by Jayce, Aven
Oh goody. She’s back.
My students won’t have any work ready for the show so they won’t be participating this year.
Enjoy!
That bitch! She just put the entire exhibition on my shoulders and opted out. So now I have to fill the entire space and take care of everything myself. Fuck her. And I’m sure she’ll tell the entire campus I didn’t include her in the show. I know it. I’m never speaking to her or opening another email from her again. Evil wench.
I’m going to quit. This place is a joke. Why do I bother to teach students when they have better odds of becoming professional football players than designers? I’m wasting my time and so are they. There’s nothing they can do with this degree when it’s from such an unknown program out in who-knows-where Pennsylvania.
See, anger. It penetrates my every pore when I’m here, and for my mental health, it seems best to skip out. Not necessarily go home, but have a personal workday in my office.
I leave a sign in my classroom that reads ‘class is cancelled due to illness’ and then I lock myself in my office with my book. Hell yes, I brought it with me, Dan’s bag as well. It’s on the floor next to my desk just in case I want to sneak a peek.
And I can write today too. I can spend the next seven hours holed up in my office working, sneaking out only to pee and to get a drink and snacks from the vending machine. Evade and escape.
Now, back to the Cowgirl in the Pig Pen. Chapter two.
“There she is, Bucky, the prettiest cowgirl in all of S&M Ranch. She’s gonna hold my stiff reins and yank ‘em ‘til the cows come home.”
“Eew-wee, I don’t know how you get all the pretty ladies to touch your pecker. I had Lee Ann in my sack last night and all she did was toot beans out her ass.”
“Take the horses in while I get my willy wet, would ya?”
“Sure thing, Duke. But don’t let her father see. He’s been known to throw a man off his land for lesser.”
Bucky walks to the pen where Daisy Mae’s knee-deep in pig mud. A fat swine that Duke’s thinking about killin’ for dinner shits on her leg. The smell and the dark slop makes Duke’s dick grow hard. Shittin’ on women is one of his favorite pastimes. He likes it better than fucking the ranch hands ‘round the campfire at night.
“Daisy-Mae, I like what I’m seeing here. You and these pigs got me ready for a haystack lay. Whatya say?”
“Duke,” she shakes her head. “My Daddy will whip your behind if he finds your hands on me.”
“How ‘bout if they’re not on ya, but in ya?”
This is hideous. One of those books so bad it becomes a cult classic. I love it.
Duke lifts Daisy-Mae over his shoulder and carries her off to the barn. He flops her down on a pile of hay and rips her shirt open as she fights to get away then succumbs to the beast he pulls out of his pants.
“It’s crooked, Duke.”
“It got stuck in the barn door one day. When Bucky and me see a man with his pecker hanging out we tell ‘em his barn door’s open so he knows to tuck it in. If he don’t, that barn door’s gonna get him too.”
“Does it still work?”
He pulls her dress over her head and has a look see at her snake bush.
“Eeeek!” she screams when his crooked pecker disappears behind her thicket. “Wrong hole! Wrong hole!”
This is hilarious. And it’s so much better than spending an hour lecturing twenty students on why some forms of Photoshop manipulation may be unethical. Go, Duke!
“Daisy-Mae, you have a fine back end, and when I see a bush-a-bleeding, I know the rear’s the right hole to go a breeding.”
“You can’t get me pregnant back there. Breeding doesn’t happen in my back hole.”
“Daisy-Mae!”
“Daddy!”
Oh shit, here we go. I knew that was coming.
“You lettin’ this peckerwood inside ya? Didn’t Mama tell you to feed the pigs, and here you are, acting like one. I’m gonna have to teach this boy a lesson for takin’ you away from your chores.”
“Daddy, please! He’s got a crooked Willy. I like it.”
“Crooked? Let me see that Pecker, Duke.”
Duke pulls out of Daisy-Mae and holds his peckerwood in his hand.
“Well I’ll be a one-legged chicken in a fox hole. Look at that thing. A poke-stick like that must win ya a lot of ladies. Can I touch it?”
