Shari Hails the Hero

The towering butch woman felt a large hand on her shoulder. It was Ike Linley. The tall black man flashed her a sympathetic smile. "That was some real tough shit, Vel!" He teased. "What the hell was that? Your jock strap on too tight or somethin'?"

Velma sighed. "Ah, what did you want me to do? Figured I'd let CJ win this one."

Coach Linley shook his head and laughed. "You'll get 'em next time!"

A few minutes later, Miss Blount finished packing up her things while talking to a group of her Varsity girls. She helped herself to a cup of water from a cooler someone had set up courtside, and slung her gym bag over her shoulder. Miss Treadway and Miss Larsson were standing by the cooler talking to Miss Jane Dowd, a fellow PE teacher from Kent Junior High. Janie, as her friends and colleagues called her, has been Velma's assistant coach for the Varsity and J-V tennis teams since the dissolution of the old Individual Sports Club and GAA. She saw Janie during the first two sets sitting next to Shari in the bleachers. Maybe she could shed some light on the situation.

Velma shielded her eyes from the late afternoon sun and scanned the bleachers again. By now, the crowd had mostly thinned out, but Shari Keefer was nowhere to be seen. "Hey there, Janie, have any of you seen Shari?" She playfully nudged Miss Dowd with her racket.

"Thought I was supposed to be up against another coach today, but instead all I got was a sandbagger!" Miss Treadway quipped. "What happened out there?"

"Just doing my part for charity, Carol. Helping out the less fortunate...and less talented." That last remark provoked a ripple of laughter from the others. Velma always made a point to discourage any trash talking between her students in class and during sporting events, but she could hardly resist the opportunity to fire back a witty retort. Besides, it was all in good nature. A little trash talking now and then never hurt anybody.

But Velma noticed Janie Dowd wasn't laughing. Her mouth stretched in a tight, uneasy line and she looked down at her feet. Birgitta Larson patted the woman's shoulder. Her smile faded and her face clouded over. "Have you seen Shari, Janie?" Velma asked. "I saw her sitting in the bleachers..." Her voice trailed off. She glanced at Miss Treadway who just shrugged. Miss Larsson was silent. Something was wrong, she could feel it. "Where's Shari, Janie? Did she leave? Is she all right?"

Birgitta, patting Janie's shoulder once more, said: "I think you better tell her." She motioned Velma to follow her. "Here, let's have a seat." She suggested. "Tell me what, Janie?" The towering woman stood still for a moment, menacing. "She upset about something?" Velma deposited her racket and gym bag on the empty bench near the cooler and sat beside her assistant coach. "Janie, what's going on?"

"Shari's okay, Velma, but something happened on the way here from the carnival downtown...apparently." The plain, dark haired assistant coach paused, putting emphasis on that last word. Velma didn't like the sound of that. Not one little bit. She glanced down at her lap and looked back at her colleague. "I noticed Shari in the bleachers during the third set. She looked upset...like she was crying, or trying not to." Velma said. "Will someone please tell me what happened?"

"Someone down at the carnival offered Shari a ride back here...so she could make the match on time. We asked her who it was, but she wouldn't tell us anything. I was with Jude when we saw her leaving the person's car." Janie paused again and swallowed. "Poor girl wouldn't even look or answer when we asked about what happened."

"Diane caught up with her." Miss Larsson interjected. "She ran away from the car as soon as it slowed down enough to let her out. I think you'll have to ask Diane or Jude what they saw."

"Where is she now?" Velma demanded. "Who do you think offered her a ride?"

"She's safe, Velma." Miss Dowd said reassuringly. "She's with Jude and Diane by the auto shop. I started to go inside to use the office phone, to call the police, but Shari said she didn't want us to do that." Janie sighed. "She sounded frantic. I still think I should've made the call."

"Tom's giving me an oil change." Miss Treadway said, referring to Mr. Tom Derry, Auto Shop teacher. "I think he's doing a couple others too, so a group of teachers decided to get together and brought some...refreshments." Velma knew what she meant by that. The shop teachers and probably a few of the custodians got together and decided to have themselves a card game. Cards or dominoes. The same thing went on at Talcott High. The principal, Mr. Bowen, knew what went on, but as long as they kept things low key and away from the prying eyes of parents and the PTA members, he reasoned that it was part of the cost of running a tight ship. "I have to head back over that way and pick up my car. You might as well come along."

