An Avenging Nudist

'Didn't you forget something?'

She looks at him and says, 'No.'

'I feel like you did, but I don't mind. Be my guest.'

'I am not getting dressed. I was made a fool and will play the role I was given.'

'Okay. Suit yourself. I won't ask why. At least I have told you. And I don't mind looking at you.'

She doesn't reply but simply signs off by saying, 'Bye.'

She starts work and works her morning shift as per usual. When lunch comes around, she finds that she is out of bread, cheese and salad. What to do but to pop out towards the corner shop, armed with a shopping bag? Naked, of course. How else? The shop is located on the edge of town, about 5 minutes' walk away. She passes about a dozen houses before she gets there. Most people are inside eating lunch, it would appear, so she meets no one until she gets to the shop. She enters, takes a shopping basket and picks her way to the depths of the shop, after saying hello to the shop lady, Mrs. H, on the way. Nothing or nobody has prepared her for K's nudity. She is a kind, but traditional soul, therefore not used to seeing naked women. For all we know, this may be the first naked woman she has ever seen - she doesn't look at herself that well.

'Miss K, what are you doing? Go home and get dressed... I beg you...'

'I can't and I won't. I can't, because I have got no clothes left. I have been made a fool, so I will play the fool. That is why I won't, even if I could.'

'What are you talking about? It is a scandal!'

'You are right, it is a scandal. M has left me for another girl, that is the scandal.'

'Mr. M? Has he gone? Good riddance. I never liked him. He was a vulgar long-haired young man. Anyway, if you must, be quick, collect what you need and go home.'

The two other women-customers present have surfaced from behind the shelves. They are a decade younger than the shop lady, so will have seen a bit more of the world. They are shock-amused, rather than shock-horrified. They watch K as she slowly gathers what she needs and returns to the counter, where Mrs. H. operates the cash register whilst trying not to look at K.

'Good thing our husbands are not here, Miss K, to eat you up with their eyes. Good thing for us too, as you would be unfair competition. So, your boyfriend has left you and you go naked because of that? We don't see how you punish him by going starkers, tits and ass out in the open, but hey, what do we know?'

'Ladies, I am not punishing him. I am punishing myself. Why did I ever trust him? I am a fool.'

'Don't trust a man, you are quite right. Hope you stop punishing yourself soon. But, if you stay off our husbands, by all means stay naked. Show off, while you can.'

'Okay, thanks, but I am not showing off. I am exposing myself, I guess. Exposing myself as a fool.'

'As you please. We women stand together. Good luck to you. Stay safe.'

K leaves the shop safe and intact, even if Mrs. H doesn't like it. It is just so unusual for her.

The remainder of the day is uneventful. K stays naked, has lunch, works her afternoon shift, has dinner, watches TV and goes to bed. J calls at some point to see if K is alright. She is, thank you, thanks for asking, goodnight.

Meanwhile, her image has been recorded in a handful of memories. Dreams, sweet or dark, may ensue. So, she has changed the world. Like the proverbial butterfly...

Wednesday

Morning comes to another beautiful day. K wakes up. We know her routine.

As she approaches his farmhouse, she sees Farmer N waiting for her on the footpath. He is a lonely soul; she knows that much. Dangerous? No, she doesn't think so. In any case, she knows she can outrun him.

'Hey,' he says. 'You are beautiful. Sorry. Good to see you.'

'I am a fool, but thanks. It is me who shows up naked, so by all means look. A naked fool. But don't touch.'

'I'll stay clear. Do you want coffee?'

'Well... I've got to work soon. Let me think... I guess I can take a shortcut to get back quicker.'

'Do you go to work naked too?'

'Yes, I do. I work from home though.'

'Then, please come in. You know what? I will drive you home in, what, fifteen minutes? Can you spare fifteen minutes?'

She can.

They have coffee and have their maiden conversation. As she expected, farmer N was born in the farmhouse and has never left there. He is disarmingly straight and honest when he explains that he has never seen a naked woman. That is, in the flesh. He has seen naked women in mags and flics, of course, but never in person. He is a virgin, K surmises. But he behaves. They do talk a bit, but are mostly silent. Silent, but he looks to his heart's content. At first, he steals his glances, but as the fifteen minutes pass he loses his inhibitions.

