Parallax

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

CONTENT WARNING: Student/teacher dynamic and large age difference. If these topics are not for you, please skip this story. For everyone else, enjoy!

Parallax is a re-imagining of one of my earlier stories,Shari Holds a Torch. I've chosen to leave the original story up for those who want to read it and for those who prefer the shorter version.

Indeed, loneliness dies tonight...

Solitude can be a blessing or a curse, depending on a person's point of view. If you asked Velma Blount, she might say that, for her, it's been a blessing. Over the years, she'd found ways to embrace solitude and use it to her advantage. She was, and continued to be, one of the most respected teachers at Talcott High School. Miss Velma Blount put her heart and soul into teaching. She'd spent the last 25 years teaching gym classes and coaching a variety of after school sports, making her a veteran in the front lines of education.

The years had made her an expert at wrangling untold numbers of rowdy teenagers. Prissy, high-maintenance girls were a challenge she took on with particular ease and enthusiasm. Miss Blount had ways of getting even the most headstrong student to comply. This often meant that the students sometimes didn't like her very much. Though she was seen as a brusque taskmaster (and sometimes tyrant), she was also known as firm but fair. Velma's friends and colleagues got along very well with her. A few would even go as far as saying they admired her. Solitude presented endless opportunities for self-improvement, and Miss Velma Blount was a real go-getter. She was never one to let an opportunity go to waste.

But loneliness was a different matter. Loneliness, with its passing resemblance to solitude, was far more intense. As time passed, loneliness reared its head more and more, edging its way into her busy life like a needy friend turned stage 5 clinger. Velma's father was a consummate type-A personality. From an early age, Wilmer Blount pushed the value of a strong work ethic on Velma and her kid sister, Esther. When boredom or loneliness creeped in, there was always a fix: Stay busy. But staying busy wasn't always easy.

Velma was born and raised in Thatcher Blake, the same mid-sized city of around 150,000 she continued to live and work in. Aside from being the younger sibling, Esther Blount was the pretty one; the feminine straight A student. A real mother's little helper who was sure to catch the eye of a nice young man someday and become his wife. Velma, on the other hand, was an average student. She was the epitome of a tomboy with her plain, somewhat masculine appearance. But she excelled in sports and physical fitness. Her extraordinarily slim frame and tall stature gave her an advantage over her classmates; boys, in particular. She was nimble as a ballerina on the tennis courts, could trounce the competition in basketball, and she could easily run a mile in 4-6 minutes, depending on how energetic she felt that day.

Before she became a teacher, Velma attended the same Talcott High as a student. Although her grades remained average, she handily won the prestigious Best Female Athlete award three years in a row. As a teen, her work ethic and dedication to physical fitness grew. She became president of the Varsity GAA and treasurer of the Individual Sports Club. In those days, the Girls' Athletic Association was the closest thing a teen like Velma had for competitive sports. In those days, girls were not allowed to wear jeans or "slacks," as Velma called them, to school. Girls were expected to become wives and mothers, not athletes. Times, back then, were very different.

For Velma, it was a world of saddle shoes and bobby socks. Sweater girls were in, and just about everyone was obsessed with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. Life seemed to revolve around football games, pep rallies, and student mixers. Teens gravitated to the closest five and dime or corner drug store for sodas and ice cream. If the gathering was a date, it usually ended in a parked car shrouded in darkness beneath the starry night sky.

As far as Velma was concerned, dating was a thorny subject rife with more than the usual pitfalls. Unless she was off to practice or competing in some after school or weekend game, Velma found herself stuck at home and dateless on a Friday or Saturday night. She was used to it though, often shrugging it off. Dating was something the popular kids did, like cheerleaders and jocks. They always had first choice. Cheerleaders gravitated towards the tall muscular guys; the ones with a military cut or fade, shiny with too much pomade. Of course, most of them were on the Varsity football team. Predictably the jocks looked for the girl with the tightest sweater with the largest breasts--double points if she was a blond or redhead.

So, what was an awkward teenage tomboy like Velma to do?Stay busy. And so she did, obsessively honing her energy on running and sports through the GAA and ISC. The Girls' Athletic Association was one of the most popular clubs back then. Pins and letters were routinely awarded to the best athletes. By senior year, Velma had one of the most decorated sweaters in the whole school. But even though plenty of girls (cheerleaders included) participated, membership in GAA carried a stigma.

