by Jason Jauron
His sour body odor filled her nostrils.
She tried to turn around, but she was too scared to move. The thought of her father jumping out of the shadows and attacking her felt real.
YEAH RIGHT, FUCKING BITCH. A LEOPARD NEVER LOSES ITS SPOTS. YOU ARE A WHORE. AND YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A SKANKY WHORE. AND YES, YOU WILL FUCK UP THIS RELATIONSHIP LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO BECAUSE A WHORE DESERVES A STIFF COCK, NOT HAPPINESS. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE BECOME. NOW OPEN UP AND SWALLOW DADDY.
She threw up a small amount in her mouth.
REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME I WASHED YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH MY CUM, YOU LITTLE BITCH. THE LOOK ON YOUR PRETTY LITTLE FACE. IT WAS PRICELESS. YOU HAD NO IDEA DADDY’S COCK GUN WAS GOING TO DISCHARGE IN YOUR MOUTH. YOU NEARLY CHOKED.
Patty was not breathing. Her father’s angry, perverted ranting battered, shattered her fragile psyche. He managed once again to violate, humiliate his daughter.
She hung her head.
AND LET’S NOT FORGET THE FIRST TIME MR. HAPPY TASTED THE SWEET WALLS OF YOUR YOUNG PUSSY, DEAR DAUGHTER. IT WAS A TIGHT FIT, AND YOU CRIED FOR A LONG TIME. BUT WHEN DADDY CAME IN YOU, THERE WAS NO GREATER RUSH. EXCEPT FOR THE TIMES I SHOT ON YOUR CHEST.
Patty fell to her knees crying.
AND THANKS FOR KEEPING YOUR PRETTY MOUTH SHUT ABOUT IT ALL DEAREST DAUGHTER. OH EVENTUALLY THE WIFE CAUGHT ME LICKING YOUR HAIRLESS PUSSY, BUT I SHUT HER UP TOO. AT LEAST FOR A LITTLE WHILE. THEN THE BITCH LEFT WITHOUT SAYING A WORD. SHE LEFT YOU WITH ME. AND WHEN YOU KNEW YOU HAD NOBODY THAT COULD HELP YOU, YOU FOUGHT ME. AND DAMNED IF YOUR FIGHTING BACK DIDN’T MAKE MY JIZZ EVEN MORE ENJOYABLE.
“Patty, let’s go already,” shouted Jed a third time.
Meanwhile back at the ranch.
He giggled.
I actually remember some slang from my high school U.S. History class.
He kicked at the loose gravel.
They should have just called the class the History of White Male America.
He glanced back at the shed.
What’s going on?
He jogged over, hollering, “Time to go sweet stuff.”
When he saw Patty near the ground, he simply thought she was looking for something - a contact lens maybe.
But when he heard the sobbing, he rushed over.
“Patty what’s wrong? What happened?”
She just waved him off.
“Leave me alone.”
He stopped.
Glanced around the shed.
Tried to rationalize what was happening.
“Leave me alone Jed!”
That was a scream. Jed had not heard that much anger for a long time.
He walked out of the shed.
He got in the car, waited. As he replayed the incident over in his mind, he smacked the steering wheel several times.
Just what the fuck had happened?
He had gone from feeling like a hero to feeling less than zero.
Jed stared at her father’s house, property.
He took a long look in every direction.
Studied the neighborhood.
Just another Potemkin village.
34.
There were few words spoken on the way home.
Jed did not enjoy the silence.
Patty would eventually fall asleep.
Jed reflected on how he and Patty were as different as chalk and cheese.
When they got home, which couldn’t have been soon enough for Jed, he unpacked, and went for a run.
Patty took a scalding shower.
She cried for a long time.
Meanwhile, Jed was sweating, breathing hard.
His thoughts were polluted, angry.
He was scared.
Patty’s past was the elephant in the room.
And like a bad penny, the elephant turned up everywhere.
Everywhere Patty was.
To haunt her.
To taunt her.
He kept up his maddening, punishing pace as he raced around the campus. He kept replaying the end of the afternoon. He kept rationalizing her behavior.
What her father did will always haunt her.
He’s a ghost that won’t die.
He checked his watch. He had been running for an hour.
And for Patty, memories are a predator - ready to pounce at any time. And if today proved anything, it’s that I provide her no refuge.
There was no logical solution to Patty’s troubled evolution.
And his thoughts turned nasty when he pictured her father.
He needs to pay for what he did. Patty is emotionally scarred, and Freud himself could not get through her resistance. It just isn’t fair. Why does shit happen to good people? Why would anyone harm a child?
After another grueling hour, he stopped in front of the house they shared. Out of breath, out of energy, but still smoldering, he went inside, got a drink, and showered.
As he walked upstairs to their room, he was ready for reconciliation.
But Patty was asleep.
Imagine that.
He lay beside her quietly.
He looked at her face for a long time.
He imagined their futures.
He revisited their past.
Counterfactual thoughts.
