The lawyer in me was awakened. All this shit was starting to make sense now. When I had initially seen the tape, I felt like I had failed my husband. I had assumed he would rather sleep with an animal than me. But after reading the second article, it wasn’t about his fucking me at all. It was his desire to be fucked instead; therefore, it was a high probability that he had homosexual tendencies. The question now became whether he had already acted on his probable tendencies.
Everything that had happened between us over the last few years played through my mind. I remembered the first time he had brought Justus home with him, how he even wanted Justus to sleep in the bedroom with us. Now, even the dog’s name had a different meaning. He named it Justus, almost telling on himself. Who better to experiment with than someone who couldn’t tell a soul?
I was just surprised that I hadn’t seen the signs of his curiosity. He never liked for me to go anywhere near his anus when we were having sex. If I played with his butt too long he would either move his body or my hands. I had never paid that any mind. In fact, I thought he was homophobic.
I needed to talk to someone about this shit, but it was still too embarrassing to mention. I still had to decide how I was going to deal with Randy. Would I confront him or just give him his precious boxes and tell him I didn’t have time to go through it? Oh fuck that. I was confronting his ass. I needed to know if he had ever done any of this shit while he was sleeping with me! I had to be sensible about this. If I went at him the wrong way, he wouldn’t tell me shit or he would lie and I’d never find out the truth.
I was going to have to seek an outside opinion. My instinct told me to talk to Kenya. She was street smart and I felt like I could trust her with this information. After all, this wasn’t my shame. Not anymore it wasn’t. I called her.
“Hey girl, what you doing?” I said when she picked up.
“Just chillin’. What’s up? Long time no here from.” She was being a smart ass.
“I’ve got something that I need to talk to you about. It’s very personal. If you’re not doing anything, could you come by my house tonight?”
“I don’t feel like doing anymore hair today.”
“No, like I said, it’s personal.”
“See ya in a few.”
I went back to the Internet to continue my research. I printed out the two articles that I had already read and continued to look at more. I was going to let Kenya see the tapes first, then the articles and see how she felt I should handle this.
CHAPTER 32
Felicia
“What in the hell?” Kenya said after watching the first tape.
“Wait, there is more.” I got up and switched tapes. This time I was looking at them with a critical eye. So far it was only about the dogs. Randy filmed each dog that he had purchased for breeding. The tape also showed the full clinic. I assumed he used this tape to market the clinic on the Internet. I put in the second tape and returned to my seat on the sofa.
Kenya watched the second tape with her mouth open the entire time. This tape had been filmed several months later, and it showed the birthing process. I saw Kenya turn away from the screen several times, but she didn’t say anything. Again, there was nothing unusual about the tape except for the blood and nasty shit that came along with the birthing process.
Kenya turned up her nose. “That is some nasty shit.”
“Tell me about it.” I was taking notes and documenting what was on each tape and the time frame it covered.
To her credit, Kenya did not ask any questions while she took it all in. On tape three, that’s when things started to pick up. This was the tape where Randy was talking to the dogs as they cleaned themselves.
“That sounds like … Randy,” Kenya said. “Who the hell is that?”
I did not answer.
“Sounds like a freak. I don’t know about this shit.”
I still didn’t say anything. Randy was not revealed on this tape. But his words were very clear.
Kenya looked at me. “Is this some kind of joke?”
I got up and went in the kitchen and fixed us both a drink. We both would need it for the next few tapes. I put our drinks and the bottle on a tray and carried it back to the living room. She took the drink from my hand, her eyes riveted to the screen.
Randy was very vocal on this tape. If I hadn’t spent the better part of my life living with and loving this man, this might have been funny. Instead my heart hurt. It was crystal clear to me that Randy was sick in the head. He had to be. Based on my research, Randy had been training his dogs to view him as a sexual creature. While dogs don’t view licking themselves as sexual, hearing encouraging words from their masters is. Instinctively, they seeked approval from their masters. I didn’t understand this the first time I watched the tape; but, thanks to Google, this was beginning to make sense to me albeit sick.
I put in the next tape. Kenya rose up off the sofa when she saw Randy lying on the floor naked with one of the dogs. “Oh shit! Girl, what the hell are we watching? What the fuck is Randy doing, girl?” She moved closer to the television.
I turned up the volume so she could hear him. Kenya put her hand over her mouth as she watched closely. I could feel her shock and disgust. I felt bile rise in my throat. I struggled to keep it together.
Randy rubbed the inside of the dog’s leg. The dog didn’t object to being touched.
Tearing her eyes away from the screen, Kenya practically screamed at me.“Randy is a nasty motherfucker?” She shook her head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I wish I were.”
She went back and sat on the sofa, her mouth gapping open. “Is this why you two got divorced?”
“No, I just found these yesterday.” I motioned to the tapes.
“Oh my God! What is he doing?”