Of all the girls in her graduating class, it seemed like Velma Blount carried the brunt of that stigma. She stood tall at an intimidating 6'2'. Luckily, her overtly slim frame was balanced and well-proportioned. And although she impressed almost everyone with her various feats of stunning athleticism, her physical appearance presented a jarring contrast and a constant barrier to fitting in with her classmates. Boys often treated Velma like an annoying kid sister or cousin while others outright shunned her, pretending, more often than not, like she wasn't there.

Velma Blount was no ordinary tomboy. She was, quite simply, unabashedly, and unapologetically, butch. Her long face, as slender as the rest of her, was alarmingly masculine. Her light sandy hair was always cropped short and blunt. Her equally blunt bangs revealed thick eyebrows that emphasized her angular features and eyes the color of clear ice. Her gaze, hoary and penetrating, alarmed some and caused others to look away. If she got a nickel for every time someone told her she had a face for radio, she could've retired from teaching 20 years ago.

But Velma never really cared what any of the boys thought anyway. She had no use for them. Her mind and eyes were focused on the girls. If there was one thing Velma had in common with the jocks, it was her appreciation of feminine beauty. After graduation, Velma attended Illinois State and the University of North Carolina where she earned a Bachelors and Master of Science respectively. In college, she saw other young women who shared similar traits and, she suspected, similar predilections.

College and grad school gave her a sense of finally fitting in, but it only went so far. Here, Velma Blount thrived. Her grades improved significantly, and it wasn't long before her academic skills matched her superior athleticism. But the troublesome loneliness persisted. While her classmates led what seemed to be colorful social lives, Velma's involvement stagnated. Although she'd made several friends, none of them ever went beyond casual.

Perhaps her standards were too high, but Velma didn't think so. She wasn't attracted to other butch women. She preferred femmes. A petite young lady with a slim build, long lovely hair, and beautiful features never failed to grab Velma's attention. And it wasn't a simple preference. She coveted these attributes to her occasional detriment, and ended up scaring away a few romantic prospects.

Stay busy. Velma was never shy about her dominant and aggressive personality, but she never pushed. She'd seen more than her fair share of fellow butches coming on too strong. The occurrences were so common, they were almost formulaic. They'd spot some young knockout in a pretty dress and heels; some girl way out of their league. Casual conversation might lead to a date for coffee someplace, provided the girl genuinely accepted the offer. More often than not, she'd excuse herself to the nearest bathroom and disappear. She might even get her boyfriend or husband (if she was married) to sort it out. Any time that happened, the butch was introduced to the business end of some threatening words at best, or the guy's fist at worst.

Stay busy. Words to live by. Since her first year as a member of Talcott High's esteemed faculty, Velma devoted every second of her life to teaching and coaching. Her desire for a beautiful little femme remained strong as ever, but putting her career and self-esteem in jeopardy just wasn't worth it. She dated several women over the years, but the relationships were often short lived and unfulfilling. The persistent desire to balance her solitude and loneliness even led to a few nasty breakups.

She could hardly forget one incident in particular that left her feeling bitter and humiliated for days. It was after the end of one school day when she stopped by a little bookstore downtown after picking up a few things she needed from the nearby Woolworth's. After browsing the stacks for a few minutes, she struck up a conversation with the clerk behind the counter.What was her name? Oh, yeah, Hayley--Hayley Rundle. She wasn't exactly Velma's type. Still, the girl was young, fresh-faced, and very pretty. She laughed a lot and seemed to like the gym teacher's company. She even asked when she'd be back to visit.

Velma stopped by the bookstore a few more times after that. Coach Ike Linley, PE department head and head Varsity football coach, placed an order for the new Varsity Strategies manual written by former New York Giants Defensive Tackle, Rosey Grier. Seeing another opportunity to chat up the lovely Miss Rundle, Velma volunteered to pick it up on her way home. The towering gym teacher went right to the counter and was greeted by Hayley's radiant smile. She looked like she was, what...about 30, maybe 32 years old? Velma never bothered to ask. In fact, she never even asked if Hayley grew up in Thatcher Blake. It never crossed her mind at the time. But after several minutes of lively conversation, Velma did ask her out. And to her pleasant surprise, Hayley said: "Yes, why not!"

