With Cruel Intent

by Dennis Larsen

  Mr. Marcus greeted Blanche the morning after her conversation with Holly, as he raked up some leaves, scattered about on the grass in the front of the library, “How’s my girl this mornin’?” He stood the rake up next to himself using it as a brace to support his weight while he talked with Blanche, the handle nearly as tall as the small grounds keeper.

  “I’m good, really good, thanks for asking. Looks like another beautiful day in store for us. You got lots to do outside today I hope?” her polite nature coming through with her inquiry.

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find enough to keep me busy out here until it rains this afternoon, then I’ll move indoors to pester you for awhile,” he said, smiling broadly.

  “Sounds good to me. We should have lunch together; did your wife fix you something?”

  “Yes sirree. It’s a date then, I’ll swing by the desk around noon,” Marcus indicated, putting the rake back to the ground.

  “Nothing like a lunch with my favorite man,” she joked, as she bounded up the stairs to the main doors. “See you then. Have a good morning.”

  Mrs. Anderson met her at the main desk, date stamp in hand, anxiously engaged in organizing the materials in front of her. “Blanche, good morning, you look lovely this morning, thank you for toning down the ah, headlights.” Referring to her bust and the outfit she’d worn the other day that had garnered too much attention, according to the director. However, and not a coincidence she was sure, they had accumulated the most single day donations the library had ever seen, that day.

  “Thanks and you’re welcome,” the younger librarian said, smiling.

  “Take a minute to put your things away then I’ll turn the desk over to you. I’ll be in the museum archives most of the day in case you need me and just have one of the volunteers man the desk while you take your lunch.” The director went back to her stamping and shuffling allowing Blanche the few minutes she needed to get settled.

  Back at the desk with her ‘now’, ‘night’ and ‘never’ boxes in front of her, she laid out her plans for the workday. With a few weeks behind her and her responsibilities well under control, the young librarian found that her work days just sort of glided by, very few hiccups from day to day except for the occasional drunk that would stumble in looking for a bathroom or the kids that often got too rambunctious. Just before noon, and her date with Marcus, the phone rang.

  “Good morning, Valdosta Public Library, how may I help you?” she said, very professionally into the phone.

  “Hey Ms. Delaney, this is Seymour. My mom said you tried to get a hold of me last night. Sorry I missed your call, why didn’t you try my cell?” he said, his Adam's Apple in the back of his throat.

  “Oh, I didn’t want to bother you if you were out with friends and it wasn’t that important anyway. We just were thinking of adding some more nights to the schedule with school starting soon and wondered if you’d be interested in some more shifts,” she scrambled to think of a plausible reason for her call the night before. It was not totally untrue, they had discussed the possibility of the extra nights, as long as they could get proper staffing.

  “I see,” he said, somewhat disappointed, then after a moment of consideration continued, “Who would I be working with, are you taking the extra late shifts as well?”

  “I’m sure I’ll have to do my fair share, why?” she inquired, already knowing the answer.

  “Okay, I could use the extra cash and if it means more shifts working with you then I’m up for that. Just let me know so I can make sure it doesn’t conflict with my upcoming class schedule. While I’ve got you, did you see all the police activity yesterday?” he said, all the more excited about the prospect of working with, and hanging out more, with his new found crush.

  “Yeah, yesterday morning right? I never did hear anything about it though. Why, what’s up?” Blanche spoke in hushed tones as to not bother those reading at the tables nearby.

  “The Sheriff’s Department is running the investigation so I guess there was another break in like the Riddle woman a couple weeks ago. Remember, the one with the guy in the underwear?”

  “I remember. Did anybody get hurt and where was it?” she strained to hear the somewhat poor connection.

  “There was a press conference this morning but they didn’t release any details, but it sounds like a real crime wave has hit Valdosta. Do you think we could have a serial ‘something’ living here?” Seymour did his best to contain his enthusiasm.

  “You almost sound glad that this is happening. That scares me a little bit. What if somebody gets hurt?” Blanche said, a concerned inflection to her hushed voice.

