Mary's Pledge

by K T Morrison

  Now they were both hustling along the hallowed upper halls, and there was a growing tone of male singing picking up as they neared the end of the hall. Voices droned in union, maybe a dozen or more singing the Omega song. He quickened his step. Matt got ahead of him, rested his hand on the double doors that led into the library and stopped Jack there, putting a hand on his chest. He said, “Gotta be quiet, okay? Slip in the back...”

  Matt opened the door carefully and the vibrations of all those male voices bristled his hair and buzzed his cheeks with their power and camaraderie as he stepped through the narrow gap. The room was filled with singing Omega men wearing their purple robes and pointed hoods.

  He sidestepped along the edge of the wall, moving around to the right-hand side, and, as he did, he joined in singing the words of ceremonial song taught to him by his grandfather.

  Once a-gain in prideful union,

  In Omega we’ve collected,

  With our hearty true communion,

  We’ll honor what grows erected

  All our hearts are shining brighter,

  bursting with joy and pleasure,

  Brothers making burdens lighter,

  Blessing them with ample measure...

  He worked his way along the right, under the elaborate iron sconces that supported tall candelabras, all the wicks lit, moving below towering bookshelves—but all he could see was the purple satin backs of the fraternity brothers. When he came around the semicircle of brethren, he could see now what they had gathered around.

  Below the towering windows, and underneath the library’s huge chandelier, there were two dozen brothers in somber posture, arranged in crescents and facing the center of the library where there was usually a low table, and leather chairs and couches. It had all been pushed away and now there was a bed with a red swatch of satin fabric draped over it, hanging to the floor. Standing at the foot of that bed was his Mary looking absolutely stunning and beautiful and dressed up for the occasion. Legs in black stockings—and from his angle he could see the seams that ran up the backs—she wore a black pencil skirt and a tight, pink sweater with a white collared shirt underneath. She’d had her hair done, black tangled curls pulled back from her face and held with clips at the side of her head. She’d painted her beautiful lips in a deep burgundy. She was smiling, hands clasped together at her front with nervousness.

  He gasped, “Mary…”

  He peered over the shoulders and around the heads of the brothers ahead of him. Standing next to Mary was Omega’s Grand Unicorn, Royce Lansing, heir of the Lansing fortune, handsome, with lustrous blonde locks brushed back from his face. He wore robes too, hoodless, of course, because he was Trident. His robe had gold embroidery across the shoulders and down the chest, and around his neck was a thick gold chain suspending a gold pentagram the size of a dinner plate. His hands were clasped together in front of him as well, but where Mary was tense and anxious, Royce was relaxed and confident. Behind the bed and on either side were the other two members of the Trident. On the left, in similar gold-embroidered robe, sitting in a high-backed chair was Teague. A leopard-printed fez sat askew on his head and he wore black sunglasses; a marijuana cigarette was pinched between finger and thumb. He idly watched Mary’s back side with a smug expression. On the right was the hulking bearlike form of Moose Olufsen, linebacker on the college Dragons. Two hundred pounds of red satin muscle slumped drowsily in a high-back chair, eyes also hidden behind big black sunglasses.

  8

  Mary was saying, “...and, well, I guess that’s why he changed his mind...” but Jack hadn’t heard the question to which she responded.

  Royce nodded, watching her face, head cocked with affection and appreciation as if he’d been talking with a child.

  Now Royce turned to face the gathered brethren and with his hands down but facing outward in the pose of the religious, said, “And, brethren, what do we think of young Mary?”

  There was an appreciative harrumphing from under the two dozen hoods, then came the shuffled stomping of feet that would serve as applause while they wore regalia. Jack beat his feet as well to not stand out.

  Mary pursed her lips but smiled, practically beaming.

  Royce turned his attention back to her. “That is very noble, Mary.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So you love Jack Kingsway?”

  “I do,” she said. “With all my heart. I’ve told him countless times.”

