The Rite

"I'm sorry. I just heard the sobs and thought that you...I mean men don't really cry," she said.

"Why are you hiding in here alone and not going out and dragging some willing woman in here by her hair?" she asked.

That was a good thing. It let me know that she hadn't seen my holographic video. She'd probably come in just after I started crying like a loser.

"I guess we're both hiding from something," she said. For some reason I thought that nodding my head was something that she could see.

"Since we'll never see each other again, maybe we can help each other. You know, stranger therapy? You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine. We don't know each other so we have no reason to lie about things. We can both be brutally honest with each other and give our opinions. Who knows maybe we can each see something that the other doesn't."

Somehow she again managed to sense my nod. "I'll go first," she said. "I'm in here hiding because I hate the Rite..." I started laughing hysterically.

"We've got more in common than you thought," I threw in.

"No," she said. "In my case it's much worse. I guess I grew up hearing all of the fairy tales and that's what I want. I guess I'm pretty. But I just haven't found the right guy. I think it's my personality more than anything else. My opinions kind of contradict each other. On one hand I really believe that the Rite is another form of sexism. It's just another way for men to control women. I want to have complete control over myself and my body. I guess that makes me a feminist. But not really..." she sighed.

"Most of the women who are known for their feminist views support the Rite. They support it because it seems okay to them that every woman can go out and have sex with strange men instead of being tied to their husbands and families and jobs. They look at marriage as being some kind of prison and see the Rite as being a way for a woman to kick sand in her husband's face and tell him that he doesn't own her."

"What confuses me is that as much as I want to control my own destiny, all I really want is the power to choose the man I give myself to. I want to be married. I want a husband who married me because he loves me. Not for financial or political reasons or anything else. I just hate the fact that I have to go out in the streets and offer myself to some stranger and have sex with him or get a huge fine or be thrown in jail."

She sighed again. Listening to her talk was soothing. The sound of her voice was calming. She had a little bit of an accent. I couldn't really make it out but it was definitely southern.

"I've been reading these articles about some of the techniques lesbians use if they absolutely can't stomach fucking a man. I decided to try some of them. I figured the easiest one to do would be to find a homeless guy and just get him drunk and take his tag. I spent fifty bucks on a guy before I found out that he'd already fucked some chick and given his tag away. The bastard kept talking about it like it was in his pocket."

I laughed my ass off when she said that. Then I told her my story. She was shocked. "What a stupid bitch," she hissed. "You know that's illegal right? She...he...they could get in a lot of trouble. They'd have to do jail time if you could prove it."

"I can," I said. "I'm going to try to force her to give me a divorce."

"But that will ruin your career too," she said. "No one really cares who was at fault in a divorce. Both parties are just assumed to be failures."

"It's not that way everywhere," I said. "And really I just want out. If people want to look down on me because I got rid of a cheater, then I don't really need those people. My friends know me and know what I'm like. Besides, who says I'll ever need to get married again."

"You're obviously a nice guy," she said. "From the way you described your marriage and the way you talked about her any woman would be lucky to have you. I wouldn't go for the divorce though. What you said is good but society today just looks down on divorced people. If you really have the evidence, put them in jail. There are a lot of prosecutors out there who are looking to kiss the government's ass. They get off on cases involving the Rite. You could put them in jail for so long that it would be as if you were divorced. By the time they got out, they'd be too old to cause you any trouble and maybe things will have changed by then."

"That's an interesting line of thought," I said. "Thanks."

"If only my problem was so easily solved," she said.

"Yours is much easier," I said. "Here you go." I handed her my tag.

"Do I have to take my clothes off, or is this just going to be a quickie?" she asked without enthusiasm.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You gave me your tag," she said. "We have to have sex."

"We just did," I said. "We had oral...okay it was verbal sex. One of the names for a conversation is intercourse, right?"

"She reached over in the darkness and hugged me. Then she got up and opened the door."

As the door opened, we were both surprised to find that the sun was coming up.