I have to stop reading or my laughter will be heard clear across campus. Plus, I’ve got a feeling the father will join in on the fun, and incest isn’t my thing. When I get back into it, I’ll have to skip that section.
I should continue writing myself, but Dan’s bag catches my eye.
Just open it and stop being a wuss. And why didn’t you fuck him last night? You have smutty dirty little slut thoughts all the time, but then you back down. What happened to the caramel? Do I have to do everything for you? It’s time to change, Div. Do something mind-blowing for once in your life. And for Christ’s sake, get rid of that shit in your living room.
Shut the fuck up Violet and leave me alone.
No. Open the bag. It’s probably something boring and dry anyway, like books on window gardening.
I happen to...
Div, open the bag.
Fine.
I place the bag on my desk and pull the string tie until the top falls open.
“It’s Hayden Night’s Trilogy. A boxed set. What the fuck?” I didn’t see this when we were at the bookstore, only single books from that trilogy. Dan must have picked it up before I made it to the section. Does he know what I write or who my competitors are, or is this just a coincidence? Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have looked. I can’t read these; it would be like owning a McDonald’s franchise and eating at Burger King, or working at JC Penney and wearing the outfit you bought at Kmart to the annual Christmas party.
You bitch. He has twenty erotic western books to read and all you have is this one trilogy. Read it.
It’s eight hundred pages... eight hundred pages of Hayden Night’s sick and twisted words. How could Dan buy such trash?
Seriously? Stop being so stubborn and open the first book. You might learn something.
No. No bloodbath books or rapes. I like it when the couples fuck but not when I have nightmares from the other content, and Hayden Night’s books are known to be the darkest of all dark. Dark’s okay, but not pitch-black dark.
Whited sepulcher
Stop calling me that.
Stop calling yourself that. Your books are just as nightmarish as Hayden’s.
“Knock knock. You in there, Div?”
Richard, my Chair. He never comes to my office. I must have done something terribly wrong. Oh shit. Oh shit. I have to hide. Where can I hide? I wonder if there’s a ledge outside my window? Or maybe I can squeeze under my desk? I’m panicking. Why am I panicking?
“Div? I saw your truck in the lot, but heard from a student that you canceled class. You in there? You okay?”
No. No, don’t come in.
I’m frozen with Hayden’s book in my hand and the erotic western on my desk. And if I move, he might hear me. I hold my breath and slowly, gently, set the books in the bag. How am I going to explain myself?
Keys jingle, and the handle turns. I have no choice but to hurry to the door as if I was on my way to open it.
“Richard, how are you?”
“That’s what I came to ask you. Feeling okay? A student said you were sick, but your truck’s here, so...”
This would never happen on a large campus where I’d be able to blend in and eventually disappear. Here, on the other hand, a moment after I sneeze someone from two buildings down calls to say ‘God bless you.’
“I’m having stomach issues, but I’m hoping it’ll pass so I can teach my afternoon class. I don’t want to go home just yet.”
“I appreciate your dedication, Div, but it’s okay to call in sick sometimes.”
I nod and try to create a queasy, stomach-c
hurning expression on my face, but I probably just look constipated.
“Everything else okay? Have you spoken with Margaret or anyone else like we discussed?”
“That was yesterday,” I sigh. The guy needs to give me some time. “I’ve been busy, and Margaret’s impossible to have a conversation with, I tried, it didn’t work out. I think it would be best if we stay as far away from one another as possible.”
“Umm. Hmm.” He pretends to contemplate my words, but I can tell he’s barely listening. His eyes wander. Glancing at my candle, the window coverings, my chalkware collection, and then to my desk before he speaks. “Well, that doesn’t bode well for the future of this department.”
“No, I suppose having an ice hag for a colleague is a good indication that things are going downhill.” Fuck, I need to stop saying shit out loud. I could blame Violet, but those words are definitely coming from the Divine side of my brain.
“I see.”
There it is, that monotone voice of his. It’s like having a conversation with the teacher from Charlie Brown. Waah waaah wah wah waaah wah waah. And why is he sitting down? I didn’t ask him to sit.