  “I’m not glad but with the stuff we’ve been talking about lately in class, it’s weird that we’d have a deviant starting to do some of the same things here, that we’ve studied, that’s all. I hope nobody gets hurt too. Worries me when I’m at school and my mom is home alone. Anyway, I’m anxious to hand in my project today, you know, the one you helped me with the other night? It’s due this afternoon and I think we did pretty well on it. Maybe when I’m done today, I’ll swing by the library and update you on what’s going on, that is if you’re interested,” he coyly asked.

  “That would be fine. I’ll be here all day, but I’ve got something tonight so I have to be sure to leave on time.”

  He was dying to ask what it was she had that evening but didn’t want to pry or sound possessive, so he let it drop. If she wanted to tell him, it would come out, especially if she’d started dating someone.

  “K, well have a good day and I’ll maybe see you later,” he said, snapping his phone shut.

  The balance of the day passed quickly. Her lunch with Marcus was fun as usual, she loved the back and forth jabs and the lighthearted conversations that helped to pass the time when he was around. By 3:00 p.m. she had cleared her boxes of the items contained therein and was looking for things to do, when a man, approximately her own age, came to the front desk and asked her where he might find some information on ‘Voodoo’ and the ‘Occult’. She couldn’t remember the last time that she’d had to find such material and it took her a few minutes to wrap her librarian brain around the request, before sending him in the desired direction.

  “Well, that's a tough one. Can’t say I’ve done much reading myself on those subjects so give me a minute and let me look through the electronic catalog,” she said, keeping a very courteous and professional lilt to her voice.

  “No problem. I’m in no rush take your time. I’ll just hang out here while you look.” He was attractive, in a unique sort of way; Blanche had thought when she’d first seen him from her desk. It looked like he’d just gotten a haircut, his dark hair trimmed above his ears with slight bangs and no sideburns. He was clean-shaven, wore no spectacles, was thin faced and she could tell, under his form fitting shirt and shorts that he was in remarkable shape. There was a moment when she had first looked into his eyes, a sense of acknowledgement, almost recognition, which she dismissed quickly. She hadn’t met that many people yet and she was sure she would have remembered this good-looking guy. He politely waited patiently at the desk, not taking his eyes off of Blanche, as she looked for the requested information. He made light of the weather and tried to keep some type of conversation going.

  “You’re not from around here. No accent, where you from?” he asked.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’m from out west, Arizona to be exact. Not much of an accent out there but some have told me I have a bit of a drawl. What do you think?” she said, being a bit flirtatious.

  “I don’t know if I’d call it a drawl or not but your voice is certainly sexy. Not what I’d expect for a librarian, if you don’t mind me saying,” he said, taking her cue.

  “Oh, I don’t mind, but don’t tell that to Mrs. Anderson, the director, she’s already worried about the clothing I wear.” They both laughed in that, ‘I’m in a library’, kind of hush. “Here we go, I think I’ve found what you are looking for, section H next to the shelves on
travel. Do you need any help finding that?”

  “That would be very helpful. I’ve never been in this library before and could use a hand. Do you do everything around here, manage the front desk, and assist clients, the whole nine yards?”

  "Some days. Mrs. Anderson helps out a lot and we have a college student that works nights."

  "Oh really, where does he go? I went to school here in Valdosta," he said, through lying lips.

  "Is that right? He goes to The University. How 'bout you?”

  He had to think quickly or get caught in his lie. “I, ah, just went to the tech college, hands on stuff,” he said, following Blanche through the library.

  They walked together to the section in question on the main floor and Blanche showed him where he could find the type of material he had mentioned. He thanked her, shaking her hand and introducing himself as Rob, no last name, but she returned the favor and walked back to her desk. A short time later she noted that he had selected a book and had sat in a chair that gave him a direct line of sight to the front desk. He seemed engaged in what he was reading but on more than one occasion she had looked up to catch him eyeing her, and had quickly averted his eyes back to the pages of the book when she’d caught him staring. She thought it odd but it wasn’t the first time that men had been caught staring at her both here and elsewhere. After all, he kind of intrigued her a bit, nothing wrong with him checking her out, he was pleasant enough and she hadn’t seen any rings. The notion that she’d seen him before continued to eat at her until he approached the front desk again, thanked her for being so helpful, placed a $5 bill in the donation container and left, but not before promising that he’d be back and was sure he’d need her services again.

