Agents of Shadow

by Richard Crofton

  “I believed you when you told me that you’re a virgin.”

  “I know. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Another awkward silence. Megan felt that what she said would suffice. She stated her position without any unnecessary attitude, spoke matter-of-factly, and laid it out on the table. You didn’t work in retail without knowing that sometimes a customer needs to be handled in a way where you speak like the town sheriff and nix the ass-kissing approach… as long as you do it in a way that still makes him say “thank you.” But now that the gunslinger in her did her job, and she was satisfied of it, what was left in her was the need to understand why he suddenly stopped her advances. And the self-doubt was now the dominating factor.

  “Do you find me attractive?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Of course I do,” Sonny protested. “I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

  “Then,” Megan struggled to ask what was on her mind, “why are you hesitant? You know, to be physical with me?”

  “I want to,” Sonny admitted hesitantly. “God, I want to. I… I can’t take my eyes off of you, Megan. It just… you kind of… caught me off guard, being forward like that. And I was thinking in that moment that I was getting really excited; that we could go back to your place and make love. We could finally both experience something we’ve denied ourselves our whole lives. And that temptation made me feel a little dirty, but it also felt good. But that’s the thing… it’s temptation. Although part of me doesn’t care; I mean I don’t think we’d go to Hell or anything if we have premarital sex… everyone pretty much does anyway, but I suddenly heard Father Paul’s voice in my head, when he told me not to corrupt you.”

  Megan stifled a laugh. “The old priest is getting to you huh?”

  Sonny responded with a slightly uncomfortable laugh of his own: “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You aren’t responsible for making sure I behave, you know. I’m a big girl; I can make my own decisions.”

  “I know,” he nodded, “but I feel we need to be strong in our faith. That’s what makes us different from everyone else who does it. Like I said, I don’t think we’d go to Hell for it, but I think that by waiting, we’re making our love for each other stronger. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you, Megan. And if we hold to our faith, if we wait until we’re… you know… married, then when we consummate our marriage, it will really symbolize our bond. Our first time will be that much more meaningful and powerful. And I think that’s why the church teaches abstinence. I’m sure our first time will be special, but it would be all the more wonderful if our first time is on our wedding night.”

  Megan sat there in awe. Hearing the word marriage completely stamped out all that foreboding self-doubt. Anger? She didn’t even remember the feeling anymore. “Oh Sonny…” she whispered. Tears would have filled her pupils if she wasn’t so stunned by his response.

  “There,” he forced out. “I said it. Hopelessly romantic as it sounds, there it is. Call me a fool all you wa…”

  He was unable to finish his sentence because his mouth was suddenly invaded by Megan’s pressing lips. She held his cheeks in her hands as her tongue engaged in a lengthy wrestling match with his, not wanting to let go…ever. Sonny returned that same passion for what seemed like an eternity, and when they finally withdrew from each other, that same eternity now seemed like it was ended too quickly. However, withdraw they did, remembering that they were parked outside the house of the Lord, and vacating parishioners who may have passed by Megan’s car to witness this moment may not have approved of their rash behavior.

  Beaming from ear to ear, Megan turned the key in the ignition and started the car. “So,” she said with a satisfied, melodious tone, “Cookie’s it is.”

  “Actually,” Sonny commented, “I like the idea of your apartment better.”

  Megan turned to him with a raised eyebrow, still smiling. “Didn’t you just say…”

  “I did,” he interrupted, “but who says ‘punishing’ you means we have to go all the way?”

  Blushing again, with her beaming smile reduced to a devilish grin, Megan quickly put the car into Drive.