"A small group of friends I get together with are having a Christmas party two weeks from today. We usually meet at a church close by for Bible study and fellowship. Most of them are teachers--"

"Like you?" Hayley asked.

"Well, they're not all gym teachers. Some teach English and math and science. One or two teach elementary, but I can't remember which grade exactly." Velma said thoughtfully. Then she realized what Hayley meant. "Ah--there won't be any...men at this party, or in our Bible study groups...if that's what you're asking." The Amazon woman leaned across the counter and her voice dropped to nearly a whisper when she saw a customer lingering at the magazine rack a few feet away.

A conspiratorial smile spread across Hayley's face. The lovely girl behind the counter seemed amused and not the least surprised or put off. "I'm already scheduled to closing shift that day." She said. "So, if you don't mind writing down the address, I'll meet you there."

It snowed the day of the party, covering everything in glimmering white peaks and drifts reminiscent of the royal icing on gingerbread. The party was at the home of Miss Jude Horst, a fellow PE teacher at Kent Junior High. Hayley arrived several minutes after Velma, parking her car near the end of the block. The beautiful Queen Anne House, strung with colorful lights, was packed with guests. The driveway was full, and Velma could hear the melody of Frank Sinatra's Christmas Waltz in the chilly night air.

It's that time of year

When the world falls in love

Every song you hear seems to say

Merry Christmas

The night started out full of fun and surprises. Hayley seemed to really enjoy herself, laughing and dancing the night away in Velma's arms. Later, the two of them were sitting on the davenport watching while a few couples swayed with the music. Velma couldn't remember what they'd even talked about that night. None of that mattered anyway.

For the first time in years, Velma Blount felt a bloom of fresh heat in her hollow cheeks. She was sure it wasn't the punch or the beer. The nagging taunts of loneliness faded; diffused by the laughter of the other party guests and Hayley's radiant smile. The towering butch said nothing. She leaned in close, and her lips brushed against Hayley's tentatively, before pulling back a little. She was testing the waters. She wanted to be sure.

A fragrance of something like cedar and vetiver lingered on Hayley's skin and hair. It paired well with the decorations, laughter, and twinkling lights. Velma breathed deeply as she searched for any sign of alarm or displeasure, but there were none. Hayley's eyes met hers, and for a moment, they were locked in each other's gaze. The warmth, and that lovely scent consumed her.Loneliness dies tonight, Velma thought. She leaned in and their lips met to share a soft and lingering kiss.

Silence reigned between them though the music and dancing and laughter surrounded them. Velma pulled away, but she could see Hayley's mouth, waiting as if to beg for another kiss. Her eyes, half-lidded, drew Velma in. The girl's lips parted and the butch slipped her tongue between them.

No resistance. Not even a little!

Jude Horst had come across the room now. She had a sprig of mistletoe and she drew everyone's attention. "Look at the lovebirds on the davenport, how sweet!" She laughed, dangling the thing mere inches above their heads while some of the other ladies looked on. Velma thought for sure that would've scared Hayley off if nothing else did.

But Hayley stayed put. Velma, embarrassed at being put unexpectedly on the spot, leaned in to whisper an apology. Hayley responded with an inebriated giggle. "Go on, give 'er another kiss!" Someone shouted from across the room. Without another word, their mouths pressed together, already soft and open. Their tongues brushed, dueling furiously. Velma's hands began to wander, tracing along the curves of Hayley's diminutive frame.

The following memories came in flashes. Jude whispered something to Velma about one of the upstairs guest bedrooms. She'd been drinking most of the evening and Hayley seemed willing at the time. The evening, filled with Christmas cheer, turned disastrous. When she brought her date upstairs and made love to her, the expression on Hayley's face changed and she was visibly horrified when she realized Velma expected her to reciprocate.

And then she heard about the man. "Oh, God, I shouldn't have done this..." Hayley stammered. "I've been seeing Dale--Dr. Wedel, the dental office next door. He--he seems serious and we've been going together for two years..." She was rambling. Her hands were visibly shaking as she scrambled to get her clothes back on.