"But who gave Shari a ride?" Velma demanded again.

"God knows." Miss Dowd flatly replied. "She wouldn't even tell us what happened. She didn't even look at me when I asked her. Maybe with you there, it'll shed some light on this situation."

*****

Shari Keefer sat there, staring down at her feet and the floor. There was no doubt in Velma's mind that the beautiful young blond had been involved in some kind of nasty altercation. She looked lost; pale and disheveled. Her striking blue eyes were glazed and distant, betraying the fact she'd just witnessed something unspeakably horrible. Her shirt looked like it had been stretched to its limits, as if someone grabbed hold of it to prevent her from running away. The fabric was torn and the neckline was out of shape.

After a short conversation with Glenn Lightcap and his wife, the Kent Spirit Squad was about to begin their performance when Shari noticed the face in the crowd, watching her. At first, she didn't think much of it, but when she'd stopped to say hello to one of her former students, she recalled the familiar face. She saw the stranger for the first time last week. "I was saying goodbye to Curt Rippentrop." Shari said. "Another teacher offered me a ride back here."

Velma sat up straight, her body rigid, as she listened to Shari's account of what happened next. What should have been a very short, very uneventful trip back to North Haskell, turned into a waking nightmare. This generous stranger, this fellow teacher from a high school across town (Shari wouldn't say which one), parked the car in an alley a few streets away from the carnival. When Jude Horst and Diane Lusby questioned the girl, both women concluded that whoever was driving must've parked behind the Schandor Hotel. The Schandor, once a Grande Dame of machine age art deco elegance, faded over the decades though it never closed. "Isn't that place kind of a flophouse now?" Janie asked. Diane's eyebrows arched and her lips mashed together. "Well, not exactly a flophouse, but it sure isn't the Faust."

Poor Shari Keefer had been assaulted. An argument broke out when the stranger reasoned they needed to pick up their billfold at room 709. Velma noticed the others exchanging tense glances, saying nothing, while Shari continued. She refused to go inside the Schandor. She lunged for the door handle and tried to leave, but the stranger said something about the lock being broken on that side. Shari managed to catapult over the front bench seat of the assailant's car, trying her best to fend them off. Three times she shoved her attacker away before feeling the sting of a hand as it slapped her across the face. "I tried!" Shari muttered. Her voice trembled, almost whispering. "I tried to get away, but..."

Hot, heavy tears welled up in Shari's gorgeous blue eyes. Her body trembled visibly, and she heard Miss Treadway's voice telling her to take her time. She drew a hitching breath, trying not to break down while Velma held her hands in hers. She recounted the forced kissing and the hands, pawing senselessly at her breasts. Shari struggled, shutting her eyes tight. She felt the assailant's mouth against her neck, kissing, when a hand plunged down the front of her shorts. A visibly trembling hand went to her breast, as if to protect herself even though she knew that she was now safe. She was in the company of several very good friends.

Now Velma's cold blue eyes stared in disbelief when she saw the bruises on Shari's arms. Her beautiful young wife turned her head for a moment, revealing a large reddish purple welt. It looked like a hickey; a particularly nasty one too. The Amazon woman sucked in her breath, trying to center herself, trying to remain calm. But how could she? She could barely think straight. For one alarming moment, she felt like her head detached and was starting to float away. Small black and white specks, like dust motes, floated in her field of vision. She'd heard just about all she could take now. "Who offered you the ride, Shari?" The girl stared down at her lap, saying nothing. "Look at me!"

"I don't want to talk anymore." Shari muttered.

"Whoever it is, so help me God--"

"Don't do anything stupid, Velma." Miss Treadway cautioned.

"Me do anything stupid? I would never!"

*****

Velma and Shari stopped at the Hoppity Sam, a greasy little burger joint popular with the rowdy teen crowd. On this lazy Saturday evening, the place was pretty dead. Velma figured the Wellness Fair and carnival had a lot to do with that. The towering butch parked her sleek Plymouth Fury on the far side of the lot. A monstrous neon sign sneered noisily in the hot summer air over the building. A blue cartoon rabbit dressed as a bellhop with a jaunty cap was followed by a trio of comical neon arches that lit up one by one, indicating continuous movement. A word bubble emanated from the rabbit's mouth, telling customers toHop on Over! The famous "Hop, Skip, and Jump" deluxe cheeseburger meal, is available now for only $1.79!