  Chapter XI

  Sitting naked on the edge of her twin bed, Megan Panco stared across the quaint master bedroom of her small apartment into her own eyes, which reflected from the mirror attached to her white painted, wooden dresser against the wall. In the sitting position from her bed, all she could see of herself in the mirror was her face and head. She was alone; Sonny had left after spending about an hour of intimate and pleasurable “punishing” with her, before taking his leave to prepare for his scheduled exams this week, yet she crossed her arms around her body, covering her supple breasts. She was chilly, being bare, but she did not yet move to pick up her clothes that were scattered on the blue-carpeted floor to dress herself. All she could do was look disappointedly into her own teary eyes in the mirror. “What have I done?” she whispered. “What am I doing?”

  Megan and Sonny remained good Catholics, at least to the extent that they did not “go all the way,” but they came dangerously close. She took a moment to reflect back on the hour that just passed. She wanted to smile at the thought of how much she enjoyed Sonny’s touch. Everything felt so good. Mostly. They had lain together very closely on her small but adequate mattress, kissing and necking at first, but eventually they had started to undress each other. Slowly and lovingly, Sonny had started to kiss her neck, her shoulders, then run his lips and tongue in several sensitive areas of her upper body: kissing, licking, gently sucking.

  She remembered how her breath had become irregular with a “we shouldn’t be doing this” kind of desire. Part of her had wanted to tell him to stop; the part of that kept within her the spirit of her mother, who would certainly have disapproved of Sonny’s and her activity. The other part of her however; the part that her mother would describe as the devil inside us all, was, at the time, the more dominant; the loudest and strongest. So instead of telling him to stop, she had whispered, “Yes.”

  Sonny’s lips and tongue had continued to give her upper body an exorbitant amount of attention; then he increased her pleasure with two of his fingers attending to the lower… slowly at first, then gradually accelerating his movements. Megan had felt her body’s temperature rise, and she was seeing stars everywhere. She had tried to reach with her right hand to caress Sonny’s manhood, to compensate him for his efforts, but he had stopped her gently, telling her that today he only wanted to please her.

  “You do please me,” she had told him.

  Twice during their intimate session together, she had asked him to enter her. Twice she had decided in her mind that, damn all the rules of the church, this felt so right. Twice he had denied her of the request, saying that he wished he could, but did not want either of them to have regrets afterward. But he had compensated in many ways with his fingers, lips, and tongue.

  After Megan had lost count of the number of orgasms Sonny had given her, they finally stopped, and they had lain peacefully on the bed: two naked souls cuddling, gently kissing from time to time, not saying much of anything, but just gazing into each other’s eyes. It was much more gratifying, being safely engulfed in his massive, muscular arms, her body close to his rock-hard chest and abs, as if they were one complete organism together, than any of the sexual endeavors she had just experienced. Though his incredible strength suggested he could crush her in a split second as she lay wrapped securely within his person, Sonny had been as gentle as a mother with her newborn. With his time-consuming schedule at school, Megan often wondered when he found the time to keep himself in such perfect shape.

  After the afternoon’s sunlight, penetrating through her bedroom window, had stretched into a narrower but longer shape along the floor, Sonny had given her one last, deep kiss, rose from the bed, dressed himself (all the while looking and smiling at her restful naked body on the bed), and said his bitter-sweet goodbyes. Once he was long gone, and the only sound in what
seemed like the universe was Megan’s slow, peaceful breathing, the remorse slowly settled into the fibers of her heart. Whether it was within her before or during her romantic interlude with Sonny, she did not know. If it were, it had been completely buried and contained by the much more powerful desire for passion and sex. Now that her hormones were satisfied, they were gone, and the guilt was all but free to resurface.

  “What have I done?” she whispered again. Megan found it oddly hypocritical of her to feel so disappointed in herself so shortly after being the one who wanted to sin so badly, more so than Sonny. She suddenly recalled Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, one of several required readings for British Literature during her junior year in high school. She remembered calling Victor Frankenstein a hypocrite, after reading the chapter when he finally succeeded in creating life into the monster and asking himself, “What have I done?”

  “Mr. Taylor,” she had asked her teacher, “I don’t get it.”

