Zeke

by Wodke Hawkinson

  Lazlo did his best to thrust against the combined mass of Zeke and Mrs. Harrington, while Zeke worked from behind. Apparently, they did an acceptable job since Mrs. Harrington yipped with pleasure. Zeke held his own climax until Mrs. Harrington enjoyed hers. Then and only then would she give him permission to finish. And she did like to prolong things.

  When they were finally done, she dismissed Zeke and kept Lazlo in her bed. Zeke wondered if Lazlo was becoming her new favorite and decided he couldn’t care less.

  He was drowsy when he returned to his room and took a quick shower. He didn’t bother with his boxer shorts or his book, instead falling into sleep the minute he hit the soft mattress.

  Lessons in Lovemaking

  “You’re an approval-seeker, Susie,” Zeke said after she told him about how she’d had to rush to get an English report done on time. They were sitting in his van on a quiet residential street. “I’m not faulting you for it. You were raised that way; you have a lot to overcome.”

  “So was I supposed to not turn in my assignment?” Sue felt vaguely insulted. She had hurried to meet him after work, knowing he didn’t like to wait. He didn’t seem happy to see her.

  “What if you hadn’t? Why should you put yourself on someone else’s schedule, doing what someone else dictates? Why should you allow yourself to be treated like property? There are alternatives.” He tapped her forehead roughly with his finger. “You’ve got a better mind than that, Sue. Think.”

  “I can’t figure out what you want me to say.” She was confused.

  “I can’t tell you what to say. Then you would just be parroting me. If I wanted that, I would just listen to myself talk.” Zeke sounded frustrated. He shook his head slightly.

  “If I don’t turn in my assignments, I’ll fail my class.” Sue’s voice trembled slightly.

  “And what do you think about the methods used today to label, grade, and define every student’s identity, even their very worth, by attaching a meaningless letter to every tiny piece of writing they produce?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You do know. In fact, you are the one and only undisputed world-wide expert on the subject.”

  “I’m an expert on grading systems?”

  “No, you blockhead!” Zeke laughed. “You’re an expert on what you think. I asked you what you think. Remember?”

  “Oh.” She gave a nervous titter to hide the sting of his words and hoped he was joking.

  “Maybe we need to pick an easier task,” he said sarcastically. “How about you just take down your panties instead?”

  “I don’t think I want to.” Sue’s throat was tight with tears.

  “Fine then. I’ll take you back to your car. Maybe when you get out of your mood, you can call me.” He jammed the van into gear and drove recklessly back to the Re-Books parking lot where she had left her car. It was still early; not even twilight yet, and her evening was ruined.

  Zeke remained cold and didn’t tell her goodbye when he dropped her off. By the time she slid behind the wheel, harsh sobs were already working their way up from the pit of her stomach. Through the tears in her eyes, she watched Zeke drive away. She rolled the window down and let the hot air escape from the car. So miserable she could barely think straight, Sue drove home. She refused dinner, went up to her room, and cried herself to sleep.

  Zeke pulled into the driveway of Mrs. Harrington’s estate. Earlier, Mrs. Harrington had advised Zeke that he would be giving Lazlo a lesson in lovemaking, so he’d had to cut short his evening with Sue. He’d picked the fight deliberately so he could leave early, and it had put him in a foul mood. Lazlo already knew what to do, but Mrs. Harrington liked playing teacher, and he had no choice but to go along with her. Not if he wanted a place to live, that is.

  Slamming into the house, he ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and ducked into the bathroom.

  “Ezekiel,” Mrs. Harrington called. “Come on in here. We’re ready to begin.”

  Annoyed, Zeke knew he had to answer his keeper’s call. He had no choice but to respond. Leaning over the bathroom sink, he looked at his hair in the mirror. He bared his teeth, checking they were clean, then stepped back and slapped on some cologne.

