Second Comings - Sex Type Thing

She let go, leaned back, looked into his eyes. "Justin? Don't kid around with me about that. You know how I feel about it?"

"I'm not kidding, Laura. I want 'us' – that's all. Us, you and me, side by side..."

"The old crippled girl?"

"You know that doesn't matter to me."

"Yeah, well, it matters to me. It matters all the time, and sometimes it feels like you're wearing me around like some kind of badge of honor, showing people how 'big' you are. 'Look, there he goes, the professor with the crippled girlfriend..."

"Stop it, Laura! Stop!"

"Or what, Professor Lake?"

"Please stop. You know that's not..."

"Aren't you listening? Can't you hear me? This is how I feel." She held up her leg. "Look! This is what I am!"

"What you are?" he screamed. "That!" he said as he pointed at her leg, "Is that all you are? Dear God in Heaven, you really do know how to sell yourself short, don't you? Why? Why, when you are so much more! When you have so much more to give the world?" He leaned down and took her leg and kissed it, but then she pulled away from him. "Yes, that's a part of you, too, who you are, what made you who you are, but can't you see? I love you! Every bit of you, this too."

She got to the side of the bed, began putting on her prosthesis.

"You're going to run away?"

"Don't try to stop me, Justin. Don't get in my way."

"Can I take you somewhere?"

"What? Goddamn you to hell! Drive me? What...is THAT what you really wanted? A cripple? Someone who has no choice but to become dependent on you? A wife, like the mother you never had, the mother who drank her way out of your life? Dependent, like she became on your father? Only this time you thought you could control me? You son of a bitch!" She pulled on her pants and laced her shoes, then walked out.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands pinching the bridge of his nose, but he felt dry inside. Empty. He wasn't mad, he was confused. An empty kind of confused...

'Where did that come from?' he asked himself. 'What made her think that? Have I acted like that to her?' Questions ran through his mind, ran from the present to that past. To his mother. His lonely mother, alone with her whiskey and drugs, alone when she overdosed, alone when she died in a shitty hotel bed in the middle of nowhere. In the middle of alone. He didn't want that for Laura. He couldn't, could he? Why did she feel that way?

He was sitting in the living room looking out the window, looking at the leaves budding on every tree in sight, at the sun shining through the a million trees. Just a few patches of snow left, he saw, hiding in the shadows, huddled in cold corners – waiting for the warmth. Perpetual change. His letter from the Dean was on the table, and he looked at it again. His future assured, apparently. And now he was alone.

A knock on the door, he ran to open it.

It was Secord, he saw, and he turned away, walked back into the house.

"Mind if I come in?"

"No, come on in."

"I got thrown out. Needed somewhere to hang for a while. Hope you don't mind.

"Thrown out?"

"Laura came over."

"Ah. Sorry. I'm not firing on all cylinders right now."

"If you don't mind me asking, what the fuck happened?"

"Hmm? Oh, I asked Laura to marry me."

"Well hell, that sure clears everything up. Now, what really went down?"

"She told me I love her because she's a cripple, that I want her that way so she'll become dependent on me."

"Yowza. That's a lot of guilt for one trip. Where'd it come from?"

"My mother, I guess. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"About Michele. She was a guy once, right?"

"Yup."

"And you're cool with that? The whole sex type thing?"

"Cool? Not really, not in the way I think you're asking, anyway. We're still feeling our way through that minefield, but I didn't fall in love with her because of the sex. Really, I guess that came between us for a long time. I fell in love with her the second time around, when her existence forced me to confront my own humanity. The flaws in my humanity, I guess."

"But you love her, right. I mean, really love her, even though she was a guy?"

"She's a human being, Justin. A human being, that's all. It takes a while to get to a place where you can see what that really means."

"What do you mean?"

"There are good people out there, everywhere, yet they're not as easy to find as you think. But there are lots of bad people out there too. They're real easy to find, as it turns out. They're out there waiting for you, as a matter of fact. Waiting for you to stumble, make the long fall, then they're with you, Justin, and it's hard to shake 'em loose before they take you down with 'em. What I'm trying to say is this: when you run into a good one, well, they're worth holding on to. Love is precious. Real love, that is. The bogus shit bad people try to sell looks a little like love, maybe even feels a little like love, but it's shit any way you look at it. It's need and want. That kind of love is revenge, anger at the world that 'made' them go bad."

