Day 62 - Part 1
(Helen’s perspective)
“You know what your problem is, Helen?” Helene began.
I looked down at my watch and thought to myself, “Yeah, we have fifteen more minutes before class starts and you have to take your seat.” I shook my head.
“Your problem is —“
The door slammed open, cutting her off mid-sentence.
“Ooh, Baby, baby! What a price to pay…”
Everyone turned and looked. The class cringed in unison with every broken note. William stepped into the door beaming with a grin from ear to ear.
“What the hell?” Helene started. She looked him up and down and back again. “Ick!” She turned back to me. “Is he…” stopping short and looking at me suspiciously then scampered across the room to Harold, who was already scowling at William.
“But I can’t stop trying…” William continued. I wanted to run over and tell him to stop, but — also, he was alive! More alive than I’d seen him since dancing with him at the talent evaluation. I let it go. It was right for all of us to suffer a little bit after all the suffering he’d put in since this class started. And in spite of the audial assault, I was suddenly looking very forward to tonight’s date.
(William’s Perspective)
I pulled the door open and Verity walked through. We walked to the back of the pub to a small table near the stage.
“So — why here?” She asked.
“This is where Digger and I hang out. That stage,” I pointed to my left, “is where I got pantsed. Didn’t sing publicly again until talent-show day for Mr. Raoul. But, honestly - after last night, I realized something. I want you to know me. The whole me, and the honest me. I know you’re not sure about your feelings, but when you are sure, and whatever they turn out to be - I want that to be based on who I am. Not a front that I put on. This place - this place is me. Well, it’s me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Mondays and Wednesdays, I’m Coach William. You’ve already seen that side of me.”
She grinned, and this really felt like the right place. “You know,” she started, “You did a bit of singing today, too.”
“Was I that loud?”
“What?! Didn’t you notice the whole class staring at you?”
A bit of warmth climbed into my cheeks, “Um…I guess not? Was I bad?”
“Awful,” she laughed.
“Sometimes I don’t know how I feel about your brutal honesty.”
She gasped playfully, “You would want me to lie??”
“Never! Not with a name like Verity.”
It’s not something that I thought too much about before, but now that there is a chance for us. That Verity and I could become something — I let myself pay more attention to her. I always knew she was beautiful, but now enjoyed it. Her dimples when she smiled. The way her eyes lit up when she laughed. It was good to see her laugh. It had been such a rough time with Harold and everything that came with the class - but now we were seeing each other outside of class. Places where Harold had no sway and couldn’t interrupt. Then a hand slammed down on the table.
(Helen’s perspective)
It was a different William. It wasn’t necessarily confidence, but as we sat there, I could tell that he was freer than he had been. Looking back, I hadn’t noticed how restricted he had been, but seeing this side of him, it felt good. He was open with me - honest about where he was and what he wanted. His freedom made me long for my own. Whether I loved him or whether I didn’t, I did want a resolution one way or the other — but I also wanted to be sure which way I felt.
“I’m coach on Mondays and Wednesdays,” he finished.
“You know, you did do a bit of singing today as well.”
“What? You heard that?”
“Everyone did.”
“Was it bad?”
“Eh…it was noticeable.” A bit of red tinted his cheeks. “Good,” I thought, “I’m glad there still some of bashful William here. Still endearing.”
His face seemed to glaze over a little bit with a deep-in-thought feel to it. I gave him space to work it out in his mind, but jumped when a hand suddenly slammed to the table.
“Good on ya! You made it, mate! Now let’s get us all set up with some drinks!”
This was unexpected.
(William’s perspective)
Digger’s timing was awful as usual. I wasn’t expecting him for another thirty minutes. I mouthed a “sorry” to Verity, but she nodded and subtly raised her hand from the table letting me know it was okay.
“Whatcha all having? First round’s on me,” Digger volunteered. Okay, so maybe not too early at all. Now that he was here, I could use a drink.
“Gimme a list and I’ll head to the bar.”
I asked Verity, “Do you even drink?”
“Of course, I drink!”
“You want a wine or something?”
“I’ll take the something. Specifically, a pint of Guinness.”
Digger and I looked at each other and then over at Verity. She shrugged with a crooked grin and Digger was off to the bar.
“Guinness? That was a surprise.”
“Why? I get my Guinness genes from my dad.”
“Oh! Speaking of your dad - I know we’re just dating and this is probably for a more serious point in a relationship if we get there, but I would like to meet your dad someday.” Her eyes flashed - something - it was hard to interpret. Whatever it was, it was gone and she seemed fine.
