Unfinished Business

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June 1979

Robert Archer looked out from the temporary wooden stage that had been set up on the school's exercise field, surveying the crowd that filled the folding chairs before it. In the front rows, clad in blue caps and gowns, sat this year's graduating class of Hanley High, and filling the seats behind them, family and friends. Shaded by the protective canopy that had been erected over the makeshift pavilion, Robert felt a touch of sympathy for the graduates, who had only their mortarboards to protect them from the already blazing mid-morning sun.

'What idiot first thought it made sense to have outdoor graduations in June, especially in Florida?' the twenty-three-year-old thought. 'It has to be almost ninety degrees already.'

Despite the heat, the presiding faculty didn't seem to have any intent of shortening the ceremony due to the weather. Principal O'Neil had been speaking for over a half hour already, and showed no signs of stopping. Robert couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but he was certain that the woman was giving the same speech she gave at his own graduation five years before, with just a few anecdotes pertaining to the current student body thrown in at appropriate intervals. The speech hadn't impressed him when he was sitting out in the third row, and it had even less of an impact on him now. The mention of his name as this year's guest speaker brought the hope that she was finally coming to the end.

Robert wasn't sure if having written two best-selling novels really qualified him as a distinguished alumnus, but given the honoree at his own ceremony, the requirements couldn't be that exacting. Nineteen seventy-four had been the school's diamond jubilee and they'd picked Nelson Ferrari, a retired local businessman, whose sole qualification seemed to be that he'd been part of the class of '14.

Ferrari, Robert recalled one of the parents saying, had won a medal in the First World War. He didn't remember the name of it, but described it as a sort of participation award more than a personal decoration -- a fact that was left out of his speech, which had been both pointless and seemingly never-ending. Having finally earned his moment in the spotlight, the septuagenarian proved reluctant to give it up.

Mrs. O'Neil finally finished her own remarks and, turning in Robert' direction, invited him to deliver his, a cue he totally missed as his mind was still on his own commencement. Thankfully, the teacher sitting to his left realized this and gave him a subtle nudge to alert him that it was his turn to speak. Quickly rising to his feet, the sandy haired author moved to the lectern and, after thanking the principal for the introduction he hadn't heard, removed an index card, on which he'd scribbled a few thoughts, from his jacket pocket.

Accepting the invitation to speak at his alma mater had been his publisher's idea, an added bit of publicity to coincide with the upcoming release of his new novel. If he was honest about it, Robert had few good memories of his time at Hanley High. While not exactly a loner, he had few friends and was hardly a spectacular student. What he did have was a natural born talent for storytelling, along with the ability to put those tales into a respectable form. His first professionally published story had come during the second half of senior year, appearing in a popular literary magazine. That the story, with only a few editing changes, had been rejected by Hanley's own bi-annual publication a few months before always brought an amused smile to his face.

A smile that showed now as he delivered his oration, which, to the appreciation of the crowd sitting in the hot sun, was brief and concise, running less than ten minutes. He simply congratulated the graduates and advised them to follow their dreams, even if no one else had faith in them. Nothing soul-searching or overly inspiring, but enough to fulfill his obligation.

Once he sat back down, it didn't take long to hand out the diplomas. Unlike what had preceded it, this part of the ceremony went off with clock-like precision as, maintaining a respectable space between them, each graduate climbed the staircase on the right, moved to center stage where they paused just long enough to be photographed accepting their diploma, then exited down the staircase on the left.

Robert's attention began to again drift again after the first dozen or so students revived their diplomas and he began to read the back of his program where local merchants had taken out advertisements congratulating the graduates, and at the same time promoting their businesses. His head abruptly jerked upward, however, when he heard a familiar name.

Bud Stefanowski had been one of his classmates, a casual acquaintance more than a friend, but one who lived on the same block growing up. The long-haired redhead, who glanced in his direction after being handed her certificate, bore little resemblance to the gangly adolescent he remembered, but she was unmistakably Bud's younger sister.