  “Well then,” Royce said, half-turning to address the gathered brothers, “I would have to say Jack Kingsway is one lucky outlaw, wouldn’t you agree?”

  More harrumphing and chuckling, more shuffled feet to announce they agreed.

  “But now, Mary, you see a problem, don’t you? Your darling love, Jack, turned his back on the council. Are you sure you’re not against his wishes?”

  “No, sir, not at all,” she said. “Why, he only made that choice to preserve me, but I told him I’m game.”

  “And what did he think of that?”

  “I think he was a little sore. He has his pride.”

  “Omega-Men are proud men, Mary. His pride is admirable. But Jack made his choice... and it was to turn his back on the Brotherhood.”

  There was a grumbling from the gathered hooded men but Royce held up a single finger to tell them to hold their judgment.

  Mary said, “All Jack has ever wanted—and I’ve known him a long time—is to be an Omega-Man.”

  “It was offered, Mary. Your Jack comes from good standing despite his father’s absence from our charter. The Kingsways run deep in our brotherly blood.”

  “He’s not turning his back on the brotherhood, I swear to you. He was only standing up for my honor as a man should...”

  “Ah,” Royce said, finding the flaw in her logic. “Jack was choosing a woman over his brothers.”

  “No, he was choosing principle...”

  Royce nodded slowly as he weighed it. Jack wanted to interject, to stride forward and end this charade, take Mary’s hand and march her out of the mansion, but these were honest words he heard from her. She’d said similar but not so frank, and he’d been armored against listening because his back was up. Mary’s opinion and ardor were heartening...

  Royce stroked his cheeks, contemplating. “The legend of Kingsways hold true. You’re right, Mary, his initial chagrin is almost admirable, but only in the context of his current acquiescence.”

  “He sent me, alright,” she said.

  “Kingsway, Kingsway,” Royce said, still thinking, strolling in front of her with his hands behind his back. “But I’m surprised he’s not here.”

  “He’s busy,” she said, “and so am I, and my Jack said this must be done at once.”

  “The timing has to be right,” Royce said.

  Mary said, “The timing is right.”

  Now Royce gestured around the room, saying to her, “Well, you can see how eager we are to have a Kingsway again—you only just called and look at the attendance. You don’t mind an audience, do you, while we make this official?”

  “If this is the way you do it...”

  “It’s an initiation, then from there we can play it by ear.”

  “I told you I was game. And... and Jack is too, of course.”

  “That’s good to hear...”

  “So game,” Mary said now, “he’s offering my virginity...”

  Royce whipped his head around to her, eyes bugging out. Moose took off his sunglasses and blinked. Holt jolted forward and lost his fez. A gasping moan rushed through the gathered brothers and Jack’s own heart seized like rusted gears in the creaky cage of his tightening chest.

  Royce said, “He’s what?”

  Mary said, “My cherry. He said he made his point about principles and now to prove he’s an Omega man he’s giving up my cherry.”

  Royce staggered, looked like he wanted to find a seat, but he stayed on his feet. “Ch-cherry...?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But that
’s his. You’re his girl...”

  “He’s an Omega man, my cherry is his brothers’”

  “Oh, wow, man,” Holt exhaled and rubbed his forehead, leaning forward farther like he felt faint.

  “He said that? But you...? Don’t you want him to be your first?”

  “To celebrate our love? To commemorate... what? My virginity is Jack’s. And Jack will do with it what he will. I surrender to him completely. I honor his decision. If he chooses to make me a woman this way, I trust him completely. His father turned his back on Omega and Jack’s mother said if he’d stayed Omega he’d never’ve gone to prison for embezzlement. Nor worked at a bank in Iowa. Can’t you see now?: My Jack Kingsway is Omega to the core.”

  “Kingsway,” Royce breathed with admiration.