“Yeah, you’ll probably meet him sometime.”
My heart dipped a little at the word “probably.” Is she not feeling this relationship as much as I thought she was? What was with the probably? Hopefully she’s hedging her bets, but I didn’t want to probe any further for either of our sakes.
Digger returned with our drinks and we settled in for a fun night.
Day 62 - Part 2
(Helen’s perspective)
Digger took our drink orders and I think they were both a little surprised at my Guinness selection. William actually thought I’d want a wine. Haha. Sometimes, but not in a place like this. When in Rome…
“So, Helen, did William tell you about his history here?”
“He did,” I pointed toward the stage. “He seemed to be particularly fond of that area right there.
“Oi, did my mate tell you about that. Haha. I wasn’t hear for the actual show, but I’ve heard the story plenty of times. Wish I coulda been here!”
“Okay, Digger,” I began. “William brought me here tonight to experience the real him. So spill it. What’s his story?”
I caught his quick glance at William and William’s nod of approval. I strapped in for what I expected to be a wild ride.
Running my finger around the rim of my third Guinness pint, Digger continued his story. “So Mom is better now, but I can’t say how much William’s help with the plane ticket means to me.” Turning to William, he said, “If you ever need anything, mate - and I mean that.”
Digger turned back to me and pointed his finger at my nose. “Now your turn! Tell the truth. Is William actually any good at this acting thing?”
(William’s perspective)
I always appreciated the way Digger told that story about his mom. He gets to affectionate and, honestly the idea of a massive rugby player bringing the whole bar to tears…well, I’ve actually seen it, so maybe not that far fetched. But he surprised us all when he turned to Verity and asked her if I could act. “Oh, no, Digger - we weren’t supposed to bring this up…”
I watched my hands and arms go white as all the blood rushed to my face.
“Well, to be honest,” Verity began, “William is very windy.”
“Oi - he he. You mean like noisy windy? I think I know where you’re goin..”
“What?” I interjected. “Noisy windy? No. I am quite quiet-windy. And not windy anyway.” I turned to Verity. “If you’ll recall, I was a resuscitating clown, not a wind at all. You wrote that scene.” I said with a sly grin.
“Oi! Did you do that scene? The two clowns and an elephant scene? That’s was a screamer. I loved it! How’d it go over in the class?”
“Actually,” I placed a comforting hand on Digger’s arm. “We saved that one for later. If you want, you and I can do it sometime.”
“Oh, no. You and I aren’t doing that. I didn’t wager on being in any acting class. That was you!”
“Wait. What? What do you mean wager?” Helen looked from me to Digger and back.
“Er…so,” I started. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not a serious actor. I mean I don’t know. Do you really think someone’s going to “discover” me at my age? Digger and I were just chatting a few months ago and came across an ad for this class on our phones. Digger was like, “Oi, mate, betcha can’t hack that for four months. In fact, I’ll put a hundred on it.”
“Hahaha!” She responded. “I could totally see that - and you getting suckered right in! Haha.”
I flashed her a confident smile, “Yeah, I got suckered in, but not on the day of the bet. I was clean ready to walk out of the class at the end of the first day and pay Digger his money. But somebody went and made me their partner.”
“Hehe. I supposed I did,” she responded with a coy grin.
(Helen’s perspective)
“Haha. Yeah, I suppose that’s my fault, but I saved you a hundred bucks. If you stick it out and win, I think you owe me fifty.”
“Fifty? That’s half!” He protested. “Why would you get half?”
“Well, mathematically speaking - if you were going to leave on Day 1 and I got you to stay through ninety days, I should get ninety times your cut. If you get fifty, then you’re going to owe me forty-five hundred dollars!”
His jaw went slack and his mouth hung slightly open. I think it might have been the first time I’d seen him speechless. Hung up or tripping over words, sure, but never actually speechless.
“Ok, Digger - one more story. Then I have to get to bed. Serious actors need their beauty sleep,” I foreshadowed my departure.
“Ok, Miss Helen - one more story. Oh! Did William ever tell you he was in a band?”
“NO! Do tell.”
“Well, they were called The Saltines. Willie played sax.”
(William’s perspective)
When Digger told Verity about my being the saxist in our band, her eyebrows went up, and I think I actually saw her ears perk up.
“Did you really play saxophone in a band?”
“Yeah. It was fun.”
