Term Paper Blues

As they headed out to the lot, Andrew decided to give her the $250 gift money. He'd already been thinking about spending it on fun stuff for himself on the way over, but he realized she might need it for bare necessities.

"Tanja, how much money do you have? Is someone going to send some to you?"

"Maybe, once I get to where I'm going. I spent most of my savings fixing up the car. I've only got about $50 left. I'll figure something out."

"Here, I want you to have this." Andrew handed her the envelope. "It's not much, but I think it'll come in handy on your journey."

Tanja looked in the envelope. "Oh, thank you, Andrew, but I can't take this. I don't want to feel like a hooker."

He had to think quickly. "It's a loan, Tanja, not a gift. No interest, pay it back when you can. A year from now, whenever. Besides, I would have paid a hell of a lot more for you if it was a trick. This would barely cover a tip."

Tanja had to laugh at the bawdy compliment. "Thanks. This will take a load off my mind.

"Say, what's the best way to get to I45? Out the main entrance over there?"

"No, it usually is, but there's construction now. The detour will take you out of your way. There's an easier short cut, back the way we came. But you can't turn left out of the lot.

"See the people at the bus stop across the way, to the right? You can make a U-turn in the driveway behind them and head back this way. And can you see that little sign for the central kitchen that we passed earlier? Turn in there and go around the building. There's an exit in the back that will take you out to University Street. Then it's a straight shot to the expressway, and that turns into I45 past downtown."

"Andrew, I'm not sure what to say at this point. Thank you and goodbye and ... what a world-class great fuck that was this morning. I'll be thinking about that for along time."

"And thank you, too, Tanja. My sentiments exactly. Plus, I'm grateful for your clever, patient foreplay lessons. I'm glad we had time for that."

"And every woman you bed in the future will be grateful, too. Remember that." She took both his hands in hers. "Maybe we should finish with just a hug. You saw what happened the last time we started kissing."

They enjoyed one final embrace. Tanja started her engine and backed out. "Bye, Andrew. I hope you get an A on your paper."

He watched her head out the driveway and turn right. Then an unexpected sound: the rumble of a big block Chevy V8 engine. A sound not heard on campus since Ethan dropped out.

Andrew saw a rally green Camaro roar past the driveway. He got a quick glimpse. It was Ethan's car alright, but it definitely wasn't him driving. Two scary guys in dark glasses were headed the same direction as Tanja. He felt sick.

Andrew ran down the driveway toward the street. The Camaro didn't anticipate her U-turn and screeched to a halt. The traffic prevented them from following her or backing up at first. Tanja drove past him and waved. He tried to warn her, but he could barely move. Like he was swimming in molasses. But what could he have done? They'd grab her if she stopped. The campus police couldn't get there in time to do anything. And they wouldn't be prepared to deal with ruthless heavies like that.

Tanja turned into the central kitchen driveway. The Camaro became bogged down in traffic again and went up over the curb and onto the sidewalk to keep up. They knocked down a sign and ran over a trash can. Students screamed and jumped out of the way.

Andrew rushed back into the lobby and dialed 911.

"I want to report a kidnapping in progress." In his panic he sputtered out confusing information to the operator.

"Just tell me what route the victim is on so I can coordinate a response."

"She's on University Street, headed to North Central Expressway, then south to I45."

Andrew described Tanja's car but he didn't know her license plate number. He knew Ethan's car, though.

"It's a '69 Camaro Super Sport, Texas personal license plate: 69CMRO, rally green with racing stripes and a white vinyl hardtop, 396 engine."

"How do you know all this detail about their car?"

"It used to belong to a good friend. He owed money to some bad people. They probably took his car."

"Is she headed to Houston?"

Andrew had no idea. He tried to think if she inadvertently dropped any clues. The only thing that came to mind was Tanja's fondness for Cajun and Zydeco music. Jo-el Sonnier and Clifton Chenier. John Delafose and Beausoleil. Whenever they were all hanging out and it was her turn to select the music, that's what she usually played. It was the only time he ever saw her happy and upbeat, dancing around the room—even though Ethan would never join her.

"I don't know. She didn't want to tell me. All I know for sure is she asked for directions to I45, but she may not be on it for long. The only wild guess I could offer is she might be headed to Louisiana, maybe on I20."

Andrew gave the operator his contact information. He felt queasy. He regretted eating the sugary Sno Ball cake, even if it was only half. Andrew thought about trying to throw up. He staggered down the hall to his classroom. When he turned the corner, he saw Professor Darden closing the door. It was exactly 8:00 AM.

"Mr. Vinson, I hope your final assignment is in the box. Otherwise you'll be getting a refund on your cap and gown rental." The lock on the door clicked into place.

Andrew slumped down on the floor and choked back a tear for Tanja. There was nothing to do but start studying for his finals.

* * *

Andrew took his other tests the following week and felt confident about the results. It helped take his mind off Tanja a little. He hadn't heard anything about her and probably wouldn't. He had to sweat it out before the English 436 grades were posted outside Professor Darden's office. He found his student number on the list and let out a whoop of joy: A on the final paper, B minus overall. Just then Professor Darden opened his office door, heading out for the day.

"Mr. Vinson, step inside. I've got your final project."

Andrew beamed with satisfaction when he saw the big red "A" on the front. He flipped through the pages, overcome with emotion seeing the many positive comments.

"You know, Andrew, I have some crow to eat. This is one of the most unique and well thought out analyses I've seen on Faulkner, student or professional—albeit very unconventional. You took a risk and it paid off due to your clever premise and inspired execution. If you'd done work at this level all during the course, you would have gotten an A. Excellent job. I didn't know you had it in you."

