Running Into A Brick Wall

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  At the end of the night, I let them walk me to my door where they flipped a coin among themselves to see who got the goodnight kiss. James good-naturedly backed away while Jesse moved in and pulled me to him. I thought it was just going to be a peck but Jesse thought otherwise and enveloped me in his arms.

  “I-I’m not available,” I managed to get out before his lips crushed mine.

  “He’s not either,” I heard James say from behind us as Jesse managed to breach my mouth and make a wild foray. “But he is in an open marriage—same with me and my wife, they’re both very understanding and happy to share if you get my drift.”

  My hands were on Jesse’s shoulders and I pushed him away. I’m sure my face registered my shock. “Actually I don’t. Are you saying you’re both married and free to fool around?”

  “Not only that, but Janie and Tammie love to participate and join in the fun. You ever done a foursome, honey?”

  “Foursome? I haven’t even done a threesome. I’m just barely getting back into doing twosomes,” I added. These boys were ‘sperienced. I wondered if Grandma knew just how ‘sperienced they were. It was a good thing the teenagers next door were home with mommy and daddy.

  “Shame,” Jesse said as his fingertips caressed the side of my face.

  James sandwiched me from behind and whispered in my ear, “Two is ever so much better than one . . . you should try it sometime.”

  “No time like the present . . .” Jesse murmured as his lips began a slow circuit down the opposite side of my neck. In tandem they both moved in and I felt the exact same caress on both sides of my neck while one pair of hands fondled my buttocks another skimmed my sides, thumbs caressing the undersides of my breasts and grazing my nipples.

  “Uh, fellas . . . I uh . . . mmm, that feels good . . . but I can’t.” I managed to push off and both men stepped away.

  “I got a guy . . . we have an understanding. This wouldn’t go over well with him.” Go over well? Who was I kidding? These guys would be mincemeat.

  Both men simply nodded, one kissed my cheek and the other patted my butt and then they slowly sauntered away. But not without a backwards look and a raised eyebrow from James as if questioning me to see if I was sure.

  Reluctantly I nodded. I was probably passing up the ‘sperience of a lifetime I thought as I unlocked my door and stepped inside. Then I chuckled. I’d had my first and probably only chance of what could have been a ménage à trois . . . and it wasn’t so out of the question, not at all. My body thrummed with the concept . . . the possibilities. Brick had better appreciate my sacrifice.

  I was on the top step when a fist connected with my jaw and because I was off balance the force sent me backward against the door, popping it open again. I fell out of the RV and onto the ground hitting my head on the doorframe on my way down. The side of my face was cushioned by the mat I had placed there, but I could still feel the contact my head made with the concrete pavement.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jared screwed up. If he’d let me lock the door behind me before hitting me, the Johnson twins would not have pummeled him to a pulp. As it was I had to take turns pulling first one and then the other off of him.

  By the time my screams alerted the neighbors and they called the police, Jared was bloody, floppy like a Raggedy Ann doll, and totally incoherent with his mumblings. He had a split eyebrow, two teeth were missing, his shoulder hung at an odd level and of course his face was a kaleidoscope of color. One kneecap was obviously paining him and he was holding his ribs as if trying to keep them in place. Two knights on white chargers had come to my rescue and done a considerable amount of damage before I could stop them.

  The news of a well-known jeweler imprisoning and abusing his wife had made national headlines but the impact of the story had only been felt in the Washington metropolitan area. The news flurry had flared then died quickly. This would revive the sad story of my marriage, taking my plight nationwide yet again. I cringed at the thought. I had just gotten back into my own little world.

  But by morning, news that the man who had stalked his wife and then held her captive for ten days, and had somehow managed to fabricate a device that altered the radio signal on his ankle monitor was all over the morning talk shows. Women’s rights activists were enraged that he had been released in the first place and law enforcement experts were left trying to defend the security of the system. Jared was a techno wizard, a veritable genius in gadgetry and despite my telling everyone this repeatedly, they’d ignored me. They were now going to take the proper precautionary measures. As soon as Jared was released from the hospital in Tulsa he would be extradited to Virginia and sent to a correctional facility until the trial date. Reporters were on my doorstep . . . and Brick was on the phone.

