Next she asked if I felt any trauma over killing Vincent. I was somewhat scared to answer her, after all how do you discuss killing a man with his wife? I took my chances, “It was a horrible experience Bethany, but I had to do it to save you! Maybe that is why I have no post-traumatic issues with anything that has happened, even the things he forced me to help him with.” At that point Bethany looked at me and seemed to be fighting back tears as she stated, “Jennifer, I am so sorry I could not protect you. He had a way about him – a gift at being able to convince you of anything, and to make the most horrible things seem so right, so natural. I promise to do everything in my power to protect you from now on.” I felt touched by her sincerity. It was as if I could indeed rely on her to take care of me. In that instant I finally made up my mind that I would do my very best to erase my past and start fresh with her.
For some reason, maybe an affirmation to her, I said, “Let’s find a place that we can live and be happy for the rest of our lives!” Bethany smiled and, I suppose, could no longer fight the tears. She said, “You mean it? Jennifer, we are going to make our dreams come true, I just know it.” I then asked, “Is Montana really as beautiful as you say? If it is then let’s make it our home – and never, ever leave it.”
It has always been difficult for me to engage in idle chit chat with anyone, but I attempted to do so as we drove together through the arid expanses. I finally turned on some talk station to help give us something to have as background. Most of the time it seemed to be an assortment of pathetic callers, but one woman asked the commentator what he thought about childlessness. The woman who called said her only daughter, who had graduated medical school, had informed her she did not intend on having children. The commentator talked about his love for his grandkids but that she should respect her daughter’s choice. I commented out loud, “That is insane! Intelligent people should not be the ones not having kids today!” Bethany asked me what I meant to which I responded, “Well, if smart people would have more kids, and dumb people less, the society would be far better off, don’t you think?” She responded, “I suppose you are right. It’s strange though, you sound so much like Vincent when he was younger.” I was not sure what she meant by that. I hoped it was a compliment. She went on, “Vincent said you two were so much alike, but I am not totally convinced since you aren’t mean. You are so gentle…I doubt you have ever hurt anyone intentionally.” I nodded my head in agreement pondering the irony and implications of what she had said. Maybe Vincent was indeed like me, but he had allowed himself to fall from any sort of grace. I wondered to myself that if I had experienced what he had gone through if I would have lashed out in anger? And then I looked at Bethany and it made perfect sense for her to be the way she was – loving, motherly and, despite her unique way of thinking she was an angel. She obviously needed me as much as I needed her. Fate had brought us together. Yet I laughed in my mind at the idea…I mean it was so absurd in a way, but maybe I should try to incorporate the name “Jennifer” into my own psyche and, once we settled down, actually change my name officially.
The rest of the day I have to say felt totally care-free. I was at ease with the idea of not worrying about my past and only focusing on what the future would bring. In fact, when we finally got to Billings, I suggested we just relax for a few days and celebrate our freedom! And celebrate we did; for the next few days we took in the sights in and around the city, and spent the evenings out dancing. My inhibitions were starting to disappear as well. The first evening there I met some guy; not a cowboy type, just some local yuppie guy I suppose who was maybe in his thirties. We danced a while and he came down and sat at our table. In no time we were locked in a passionate embrace. Bethany excused herself for a while as we made out. I did not even ask his name, and I anticipated going back to his place and making sure I had something to tell Bethany the next day. But when he asked if I’d like to leave with him I hesitated. I instead asked for his number and said I would call him later. Yes, part of me felt strange for remembering I was married after all yet it felt less “sinful” than the night I danced with the stranger in Cheyenne. Maybe I just needed to finally take the plunge, but like someone wanting to get into cold water to swim, it would be a little while longer. After all, I was not the kind to just jump in…I liked to slowly get used to the water.
When Bethany and I got back to our room she asked about the gentleman and seemed immensely happy that I was opening up. She suggested, “Maybe we, I mean you, can call him tomorrow and set up a date.” She seemed too enthusiastic. I again wondered if she felt the more I slept around the less chance I might someday change my mind and want to return to Portland. Yet I did not care. I was completely resolved to break with past mind-sets, personal ethics, and behaviors! And I looked forward to just getting on with it, not just that evening I suppose. Instead I suggested, “Let’s get totally wasted tonight, okay?” She seemed somewhat open to it and went to fetch some wine. The next thing I knew I was waking up with a tremendous hangover at 2pm in the afternoon. So much for sightseeing I supposed. We repeated the same routine for the next three nights – different guys each night. And yes, each time felt a little less “weird.” In fact, I met a guy celebrating his 21st birthday party with friends the forth night in Billings. None of them fit the cowboy image either. While we were in the back of the bar kissing I quickly unbuttoned my blouse and pulled him close to me. He seemed shy buy I guided his hand to just the right spot on my chest. We continued kissing until I whispered in his ear, “Let’s go someplace else and really celebrate your birthday!” I was caught by surprise when he actually moved away from me slowly and asked, “Can you please put your top on before someone sees you? I uh…I’d like to get to know you better before we…you know.” I buttoned my top and he smiled, “Here is my number. I’d like to maybe do dinner, go for a walk…you know, learn about you. I mean, what’s your name?” I smiled and said, “Jennifer.” He replied, “I like that name. Look, call me soon, okay?” He returned to his buddies and I to Bethany. It was late so we went back to the room. I suppose I was making progress since this time I had was quite disappointed I had not gone further.