He closed his eyes.
We’re both blemished goods Patty.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve made up my mind…
“Forget the others that hurt you, I’m not that kind…
“I won’t betray you or lay your burdens down…
“Cause I’m Jed Darby, the new sheriff in town.”
Note Jed stuck in Patty’s bag, spring semester 1985
He was determined to save her.
He would not give up.
But there were so many things working against them. In a few months, they would be graduating.
Jed was already sending out resumes, Patty kept finding reasons to wait another day.
Jed had found his calling; he knew what he wanted to do. Patty was in the moment, always wanting something new.
Jed was ready to settle down, a house and married life. Patty didn’t trust herself; was she ready to be a wife?
He yawned.
And as he started to drift off, he smiled at the thought that as he was falling asleep to absolute quiet, football players in the dorms at the University of Oklahoma were falling asleep to the sounds of semi-automatic weapons.
35.
11pm
Even though he knew he should be getting ready for bed, Jed suddenly felt an urgency to accomplish something out of the evening.
He took a notebook and pen from his suitcase, sat down on the bed.
He would work on his speech.
A speech he still could not believe he would have to give during the funeral. He was prepared to speak during the visitation, which to a Roman Catholic made fucking sense, but the thought of discussing Patty during mass stopped this former altar boy in his tracks.
He exhaled loudly, popped his knuckles, and rolled his head.
This should be easy. Considering how the night has gone.
**Four minutes later**
It doesn’t have to fucking rhyme! Just describe your feelings.
**Five minutes later**
This is fucking ridiculous.
He had nothing.
Where is the fucking clairvoyance now? Patty was my everything. But they are going to expect more than one line Bright Eyes. She was my first experience with real love. And my first experience with all the fucking raw emotions associated with real love. Our relationship wasn’t simple. It wasn’t black and white. Fuck our relationship was complicated. Trying to explain our time together is going to be harder than helping someone over the phone solve the Rubik’s Cube for the first time.
He decided to just write and organize the shit the next morning.
Patty was the most beautiful “anything” I had ever seen. What I most remember about seeing her and meeting her the first time was how happy, carefree, and con
fident she appeared.
I still can’t believe she talked to me that night at the bar. I don’t know what she saw in me. Maybe she saw a nice guy. Maybe she saw a safe ride home. Maybe she saw someone who wouldn’t be in the position to hurt her. Maybe she saw a little misery in me. You know. Misery seeks company. I’ll never know.
We kept in touch. A romance followed. I was at a low point in my life when I met her. I did not like my life. I did not like myself. Maybe that is why I fell so hard, so fast for Patty. Someone was actually attracted to me. Someone was actually listening to me. Someone actually loved me.
I began to like the feeling I got from being around her. I suddenly did not mind everyone staring at me. My complexion no longer consumed me. I started to feel human again. Less anguish. Less torment. No more isolation. It was like I had shed my skin and was a different person. All because of Patty.
Patty saved me. She is the reason I am still alive. And it is fair to say that I regret not being able to help her in the same manner she helped me.
Quid pro quo.
Patty added a spark, an energy that had been missing from my life for so long.
I had not smiled in years. I had not looked a girl in the eye in years. I sure as hell had not had any type of meaningful conversation with a girl in years. I had not touched a woman intimately in years. Shame and disgust kept me from even touching myself.
I was alone in every way imaginable.
Patty changed all that.
She was a healer.
I was no longer lost, on my own. She made me feel alive again.
She made me feel special.
I mattered.
Because of Patty.
I remember not being able to sleep after we kissed for the first time. The feel of her body, the smell of her perfume, the texture of her tongue, it was overwhelming. I had forgotten just how wonderful being alive could feel.
I quickly became addicted to Patty. And I needed my daily fix.
But as time went by and I grew stronger, I could not come to wean myself off of her.
All my happiness.
All my joy.
All my strength.
All my successes.
Because of her.
Because of our relationship.
But my feelings, my identifying all my happiness with the relationship, blinded me.
It stopped me from seeing the truth.
It’s so easy to never see the truth.
I did some good things, and I did some bad things for Patty. My addiction for what she could provide me emotionally cost me then and will cost me later.
Let’s not forget the sex.
It took just one night with Patty.
I was whipped.
And I never questioned her erotic ideas or the way she seemed to exploit herself, degrade herself, for my pleasure.
Why should I? I was happy.
It’s so easy to never see the truth.
Jed tossed the pen across the room.
Fuck this just sitting around reminiscing bullshit.
I’m no writer.
He knew what he wanted to do.
Yeah.
She should still be working.
As he got ready to leave, a smile crossed his face.
Red Rover. Red Rover.
Send Rebecca on over.
36.
11:21pm
Dave lay on his back, rubbed his forehead.
Something just doesn’t compute.
The idea of Jed and James McGuire in the same small church didn’t make sense.
It was a recipe for disaster.
If Patty’s father is half the asshole Jed thinks he is, tomorrow is going to end one of two ways.