“Why’d you quit?” She asked.
I put my head in my hands and shook my head.
“What. What happ— OH! Oh, ohhhh - no. NO! Did you…”
My head nodded slightly.
“Is that a ‘yes’? Did you really get pantsed in a band?? You really got pantsed twice?”
“College was crazy, okay?” I sighed, “and it was three times, but I try to leave it in the past.”
“You know,” Digger chimed in. “They have a storeroom in the back where the band kept their instruments. I think your saxophone’s still back there.”
“I”m sure it’s not, Digger -“ I hinted, but he didn’t take it.
“Oi, Mate! I’m sure it is. Let me go ask Robbie.”
He disappeared. While he was gone, I picked nervously at my beverage napkin shredding it to pieces.
“You okay?” Asked Verity. “I’m sure it’s not back there.”
Shortly after her words of comfort, Digger burst out from the back, carrying the old case. He plopped it down in front of me. My hesitant hand reached up with trembling fingers, I traced the edges, nostalgia overwhelming me. Flipping the latches, I opened it up. The overpowering scent of old punched me in the face, but I pulled it out. It was beautiful.
Verity reached across the table and put her hand on my arm. It felt nice. What she was telling me in her subtle way with touch, Digger was telling me loud and right in my ear, “Get up on that stage, mate!”
I looked from Digger to Verity, both encouraging me. I was emboldened. I set up the reed, put on the mouthpiece and bounced up to the stage. It was awful — for thirty seconds. Then, cobwebs and ghosts out, that saxophone started to sing. It was cathartic for so many reasons, but mostly because it was like having a friend back - someone I’d lost long ago. I played a couple of sets and returned to my seat.
(Helen’s perspective)
It was in his eyes. The longing for an old companion. When he opened the case, the joy on his face said he wouldn’t need much encouragement. I put my hand on his arm. He took the hint and then took the stage. Honestly, it was awful for a few minutes, but when he got the rust out, he was really good. It was a lot of fun listening to him. But it was getting late, so he put it away and we said goodnight to Digger.
We arrived back at my place shortly after.
“I really had a good time. I’m glad I got to see another side of you,” I told William.
“Well, I might be too, if it went in the right direction.”
I smiled, “It did.”
He blushed a little, but it was definitely a good blush.
(William’s perspective)
We got to Verity’s house and I stepped out of the car to walk her to her door. When I started heading that way she didn’t move. She looked at me and asked, “Do you want a kiss?”
Taken aback, I started. “I’m not going to be pushy, Verity. We’re going to go at it at your place…er…place…” forehead slap “PACE…at your pace…when you’re ready.”
She laughed, “Shh…It’s okay…and I’m ready now,” as she grabbed my shirt and pulled toward her. I wasn’t sure which of us moved, but we definitely got closer. Then her lips gently touched mine. It was a slow kiss. I felt her breath on my face as neither of us moved to break it off.
(Helen’s perspective)
I pulled his lips toward mine until they were together, and this time—with no one watching—I wanted it to linger. It did, and it was the truest thing I’d ever felt. The thought crept in — Yes, William, I do love you.
Day 63-Part 1
(William’s Perspective)
I strode toward class on the springiest gravel I’d ever felt. It felt liked I’d dropped fifty percent of my weight overnight and my legs felt more powerful than ever. Entering the room, the feeling was the same. I think they call it Cloud Nine. I don’t think I’d ever been here before, but Verity initiating a kiss at the end of last night’s date had me convinced we were headed in the same direction, even if I still didn’t know how she felt. With progress like this, I could be patient.
Nearing my seat, I noticed that Helen was humming. That wasn’t a habit she was prone to.
“What’s up?” I asked her. “Why the melody?”
“Huh? What melody?”
“You were just humming.”
“I don’t hum, William. You must have heard something else.”
“Hmm… sounded a bit like, Ooo Baby Baby to me, but I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” I grinned. And for the first time ever, I think I saw Verity blush ever so slightly.
“Haha. I don’t even know that song.”
“Fair enough. You got your soliloquy ready? I’m sure you’re going to do great!”
“Well, I don’t know. It’s awkward that we had to write it. I wasn’t sure what to say.”
“I’m sure you’re going to nail it!”
“I hope so! Is yours ready?”
“Yeah. I stuck with easy stuff—baseball metaphors!”
“Haha. Better than clown elephants!”
“True, but we made gold out of that one, eh? Well - you did. I mostly just went along for the ride.”