“He’s training him.”
“To do what?”
“To see him as a sexual being. Finish watching the tape. We’ll talk when it’s over.”
She drained her glass and held it out for a refill. I had already drank mine, so I refilled both.
For the remainder of the tape, Randy fondled all of the dogs in the kennel. He stroked them and talked dirty to them. It was revolting. The tape lasted for another thirty minutes. Now I understood why Randy never came home. He had spent a lot of time with the dogs getting them use to his scent. When the tape was over, we both stared at the television in silence. She was absorbing it all in; I was gathering my nerves to play the final tape.
I put the tape in.
She stopped me before I could press Play. “Wait. I need a minute.”
“I know what you mean. The first time I saw it, I threw up. You don’t have to watch anymore if you don’t want to.”
“What’s this all about?”
“From what I found out on the Internet, this is a part of training the dogs to become intimate with humans.”
“What? You found this on the Net?”
“Yeah, after I saw the tape, I went online and printed out this material.” I showed her the stack of pages I’d printed.
“Girl, this shit is too wild. Is he planning on fucking the dogs?”
“No, he’s training the dogs to fuck him?” I said mater-of-factly.
“Shut up! You can’t be serious.” She was rocking her leg back and forth.
“How do you think I feel? It’s all here on that tape.” I pointed to the VCR. “It’s real graphic and they even get stuck together like dogs do.”
“Oh gross. I can’t watch that shit. I’m sorry.” She shook her head.
“I understand, but I have to. I’ll wait until later to watch this one. I showed this to you because I needed someone else’s opinion about it. For me it’s personal since I spent thirteen years of my life with this man. Thankfully, these tapes were made long after we stopped being intimate, but I need to speak to him about it to make sure he wasn’t doing this shit all along.”
“You are so calm. I would be over at his ho
use kicking his ass right about now.”
“Trust me, been there, almost did that, but this shit is deeper than that. According to what I’ve read, most men that engage in this activity do it because they are suppressing gay-inclinations.”
“Oh damn, I didn’t even think about that,” she said, shaking her head.
“Yeah, if he would allow a dog to fuck him, what’s stopping him from allowing a man to do it? I’ve got to find out if he’s gone there and if so, when?”
“Oh Lord. You don’t own a gun do you?” She was trying to make a joke of it but neither of us laughed.
“It’s a good thing that I don’t have one because killing him has crossed my mind several times.”
“Look, he ain’t worth that shit. This is serious but not worth jail time. We just have to take a logical approach to getting him to talk,” she said, still shaking her head.
“That’s why I called you. I knew you would help me step outside the box.”
She gave me a hug. A single tear slid down my face. That tear started a small flood that I could barely control.
“What if he gave me some shit they don’t have a cure for?” I said, wiping my eyes.
“Let’s not go there yet. When did you two stop being intimate?”
“Shortly after he got the kennel. He stopped coming home and spent all his time down there. I didn’t complain, because he was building his business. I had no idea he was going to use it for his perverted satisfaction.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. I would have thought the same thing if I were in your shoes. I mean … damn …Who would’ve thought—”
I pulled away from her and paced the floor, thinking. “So how do I approach him to get him to talk?”
“You’ve got to get him alone ’cause if you call him out in public, he is just going to lie to you. Shit, get him drunk. That’s the best truth serum there is.”
“That’s a good idea. You know what the sad part of this is?”
“What?”
“He’s been dropping by now trying to be my friend, showing up without calling as if he still has the right to just show up—especially since he saw me with Sherman.”
“That’s a classic move. You never realize what you’ve lost until you see someone else sporting ’em on their arm.”
“God must be watching over me big time because he came over here and wanted to collect these boxes and sort through them. I insisted on going through them first before handing them over in case they had any information pertaining to the kennel in them. If I hadn’t watched them, I would’ve never known his ass was sick in the head.”
“Shit, what a waste of man. It’s bad enough that women outnumber men eight to one and some of them are swinging to the other side; now we have to contend with this shit. What the hell is the world coming to?”
“It’s a sick world out there that’s for damn sure.”
“Those plastic dicks are starting to look better and better. At least you know where they’ve been.” She paused. “Jamie’s ass better work out or plastic it is.”
“Tell the truth and shame the devil. As long as you keep stock in batteries they won’t ever let you down. But that leads me to the second part of my problem: Sherman and I are just starting a relationship. I really like him. How do I keep this shit out of our relationship? Do I tell him about this?”
“Hell to the no. This is one of those things that you take to the grave with you regardless of how your relationship with him turns out.”
“But—”
“It ain’t no but. If you tell him, he will leave you quicker than a hoe chasing a C-note. Trust me, you don’t want him to know about this. That’s another reason why you should not antagonize Randy. If you get him mad, he might spill the beans for you. You definitely don’t want that shit to happen.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“You damn right I am.”