"You really saved my ass," she said. "I have just enough time to turn this in. I could have lost my job or...I owe you one." Then she was gone. I smiled and thought about the classic Pat Benatar song,"Promises in the dark." It was easy to owe a flavor to someone you could never track down and whose name you didn't know. It was especially easy when they didn't know your name or anything about you either.

I walked slowly back to my Mustang with lots of new ideas going through my head. I can't actually say that I was happy. On some levels I was worse than ever before. But at least now after talking to...whoever she was, I didn't feel completely hopeless. I could see a light at the end of the tunnel. And maybe the light wasn't from an oncoming train.

As I drove home I didn't have a care in the world. I actually concentrated on and enjoyed driving my car for the first time in a very long time.

In fact as I walked in the door to my house, I was humming.

My humming suddenly stopped in mid phrase as I noticed Delphina staring at me angrily.

"Where the hell were you?" she demanded to know.

"The Rite, remember?" I said.

"We had plans, remember?" she hissed even more vehemently. "You were supposed to just meet someone fuck her and then drag your ass home and forget about it. We were supposed to make each other forget having sex with some God damned strangers who don't give a damn about us, remember." She got up and walked over to me.

"I don't remember a thing about you going out and meeting some whore and spending the entire night with her. You've never done anything like that before. And now you come skipping back into the house and you're humming. You're as happy as a pig in shit, while I spent the entire God damned night waiting for you and worrying about you. She must've been really special."

I just shook my head then. "Delphina, I just want to take a shower and go to sleep," I said. "Maybe we can talk about this later. I'm really tired and my BIBSA is full."

"What you are is drained," she spat. "For over a week I've been practically sticking my pussy in your face you wouldn't touch me..."

"Five," I said.

"But you can go out and meet some stranger and spend the whole night fucking her and then expect me not to talk about it. You must be..."

"Four," I said. As she looked at me curiously.

"So let me guess," she continued. "You met up with some hot twenty year old girl. She made you feel young again and you..."

"Three," I said with all of the tension and a bit of anger creeping into my voice.

"You do know that anything that little bitch did for you, I can do too, of you give me a chance," she said angrily.

"Two," I spat through clenched teeth.

"What are you counting anyway?" she shouted. "Is it the number of times you fucked her?"

"Delphina I told you my BIBSA was full," I said calmly.

"Your what?" she asked.

"My built in Bullshit absorber," I said. "It takes in all of the bullshit that people spew at me and absorbs it. When it's full, I can't handle anymore bullshit and I blow up."

"Very funny," she said. "I think I get it now, you were drunk. It makes sense. So how many times did you fuck this little whore while your wife, the mother of your child was here at home waiting for you? I stayed in that fucking tub until I shriveled up like a prune."

"Well...I tried," I said shrugging my shoulders but you wouldn't let me."

"I wouldn't let you what?" she asked. "Tyler there isn't anything I wouldn't let you try and you know it."

"I tried to do this in a civilized way," I said calmly. "But you wouldn't let me. So let's just get this shit over with so I can get some fucking sleep." Delphina wasn't used to me talking to her like that.

"Let me start out by answering your stupid assed question," I said. "You asked how many times I fucked her. It was none. Just like every other time, Delphina. I've never gone out and had sex with anyone since we first got married. Before tonight, I loved you too much. I just couldn't do it. Too bad you don't feel the same." Her eyes got huge.

"Usually I just give my tag to our daughter so she doesn't have to have sex with a stranger. I just trade tags with one of the guys at work. I didn't have a chance to do that this time. I learned that tag switching trick from you, Delphina."

"Honey, I don't know what you mean," she said. "I'm sorry I was just worried and..."

"And don't try to get out of it now whore," I yelled. Her face went ashen.

"Since we're asking questions, what did you do tonight?" I asked.

"Well I didn't want to break the law so I just found some guy and..." she began.

"What was his name?" I asked.

"How would I know?" she asked. "He was just a guy and it was over pretty quickly and I came back home to you."

She kept looking between me and the floor and for a few minutes that seemed like hours no one said a word.

"I tried," I said. "But there's no talking to you. You're just incapable of telling the truth."