“You held your own,” she smiled sweetly as she put her hand on my arm. I smiled back, thinking back to the bar. I really did love this woman.
“You guys are gross,” interjected Helene. Neither of us had seen her standing nearby. “You’d think you’re relationship goes beyond the classroom. You aren’t dating, are you?”
(Helen’s perspective)
Today was the first day that felt right in a long time. The inner turmoil had faded. Last night had shown me a side of William that I hadn’t known, and the saxophone! The idea of liking smooth jazz never crossed my mind, but I was in the groove last night. His notes were fluid and he hit all the right ones. The idea of being in love with a shy, little-league-coach saxist made my stomach twist in just the right way. I was glad I was here earlier than he was. I wasn’t ready to tell him yet, and I didn’t want to let anything slip. I put the thoughts under wraps for now. No clues!
“Hey, what are you humming?” As he slid into his seat.
“Nothing. Humming? What? You’re mistaken.” Was I humming? Oh, I hope not!
“Fair enough. You ready for your soliloquy?” He pivoted.
“Eh, hope so. Guess we’ll see. How about you?”
“Yup. Baseball’s best quotes!” He said with more enthusiasm than I expected.
“Sounds right for you.”
“Yeah, I’m not worried about this one.”
“Better than balloon elephants,” I teased.
“I don’t know we were pretty gold at the end there. But it was you that saved it.” He said. I couldn’t help but smile, a smile which he returned.
“You guys are gross. You talk at each other like you’re in love or somethi—hold up. Are you two going out?”
I glanced quickly at William and then looked back at Helene. William looked away from both of us like he didn’t hear the question. I was about to speak when, “Never mind. I know a ‘yes’ when I see it.” Helene said as she walked over toward where Harold was seated. I watched as she sat and spilled the news to Harold. The look of surprise morphed to anger as he glared directly at William - then at me with a sneer - finally, to the door where his look changed everything!
(William’s perspective)
I watched Helene return to her owner’s side and shook my head. “That’s one weird dynamic!” I thought, then turned my attention back to my soliloquy script. I wanted to nail it for class today. I know I was only here on a bet, but now that the bet had gone from a cool hundred bucks to a chance at love — I wanted things to go as smoothly as possible. I was caught off guard by the voice behind me.
“Hello, class!”
I turned toward the door to see who it was. Standing there was a tall, gray-haired woman wearing pink glasses. She wore a suit jacket from my grandma’s closet and had a classic perm.
“I will be your instructor for the rest of this class. Raoul had er…family issues. My understanding is that today we’re doing soliloquies. Let’s get ourselves settled and we’ll get to them! Oh! One other thing, I’m going to need some help setting the order of these soliloquies. Raoul didn’t seem to have anything put together. Harold! I’d like you to come go over these with me.”
I turned to look at Helen who had gone pale. I gazed at Harold as he walked toward the stage to Ms. Candor. “Ok, Mr. Incident, we’ll play your game, but it’ll be a slow burn when we win.”
(Helen’s perspective)
When I heard “Hello, class!” I knew it belonged to Harold. His smile at the door said everything there was to say. Things were about to change in this class.
Harold and the new instructor, Ms. Candor plotted the order of the students, and we were shortly given our soliloquy order. Harold was first to go, followed directly by me and then William. The knot in my stomach told me to give the rest of the day a pass, and I moved to pack my stuff up to go.
“What are you doing?” William asked.
“I’m heading home. I don’t think I can do this. He’s obviously set this up. This won’t end well.”
William grabbed my hand. His encouragement rang true. I hesitated, but then responded, “You’re right. I’ll stay,” and a big grin crossed his face. I couldn’t help but smile a little too.
“Okay, then. Whatcha got for you soliloquy? What’s your topic?”
“I’m on about lighthouses. I think it’s pretty solid.”
(William’s perspective)
Verity closed her laptop and began to put it away.
“Hey, what’re doing?”
“I’m heading home. This is a setup and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”
“If you leave, that’ll be satisfaction enough for him. You can’t give in to him - he’ll never stop if he thinks he can own you like he does everything - and everyone else. He’s just some kid that’s always gotten what he wants. Stick to the script. It’ll be fine. What’s your topic?”
“I picked lighthouses. It seemed pretty safe.”
“You’re gonna nail this. Don’t even worry about him.”
(Helen’s perspective)
William assuaged my fears, and I watched in confidence as Harold took the stage. Helene carried some props to the stage and then he began.