  “Two thoughts,” he said as I looked out the window and watched two Kansas state troopers scatter the crowd that was milling around my campsite waiting for me to emerge.

  “One is you need a guard dog, I’ve a good mind to call my friend Wayne Simanovich and request one of his German Shepherds, and the other is, what were you doing coming home from a date with two men? I promised myself not to jump to conclusions this time, but really Jen, this isn’t looking all that good for us.”

  “I can explain . . . ,” I said as the troopers approached my door and knocked. I dropped the blind I was holding and went to let them in.

  “Oh I’m sure you can. How about starting.”

  “There are state troopers at the door.”

  “They are there by my order. Let them in.”

  “Are you going to call me back?”

  “No. You’re going to let them in and explain what happened—to all of us. Put the speakerphone on.”

  I did as he said and opened the door. After introductions I invited them to sit and I went over everything the same as I had several times during the night. But there was no hope for it; the story didn’t work unless I told them everything. I downplayed the kiss, made the proposition as straightforward as I could, considering how embarrassed I was with Brick on the line listening. I made sure to stress how gentlemanly both Jesse and James had been at my refusal, reiterating that the reason I was deferring was because of my strong feelings for someone else.

  I didn’t need to underscore that the person I was referring to was being included in this conversation. Cop-type guys have a sixth sense and seem to know the proprieties in these things. They knew damned well that the man on the other end of the phone had a vested interest in me and that he was also in a position to pull some strings for me if need be.

  “So . . . you see . . . I was just having some fun, learning how to line dance and then when these guys walked me home, I was taken a little off guard by their advances. But not for one single second did I consider what they were offering. Okay, okay, maybe I did consider it for a second . . . I mean really, they are great looking guys. But it was no more than a guy would do. Scarlett Johansson walks by and you’re going to consider it.” I looked at the two officers—one shrugged, the other smiled.

  “Jared must’ve been looking through the blinds during the very few seconds I was being held between them because I no sooner got the door open and moved up the steps, pulling the door to, when ka-pow. Fortunately I was off balance on a step and my jaw didn’t have to take the force of his punch, but I did end up falling backward, which popped the door open. Luckily my hand found purchase on the doorframe for a few seconds, which gave Jesse, I think it was Jesse, time to turn and halfway catch me. And that’s all she wrote.

  “When the twins realized Jared had hit me, it was a free-for-all. I was lucky to finally pull them away from him. But he looked really bad. Really bad.”

  There was silence for about ten seconds. I looked at the cops, they looked at me, and then we all looked at the phone sitting on my knee.

  “So nothing happened?” Brick’s investigator voice broke the silence.

  “Well yeah, something happened. Jared got the crap beat out of him.”
<
br />   “I mean, nothing happened between you and the Doublemints?”

  I smiled at his euphemism. “No, nothing happened. Nothing would have happened. I was just surprised, never having been double-teamed like that. I was just stymied for a few minutes, trying to catch my breath . . . imagining how the hell these things worked.”

  “Officers? Do you need anything else?” It was obvious he wanted some alone time with me.

  They both stood. One shook his head the other leaned over and spoke into the phone. “Uh, no, we got Ms. Jameson’s statement last night. Seems to be the same in the retelling. The Johnson boys said pretty much the same thing. They don’t have a habit of doin’ this type of thing, but neither is remorseful in the least. From all we’re hearing this is a man that needs putting down, or at least away.”

  “Yeah. This time we’d better see to it,” Brick said, some of that remorse in his own voice. “Well thank you for coming out. Can you make sure she gets on her way without incident?”

  “Sure thing.”

  They let themselves out and I switched the phone off speaker mode.