  Entering the bedroom, he almost laughed at the sight of Lazlo sitting quietly in a chair in the corner. The man was nude, but shielded his privates with his hands, as if Zeke hadn’t seen his junk before.

  Mrs. Harrington was prone on the bed in a filmy robe that made her look ludicrous. Zeke shrugged. It could be worse. At least, she might tip him a twenty tonight. She was stingy with her resources, as she counted room and board, the tiny stipend she paid each month, and the privilege of pleasuring her as often as she needed, more than sufficient compensation.

  Zeke swaggered to the bed and parted her robe. Lazlo watched intently, his dark eyes glittering, but remained silent. Zeke couldn’t remember ever hearing the gardener speak. Just as well, Zeke was uninterested in anything he might say anyway.

  Zeke knew Mrs. Harrington did not require nor appreciate the kissing and cuddling most women craved, so he got right down to business. Mrs. Harrington kept up a running narration of every move he made, as if instructing Lazlo in a lost art. Whatever trips your trigger, Zeke thought. He felt like a performer in a documentary.

  “Now see, Lazlo,” she said between breaths. “That’s what I want. Just like Ezekiel did.”

  She continued to give directions to Lazlo as Zeke finished inside her. She then rolled him off of her.

  “You can go now.” Mrs. Harrington dismissed Zeke. He got up from the bed and walked toward the door.

  “Now you try,” she instructed Lazlo, who edged over to the bed and followed Zeke’s example with precision. Zeke smiled as he stepped from the room and closed the door.

  While Sue cried herself to sleep that night, Zeke swam slow laps in the backyard pool illuminated only by moonlight, his nude body sinuous, like a sleek animal. He was off duty now that Lazlo was on the job, and he could have gone to Sue. His angry mood had passed, but he thought it might be good for her to worry a little. His hands barely made a sound as he sliced through the water. At the end of each stroke, he took a deep breath of the warm night air. What a life, he thought.

  Sue answered the phone the next morning to hear Zeke’s voice. He didn’t mention the incident from the day before and Sue was relieved he was still speaking to her; although, she remained baffled by their argument.

  Robots to Serve the Collective

  “College degrees are only good for one thing,” Zeke declared, “and that’s to make the people who have them think they’re smarter than everyone else. That’s all you get for your hard-earned money. Hell, some of the stupidest people I know have gone to college.”

  “What about doctors, Zeke?” Sue asked dubiously. “Don’t you think they need some education?”

  “Well, yeah.” Zeke looked at her, surprised. “Sure they do. But, I’m not talking about doctors here. I’m talking about all those other bullshit degrees people get that don’t mean anything in the real world.”

  “I think I’ll need one to get a good job,” Sue said, her throat tight with unshed tears. He made her feel stupid for wanting an education. “They say you can’t get a good job without one.”

  “I know that’s what they say.” Zeke shook his head. “But just think, Sue. Right from the start, from the time we are little kids, we’re programmed. They call it education, I call it indoctrination. Turning us all into little robots to serve the collective. That’s the real reason for school. It’s not to make us smart; it’s designed to make us compliant. And there’s a big difference.”

  “Robots?” Sue ventured.

  “Let me ask you something,” Zeke said. “Did you like school when you were growing up?”

  “Not really that much.” In fact, she had hated it. “But, I don’t know that I was indoctrinated into anything. I don’t quite get that.”

  “I know, but y
ou will if you think hard,” Zeke assured her. “Wasn’t there even one time in your life when you did something in school that you thought was great, really great? But the teacher didn’t agree? Gave you a grade less than you deserved?”

  “Yes, actually, there was,” Sue said, contemplatively. “It was a long time ago, though. We were supposed to draw a rainy day. So my picture was a woman with her umbrella wrong side out, you know, because it was windy. The teacher told me my umbrella wasn’t right, and so it lowered my grade on the project. She told me umbrellas don’t look like that, and that I needed to pay closer attention to the things I draw. When I tried to explain it to her, she didn’t listen. So, I gave up.”

