Chapter 28: A Fun Fantasy

October 26, 1996, Rutherford, Ohio

I chuckled, “If you’re serious, you know where to find me.”

She smiled and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I highly doubted she was serious, but then again, as Kara said, stranger things had been known to happen to me. Not to mention the STD test requirement, but I’d had a nearly perfect string with that recently. It had been much more of an issue in the late 80s and early 90s because people weren’t regularly getting tested. It was far more common now.

I walked over to my car, got in, waved, and headed back towards the motel. I resolved to do one thing, and that was take my gun into the room with me. Paul had been pretty clear about it, and had also said guns were prevalent. The last thing I wanted was to bring an open palm to a gun fight.

When I arrived back at the motel, I parked, and before I got into the room, Paul called my name and walked over.

“Turned out OK?”

“The Deputy decided to do what I asked and released me.”

“You’re lucky it was Emmy. She knows us so well that me vouching for you helped.”

“I appreciate it. And you’re right, she IS cute as a button.”

“She does not look thirty, does she?”

“I’d have guessed seventeen or eighteen!”

“Her daughter is almost a spitting image at six.”

“One of my girls is pretty much the spitting image of her mom. And one of my boys is basically my doppelgänger. You said there are no license requirements for the gun, right?”

“That’s right. Worried about Saddler?”

“Deputy Nelson said to cross the street if I saw him coming. I think I’ll feel better with my pistol close.”

He nodded in agreement and I went to the car, unlocked the case with the ammunition and loaded two magazines. I put on the holster, then unlocked the case with the gun. I inserted the magazine, racked the slide to chamber a round, double-checked the safety, then slipped the pistol into the holster. I closed the trunk and went back to where Paul was standing.

“9mm?” he asked.

“Yes. And hollow-point rounds. Never had to fire in anger and hope to never have to. If I do, I’ll put whoever it is down before they can blink. A Navy firearms instructor and a US Marshal taught me combat shooting. I shot the equivalent of ‘Expert’. Both my friends are better! I shoot pretty regularly with one of my staff for practice.”

“Did you ever hunt?”

“No. The father of a girl I dated briefly was a hunter and he offered to take me out, but the girl and I broke up before that happened. You?”

“When I was a teenager. Can’t own a gun now because of the felony on my record.”

“That sucks, especially given they, in effect, put you in jail for having sex with your wife.”

“They didn’t quite see it that way.”

I nodded, “I’m sure. So, about the double-occupancy?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

“If you’re sure.”

Paul smiled, “If you did what I’m pretty sure you did, torquing that jackass is all the extra payment I need. He has another daughter, you know,” he added with a sly look on his face.

“She’s fifteen. That’s ten to twenty, not two. And that’s if they’re nice. How long after you got out did you and Liz marry?”

“Well, I couldn’t see her until she turned eighteen without violating the terms of my parole, and there were other complications so it was a few months before I could see her. I got out in February, she turned eighteen in March, and we married in December. Twelve years and two kids later we’re successful motel and restaurant owners. Well, we have notes on both of them, but we make a nice living and eventually we’ll own them free and clear. That’s our retirement - we’ll sell and head someplace interesting.”

“Got any ideas?”

“Colorado is the number one at the moment, but we’ll see in thirty years or so. It might depend on where the kids end up. You have an exit strategy?”

“Not yet. That was part of why I was meeting with Bill Ivarstad.”

“Did you know Winter was engaged to his grandson?”

“She told me.”

“There was always something odd about that kid, but I could never put my finger on it. I think Winter is better off without him.”

“So does she.”

“You should come back. You seem like good people.”

“Thanks.”

We shook hands and he turned to go to the office and I went into my room. I shut the door, walked over to the kitchenette and picked up the bottle of bourbon. I sighed and set it back down because I had my gun. If I wanted the drink, I had to put the gun away. Pete and I always locked our guns in my study for Guys’ Night, and we were both careful about how much we drank, and monitored each other.

“Fuck it,” I said.

I walked back outside, took off the holster, locked it in the trunk, then went back inside and poured myself a couple of ounces of bourbon. I took a couple of sips, then walked over to the couch. I turned on the radio, plopped down and sipped my bourbon. I really wished I had my pipe, but both Birgit and Jessica had been in the room while I was packing and I hadn’t felt like having THAT argument again.

I didn’t really feel like doing anything, but I decided I should at least write out the basic turn of events for the day. I took out my PowerBook, opened my journal, and began to type. As I did, I thought about calling home, but decided the events of the afternoon were better relayed face-to-face, especially because I wanted to see Kara’s reaction to the encounter with Vickie’s dad. I’d also need to raise the issue of Winter’s suggestion, and that led me to wonder more about Maria Cristina.

Having thought about it for nearly two weeks, I was reasonably sure that Bethany was correct with regard to what amounted to a disparity in power and the likely inability of Maria Cristina to truly separate the mentoring and education side of our deal from the voluntary (in my mind) sexual relationship.