When her coffee is done, she stands up and offers, 'You can look at me all you like. Be my guest.' He silently accepts. She raises her hands to behind her head and slowly rotates full circle, and again. Mind you: she doesn't feel sexy doing this. She wouldn't. Since M left, her body is a thing that is something she doesn't own anymore. She simply shows herself, because Farmer N wants to see her and she owes it to him, or anyone for that matter, because she imposes her nudity upon him, or anyone.

When the coffee is done, he drives her home, doesn't pat her on the thigh when she thanks him before she steps out, although he thought about it.

She goes to work. It is a blessing that she can forget her troubles and function normally. No caller would know she is naked or has lost her boyfriend. She eats her lunch outside in the sun. Completely without inhibitions. She doesn't cross her legs. She is unaware that she is lovely. How can anyone be lovely and not be aware? Perhaps this makes her all the lovelier...

Farmer N's house can be seen on the horizon. He looks in her direction whenever his duties allow him. She could be seen from her road, but her house is the last along it and it is only an occasional tractor that passes, or a forestry truck. None during her break.

The afternoon shift is uneventful. After dinner, she settles on the sofa and watches TV. She receives two phone calls. The first is M. The second she hears his voice she disconnects and blocks his number. No way in hell will she take him back or accept his apologies. The second is J, who reminds her of the monthly dance at the Village Hall, this Friday night. Everyone comes to these dances, that is: everyone with a social bone in his or her body. Totalling some sixty folk. K has always gone, though she is not very social. On the other hand, and more to the point, she is not antisocial.

J says, 'Do get dressed, K. Not everyone will be kind towards you if you don't.'

'I won't. Let them kick me out, if they can't handle it.'

'They may call the police.'

'Let them. I won't make a fuss. It'll be warm inside the jailhouse, at least, not like in historic times.'

'They will force you to get dressed.'

'I repeat: let them. They won't supervise me 100%.'

J leaves it at that. She can't make K do it. Let the shit hit the fan, if it absolutely must.

Thursday

Thursday is like Wednesday. Minus the phone calls in the evening. Again, she accepts the invitation of Farmer N to have coffee, but she forewarns him that she will not always. She needs the exercise, you know. Farmer N looks at her like he did yesterday. Except that the phase during which he dares not look at her is noticeably shorter. She doesn't mind. She owes it to him and she is a fool.

Friday

Friday, the day of the monthly dance is a bit different. She doesn't take coffee with Farmer N, but says, 'See you tonight.' Farmer N is a regular attendee at the dances. (Attending the monthly dance at the Village Hall and its weekly Poker game night nearly sums up his social life. He is a lousy dancer, but such is the village ethos that he doesn't always get rebuked. He also has a sister, who visits him on alternating Sunday afternoons.) So, he says, 'Yes, see you tonight.' He just about managed not to ask, 'Are you going to be naked still?' As if there is any doubt. He hopes to dance with her. He never has. M was always there and Farmer N is too shy.

During lunchtime, her friend I calls and repeats the question J asked the evening before. 'Do get dressed.' K just sighs and replies, 'See you tonight.'

After dinner that evening K showers again and takes care to trim and shave the body hair that needs to be shaved or look neat. She doesn't apply any make-up. She hasn't worn make-up since the last day she saw M. No need. She needs to look neat, not pretty. No need to attract the young men.

By 8:15 p.m. she dons her dancing shoes, as opposed to her trusty Converses, and sets off. What is on her mind? It doesn't seem she is preoccupied with her nudity. Is she nervous? If she is, she doesn't show it. She is hard to read anyway, it has to be said. Would she be nervous because she used to dance with M nine out of the ten dances, he, who is now absent, the exceptions being the girls J or I or their boyfriends? Is she afraid that she will be resigned to wallflower status after M's rejection of her? Not for one moment does it occur to her that she might be spurned because of her nudity. Or will she in fact turn out to be popular? Village dynamics can be pretty peculiar.