"You think Laura..."

"I don't know Laura, Justin. I can't answer that question, but she's done some pretty bad things."

"Who hasn't?"

"True," Secord said, nodding his head.

"I love her."

"And you're sure about her love? About her doubts, what she said?"

"I'm sure. Yes."

"So, the Dean offered you tenure?"

"Yup. I heard you got it too? Going to accept?"

"If that's what Michele and I want, then yes."

"Everything was so clear yesterday, last night."

"What was?"

"My love for her. My need. She's all I want now."

"All through the night, I-me-mine, I-me-mine, I-me-mine," Secord sang, badly, trying not to smile at his butchered rendition.

"What?"

"From where I sit, all I heard was I-me-mine. Not 'our love for each other' or 'our need' – just I-me-mine. Maybe that's where you need to look first, before you look anywhere else."

"I know she loves me. I know it."

"So, that's why she's talking with Michele right now? She knows she loves you?"

"Damn right. Came out of nowhere, knocked her down, but she loves me. I know she does."

"Maybe so. I hope you're right."

"You do? Why?"

"Oh, no reason, really. Maybe you'd be happy. Maybe she would be too. That would be a good thing, wouldn't it?"

"You put a lot of faith in goodness, don't you, Secord?"

"I do. Once you understand how powerful hate is, how much of the human history you and I teach has been driven by hate, you begin to appreciate, even respect how much goodness matters. The superficial world matters less and less, because it's easy for hate to live there."

"We teach hate?"

"No, not at all. We teach the consequences of hate. Like we talked about a few months ago, we have to peel back the layers, not let the consequences of hate overpower our humanity. We have to let our students see that, and I think it helps them if they can see we live that way."

"That almost sounds like a sermon. Not a historian talking, anyway."

"I'm a human being, Justin, not a historian. And I'm not a label, or a caricature of a label. That's what Michele taught me, what she continues to help me understand everyday. And I guess that's what Aristotle taught her. To live a good life. Honest to one's self."

"And bad people don't love? I don't buy that."

"I think bad people use others. Means to an end, that kind of thing. That may feel like love, to them anyway, but it's not. And you know it, too."

"I do?"

"Well, I assume you know a little about Jesus. His life. So tell me, if he came back to earth right now, today, and he looked around our world, what do you think he'd have to say about us?"

"I think he'd smile. I think he'd understand. I think he'd see things haven't changed one bit. And that we'd crucify him again."

"Okay. So, where do you fit in? What would he think of you, and the life you've lived?"

"So, you really think we should try to live by example, for our students?"

"They watch us, Justin. They learn about life when they watch us. Actions speak louder than words. Always have, even two thousand years ago. Remember that."

"Walk the walk, huh?"

"Yeah, but in a relationship it's the things you do for each other that convey love. Telling someone you love them is all well and good, but actions always speak louder than words."

"Like?"

"Think of it this way, uh...well, here they come."

"What?" Lake turned to see Michele and Laura coming up the walkway to the house, and then he looked back at Secord.

"There's a way through this, Justin. Just don't push. Listen. Listen to her heart, and listen with yours." Secord stood, held out his hand and Lake took it. "Maybe you can make sense of all this."

"I'm not sure I'll ever understand you, Jordan, but I'm glad I know you."

"Yeah? Well, don't let your meat loaf, Amigo. And let me know what happens."

"I will."

"If it gets too heavy, just yell. We'll go to the pub, toss back a few."

"Sounds good, Jordan."

They went to the door, then Secord left, walked away with Michele.

Laura came in, she looked unsettled, upset, unsure of her world, and she walked past Lake and went into their bedroom. When he went in she was already out of her clothes and getting into the shower.

"Mind if I come in?"

She didn't say anything. He went in and sat on the toilet, waiting, watching as she sat on the little stool he'd put in there for her. After a minute she rolled the door open, held out her hand. He took it. He felt her skin on his and couldn't help it, he cherished the feeling as he looked down, shaking his head.

"What are you thinking right now, Justin?"

"I was thinking how good your skin feels on mine."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"It must've felt like I was pushing you. Like you said, controlling you."

"I'm just scared, Justin."

