Chapter 1

Tustin, California -- October, 2019

Benny was, above all, a practical person. He knew that it was a fool’s errand to expect rational behavior from most people. And per Benny’s pragmatic nature, he accepted, and expected, that the female of the species would, at times, behave in unexpected ways and in an incomprehensible manners, at least per his worldview. He expected the unexpected.

Knowing to accept that what he could not change, Benny had designed his life to avoid the incomprehensible and the unexpected. In contrast to his colleagues, Benny lived a monastic life. Benny sought refuge from the incomprehensible and unexpected in his (almost habitual) long daily runs. Running was simply a continuation of his high school track days. The ‘simpler’ times.

Benny did not miss those ‘simple’ times. But he did cherish the associated memories of high school, as well some college memories. It was memories of the latter year of college that Benny’s mind tended to avoid. He was grateful that he had come to know Charlotte, while also regretful that he had ever come to know the woman.

Entering his house, Benny talked to his cat, his dog, and his home-control computer, in that particular order.

“Hey Worf, how ya doing girl? ... Dax, put the newspaper down, bad boy ... Computer, play messages.”

“Good morning, sir. I trust your run was good. Message one. Douglas Rogers. Hot-Nine project...

“Computer, next message.”

“Annette O’Leary. Venson Project...”

“Computer, next message.”

“Harry Spoons. Unable to provide Motor...”

“Computer, play message.”

“Benson, Harry here. The synchronous motors are no-go. The China supplier fucked it up. We will need an approval for an alternate vendor. Call me when ya can, guy. Oh, are we still on for our holy quest tonight?”

“Computer, Call Harry Spoons.”

“Hey Harry. What the heck happened?...”

“Damn. Okay, but what about the Nakagawa products?...”

“Okay, do it...”

“Yeah, it’s a go. But I don’t want to hear Doris bitching about the way Gary does experience points. Rule number one - no whiners. And if she don’t like what Gary does, just wait until next month when I’m the DM.”

“Okay, what about...”

“Her friend? Why?...”

“Dunno. Gary is the DM, so ask him. He’s gonna have to decide. Look, man, we are pretty far into this one. But I don’t care. If Gary wants to pull some stuff out of the air for more characters, it doesn’t bother me. But they’re three more people you gotta convince.”

“Okay, see ya tonight ... Computer, next message...”

“Bobby, I don’t know, and I do not care. Why are you telling me? Talk to Gary, ya know, the person across the table from you.”

“Anybody know where Harry is?”

“Talked to him this morning. He will be here. His wife is bringing a friend.”

“Say what? Look man, that is not cool. Too late to be inserting characters way late into the campaign.”

“Relax, man. If Gary can’t come up with any weird reasons to be in weird places, and you guys say no, then her friend parks his butt, shuts up, and watches us be the idiots that we are. Okay?”

“It’s all cool, Benny ... sounds like Harry is here.”

“How you doing, Doris? Harry?”

“People, this is...”

Attention was diverted from Doris and Harry and their female guest as Benny dropped his glass of Pepsi onto the table, splattering some onto the playing boards, cards, and dice. Benny completed Harry’s introduction.”

“Charlotte Beckman.”

“You know her? ... Benny, you okay?”

Laguna Hills, Ca -- March, 1993

Charlotte was a romantic; but not a hopeless romantic. She had, thus far, comprehended the male of the species, never seeing anything unexpected in a male’s behavior. For a girl of only seventeen, it was remarkable that Charlotte understood men implicitly. With a consideration of that knowledge, and with some reservations, Charlotte liked most men over women. But her love of men tended towards those of moral and physical strength.

During her high school years thus far, Charlotte sought refuge from her loneliness in her writings of space operas and ‘soft’ science-fiction romance. Charlotte’s internal fantasy life was rich with societal taboos and of imagined relationships with a male of strong character and mind, and of course, a strong body. These internal fantasies were the inspiration for some of her space-opera characters.

Charlotte and Benny both attended Laguna Hills High School. A southern California high school having all the cliched qualities that one would expect. The school was replete with more than the ‘standard’ portions and numbers of tall handsome jocks, hot blondes, and over-qualified teachers. Laguna Hills High School exampled an enclave of the privileged, an icon of wealth, an epitome of American bourgeoisie.

Laguna Hills High School was a Camelot of the 1990s. The school was surrounded by a pocket of Orange County neoliberalism, it was the exemplification of second-generation wealth among working professional boomers. It was before school shootings, fully armed school resource officers, controlled entry through screening points, and prior to strict campus ingress and egress. The school embodied the wealth and freedom to that which America supposedly aspired.

Benny and Charlotte were born into professional families. Families where the parents left their children, if they had any, to their own care, with their own credit cards, and unrestricted access to one of several cars parked in front of their McMansions.

Benny and Charlotte were singular offspring, without the benefits and detractors of siblings. Benny and Charlotte had learned to welcome their lone existence by their first entrance into the open spaces of Laguna High School. They were satisfied with their existence, quite unaware of, or concerned with, any greater meaning to living a life.

Charlotte and Benny were typical children of wealth; but they were mostly atypical for the children of wealth. Neither was materialistic. Neither were consumed with fitting into a tribe, not being subject to most peer pressure. And neither had aspired to the physical attributes that most of their peers sought.

Charlotte was not of thin and tall build. She was also not fat, but bearing a weightiness that padded her body with a soft and unassuming carriage. Her one attribute of the peered masses was her natural blonde hair and light blue eyes.

Benny did not aspire to being a ‘buff’ dude. Under six feet of height, he was ignored by the football coaches, but was pursued by the track coach. His musculature was compact and powerful, with a cardio-vascular capacity found only in world-class athletes. Benny had not run thousands of miles to pursue, yet another, track ribbon or trophy. Benny ran long distance to pursue a blanked solitude. Benny’s only ode to the physical ‘norm’ of Laguna Beach High School was his sun-bleached blonde hair and his dark-blue eyes.

