Chapter 2

Some things bring more change than you might expect. For example, last night, Mr. Schmidt gave me permission to court his daughter. But I never expected to step out of the shower and find her in my bedroom.

I finished my shower, stepped out onto the bathmat and reached for a towel. Through the open bathroom door, I saw Rebecca looking through my closet. She wore a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers.

I snatched that towel and jumped right back into the shower. While drying my arms and back, I called over the curtain, “Good morning, Miss Schmidt.”

“Momma thought you might need help picking out clothes for church.”

“Great idea, thank you.”

After drying off, I knotted the towel around my waist and stepped back out of the shower. Rebecca turned around holding a pair of pants and a shirt. Her cheeks colored pink as she realized what I wore.

From out in the hallway Mrs. Schmidt called, “Rebecca?”

Rebecca laid my clothes on the bed, “Wear these.” She waved and left the room. The door closed with a click.

How interesting, had she come in here with her mom’s permission?

I came down for breakfast which Mrs. Schmidt and Rebecca were busy getting finished. Mrs. Schmidt took a few seconds to inspect my outfit and gave Rebecca a nod. Mr. Schmidt came down next and gave me a once over as well. Tommy came in from outside. While we ate, Rebecca told me about the church service and how I needed to behave. Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt filled in the occasional detail. Tommy just stared at me as if I had grown antlers.

I followed the Schmidts to church. Before we left, I lobbied for Rebecca to ride with me. “In case I get lost.” Mr. Schmidt smiled and gave me Tommy.

On the way to our vehicles, Mr. Schmidt told me, “Nice try, young man.”

Tommy couldn’t wait to ask why I was going to church with them. I told him I was courting his sister and that meant going to church. Tommy said something odd. “Aren’t you afraid of the Hansleins?”

“Who?”

“Klaus Hanslein and his son.”

I remembered Klaus at the grocery store. “The guy at the grocery store who grabbed your sister?”

“Yeah, he always liked Rebecca.”

“Did Rebecca like him back?”

“No way, all the girls think Junior’s creepy.”

“What about his dad then, Klaus Senior?”

“He’s scary; you should talk to my dad about him.”

I asked Tommy some more questions but he would not say anything else.

The Schmidts are moderate, not conservative, Mennonites. As such, the service at their church was similar to the Lutheran service I grew up with. We all sat together, I was between Rebecca and Tommy. The biggest difference was the lack of an organ or other type of musical accompaniment. Instead, they sang a cappella. Like any group of church people, some few sang in key, many of them did not, but they all sang with enthusiasm.

After the service, the Schmidts acquainted me with their peers. “This is Kevin Butcher of Fulton County. He is a former serviceman and now self-employed in the electronics industry. Mr. Butcher also attends college and studies Electrical Engineering.” Almost as an afterthought, they added that their daughter Rebecca and I were courting.

Rebecca and I received several invitations to visit people’s homes. I was not sure how to respond, but Rebecca nodded so I accepted with thanks.

Most of the people I met greeted me in a warm and friendly manner. Several, all distant Hanslein relatives, did not. A few of the younger single men glowered at me when told that Rebecca and I were courting. Later, Mr. Schmidt told me that he and Mrs. Schmidt had a few errands to run. Would I mind driving Rebecca and Tommy back to their house?

Tommy smirked when he volunteered to ride in the back seat. On the way back home, I asked Rebecca if any of those young men had been old boyfriends.

Miffed, Rebecca replied, “I haven’t had any real boyfriends before you.”

“As pretty as you are, the guys at school had to be chasing you.”

“It started in the eighth grade...”

Shortly after Rebecca started eighth grade, several older boys started sniffing around. This group of older boys included one senior named Klaus Hanslein Junior. Rebecca spurned all but one of these boys. The one she accepted was in the ninth grade. This boy would carry her books, and they would talk, whenever they walked to the same class. Rebecca admitted to being fond of this boy and mused that if they were of age, they might have courted.

Gym class for the boys featured a rough and tumble game called Corner Ball. During one such match, a freak accident occurred involving Rebecca’s boyfriend and Klaus Junior. Her boyfriend ended up in the hospital and later, with no explanation, he and his family moved to Ohio.

Due to his poor grades and attendance problems Klaus Junior repeated twelfth grade. Klaus entertained himself by harassing eighth and ninth grade girls. He liked to trap them in the library or the auditorium. A few of the girls were so intimidated that they allowed Klaus to do whatever he wanted. This only emboldened him and he refocused his attentions on Rebecca. Rebecca, then in the ninth grade, enjoyed the attentions of several boys. At least until Klaus made his interests clear. One of Rebecca’s admirers defied Junior but ended up with bruises and a black eye. The rest of her beaus scattered like chaff. Two days later, while Rebecca worked on a book report, Klaus cornered her in the library stacks. He managed to grope her, but when he bent to kiss her, she kneed him in the balls. Klaus collapsed to the floor and Rebecca ran to the librarian for help.