  “Jenny?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “I told you not to worry. I said he’d be put away.”

  “You’re not judge and jury.”

  “I’m supposed to be protecting you. He could have killed you.” His voice was noticeably gruff. “God Jenny, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. We’re okay. Right?”

  “Oh, baby, I was so worried when I got the news. You can’t know. If I wasn’t so damn far away, I’d be there right now.”

  “You can’t keep leaving your job to save me.”

  “Then stop getting into trouble!”

  I laughed. “I was just walking around the park, listening to some music, learning how to line dance . . . just trying to fit in, have some fun . . .”

  “Yeah well, next time, pick some ugly guys. I saw a picture of these guys on CNN . . .”

  “You’re better looking.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I’m only one.”

  “One’s all I need.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ve got to get going. I’m holding these troopers up, they must have better things to do than look after me.”

  “Honey, there is no better assignment than looking after you. You get goin’ now, drive safe and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay, will do.”

  “And Jenny?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  I stood staring at the blank screen of my phone. He’d disconnected. I wondered idly if it was because he couldn’t handle the rejection caused by me not repeating his sentiment or because he’d regretted making it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was time to get moving, getting across Kansas was going to take the better part of the day. The troopers watched and even offered to help me tear down, but I had a system and it worked for me so I declined. It had taken time for me to make doing and undoing the hooking up process efficient—streamlining the chore by wearing gloves, learning to do things in a more logical order, and figuring out that by coiling and uncoiling the hoses and cords from the bottom up that I only used what I needed and so didn’t have to waste time putting things away. I was getting really good at backing up and could often come within a few feet of the electric post, faucet, or sewer connection. The confidence I had using my mirrors and the rear view camera amazed me at times.

  The troopers allowed people to pass by and gape, but kept anyone from coming onto my property. They explained that as long as I rented this campsite, they could keep people from trespassing, but that at eleven, unless I opted for another day, they had no protocol to keep them from approaching me. I couldn’t see why they would want to, but apparently making the national news for any reason made people manic. Quite a few people took my picture and a few women even hollered words of support.

  Just as I was pulling in the slide and lifting the jacks, James and Jesse stopped by to wish me luck and to tell me they were glad they were on hand to help out last night. Of course, they now knew the whole sordid story and understood why I hadn’t been interested in their proposition. They didn’t seem at all concerned about the legal tussles they could be in for. I assured them that the next time I was in Kansas that I would look them up. Each one hugged me, and Jesse, who I definitely considered the friendlier of the two, patted my ass.

  Minutes later I was on my way west, tapping my feet to the country music on the radio. A lot of the songs were ones I had danced to last night and my feet tapped in time to the music while I mentally did the steps in my head. I had really enjoyed learning to line dance and I promised myself that from now on I would make the effort to go to some of the classes offered at the campgrounds.

  Around three, I felt I needed a break from the monotony of wheat field after wheat field, water tower after water tower—so I took a detour after seeing an interesting billboard. It would take me a total of forty miles out of my way, but I was pretty sure I would never pass this way again if it could be helped—it was just too desolate.

  The home where the buffalo once roamed, with skies so vast you felt insignificant, was too far off the beaten path for me. So I thought I might as well see the world’s largest ball of twine while I was so close to it. I came off Interstate 70 at Route 281 and instead of heading west I made my way east to Cawker City, where under a pavilion I learned all about Frank Stoeber’s curious folly. Starting in 1953, he began winding the sisal twine from hay bales into a ball. It turned out to be a habit that was hard to break. Now bigger than a truck it’s said to contain almost eight million feet of twine, weighing close to nine tons.

  I was duly impressed but more so with the ingenuity of this rural town whose marketing philosophy was: given lemons make lemonade. Storefronts were painted with easily recognized icons depicted holding a ball of twine in the appropriate places: the Statue of Liberty with a twine ball for a torch, Mona Lisa holding the obsequious orb, Michelangelo’s David covering his anatomic balls with a ball of twine, and Grant Wood’s American Gothic with its depiction of a grim-faced couple spearing twine balls with their pitchfork. In an area of the country where they truly don’t have much to boast about in the way of entertainment, they’ve made the most of a simple diversion, and I fell for it.