Dave smiled.
And Jed is going to need me either way.
“What are you smiling about,” whispered Kim as she gently bit down on the tip of his penis. “I hope it’s because I’m great at sucking your big fat cock.”
I’ll tell her about the funeral in an hour.
Right after I cum on her chest.
Dave smiled again.
37.
11:27pm
As Jed slipped into the lounge, he noticed his buzz was starting to wear off.
“There you are!” shouted Rebecca.
Her buzz was on.
“I thought you deserted me,” she hollered. “Just have a seat. The place cleared out a few minutes ago.”
Shit.
Was this really a good idea?
Rebecca sat down.
With a full bucket.
Handed Jed a beer.
Shook her head.
It was a freebie.
“You know Jed, I was thinking about fucking you earlier,” she blurted. “But then you went and left me.”
Jed slowly raised his right hand.
Rebecca stopped, fell quiet.
“I just want to know why my love wasn’t enough.”
Rebecca struck her best what.the.fuck pose.
Jed was in no mood for Broadway.
“She haunts me,” he mumbled, opening up his heart at last to an immature, book-smart, dweeb with a chip on her shoulder. “I’m still in love.”
Rebecca put her hands through her hair.
Now I want to fuck him even more.
Jed emptied his beer.
“I am lost without her.”
Rebecca stomped her foot.
“Go find her and tell her!”
He grabbed Rebecca’s beer off the table.
Took a few quick drinks.
“That’s not possible.”
He got up, walked a few steps and turned.
“Why wasn’t my love enough?”
Jed stood there shaking.
Rebecca just shrugged, threw her arms in the air.
“We were in love.”
He shook his right fist.
“I would have died for her. But I couldn’t give her what she gave me.”
He sat back down, slowed his breathing.
“I couldn’t give Patty a reason to live,” he choked. “I couldn’t save her.”
Jed finished her beer; Rebecca finished putting the final puzzle pieces together.
“I’m so sorry Jed,” she blurted. “I just thought from our earlier conversation that she was a lost love.”
His eyes started to water.
Just a lost love?
“I just wish I could hold her now.”
Jed was crying.
Rebecca was crying.
Alcohol will do that.
“And I just wish I could tell her thank you,” he said, wiping his nose with a napkin. “She warmed my heart of stone. She made me understand this life was meant to be shared, not lived alone.”
Jed exhaled.
He felt exhausted, weary.
“That was wonderful Jed,” whimpered Rebecca.
“Wonderful?” muttered Jed.
“I don’t think you really understand what’s at stake in a relationship like I had with Patty.”
He stood up.
“I loved her with such force,” he growled, visibly agitated. “I loved her as much as I can love anything.”
He stopped, pointed at Rebecca.
“Do you know what that means rookie?”
She shook her head.
“It means that for the rest of my life I have to carry around a little piece of Patty with me.”
He was spitting as he spoke.
“A little piece that I can’t get rid of. A little piece that I can’t enjoy.”
He stopped, glared at the uneasy barkeep.
“And it also means that Patty has a little piece of me with her.”
He was shaking again.
He bent down, put his face inches from the Coyote Ugly wannabe.
“Do you understand what’s at stake now when you tell someone you love them?”
She nodded.
He fell into his chair.
His hands covered his face.
“It’s oka
y to cry,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”
After several minutes of silence, Rebecca slid her chair back, stood up.
“The rest of the beer is yours. I’ll leave you alone.”
Jed never bothered to look up.
Rebecca had to bite her lip.
Curiosity was bubbling, but stronger instincts were urging her to leave him be.
38.
11:41pm
Like a river, anger flowed through Jed.
He was buzzing again.
And like most drunks, his emotions dictated his thoughts. Jed was upset. And he was fixated on those things in his life that had frustrated him or caused him pain.
He had not made peace with them.
He had not moved on.
His unhappiness still allowed them – the items in his past - a measure of control over his life.
Acne.
Nobody will ever truly understand how the experience traumatized me. Changed me. Even Patty was a little nonchalant.
He twisted the top off another beer.
The fucking truth is I was the Elephant Man for so long that I still identify with him. Just because the oral chemo, the dermabrasion, and time have no longer made me the obvious choice for everyone’s daily downward social comparison, it doesn’t mean I see myself any different. It doesn’t mean I feel more comfortable in my skin. I still avoid eye contact, my hair still covers my face, and there is a rage that rears its head and is often displaced at the wrong source, at the wrong time.
He took a drink, kicked at the legs of his chair.
I can’t be free, not with the past still trapped inside of me.
He rubbed his eyes.
I went insane trying to deal with my acne. To think back on how I used to spend nearly an hour twice a day popping, piercing, and pinching my face. And to admit that I used to take a wet washcloth and scrub and rub the acne that would not pop until that spot burned and would eventually scab over. The twice-daily ritual eroded my spirit like water wears the stone.
He wiped his nose.
The acne made me hate who I was, what I was. I was a bad person.