  With the library locked up and the staff on their way home, Blanche hailed a taxi with instructions to take her to the university campus and to drop her as close as possible to the auditorium, wherever that was. The campus was beautiful, sprawling lawn; cream pillared buildings with contrasting orange tiled roofs dotted the grounds. A large iron gate dominated the entrance to the campus and a bricked walkway extended beyond the gate that led to a two-story building, with people funneling into the front doors. She saw no signs, other than the few scattered along the path, ‘Go Blazers’ and ‘We Love Our Blazers’, but the only building that seemed to have any activity was the one straight ahead. Situated in front of the building was a large fountain, water cascading into a sparkling pool, a few students seated on the rim, splashing their hands in the cool water. Maneuvering past the students she noted a large placard on the wall near the open doors, ‘Auditorium’, and a sign on an easel that read, ‘Lowndes County Mr. Muscle Competition’ with the details listed below. A brochure sat on a nearby table featuring a very muscular man and woman on the front, all oiled up, posing, and muscles ready to burst. She reluctantly took one, looking around to see if anyone saw her slip it into her purse. Blanche followed the moving crowd until she could see a stage with lighting technicians making final adjustments for the upcoming event. The room was about 50% of capacity and of course she could see no one that she was familiar with, so she tried to find an inconspicuous place to ride out the event.

  She spotted a chair in the back left corner with very few people around and started slipping between the rows of chairs when she heard, “Ms. Delaney, dat you?” Her heart stopped. Who would be calling her name so loudly in a public arena with so many people filling the room? She turned to see an older black man walking toward her, arms outstretched, one leg appearing to be a little shorter than the other, causing him to hop step as he moved. “I knowed dat was you. Sho nuff, ya did come, just like Jasper said ya would.” Rufus, by this time had reached Blanche and taken both of her hands in his. “Ya lookin’ as pertty today as when we met dat day on my poche. Why you sittin’ all da way back heah? I done got us a place right up at da front where we can see betta. Come on now, Jasper be so happy to see ya right up dere at da front.”

  “Well Rufus, I don’t know, seems awfully close and the lights are so warm. Maybe I better just sit back here, I’m sure I’ll see just fine,” Blanche tried to convince him, giving some resistance to his persistent pulling.

  “Ms. Delaney, don’t ya be silly, don’t ya want ta git a close look at these muscle mens,” Rufus said, winking at the good-looking white woman.

  “Of course, but don’t you need to save that for family or somebody more important?” she mildly continued to object.

  “Jasper says nobody comin’ to dis tonight that’d be mo impotant than Ms. Delaney,” again smiling and showing the spaces in his teeth.

  “Well, I’m very flattered. Okay, I guess we can sit up there if that’s what you want,” she said, finally giving in and allowed the older gentleman to pull her down the aisle and to the seats closer to the front.

  Jasper had been watching from the security of the stage behind the large curtain pulled to either side and held in place by gold hooks fashioned into lion heads. He was pleased to see her. She was everything he’d been looking for in a woman and destiny had thrown them together not once, but twice. He was sure it was a sign. He had hoped she would come tonight; maybe he’d have the courage to ask her out on a real date. The few minutes he’d spent with her over the past few weeks had filled his memory and fueled his imagination. On more than one occasion he’d been pulled from a dream much sooner than he would have liked. Just seemed every time she was about to drop the bikini top or come crawling into his bed, he’d wake up spoiling the inevitable. Other contestants milled about on the stage, friends and handlers covering their hairless bodies with oil, in preparation for the judging. Jasper knew that on this night he’d be performing for only one person and she was no judge.

