to start now?” Bill asked.
“Yes. It’s tailored specifically for you. Relax, no drugs are involved.”
Bill jumped out of bed and put on his standard prison jumpsuit. Junior and two other guards escorted him to Dr. Effington’s office where he was greeted by a nurse at the reception desk. “I’m just going to check your vitals, Mr. Lorenz,” the nurse said. After taking his blood pressure and temperature, she sat him down for questioning.
“Have you been depressed in the last week?” the nurse asked.
“Well I am incarcerated,” Bill replied, “that doesn’t exactly make me happy.”
“Do you experience any sexual problems? Are you able to achieve an erection?”
The question took him off guard. “Uhh, well, ummm…I am 47 years old. Maybe I don’t have the stamina I once did but…”
“Will you require the use of a stimulant to achieve an erection?”
He began to blush. “I’m, I’m not sure what this has to do with…”
“Just answer the question, please.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you have any heart conditions that you would like to discuss that you haven’t previously disclosed?”
“No?”
The nurse then unzipped his jumpsuit and attached a device that stuck to his bare chest. “We will be monitoring your heart rate,” the nurse explained, “but be warned: this device will also shock you if you get too close to Dr. Effington. Understand?”
Bill nodded. He was too petrified and confused to say anything.
“Alright, Dr. Effington will meet you in her office,” the nurse explained, “please step inside.”
Bill stepped into Dr. Effington’s office, as he had done dozens of times before, and the nurse shut the door behind him. He sat down in the same comfy chair that had always been there.
Nearly 10 minutes later, Dr. Effington stepped into the room. She was dressed a little differently, wearing only a long light blue coat that went well past her knees. “Doctor,” Bill said, “what is going on here?”
The Doctor pulled out her chair from behind her desk and placed it less than five feet from Bill. “This will all make sense in time, Mr. Lorenz,” she said, “now please relax and answer a few questions. First, do you find me attractive?”
Bill wiggled in his seat. “Uhh, yeah. Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Second: do you trust me?”
“I uhh, I don’t know if I have any other choice, Dr. Effington.”
“Fair enough, Mr. Lorenz. Now please, don’t be alarmed. I’m about to remove my coat, and underneath I am completely nude. Do not be ashamed to look at me or my body but please answer every question I ask. If you feel the need to undress yourself or masturbate, you are encouraged to do so. But you may not touch me under any circumstance. Am I understood?”
Bill sat deathly silent but Dr. Effington took that as an implicit ‘yes’.
“Alright, let’s begin,” she said. The Doctor removed her glasses, let down her hair, then unbuttoned her coat…
***
“Do you care to say anything?” Dr. Effington asked.
Bill scratched his head as he gazed at his psychologist’s nude body. She sat cross-legged directly in front of him as he looked upon her torso. He still didn’t believe what he was seeing.
“This is a little weird for me, doc,” he finally uttered.
“I understand that,” Effington replied, “but let’s discuss your relationships.”
“My relationships?”
“Yes. Your romantic ones perhaps?”
Bill chuckled. “That’s irrelevant,” he said, “now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to return to my cell.”
Dr. Effington shifted in her seat. She quickly uncrossed her legs, briefly exposing her herself before placing one leg over the other. “Please make this work, Mr. Lorenz,” she said, “now, what can you tell me about Susan? Were you ever romantically involved with her?”
Bill began to sweat a little. “Ummm, I don’t think I’m prepared to talk about that just yet,” he stuttered.
“Fair enough. Did you have any other partners?”
“Ehh, not many.”
“Why is that?”
Dr. Effington was holding a pen at the corner of her mouth, drawing attention to her lips. Bill looked down to her bare feet, noticing her painted toe nails. This slightly aroused him as that provided a bit of color to what he though was her otherwise dry personality.
“Well, umm, I guess that’s a good question. I suppose I was either too busy or didn’t think I was desirable enough,” he said.
“Did you always have a low sex drive?”
“Uhh, well…,” Bill then unzipped his jumpsuit and touched himself. “…I don’t think so.”
Dr. Effington began speaking in a slower, softer voice. “Why don’t you find yourself sexually desirable?” she asked.
“I…I guess I’ve always felt unwanted.”
“By whom?”
Bill started losing concentration as he continued to pleasure himself. “I don’t know. My family?” he said.
“Do you wish to explore that? Did you feel neglected by your mother, perhaps?”
As he began to near climax, Bill ignored the question entirely. “Doctor, can you please uncross your legs?” he requested.
“Not right now,” she said, “we still have to make it through this session.”
“Just let me touch you. Any part of you. Let me touch your knee.”
As he reached out, Bill’s heart monitor released several volts of energy, shocking him to the floor. He convulsed on the ground for a few seconds, then he vomited. A few nurses rushed in and helped him back to his seat.
“Mr. Lorenz, you were instructed to not touch me,” Dr. Effington said. Then she stood up and slipped on her long coat. “I hope you heed to that warning next time. But you’ve done well on your first session. When I see you again in a few days, I hope we can pick up where we left off. Good day.”
The nurses picked up Bill by the arms and carried him out of the office. After a quick physical examination, the nurses released him and Junior escorted him back to his cell.
***
“Does this come with a shot of bourbon?” Bill asked. Junior was handing him a cup of coffee through the cell door. Bill’s hands were shaking uncontrollably.
“For that, I’d have to get approval from Dr. Effington,” Junior replied.
“Forget it then,” Bill said as he lifted the cup to his lips.
“Jesus, Bill, what did they do to you in there?”
Bill was still too horrified to provide any detail. Dr. Effington had absolutely cut him to the bone. “What kind of prison is this, Junior?” he asked, “Just let me do my time, Goddamnit!”
“You should know by now that this isn’t a prison per se,” Junior explained, “it’s more of a rehabilitation facility. In this brave new world, the reformed department of corrections believes that everyone, including you regardless of your past deeds, have something to contribute.”
“What the HELL is so rehabilitating about….,” Bill caught himself before he let out too much information. “Dr. Effington’s methods are unethical,” he continued, “I don’t how she thinks that will rehabilitate me.”
“Bill, just tell me what’s going on,” Junior said.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Is she torturing you?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Is she violating your person in any way?”
“Look, just drop it. I have another session with her tomorrow, maybe it will go better. At least I know what to expect. But you revolutionaries are some sick fucks. I’ll never understand any of you.”
“A lot of people would say the same things about you,” an irritated Junior replied, “at least Dr. Effington hasn’t killed anyone.”
Bill sat stone cold silent on his bunk.
“Look,” Junior continued, “it’s a new world. It’ll take time for you to adjust.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Bill yelled.
“This may sound stupid, but I believe in you. You’ll put it together some day.”
“Just fuck off, please,” Bill said as he began to rub his temples. He was still feeling side effects of the electric shock from the day before. Junior nodded and walked away.
Bill pulled out the box of leather goods from under his bunk. He looked over a particular shapen object that he created using crude materials found around the facility. Then he continued toiling away at it, just to pass the time.
***
Bill kept wiping the sweat from his brow as he waited for Dr. Effington. The nurses once again attached the heart shock device to his chest. After 10 agonizing minutes, the psychiatrist walked into the office.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Lorenz,” she said. The doctor rolled her chair just feet away from Bill.
She was wearing the same boring brown skirt that went past her knees. Bill had seen her don that same outfit hundreds of times. Though slightly relieved…because he thought this might be a normal session…he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“That’s quite alright, doctor,” he replied, “I’m sorry for taking out my penis and trying to touch you last time.”
“Given the circumstances, that’s quite understandable,” Dr. Effington explained, “but due to safety concerns, I cannot permit you to touch me. At least not yet.”
Bill wondered what she meant by ‘not yet’.
The doctor pulled out a folder and began looking through her notes. “Now last time we spoke, we were discussing your family life,” she continued, “I would like to explore that further.”
Bill sat up in his seat. “Wait a minute,” he replied, “I’d like an explanation for our last meeting.”
She closed the folder of paperwork in her lap and removed her glasses. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lorenz. But I can’t disclose that at the moment,” Dr. Effington said.
“Why not? It’s my treatment. Don’t you think I’m owed an explanation?”
“All of this will become clear in time. Now please, let’s return to the subject at hand.”