  “That’s a good example, bunny.” He smiled at her and her insides warmed pleasantly.

  Sue desperately wanted Zeke to think she was smart, cool, and edgy. Like him. The more he admired her, the less she remembered that little gap-toothed awkward girl she had been, and the more distance she could put between her present self and those childhood days of mockery and torment. She hated the shame and pain when the other kids picked on her. It was still difficult for her to work up the courage to talk to strangers, or even people she’d known for a long time. Except for Zeke, he was easy to talk to, and he always listened to every word she said as if nothing in the world was more interesting. His stunning good looks were just a bonus. Sue had never expected to feel self-confident, but Zeke boosted her morale like no one else had ever done, and she was grateful.

  “I bet you could think of more examples if you really tried. Anyway, the point is that schools are not for education. In fact, they don’t really want the masses to be too intelligent. They don’t want independent thinkers that might question the system. I figured that out a long time ago. That’s why I don’t have much respect for college degrees. Or even high school diplomas, for that matter. It’s all just indoctrination.” Zeke’s eyes had a faraway look.

  Sue was practical enough to know that most employers didn’t share Zeke’s opinion of education, but she kept these thoughts to herself. Secretly, she hoped there would be a future for her and Zeke. It worried her that he didn’t seem to have any desire to improve his situation.

  “You don’t ever plan to go to college?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe. If I have to. I’m going try it my way first, though. Someday I’ll own my own business, you just watch. And I won’t need a college degree to do it. There are plenty of people out there, making it in the real world, and they didn’t even finish high school. As far as I’m concerned, that whole college thing is a rip-off.”

  “What about your career as a poet?” Sue remembered their first conversation.

  “Poet? What are you talking about?”

  “You told me you wanted to be a poet,” Sue said, surprised at his response.

  “Oh, yeah. Well, that’s a side venture.” Zeke shot her a sharp glance. “Why are you acting so stuffy? What’s your problem?”

  “I wish you didn’t think college is a waste of my time,” Sue said plaintively. “I’ve already invested so much work into it.”

  He gathered her into his arms and nuzzled her neck.

  “I think you misunderstood me. I don’t care if you go to college, baby. I wasn’t putting you down or anything. I’m really proud of you. It’s like you’re scamming the system. You’re still you, no matter what kind of garbage they stuff in your head. You’re sort of a rebel inside. I love that about you. Nobody but me knows your wild side.”

  With these seductive words, the situation stabilized. He slipped his hand into her jeans and fondled her. He was right. She felt like a rebel as she moved against his fingers. Zeke saw qualities in her that no one else did, and she loved him for it. In fact, she found it addictive. She never tired of hearing his perceptions of her; even the ones she felt were grossly inaccurate.

  Daddy’s Bed

  They were in the back seat of the van, parked near the lake. Zeke listened attentively to her recollection, not interrupting once.

  “I was lying in bed with my father. He was resting because he had to work the night shift that night. The bedroom was dim and cool, but I felt warm, all snuggled up next to him. I had played hooky from school, pretended to be sick that morning although I really felt fine. He probably knew I wasn’t sick, but he hadn’t pressed the issue.

  “I loved the smell of my father, his aftershave, and the scent of the soap he used. Anyway, we were lying there, separated by the bedspread and sheets, him underneath and me curled up on top. He had been telling me a story about a chipmunk in the forest who found a diamond ring. I was pretty sure he had been making it up as he went, because it rambled and didn’t have much of a plot. But, I didn’t care; I was safe and warm there by his side, my head on his chest, listening to the steady rumble of his voice vibrating through his ribcage.

  “I was thirsty, so I pulled myself up and crawled over him to lie down on his other side since my glass of water was on the nightstand. But my dad grabbed me off him, saying sternly, ‘Now, don’t do that.’ He’d quickly moved me back to his side as he continued, ‘You stay off of Daddy, now. You shouldn’t crawl on top of me like that. It’s not nice.’

