Chapter 9

In Atlanta, Paul drove his Ferrari to the bus station. There he shipped his luggage to Gainesville. He drove east towards Augusta until he came to Highway 1 and then headed south.

That evening, in the Okefenokee Swamp south of Waycross, he turned his car onto a rail line that headed into the swamp. He followed the railroad bed until he came to a bridge. It was hard driving over the rail road bed in the low-slung Ferrari. After numerous tries, he finally got the car to jump the rail so that the front right wheel was off the bridge.

He got the jack from the trunk, and raised the car up. When he pushed it off the jack, about two and a half feet of the front end was off the bridge. One more time, and the car fell in, upside down. It was just deep enough to cover the tires. The jack and the tire iron followed. Paul was always fond of dramatic gestures.

Paul walked back to the road, and hitchhiked to Gainesville. The next morning Steve gave him a ride to the bus station to get his luggage.

"Where is your car?" Asked Steve.

"It's gone."

"Gone where?"

"Don't worry about it Steve, it's just gone."

"Where's Ava?" Steve was getting worried.

"She's still in Monaco."

"When is she coming back?"

"I don't know. We broke up. She's alright. She'll find someone to take care of her."

The same girl was at the stadium that evening. Worse, there was a couple on the field. Paul turned around and sat on the middle bar of the rail. He didn't want to see the couple. He had been seated for maybe 10 minutes when he heard someone behind him.

"You're not thinking of jumping, are you?" It was the girl.

"No. I have to say it is appealing but I couldn't do that to my mother. Why do you ask?"

"This is the first time you've sat this way."

Paul glanced to his left at her. "Oh. You're the girl who took my seat," he said without rancor.

"Hah! You're the guy who sometimes takes my seat."

"I'm Paul Sheppard."

"Alice Keefer."

"Have a seat Alice, be my guest."

"Thanks. Something's really bothering you tonight. You've never sat like this before. Most nights you're deep in thought, but tonight you look like you're in a fugue."

"I think I've been running away from myself all along. Tonight I just noticed that I'm completely empty."

"You're wrong."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

"You love your mother. You're still thinking of her."

Paul started to cry. Alice waited.

"Paul, I need to give you a test. Turn and look at me."

Paul turned towards Alice; her eyes dominated her face. They were dark, deep, and serene. He glanced at her chest. Damn it, he thought, why does my hindbrain have control of me? Then he noticed a large scar on the left side of her face. He looked again into her eyes. Well, if the first thing I do is to stare at her boobs, I'm sure I failed that test. What is it about boobs? Her small ones are nice. Hell, all of them are nice.

"Do you want to get a cup of coffee? There's a shop across the street."

Paul and Alice sat in a booth facing each other. "I thought I had failed your test."

"Why, because you looked at my boobs?"

"Yeah."

"Paul, most people never get past the scar."

"What?"

"Most of the time I get one of two responses. They notice the scar and look away or they notice the scar and act like it doesn't bother them."

"So because I'm a sex fiend I'm OK?"

"No, because you looked into my face and didn't notice my boobs or my scar longer than most people will look at me."

"You have pretty simple judgment criteria."

"It's been effective so far."

"Not really. You don't want to know me. I'm not a good person."

"What have you done that's so bad?"

How do I frame the answer so that she will understand? The last night with Ava had been the worst. He had tried to hurt and humiliate her but the whole relationship had been building up to that. It didn't matter that it had humiliated him more than her. It was the intent that mattered. "I don't know how to explain it to you."

"I go to the stadium to reflect on the day. To see what I did right and what I did wrong. Why do you go there?"

"I go there to see if I can stomach another day of the deal I made."

"With whom did you make a deal?"

"With myself and Ava."

"Your girl friend?"

"That would be the simplest thing to call her. Why are you so interested?"

"Lots of reasons. I'm a woman so I'm nosey. I'm a Sociology major and I've wondered what was bothering you."

"Alice, believe me, you don't want anything to do with me."

"I even fantasized about you. Don't worry, they are not those kinds of fantasies."

"I know. You like girls, not guys."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because you look at girls in here the way I do. Don't worry, it doesn't bother me. I won't say anything."

"I didn't know I was that obvious."

"You're not. I've had some experience with that kind of thing. What kind of fantasies?"

"What?"

"What kind of fantasies have you been making up about me?"

"Mostly they were rescue fantasies. Social workers have those kinds of fantasies."

"Is that what you want to be?"

"Yes."

"The last time a woman had a fantasy that involved me, it brought out my worst." Even worse than the first time around.

"It can't be this bad," she pointed to the scar on her face.

Paul reached across the table and felt the scar with the tips of his fingers. "The scar isn't evil Alice. That's the difference. Thank for the coffee, I'll see you around."

Ava was in the house when Paul got home the next day.

"Paul, I'm sorry for what happened. It was my fault."

"No Ava. It was both our faults. We aren't good for each other. We need to be away from each other."

"Paul, I love you."

"No you don't. You don't know how to love. I'm not sure I do either anymore. Neither of us will learn if we stay together."

"Why are you being such an asshole?"

"It appears that it is my natural state. Call it karma. Let me make it easy for you. Get out of my life and stay out. I promise to do the same." Paul went to his room and locked the door.

"Paul, it's safe to come out. She's gone."

"Thanks Arthur. Please don't let her in the house again."

"OK."

Paul had gotten a letter earlier that day. Ann was engaged. Good for her, I hope she finds happiness.

Paul threw himself into schoolwork and tried to stay away from people. He resisted Arthur and Steve's attempts to set him up with dates. For the most part he was in class, at home, in the lab, or in the library. Evenings were spent at the stadium. One night he arrived after Alice. He hesitated and then went to sit by her. Which side should I sit on, he thought. The closest.

"How are your fantasies Alice?"

"I've been thinking about you."

"Now you're just teasing me."

"No. I'm serious."

"OK. I'll bite. What were you thinking?"

"What do you want in life?"

"What?"

"What do you want from life? What do you need to make you happy? Do you need to be rich? Do you need to be famous? Do you need a wife? Do you need a young beautiful wife? Do you need children? Grandchildren?"

"I don't know."

"Do you need to cause pain? Do you need to dominate? Do you need to humiliate? Do you need to kill? Do you need to rape?"

"No!"

"Then are you evil?"

"What if I do evil things even when I don't want to?"

"Do voices tell you to?"

"No," Paul laughed, "I'm not schizophrenic."

"What do you do that's evil?"

"Maybe I'm overstating my behavior. It's not like I torture cats and other small animals, it's more that I treat people like shit."

"You're an asshole."

"Exactly!"

"Then you can change. Behavior modification is making great strides."

Paul couldn't help it and laughed. "Two and a half years ago I thought so, but now I don't know."

"What happened then?"

Paul told her.

"Now you are convinced I'm nuts." Paul said when he finished his story.

"It is quite a story Paul."

"You have a good bed side manner," replied Paul laughingly. "How can I convince you? Should I tell you a couple of things about the future?"

"OK."

"The Dodgers will beat the White Sox in the World Series. It will go six games with Chicago winning the first game 11 to 0. Baltimore will beat the Giants 31 to 16 for the NFL title."