“Div, we need to chat about something. I know you’re not feeling well, but it can’t wait. I’ve been putting it off for a couple of days.... why don’t you have a seat for a moment.” He motions to my desk, hesitant between words. “I’m really not trained in any of this and I don’t know how to begin.”
It’s the petition.
“I need to ask you something, and I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable... I don’t want to embarrass you or anything.”
No, it’s not the petition, but what? Oh God, please don’t ask me out, anything but that.
“Have you been viewing porn in your office?”
Fuckin’ A, I take it back, ask me out; ask me out! “No,” a small laugh springs past my lips as I try to act like it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. “Are you kidding?”
He exhales and leans back in the creaky wooden chair. “It’s been brought to my attention...”
“By who?” I cut in.
“Someone from Campus Operations has brought to my attention that a few adult websites have been viewed, one of which caused a virus to spread across campus. It was tracked to your computer.”
It’s been more than a few sites, try hundreds, but Richard’s keeping his cool and he’s trying his best not to humiliate or shame me.
“Well, that doesn’t mean I did it. Maintenance comes into my office at least once a day to dump my trash. It could’ve been them.”
“True. But unfortunately I’m required to bring it to your attention, and I’m also required to report it to the Dean.”
Of course.
I close my eyes and shake my head repeatedly until I hear him stand.
“I’m not saying you did anything wrong, Div. Just be careful, alright?”
I’m silent. What the fuck am I gonna say? The more bullshit that leaves my mouth, the worse this will be.
“Go ahead and take the rest of the day off. You look pale. I’ll have our assistant notify your afternoon class.”
I agree, now I really am pale, and I wonder if the school can fire me for this. No, they can’t prove anything. Even Richard has a key to this office; it could’ve been anyone.
I check my campus email one last time before ducking out from the university for the rest of the day. Yeah, I know, why would I look at my email? Why be stupid? Right? I’ll be spitting fire the whole way home if Margaret...
Div,
Due to lack of student interest, I’m suggesting to the Board of Trustees and President Langer that your program be deleted from our department. Our majors don’t want to take your classes, and I believe the program will thrive if you’re no longer here.
Also, I have approved and signed a substitution form for a student who would rather take home economics next semester than a digital class. She wants to be a high school home ec teacher and finds the requirement for computer experience to be pointless.
Isn’t the weather great today! I’m taking my students for a walk to Dairy Queen and then we’re going to play Frisbee. Would you like to join us?
MC
Remember what I said earlier? That sorority girl Hannah is dead?
I changed my mind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I was in a shipwreck and I’m floating with a life preserver in shark-infested waters. There’ve been a few nips at my legs, but I’m waiting for the one bite and hard yank that pulls me under. It’s coming.
For now, I long to be at home and away from Margaret and her following of Tweedle-Dees and Dum-Dums. I’ve been reading since yesterday afternoon and this must be what a cat feels like when napping in the warm sun - calm, happy, relaxed. That’s me. I called in sick this morning to continue my book marathon and it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made in months.
The day is perfect, except I miss Dan, who I haven’t heard from since the night we ‘fooled around’ - only a door between us. I suppose that’s my fault. He doesn’t have my cell number and the only way he can contact me is by walking over or by sending a Facebook message. I should’ve taken down his number when he called my office phone the other day. Now I have to search for his name in the online phonebook. No luck. I’ve tried every combination of initials I could think of, but Mr. James Daniel J.D. Keller is unlisted. And I suppose that’s just as well. We might get bored with one another if we talked every day.
No, that’s not true. The guy has taken over my brain. I’ve never lost a game to any man or let my guard down for even a split second. I don’t know what’s happened to me this time. Dan has managed to put a wrinkle in my daily routine; he’s scheduled himself in, something that I’m enjoying, but wasn’t expecting. Even as I read, he’s in my head, which is scary because I can usually get so lost in my books that I don’t even hear my phone ring.
I’ll probably send him a message tonight before bed, and if I don’t hear from him soon, I’ll know I was used for door sex.