"I'll just go inside and you can wait here if you want." Velma's voice cut the awkward silence, drowned out by the excessive whine and buzzing of the gaudy sign. "We can eat it in the car or take it home, whichever you like."

Shari sighed. "It doesn't matter to me." She turned away from Velma and stared out the window at nothing in particular. The girl's breaths came in slow, trembling gulps. She tried to keep Velma from seeing her face, but the reflection betrayed what the towering butch already knew. She was still crying.

"Who gave you the ride back to North Haskell?" Velma asked again. There was no response. You didn't do anything wrong, honey. But whoever did this to you, they need to--" Velma abruptly stopped. She could see that Shari was struggling to hold back another onslaught of tears. "Talk to me, honey!"

"Please stop." Came the whispered response. "I can't right now. I'm just...so embarrassed! Stupid!"

"You just didn't know--"

"I just want to hurry up and eat and get a shower. I don't want to think about it right now!"

Velma relented. "Okay, I'll just be a few minutes. Think you'll be okay waiting here? You can see me just fine from the parking lot." Shari replied with a silent nod.

From the twilight interior of Velma's Fury, Shari Keefer saw the cheap dining room and counter inside the restaurant. Velma had already placed her order and she sat in a nearby booth waiting. Other than the young couple standing at the counter staring up at the vacuum formed menu, trying to decide what to order, the place was empty. But then, seconds later, something caught the young blond's attention, sending her into a tailspin of dread.

An AMC Matador pulled into the lot and parked a few stalls away. When the single occupant exited and headed into the restaurant, Shari's eyes widened like two saucers and her fists clenched so hard, her neatly manicured nails cut into her palms. She felt no pain, though. Her gaze fixated on the car's driver, Miss Eddie Neal, who stood there at the counter looking up at the menu. Velma, seemingly unaware of the sinister presence of the rival butch gym teacher, still sat at the booth, patiently waiting. A girl (Shari guessed she was a teenager) dressed in the typical loud polyester fast food uniform, appeared from the back to greet Miss Neal and take her order. Shari swallowed hard, wishing they would just hurry up with their food.

A few agonizing minutes later, Velma returned to the car with a bag and two small sodas. She immediately saw the look on the blond beauty's face. "Something's wrong." She observed. "What's going on?"

"I saw you talking to that woman when you were at the counter, the one who just walked in there with the buzz cut..." Shari's voice trailed off. Her hands were shaking badly. The expression on her face was a mask of exhaustion and terror--simple and childlike. It was as if somehow the mere sight of that brush cut and masculine slim frame had shocked several years of life out of her, leaving a shuddering blond child in the passenger seat of Velma Blount's car.

Velma handed Shari the bag of food and her soda. The girl's face was frozen and her gaze fixated on the restaurant's interior. "Eddie Neal? She's a gym teacher at Harmony. I don't think you've met her before--" The strapping butch abruptly stopped, putting two and two together. "That's it. I'm calling the police right now!"

Velma started to open the car door when Shari grabbed the woman's arm to prevent her from leaving. "No, please!" She wailed. "She said she'd--" The girl let out a mournful sob. "Please don't call the police! I just want to go home!"

"Why don't you want me to call the police?" Velma demanded. She realized then she was using her teacher's voice; the curt, sharp tone she reserved for the girls in her class she considered discipline problems. "She threatened you, didn't she? I should've guessed!" Shari said nothing. Her eyes never strayed from Miss Neal's backside. It was as if she wanted to be absolutely sure the woman never left her sight.

The car started and Velma shifted into reverse before pulling out. "Eddie Neal, I should've known." Shari stared at the passing streetlights, saying nothing. "She's got a bit of a reputation, something about the department head, Miss Bennett, and one of the English teachers. But she's been there forever, over 20 years. I hear she's a pretty decent coach. Don't know about all that..." Velma sighed. She was rambling. "She's not going to get away with what she did to you. And if you don't want the police to take the trash out, I will!"

Velma and Shari sat at the small kitchen table, barely exchanging a word while they ate. When they were finished, Shari went into the bathroom and took a shower while the towering butch sat alone in the living room in front of the TV. She switched the thing on and stared absently at Bob Newhart trading barely audible witticisms in his office with Marcia Wallace. She glared at the screen, sighed, and got up to switch the channel. Carol Burnett was on channel 4 performing some ridiculous number with Tim Conway and Lyle Waggoner.