As the sunlight washed over the thin, almost translucent gown, it highlighted the well-developed form beneath it, one clad in a minimum amount of clothing. Robert suddenly felt a lot older than he did a few minutes ago, as he compared the image of the shapely beauty with the annoying brat that had always seemed to follow him around in his teens.

'Damn, Jeanine, you done grown up good,' Robert thought, realizing that she couldn't have been more than twelve the last time he'd seen her.

He paid more careful attention to the rest of the commencement, recognizing, if not the faces, then the names of two other younger siblings of people he'd known. A brother and a sister, the latter didn't produce anywhere near the reaction Jeanie had.

The ceremony finally ended, and once it did the now no longer students were quick to leave the field, determined to celebrate the event in their own manner. Robert too got up to depart, only to have his exit delayed by a few teachers who stepped forward to say that they'd read his books and always knew he'd had it in him to be a great writer. He graciously accepted their compliments, but wondered at the same time how many even knew his name when he'd been a student.

There was one teacher, he noted, that didn't approach him. In fact, the older man went out of his way to walk to the far end of the stage and use the staircase there. Head of the English department for the last twenty years, Karl Bakersmith had also been Robert's teacher his last two years at Hanley. He had been the one who had rejected the story that jump started his career, calling it, at the time, a piece of ill written claptrap.

'Screw you, old man,' Robert thought as he flashed his old antagonist a smile, 'I hope it gave you angina when you saw my books on display down at Fitzgerald's Bookstore.'

Finally getting past the crowd, Robert headed for the far end of the parking lot where he'd parked his rental car. Having only gotten into town just in time for the ceremony, he still needed to head over to the Bluestar Motel and get a room for the night. His parents had moved down to Longtown for his father's job while he was away in college, so he no longer had a place to stay in town. He'd just reached the Pontiac Sunbird when he heard someone calling his name.

-=-=-=-

Turning in the direction the voice had come from, Robert saw a blonde-haired woman in a green dress hurrying in his direction, waving her hand as she got closer to catch his attention. He didn't recognize her, at least not from this distance, but her display of urgency made him stop and wait for her.

Once she caught up with him, that changed. It wasn't so much her features that he recognized as her voice, the former having changed considerably from what he'd remembered.

"You took off so fast that I didn't get the chance to even say hello," the woman said as she caught her breath, brushing a few strands of her layered tresses, cut just above her shoulders, away from her face.

"Mrs. Evans?" Robert asked, his tone still reflecting a bit of uncertainty.

"Hiya, Bobby," she smiled.

Clarice Evans was the mother of Gary Evans, a friend from his own days at Hanley. The last time he'd seen her had been at her son's wedding, four years before. Not so long ago, he thought, yet long enough for her to have transformed into a vastly different person.

The woman he remembered had been almost twenty pounds heavier, with hair less bright and vibrant. She was still slightly overweight, and there were a few more age lines on her face, but for a woman in her late fifties, she looked pretty good. Especially when he considered that his own mother, who was a decade younger, had begun to look more like his grandmother with each passing year.

"I almost didn't recognize you," Robert blurted out in surprise. "You look great, I really mean that."

"Thank you," she smiled, "divorce will do that for you."

'That's right,' Robert thought, remembering that Gary had written to him a few months after the wedding to say that his parents had split up. As far back as he could remember, the Evans' union had been a contentious one, so the news hadn't come as much of a surprise.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Bobby," Clarice added. "Living up there in New York City must agree with you. I really like the suit."

Robert didn't feel the need to correct her and point out that he lived out on Long Island and only occasionally went into the city on business. For most of the country, if you mentioned New York, they simply assumed New York City, or more specifically, the borough of Manhattan -- the part they were most likely to see on their television screens.

"I actually go by Robert nowadays," he said instead.

"Ah, big shot authors aren't called Bobby, are they?" Clarice laughed. "Okay then, but if you're old enough to be calling yourself Robert, then you're old enough to also call me Clarice. Mrs. Evans makes me sound so old."

