She said she wanted to get to know me.

I am Chuck Carmichael; at the time of this tale of woe, I was 33, never married, and never even been on a date. That is why when Sara Masters sat at my table during my lunch break I wondered what she wanted. I had seen Sara around the plant and knew she worked in the Plant Supervisor’s office.

“Hi Chuck, can I join you?” Sara asked expectantly.

“I guess; nobody sits at the table when I am here so there is a lot of space.” I added somewhat snidely; “Why are you slumming with the company loser?” As I was talking, I got up and pulled out a chair for her.

“Who said you were a loser? I have never heard anyone calling you that.” Then she added; “I know that the management team thinks you are more of a winner.”

“OK, so that still doesn’t answer why you would want to sit with me.”

“You want the truth, or should I tell you there were no other places in this almost empty lunchroom?”

I laughed; “OK, you obviously wanted to sit with me. Now my question is; ‘Why?’ I am not known to be a great conversationalist, and most people in the plant stay away from me at lunch and breaks. I have had people try to talk to me, and I generally piss off the ones that try to talk to me.”

Sara looked like she was thinking; “All right, I wanted to sit with you because you are ‘the man of mystery’ among the people in the offices. I have admired your general demeanor and your attitude while you are working. I see others who do not keep up with the way the machines change during the shifts. I also know that the talk in the office is that you should be a team leader or foreman but you have turned it down at least three times and the last time told your supervisor that if asked again you would quit.”

“OK, now that you’re here, what do you want to know?”

“I want to know two major things that are actually none of my business. First, are you gay? All of the ladies have noticed that you don’t watch them like you were sizing them up or sight stripping them. Second, are you in a relationship? If you are gay, you don’t look at the guys either.”

I looked at her to see if she was serious. She seemed to be. “You had one thing right; it is none of your business. I resent being part of the office gossip, and if you promise to not tell the other ‘ladies’ I will answer those questions. Do you promise?”

She gulped; “Yes, I promise. I have only eavesdropped, and I will not relate anything we talk about to the gossip pool.”

“I am not gay, but I am not in or looking to be in a relationship. I never date, and I don’t want to date. Does that answer your questions? Oh, and I think it is unprofessional to ogle people, but I know others do it. I try to keep personal matters out of my work life.” Then I added sharply; “I ... Do ... Not ... Date.“

Sara looked at me as if I was someone from another planet. “There has to be a story there, but I will let it go. I am sorry to bother you. It won’t happen again unless you ask me.”

With that, she got up and walked out.

I know that I was not very sociable. I am not very sociable, period. It is a choice I made years ago, and I have seen no reason to change it.

It started because of an incident that occurred when I was 15. I came home early from school because of a boiler breakdown so there was no heat. When I got to my parent’s house, I saw two strange cars in the driveway. They were not some that my parent’s friends drove, and not some of our local relatives drove. I just assumed that it was someone from one of my parent’s work. Mom only worked part-time and had this particular afternoon off. Dad was on an out of town trip for his work.

I walked in the house, and there were two men’s style coats strewn on the kitchen floor and strange noises coming from the master bedroom. I decide to get my baseball bat and go investigate.

When I walked into the bedroom, I saw two men fucking my mother. She was tied to the bed frame with silk scarves and was spread-eagle. One guy was fucking her and the other was feeding her his cock. I also could see that she was obviously a willing participant.

I hit the guy who was fucking her in the chest with a swing for the fences. He not only stopped fucking her, but he also fell off the bed and against the wall. I turned and used my doubles swing to the back of the guy’s head feeding dick to mother before he could get his dick out of her mouth.

While they were both unconscious, I called the police. When they showed up, they arrested me. It seems the one fucking mom was the chief of detectives and the one getting a blowjob was a city council member. I could have gotten 24 months in juvenile detention. They got off with their injuries. Dad found that they had forgotten to retrieve the video camera they were using to tape the scene.