"I missed that, darlin'. Guess I missed a lot of things."

She squeezed his hand. "Not the important thing."

"How was Michele?"

"She's a lifesaver."

"Secord is, I don't know. He's a paradox."

"Why's that"

"I don't know. He talks about goodness and Aristotle and living a 'good life', and that we lead our students by example. Stuff like that."

"What's paradoxical about that?"

"Well, he's living with a guy, for one thing."

"She's not a guy, Justin. I wish you could see that."

"Oh, I get it, I just don't buy it."

"You said you love me, right?"

"I do."

"I don't think you have any idea how many men have looked at my leg and just about puked. How many have walked out, leaving me sitting in the dust."

"They can't see past that. They can't see you."

"So what is it about Michele that makes it impossible to see the real person inside?"

"I don't know, Laura. Maybe because your leg was accidental, beyond you control; Michele's life is all about choice."

"Being true to her self? That's a choice she made, I'll grant you that, but are you saying that was the wrong choice? And anyway, even if you had some right to make that judgement, why would you hold that against her? And Jordan? Why would you hold his acceptance of her against him?"

"I'm not. Not really."

"Aren't you?"

"I don't think so. I like him, appreciate what he has to say..."

"But you can't see why he's with Michele, right?"

"I can, on one level. But I never could."

"Well, you don't have to, do you? You have me, your cute little cripple, right?"

"I love you."

"He loves Michele."

"I love you, not Michele. Do you, you know, just maybe, love me too?"

"I do, Justin. And yes, if you want to get married, let's do it."

"That doesn't sound right to me, Laura. 'If I want to.' What about you? Is this what you really want?"

"What I really want? I don't know how to answer that, Justin. Up until a few months ago I'd look in the mirror and was revolted with what I saw there, with what I am. Getting married wasn't in that mirror, wasn't in my reflection, Justin. Know what I mean?"

"Changes."

"Huh?"

"Something Secord said reminded me of of that. All the world is change. Perpetual motion, perpetual change. Change, and that leads to acceptance, or conflict."

"Maybe he knows what he's talking about. Maybe he knows what's in his heart."

"I think," Lake said, "he's a good friend. And I think his heart is in the right place."

"What about me, Justin? Is your heart in the right place – about me?"

"I need you, Laura. That's all I really understand. I want to understand you. This pain."

"Do you?"

"I do, but I don't want to crush the life out of you. I'd like you to want me as much as I do you, but I guess that might come in time, when you're ready."

She turned off the water and stood up, so he handed her a towel.

"Dry me, would you?"

He dried her perfect body, hated the pain the loss of her leg caused, but he couldn't change that. He loved her, he thought, on those terms, terms the here and now had given him. Was Secord's choice so different, he thought as he toweled her legs.

"Do you think you could carry me to bed?"

He picked her up and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him as he carried her. He lay her down softly, then knelt beside the bed, his head resting on her left leg.

"I don't know what led you to me," he heard her say, "but I do love you, Justin. I can't understand what all this means, not yet, but I feel so lucky." She ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry about what I said this morning. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter, Laura. There's nothing you can say we can't get over."

"Come up here...keep me warm, would you?"

And he saw that smile again, and wondered what was so funny.

+++++

She was grading papers, the stereo playing old Seattle grunge impossibly loud, and the music was fueling her, energizing her, and now she wanted to dance – but she focused on her papers, reading through an answer one time, checking off good points and bad, then re-reading for clarity. It seemed to take her about a half hour to finish off one paper for that first run-through, and the second time through she'd check sources and references, and only then would she assign a grade, so call it an hour per paper. She had seventy papers in her stack, about half through this first assessment when Justin came in, carrying his own stack of papers.

"Jumpin' Jehoshaphat! What the devil is that!" he called out, trying to make himself heard over the racket.

"What!?"

"What is that?" he said, turning down the volume. "Never heard that one before..."

"Stone Temple Pilots. Sex Type Thing. One of my favorites, when I was a kid."

"So, that's what happened to you!" he said, laughing now as he came into the room, laughing before he kissed her. "Well, this is it," he continued, holding out the file folder. "302's papers. This is where I learn if I made a difference. If I got through to them."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that, Professor," she said lightly. "My bet is most of them did just fine."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Because my money's on you."