We spent the next few hours reviewing the research and plotting a plan of action.
* * *
I awoke the next morning with a plan to confront Randy on my own turf. This way if shit started to get ugly, I would have the home-field advantage. I had also taken the day off from work. My plan was to be a sweet as pie until I got the answers I needed from him and then beat the brakes off his ass for putting me through this shit. I dressed then called him to see when he would be available. “Hello, Randy.”
“Felicia? What a surprise. How are you?” his voice was cheerful.
“I took a mental health day today.”
“You took a day off from work? That’s unusual.”
I didn’t know whether this was a compliment to my work ethics or a slap in the face for not being available for him. I was probably being over sensitive, but it was taking all I had in me to be civil at this point. “I finished going through the boxes so you can come pick them up.”
I heard a rapid intake of breath coming from his end. Other than that, I could have heard a pin drop on a carpet—that’s how quite it was on his end. “Randy are you there?”
“Uh … yeah.”
“Oh, I thought we got disconnected.”
“No, I’m here.”
“Good. So when can you come get them? I’m trying to do some cleaning around the house and those boxes are just in my way.”
“Uh … I can come over right now, if that’s okay?”
“Sure. See you when you get here.” I hang up. I had expected to hear remorse or fear in his voice, but I heard neither of those attributes in his tone.
I had removed the tapes and the journals from the boxes. Instead I packed every single reminder that was left in the house of the thirteen years I had devoted to him. I gave him every picture, piece of jewelry, or lame-ass card that he’d ever given to me. After this meeting, I didn’t want to ever have to think about this dog-fucking bastard again unless I was dreaming about him getting run over by a fast-moving bus.
After reading his journals half the night, I was beyond hurt and humiliated. I was smoldering because a sick piece of Randy’s twisted mind blamed me for his walk on the wild side. According to him, I had never let him be the man. I had worn the pants in the house. Hell, what was I supposed to do, allow us to be put out on the street while he found himself? I hated it when people blame their own shortcomings on someone else. That was how I felt about Randy. I needed him to get his shit and get the hell out of my life. Sadly, all I wanted now was closure. The man that I was once attracted to was dead to me.
* * *
Randy must have driven to my house wearing gasoline drawers. He knocked once, paused for a beat and rapped two more times in quick succession. At this point, his knock sounded gay to me.
I pulled open the door before he could knock again. I just wanted to get this over with. “The boxes are in the corner.” I point to the corner without even meeting his eyes.
“Well, hello to you too.”
“We already did that over the phone.” I tried to keep the attitude out of my mouth, but it was riding hard in my head.
“My bad.”
He had carried four of the ten boxes out of the house before he began to get suspicious. “I didn’t realize that I had so much stuff in the office.”
“It accumulates fast, doesn’t it?” My comment neither confirmed nor denied that he was taking out more than I’d brought in. I waited until he had the last box in his hands before I waved the tapes in the air.
His shoulders slump forward. His eyes asking the questions his lips could not.
“Yes, I’ve seen them.” I sat down, but I didn’t invite him to do the same.
“I can explain.”
My arched eyebrow was the only indication I gave him to confirm I’d heard what he said.
He put the box down and closed the door. He studied his feet as if the answer was written on his toes.
“There is nothing you can say to me that will make this remotely acceptable to me.” I really wanted to punch him in the face.
“See the
re you go being judgmental. I knew I could not discuss this with you.”
“Judgmental? I am not the one being fucked in the ass by a dog. Oh, that’s right. I did allow you to fuck me in my ass, didn’t I?”
“This was not about you! You take everything I say and everything I do and turn it around to suit you.”
“Well, if this ain’t about me, then why did you blame me for even considering this?”
“You read my journals?” He looked up at me.
“You damn right I read the journals.”
“They were private.” There was a drastic change in his whole demeanor. He lost the attitude.
“You lost the right to privacy when you introduce something else into our marriage.”
“It started out as a business decision that would have netted more of a profit if I had been allowed to continue.”
He stood before me like a little kid who had his toys stolen from him instead of a grown-ass man caught in a perverted act.
“You need help.” I rolled my eyes, disgusted.
“If you would just hear me out, maybe you would understand.”
Against my better judgment, I decided to listen. I didn’t need his explanation; it was all spelled out in his journals. I was satisfied he had started this freaky shit after he and I stopped sleeping together.
I crossed my arms. “You got five minutes.”
“Zoophiles have been around for centuries. It is rapidly gaining popularity with the advent of the Internet. I found out about it while I was looking at the different kennels, trying to decide which dog to breed. Basically, I found out that the same dog I was going to breed and sell for five-hundred dollars would sell for fifteen hundred dollars if they were already trained to Zoo.”
“If this wasn’t so fucking sick, it would be funny. Hump, you teaching someone to fuck. That’s a laugh.”
DUBIOUS Page 21