“Doctor, you stood completely nude in front of me. I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have questions.”
“Your psychological makeup is quite unusual, Mr. Lorenz. And unusual problems require unusual solutions.”
“Then I cannot participate in this treatment if I’m not given an adequate explanation.”
Dr. Effington sat up and readjusted herself. She ever so slightly slid up her skirt and uncrossed her legs. For a long half second, Bill could see she was not wearing underwear.
He sat stone faced as she continued her questioning.
“Mr. Lorenz,” Dr. Effington said, “I need you to trust me in this matter. Now please…tell me about your relationship with your mother.”
Bill began to feel sweat beading down his back. “Uh…,” he stuttered, “there’s not much to tell. She OD’d when I was 15. My father was also a junkie and he ran out on me. I was raised by my grandfather.”
“Did this ever make you feel alone? Guilty?”
Bill chuckled as he began rubbing his face. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said.
“What did you do to address these issues?” The doctor asked. She again placed her pen up to her lips.
“Uhhhmmm…I’m sorry, Dr. Effington, but I know you’re not wearing underwear.”
“I know you know.”
“Could I see more?”
Dr. Effington moved her fingers down her blouse. “Possibly,” she replied, “but I need you to answer my questions. Were you angry after your mother’s death? How did you cope?”
“Of course I was angry,” Bill said, “I was angry at the world.”
“Is this how you became involved in politics?”
Bill paused for a moment. “I…I don’t know,” he replied.
“Did you ever have any romantic relationships?”
“I don’t think I was ever good with women.”
“Well, what can you tell me about Susan?”
***
“I can’t believe they granted you a conjugal room,” Susan said.
Bill was busy setting the candle light and pouring wine. “And they gave me alcohol too,” he replied, “maybe things aren’t so bad.”
Susan pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked him square in the eye. “I’m not having sex with you, Bill,” she said, “besides, I’m already seeing someone.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because it’s John.”
Bill looked down at the ground and shook his head. “Goddamn it,” he uttered.
“There was no good way to tell you,” Susan said.
Bill walked over to the window then glanced at the small Christmas tree in the corner. “Well Merry Christmas to me,” he replied.
“But I did bring you a gift,” Susan said as she dug through her bag. She pulled out a picture of him and his grandfather at Mount Hood some 15 years earlier. “I know that this was the last picture of your grandpa before he passed,” she continued.
Bill took the photograph and turned his back on Susan. He was silent as he recalled the memory of that day. After several awkward seconds, Bill spoke up. “I haven’t seen this picture since the day it was taken.”
Susan said nothing.
Then Bill turned around. “Why John?” he asked. “Don’t you two have a history? Isn’t the government watching you two like a hawk?”
“Maybe,” she replied, “but I don’t care. I think we always had feelings for each other.”
“But you guys aren’t up to the same old shit again? You just got out of prison for Christ sake!”
“I don’t think I should discuss this with you right now.”
“You are! Fuck. I hope they don’t have this room bugged!”
Susan threw up her arms. “Let’s drop it,” she yelled, “I was hoping this would be a happy visit. But obviously you’re not mature enough for this conversation.”
Bill began drinking directly from the wine bottle. “I guess not,” he replied.
The two uttered nothing for a few minutes. Finally, Susan stood up. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back,” she said, “you seeing me probably isn’t good for your rehabilitation.”
Bill didn’t reply.
“I wish you luck in the future,” she continued, “when you’re released, if you know what’s good for you, please don’t reach out to me. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
Susan knocked, then a prison guard unlocked the door and let her out. Before she exited, she turned around. “Merry Christmas, Bill,” she said, then departed.
Bill held the bottle of wine in one hand, and the photograph in the other. Then the prison guard stepped in the room. “You still have access to this room for a few more hours,” the guard said, “do you wish to stay here?”
“No,” Bill replied, “please take me back to the cell.”
***
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Effington,” Bill said as he sat prim and proper in the psychotherapist’s office. The good doctor smiled and nodded in astonishment.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Lorenz,” she replied, “I assume your meeting with Susan went well.”
“It did not, but that’s okay. I’m ready to move forward.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, doctor. In fact, I’d like to learn more about you.”
Satisfied with the progress she was seeing, Dr. Effington gave a slight smile. It was the most warmth and personality Bill had seen from her. “What would you like to know?” she asked.
Bill shrugged. “Anything really. Why did you become a doctor?”
“Well, I realized the inefficiency of modern psychology to combat pathological behavior,” she explained, “in men, there’s sometimes a sexual component. If the new government is truly interested in eliminating crime, this problem should be addressed.”
“Your methods here have been kinda extreme, wouldn’t you say?”
“Only in light of the previous paradigm of sexual repression. But we’re now living in a new paradigm.”
Bill nodded. “I see,” he said, “so I’m sexually repressed?”
“Not repressed, Mr. Lorenz. You’re sexually misdirected.”
Bill thought for a moment. “So I’m assuming you’re still not wearing underwear?” he asked.
“You have assumed correctly.”
“May I see?”
Dr. Effington slowly uncrossed her legs and spread eagle in her chair. Bill gazed at her genitalia. “Am I still permitted to uhh…pleasure myself if need be?” he asked.
“Of course,” the doctor replied.
Bill unzipped his prison jumpsuit and started touching himself. “Can you touch yourself too?” he asked.
“Can we continue to discuss your history?”
“Actually, I was hoping to talk more about you.”
Dr. Effington started rubbing her right hand down her thigh. “How so?” she replied.
“Do you do this for all of your patients?”
“Just you.”
Bill began stroking himself harder. “So ehh, what gets you off?” he asked.
“A lot of things,” she replied as she rubbed herself.
“Can you take out your uhh…,” Bill began to stutter.
“Breast?” Dr. Effington asked as she unbuttoned her blouse. After she exposed her bare chest, she placed one hand on a nipple and the other between her legs. Bill was completely zoned in. “When was the last time you were intimate with someone, Mr. Lorenz?” she asked.
“Please don’t call me that,” he said.
“Would you rather be called ‘Bill’?”
“I’d rather be called nothing.”
Dr. Effington’s moans of pleasure increased as Bill neared climax. “You can come closer to me,” she offered.
“I can’t,” he said, “the heart monitor will go off.”
“I had it switched off.”
Bill slowed down as he moved his chair closer to hers. He reached out to touch her leg. As he stroked her leg and himself simultaneously, he began to feel a sense of performance anxiety.
“Is everything alright?” Dr. Effington asked.
“I’m…I’m sorry doctor, I don’t know what my problem is!”
She buttoned up her blouse and placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s quite alright,” she explained, “I’m proud of you. You’ve made a lot of progress.”
***
“Well Christ almighty,” Junior said to Bill, “is that a smile I see on your face?”
“You’re damn right!” Bill replied, “it’s a new day for ol’ William Lorenz!”
“Thought I’d never see the day.”
After the two exchanged pleasantries, Bill walked into the cafeteria and grabbed a tray. As he moved his way down the line, he came up to the dessert potions. “Care for some lemon meringue?” the cook asked.
“Ya know, I used to hate lemon meringue,” Bill replied, “but fuck it! Why not?!”
The cook shrugged and plopped the cake onto his plate. Bill then sat down on the other end of the table from Sappy. “Sappy, you disgusting piece of shit! How ya doing this morning?!” Bill greeted.
Sappy didn’t reply.
As Bill shoved his face with sloppy joes and French fries…drenched in nacho cheese of course…a gang of four inmates snuck up behind Sappy. Bill recognized the men. They were all fellow counter-revolutionaries on the outside. The leader tapped Sappy on the shoulder.
“I’m getting tired of seeing you diddle yourself in the shower,” the man said, “if I see it one more time, I’m gonna cut that pecker off!”
Sappy and the gang began exchanging words. Bill licked the nacho cheese from his fingers and approached the group. “What seems to be the problem here?” he asked.
“This has nothing to do with you Bill,” the leader replied, “go back to stuffing that dumbass mouth of yours.”
“Woah woah woah, cool it buster! I’m just trying to keep the peace!”
“How about YOU cool it, turncoat!” the leader retorted. This caught the attention of Junior, who remained on the sidelines with his finger on the taser.
“Turncoat?” Bill asked, “Tom, what are you on about now? Come on man, we lost! Let’s move on with our lives!”