The principal found Klaus Junior curled into a fetal position and called 911. The EMTs examined the damaged area and transported him to the hospital. With Klaus out of school, many of his victims came forward. The principal expelled Klaus Junior soon after.

Klaus Senior hired a lawyer and sued to keep Junior in school. At the trial, the schools lawyer offered into evidence statements from Junior’s victims and several color pictures of Junior’s bruised and swollen testicles. The judge reviewed the pictures and winced, “Res ipsa loquitur” the thing speaks for itself. The trial lasted a few hours and the judge decided in favor of the school. Soon after, Junior dropped out of school.

After the civil trial, rumors abounded that Klaus Senior paid a significant amount of money to keep the District Attorney from bringing criminal charges against his son.

Back at the farmhouse, Rebecca and her mother gave me a crash course in how to behave in a modest manner. There would be no kissing in public. There would be minimal public displays of affection. When alone, it would be permissible to be more affectionate. Mrs. Schmidt pointed out that, even in private, our displays of affection needed to be proper. I declined to ask for clarification.

After lunch we took a walk around the farm buildings. When no one could see us, I stopped and pulled Rebecca to me and we kissed. “I hope that was a proper kiss. I wouldn’t want to disappoint your mom.” Rebecca laughed.

My favorite part of the work week was coming home. Weather permitting, Rebecca would meet me at my truck when I pulled in. Rebecca and I took our time walking around the house to the kitchen door. We would turn the corner, and once out of sight, we would stop for a few kisses. Becky liked kissing.

One day I touched her lips with my tongue. She jumped, her eyes popping open, and she pulled her head back. I grinned. Rebecca fixed me with her beautiful blue eyes and gave me an impish smile. She leaned in and kissed me back; this time her tongue traced my lips. I met hers with mine and we shared a delicate full kiss. Becky’s hands began to squeeze my shoulders and arms; I responded by pulling her to me. Our mouths pressed harder against each other and the kiss became heated. I felt myself stiffen and Becky pushed against me. My hands slid down far enough to touch the swell of her buttocks.

“Rebecca? You better check the biscuits,” Mrs. Schmidt called out from the kitchen.

We broke apart, both of us breathing hard. We glanced around but didn’t see anyone. I told her, “I want more of that.”

Becky just said, “After dinner.” She checked her hair and dress, took my arm and we walked to the kitchen door.

On the weekends, if I didn’t need to work, we would take long walks around the farm. Rebecca gave me a tour of all the buildings. Our favorite was the old barn and she knew all the hiding spots. There was a rope swing, piles of hay, and a loft. Mrs. Schmidt warned us not to come back covered with hay. Rebecca’s solution was to stash an extra blanket up in the loft. The first time she went up the ladder and reached for the blanket, I stood below her. And I got an amazing view: not all the way up, but almost.

“Oh, sweetheart, you have beautiful legs.”

Rebecca looked down and saw where I was looking. “You ... you looked up my...” and she threw the blanket over my head.

You know that sudden sinking sensation when you realize that you screwed up? That horrible, awful bottomless sensation? “Sweetheart, it wasn’t like that, I just stood here to catch you if you fell, not that I don’t want to see err look at your ah ... but I wasn’t trying to.”

I pulled the blanket off my head in time to see her vanish around a stack of hay bales.

My girlfriend may be a slender little wisp of a girl, but she is a farm girl and she is strong. How strong? Just remember how badly she injured Klaus Junior when he tried to take liberties. I swallowed and held the blanket in front of me as I followed her around the bales.

Rebecca waited for me, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. Her face was red. If from anger or embarrassment, I could not tell. I stopped, just out of knee range.

“I’m sorry Becky. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

She let out her breath and her face regained its normal color. “Do you really think I have nice legs?”

I nodded, “You could model lingerie.”

She helped me spread the blanket on top of the loose hay.

After dinner, I studied analog beam forming while Rebecca cleaned. I did not realize how focused I was until her lips touched the back of my neck. “I’m done cleaning, want to show me the pictures of your house?”

The seat on my side of the kitchen table is a long bench. I slid over and she sat next to me. I slid my laptop and wireless mouse over to Rebecca and showed her the Picture folder. There were several sub folders, named for different projects. I directed her to the one named, Home. Rebecca clicked through the pictures and I added context and comments. She liked my house, if not the colors that I chose for the walls and trim. It pleased me to learn that she disliked the Country decorating style. While looking at pictures of my deck, she said, “You have a hot tub!”

Rebecca had read about hot tubs, even seen them on the television, but had never been in one. She thought it would be enjoyable, even fun, or relaxing, but she had one question: “What do you wear in your hot tub?”