One would think that Benny and Charlotte were destined to meet, but this assumes the foolish and impractical, and a belief system in the improbable; that is, fairy tales. In bourgeoisie Southern California, no one meets their perfect mate. The children of the upper classes were taught to never seek the ‘perfect’ mate. They were trained to seek the most economically advantageous mate; a mate that will ensure their continued social status and an increasing economic stratum.

Thus, while Benny and Charlotte knew of each other, neither pursued, or otherwise made themselves available to each other, or anyone else.

Charlotte’s guilty after-school pleasure was watching the track team. They were the least freakish of all the jocks, and to her mind, appeared the most cerebral. She oft noticed, and admired, Benny, as he ran hard and alone. And Benny would occasionally notice Charlotte in the stands, sometimes writing, sometimes reading, sometimes with a distant look. With each pass around the track, Benny’s conscious awareness of Charlotte’s isolated place in the stands, would gradually dissolve her existence into the surroundings.

Easter break found many Laguna High School students going into the mountains to ski, going to Florida, flying to Europe, and other such moneyed leisure activities.

Easter break of his senior year, found Benny running mindless laps around the football field, his parents believing him to be at the beach with friends.

Easter break found Charlotte, in the football stands, writing her latest sci-fi novel, watching the strange, but compellingly handsome jock running with a hard blankness, for an hour. Her parents believed her to be visiting friends in San Juan Capistrano, another wealthy enclave, a few miles to the south.

The coach’s shrill whistle almost launched Charlotte off of the bench.

“Dammit! Benson Harrison! Come here, boy! What the heck are you doing?”

“Coach? What’s up? Just running.”

“Son, I told you no aerobic-intense stuff for at least two days. It’s spring break, stop running. If you want, go to the weight room.”

“Not allowed to do it alone, coach.”

“Okay, you’re right ... Girl! Come here!”

Charlotte jumped out of her skin in response to the athletic instructor.

“Sir? Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re a student right?”

Charlotte nodded a dumbstruck affirmative.

“Good, go with Benny here. If he injures or kills himself, call 911 or something ... You heard me, Benny. Get the heck off of my track.”

“Okay, coach.”

Benny looked at the short blonde. Maybe five feet one inch on a good day, hoping that he did not revolt the girl. As he was about to speak, he noticed the light-blue hue of her widely opened eyes. Benny concluded that the girl was cute, but most likely inaccessible. He figured it was best to ignore his coach, relieving the girl from his coach’s edicts.

“I, uh ... I’m sorry about coach. You don’t need to stop what you’re doing. I’m okay...”

A sudden jolt of remembrance caused Benny to blurt,

“Now I remember. You’re in my English class. Remember when we had to exchange essays back in October? I think I got yours. What’s your name? Beckman?”

Charlotte’s momentary shock at Benny’s revelation muted her response. His review had praised her work. She had frequently re-read his critique. Charlotte had not known that Benny was the commenter, as he had not signed his name.

“Yes, Charly Beckman.”

Benny was reserved; Benny was not shy. He simply did not care of others’ opinions and views. He had no concept of being too forward, or of innocence. To be clear, Benny knew little of the human condition. Thus he was not being particularly brave, nor was Benny being foolish when he asked the short, cute, and well-padded girl into the weight room.

“Cool. If ya want, you can hang out with me in the weight room.”

“I do not think that is a good idea. Would not I have to go through the boy’s locker room?”

Benny’s half-sided grin emerged without scorn as he listened to her manner of speech.

“No, there’s three doors that go into the weight room, because some of the girls’ teams use it.”

“Oh, okay, I guess.”

“I’m not going to do anything dangerous. Just a lot of reps at low weights.”

“ ... uh, okay.”

Benny’s regimen impressed Charlotte. Benny’s workout aroused Charlotte. Benny, having never partaken of any rear-seat teenage sexual shenanigans, did not recognize the body language, the facial expressions, nor the smell that would indicate a state of female sexual arousal. He did wonder why Charlotte was fascinated with the motions of the various elements of his regimen.

“Okay. Done. Uh, Charlotte? You okay?”

“I am fine. Uh, you are done? Is that the way to the girl’s locker room.”

Benny stepped away from the weights, closer to Charlotte. He liked the shade of blue reflected from her eyes.

“Nah, you got to go back out there, and to the other side of the gym, or you can go out there, and cut across the gym ... Charlotte? You wanna go to Laguna Beach and get some eats?”

Charlotte liked the way her name had emitted from Benny’s mouth. She wanted to hear him call her name again. Charlotte could smell the sweat that dampened Benny’s body, noticing the moist surface of his arms. Benny’s odor, to her, was not unpleasant, it was, ‘interesting’.

Benny was quick to interpret her non-response as a ‘no’, stepping back when he realized that he was within her breathing space.

“Charlotte? ... Uh, never mind, see ya, gotta take a shower.”

Charlotte’s flush and unexpected waves of warmth cascaded throughout her torso as she watched Benny pull his shirt off and turn into the boy’s locker room exit. Her sudden bounce off of the weight bench, almost a collapse, caught Benny’s attention. Benny jerked around in time to witness Charlotte’s butt bouncing off of the bench and onto the concrete deck.

“Charlotte! Charlotte? I’ll call 911! I’ll get coach!”

Benny inserted his towel beneath Charlotte’s head, then grabbing another towel to cover her up. Charlie sprinted to Coach Randall’s office, towing the man back, in a mild panic, to the stricken girl.

“Honest, coach. I didn’t do anything. Just told her to sit there and call 911 if something happened. You know I don’t lift much weight. So I figured nothing would happen, and...”