I want to tell him I’m reading the trilogy he bought. Hayden’s trilogy. And it’s good. Fuck. I hate to admit this, but it’s better than mine. I think that’s because my story is too personal. I wrote it about my parents, a love story that goes horribly wrong. There’s no happily ever after in my trilogy and maybe Hayden’s doesn’t have one either, but I’ve researched her reviews and readers love it.
Which reminds me; this morning I got a new review from some fucker who said my books were unbelievable. Seriously? They’re based on actual events, not all, but most of it is. Besides, I thought people read fiction as an escape from reality, to read something that was invented as a form of entertainment. Right? When I picked up my erotic westerns, thinking they’d be realistic never entered my mind. As a matter a fact, I’d probably be pissed if they were. I like Duke and his crooked willy. It’s endearing.
So, not only am I taking a break from the university and Margaret’s emails, I’m also trying not to obsessively check my book sales and reviews. No aggravation today. I’m looking for clear blue skies, happy garden gnomes, and a lobster with a glass of red wine for dinner. And the same tomorrow, and the next day, then I should be able to walk onto campus Monday morning with a brighter outlook on life. Stay optimistic, Div!
Book one is done; finished, completed, and as with most trilogies, it ended with a cliffy. Readers wouldn’t buy book two if the story got sorted out, so a cliffhanger is a must. And Hayden’s is classic, with a woman kidnapped by a dark and damaged male who is some psycho killer. She was a virgin too, but the guy solved that rather expeditiously. The moment he got her in his home he said he could smell her hymen and needed to have her blood on his dick before the night was over... and he did. And then he kills her and kidnaps another woman! And this new woman is in a cage in his basement. Yuck! See, now that’s unbelievable and very disturbing, but I know it’s fiction and I’d never write that it could never happen in a review. Okay, okay, I’ll let it go
. I just don’t understand why it doesn’t bother you like it does me?
It would if I spent time worrying about things as much as you do, wasting all my time doing stupid shit online, dawdling... just let it go. Let everything go, clean your fucking house out too, and start over. Be the old you for once, Div. Stop hiding me inside. Let me out!
You’re going to be inside of me until I die, aren’t you? You’re never going away.
I’m the real you. I was ‘the you’ until all that shit happened.
Fuck off. You weren’t me. You aren’t me.
Bitch.
“Goddammit!” I toss book two of Hayden’s trilogy on my bed, slip off my robe and step into the shower. I’m going to wash Violet away with Coast deodorant soap. Her voice is fucking annoying. Sometimes she’s a whisper, today it’s as if there’s another person right here in the room with me.
You’re a vixen. Dan’s gonna love that shaved...
Hmm mmm, mm mm mm.
Humming’s not going to cover the voice in your head. Go knock on his door and fuck him.
“I can’t take this anymore,” I say, placing my hands over my face. “What do I have to do so that you leave me alone? I want to be free from all of this. Why did that have to happen? Why are they gone?”
Find yourself. I’m real and a part of you. You can’t push me away; we’re the same person. Stop trying to keep me out of your life. That person you take to work each day and who’s been hanging out with Dan? She’s so fake compared to the old you. She’s ‘unbelievable.’
“Ohhh fuck. Please go away. You’re going to make me cry.”
Cry and let it all out so I can reappear. So we can be one again. It’s okay to be dirty and nasty sometimes, Div. It’s okay to have a darker side.
“Violet, I’m not the person I was when I was seventeen. That was nine years ago and teenagers do stupid shit, then they grow up. I have responsibilities now and you’re not coming back, you’re dead, deal with it.”
Whoa, now I’m laughing. I’m dead? How ironic. So let me get this straight. Mom dies, so you revolt and become an outgoing-drunken-confident-life-of-the-party-slut, then Dad dies, and you put me in a drawer and become this shy-nerdy-lonely-college-professor? What’s next? Figure it out, you crazy bitch. You or me? Who do you want to be? If it were up to me we’d join forces. We are one and the same after all. Oh, and another thing, would you please walk next door and screw that man’s brains out? You don’t want to lose him.