  “Would you care to elaborate, Miss Panco?” Mr. Taylor requested.

  “I mean,” she went on, “this guy Frankenstein’s an idiot. He was so obsessed with creating the monster. He didn’t eat or sleep. Geez, the guy almost died of health issues because all he cared about was his work. Then he finally does it, after all this hard work and slaving away, he finally achieves what he set out to do all these years, and the moment this happens, he all of a sudden wishes he never did it? That doesn’t make any sense!”

  Several of her classmates chimed in with the same opinion as hers. “Yeah,” one kid in the back called out without raising his hand. “Who does that? That’s like, playing the lottery every day because you want to be rich more than anything, and then you finally get lucky and win the jackpot. You can’t tell me that you’ll be like, ‘Aw man, I shouldn’t have won all this money. Now I don’t want it.’ Hell, if I got what I really really wanted, I’d be dancing all over the place, not whining about it.”

  Several students laughed out loud. “Man, I know what he really want,” another student, Trevon blurted out. “Halle Berry!” More laughter arose in response to Trevon’s playful jeering.

  “Let’s not get off topic now, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Taylor cut in amidst the laughing. “And Trevon, it’s ‘WANTS… I know what he WANTS,’ not ‘what he WANT.’”

  Trevon rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever. English ain’t my job, Mr. T. It’s yours.”

  “Anyway,” Mr. Taylor continued, “Megan, in response to your observation, you have what might seem like a valid point, but I’d like to explain that in a way, Victor Frankenstein’s suddenly surfaced scruples… notice the alliteration there…” the classroom immediately broke into soft groans while Mr. Taylor smirked… “his unpredictable regret that came out of the blue, actually makes perfect sense.”

  “But how…” Megan began in protest.

  “Human nature, Miss Panco,” he cut her off in reply. “Think about it, class. Has anyone in here wanted something so bad and then found a way to get it? And after you got it, did you really want it as bad now that you had it? Sometimes it’s not the thing that’s so important, it’s the getting it that seems to drive you. Once you get it, that wanting is no longer there to occupy your mind. Your obsession is now gone, and what is left?”

  “ENJOYING it!” another young lady called out.

  “Perhaps,” Mr. Taylor agreed. “It depends on what it is. Folks, I want to tell you about an old college friend of mine who cheated on his wife.” At this announcement, all the students who were doodling in their notebooks, passing notes, laying their heads down on their desks, or showing other signs of not having any interest in the classroom discussion, immediately turned their attention to the teacher. Scandals and dirt about others was always interesting. “Shortly after his wife left him because of it, I went to visit him to make sure he was okay.”

  “To make sure HE was okay?” Megan interrupted. “He was the one who cheated. What about his wife?”

  “I certainly didn’t condone his actions Megan, but he’s still my friend. Anyway, I remember him recounting the incidents that led to his infidelity. He told me how this coworker of his, a very attractive woman, flirted with him… gave him all kinds of attention that made him feel good about himself. He found himself wanting her, he had said. He kept thinking about this woman and tried to find reasons to talk to her at work more and more often. Finally, they found themselves alone at one point and… well, you can guess what happened.”

  The entire class was listening intently on every word at this point. A few students snickered to themselves, imagining what Mr. Taylor was not going into detail about. “He then told me that the weirdest thing happened. As soon as he slept with the woman, and it was over. He had said to himself ‘What have I done?’ He then told me that he avoided the woman at work at all costs after that. He had anxiety attacks daily, fretting over the prospect of his unfaithful actions being discovered, and the guilt that he kept inside of him was overwhelming. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and confessed to his wife.”

  “Good!” another female student grunted. “I hope she kicked his ass!” Some students cheered. Others laughed. Most students shushed her.

  “Language, Miss Betson,” Mr. Taylor reprimanded. “The point is, Megan and everyone else, that sometimes obsession covers your brain’s ability to think of the consequences of your actions. Once you achieve that what you obsess over, the obsession is no longer there, because it’s no longer a thing that’s out of your reach. It’s now a reality. And once the obsession is no longer there, you suddenly have nothing to think about but those consequences that were once so easy to ignore.”