As the two shouted at each other, Sappy quietly pulled out a shiv and leapt toward the leader. Bill grabbed Sappy and wrestled him to the ground. Junior and the guards never noticed the small dull blade being drawn as their sight was obscured by the gang members. Bill forced the weapon out of Sappy’s hand and snuck it into his own jumpsuit. “Sorry Sappy,” Bill said, “but it looks like you owe me one.”
“Everyone back to your cell!” Junior ordered. The guards grabbed the Sappy and the gang then escorted them out of the cafeteria. “What’s gotten into you Bill?” Junior asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Normally you’d be the one to instigate these fights but now you’re stopping them!”
Bill nodded. “Then I suppose you should be thanking Dr. Effington,” he said.
***
Dr. Effington noticed Bill on the couch, buck ass naked, as she walked into her office. “I’m ready to do this, doctor,” he said.
“I see,” she stuttered as she stared at his erect appendage, “well, uh, what are you wanting to discuss today?”
“Well,” Bill replied, “I want to take the final steps towards rehabilitation, in whatever way you see fit of course.”
“Are you ready for that?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Dr. Effington smiled slightly, nodded, then stripped down completely naked in full view of Bill. She sat down in her usual chair cross legged. “Talk to me,” she ordered.
“What turns you on?”
She looked at him from across the room over the rim of her glasses. “Honesty,” she replied, “intelligence…kindness.”
“Do you think I’m a kind man?”
She started to feel up her left breast. “I seem to think so,” she said, “do you think you are?”
Bill began stroking himself. “No. I don’t think I am at all.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You said you liked honesty, doctor,” Bill replied, “so I’m just being honest.”
Still cross legged, Dr. Effington began feeling herself between her legs. “Do you think that this will get you out of here?” she asked.
“I absolutely do.”
The two sat there, mouths agape, as they pleasured themselves. Finally, Dr. Effington spoke up. “You’ll have to wear a condom,” she said.
“Understood.”
After she tossed him a contraceptive, Bill quickly unwrapped it and stretched it over his part. “Do you need anymore assistance?” he asked.
“I absolutely do,” she replied as she uncrossed her legs. Bill then went down to his knees and placed his mouth onto her genitalia. But he found her exaggerated moans amusing. Bill knew he was no good at oral sex as he only performed it a handful of times.
“Fuck me, please,” Dr. Effington ordered. He had never heard her use such language. Nevertheless he bent her over the chair and took her from behind.
Although she squealed with pleasure the entire time, Bill suspected she was faking. Finally, as Dr. Effington rode him cowgirl in the chair, she appeared to climax. The two held each other for a minute before they ever uttered a word. “Are you good?” she asked as she ran her fingers over his lips.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you, doctor,” he replied.
“Then I declare you rehabilitated,” she said.
Bill rested limp inside her for another few minutes before she got up and dressed. “I can’t begin to tell you how happy this makes me, Mr. Lorenz,” the doctor said as she put on her bra, “please get dressed and I’ll begin the paperwork for the discharge board.”
Bill took a deep breath, nodded, and began dressing. Dr. Effington got on the phone with the board while he quietly went to a corner of her office to remove the condom.
He then dumped the empty cumless rubber into the trash can.
***
Dr. Effington noticed Bill on the couch, buck ass naked, as she walked into her office. “I’m ready to do this, doctor,” he said.
“I see,” she stuttered as she stared at his erect appendage, “well, uh, what are you wanting to discuss today?”
“Well,” Bill replied, “I want to take the final steps towards rehabilitation, in whatever way you see fit of course.”
“Are you ready for that?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Dr. Effington smiled slightly, nodded, then stripped down completely naked in full view of Bill. She sat down in her usual chair cross legged. “Talk to me,” she ordered.
“What turns you on?”
She looked at him from across the room over the rim of her glasses. “Honesty,” she replied, “intelligence…kindness.”
“Do you think I’m a kind man?”
She started to feel up her left breast. “I seem to think so,” she said, “do you think you are?”
Bill began stroking himself. “No. I don’t think I am at all.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You said you liked honesty, doctor,” Bill replied, “so I’m just being honest.”
Still cross legged, Dr. Effington began feeling herself between her legs. “Do you think that this will get you out of here?” she asked.
“I absolutely do.”
The two sat there, mouths agape, as they pleasured themselves. Finally, Dr. Effington spoke up. “You’ll have to wear a condom,” she said.
“Understood.”
After she tossed him a contraceptive, Bill quickly unwrapped it and stretched it over his part. “Do you need anymore assistance?” he asked.
“I absolutely do,” she replied as she uncrossed her legs. Bill then went down to his knees and placed his mouth onto her genitalia. But he found her exaggerated moans amusing. Bill knew he was no good at oral sex as he only performed it a handful of times.
“Fuck me, please,” Dr. Effington ordered. He had never heard her use such language. Nevertheless he bent her over the chair and took her from behind.
Although she squealed with pleasure the entire time, Bill suspected she was faking. Finally, as Dr. Effington rode him cowgirl in the chair, she appeared to climax. The two held each other for a minute before they ever uttered a word. “Are you good?” she asked as she ran her fingers over his lips.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you, doctor,” he replied.
“Then I declare you rehabilitated,” she said.
Bill rested limp inside her for another few minutes before she got up and dressed. “I can’t begin to tell you how happy this makes me, Mr. Lorenz,” the doctor said as she put on her bra, “please get dressed and I’ll begin the paperwork for the discharge board.”
Bill took a deep breath, nodded, and began dressing. Dr. Effington got on the phone with the board while he quietly went to a corner of her office to remove the condom.
He then dumped the empty cumless rubber into the trash can.
***
“Congratulations Bill,” Junior said. Bill was sitting on his bunk while overlooking some discharge paperwork. The meeting with the board was to take place the following morning.
“Don’t congratulate me just yet,” Bill replied, “only Dr. Effington has submitted her approval. The board may still turn me down.”
“Poppycock!” Junior retorted, “You have turned into a model inmate. Society will be lucky to have you back.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course! You have taken full advantage of your sentence. You have changed more than any other inmate I can think of.”
“I should have! 10 years is a long time!”
“And I must confess,” Junior added as he lowered his voice, “like you, I was skeptical of the revolution. But seeing how you improved so much, it really makes me feel like I’m doing the right thing here.”
Bill put down the paperwork and walked up to Junior at the cell door. “You are doing the right thing, Junior,” he said, “you’ve been a good friend to me. Thank you for all you’ve done.”
Junior gave a slight smile. “Perhaps we’ll run into each other on the outside,” he replied.
“Perhaps we will.”
***
“William Longsdale Lorenz has been serving in the Northwest Colorado Correctional Facility for 10 years,” the board chairman stated, “he was convicted for the murder of 19 people during a terrorist attack on a federal building in Billings, Montana…two of whom were children…during his time with the Whisper Militia. After his conviction, Mr. Lorenz stated that his actions were purely political as he believed that, quote ‘the reformed federal government, post revolution, was illegitimate’, end quote. After Mr. Lorenz’s apprehension, the remaining members of the Whisper Militia were arrested and sentenced. Thanks to the pioneering work of Dr. Gabriella Effington, Mr. Lorenz asserts that he has been fully rehabilitated. Today’s objective is to evaluate Mr. Lorenz’s suitability for discharge. Are there any questions?”
One council member spoke up. “Yes. Mr. Lorenz, how do you currently feel about your actions with the militia?”
Bill sat up straight in his seat. He gave a brief moment of reflection before answering. “Well,” he began, “the judge told me at my sentencing that he hoped the thoughts of my victims stay with me till the day I died. And I think about them every day. My activities with that group of terrorist…and they were terrorist…was misguided. My parents were gone at an early age and all I had was my grandfather. The only things I knew of the world was what he showed me. He lived in a small world with small ideas. He saw the future and only saw the end. But he was wrong. That’s not an excuse, I take full responsibility for my actions. But I thank the powers that be for living in a future that gives me a second chance. Most people in history were never given that opportunity. So to answer your question, I feel nothing but shame in regards to my time with the militia. I had misplaced anger that I projected onto the world. Thanks to the efforts of this facility, and Dr. Effington in particular, I’ve realized that about myself and I will do everything in my power to remedy my past and contribute to this brave new society.”