"Fair enough," Robert replied before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"I work at the school now," she replied, "Office Administrator. I didn't feel right staying at Pembroke Electronics after the divorce."

"That's awesome," Robert said, remembering that Paul Evans, her now ex-husband, was a senior manager at the company. He also wondered why Gary had never thought the change worth mentioning in his letters.

"Well, at least you're impressed," Clarice laughed as she answered the unasked question. "My own son didn't think it was a big deal. His only comment was that he was glad I hadn't gotten the job when he was at the school."

"Yeah, that sounds like Gary," Robert agreed.

"In fact, I'm on the commencement committee", she added. "I was the one who suggested your name as the alumni speaker."

"Why'd you do that?" Robert asked.

"I thought it was time that the kids heard from someone who wasn't collecting social security, someone young enough that they might actually relate to them," she offered.

Again recalling Mr. Ferrari's speech, Robert thought that wasn't a bad idea.

"Who seconded the nomination?" Robert inquired out of curiosity, aware of how the process worked.

"Anna Brathwaite," Clarice said, "but to tell you the truth, I think she did it more to piss off Mr. Bakersmith than anything else. The two of them have been going at it for the last year, ever since that rumor went around that there was something going on between her and the student teacher she was mentoring. No one really knows if it was true or not, or who even started the rumor, but she believed it was Karl Bakersmith."

"Why would he have done that?" Robert asked, the writer in him always curious about motivations.

"Well, you didn't hear it from me, but ..." Clarice said, pausing long enough to glance to her left and right to make sure that no one else was within earshot, "from what I understand, the two of them had a thing going for a while. One that abruptly stopped when the younger man came into the picture."

"Miss Brathwaite?" Robert said, unable to imagine the teacher, who'd already been in her late sixties when he'd been in her class, still having sex.

"I'm not saying either story was true," Clarice added, "but I hope I'm still climbing into the saddle when I'm that age."

Robert wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that remark, so he simply smiled. Thankfully, Clarice quickly moved past it.

"I can't tell you how surprised I was when your publisher called the school and said you'd come to the ceremony," she said. "I really only put out your name as an example of the type of person we should be inviting. I never imagined that you'd be interested in returning to this backwater town."

"It's not that bad," Robert said, not wanting to admit that coming to the commencement had been his publisher's doing, "and after all, I did grow up here."

"Maybe so, but you didn't seem to waste any time getting out as soon as you could," Clarice pointed out.

Robert was about to say that was for college, but then realized that he hadn't considered coming back after that either. Rockridge Creek, population five thousand and ten, really wasn't the place to advance a budding writing career.

"I was coming down to visit my parents this weekend anyway," he said, ignoring her last comment and giving what seemed like a valid reason for his acceptance. "So, I figured, why not, it might be fun."

"How are your parents doing?' Clarice asked.

"Both are doing fine," he replied.

"Well, tell them I said hello," Clarice said. "Are you going to head down there this afternoon?"

"Actually, I thought I'd spend the rest of the day here and take a look around, see what's changed," Robert said. "Then head down to Longtown in the morning."

"Where are you planning to stay?" Clarice inquired.

"Well, unless something has changed in the last few years, I'm guessing that the Bluestar is my best bet," Robert answered. "In fact, I was just about to head over there to get a room and -- "

"You'll do no such thing," Clarice interrupted. "I'll not have you staying at that flea trap when you can stay in Gary's old room. Your mother would never forgive me. You'll stay at my house and that's all there is to it. I won't take no for an answer."

Gary, Robert knew, had moved to Ashford Falls soon after his wedding, which had been of the shotgun variety, to manage the new furniture store that his father-in-law had opened there. In the years since, he and his exceedingly fertile wife had produced three more rugrats -- two of them twins, with another on the way.

"Well then, I guess I'll have to accept," Robert said, hiding the fact that he really didn't want to.

"Good," Clarice said with a satisfied look.

Robert explained that, in addition to his intention to look around town, his publisher, ever mindful that every bit of good publicity helped, had arranged for him to sign some advance copies of his new novel at Fitzgerald's. Copies which would be raffled off for charity when they became available next week.

