Here is your word of warning. There is a cuckold in this story, whether or not he remains one plays out as the story goes on. If you read the description, you can already guess where this one is headed. Once again Thanks to PapaGus and his deft hand for editing this.
The headlights of my Suburban pierce the inky night, leading me back to a place I thought I'd never see again. Bad memories lurk ahead as well as possible arrest. My ex-wife Shawna is definitely still in town as are most of our mutual friends from our marriage.
I had managed to avoid contact with anyone from my home town of Lee Oklahoma, in fact for over a full decade I have not even stepped foot in the Sooner State. I would still be cozy, snuggled up with my girl Jasmine in my house in North Platte Nebraska tonight, but my job now requires that I return home for at least three days. My name is Dean Baker, but I have always been known as Ginger.
My Aunt Tori, who raised me after my parents were imprisoned when I was two years old for their part in a plot to blow up federal buildings, loved the band Cream. She especially had a thing for their drummer Ginger Baker. Since the man who had knocked up her sister was named Baker, she made her love for me known by giving me the nick name, and once she called me Ginger at a school assembly more kids knew me as Ginger than as Dean.
I loved my aunt more than life itself and spent my youth doing everything I could to avoid disappointing her. Once when I was eight, she caught me playing with a book of matches that a friend at school had given me. She didn't kick my ass, yell, or even threaten to send me away. She sat and talked to me about what I had done. While her words didn't make any more of an impression on me than any parent's words do on any kid, the profound disappointment on her face still haunts me to this day.
A lot of the boys I grew up with thought I was a sissy for never participating in their shenanigans but I would have rather faced ridicule than risk disappointing the one person in the world who cared for me. Looking back, maybe realizing that my aunt knew I was only human would have led me down a better path.
I was also cripplingly shy. While I wasn't an ostracized nerd picked on and chased by bullies daily, I also wasn't ever seen running around with the "in" crowd. I did however have a reputation for not taking shit from anyone.
One of the best things Aunt Tori did for me was enrolling me in a martial arts class each summer. Her best friend ran the karate school and as a favor to her took me under his wing. She got a free baby sitter, and I learned self-defense and discipline. I have only used karate twice in my life. Once was when a guy in Oklahoma City tried to snatch Aunt Tori's purse, the other was when Chip Dillingworth moved to Lee from Clearwater.
Simply put, Chip was an asshole. The only people he didn't fuck with were his few jock buddies and whatever girl he was trying to screw. One night around homecoming Chip took it upon himself to single me out and try to make my life hell. Many of the other jocks just ignored me and this occasion was no different. I guess I was just no fun to abuse.
It happened when I was walking to the school to meet my class for a float building meeting. Usually I would have skipped it and just went with the flow when it came time to build. Aunt Tori had insisted that since it was my senior year I should participate more.
I was nearing the school just as football practice was letting out. All of the team ran by as if I wasn't there except Chip. Chip smacked me in the back of my head as he passed and then stopped and began yelling in my face for "being in his way."
I could see a handful of player turn around to see what was going on, and some that had been behind Chip stopped to watch. I told Chip he should watch where he was running because everyone else had managed to avoid bumping me.
Seeing his fellow players gathering, he must have felt I had insulted him. His face turned red and I think I knew what he was going to do before he did. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. He tossed his helmet aside and drew back his fist. Just as his fist started forward I heard one of the players say "Chip! Coach is coming."
Chip was already in motion. I easily sidestepped his punch and he swung in a full circle. A few players laughed and he drew back again. This time when he threw the punch I caught his wrist in my hand and used his own force to send him sprawling across the ground.
This only served to infuriate him more and he just flew at me. As he rushed me this time, I grabbed his shoulder pad and used a judo move to send him flying ass over tea kettle along the sidewalk. He landed hard enough to almost knock the air out of him. I sprung back to my feet and was upright almost before he fully came to rest.