***
“I would say I’m gonna miss our exchanges,” Dr. Effington said.
“I bet you would,” Bill replied.
“But with your discharge, I take comfort in knowing I did my job well,” she continued.
Bill finished cleaning out his cell. He picked up his box of goods and walked towards Dr. Effington. “I suppose you did, doctor,” he replied, “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Contribute to society…and don’t come back here again,” she said.
“I see,” Bill nodded, “please walk with me.”
Dr. Effington walked along side Bill as he carried his large box of personal belongings down the corridor. For the first time in years, he out of the jumpsuit and in his outdated civilian clothes. “I think I might miss this place,” Bill said as they strolled past the cafeteria.
“That’s not the intention,” Effington replied.
“I know, but I met some good friends here.”
Bill stopped by Sappy’s cell. “Sappy,” he said, “I think I might owe you one.” But Sappy continued to sit there silently with his usual shit-eating grin.
Finally the two approached the front gate. Bill signed his remaining discharge papers and Dr. Effington signaled to have the gates opened. In the cool Colorado air, the Doctor and the former inmate stood outside the prison walls. Bill sat the box on the ground and lit up a cigarette.
“Will anyone be here to pick you up?” Dr. Effington asked.
“Soon,” Bill said, “but like I said, doctor, I don’t know how to thank you. I didn’t realize until this Christmas how alone I was in this world. Everyone I know is either dead, in prison, or want nothing to do with me.”
“I promise you will find loved ones on the outside,” she replied.
Bill shook his head. “No,” he said, “there’s nothing for me out here.” He then flicked his cigarette away. “You see doctor,” he continued, “I know what you…what all of you…were trying to do to me in there. I appreciate it, I really do. But that’s not reality. This world, this new society, I just don’t get it. I have no friends. Just enemies.”
Bill then pulled out his leather-handled knife, complete with the shank stolen off of Sappy which was now fully sharpened. “I’m sorry doctor, but there’s only one form of intimacy that gets me off,” he said.
He then thrusted the knife into Dr. Effington’s side. Blood gushed out of her and she collapsed to the ground.
During Bill Lorenz’s autopsy, after being shot down by the guards, it was determined that he ejaculated moments before death.
Sometimes artists create things that drive them insane. For me, this is one of those things.
This might be my last short story for awhile. I’m about to begin one of the many other side projects that may or may not see the light of day. But the important thing is there’s about to be shit posts galore here.
So here’s the conclusion to Merry Christmas, Mr. Lorenz.
“I would say I’m gonna miss our exchanges,” Dr. Effington said.
“I bet you would,” Bill replied.
“But with your discharge, I take comfort in knowing I did my job well,” she continued.
Bill finished cleaning out his cell. He picked up his box of goods and walked towards Dr. Effington. “I suppose you did, doctor,” he replied, “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Contribute to society…and don’t come back here again,” she said.
“I see,” Bill nodded, “please walk with me.”
Dr. Effington walked along side Bill as he carried his large box of personal belongings down the corridor. For the first time in years, he out of the jumpsuit and in his outdated civilian clothes. “I think I might miss this place,” Bill said as they strolled past the cafeteria.
“That’s not the intention,” Effington replied.
“I know, but I met some good friends here.”
Bill stopped by Sappy’s cell. “Sappy,” he said, “I think I might owe you one.” But Sappy continued to sit there silently with his usual shit-eating grin.
Finally the two approached the front gate. Bill signed his remaining discharge papers and Dr. Effington signaled to have the gates opened. In the cool Colorado air, the Doctor and the former inmate stood outside the prison walls. Bill sat the box on the ground and lit up a cigarette.
“Will anyone be here to pick you up?” Dr. Effington asked.
“Soon,” Bill said, “but like I said, doctor, I don’t know how to thank you. I didn’t realize until this Christmas how alone I was in this world. Everyone I know is either dead, in prison, or want nothing to do with me.”
“I promise you will find loved ones on the outside,” she replied.
Bill shook his head. “No,” he said, “there’s nothing for me out here.” He then flicked his cigarette away. “You see doctor,” he continued, “I know what you…what all of you…were trying to do to me in there. I appreciate it, I really do. But that’s not reality. This world, this new society, I just don’t get it. I have no friends. Just enemies.”
Bill then pulled out his leather-handled knife, complete with the shank stolen off of Sappy which was now fully sharpened. “I’m sorry doctor, but there’s only one form of intimacy that gets me off,” he said.
He then thrusted the knife into Dr. Effington’s side. Blood gushed out of her and she collapsed to the ground.
During Bill Lorenz’s autopsy, after being shot down by the guards, it was determined that he ejaculated moments before death.
I don’t know why you guys make me write this smut. I don’t know anything about sex. I’m Mormon for fuck’s sake! I don’t even touch my penis in the shower!
So just remember: if you get uncomfortable reading this portion of the story, it’s your fault. You MADE me write this.
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lorenz (Part X)
Dr. Effington noticed Bill on the couch, buck ass naked, as she walked into her office. “I’m ready to do this, doctor,” he said.
“I see,” she stuttered as she stared at his erect appendage, “well, uh, what are you wanting to discuss today?”
“Well,” Bill replied, “I want to take the final steps towards rehabilitation, in whatever way you see fit of course.”
“Are you ready for that?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Dr. Effington smiled slightly, nodded, then stripped down completely naked in full view of Bill. She sat down in her usual chair cross legged. “Talk to me,” she ordered.
“What turns you on?”
She looked at him from across the room over the rim of her glasses. “Honesty,” she replied, “intelligence…kindness.”
“Do you think I’m a kind man?”
She started to feel up her left breast. “I seem to think so,” she said, “do you think you are?”
Bill began stroking himself. “No. I don’t think I am at all.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You said you liked honesty, doctor,” Bill replied, “so I’m just being honest.”
Still cross legged, Dr. Effington began feeling herself between her legs. “Do you think that this will get you out of here?” she asked.
“I absolutely do.”
The two sat there, mouths agape, as they pleasured themselves. Finally, Dr. Effington spoke up. “You’ll have to wear a condom,” she said.
“Understood.”
After she tossed him a contraceptive, Bill quickly unwrapped it and stretched it over his part. “Do you need anymore assistance?” he asked.
“I absolutely do,” she replied as she uncrossed her legs. Bill then went down to his knees and placed his mouth onto her genitalia. But he found her exaggerated moans amusing. Bill knew he was no good at oral sex as he only performed it a handful of times.
“Fuck me, please,” Dr. Effington ordered. He had never heard her use such language. Nevertheless he bent her over the chair and took her from behind.
Although she squealed with pleasure the entire time, Bill suspected she was faking. Finally, as Dr. Effington rode him cowgirl in the chair, she appeared to climax. The two held each other for a minute before they ever uttered a word. “Are you good?” she asked as she ran her fingers over his lips.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you, doctor,” he replied.
“Then I declare you rehabilitated,” she said.
Bill rested limp inside her for another few minutes before she got up and dressed. “I can’t begin to tell you how happy this makes me, Mr. Lorenz,” the doctor said as she put on her bra, “please get dressed and I’ll begin the paperwork for the discharge board.”
Bill took a deep breath, nodded, and began dressing. Dr. Effington got on the phone with the board while he quietly went to a corner of her office to remove the condom.
He then dumped the empty cumless rubber into the trash can.
People ask me all the time: what’s your worst story?
And the answer is the story you’re about to read…Dr. Si. It’s poorly written, the jokes don’t land, and the character motivations make zero fucking sense (much like an actual James Bond story).
Some background though: the last “Detective James from LA” story I posted was The Man with the Golden Eye, which was the second in the series. While Dr. Sí, for all intents and purposes, is a direct sequel to that story, it’s actually the fourth in the series. Magnum Enforcer, the third entry in the Detective James saga, is actually a banger that I might republish here at another time. But you really only need to know two things from Magnum Enforcer: it introduces the Korth .357 magnum WHICH James uses to senselessly kill the villain at a Chucky Cheese in the story’s conclusion, plus Mr. Ree is formally introduced (although he’s in the first two stories)
However, knowing that information prolly won’t change a thing because this story’s still a piece a shit.