A fact is that her arrival makes all eyes turn in her direction and most dancing couples freeze. The younger attendees show variations of bulging eyes, open mouths and broad smiles. Note that they are the least likely to have heard the gossip, the epicentre of which will have been the corner shop. K hasn't pre-empted any of that. If she had, it wouldn't have made any difference to her. No one stops her on her way to the bar, where J and I are waiting for her. They look concerned, but have a glass of red ready for her. Slowly, the dancers get back in gear, but depending on their position in the swirling, twisting, turning and parading all eyes remain glued to her shape. It takes just a minute or two for one of the village punks to come and ask her to dance, in a sarcastic tone of voice. The number is a slow dance. She looks at him as if he is the fool, then says, 'Alright.' The punk can't believe her assent but doesn't back out. And off they go. They dance, his arm around the small of her bare back and the other holding her hand, her other hand on his shoulder. Whatever his intentions were, they make for a sweet dancing couple. Nothing lewd. He murmurs to her and she murmurs back. We can't hear what they say, but his eyes are smiling and hers are neutral. He sticks with her for a fast dance too, free-style and without contact. His gaze on average is directed at her undulating breasts, 'tits' in his language. A quick scan around the room shows that he is not the only one.

When K arrives back at the bar, J greets her with the words, 'Happy now? You were the centre of attention.'

K shrugs her shoulders and says, 'I don't want to be. I want people to see I am a fool, but don't get a kick out of them seeing me, if that makes sense.'

'It doesn't, but what can we say?'

They sit at the bar drinking their wines in silence for a while, until one of the first punk's pals taps K on the shoulder. Another slow dance, and may he have the pleasure? History repeats itself. They dance the slow dance, the face of the punk is happy like a devil's, they dance a quick one to boot, he and everyone else concentrate on her chest and then the couple parts. This time, however, someone taps her on the shoulder before she has reached the bar. Farmer N.

'Slow dance,' he shouts to the band. Never in recorded history has Farmer N been seen dancing a slow dance. But he does now, a bit crooked, but he does dance the slow dance - arm around the small of her back, his other hand holding hers and her other hand on his shoulder. When the quick dance comes, he sort of stands there, hardly moving and watching her - you know what he is looking at, but he also looks at her face and at her nether regions. She lets him. They are friends now and he doesn't harm her - he is a good soul. Everybody is now watching this unlikely couple.

In the middle of Farmer N's third quick dance, the local policeman, Officer O, or Mr. O if off-duty, strides up to them and states in loud voice, 'Now that's enough!' The policeman is normally a soft-spoken individual, but although not on duty he feels he has got to man up. 'Common decency! Disorderly conduct! Indecent exposure! I can't arrest you at the moment, but I warn you, as a man and villager, you can't do this!'

K stares at him, unmoved. 'I am a woman; this is my body. Everyone has one. I am not doing anything indecent. I don't do sex in public.'

'You are indecent! This is improper! We can't have this. You are corrupting the moral framework of our village.'

'No, I am not.'

'You are!'

'No.'

Mr. O approaches her and is about to grab her by the upper arm.

A voice cuts through - 'Stop! - and makes him stop in his tracks. It is Mrs. H whose voice it was and who steps forward.

'Let her go, O. You can't just touch her. Thàt would be improper. We think she is right. She is not being indecent. She is just a naked woman. No one is complaining. Or are you?'

She surveys the crowd around her. We see the women in the crowd nod. Okay, one or two make a through-away gesture, but don't step forward or speak up. The men by and large are frozen, casting frozen looks in the direction of our heroine K. Okay, the group of four, five village punks are not frozen at all. They smile like the happy devils they are and show pairs of thumbs up. K's friends J and I leave the bar and go and stand on either side of K. Farmer N follows suit and stands firmly behind K. The two women who first saw K nude in the corner shop join the little crowd. The village punks follow suit as well. And so forth. Apart from the three or four silent conscientious objectors, who don't really object after all, it is the whole village flock against Policeman-Off-Duty O.

There is tension: O against the world!

The world of K.

Time can be cut with a knife.

Except no one is willing to draw a knife.

Mr. O shrugs his shoulders and concedes. 'Okay, have it your way! I just thought I'd do the right thing. Personally, I don't mind. She is a nice girl.'

The village dance resumed and K was a permanent fixture on the dancefloor. She grew to appreciate the warmth of the village, as if she now suddenly had sixty friends or so. She got free drinks until she had to say stop. She was accompanied home by Farmer N, who stayed a gentleman throughout.

And so it came to pass that there is certain village in XXX which boasts a 24/7 nude inhabitant, citizen K. K takes her daily walks, drinks coffee with Farmer N, frequents the corner shop, receives her friends J and I, goes to the monthly dances and is content throughout. Women and men greet her when they see her and she greets them back. A little slice of heaven?

And M? It's M's loss. He is nowhere.