She tried to watch the show. She'd completely forgotten about the Wellness Fair and the tennis match, but she couldn't get the horrific details of what happened to Shari out of her mind. Shari Keefer, her former student; her beautiful young wife. Velma recalled the many times she saw men staring at Shari, sometimes ogling her, and Velma could do nothing to stop it lest she betray the secret of their relationship. But she realized now that she was unprepared for, and completely blindsided by, the fact that another woman would hurt Shari like this.

And not just any other woman. Miss Eddie Neal, another respected PE teacher and coach; a woman Velma Blount has known for many years. A fellow hard butch. Velma shuddered and a sudden wave of nausea filled the pit of her stomach. The nausea swelled and bubbled up, and her hands started shaking the way she saw Shari's hands shaking in the car at the Hoppity Sam. But the shaking and nausea wasn't from fear, and it certainly wasn't from the cheeseburger and greasy fries she'd just finished eating.

Velma Blount was overcome by a rapid cycle of extreme emotions pummeling her, leaving her stunned on the sofa in front of the TV: Anger, hatred, sadness, and helplessness replaced that momentary feeling of nausea. The nausea, had by now, passed. What she felt now, more than anything, was disgust. Shari was not a naïve girl, although she sometimes came across that way. She was no shrinking violet either. The beautiful young blond dated a few boys when she was still in high school. And since she started teaching, she'd been the object of a couple student crushes--both boys.

The friends and colleagues who knew of the relationship between Shari and Velma treated them both well and discreetly. It was hard enough to live a life like this, in secret, but Velma accepted and made peace with the fact that she was different. She knew all about the whispers and jokes about her masculine appearance. It wasn't always easy to shoulder the comments lobbed by parents, concerned their daughter joining the tennis team, or becoming a student leader for the freshman and sophomore classes might turn her into a "muscle moll." It was harder still, to grit her teeth and say nothing when she'd hear the usual jokes and warnings in the hall or the locker room. "Watch out for old Miss Blount! She likes the pretty ones!"

Velma struggled to maintain her composure when she heard the bathroom door open. Shari reappeared and sat beside her on the sofa. For a brief moment, the old dyke remembered that lonely July night when she dozed off in front of the TV and Shari knocked on her door. She remembered how her gorgeous ex-student sat there beside her, crying, because she was worried about starting college. She wondered at the time if the girl's crying was just a ruse, but she didn't care. Shari Keefer looked so sweet and innocent and...vulnerable. Eddie Neal took advantage of that, and like a thief, she stole some of that sweetness and innocence.

"Velma, I know I should've walked away when I was at the carnival. I hope I didn't make you mad about not calling the police, but...she said..." Shari sighed. "I'm just so...embarrassed! I was so stupid and I should've just walked!"

Velma reached over and brushed aside a few stray locks of Shari's hair from her face. "There is nothing shameful in what you did, honey. You trusted someone who seemed nice at the time. And they took advantage of that." Now her eyelids fluttered. A tear broke loose and streaked down her hollow cheek. "Eddie's worked in the district for almost as long as I have. I had no idea what utter trash--" She stopped abruptly and swallowed hard. Shari noticed the gleam of wetness on the rugged features of her wife's face. A single weighty tear dangled precariously from Velma's jaw for a few seconds before it finally broke loose. "I--I'm sorry that happened to you, dear. And I'm embarrassed that I wasn't there to protect you."

"I..." Shari started, and then paused, as if trying to figure out what she wanted to say next and how. "I didn't want to tell anyone what happened when they saw me. I guess I was afraid that no one would believe anything I said!"

"I don't know how you can say such things." Velma replied. There was a quiet sort of resignation in the butch woman's voice. "They know how we feel about each other and they know you wouldn't lie about a thing like that. Besides...Eddie has a reputation--has for years. It's about time someone put her back in her place!"

Velma took in the lovely sight of her beautiful young wife. The large faded softball shirt she wore barely covered her round, pert little panty clad bottom. Shari shifted a little closer to the old dyke and touched the top of her hand. She looked up at Velma with a pleading expression. "Just hold me, please? I want to forget about what happened."