Dr. Si
“I’m Amish now,” I said to Admiral Majors and Izzy. “I don’t believe in violence anymore.”
“You mean to tell me we drove all the way to Pennsylvania from Los Angeles just for you to say you’ve taken a vow to never kill again,” the Admiral asked.
“Yes. I killed a man in cold blood. Not out of justice,” I replied. “I felt pure hatred. And I hope to never feel that again. That’s not God’s way.”
“The man you killed was a bent cop AND a serial killer. Fuck that guy!”
“No,” I said. “You see this,” I pointed over to the wide green pastures. Off in the distance, Amish brethren were erecting a barn. “This is God’s way. Hard work and community. That’s what will get us to heaven.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this bullshit,” the Admiral replied. “So you wanna play hardball eh? Fine. $2 million. I am offering you $2 million of tax payer money to join my force. One of our top nuclear scientists have gone missing, and we have reason to suspect that the Ionian Liberation Front is behind it. You’ve dealt with those guys before. If you change your mind, you know where to reach me.”
The Admiral stormed off. Izzy bashfully stood around.
“What’s her name,” she asked.
“Miriam,” I replied. “She’s a good woman. She’ll make an excellent mother.”
“I’m happy for you,” she said. “I’m seeing someone too. I gave Admiral Majors a hand job on drive over here. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.”
“I wish you two the best of luck.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Goodbye James.”
“Goodbye Izzy.”
After I finished tending to the cattle, I washed off the bull semen then went to the homestead for supper. Miriam served me up a plate of beans and cornbread.
Miriam was a plain and simple Amish woman. We married during the fall harvest. Her father was Ezekiel, one of the community leaders. He was generous enough to take me in.
“Didist thou havest a good day,” she asked.
“I did Miriam. This is a well-earned supper after an honest day’s work.”
“The Lord hath blessed us. I am pregnant with child.”
“This is swell news indeed. The community with rejoice at the announcement.”
We smiled and held hands while we sat around the fireplace. I was loading tobacco into my pipe when Ezekiel stopped by.
“The Lord has brought forth good news,” I told him. “Miriam is pregnant with child.”
“Praise the Lord indeed,” he replied. “I am going to be a grandfather.”
The two of us went to the porch to watch the sunset. I took a match to the pipe. “So what brings you by Ezekiel,” I asked.
“I’m afraid Brother Peter is not doing well,” he said. “He won’t likely survive through the night.”
“That’s a shame. Miriam and I shall pray on it.”
“Unfortunately, I bring more bad news. Bandits have returned and stole four more chickens. We don’t have the funds to replace them. I’m afraid that we are having trouble feeding the children and the harvest isn’t bringing what we need. Times are hard indeed.”
“The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away,” I said.
“I wish someone would do something about these bandits. They have drained all of our resources for the winter,” Ezekiel said.
I puffed on the pipe and rocked in the chair. “I’m sure the Lord will provide.”
That night I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned. I sat up and kissed Miriam on the forehead while she peacefully slept.
I grabbed a shovel and hid behind the chicken coup while I waited for the bandits. I heard twigs snapping and bushes rustling. They were close.
“Stop right there or I’ll bash your head in,” I told the two bandits.
They laughed. “You’re Amish,” they said. “You can’t hurt us.”
“Grab my cock and find out,” I replied, referring to the rooster.
We had a stare down. I waited for one of them to make a move. One went for his pistol and I smashed the shovel right on his dick.
“My dick,” he yelled.
The other one leapt at me and I knocked his clean off his shoulders. Blood sprayed all over the coup. I went over to the other man laying on the ground.
“Don’t kill me,” he yelled. But I smashed the shovel right into his guts.
I buried the bodies deep in the woods.
I took the shovel and began digging behind the barn. Out of the dirt I pulled out an old oak box.
Inside the box: the Korth 357 magnum.
***
“I’m sorry Miriam,” I said before I departed for Washington. “I’m doing this for the money. I must save our Amish community.”
We exchanged goodbyes and I rode my horse and buggy down to Washington DC to rendezvous with Admiral Majors at the Pentagon.
“I knew you couldn’t refuse my offer,” the Admiral said. “Now take off that Amish bullshit. You’re a colonel in the Army now.”
I donned my uniform and saluted the Admiral. “Welcome to the Kill Force,” he said.
We boarded a plane and flew to The Hague. “What’s this about,” I asked the Admiral.
“We’re going to meet with Angelika Antoluktokoloplos. She knows the whereabouts of our missing nuclear scientist. Right now, she’s standing trial for war crimes.”
Angelika: my former nemesis turned ally during the Franco De Werner case.
Izzy flew along with us. Her and the Admiral were now married. “The President married us. We had the wedding on the White House lawn. You should have been there,” she said. She was trying to make me jealous.
“I’m so happy for you Izzy,” I replied.
Also on the flight was none other than Mr. Ree. “Well as I live in breath,” I told him. “I thought you died back in Los Angeles.”
He laughed. “No, I had an increased blood flow from that massive erection while I was pretending to be a prostitute. That’s what saved me. Thank god for viagra,” he said as he was popping viagra. “Now I always walk around with a boner.”
Me and Mr. Ree shared a few drinks at the airplane bar. “Keep the martinis coming,” I told the bartender.
“I heard you turned Amish,” Mr. Ree said.
“I’m a new man now,” I replied. “I’m only doing this for the money.”
“You get paid to do this?”
We got rip roaring drunk at the bar. I couldn’t sleep on the flight. Mr. Ree gave me a Xanax.
That morning, the plane landed at The Hague. The Admiral, Izzy, Mr. Ree, and myself were escorted to the maximum security prison by a NATO officer, Maj. Jzerkov.
“Be warned,” Jzerkov said. “The prisoner is uncooperative, she hasn’t given up any information regarding the whereabouts of the Ionian Liberation Front.”
“Just take us to her,” the Admiral said.
Angelika was locked up in a 3×3 glass box, chained to a chair. “Why is she nude sir,” I asked Jzerkov. “To prevent suicide,” he replied. “These terrorists will stop at nothing to avoid answering for their crimes.”
“Well well well,” Angelika said. “If it isn’t the Admiral and his lap dog. It’s Private Detective James from Los Angeles, isn’t it?”
“It’s Colonel James now,” I replied.
“Where’s our missing nuclear scientist, Ms. Antelukolpolous,” the Admiral asked.
“Why should I tell you anything?”
The Admiral took me and Jzerkov aside. “Release her into my custody,” he told Jzerkov.
“This is highly irregular Admiral! She’s standing trial,” Jzerkov replied.
“Look, I need a bargaining chip.”
Jzerkov thought for a second. “Alright, Admiral,” he responded. “But you owe me one.”
The Admiral nodded and went back to interrogating Angelika. “Okay Ms. Anolupolokolopos,” he said. “We are prepared to cut you a deal: charges will be dropped and you will be released into my custody….IF…if….you provide us any information. Just a name will suffice.”
Angelika sat back in her seat and smiled. “If you plan on going after the Ionian Liberation Front, you better bring bigger guns.”
“Angelika, please cooperate,” I said.
“Alright,” she responded. “You want a name, here’s a name. The man who kidnapped your highly esteem scientist is none other than…,” she gave a long pause.
“Dr. Sí”
***
Angelika was loaded onto the plane, strapped to a dolly like she was Hannibal Lector. Maj. Jzerkov was generous enough to give her a jumpsuit.
This time, the plane was bound for Hawaii, the last known location of the nuclear scientist and Dr. Si.
“Are we getting drunk on the plane again,” Mr. Ree asked.
“Damn right we are!”
Admiral Majors joined us at the bar. He was to brief us on our mission.
“The rest of the Kill Squad will join us in Honolulu,” the Admiral said. “Sgt. Private, Captain Corporal, and Lieutenant Sargent have been fully briefed on the situation.”
“Maybe I’ve been too drunk to pay attention,” I said. “But what is our mission?”
“I thought it was obvious,” the Admiral replied. “Retrieve the scientist and kill all the bad guys. How complicated do you want this to get?”
“What about Dr. Sí? What will we do if we capture him?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
After drinks, I went to the cargo bay to talk with Angelika. I dismissed the guards and removed her mask.