It had been almost a month since his proposal, since her guarded acceptance. Laura had decided she wanted a simple civil ceremony, maybe here in the village, with just a handful of friends attending. No outrageous dress to buy, no pretentious invitations to mail out, no drama beyond the readily apparent. Just a simple ceremony. A simple 'I do' – then maybe a few beers at the pub before driving out to the Rockies for a vacation. Justin understood. He'd do it because that was what she wanted.

A Volvo wagon pulled into the drive. Sharon Hastings got out and walked up to the door. She knocked, an angry knock, insistent, almost menacing.

Justin went to the door, opened it. "Sharon, what's wrong?"

She came in, looked at Laura.

"Well, you did it. You finally did it, didn't you?"

"Sharon? What are you talking about?" Justin said.

"Ask her, Justin. Ask her what she did?"

"Laura? What's she talking about? Laura?"

Laura sat motionless, very still and very quiet now.

"I'll tell you what she did, Justin. She found some more jocks, told them all about Michele, told them all about 'trannies' and 'fags' and how they were ruining the college. Then she told them where Michele lives. They got her this morning, in Jordan's house, Justin! They broke in and beat her. The destroyed her, you fucking cunt! Are you happy? Are you fucking happy now!?"

"Sharon! Wait a minute! What makes you think Laura has anything to do with this?"

"Because the police have them. They've confessed, they've implicated Laura. But this is what she wanted from the beginning, Justin, what she wanted all along..."

"Laura? Tell me this isn't so. Laura?"

And Laura stood up, but then she walked slowly into their bedroom, and shut the door quietly behind her.

"Where is she?" Justin asked. "At the hospital?"

Sharon nodded.

"Is Jordan there?"

"I just dropped him, before I came here."

"Take me."

The ran out to the wagon and were gone.

"Jesus," he said, "how'd they catch 'em..."

"In the act, I think. Neighbor saw them break in, heard it going down. Justin, they were, uh, raping her."

"What?"

"They were beating her, raping her at the same time."

"And they implicated Laura?"

"Chief of police told me that was the first thing out of their mouths. She told them all about Michele, where to find her, what they needed to do to get her away from the college."

"Why'd they do it? I mean, why'd they do it for Laura?"

"Justin, they said she was fucking them. All of them. Up until a few days ago."

Lake looked down, he didn't know what to do, what to think anymore, but somehow he knew it was true, all of it. Sharon had tried to warn him, maybe even Secord had too. All that talk about 'goodness' and 'bad people' – maybe he knew then. Or maybe Michele knew, and she'd told him. He felt sick to his stomach, like not only had he betrayed Secord and Michele, somehow he'd enabled this, too. There had been signs, after all... And he'd ignored them all.

"Does Jordan know about the confessions? The stuff about Laura?"

"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You'd better think about what you're going to say. What you'll need to do."

"Yeah. You warned me, didn't you?"

"I tried, but I didn't have any idea things were this bad last summer. Not the first time she tried this."

"You mean, this wasn't the first time she tried to set her up? Like this?"

"She tried, last September. One of the boys went to his coach, they called her in, she denied it all. No proof. Everyone thought it was too outrageous so they dropped it. You know, to keep shit out of the papers..."

"She's a monster. If any of this is true, she's a monster."

"I'm sorry, Justin. I hope this doesn't come down on you too hard, but yeah, she's a sick girl."

They pulled into the parking lot beside the ER and ran in. Jordan was in the waiting room, pacing frantically, but he looked up when he saw Sharon and opened his arms when she came to him.

"Hey, Justin, thanks for coming," Secord said when he let go of Sharon.

"Have you heard anything?" Justin asked.

He shook his head. "They just took her up to the OR. Skull fracture, some ribs, maybe internal bleeding. They got her good."

"Jordan, I'm so sorry."

The president of the college arrived moments later, Dennis Hastings and the academic dean as well. Then the chief of police and a phalanx of officers came in, and they walked right up to Justin.

"Doctor Lake, is Laura Grier at your house?"

"She is." He fished his house keys out of his pocket and handed them over. "And you have my permission to enter. She was in the bedroom when we left, Mrs Hastings and myself."

"Okay, thanks." The chief handed the keys to one of the officers, and they left at a run."

"What's going on?" Secord asked.