"Fuck man! Where'd you learn to do that?" one of the guys nearby asked. That was when I made my big mistake. I looked at the guy and was about to answer him when Chip got up and threw his next punch.
I didn't have time to avoid the punch. I was going to either defend against it or get hit, and if I could help it I wasn't going to get hit.
I started both of my hands toward his wrist hoping they'd cross under his forearm and force the blow up over my head, but I misjudged his punch. It wasn't coming as fast as I thought and my hands hit his arm on either side causing his forearm to snap.
I heard a high pitched scream and someone threw up. When all was said and done his football season was done. The coaches had witnessed the whole thing and let me go.
Chip moved from Lee just before Christmas.
Soon word spread around the school and people pretty much left me alone. It didn't make me accepted or popular, but even the jack offs thought good and hard about messing with me. Unfortunately unlike in the movies, the girls didn't flock to me seeking to have me father their children.
I wasn't, and am still not, a bad looking guy. But I never had a girl in school. I know many of the girls liked what they saw and would have been with me had I the courage to ask any of them. I didn't so I was probably one of a very few virgins to graduate Lee High that year.
The two years after I graduated high school were spent working. One of my aunt's friends got me a job at the rail yard. While other guys my age were out banging quim or altering their perceptions chemically, I spent six nights a week throwing switches in the rail yard. I would work ten hours a night and then sleep all day while Aunt Tori worked her shift at the bank.
My original plan had been to work for two years and then use the money I made to go to college. In my biggest dreams I would enroll in Norman and be a Sooner. Reality meant I might stretch and reach Tulsa, but neither was to be.
I was three days away from putting in my two weeks' notice at the yard. My supervisors had been trying hard to talk me into staying on. Dale Armstrong, the big yard's big boss, finally came in early one morning and offered to send me to the local community college on the railroad's dime if I'd stay on a permanent basis. Knowing how much my aunt wanted to see me go to school and make something of myself I knew I had to talk this over with her.
Because of my meeting with Mr. Armstrong I didn't get home before Aunt Tori left for work. That meant I'd have to talk to her that evening when she got home. I had a hard time getting to sleep. My mind played over every scenario of my upcoming discussion, but I couldn't imagine any where she would be disappointed. I knew she'd help me to make the best decision for my future.
I was awakened by bells ringing. I knew it wasn't my alarm clock, but in my haze I punched the snooze button anyway. I looked at the clock and saw it was 5:00. Maybe my aunt had locked herself out. I then realized I was hearing the phone as well as the doorbell.
I jumped out of bed and headed down the hall. The phone stopped ringing as I reached for it, but the doorbell persisted. I opened the door to find Lee police officers Jim Crocker and David Brenner on my doorstep. I knew in an instant that my world had changed.
As I was meeting with Dale that morning Robert Brown, Aldon Nash, and Jennifer Day were gunning down a gas station clerk in Arkansas. Driving at break neck speed across the state used a lot of their gas, necessitating another gas station robbery. The second clerk only got his skull fractured with a pistol butt.
The trio then drove into Oklahoma but started running low on fuel again as they neared Lee. One of the trio decided that robbing gas station after gas station was no kind of existence and figured to rob a bank so that they buy gas as they went on the lam.
Two blocks from the bank the Ford Fairmont the trio were driving succumbed due the harsh treatment it had gotten all day and refused to go another foot. Nonplussed the trio headed into the bank. As they were entering the bank one of them noticed my aunt's two year old Impala in the parking lot.
After holding all of the tellers and the three customers at gun point while the cash drawers were emptied, one of them demanded to know who owned the blue Impala in the lot. Aunt Tori admitted it was hers and offered the keys. She was shot in the face for her effort.
The trio was apprehended two days later in Pueblo Colorado. After a fifteen minute shoot out at a cheap motel just off of Interstate 25, Day and Brown were in an ambulance heading for emergency surgery while Nash was being bagged in the room.
Day would die two hours later on the operating table and Brown would get 125 years in federal prison for his crimes.
.... There is more of this story ...