When we returned to the room Bethany suggested, “In the morning let’s check out and head off for Great Falls. You’ll like the mountains more in that part of the state.” So we skipped drinking so much that evening. The next morning you could definitely feel the chill in the air as we packed the car back up. I still had no good jeans to wear but figured there was plenty of time for that in Great Falls.
Sure enough, the scenery seemed to be turning greener, with more trees on the hillsides. As we drove I reflected over the past several days and nights. I was finally morphing into a new individual – whether it was the caterpillar emerging as the butterfly or something more akin to an ugly moth, I just could not be sure. I was both curious and excited to see what would emerge. Yet I feared I might become disappointed with my actions. I had always felt comfortable with my way of looking at life, and while I had chosen an out-of-the-norm lifestyle on levels unimaginable to most people, I still ultimately based what I did on some ideals of who I wanted to be. True, I certainly did not care about society’s views of right and wrong, but what about my own? Would I be happy in this transformation? I guessed the only way to find out would be to finally just jump in. I sat my goal for October a month before my birthday to sleep with at least five different guys. I hoped Bethany would still appreciate her “girl” once she became, well, a whore.
We finally arrived in Great Falls in the early afternoon. I liked the scenery there more so than Cheyenne. And when we stopped for gas Bethany picked up a real estate guide. Just like in Billings she commented, “We have to see what this town has to offer! Let’s get a room and see where we should eat and then maybe go dancing again!” I sighed, “Tonight can we just relax after dinner?” She was open to the idea but I did not tell her what I had in mind until we were eating. I said I kind of missed the ritualistic sharing. She laughed and held my
hand, “I miss it too. Sure it’s a date! I warn you though…I may be thirstier than usual so you might have to sleep in tomorrow.”
When we returned to the room I quickly undressed and positioned myself. It felt strangely romantic as she the candles flickered and the pushed the needle deep into my arm. I wondered if I felt more like a slave or master. No matter though, I enjoyed everything; and way more than back in Hermiston since there was no longer any anticipation of Vincent ever coming home. In fact, during our session I felt a deeper closeness to Bethany than ever before. She undressed and lay down beside me. I watched intently as she prepared to insert the needle into her arm. Yet I asked, “May I?” She smiled and I took the needle. She positioned it over a vein and I pierced her! It felt awesome pushing it into her. She sighed and loosed the syringe to allow the tube to fill with her blood. I asked, “Can we let the glasses fill to the top?” She laughed, “I suppose we’ll both sleep in, huh?” I shrugged my shoulders, “Why not?” When the glasses were almost full she first removed the needle in her arm and then mine. She was about to stand up and I asked, “Where are you going?” She replied, “To get the wine bottle.” I shook my head, “Why?” As she watched I drank the undiluted contents down, put the empty glass on the night stand and fell onto my back and stretched out. I said, “I have a change of heart. I don’t want our secret ritual only on special occasions.” She gently rubbed my leg and drank the contents of her glass and then jumped up and asked, “Can we get dressed and get some ice cream?” I needed no convincing; I only had to make sure to wash the red stains from my lips before we went out.
The next couple of days we checked out a lot of different properties. It was wonderful – we found the prices more reasonable and we started marking the ones we were interested in. The day after though we went a little further out of town and found a really cute piece of property overlooking a stream and with a barn large enough for a couple of horses, and a house with two bedrooms. Bethany took my hand, “The extra room could be converted into an excellent nursery.” I loved the place as did Bethany. She asked the agent how far the owners would go down in price if we paid cash. The realtor gave a price and Bethany put her arm around my shoulder and said, “We could buy it and have enough left over for any emergencies.” I said I could start working so we could have a steady income, but she surprised me by stating, “How are you supposed to work once you are pregnant? Please don’t worry... I will take care of you.”
Her words were so touching. I looked over the property and the mountains far off in the distance as Bethany reminded me that she was going to take me to Glacier Park. It seemed so wonderful; a dream come true! Maybe it was originally someone else’s dream, but now it felt like it was mine as well…a dream I could feel deep into my inner self, maybe even my soul. Bethany told the realty agent we were definitely interested and that we would call him early the next day.
As we drove off Bethany seemed really excited. She was jumping in her seat like an excited child, “We can move in immediately, purchase some furniture and in the spring look for a couple of horses to buy. I so want to teach you how to ride. Of course that will depend on your condition at the time.” I asked, “Condition?” and she laughed and asked me to pull over. She held my hand in the way a man might propose to a woman and re-affirmed her desires, “It has been so long since I have had a little baby in my home. Why not throw caution to the wind and make sure we can start re-decorating that spare bedroom this winter?” I was taken back a bit. My first question to her was, in a somewhat joking manner, “Who do you propose the father should be?” She shrugged her shoulders. I suggested looking into artificial insemination but she rolled her eyes and looked out the window, “Now how much fun is that? Why not just do it the way women have done it since the days of Eve?”