"Wha...what do you mean Honey?" she asked.

"Delphina always remember that I loved you with all of my heart. And that you're responsible for what happened to us," I said.

"Tyler you sound crazy," she said.

"There's a difference between crazy and stupid," I said. "I was stupid but not anymore. You can stop lying Delphina so we can figure out our next step. I really want a divorce but if I can't get one, I'll settle for you and Gene going to jail."

"We're not getting a fucking divorce, Tyler," she said. "I love you there's no need for it.." Then she looked at me strangely.

"What do you mean me going to jail? Who the hell is Gene?" she asked.

"Delphina why the fuck did I ever love you? You can't tell the truth even when your ass is one the line. Forget it; we'll just do this through the lawyers," I said.

"Wait, Honey," she whined. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"So you weren't aware that the guy you spent two hours fucking tonight was your old boyfriend, Gene Simmons? That shocks the piss out of me."

"Okay, Tyler I screwed Gene but it didn't mean anything. It was just random chance that we ran into each other. And it was only sex it was over in twenty minutes not two hours."

"If it didn't mean anything why did you suck his dick at least three times, let him fuck your ass and tell him you belonged to him not me?" I asked.

"I...I was just..." her eyes filled with tears.

"You were just cheating on me," I finished for her.

"It was the Rite," she cried.

"Bullshit," I said. "It's an affair. I don't even know how many times you've fucked him. But this is the fourth time that I have on video. I can also prove that you broke the law by arranging where you'd meet to make sure it wasn't random. Do I need to show you all of the receipts for your room?"

I tapped my watch and the holographic video of her fucking Gene popped into the space between us.

"See the look on your face?" I said. "You're enjoying it. When the two of you get out of jail you'll have all the time in the world to enjoy it even more. I'll have someone else by then and maybe even more children. Maybe we'll all get together and have a couples' fuck session, but shit, by the time you guys get out we'll all be too old for sex and..."

"No Tyler," she screamed. "It isn't what you think. Please let me explain."

"Yeah go ahead and explain why the two of you weren't happy just cheating on me. Explain why you have to demean me. Tell me why he wanted my sloppy seconds? That's just weird. Explain to me why he made you suck his dick after it had been up your ass and he wanted you to kiss me."

"I was never going to..." she began. "Tyler I just let him..."

"You just let him ruin our marriage," I said.

"No, Honey, no," she said. "I promise, I'll never see him again and I'll make this all..."

"It's too late for that," I said. "I'm going to take shower and go to sleep for a while. I need you to pack your things and leave. Until we work out the divorce settlement and we figure out who gets the house, I'll be staying here. I took your name off of the bank accounts. Your credit cards will still work but you can't use them for cash advances or transfers. If you abuse them before we work things out, I'll cut you off totally. I'm trying to be nice, but don't take advantage of me."

"No Tyler," she said again. "Please don't do this. Give me a chance..."

"A chance to do what?" I asked. "A chance to hurt me more? I don't see it. And one last thing; I want a DNA test."

"For what?" she asked.

"Because I can't trust you at all," I said. "I heard you mention the scare. How do I know that she's actually my daughter? I mean I feel like she is, but you didn't make him wear a condom and I have no idea how long you two have been doing this behind my back. If she isn't my daughter, I've heard that judges will either make the bastard pay me back for all of the money I've spent over the years or add the number of years I supported her to both of your sentences."

"Tyler she's your daughter. I love you too much to do something like that," she cried.

"So you say," I told her. "But we already know that I can't trust you. Pack your shit and be gone by the time I wake up."

I went up and took a shower. I did my best to just ignore the sounds I heard and after a while, I was asleep. I woke up in the middle of the day. It was a bright sunny Sunday and after brushing my teeth and not shaving, I dressed and went downstairs.

My daughter breezed through the kitchen and gave me a quick hug. "Thanks dad," she said sarcastically.

"What did I do now?" I asked.

"Mom is a basket case," she said. "She's been crying all morning, so instead of me going out and hanging with my friends, I'm stuck here taking care of your woman."