  “I remember how badly my feelings were hurt. I was filled with a heavy, incomprehensible shame. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong. I remember flopping back down by his side, my eyes filled with tears.

  “‘I’m sorry, sweetie.’ My dad had said, immediately contrite. Then, he’d said, ‘I shouldn’t have yelled at you; you didn’t do anything wrong, honey. Daddy made a mistake.’

  “I remember wiping my eyes on my sleeve, but the moment had been spoiled for me. After that, whenever I was near my father, I was very careful not to get on top of him.”

  Fingers steepled under his chin, Zeke gazed thoughtfully into her eyes. “Want to hear my assessment?”

  Sue nodded.

  “First of all, Daddy projected his own sexuality onto you,” he began. “He was probably naked under the covers and thinking thoughts he shouldn’t have been thinking.”

  “Oh, no!” Sue protested. “No, that’s all wrong.”

  “Wait,” Zeke commanded. “Hear me out. He didn’t plan to act on it; he just was thinking. It’s the setting, you know. The dark room, the bed, the coziness.”

  Sue said nothing, but she shook her head, denying the allegation.

  “And maybe you were thinking those things, too,” Zeke continued.

  “No, I wasn’t! It was the furthest thing from my mind.” Sue’s face grew red. “I was only a little girl!”

  “Okay, okay.” Zeke held up a hand, warding off her angry reply. “Forget it. I was just giving you my opinion.”

  He leaned back and pulled her into his arms, her back against his chest, facing away from him. Sue was rigid, barely tolerating his touch.

  “You need to just relax, now, Susie Q.” His voice was soft and tender. “It’s okay. There’s no reason to get so upset. It’s just that I read a lot of psychology books. Enough to know the father-daughter relationship is complex. But, it was just conjecture. Come on now, just ease up.”

  “You shouldn’t say those kinds of things.” Sue’s tone was strained and quiet, almost inaudible. “My dad’s not like that. You don’t know him.”

  “Okay,” he soothed. “You’re right, I don’t know him. So, let’s just drop it.”

  She relaxed her head back onto his shoulder. He perceived her submission and kissed the side of her neck, just under her ear. Slipping his hand under her shirt, he caressed her. He felt the tremble go through her body. “But haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like?”

  “With my dad? God, no!” Shock and outrage paralyzed her.

  Zeke’s ran his skillful hands sensuously over her belly to the waistband of her jeans as she squirmed, trying to pull away. “It’s okay.” His voice was mesmerizing, cajoling. He undid the button and slid the zipper down. “I bet you have. I bet all little girls do. You can tel
l me. No secrets, remember? Let’s just use our imaginations for a minute. I’ll talk you through it. Just relax and listen. Let me describe to you what should have happened in that bedroom so long ago between you and your daddy.”

  “No, Zeke. Stop it! Stop it right now!” Sue broke from his embrace but he reeled her back in.

  He slid her jeans down around her knees, and his fingers reached between her legs. “Your daddy would have slipped his hand down here, just like I’m doing.”

  Sue slapped at his hands and jerked away from him. “That’s sick! I won’t listen to any more of it.” She tugged her jeans up, hands trembling, and scooted over on the seat.

  “Quit being such a tight-ass.” Zeke reached over the front seat for his pack of cigarettes. “I’m just trying to loosen up some of those goddamn inhibitions of yours. Set you free.” He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in her face.

  She coughed, waved the smoke away with her hand. “Well, I don’t like it. It’s wrong!”

  “They’re just words, Sue. Words. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me.” Tears slipped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

  “Something sure as hell is.” Zeke crawled up into the front seat and rolled down the window. “Unless you’re insinuating that there’s something wrong with me. Are you?” He held Sue’s eye. “Come here.”

  Sue shook her head and broke the eye contact.

  Zeke shrugged. “Fine. We can leave right now. But I’m not going to have much time to spend with you the next few days. So, I guess if that doesn’t matter to you...”