  The crowd felt it too. A wash of palpable disbelief wormed through the gathered men. Jack could feel them considering whether they were Omega enough in the face of Mary’s fictional representation of Jack Kingsway. No one was so Omega; Mary was spinning dreadful lies. And yet his bucks stayed on the floor.

  “You and Jack...” Royce stepped closer to her again, studying her face, “you’ve never...?”

  “No. Not even first base.”

  “How can he stand it?—look at you...”

  “He’s a man of discipline.”

  “I’ll say,” Moose said, leaning forward like Holt now and licking his lips.

  “And you don’t have desires?”

  Mary’s happy face fell to solemn now. She wavered, like she might not want to be truthful.

  She had Jack on pins and needles, wanting to hear what she thought, dying to know her desires; he leaned far forward, balancing on his toes.

  She shrugged, said, “Sometimes I wish he’d have made his move...”

  Jack fell forward but grabbed a brother for support. The man held him up, but turned back to the show, riveted.

  9

  Royce said, “You’d like it if Jack was a little more aggressive with you.”

  “Not a masher, but I can’t help wanting him. It’s only natural...”

  “It is natural,” he said. “Why don’t you have a seat on the edge of the bed...” He gestured with a hand. She looked behind her, sat down gracefully, knees together. Royce tucked his robes behind his legs and sat down beside her. He said, “Have you been in the backseat of a car with him before?”

  “I have.”

  “With other boys or just Jack?”

  “Other boys, too...”

  The hooded men emitted a ghostly Ooohhh sound at the prospect of a girl with low morals. Jack bristled, his fingers tingling.

  Mary smiled, then touched her blushing cheeks with her fingertips. She said, “Not like that.”

  “Just kissing?”

  “A little kissing, yes.”

  “Is Jack a good kisser?” Royce reached to touch her hair, to feel its softness in his hand. Jack stepped forward, pushing between two bigger brothers, two hands ahead of him pointed like shovels. He bustled through, and they tried to stop him but let him pass after a struggle. No one wanted to make a scene in the midst of this grand and glorious spectacle: they had an innocent girl on the bed after all and all signs pointed to something terrible happening...

  He pushed between two other brothers, one hand ahead of him, somebody holding his other elbow. “Stop it,” somebody whispered behind him. He tugged his sleeve out of the man’s grasp and tried to push between the two brothers again. Royce was still handling Mary’s hair and a red rage was roiling up inside him. He was going to break Royce’s arm.

  Mary said, “I only like kissing Jack.”

  “So he’s a good kisser?”

  Someone tugged at his arm again, but he stopped, waiting to hear.

  She smiled bashfully and said, “Jack is a good kisser.”

  Royce mimed for the gathered brothers now, turning to them, wiggling his eyebrows and manipulating an imaginary cigar like he was Groucho Marx, saying, “Does he get your motor running?”

  Now Mary fully blushed, covered her face for a moment with both hands but took them away, inhaled deep then said, “He sure does.”

  “But he doesn’t do anything about your motor, does he?” Royce asked, and now used the first two fingers of his right hand to begin walking from her knee up to the hem of her skirt with slow and deliberate steps. Mary watched Royce’s hand work its way higher up her leg. Jack’s anger returned, and his hands turned to fists.

  She said softly, “He leaves me in a terrible state.”

  “Gentleman Jack,” Royce said, and lifted his walking fingers off her legs and folded them in his lap. He was silent a moment watching bashful Mary before he said, “Your motor just needs a little oil. Did you want your motor oiled?”

  There was some husky chuckling from the hooded men. Mary said, “I guess it does at that.”

  Royce held out his hand palm up waiting for Mary to put hers in it. He said, “Are you frightened, Mary?”

  “No. Not frightened. I guess a little fearful...”

  Royce said, “You just let me know how you feel. I think we see the beginning signs of a noble Kappa woman.”

  She tilted her eyes up to look at Royce. “Do you think so?”

  Royce said, “The story of Jack and Mary is the grandest brotherly story I’ve heard told in my four years here. And I’ve read through some of the accounts in the charter. You two are a special case.”