Bethany had recently begun talking more about the power disparity in intimate relationships and I understood what she meant. It was, at its core, the issue that led to the policy at the dojo about sex between instructors and students, and even if not expressly stated, to the policies at NIKA which I was violating with Eve. It would actually be the case in any situation where I was viewed as having any kind of influence over the young woman’s future, from karate promotions to hiring to raises and bonuses.

There was also the issue of life experience which had to be taken into account. The larger the gap in years, and the younger any potential partner was, the easier it would be for me to manipulate them into doing what I wanted. I’d argued with Bethany that teenage boys did their best to manipulate teenage girls, and despite having similar ages and similar life experience, the boys were often very successful. From her perspective, that reinforced HER point, from my perspective, it reinforced MINE.

For Bethany, it showed that naïveté was the issue, and that once the girls gained life experience, they wouldn’t be so easy to manipulate. I agreed, but countered that her example effectively proved that it WASN’T age that was the issue, and that she was using it as a proxy for naïveté. My counterexample was Sakurako, who at fourteen was not naïve in any way, shape, or form. She’d been, in many ways, far less ‘childish’ than Meredith, who was a good four years older. In fact, there was NOTHING ‘childish’ about Sakurako.

Bethany had argued that the submissive nature of conservative Japanese women had, in effect, forced Sakurako’s actions, but I disagreed, strongly. I knew very few women who were more in control of themselves, their emotions, or their futures than that young woman in Japan. It was precisely the thing which Bethany felt was the problem which was actually Sakurako’s greatest strength.

In the end, I’d pointed out to Bethany that there would nearly always be a power disparity of some kind, and that in any developed country, it was the women who held all the power because they were the ones who had something men wanted. I’d pointed out that it was simply wrong to blame men if women failed to use their innate power to their own advantage, and Sakurako was a prime example.

I had so many examples of women who DID use their innate power - Elena Altieri, Samantha Spurgeon, Jeri Lundgren, Inao Mitsuko, Ailea Palmer, Eve Falvey, and on and on. Some of them, at very young ages. Bethany’s counter was that they had experiences which were out of the ordinary, and I once again pointed out that her ‘age disparity’ proxy was a failed measure.

To me, the last two weeks with Winter had confirmed my point, but not exactly in the way I would have thought. It had driven home the difference between kids raised in rural areas and kids raised in urban areas. The suburbs, at least for the moment were in between, but seemed to me to be moving towards urban-style coddling and control, and unless I missed my guess, the soccer mom trend was going to make things actually worse in the ‘burbs.

I laughed out loud at the idea of a soccer mom because despite numerous attempts, the game had failed to catch on in the US. People lived and died by the game everywhere else in the world, but long, low-scoring games with no natural breaks for commercials would never get advertiser support, which meant no TV, which meant no revenue, which ultimately spelled doom for professional teams. Maybe that would change, but I couldn’t see it happening unless the NFL and Major League Baseball really blew it. Of course, in my opinion they had, but I was in the minority.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that except for the cousins, the most mature, clear-thinking kids I’d met were from rural areas. Those areas had always been the bulwark of America, but now urbanization was taking hold in ever-increasing ways, and despite my love of the big city, I saw how it might ultimately destroy the «kami» of America. Although I had become a ‘city boy’ I didn’t think like a ‘city boy’, and neither did my closest friends, all of whom came from more rural areas - Kara, Elyse, Jennifer, Kathy, Bethany, Ed, and Pete from Clermont County, Julia from rural Idaho, Kurt from the Pittsburgh suburbs, Josie from outside Minneapolis, Cindi from rural Wisconsin, Jackie from outside Rockford, and so on.

All of us had very different ideas about family and society from our friends who were urban. There were a few exceptions - Samantha and Jeri, for example - but their views were shaped by being SO wealthy that they could effectively do what they pleased. And thinking about that made me wonder what had happened in the search for Noel Spurgeon. I’d completely put that out of my mind, and that, along with anything to do with work, had been ‘off limits’ in my talks with my wives and kids. Kimmy had agreed to only call me if there was a crisis, and she hadn’t called, so I knew there wasn’t.

My thoughts, and my typing, were interrupted by a firm knock on the door. I looked at my watch and started laughing. I set my computer on the coffee table, got up from the couch, and went to the door.

“Deputy Nelson,” I grinned. “I take it this is a social call?”

She laughed softly, “I do have my cuffs with me, so it could go either way!”

I laughed and took a step back, allowing her to step into the motel room and for me to close the door.

“Don’t get too many guys who flirt with you and tease about handcuffs?”

She shook her head, “Oh, I do - all the time. But the vast majority of the clowns who make those jokes have NO idea what they’re talking about, and, I suspect, no idea what to do!”

“And me?”

She cocked her head sideways, “Something tells me that you are a man of great and varied experience.”

“Perhaps! I was just writing in my journal and having a glass of bourbon. It’s Knob Creek; would you like a glass?”

“Don’t mind if I do. That’s a big step up from Budweiser or whatever bottom-shelf brand guys at the bar buy me.”

“You need a classier bar,” I replied.

“In Rutherford? Fat chance of that! I’d have to go to Columbus or Cincinnati, or maybe Dayton.”