  The classroom was silent, which was a rarity, but the students were considering what their teacher was getting at. “Although Victor Frankenstein was wrong to play God, and defy the laws of nature, we as the reader can’t help but to feel sorry for him because he is still a victim of fate; because he, like so many others, allowed his obsession to blind him from seeing the possible negative outcomes of his actions. And he suddenly became aware of it, only after it was too late. He, like so many others, is a victim, ladies and gentlemen. A victim of the one thing that keeps causing drama and hardship in life: human nature.”

  “I still don’t get it,” Megan said resolutely, crossing her arms, “not completely anyway.”

  “I pray, Miss Panco,” Mr. Taylor replied, “that you never will get it… completely that is.”

  Finally today, years later, Megan Panco truly understood, truly got, Victor Frankenstein’s “suddenly surfaced scruples.”

  She sat there in disbelief. How could she have come so close to sin? She who had always held fast to her faith and never faltered. She had easily maintained her unbreakable will power with her boyfriends in the past. A couple of them had left her because of it, and although she was disappointed, she was still proud of herself for not giving in. She was able to look at herself in the mirror and feel no regrets, only further dedicated to her purity. If he can’t respect my beliefs, then he wasn’t meant for me, she had told herself with confidence. Now, Megan found looking at herself in the same mirror difficult. Shame covered her face every time she tried, and she kept turning away from her own stare.

  The most disturbing idea that entered her mind was when she tried to determine why she felt so shameful. If Sonny was the right one for her, should she be filled with so much remorse? Especially after engaging in such intimacy that was meant to bring them closer together? That thought, above all others, frustrated her. And a small suggestion from her inner core spoke softly:

  Maybe he’s not the right one. Maybe that’s why I feel terrible instead of walking on air…

  However, it was Sonny’s willpower that saved her… saved them both. Self-shame brought this to light. Had he been one of her previous boyfriends, she would have not been able to look at herself in the mirror at all. She felt rather small, having her actions kept in check by someone else. She should have kept herself in check. What ca
used her to be so willing to stray from the path with Sonny, when she never had strayed before? It was natural for her to feel sexual urges. She was human after all, but for it to almost control her like it did was something new and almost terrifying to her.

  What caused this? What’s gotten into me? Was it that he was more attractive than anyone she had ever dated before? Could it be that she was so into him and his perfection that she found it so easy to lose herself when she’s with him? Maybe she felt the clock of time ticking away, and a symptom of Carpe Diem had wedged itself into her spirits.

  You’re not getting any younger, Megan, she thought. You never know when your number will be up. Do you really want to deny yourself the pleasures life has to offer? Even if he does marry you, that could be years from now. What if you get hit by a truck next week? What if you never get to experience it? He already said he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, so what’s the point in waiting?

  HE wants to wait too, she answered herself. It takes two to tango. I have to respect his position as much as he needs to respect mine. We both need to be on the same page with this. I WON’T try to seduce him again. I’m better than that. His beliefs are the same as mine. I was weak today, but I won’t be again!

  And what if he changes his mind? What if he comes to you when finals are over? He’ll be less stressed out, more laid back… what if he says ‘screw it,’ and wants to have sex? Will you be able to resist him? Will YOU be the one with the willpower next time?

  Yes… I won’t let that happen.

  Really? You would have let it happen today. You practically begged him for it!

  I was weak…

  So now you’re strong all of a sudden?

  I’ve always been strong.

  Clearly. That was a great display of strength you showed today.

  She bent her head and pressed her shaking palms against her eyes, as if to form a barricade against her tears that seemed to want to flood her cheeks. Knowing this was all in vain, she wrapped her arms around herself again and allowed herself to weep quietly for a moment.