  On the very last row of seats, a man sat, light jacket over a dark t-shirt, long denim jeans, athletic shoes, a Brave’s baseball cap covering a fresh haircut, pulled over his forehead and dark sunglasses. He had hoped that the librarian would not have given in to the older black man and stayed at the back of the auditorium. The Stalker could have gotten some awesome voyeuristic pictures of her seated alone, nothing to obstruct his view. He cursed Rufus under his breath, the small compact digital camera hugging his palm. He hoped that the trouble of following her tonight would pay off, with at least a few pictures, if not something more. The lights dimmed throughout the auditorium as those on stage intensified. He thought back to the few hours prior. Holding her hand in his, so soft, so feminine, he’d gotten caught up in the moment and almost gave her his real name. Thankfully, ‘Rob’ had come to his mind quickly. Surely he’d be able to come up with a logical explanation for that guffaw later, when he revealed himself to her completely.

  An announcer made his way to the microphone positioned in the front center of the large stage. He wore a striking, classic black suit, white ruffled shirt and black bow tie. Blanche suspected he’d be the only one dressed so modestly appearing on stage tonight. He welcomed the crowd who responded with hoots and hollers, except for the timid Blanche, who clapped in her own unassuming way. Rufus, on the other hand, was making enough noise for both of them. The MC explained the rules of the competition and introduced the three judges seated at a long table in front of the stage, a pitcher of water and glasses with ice, before each judge, as well as pads and pens. The women’s portion of the evening would start, beginning with the mandatory portion of the event. Blanche understood, based on the explanation, that contestants must present themselves on stage and perform a set series of poses to display their overall fitness and physique. Scores would be tabulated and recorded, and then the second half of the competition would begin. It was deemed ‘freestyle’ and was set to music. The bodybuilders were allowed 90 seconds to wow the crowd with whatever moves and poses they saw fit. Again, this would be scored and the highest overall tally would be reigned Ms. Muscle or Mr. Muscle, respectively.

  Blanche had no idea what to expect, she’d never seen such a competition either on television or live. There were seven men and seven women vy
ing for the titles. The original field of applicants had been over a hundred but the judges had looked at photos and past performances to determine who would compete in the final seven. The women were introduced one by one as they walked onto the stage, each wore a small cover up that they dropped to the floor when they reached their marker on the stage floor and their name was announced. The male portion of the audience greeted the dropping of the shroud with exuberant applause and catcalls. The women were a bit too mannish for Blanche’s taste but they were in phenomenal shape, each muscle group well defined and shimmering in the lights as the oil reflected the multi directional beams. There were four black ladies, two Caucasian and a Filipino; the heaviest of the group was 195 lbs of rock solid muscle. As far as the toned, but less than muscular Delaney could tell, most of the women appeared to have breast implants, some more natural looking than the others. The smallest of the group was the Southeast Asian, she stood 5’ 4” and weighed only 150 lbs, but she was very well proportioned and perhaps even had natural breasts, at least what was left of them. Apparently, Blanche gathered, bodybuilding was not for women interested in keeping a full, natural bustline. She noted that the women were all quite dark except for their faces. It was obvious that they were tanning from the neck down but avoiding their faces, even the black contestants. She filed away in her memory a question for Jasper regarding this observation.

  The contest began with the larger of the Caucasian women, and before she was allowed to start, the judge reminded the audience to be respectful of the ladies and keep the sexual epitaphs to a minimum. Concentration was needed and the contestants had worked hard to get to this stage of the competition. That said, the first ran through her routine, demonstrating the various mandatory poses, exited the stage to the rampant applause of many in the audience.

  “Must have a lot of family here,” Blanche thought, looking over her shoulder at the people clapping in wild abandons.

  This repeated itself six more times until the compulsory portion of the competition was over. Blanche favored the smaller woman but each could hold the title as far as she could tell. Amazing what one can do with their body, a barbell, hours of spare time and hard work in a gym, Blanche concluded, and determined to make sure she allowed time for a run in the morning.