I went to the kitchen and poured some bourbon for Deputy Nelson and brought it back to her.

“So, Deputy Nelson, what’s your take?”

“First, it’s Emmy. I might have the uniform, nightstick, cuffs, and gun on me, but I’m off duty.”

“Speaking of which, you wouldn’t mind putting your gun in your car while we drink, would you?”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Alcohol and guns are a VERY bad combination,” I replied. “My friend the Deputy US Marshal and I lock our handguns in my desk in my study, or some other safe place, before we drink.”

“You carry?”

“All the time at home. Generally don’t see the need here, but I did think about it after you warned me about the preacher. But then I wanted bourbon more than I was worried about him. I figure he’s not likely to bring a gun and I’m a black belt in karate.”

“So is Liz’s brother, Mike.”

I nodded, “Paul told me. And you told me he was your first lover.”

“First serious boyfriend, I believe I said.”

“I know the code,” I chuckled.

She laughed, took a sip of her bourbon, then gestured, “Fifteen years ago, this month, in those apartments just down from Lou’s! You?”

I grinned, took my own sip, “May of 1977 in the bedroom of a widow in Milford, Ohio.”

“‘77? How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

“And HER?”

“What’s the statute of limitations?” I asked with a grin.

“I’m off duty, and unless you’re filing a complaint, who the fuck cares?”

“Twenty-three. Her husband died in Vietnam.”

“You must have been the happiest fourteen-year-old boy in the entire state of Ohio!”

“Probably! And the look in your eyes told me that you were a very happy girl!”

She nodded and sipped her bourbon, “I was clueless, but he was patient and, well, yeah...”

“McKinley isn’t all that far from here, is it? Just over an hour?”

“That’s right.”

“So what happened?”

“We dated for the Summer, but it was never intended to be a permanent thing at the time. He went to college; I wanted dates for football games and dances. Then later, by the time I graduated, he’d changed a lot and I’d changed a lot, and with everything else, it just made sense we never tried to get back together. I moved here from West Monroe, and moved in with my cousin Leslie. It was her apartment Mike and I had used. I worked at Lou’s, got my Associates in Criminal Justice from Rutherford Junior College, applied to the Sheriff’s department and was sworn in a couple of days after my 21st birthday.”

“You met your husband then?”

“He’d been a Deputy for about four years at that point. We hit it off, started dating, and then got hitched in 1988. Our daughter was born two years later. Then, in ‘94, the previous Sheriff retired and Al, my husband, talked about running. I tried to talk him out of it because I felt he’d make a terrible Sheriff. He’s a good deputy but he can be a real prick at times, and he believes every suspect is guilty.”

“Like the idiots they show on COPS, who despite the disclaimer, see everyone as guilty and, funnily enough, they only show the guilty folks.”

Emmy laughed, “That was his favorite show. Guess it says everything right there. Anyway, another Deputy, Greg Bonner, decided to run as well. He’s a guy you’d have a beer with and who would send a Deputy to help you get your cow back in the pen. Salt of the earth type. Not a stupid liberal, but also believes you should cut people some slack.”

“The way you did today?”

She nodded, “I was pretty sure I knew what happened as soon as Paul vouched for you. I know a gentleman doesn’t talk about it, but I hope to hell you DID pop her cherry. Teach that old fart a lesson.”

“‘Old fart’? Not ‘the good Reverend’?”

“On duty versus off,” she grinned. “Anyway, when it came right down to it, I told Al that he should stick to patrol and not run for Sheriff. We had a fight about it and I told him I was not only going to vote for Greg, but publicly support him. We both knew that would be the death knell for Al’s campaign, which was what I wanted. He obviously didn’t. I got served with divorce papers two days later, so when I did endorse Greg, Al made it out to be sour grapes. But the rest of the deputies knew me, and I have a lot of friends who knew the truth. Greg won about 80% of the vote.”

“And Al stuck with it?”

“He’s a Harding County boy if there ever was one. Well, Mike pretty much is, too, minus college and medical school. Al really couldn’t do any job except law enforcement. That leaves the Sheriff’s department. There aren’t any cities big enough to warrant their own police force in the county except Rutherford, and they only have a six-man force. Most towns just contract with the Sheriff to do their police work. We have joint jurisdiction with the Rutherford PD.”

“You have to admit it’s pretty shitty to have your wife oppose you for political office.”

“Him being Sheriff would have been shittier, and for the whole damned county.”

“And no man in your life?”

“I’ve dated, but most guys can’t deal with a girl who’s not only a better shot but could kick their ass if necessary. Not to mention having a kid kind of interferes with entertaining, if you know what I mean.”

“Handcuffs and nightstick?” I grinned, taking a sip of bourbon.

“Something like that!”

“Who’s watching your daughter?”

“She’s with Al until tomorrow morning. We’re amicable because of Carrie.”

“Did he remarry?”

“No. Last Spring he found some nineteen-year-old stripper to play with his nightstick. I insist the airhead bimbo doesn’t stay the night when he has Carrie.”