“Can you remove the straps please,” she asked. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I unstrapped her from the dolly and watched her closely while she used the toilet.
“Does this turn you on,” she asked.
It kinda did but I played it cool. “Just making sure you don’t escape,” I replied.
“Where am I gonna go? We’re on a plane.”
I didn’t reply. She wiped and flushed the toilet. “Gonna wash your hands,” I asked.
“Why? I didn’t shit on my hands. So what do you want to talk to me about?”
“What’s the deal with Dr. Sí? Why is he so important?”
“This technology he possesses, you couldn’t possibly imagine its power.”
“A nuclear weapon?”
“No. Something more powerful.”
“What could be more powerful than a nuclear weapon?”
“You have a small imagination.”
I scratched my head. Maybe I was too drunk to have this conversation. “Well what does he want with a nuclear scientist,” I asked.
“Nuclear power can be used for other things than just weapons.”
“Care to divulge?”
“Set me free from this cargo bay and I’ll tell you everything.”
“I’ll have to discuss that with the Admiral. He’s particularly concerned about the….”
I turned around for a second and Angelika leapt at me with a makeshift knife (that she presumably snuck in up her ass (or vagina)). I was quick enough to grab her arm and throw her to the ground.
I laid on top of her for a brief moment. We stared into each other’s eyes while I restrained her, my mouth inches from hers. We were both aroused by the sudden burst of action.
The guards rushed in when they heard the commotion. “I got the situation under control,” I told them.
I stood up and ordered the guards to strap her back to the dolly. “Our conversation is done here,” I said. “I’m gonna go jack of…er, I mean, get a Jack. A Jack and Coke. I’m gonna go get drunk.”
But I didn’t go to the bar. I rushed to my cabin to beat off.
***
The Kill Squad met us at Honolulu Airport. While we were unloading in the hangar, Sgt. Private, Lt. Corporal, and Cpt. Sargent gawked at Angelika.
“I’d like to stick my penis into her vagina, if you know what I mean ,” said Sgt. Private.
I bashed him in the face with the butt of my rifle. “Watch your mouth. Ms. Antolonolupolopolos is under our protection. She is our guest and you will treat her as such.”
“Enough,” the Admiral said. He walked over to Sgt. Private, pulled out a 9mm, and shot him in the head.
“Jesus Christ,” I yelled.
“I will not tolerate insubordination in this unit,” the Admiral said. “Lt. Corporal, Cpt. Sargent…get rid of the body.”
I walked over to Mr. Ree. “Does the Admiral usually shoot people for insubordination,” I asked.
“Oh yeah! All the time. Don’t worry about it.”
Afterwards, the entire squad, plus Angelika and Izzy, was airlifted by helicopter to a remote location in the jungle…on the other side of Diamond Head. We set up headquarters in a small hut where we planned our excursion.
The Admiral laid out a map on the table. “Dr. Sí and the scientist were last seen at this location,” he said while pointing to a spot on the map. “I believe they’re now here,” he continued while pointing at a different spot. “Do you agree, Colonel?”
“Sure,” I replied. “Why not?”
“Good. We will head out at 0600 tomorrow morning. Load up on extra ammo,” he said to the group. “We’re bound to run into some resistance.”
The squad retreated to their huts around the camp. I ran into Izzy on my way out.
“The Admiral is a great guy, isn’t he,” she asked.
“He’s a crazy asshole. I’ll say that much.”
I noticed that she had a black eye. “You know Izzy,” I said. “If you ever need to talk about anything, you can come to me.”
“Oh, this black eye,” she asked. “This is nothing. We get a little carried away in the bedroom.”
“Well be careful,” I replied. “No choking stuff. I learned that one the hard way.”
Meanwhile, Cpt. Sargent was harassing Angelika in her hut. An explosive collar was placed around her neck in the event she tried to flee or attacked someone in the group.
“If you don’t leave Angelika alone,” I said to Cpt. Sargent, “I’m gonna place that collar around YOUR neck.”
He glared at me as he left her hut.
“I don’t need your protection James. I can take care of myself,” she said.
“I think you do. Any one of us can detonate that collar if you put up a fight. Some men here might take advantage of that.”
I took a seat while she sat up on her cot. I decided to take the first watch.
“The Admiral is gonna get you killed,” she said.
“Probably. But he’s paying me well. That money will help my wife and Amish community.”
“You have a wife? And you’re Amish?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“You’re not my type.”
“Is it because I’m Amish?”
“Just don’t get yourself killed on my behalf.”
We bantered for awhile. She fell asleep and unfortunately I did too.
Later that night, men snuck into the camp. They hooded, muzzled, and kidnapped Angelika and me. When the hood was lifted from my head, I was in a laboratory.
Angelika was nowhere to be found.
They placed me on my knees, hands bound behind me. Even worse, the explosive collar was now around my neck.
A man in a white lab coat walked in front me and lowered himself to my face.
“Hello James,” he said. “I’m Dr. Sí.”
***
“Well shits assholes,” I said to Dr. Sí. “We’ve been looking for you. I guess the search is over! Can I go now?”
“Not so fast,” he responded. “I need to know where your Kill Squad is going.”
“First I want to know what happened to Angelika,” I demanded.
“Fair enough,” he said. Then Dr. Sí turned to the corner of the laboratory. “Angelika, come join us.”
Angelika stepped out, all dolled up with her red hair flowing down to her shoulders. “Sorry James,” she said. “You’re not my type because Dr. Sí is my type.”
The two kissed passionately in front of me.
“I do want to thank you, Colonel James, for returning her to me,” Dr. Sí said.
“Hey, not a problem,” I replied. “Can you return the favor by removing this explosive collar from around my neck? Once when they realize Angelika’s missing, this thing will blow my head off.”
“First, where is the Kill Squad going?”
“They’re probably coming here!”
“We are certainly not at where they are going.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
The doctor turned around and looked at a computerized map of the Hawaiian islands. “I am a man of science, colonel. In order for my experiments to work, I need EXACT measurements. I cannot afford unpredictability. So again…where is the Kill Squad going?”
I was running out of time. The collar was going to detonate at any moment. Then I remembered…
“$2 million,” I said.
“$2 million?”
“Yes, $2 million and I give up the coordinates of the Kill Squad plus any other state secrets you want in order to sweeten the deal,“ I replied.
I was bluffing about the state secrets part. I didn’t know shit.
“$1 million,” Dr. Sí responded.
“Deal. The coordinates are 113.998N 737.746W. Now get this collar off of me!”
Dr. Sí laughed and ordered the guards to remove the collar. “Thank you for your cooperation colonel,” he said. “But as an insurance policy, I’ll place this collar on one of your acquaintances.”
The guards rolled in Mr. Ree, strapped to an upright gurney.
“They kidnapped me too,” Mr. Ree said. “Can you believe that bullshit?”
“Ohh come on,” I said. “Don’t kill Mr. Ree! He’s cool! Besides, that thing will detonate before the squad reaches its destination!”
“That’s just a chance I’m willing to take,” Dr. Sí replied.
“Look, I don’t give a damn about Admiral Majors or the Kill Squad. But there’s a woman that’s traveling with them: Izzy. Please don’t kill her,” I pleaded.
“Colonel, relax,” he said. “I’m not looking to kill anyone, except for Mr. Ree over there. I just want to see that thing go off.”
“I don’t understand.”
Dr. Sí put his arm around my shoulders and started walking me around the laboratory. “I understand your confusion. You see, has anyone told you the truth about that missing nuclear scientist?”
“To be honest doctor, for this entire mission, I’ve kinda been asleep at the wheel. I don’t even know that scientists’ name.”
“Ah, let me show you.”
Dr. Sí opened a door and out walked an old man in a lab coat. I think I was supposed to be impressed by this.
“I don’t know who this is,” I said.
“That’s J. Robert Oppenheimer.”
“Who?”
“J. Robert Op…the father of the atomic bomb?! What are you? Some kind of fucking moron?”
“You cloned him?”
“No asshole! I brought him from the past into the future! Don’t you get it yet? I invented time travel!!”
I walked up to Oppenheimer and looked him up and down. “Welcome to the future,” I told him. “We killed Hitler.”
“I know that, dumbass,” he replied. “We should have dropped the bomb on him!”