"She's not my woman anymore," I said.

"Right," she said stretching the single syllable word out to three or four and conveying her disbelief with every syllable.

"I'm serious," I said.

"Like you were serious about the DNA test?" she said.

"I'm sorry, Honey," I said. "But..."

"Daddy, stop talking to me like I'm an idiot," she said. "You did that to hurt Mom because she hurt you. You asking for a DNA test is like saying she's a slut. She's so emotionally distraught right now that she isn't thinking clearly."

"So if she was thinking clearly," I began. "What would the difference be?"

"Dad, every kid in the state gets a DNA screening in elementary school, remember. I had that done 15 years ago when I was 5. I'm your daughter. If you look through the records in the office you'll see it. Don't you remember sitting me on your lap and trying to explain it to me? And if that wasn't enough; Mom has brown eyes, you have the same weird eyes that I do. Our eyes are Blue with little gold flecks in them. Grandpa on your side had them too remember. He called it a family trait."

I nodded my head and she smiled at me.

"Daddy, I heard the two of you going at it this morning," she said. "You really nailed her ass to the wall. You made her feel really bad. I get it. She hurt you, so you hurt her back even more. Can you forgive her now?"

I didn't say anything.

"Daddy, I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm twenty years old. I didn't even need you to protect me from the Rite this year. I just went out and got it over with. It only took twenty minutes. I spend more time than that getting my nails done. I don't believe in it. I think it's stupid. But when you look back in history and see where the country was going..." she paused.

"Daddy when you were growing up, there were a lot of divorces weren't there?" she asked.

I nodded again. "Well now there are almost none," she said. "I don't have any friends whose parents aren't together. So maybe the Rite isn't so bad."

"But this is different," I said.

"I know you think it's different," she said. "Daddy, I know how you feel. You don't believe in the Rite. You do everything you can to get out of it. You believe that a marriage is supposed to be between two people and they get married because they love each other and they never need anyone else. I feel the same way. But Daddy, human beings are not perfect. It's not fair to expect them to be perfect. We have desires and hormones and attractions all the time. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you've never looked at another woman since you and Mom have been together?"

"Nope, I can't" I said.

"So why do you expect Mom to?" she asked.

"Because there's a difference between looking at someone and fucking them," I said. "Besides if this was just the Rite, I wouldn't be upset at your mother at all. What your mother did goes beyond the Rite. What she did was cheating. I don't want to be married to a woman that I can't trust."

"Daddy, she loves you so much it's crazy. What harm is there if she screws some random guy a couple of times a year?" she asked.

"It's not some random guy," I said. "It's her old boyfriend. He's the one she screws every time. Besides it being illegal..." I stopped.

"Honey, I just don't want to talk about this anymore. It just feels weird talking to my daughter about who her mother is having sex with," I said.

"Daddy our generation grew up with the Rite," she said. "We talked about sex and how it pertains to the Rite in school. So I've been having these discussions forever."

"Not with me," I said.

"Daddy, I love both of you," she said. "And I don't want to see my family split apart. And you should at least think about me a little bit. I mean society views divorced people as failures. People just don't trust them. And I think in some cases the kids of divorced parents are looked at a little sideways too. People act like your parents being divorced means you're prone to it as well."

"Sorry Angel, I hadn't thought about it that way," I said. "But there's really nothing I can do about any of this."

"Daddy, we learned in school that if a couple is willing to sit down and listen to each other, they can usually work almost anything out. Maybe the two of you just need counseling."

"Sorry, Honey but I don't think this marriage can be saved," I said.

"But why not?" she asked.

"Because only one of us wants to save it," said Delphina from behind me. "I guess it only meant something to one of us."

"And that one of us sure in the hell wasn't you," I spat. "Don't start trying to be the fucking victim here, Mother Theresa. If you could have kept your fucking legs closed or even just followed the rules for the Rite, our marriage wouldn't be ending. And if you want it to last so fucking bad you do have an option."

"What's that?" she asked.

"I already told you," I said. "You can go to jail and hope that I've had a change of heart in twenty or thirty years when you get out."