When I was brought before the juvenile court judge, the tape was shown and bailiffs cheered when the detective hit the wall at the foot of the bed. The judge was not happy and called the detective to the stand. The detective tried to blame me because my mother had invited the lovers in. The judge asked him if I could have known that. The detective said he didn’t think so. The judge tossed the case out, with prejudice. I could not be tried again in any court.

Dad divorced mom, the detective was fired, and the council member resigned. I had to live with mom, but I refused to speak to her and I never did. For more than 3 months, I did the things she told me to do, and I went to school, but I did not talk to her or even write answers to any questions she asked. If she went on dates, I called dad, and he came and bitched her out for leaving me home alone. It got so bad she went to court and relinquished custody to dad.

Seeing how much hurt my dad had suffered from her cheating, I never dated in school, and I didn’t date even afterward, I have never dated. After high school, I went into the navy, and when shore leave was offered, I stayed on the ship. When my hitch was over, I went to college and got my degree in maintenance management.

While I was in college dad died, and I think a lot of the cause was a broken heart. He did leave me with a large insurance policy that paid for my college and retired my student loans.

After I graduated, I worked for the Navy at Great Lakes Naval Training Center, and worked on rewriting the maintenance procedures and manuals for the carrier launch platforms. One weekend I was out in downtown Chicago when the taxi I was riding in was in a serious accident. I was hurt badly, and spent almost the entire last year of my contract in the hospital or in rehab. Because of the injuries and rehab, my contract wasn’t renewed so I returned home.

With the money I received from the settlement of the accident lawsuits, and my degree, and some ideas I had for automating some maintenance procedures, I found some investors and partners, and started a business, We were almost immediately successful, and were shortly after that we were bought out by a national conglomerate. I was offered a job, but turned it down based on their business plans and procedures. Their business plan was to bring all of the young people along from the bottom, so they wanted me to work on the line. I declined, took their money and ran. I took my copyrighted manuals with me. The division folded in eighteen months.

I now had a large amount of ‘go to hell’ money’ that I put in a trust fund and invested in mutual funds and real estate. For a job, I applied to the RSV Corp. for a maintenance position. I had listed my work experience truthfully as a maintenance person, but did not list my actual duties. They hired me as an apprentice maintenance mechanic. That lasted about four months until it was time for my review. My maintenance manager saw that I had a degree, and promoted me to maintenance journeyman. Two years later, I was promoted to maintenance mechanic master. They then offered me a team lead position. I declined. Then they offered me the shift supervisor position. I declined. After the third offer of a promotion, I told them no again and warned that another offer to me and I was gone.

I had been at the plant for four years. I had not asked any of the women for a date. It did not stop the games. I had also managed to piss off all of the extroverts by providing silence or one-word answers to all of their probes into my private life.

Sara surprised me when the next Monday at lunch she asked to sit with me again. I just nodded, and this time I did not get up and pull out a chair for her.

“I am sorry I got mad last week. I knew I had imposed, and I wanted a chance to try again.” She had a slightly expectant expression.

“Yes, you did impose.” That was all I said.

“So, did you do anything interesting this weekend?” she asked.

“No.”

“Do you ever do anything that others would consider as interesting?”

“No.”

“You do know you are not making this easy, don’t you.”

“Yes.”

“Why.”

“No, reason.”

“Ok, is there anything that I can do that will get you to talk to me?”

“Yes, and I apologize for being a pain in the ass. I know there has to be a reason for you to want to talk to me so let me ask you a question. What is the reason you want to sit and talk with me?” I continued; “Sara, I told you last week I don’t date, and I don’t want to date either. I am not mad, just not interested. So, tell me why the interest?”

“Well, I find you intriguing, and I would like to get to know you better. I know that I am being forward, but I am being truthful.” When she finished she looked at me expectantly.

“Ok, you know my sexual orientation and my dating outlook. What else do you want to know?”

“I want the story behind the ‘I don’t date’ comment” she said.

