by Mia Ford
But Darlene seemed pretty sure.
‘He must have come all the way over from Boston. What does he think he’s doing?’
It had been a fairly surreal day and so perhaps Kurt can be excluded from staring back a bit dopily at first, but Darlene’s last question caused him to wake up a little. If there really was some weirdo following his girl about the place, then he was not going to stand idly by.
‘Damn straight, girl! I think I’ll be having a word with this bozo,’ said Kurt, dropping the box of papers onto the front lawn and then taking the first purposeful steps of what was going to be a march towards this Jefferson. His movement saw a response from the jeep, however, and so he only managed a few steps before stopping. From what he had heard of the man, standing in the road when he was endeavoring to speed by was quite possibly not the wisest decision.
How unhinged was this guy, after all?
The two of them then stood back and watched the jeep pass by, at which point Jefferson wound his window down, stuck his head out and shouted, ‘You slut! Burn in hell!’
Then he carried on past and down the road. Kurt got the impression he was trying to speed away but, from the sound of the engine, there was the distinct impression that Jefferson was having trouble getting the vehicle into gear.
‘Well, that wasn’t very nice,’ Kurt reflected.
‘And I thought it was all over with,’ said Darlene, ‘I can’t believe he’s followed me all this way.’
‘You did say he had been like a stalker.’
‘Annoying phone calls and Facebook messages, but nothing like this.’
‘That was why you deleted your Facebook account?’
‘That’s right!’
‘It’s all falling into place. If you thought he was only a mild stalker up until now then he has just raised the stakes.’
‘Tell me about it, I’d better get home.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Darlene had looked about to be getting in her car and leaving, but Kurt could not see how that was going to help the situation.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘The best place is at home until he leaves.’
‘Are you serious? I’m not letting you out of my sight until this matter is dealt with.’
‘But what can be done? Stalkers don’t get prosecuted, it’s too difficult.’
‘I’m not having you waiting around for this to end, wondering whether he’s going to appear around the next corner. It isn’t on!’
‘But… I have to go home. Kurt, we’ll give the game away.’
She was right, unless he kept his distance their families would find out all about them.
‘I’m not ready to tell my father about us. It’s… it’s just happened so quickly and I’m sure he’ll think less of me.’
‘I don’t want anyone thinking less of you, sure, but–’
‘Look, we’ve dealt with him before. I’d better go in case he reappears to follow me.’
‘But he’ll know where you live.’
‘I’ll call home before I get there,’ Darlene insisted, getting in her car despite his protests and adding, ‘I don’t know when we’ll see each other again but I’ll be in touch when this dies down.’
Kurt was still in protest mode, but Darlene was far more strong-willed than he had previously given her credit for. Unfortunately, her vision was limited in terms of getting rid of this Jefferson. He could tell she was going into siege mode and believed the matter needed to be dealt with more directly.
It had been a strange day with strange twists and, if Kurt had been capable of thinking faster on his feet, he would have got in that car with her. Regrettably the instinct to be more assertive with protecting his girl only set in once he saw her speeding off round the corner.
Driving off like that was a daft idea; Jefferson could be lurking in wait from numerous streets and it was more than an hour’s drive to her home in Portland.
A sensitive family atmosphere had tired him out, but it was time to get his head in gear and decide what should be done. Either that or lose Darlene for good. Previously he had not been one for complicated relationships but seeing her speed off like that – possibly in danger – did something to him.
There was something unbearable about the whole thing – and then it dawned on him what an idiot he had been.
The nightmare had returned and Darlene’s stomach was in knots.
She did not know what to make of Jefferson’s psychological problems and, as she sped away from the Wyden’s place, any way she decided to look at the problem proved disheartening – if not downright disturbing.
Just when life seemed to be getting good. Just when she had found a man at last and seemed to be spreading her wings (albeit far from her father’s view), she had ended up taking two steps back instead of forward.
All those sinister overtones that had been hanging around in Boston ever since she had broken it off with that creep had returned. Back then she had always resisted reporting him to the police; had suffered the phone calls through the guilt she felt about letting someone down, when she should have been focused on acknowledging how disturbed the man was.
Escape back to Portland had been her way out and, rather than complicating things further, she had looked to that as the end of it all. When she was done with college she would be free and that thought alone had caused her to hang on in there. She had a lot to learn about getting herself into situations that were imposed upon her by a restrictive familial outlook and regretted ever walking into the situation. Even so, she thought the time to make up for that mistake and learn from it would be ahead. Instead, as she caught sight of him watching them, Darlene learned that the mistake would keep following her around.
What could possibly be done about such an obsessive and offended individual? She had closed her Facebook account because he had been sending lengthy and unhinged diatribes about purity and righteousness. Implying to her that she risked being turned into a whore like the rest of society’s women. All because, during one frank conversation, she had admitted lamenting the fact that she had not had at least some experience of being with the opposite sex.