I looked back over to Dr. Sí. “So what? You invented time travel. Big whoop. How can you use that against the Kill Squad?”
“That’s why I brought my friend Oppenheimer to the present. You see, we created a new kind of weapon: a time weapon.”
“That sounds pretty fucking stupid, Dr. Sí,” I said. “How can you weaponize time?”
“Well you see, if you can triangulate the space time continuum, the quantum field fluctuations will…”
“Okay, sorry I asked,” I interrupted. “That science shit is boring. Cut to the chase. What’s gonna happen to the Kill Squad?”
“I will fire a plasma energy weapon at their coordinates. When the weapon reaches them, it will generate a quantum field around them and they will be transported to a different time and place.”
“My god,” I said. “A non-destructive weapon. You’re a genius Dr. Sí.”
“So you’re not a complete fucking idiot after all,” he replied. “It is far more humane than the nuclear weapons of the last 80 years. Imagine: no more nuclear fallout, no more mass death…we simply transport our enemies to a different time, different place.”
I looked around the laboratory…at all the scientists running around, to Oppenheimer, to Angelika, and then over to Mr. Ree.
“I cannot deny your genius, Dr. Si,” I said. “But it appears that the only one in danger here is Mr. Ree. If you’re really are humane, you’d remove that collar.”
Dr. Sí nodded. “I suppose you’re right, Colonel.” He looked to the guards. “Remove the collar.”
The guards walked over to the gurney and removed the collar. As they were about to dispose of it, it detonated, killing and maiming several of them.
Out of the confusion, Oppenheimer attacked one of the guards, grabbing his machine gun.
“Put down the gun Oppenheimer,” Dr. Sí said.
“No,” he replied. “You’ve been holding me hostage here. I’m not your puppet!”
“But Bob,” Dr. Sí pleaded. “We’ve been building something special here. Don’t you want to finish our work?”
“No! No more weapons!”
More guards rushed into the room, forcing Oppenheimer to drop his gun.
“Sorry Bob,” Dr. Sí said. “It appears your time is up.”
Mr. Ree was released from the gurney. The two of us were ordered to raise our hands and were rounded up with Oppenheimer.
“Lock these scum up,” Dr. Sí ordered.
***
“This is science gone haywire,” J. Robert Oppenheimer said. “I should have never agreed to help Dr. Sí.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said to him. “We’ll get you out of here and back to your own time.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he replied.
“Sure it does. It’s science! Anything is possible.”
“We can’t just go ‘back in time’. Doing so would violate all sorts of Newton’s laws. When the quantum field is generated, the individual is transported to an alternate timeline. The laws of physics remain the same and the outcomes in these timelines might be similar to our own, but it’s not the same timeline. Am I making sense?”
“Nope,” I replied. “But we’ll get you as close to your timeline as humanly possible.”
“Forget it,” Oppenheimer replied. “Our best option is to disarm the weapon to prevent this from happening again.”
“How do we do that?”
“There’s a special property in the element of gold that penetrates through space and time. If the gold is removed from the nano chambers, the weapon would be powerless.”
“Sounds like a plan Bob.” I looked over to Mr. Ree. “Do you think the Kill Squad will alter course and find us?”
“I doubt it,” Mr. Ree said. “I don’t even know where we’re at.”
“We’re at the bottom of a dormant volcano,” Oppenheimer said. “They’ll never find us.”
“Shit,” I said. “Then we have to take matters into our own hands. We just need an opportunity.”
Angelika then peered through the opening of our cell door. “James,” she said, “just hold tight, I’m gonna get you out of here.”
“Angelika,” I replied, “I thought you were with Dr. Sí.”
She then reached her hand through the opening to touch my own. “Dr. Sí is no friend of the Ionian Liberation Front. He’s no friend of peace and justice. I don’t want this technology to fall into the wrong hands.”
“Get us out of here and we’ll destroy it,” I said.
“No! Think about it James. With this weapon, we can right all the wrongs. We can undo our violent past and create a better future.”
“I don’t know Angelika.”
“Please, I’ll get you out of here. But let me have the weapon.”
I thought for a second and agreed to her terms. Then she grasped my hand tightly.
“What’s your wife’s name?” she asked.
“Miriam”
“She’s a lucky woman. Perhaps in another time….”
She let go of my hand and closed the opening. I heard some rustling outside, then a few gunshots. After a few moments, the cell door blasted open.
Angelika walked across the rubble wearing a skintight leather suit and holding a Heckler & Koch M27.
“Alright boys,” she said. “Let’s blow the top off this volcano.”
***
We stole guns off some guards that Angelika brutally murdered and ran down the corridor.
“The time weapon is is being held three floors above us,” Angelika said.
We began to feel tremors all around us. I asked Angelika the last time this volcano erupted.
“About 25,000 years ago,” she said.
“Then this thing could go off at any moment. We better hurry.”
We went down the corridors and up the stairs in an attack formation. Angelika and I covered the front. Mr. Ree and Oppenheimer covered the rear.
When we reached the room holding the time weapon, the Kill Squad…along with Izzy….was there. They altered course and stormed into the volcano earlier in a bloody, devastating firefight. Not many survived.
“Thank goodness you’re alive,” the Admiral said. “And you found J. Robert Oppenheimer. Excellent work. Lt. Captain, please dispose of the scientist.”
Lt. Captain cocked his pistol and raised it up to Oppenheimer’s head.
I raised my rifle to Lt. Captain.
“Pull that trigger and you’re dead,” I told him.
“But Colonel James,” the Admiral said, “this time travel stuff is against the laws of God. We must destroy all of the evidence.”
“No,” I said. “Oppenheimer has as much right to exist as the rest of us.”
Dr. Sí then rushed in with his guards. “Well well,” he said. “Glad you’re all here.”
We were surrounded. We dropped our weapons.
Dr. Sí walked up to the Admiral. “I’m happy to see you’re doing well Admiral,” he said.
“This ends today doctor,” the Admiral replied.
“I think not,” he replied.
Dr. Sí walked over to a control panel. In a corner across the room, the floor moved, revealing a lava pit.
“I’m sorry Admiral,” the doctor said. “But you can’t go where we’re going.”
The guards grabbed the Admiral and pushed him towards the pit. “You’ll never get away with this,” he yelled.
“Of course I will. I control time! Think about the possibilities Admiral! We could have taken over the world. You never understood that.”
“Izzy, don’t let them do this,” the Admiral screamed. She walked over to him and the guards.
“You’re one abusive son of a bitch,” she said. Izzy then roundhouse kicked him into the fiery pit. When the screams stopped and the flames died down, Izzy turned around.
“Can I go home now,” she asked. “I didn’t want to be here anyway.”
“I’m sorry madam,” Dr. Sí replied. “I cannot let anyone leave here alive.”
“So what happens now? This volcano will erupt at any moment,” I asked.
“Exactly Colonel. In a few moments, I will time travel out of here and this volcano will erupt, destroying the evidence.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Angelika said. Dr. Sí walked up to her, grabbed her hair and put his lips on her.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us,” he said. “I gotta go.”
He went back to the panel and a countdown started. A laser dropped down from the ceiling which would release a plasma field around its target, triggering a spacetime ripple that would permit time travel.
“Before I forget,” Dr. Sí said to me, “here’s the $1 million I owe you. Where I’m going, this money is no good.”
He threw a metal briefcase as my feet.
“Alright,” the doctor said, “let’s get this bullshit over with.”
The laser then fired out a beam, creating the field around Sí. While the guards were mesmerized by the sight, Oppenheimer ran into the field, pushing the doctor out.
There was a bright flash of light, then Oppenheimer was gone…lost somewhere in time.
“You fool!” Dr. Sí yelled.
Out of the confusion, Angelika attacked the guards and took a gun. She began spraying bullets across the room. I picked up the briefcase and ran for cover.
I grabbed a rifle from a dead guard and began shielding Izzy. Mr. Ree then engaged in the firefight.
When all the guards were dead, Angelika threw down her semi-automatic and grabbed Dr. Sí. He tried to put up a fight.
“Angelika!” he screamed. “This volcano will go off any second. We don’t have time for this!”
“Time’s up bitch!” she said. Then she threw him into the lava pit. A large flame shot up in the air.
Meanwhile, Mr. Ree was monitoring communications between guards over the radio. “Reinforcements will be here in a minute,” he said.