“None of your business, I just don’t date.”

“Ok, I can see you don’t want to talk about it” she said and got up and left.

The next Monday she was back. This time she brought Judy Masters, a clerk in the documents office with her. I got up and moved to another table.

The following Monday she came back alone and sat down without asking me. “You are a grade A asshole, you know that.” She started.

I laughed; “And you are so dense that after three snubs you don’t understand that I do not desire to talk to you.” I kicked back at her.

Then I saw the start of some tears. “I don’t mean to make you cry, but I just want to be left alone. Don’t you understand?”

“Yes, I understand that part just not why you feel that way. I really want to get to know you better, and you seem so sad some times. If you don’t want me as a friend at least, I won’t come back again.”

“As a friend, I can live with that. Just remember, I don’t date. The reason I don’t date is a story you will not hear unless I decide in the future sometime to tell you. Can you accept that?”

“I guess I have to. Can you tell me some of your interests.” She asked then continued; “I really want to know you.”

“Ok, I volunteer at the local Veterans Outreach Center, I was in the navy, and have seen how some of the combat vets have not adapted well to coming home. They need my help and help from others. Other than that, I occasionally go to plays at the playhouse downtown. I like classical music, jazz, old rock, Americana Country Music, Sinatra, Mathis, Torme, Bennett, Williams, Andy and Roger, and almost all contemporary music as what in the 50’s was called pop music, and even some Disco. I haven’t been to a movie since ‘Gorillas in the Mist’, and even then it was at a discounted showing.”

“Wow, when you start talking you don’t stop.” As she laughed.

She was at lunch with me almost every day after that. Some days we didn’t even talk. She confused me often, because she seemed to want to be with me, and I never made any moves to be with her. So I finally asked her.

“Why do you have an interest in me? I have tried to discourage you. I admit, I like talking with you at lunch, but I don’t understand how a beautiful woman like you puts up with my indifference,”

“You are a good looking man, and the few times I have seen you smile you are beyond good looking. You are also someone who has shown a wonderful on the job team building ability. That tells me you are a man that can be responsible. Your telling me about the Vets that you work with shows you have compassion and your admission about being a music snob shows intelligence. The only thing that I dislike is you try to hurt anyone that tries to get close to you.”

“Ok, I guess you have your reasons, but remember, I don’t date. I do enjoy having you here to talk with. I guess that you deserve to know one thing. I push people away because I was hurt badly by a member of my own family when I was a teen. That person not only hurt me, but destroyed another member of my family. I don’t want that kind of hurt to happen to me again.”

She said; “You surely can’t blame the rest of the world for the hurt someone caused. Not everyone is out to hurt you.”

“You cannot prove it by me, and I don’t intend to try and disprove it. I don’t want anyone, and I don’t date.”

She asked; “OK, do you have dinner with you veteran friends?”

“Yes I do occasionally, but before you expand on that, they do not pry into my private life, and they don’t judge me.”

“I’m sorry, that came out wrong. Would you please take me with you to the Veterans Center when you go to dinner next time?”

“Why would you want to do that?” I asked, and added; “I will take you, but I am warning you these people are not as sociable as I am. Be prepared to be snubbed at first.”

“I want to go, because I watched my dad have problems and get no help for his post combat problems. I will follow your lead, and perhaps I can relate to some of the female vets.” She was almost pleading.

My next scheduled trip to the center was two days away, but I got a call that night from one of the coordinators that one of the female vets was in trouble. She was going off on the other people at the center. I called Sara and told her what was going on and that I felt she could help on this problem. I picked her up and we went to the center. Ruth Golden, a transport driver injured by an IED in Afghanistan was backed into a corner holding a chair like a circus lion tamer. No one was getting near her.

Sara and I went over to the area, but not so close as to seem threatening. Ruth saw me and did not seem to recognize me. Then she saw Sara, and her look changed to one of surprise.