I told her if I was alone, I didn’t wear anything. But, if she wanted to climb in it with me, she could wear whatever she wanted. She clicked through the pictures, and I put my left hand under the table and on her knee. Rebecca gave me a little glance but didn’t say anything. I drew little circles on her knee.

“I should take a day and go back to my house and make sure everything is OK.”

Rebecca sighed, “I wish I could go with you.”

“Why can’t you? Talk to your mom. We would be back in six or eight hours.”

Rebecca looked interested. I leaned over and kissed a sensitive spot on her neck. She shivered as I pulled away, and in a quiet voice I said, “It would be a shame if my truck broke down and we had to stay there overnight.”

“I’ll talk to Momma.”

I reached for my laptop and opened a picture of my hot tub, “You could pack a swimming suit—or not.” Rebecca dragged me out to the porch where we “discussed the possibilities” in depth.

Interlude: Kitchen, Schmidt Farm

“So daughter, how are things with Mr. Butcher?”

“Fine Momma, but I wish that we could spend more time together. He works late most nights and his job is only going to last a few more months.”

“Hmmm, well you don’t want to rush something like this, but I understand the problem. Tell me, is he respecting your boundaries?”

“Yes, Momma, he is pretty good at pushing my boundaries, but he’ll stop when I ask. He says that he values our relationship more than, ‘getting some.’”

“Now daughter, how are you doing with your boundaries?”

“Um, Momma, like I said, he is good at pushing my boundaries, sometimes I want to do more. If he pushed harder, I’m not sure if I would stop.”

“I understand what you mean. What you are experiencing is both a curse and a blessing. Some women live their whole lives and never know the true pleasure of the marriage bed. Going back in our family, our women have never had that particular problem. I can give you some suggestions, but you must be honest with me. Is Kevin Butcher the one? Are you going to marry him and have his babies?”

“Yes Momma, if he’ll marry me.”

“Don’t worry about that, we will bind him to you.”

It was our third week of courting and we still had not resolved how Rebecca and I could go out on dates. Rebecca was pushing that one, or more, of her girlfriends serve as chaperones. I thought about taking her posse to the movies. Wednesday at dinner, Mr. Schmidt announced that the county fair had started. Would I like to go with them on Friday? Friday night’s featured activities were a tractor pull and fireworks! Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt informed me the normal rules of public behavior would be more relaxed. For example, in a crowded area, Rebecca could take my arm, or we could hold hands. Tommy would be our chaperone anytime his sister and I were out of sight of the parents. The Schmidts took pains to explain that this would be to prevent gossip of improper behavior.

Arriving early on Friday turned out to be smart as the closest parking lot only had a few spaces left. I did not mind the crowds at all because they gave Rebecca all the excuse she needed to take my arm. We set out with Tommy and I bought him anything he wanted. At the pistol marksmanship booth, I won a giant teddy bear for Rebecca. The only downside was having to run it out to my truck. By the time we finished the circuit of game and food trucks, Tommy and I were best friends.

Becky and I enjoyed rides like the Tilt-A-Whirl and the Scrambler because they crushed us together. Afterwards, we rode anything that gave us an excuse to sit close to each other. At the head of the line for the Haunted House, Tommy didn’t notice me tip the ride operator to send him in alone. Becky and I had a car to ourselves and we took advantage of the darkness. Tommy stood at the exit, and he smiled and waved to us. He was afraid of getting in trouble because losing us meant he failed his chaperone duties.

I told him, “You and I are buddies, I won’t tell your parents you screwed up.”

Later, as the sun started to go down, we moved towards the dining pavilion where we were to meet Rebecca and Tommy’s parents. Along the way, we passed a concrete block bathroom and I suggested we make a pit stop. There was a line inside the men’s facilities and it took longer than I expected. I came out drying my hands, looked for, but did not see Rebecca.

There was a commotion around the side of the building. It sounded like someone was fighting.

The corner was only a few steps away and I heard Rebecca and she sounded scared. A gruff male voice said, “Whore.” There was the sound of fabric tearing.

Rounding the corner, I saw Rebecca with three men. Two held her arms, and the third with his hands on the front of her dress, was Klaus Hanslein Junior. All three of the thugs had their eyes fixed on Rebecca. I needed their attention on me. I growled, “Hey, let the girl go.”

Klaus Junior turned and sized me up, “Butcher, I’ve been waiting for this. I’m gonna fuck you up, then I’m gonna fuck your girlfriend.” He squared up on me, assumed a boxer’s crouch and swung a right roundhouse at my head.

Junior was fast, but he telegraphed his swing and I side stepped it. As his fist moved past my head, I took hold of his wrist and elbow. Using his momentum, I twisted his arm down and around until I felt the ‘pop’ of his shoulder dislocating. Releasing his elbow, I held his now useless arm out by his wrist and delivered two punishing strikes to his right kidney. He grunted with the first punch, staggered, and started to collapse with the second. I released his wrist and allowed him to fall to the ground.