I handed the briefcase to Izzy. “Make sure Miriam gets this,” I told her.
We shared one last look. “Mr. Ree and I will give you cover while you escape,” I said. “Angelika, go with her.”
“But I didn’t get the weapon,” Angelika responded.
“Let it go,” I said. “You can save humanity without it.”
I reached out my hand to hers and we looked deep into each other’s eyes. “Goodbye Angelika.”
She gave a pause. “Goodbye James,” she said.
Izzy and Angelika, along with a few surviving members of the Kill Squad, ran back down the corridor. The tremors were beginning to pick up.
Mr. Ree and I stood behind the control panel, waiting for reinforcements to arrive. “Ready to go where no man’s gone before,” I asked him.
He put a cigar in his mouth. “You’re reading my mind.”
As guards were pouring into the room, Mr. Ree provided cover while I fiddled with the controls. The laser pointed in our direction and released a beam. The field surrounded us.
Where…or when…we were going, only God knew.
Then there was a brilliant flash of light….
*********
Izzy, Angelika, and the Kill Squad made it out of the volcano just as it erupted. As they watched the explosion from a safe distance, Izzy turned to Angelika.
“Do you think they’re dead?”
Angelika looked to the ash cloud hovering over the jungle. She thought for a moment.
“No,” she replied. “They’re out there…somewhere in time….”
“I can’t believe they granted you a conjugal room,” Susan said.
Bill was busy setting the candle light and pouring wine. “And they gave me alcohol too,” he replied, “maybe things aren’t so bad.”
Susan pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked him square in the eye. “I’m not having sex with you, Bill,” she said, “besides, I’m already seeing someone.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because it’s John.”
Bill looked down at the ground and shook his head. “Goddamn it,” he uttered.
“There was no good way to tell you,” Susan said.
Bill walked over to the window then glanced at the small Christmas tree in the corner. “Well Merry Christmas to me,” he replied.
“But I did bring you a gift,” Susan said as she dug through her bag. She pulled out a picture of him and his grandfather at Mount Hood some 15 years earlier. “I know that this was the last picture of your grandpa before he passed,” she continued.
Bill took the photograph and turned his back on Susan. He was silent as he recalled the memory of that day. After several awkward seconds, Bill spoke up. “I haven’t seen this picture since the day it was taken.”
Susan said nothing.
Then Bill turned around. “Why John?” he asked. “Don’t you two have a history? Isn’t the government watching you two like a hawk?”
“Maybe,” she replied, “but I don’t care. I think we always had feelings for each other.”
“But you guys aren’t up to the same old shit again? You just got out of prison for Christ sake!”
“I don’t think I should discuss this with you right now.”
“You are! Fuck. I hope they don’t have this room bugged!”
Susan threw up her arms. “Let’s drop it,” she yelled, “I was hoping this would be a happy visit. But obviously you’re not mature enough for this conversation.”
Bill began drinking directly from the wine bottle. “I guess not,” he replied.
The two uttered nothing for a few minutes. Finally, Susan stood up. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back,” she said, “you seeing me probably isn’t good for your rehabilitation.”
Bill didn’t reply.
“I wish you luck in the future,” she continued, “when you’re released, if you know what’s good for you, please don’t reach out to me. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
Susan knocked, then a prison guard unlocked the door and let her out. Before she exited, she turned around. “Merry Christmas, Bill,” she said, then departed.
Bill held the bottle of wine in one hand, and the photograph in the other. Then the prison guard stepped in the room. “You still have access to this room for a few more hours,” the guard said, “do you wish to stay here?”
“No,” Bill replied, “please take me back to the cell.”
“Do you care to say anything?” Dr. Effington asked.
Bill scratched his head as he gazed at his psychologist’s nude body. She sat cross-legged directly in front of him as he looked upon her torso. He still didn’t believe what he was seeing.
“This is a little weird for me, doc,” he finally uttered.
“I understand that,” Effington replied, “but let’s discuss your relationships.”
“My relationships?”
“Yes. Your romantic ones perhaps?”
Bill chuckled. “That’s irrelevant,” he said, “now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to return to my cell.”
Dr. Effington shifted in her seat. She quickly uncrossed her legs, briefly exposing her herself before placing one leg over the other. “Please make this work, Mr. Lorenz,” she said, “now, what can you tell me about Susan? Were you ever romantically involved with her?”
Bill began to sweat a little. “Ummm, I don’t think I’m prepared to talk about that just yet,” he stuttered.
“Fair enough. Did you have any other partners?”
“Ehh, not many.”
“Why is that?”
Dr. Effington was holding a pen at the corner of her mouth, drawing attention to her lips. Bill looked down to her bare feet, noticing her painted toe nails. This slightly aroused him as that provided a bit of color to what he though was her otherwise dry personality.
“Well, umm, I guess that’s a good question. I suppose I was either too busy or didn’t think I was desirable enough,” he said.
“Did you always have a low sex drive?”
“Uhh, well…,” Bill then unzipped his jumpsuit and touched himself. “…I don’t think so.”
Dr. Effington began speaking in a slower, softer voice. “Why don’t you find yourself sexually desirable?” she asked.
“I…I guess I’ve always felt unwanted.”
“By whom?”
Bill started losing concentration as he continued to pleasure himself. “I don’t know. My family?” he said.
“Do you wish to explore that? Did you feel neglected by your mother, perhaps?”
As he began to near climax, Bill ignored the question entirely. “Doctor, can you please uncross your legs?” he requested.
“Not right now,” she said, “we still have to make it through this session.”
“Just let me touch you. Any part of you. Let me touch your knee.”
As he reached out, Bill’s heart monitor released several volts of energy, shocking him to the floor. He convulsed on the ground for a few seconds, then he vomited. A few nurses rushed in and helped him back to his seat.
“Mr. Lorenz, you were instructed to not touch me,” Dr. Effington said. Then she stood up and slipped on her long coat. “I hope you heed to that warning next time. But you’ve done well on your first session. When I see you again in a few days, I hope we can pick up where we left off. Good day.”
The nurses picked up Bill by the arms and carried him out of the office. After a quick physical examination, the nurses released him and Junior escorted him back to his cell.
“Forget it, Bill,” Susan said, “I’ve consulted with attorney after attorney and they’ve all said the same thing. Just play ball, take the treatment, and you’ll be released. The Reformed Department of Corrections will provide you with a job and assistance once when you’re released. And when you’re deemed fully rehabilitated, your criminal record will be expunged. It’s not like it once was.”
This was the first visit Susan paid to Bill in some months. The guards stood back while the two shared a table in the prison cafeteria. “That’s not the point,” Bill replied, “I’m being treated as a common criminal, which I’m not. What are they saying about me on the outside?”
Susan said nothing.
“That bad, huh?” Bill chuckled, “What happened to the world, Susan? Are we not allowed to be human anymore? This is everything we fought against!”
“We lost, Bill,” Susan said, “Sure it has taken time getting used to that. But I survived the rehabilitation process and things aren’t so bad on the outside. Some people know who I am and the things I’ve done, but everyone trusts the process. It’s like it doesn’t matter. I’m fully reintegrated.”
“You sold out, in other words.”
“Don’t be stupid, Bill.”
After a moment of awkward silence, Bill reached across the table and placed his hand on top of hers. “Did we ever fuck?” he asked.
Susan gave out a throaty laugh. “We got drunk and fooled around once or twice,” she said.
“Why didn’t we ever get together?”
“It would have never worked.”
“I know,” Bill lamented, “you were always too smart for me.”
“You were always preoccupied.”
“Now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life here. My loss.”
Susan stared into his eyes for a few moments while she clasped his hand. Finally, she stood up and straightened herself out. “I handed the package you requested off to the guards,” she said, “Goodbye, Bill.”
Bill exhaled. “So long, Susan.”
He watched her walk out through the gates and out of his life. Then the guards escorted him back to the cell.
Minutes later, Junior, the senior day shift guard, walked up to Bill’s door. “Good news Bill,” Junior said as he handed him Susan’s package, “I don’t know what you want with all this leather, but it cleared security. Because you’re not on suicide watch, it was approved by Dr. Effington. Of course, it can’t leave this cell. You will be checked each time.”
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