Sara was calm, reasonable, and non-threatening. She got Ruth to admit that she panicked when a man tried to get her into a car outside the center.

I knew Ruth’s back-story but it was not for public dissemination. She had been treated roughly by some male service people while in the hospital after being wounded, and had been discharged when she retaliated.

Sara saw the fear of most men in Ruth’s eyes, and told all of the men to leave. As I turned to go, Ruth called to me to stay.

I stayed, but did not approach closer as Sara continued to calm Ruth down.

I saw a chance to help, and calmly asked Ruth if I could leave for a minute. I promised to come back quickly and alone. I knew I did not need her permission, but I wanted to reassure her I wasn’t abandoning her.

I went out and talked to the center director. He said that there had been a strange man asking about Ruth, but that he had left when no one would talk to him. He told me he had gotten the license plate number and gave me the information.

I went back to where Sara and Ruth were and Sara was holding a shaking and crying Ruth and when I approached, Ruth grabbed me and locked me in a fierce hug.

“I knew you would come back Chuck.” She said; “I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”

I looked up at Sara, and she was nodding. I must have been doing something right. Then I had a brainstorm.

“Ruth, if Sara and I take you to my house, do you think you would feel safe and could let me help you?”

“I know you won’t hurt me Chuck, and I like your girlfriend, she cares too.”

I didn’t tell Ruth that Sara was not my girlfriend, and for some reason, it almost sounded nice to me.

I wanted to scream; But ... I ... Don’t ... Date.

We got Ruth in my car, and drove to my house (actually the house I inherited when my dad died). I put Ruth in a bedroom, and brought her a pair of my pajamas and pointed out the shower. Sara went with her to get her clothes to wash.

I sat in the kitchen with my phone and called a doctor that I had made friends with while working with the Navy. He said he would be right over. Then I called a veteran I knew that ran a private investigation service. I gave him the license number and told him I wanted the bastard’s info down to the smell of his farts.

Sara came out while Ruth was in the shower. She came over and sat in a chair next to me. She stared at me with a look of awe. Then she said; “What you did for her is amazing. For someone who shows the world that you hate everyone you have a great deal of compassion. Do you know why Ruth has a reaction to what happened like that”

“Yes I do, but unless Ruth tells me it is OK, I can’t tell you anymore then I all ready have. She was not well treated by the VA, and has been living on the street with only a few of us to help her. We occasionally convince her to stay in one of our places for a few days to give her a few meals. She has been in my house before. You saw the scars on her legs, didn’t you?”

When she nodded I continued. “The Army discharged her with a 100% disability and had her in various VA hospitals until it was decided that she and others with like problems should go to civilian facilities, and then the government didn’t pay for them. I don’t know who it was that upset her tonight, but I have people who are looking for him, and when we find him he won’t bother vets again.”

As I was finishing talking to Sara, a clean and mostly calm Ruth came out in my pajamas. They were four sizes too big, but they were clean and with some adjustments gave her modesty.

She must have heard some or all of what I told Sara because she said; “Sara, Chuck is the only person except some Army and VA people know my history. You have helped me so I want you to know too. Please don’t tell anyone what happened to me.”

She began; “After I was wounded, I was sent to the base hospital at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan. While I was there, four army medics decided they would use me for their pleasure. I killed two of them and severely injured one and he had to be castrated to survive. The Army decided to push the whole thing under the rug, and gave me a total disability medical discharge. I still have a lot of trouble with aggressive men, and am still haunted by the rapes. The man who was trying to make me get in the car was the only one I did not permanently injure or kill, he told me when he grabbed me he was going to get me back for his friends.”

Just then the doctor knocked. I opened the door, and Ruth cringed when she saw him.

“Ruth, I’m your friend, and I would never let anyone hurt you if I could help it. This is Dr. Jerry Bascomb, and he wants to check you out to make sure that you were not hurt again. If it will help, Sara or I will be with you. Will you go with him into the bedroom and let him check you out? For me please?”