As Andrew walked back to his car, he worried about Tanja. He wouldn't be celebrating his success if not for her contributions. If she hadn't called, he'd be getting that cap and gown refund.

* * *

The next day Andrew got a call from a Leticia Sandoval, who claimed to be a trooper with the Texas Rangers.

"Mr. Vinson, I have some good news for you. The Camaro driver and passenger were apprehended in Van Zandt County on Interstate 20. This was Friday, the day you called. This turned out to be a very valuable tip. It led us back to some people we've been after for some time now."

"What about Tanja? Is she OK?"

"We never located Ms. Tomczyk. There are a lot of blue Honda Civics out there. Our primary focus was on the Camaro. The suspects admitted they were trying to track her down, but she got away. They had incriminating evidence in their car."

"Like what?"

"A city map with two red X's. One for My Second Chance transition house where she lived and one for her workplace at the Aurora Bakery. And a Polaroid that has a Caucasian couple with the female's picture circled."

"Did they have my apartment marked? Do I need to worry about them coming after me?"

"No, just the two addresses for her. You're probably OK. The less you know about these people the better. But you might be able to help ID the couple in the photo. The female is average height, long straight dyed blonde hair—almost white—with lots of dark roots showing, real skinny, a bit of an overbite, big chest—"

"That's Tanja. But she cut her hair short. And it's back to brunette. She wanted to change her appearance when she went on the run."

Trooper Sandoval then described what could only be Mr. Fuck-Up.

"That's Ethan Nelson, the original owner of the Camaro. Tanja's ex-boyfriend."

"Do you have any contact information for him? The address on his registration is his parents' house."

"No, that's the irony about those guys trying to grab Tanja. She didn't have a clue where he was. She had broken off with him months ago so she could go to rehab. She got clean and was going to move out of her transition housing next month. She and a friend were supposed to get an apartment."

"So why didn't she call the police if she was in trouble."

"She was afraid she had a warrant out for her arrest."

"Why would she think that?"

Andrew had to answer carefully. "The police raided the house where she and Ethan were living. They weren't home at the time, but everyone else was arrested."

"We checked her record. There're no outstanding warrants. So I take it you haven't heard anything yet from Ms. Tomczyk?"

"No, she was going completely underground. She was really scared."

"Well, she had a right to be. These aren't nice people. Let's assume she's safe. We can't do anything for her now. Her pursuers and their immediate bosses and several other people in their outfit are in custody now. Thank you again for calling in that tip in a timely manner."

Later that evening Andrew felt something wasn't right about the call from Leticia Sandoval. When did the Texas Rangers start hiring women? He wondered if it was a hoax by the bad guys, trying to lull him into a sense of safety. The next day he called Company B headquarters in Garland and confirmed Ms. Sandoval was indeed a Texas Ranger and working on the Camaro case. He breathed easy for the first time since Tanja called him.

Female Texas Rangers? He supposed it was bound to happen eventually. It couldn't be a men's club forever. But a lot of those good old boys probably quit over that.

* * *

Eleven months later. In the mailbox lobby of an apartment in Springfield, Massachusetts.

Andrew had just gotten home from his job as an actuary for a major insurance company. Among the day's mail was a large envelope, forwarded from his old college apartment in Texas. It had several unusual triangular stamps, some red, some blue. Like his old school colors—a coincidence? The envelope had no return address; it must be from a foreign country with those stamps. But the postmark was Chicago. On closer inspection, the stamps were actually U.S. Postal Service.

He hadn't gotten any re-routed mail from his old address in months. The one year forwarding courtesy was expiring in a few weeks. Whoever sent this was lucky to get this in under the wire. Inside was another sealed envelope, addressed to "Wm. Faulkner." It had to be Tanja.

Andrew tore it open and found a postcard and one more envelope. The postcard image was a statue of some important person, wearing a long cloak and holding a spherical astrolabe. The setting looked very "Old Europe." He flipped it over: Nicolaus Copernicus Monument, Kraków, Poland. Looked like she got to take her trip. He read the handwritten message:

Not here, and not where the envelope is postmarked,

But safe and doing good.

Your courage is a debt I can never repay,

But at least I can repay your faith & generosity.

Instead of a signature, she had drawn a small heart. Andrew opened the other envelope and discovered a trio of identical pictures of Benjamin Franklin: $300. Hmm, he had told her no interest necessary.

Andrew couldn't help thinking about a cascade of what-ifs from his last weeks at school. What if he had been a better student and had completed his English project sooner. Or had one more black molly left? He definitely would have blown her off—no question. Or he could have been working on the paper at the student center or the library instead of his apartment. How his life could have changed for the worse if she hadn't called. It was pure luck and coincidence they had the need for each other that night. Not to mention the next morning.

She never knew how close her kidnappers were. Was she was still wondering if they'd ever catch up with her? Andrew wished there was some way to let her know they'd been sent to prison. Any future mail to his old apartment would end up in the dead letter office if it had no return address. Tanja didn't know about his move or where he lived now. He was relieved to hear she was OK, but he knew he'd never see her again.

And those lessons of hers, taught in the early morning hours the day she left? He'd been able to put those to good use with several very appreciative women, one of whom would be joining him later that evening. Tanja was right: it was truly a gift of a lifetime, worth more than gold.

* * *

If you've read this far, please go ahead and vote. Feel free to favorite or comment as well if you really enjoyed the story - that's what keeps us authors encouraged to write more stories. Thanks!

All characters and events are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is strictly coincidental.