  But they were not going to get me to drive another twenty miles north to Lebanon, the Geographic Center of the Conterminous U.S. Grabbing a handful of travel folders from a rack while walking back to my RV, I was disappointed that I had not known about the Oz Museum in Wamego, just a thumb’s width on the map from where I’d been just last night at the campground near Topeka. No way was I backtracking, no matter how cool it sounded. I still had a somewhat serious timetable to deal with.

  An hour later I was back on Route 24, heading west this time, after having had a dinner of spaghetti and apple pie at Ladow’s Market, one of the many ma and pa-type diners that has outstanding food at ridiculously low prices. I was back on the road looking out at the cornflower blue sky with its wispy threads of cottony white clouds that seemed to go on forever. I was a little over halfway through Kansas and I clearly could not see a good reason why Dorothy’d had such an overwhelming desire to come back to Kansas from Oz. It was certainly not to see square strawberry rhubarb pie, a stuffed horse named Comanche, or a dead man seemingly admiring himself in a coffin. Would crossing the border into Nebraska yield anything better?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Having met my goal of getting into Nebraska I began scouting out a place to spend the night. I was looking for no frills and I found it in Kearney. Buffalo County Fairgrounds fit the bill perfectly. A big open area that was basically a gravel parking lot with utility poles spaced widely apart, it was a place to park and rest for the next leg of my trip. It was only ten dollars for a site that included a hook-up to an electric pole offerin
g 50, 30 and even 20 amp connections. And there was a free dump station alongside a white picket fence. Dry camping was free with no limit for the stay. How sweet was that? Pulling onto the huge parking grid, you chose your own site and either plugged in or boondocked. It looked like they could accommodate any size rig. These people were capitalizing on what otherwise would have been just a huge, desolate parking lot.

  You walked to the office to pay only if you were going to be using the power pole. If you absolutely had to have a water hook up there were two sites on the grass under some big trees. This was as accommodating as anything I’d seen for the price. Apparently they had often had a lot of people in Kearney going to the Nebraska Firefighter Museum and Education Center, the Great Platte River Road Archway Museum, the Trails and Rails Museum, or Fort Kearney. All I needed was a place to lay my head. Which I did, almost to the minute I got back inside the Dolphin after plugging into the electric box for 30 amp service on the 6-way post.

  At four in the morning another anxiety episode woke me bolt upright. My first thoughts were of Brick and his sister, Jillie, and what would happen if I screwed up this opportunity to find her. It was a given that our relationship would never be the same. Even though he’d said he loved me, there were few blossoming love affairs that could survive this kind of betrayal. Not for the first time, I wondered if I was making a huge mistake by not telling him of my plans. I paced around the quiet RV. If this wasn’t lonely, I didn’t know what was. There wasn’t so much as an owl hooting. Who would have thought I’d miss the highway noises.

  I decided that my resolution to tell my sister might have an impact on my guilt and anxiety if I would just get on the phone and call her. I looked at my cell phone now plugged into its charger on the little bar countertop behind the breakfast nook. It was too early to call and too late to take anything to get me back to sleep. I put my brown yoga pants on and added a little blue cropped spandex top and got to work: Setu Bandha Sarvangasana to calm the brain and heal tired legs; Halasana for back pain and my current insomnia; Ananda Balasana for massaging the hips; Salambhasana to stimulate the lumbar area and tone the arms and legs; Marjayasana to stretch the spinal column and contract the midriff muscles; Malasan for back and ankles and to make me think of Brick; Pigeon to build flexibility and make me feel good about what my body can do; Dolphin, for my neck, shoulders, legs, arms and feet, and finally Savasana for relaxation.