When it came to leaving him, that admission gave Jefferson his ammunition. He accused her of giving into the devil and chasing those lustful dreams. She was leaving him to be seduced and would soon be wanton.
Of course, though she would have expressed it in different terminology, the irony was that this was exactly what had happened. She had met up with the Wyden she had always fancied and found that he now liked her too. But that was none of Jefferson’s business. Returning home had offered a certain amount of clarity on life and she no longer believed in hiding herself away from the world. It was there to experience and they were two consenting adults. His disapproval, or his daft old mother’s, for that matter, did not mean anything to her anymore – if she could only kick him out of her life for good.
Feeling she had succumbed to a false dawn, Darlene began to reflect on all that had happened over the last couple of weeks. Though she had wanted to seek a more expansive lifestyle, she had expected to discover one very slowly and had been completely surprised at a handsome man turning up to sweep her off her feet.
Giddy from the attention, in the back of her mind it had occurred to Darlene that Kurt deciding to look her way was unforeseeable, in that nothing had ever passed between them to suggest he might. Maybe he had thought her too young to flirt with before and so held back. Whatever the decision she would admit to finding no issue with his change of mind. It felt good to have been noticed so quickly and, though what then happened contrasted sharply with her tendency to be so regimented and planned with everything, allowing him to lead the way was a real turn on. Kurt was helping her to discover so much about herself that she had always repressed. He had always struck her as confident and focused. Two character traits she really admired. So, she had taken a chance in deciding to trust his intentions and the chance seemed to have paid off, even thoug
h their relationship felt like it was a no-strings style. But now Jefferson had turned up again and reminded her of that old proverb. That you may be through with the past but the past sure isn’t through with you.
The idea that God might be punishing her for being promiscuous after all flashed through her mind. She found the strength to dismiss it for now, reminded of her last New Year’s Resolution to have the courage of her convictions. Darlene did not believe in all the restrictions she had allowed overcautious parents to place on her life, though those convictions would have to survive a lot more tests than ever before. Jefferson was edging towards the extreme – if he had not already – and the journey home was not yet proving effective enough in seeking a solution.
Plus, if the overall scenario was not bad enough, things were about to get a lot more complicated.
Thinking back, she had not considered listening to Kurt’s advice when Jefferson had driven past calling her a ‘slut’. Her instinct had been to keep the males out of the matter, thinking that if she asked Kurt to stick up for her it might only make matters worse. Someone could get hurt or end up in prison and she feared such a scenario as a result of a problem that was following her around.
Hindsight caused her to change her mind when she saw Jefferson’s jeep in her rear-view mirror. Sticking together when presented with uncertain and perilous circumstances, as Kurt had suggested, was not such a bad idea after all. What had she been thinking speeding off like that? Now she was being tailed by a closet psychopath and leading him right to her parent’s place. It would surely have been better to hide behind Kurt’s exquisitely toned shoulders than her poor old dad, who she could not imagine saying ‘boo’ to a goose, but it was too late to do anything about that now. They were heading to Portland, if the embittered jester was not planning to knock her off the road before they got there.
The truth was that he already had her home address, so leading him there was not revealing any secrets. Knowing what his intentions were, however, was a completely different question. At worse he had something violent in mind, at best the same kind of pestering via phone calls and such that she had put up with in the past. Or maybe something in between.
Likely enough she would soon find out.
The kilometers between the two of them and Portland were eaten away, though very slowly to her own mind, meaning that Jefferson and her family might be due for some kind of showdown. Any idea of speeding away from him was quickly dismissed; Darlene was not comfortable with fast driving and considered that to be a sure-fire way of getting in an accident. Somehow the right blend of wit and resilience needed to be achieved although, as far as she was aware, there is no manual for dealing with obsessed individuals.
Her parents’ drive came into view and Jefferson was still tailing her, showing no sign of turning off for an alternative destination.
Determined not to let him any closer to her house than she had to, Darlene employed the handbrake as soon as she was on the drive, so as to make sure his jeep could not follow her up to the house. It did not look like that was his intention, however, as rather than hang around challenging her to move or getting out of the car, Jefferson drove on by.
Something told her that was not the end of it and, even as she then put the car into gear and sped up to the garage with the hope of getting inside as quickly as possible, Darlene was aware the menace had proceeded to pull up just a short distance up the road.
Indeed, the swine did not even give her enough time to get to the front door. No sooner had she stepped out of the car when she heard his jeep door slamming shut and turned to see that he was heading up to the house on foot.
This was unbearable. She would have to burst into the house and tell her parents, without giving them heart attacks, that her unhinged ex-boyfriend was pursuing her up the drive and needed to be dealt with somehow.
But then things became even more imminent because her dad then emerged from the front to greet her. No doubt he was curious as to how Earl was doing but, before even being able to get past ‘Hello, Darlene…’ her dad was interrupted by the rudest and most absurd performance that had ever been witnessed about that quiet family home.