"No problem," Clarice smiled. "Dinner is still at seven, that work for you?"

When Robert said it did, Clarice turned and walked away, heading for her own car which was parked over in the faculty lot.

-=-=-=-

As he headed off in the direction of downtown, Robert still couldn't get over the change in Mrs. Evans ... no, in Clarice, he corrected himself. Not just her physical appearance, which in itself was impressive, but her demeanor as well. He remembered her as a quiet, even reserved, woman, although that could be said of most women who came of age back in the forties.

Still, even back then, there was one thing that set Clarice apart from the other happy homemakers. None of them had ever seen his cock.

The incident had been the most embarrassing moment of his teen years, occurring only a week before Robert had left for college. One which he had only recently, been able to look back on with some degree of amusement.

He and Gary had gone on a double date with Amber Clayton, who Robert had taken to the prom, and Lisa Ann Cooper, who was now Mrs. Evans. The date had gone well enough, with them seeing the new Burt Reynolds film, The Longest Yard, at the drive in before heading up to the overlook at Newtown Ridge -- a local make out spot since their grandparents' day. In between, they'd stopped off at a convenience store to take advantage of their recently achieved majority and pick up a six pack of beer.

Lisa Ann, it turned out, didn't need alcohol as an inducement to get busy in the back seat with Gary. The two of them had been going hot and heavy for weeks, progressing further each time they went out. Robert didn't think they'd gone all the way yet; otherwise his friend wouldn't have still wanted to double date. Not even Gary was insensitive enough to try and screw his girlfriend with two other people in the front seat.

Amber, on the other hand, not only finished off a full bottle of the cold brew, but half of a second one. Unfortunately, even with her inhibitions well relaxed, the best Robert got that night was his hands under the brunette's blouse, but not inside her pants. There were limits to how far she was willing to go with a boy that was going to be a thousand miles away at school in a few days, only coming home every few months. Still, he'd had a good enough time, as she was at least willing to rub his cock through his jeans.

Afterwards, on the drive home, Gary had been insistent that they drop Amber off first, even though Lisa Ann lived closer to the Ridge. Then, to Robert's puzzlement, instead of just sharing a good night kiss at her front door, as he had with Amber, Gary sat the two of them on the porch bench instead. From what Robert could see by the dim porchlight, the couple were having an animated conversation.

'Oh shit, is he breaking up with her?' Robert wondered, now feeling a bit awkward as he watched them.

Breaking up with a girl if she got too serious, Robert knew, was an essential part of Gary's repertoire. He'd done it with his last two girlfriends. Feeling a bit like he was spying on something that should be private, the sandy haired teen turned away and began fiddling with the radio. After a minute or so, curiosity got the better of him and he again looked in their direction.

'Where's Lisa?' he thought as he saw Gary sitting there alone. 'Did she already go in?'

A flash of red hair suddenly appeared above the shrubs that partially obstructed Robert's view, only to disappear just as quickly. A process that repeated itself several times before, with a loud sigh of surprise, the young man realized what he was watching.

"Holy shit, she's blowing him," Robert said, in disbelief.

A blow job was the holy grail among the guys at Hanley High, something always talked about, but rarely received. The general wisdom was that you had a better chance of convincing a girl into spreading their legs than getting one of them to take you in their mouth. Yet there was Lisa Ann going to town on Gary's cock.

Now unable to turn away, Robert understood why Gary had insisted that they drop off Amber first. There was no way Lisa was going to suck his dick if she thought her girlfriend might see it. That Robert might didn't seem to carry the same concern.

Five minutes later, with a satisfied look on his face, Gary returned to the car and climbed in next to Robert. He didn't say a word about what had happened, other than a mention that Lisa Ann might just be the one.

They'd previously planned for Robert to spend the night over at the Evans house, as they had a baseball game the next morning. So, some time about a quarter after one, each settled into one of the twin beds that Gary used to share with his older brother before he moved out.