Before Velma could say anything, Hayley muttered a weak apology and bolted through the bedroom door. She left behind an earring and her panties in her haste to get away. Velma never saw her again after that. She spent the rest of that night drinking, seething, and wondering where it all went wrong. If Hayley had a boyfriend, why didn't she say something before? The next day, Jude Horst sat with her in the kitchen. The two of them nursed cups of strong black coffee as they talked.

"She's a pretty young woman, that's for sure." Jude said. "Not surprised she has a man--a dentist too! Well, I think she was just pulling your string, Vel; trying to get someone to chase her."

"A dentist, big deal!" Velma muttered. "What's he gonna give her that I can't--no, don't start, Jude. I already know!"

Velma Blount was no stranger to teasing. From the time she'd started teaching at Talcott High she was already used to being led on. She bristled a little when she recalled a time, many years ago, when a young student teacher taunted her.What was her name, Velma wondered. She sipped at her still too hot coffee.Kristin Gustitus. She was an athletic girl, and fairly good looking, though she wasn't exactly the type to turn heads. Velma was around 30 back then. She recalled something about the way Kristin would look over her shoulder at her. Her smile was wicked, sometimes downright vulpine.

That same vulpine grin taunted Velma one day after school when she told Kristin she'd recommended the girl for one of the open positions at Walker High. Kristin threw her arms around Velma's neck and kissed her cheek.I should've known better, Velma thought, disgusted with herself. She asked the girl if she felt like grabbing something to eat at the Woolworth's or one of the coffee shops downtown. Kristin said "Sure!" But the following Monday (Kristin's last week at Talcott), she overheard the girl laughing about "That creepy Miss Blount" to a few of Velma's 3rd hour juniors and seniors. "I'd be careful if I was in the locker room." Kristin went on. "If she tried touching me like she did Sylvia Lester in class, I'd get my boyfriend to show her just how he handles ugly dykes like her!"

"Well, I'm sure the right young lady will come along any day now." Jude said, breaking Velma's train of thought. "You want some more coffee?"

"No, thanks, Jude." Velma said. She sighed. "I don't know why she didn't just tell me she had a fiancée. I wouldn't have bothered..."

"Try not to beat yourself up about that." Jude said. "It's almost Christmas. Think lovely thoughts. Before you know it, you'll be back at school, back at the grind."

Velma stared through the parted kitchen window curtains. Snow fell the night before, coating everything in a fresh dusting of fine white powder. As if by magic, a lovely image appeared, conjured by the butch woman's imagination. The white and frigid late morning became empty of houses and parked cars. The voices of Jude and the remaining party guests faded and disappeared in the snappy air outside.

Desire...

There's no feeling as delightful as desire. To be young and beautiful is exhilarating, and to be the object of another person's longing, even more so. It isn't just exhilarating; it's empowering. It wasn't until her senior year that Shari Keefer became fully aware of this. The power she held was tremendous though she didn't realize it right away. If she ever lost the ability to communicate through speech, her cunning grace and beauty would speak volumes.

If it were possible to linger, invisible, between two high school senior girls at the lunch table in the cafeteria, in the bathroom between passing periods, or in the locker room, the conversation overheard would time and again center somewhere on desire--either wanting someone--or being wanted. Of course the conversation might seem to be about something entirely different; the dreamy student teacher in 2nd hour math, Mr. Wanfalt, a new lipstick shade, or a tight new pair of jeans. If you stripped away the metaphor, you'd find nestling at the heart of the discourse, desire.

Desire, left unfettered, recognizes no boundaries; at a football game or an after-school dance, the feeling lingers. It lingers and grows and spreads, depressing some while inspiring others. Still, in high school, there are boundaries. Some, though never meant to be tested, occasionally are. No one knew this more than Shari Keefer. Unlike her friends and fellow classmates, Shari's inclinations were, shall we say,different.

Until her senior year at Talcott High School, Shari Keefer hated gym class. Her friend, Irene Olafson, thought it was weird. "God, gym is so easy!" Irene laughed. "All we do is play games and run around sometimes. It's an easy A!" Shari never really gave it much thought. "I'm just not good at sports I guess." She said. "Besides, I think Miss Blount hates me."