‘Mr Furse,’ came Jefferson’s whiny voice, though at a volume as if he was addressing an audience, ‘it is my duty to inform you that your daughter is a slut.’
‘What’s this?’ Clive Furse asked, a frown on his brow as his ears sought to adjust to the peculiar spectacle being performed across his lawn. Darlene open-mouthed and desperate for the right words to say that might bring this nightmare to an end.
‘I said she is a whore,’ Jefferson went on, ‘I declare I have seen her with a man. She is a strumpet; she is a sinner and she brings disgrace upon your family name.’
Oh, please say this isn’t happening, Darlene thought to herself, having no idea which way to turn for help.
For a good half an hour, Kurt had been kicking himself for not thinking more firmly on his feet and protecting his girl there and then. He spent far too long delaying his chase because he did not wish to alarm his dad that there was anything serious going on which, potentially, there was. Then, when he finally set out he managed to hit every red light on the way out of town.
Uncertainty breeds doubt and along the way he found himself asking all kinds of desperate questions as to whether Darlene was in trouble. Perhaps she had been chased off the road already and he had driven on by because, when clarity descended, he felt sure that this fruitcake Jefferson would have found a way to follow her. There is only one main freeway leading from Pacific City to Portland after all, so the guy would not have to be Einstein to relocate the girl he had called a ‘slut’.
They both had a head start on him, but Kurt was the type to put the pedal to the metal and, providing nothing had forced Darlene into making an alternative plan, he was determined to reach the Furse’s residence.
Maybe I should have bought a Porsche after all, he caught himself thinking, but fortunately he found that his vehicle served him well.
It must have been about a mile from the Furse’s house when he caught sight of a familiar looking jeep and – if he wasn’t very much mistaken – a silver Fiesta it appeared to be tailing. Unless it was a very uncanny coincidence, that was his girlfriend’s inherited company car being tailed by a foul-mouthed religious extremist with whom he had a bone to pick.
Kurt guessed a little what the swine must have been up to and held back a tad in order to assess what was his best move. If possible, he would have liked to ensure the gentle Furse family avoided any unhappy drama. That was not achievable, however, and Kurt arrived on the scene in time to hear Jefferson spouting out his self-righteous insults in the direction of Clive and his daughter.
A week or so earlier, Kurt had been considering a means by which to sneak up to Darlene’s bedroom window and it was a peculiar twist of fate that such preparation would return to benefit him now. Had he approached via the drive then Jefferson would have seen him and had plenty of room to flee, but seafarer’s legs don’t often make for sprinter’s legs and he did not want that.
Instead he took advantage of the line of finely pruned fir trees that Clive had been so kind to love and nurture to three times the height of a man. So, it was that he was able to approach a shouting and preaching Jefferson without being seen, until at the last minute when he came out of the shadows and challenged him.
‘What’s all this then?’ he asked, giving Jefferson the time to turn around and face him before planting a fist on the side of his temple.
Jefferson went down like a sack of spuds, immediately trying to get back up, but then falling straight down again as if the brain had taken a few seconds to realize how hard it had been shaken. Kurt had seen boxers knocked out in such a way before; trying to get back up and then falling down again. It was unclear whether Jefferson wanted to get back up to fight him or to run away, though it might just have been the panic at being hit that took him a while to decide to lie still and let the effects wear off.
Kurt felt slightly sorry for him then, in knowing he was the better built of the two – but not that much. Had he been prone to violence he could have hurt the man a lot worse and probably gotten away with it, considering Jefferson had been pursuing a young lady for over fifty kilometers.
Understandably then there was something like chaos on the Furse’s front lawn. Beatrice and even one of the neighbors both ran out to find out what was going on and everyone seemed to have a dozen questions each, that were being directed at no one in particular because it was not obvious who might have all the answers.
Most perturbed was Mr Clive Furse himself (unless you count Jefferson who remained sprawled on the ground), who was trying to take in his daughter’s assurances, deal with questions from Beatrice over what had happened, as well as figuring out why Kurt was there.
At some point clarity reached Kurt through the cacophony and he realized that this was his moment. If anyone could set matters straight it was him and, as it so happened, the chance was exactly what he had wanted.
You see, something unusual had been happening to Kurt over the last few weeks that, probably because he was unused to the notion, caused him a while to clue on to. For sure he was aware that Darlene was something special among his list of bedroom conquests, in that she was different and physically speaking the most desirable of anyone he had ever met. In a short time, he had grown attached to her to the point of not even asking himself the question of how long should this last. Usually he was in the habit of deciding that this or that girl should last for a night, a week or a month. That he had not come to address the question about Darlene had been explained away because it was such an enticing mission of discovery. There was so much more to accomplish and so why cut it short? Although it turned out there was a lot more to his feelings from which there was now no escaping.