  “Special why?”

  “Promise.” Now he reached up and rubbed a finger on her cheek and she tilted her chin downward. He said, “I see a lot of promise in young Mary McConnell.”

  “And Jack Kingsway,” she said.

  10

  Royce showed a victory sign to the gathered men, pointed it downward like the prongs of a fork on a dinner plate, setting them on Mary’s knee and walking those two fingers up her thigh again. He made soft clicking sound effects for her, watching her face the whole time. Mary watched his fingers. One of the brothers tittered, then stopped abruptly when someone elbowed him.

  Tick-tick-tick the feet-fingers said as Royce walked them up to touch the hem of her skirt. Now he rested the flat of his palm over the top of her thigh, his fingertips curling to touch the inside. Mary’s thighs shifted. She gave him better access. His hand slipped a little below her skirt, his thumb hidden underneath it.

  Royce said, “Show me how you kiss Jack.”

  Jack wedged two hands between the brothers in front of him, pried them apart and stepped between. One of them grabbed him roughly, and he whisked his arm away from the man and spun around. He hissed, “I’m Kingsway.” The man’s shocked eyes grew wide in the eyeholes of his purple hood, and he let Jack go.

  The man whispered, “You’re Kingsway?...”

  “Let me through,” he said.

  And when he went to pass between the final two brothers, the man who’d grabbed his arm now aided him, stepping forward and tapping one of the brothers on the shoulder. Both brothers turned, and the man whispered, “It’s the pledge. The Quad. It’s Kingsway,” nodding his hood sideways toward Jack.

  Without saying a thing, they separated and gave him pass. Jack strode between them and stood now at the front of the ring, facing the foot of the bed and close to the right-hand side. He’d intended to step through, march over and thump Royce in the mouth. He would grab Mary, lift her to her feet and take her back to McKenzie House and tell Ms. Haskell she needs to keep a better eye on her girls especially this devious little slut. Now he was frozen. He had the best seat in the house, and he was watching what was happening. Mary was going to show Royce what it was like to be kissed by Jack. He wanted to know what she thought...

  But Mary said, “I’d rather not.”

  Royce said, “Uh-oh. Have you changed your mind?” His hand slipped out from under her skirt.

  She said, “No. Not at all. But there’s nothing in the rules about kissing.”

  “You just don’t want to be kissed,” he said with a sly smile.

>   “I only kiss Jack,” she said.

  Royce said, “Jack and Mary, full of surprises,” he said. He slapped his hands on his knees, pleased for some reason. He said, “You want to keep a little something for your man…”

  “I do,” she said.

  Royce reached to her face and stroked her cheek again, said, “I like that.”

  Mary said, “But everything else—”

  “Is up for grabs?” Royce said and made clawed hands around her breasts without touching them. Mary smiled and didn’t back away, in fact she arched her back as if she wanted him to touch her breasts.

  Royce inched a little closer so their hips touched, his legs were apart now, and the opening of the robe showed the inside of one of his legs. It was bare from the knee down and he wore velvet house slippers. There was a good chance there was nothing on under the robe at all.

  Jack’s hands worked into fists again, his palms sweaty, his fingernails digging grooves into the clammy flesh. He wanted to stop this, but he wanted to see just a little more.

  Royce came in close as if they would kiss but he kept his mouth closed. He was watching Mary’s face, his eyes flicking up to look into her eyes. Mary moved her face closer as if she would kiss but also kept her mouth closed. Royce’s hand fell on her thigh and she opened her legs just enough to let his fingers pass but not enough for the men to see up her skirt.

  Now very close to Mary’s face, Royce said, “You and Jack like to make out in the back seat of cars?”

  She whispered, “We did. Back in Iowa.”

  “Ever do it in a tractor?”

  Mary smiled and bit her lower lip. “No, we’ve never kissed in a tractor. We don’t even have a tractor.”