I laughed and asked how she proposed I should go about it. She responded, “Just get a guy who seems healthy and without any diseases. In fact, try to find one with a pale line where his wedding ring should be. A married guy is safer and won’t start stalking you.” I responded, surprised to be sure, “So what? Find some guy for his services and give him a call whenever he’s needed again?” She sat back and grimaced, “No, probably not. But why not have some variety and get someone different for each child? It might be interesting to even have several kids each with totally different looks or races, don’t you think?”
I have to admit this conversation was really weird even for me. My ideal would be to have the same father, which artificial insemination could insure, but I said I might consider her suggestion – although I thought having a multi-ethnic family would really not be something I felt comfortable with. I guess I wanted my kids to look like me too much.
The idea we would soon have our own place started really sinking in as the day progressed. I looked around the town and thought to myself that this might very well be my home for the rest of my life. I could get used to that idea. It seemed peaceful and while it had all the conveniences one could want, it was in the middle of nowhere. A person could be themselves and probably not have to worry about anyone else’s opinions. The sacredness of the individual, I believed, reigned supreme in such a place.
All Bethany could talk about during dinner was planning for the home we had been to. She said we could sign all the papers, return to Boise for the money, and it would be ours. She said we could go up in the mountains anytime we wanted. Then she shifted back to children. She suggested, “Maybe in spring you should try to get pregnant; unless of course you and some lucky guy in this town just happen to get everything in motion sooner than that.” I responded, “Bethany, we just got here – it’s not like I even know anyone yet.” She laughed and said, “That will be no problem for someone as pretty as you.”
That evening it seemed we were both wired and could not sleep. I laid there actually feeling a level of contentment I had never really experienced before, like that of a child fully secure in the knowledge of their mother’s love and protection. Yet I also knew the woman beside me I had grown so fond of was not my real mother, no matter how much she filled the emotional void. I yearned to express my appreciation and, putting aside fear, and even taboo, I moved closer to her and told her, “I am so lucky to have you.” She smiled and touched my face, “I am the one blessed.” At that moment I took the initiative and softly kissed her lips.
I guess I did not know what I really wanted except that I knew there was another aspect of closeness I craved. She did not say anything, and did not move away either. I kissed her again and this time she responded by gently kissing me back. Neither of us said anything, we just held each other and continued our show of mutual affection. I felt a passion I had not experienced with any of the guys we had encountered on our journey. When one is with a stranger there is, of course, physical intimacy, but one cannot afford to be truly vulnerable in such an encounter. Here I felt I was safe. Yet even then, thoughts of my previous life came flowing back into my mind. Maybe that is why, semi-consciously, I moved my hand from resting on her hip to position myself under the loose night-shirt she was wearing. Without sensing any objections I then moved to a more...strategic location – wondering what her response would be. Yet without any interruption of our kissing she gently took my hand and directed it back to its original position. I waited a moment, still in a sense making out, yet on a level somewhere between how lovers might perform with each other and maybe…I did not know. All I did know was it was intimacy, but not to the point of heated passion yet. So that is when I tried to take it to the next level again.
She continued her resistance. She seemed to enjoy the affection but was unwilling to let her guard down. Yet, interestingly enough, we continued laying there in our sharing embrace. At this point I was in a seduction mode. I started to caress her back and as we kissed I moved ever-so-slightly down her back until…she again grabbed my hand gently and moved it to where I started. At that point she stopped for a moment and in a soothing, gentle voice whispered, “Don’t be disappointed with me – I
know we are bonded spiritually and not biologically, but I just can’t. Please understand, I am just not…I am not that way.” I was not sure what to say but she must have sensed my confusion especially as she initiated kissing me again.
We must have been together in our show of affection for over an hour. Then Bethany drew herself back and commented, “Can I say something? You just have to know….I really am enjoying this, even though it is totally different from anything I have done. But I just don’t want to…you know, do anything more than this. Do you understand?” I sheepishly responded, “I guess.” She continued, in an apologetic mode, “I am willing to show love in this way, but you have to promise me that you can be satisfied with this level, okay?” I suppose I was pouting as I said, “Well, okay, but I uh…” She interrupted, “You are hurt aren’t you? And it’s my fault.” She then jumped out of bed and started sobbing as she rushed to the bathroom. I laid there and told myself, “Oh great! Now I’ve done it.”
I was not really ashamed of anything that had occurred. In fact, a part of me was happy that some progress had been made in upping the stakes in our relationship. I was not happy she was crying, but I reasoned that while it might take a while, maybe even a few months, eventually our intimacy could evolve to higher levels – in time anything was possible. Yet I still got up and gently knocked on the door, “Bethany I’m sorry for any misunderstandings. Can you please come out?” When she opened the door I said, “Don’t worry Bethany, I am totally content with not going further than we did tonight. I really love you and don’t want to hurt you in any way.” She then started crying again and hugged me, “Please forgive me Jennifer. I love you too. You just have to understand.” I assured her I did. I then suggested, “Let’s go to bed! We have a busy day tomorrow.”
Deliverance from Evil Page 27