“Ah, the beauty of the butterfly,” he began, trying to use my own words to destroy me.
I froze. A felt the cold enter my cheeks as the blood drained from my face.
“Everyone loves butterflies because they seem gentle, and they come in stunning colors. I have several examples here.”
He opened his props. They were full of dead butterflies on display behind glass doors. “I captured each of these.”
My heart hurt inside. I had envisioned myself as a butterfly - free and living life. But these weren’t free, and they weren’t alive. Every vile word Harold said seemed a dig at me. “Captured this one in…bought these from…caught them all.”
My head started to swirl. I couldn’t listen to another word when suddenly I couldn’t hear.
(William’s perspective)
I listened to Harold drone on in his own self-important way, but the impact I felt wasn’t from Harold’s words — it was Verity’s face. She had gone flush, and I wasn’t sure she could get through one more word. I reached over and put my hands over her ears, so that she couldn’t hear him. As if in gratitude, she gently put her hands on mine to keep them there.
Harold continued to drone for several more minutes about his love for butterflies and how he had always gotten what he wanted, including those butterflies. I felt the anger rise in my chest. I wanted to do to him what I’d done to his bike, but I know Verity wouldn’t have wanted that. I settled for keeping my hands over her ears until he finished.
Harold left the stage, and Ms. Candor called out, “Helen! You’re next!”
“Hey, can she have five minutes?” I called back.
“No.” Ms. Candor replied bluntly.
“William - I don’t think I can do it.” Verity said, voice trembling.
“Yes. You can,” I encouraged. “Listen to me. So Harold rambled on about butterflies he’s captured. So what? You’re the butterfly that he didn’t — that he can’t — catch! You’ve got this. Take a deep breath and go nail this. You are stronger than you think.
(Helen’s perspective)
William’s hands brought comfort to my ears, and not being able to hear Harold was a relief. I tried to breath and calm my nerves, but it wasn’t easy. When Harold walked off the stage, Ms. Candor called me up.
William asked for a short break, but she was not persuaded. I wasn’t sure I could do it. William placed a hand on my chin and looked me directly in the eyes. “You ARE the butterfly that got away. He’s mad about it, but he can’t change it. Go blow him out of the water.”
I took courage from his words, and I slowly stood, taking time to compose myself. I made my way to the stage and looked out at my classmates, preparing to wow them with lighthouses.
Day 63-Part 2
(William’s perspective)
I was concerned with whether or not Verity would make it to the stage. She did, but as she turned, I could see she had tears welling in her eyes. I gave her the most loving look I could, but felt helpless otherwise. I looked over to see Helene and Harold laughing together as though he had won the day.
Verity began, “He was right. Butterflies are beautiful. But not those butterflies. As rare as they are, and as beautiful as their wings may be, the true beauty in the butterfly is it’s freedom. If you take that way, you take away what they represent.”
“Ok,” I thought to myself. “Not going with lighthouses, but Helen is the best impromptu I know.”
“Sometimes butterflies can be captured - encased in glass shells to be ogled and pointed at, but sometimes, the wind is there to help. To lift the butterfly out of reach of the net. A most important lift, when the butterfly most needs it. Those butterflies — the ones that remain free — appreciate the wind and its gently touch. So on behalf of all of those butterflies that survive with the help of the wind to keep them free, I express our gratitude for that wind. Thank you.”
“Wow…” she nailed that, I thought. I looked back over at Harold and Helene. The laughing had stopped, and a satisfied grin crossed my face as I watched a relieved Verity descend from the stage - like a very free butterfly.
A clearly agitated Ms. Candor called me next.
(Helen’s perspective)
As I sat, I heard a very terse, “William! You’re next!” Clearly Ms. Candor wasn’t happy. William grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and whispered, “Awesome job. You rock!” And he headed to the stage.
“Hi, everyone! Some of you know this,” a quick look at Harold, “but for those who don’t, I coach little league. I’ve been doing it for several years, and I’ll be talking baseball today.”
It was soothing seeing William standing in front of the class with confidence and sticking to his original plan. Seemingly unflustered by the day’s events made me admire him even more. He was certainly turning out to be someone stoic who can be relied on.
“There are many types of players in baseball,” he continued, “but likely the most exciting player is that one that never misses. The one that just seemingly always hits it out of the park.” He looked at me and winked. I smiled.
“This is the one that steps to the plate and no matter what you throw at them — curveball, fastball, screwball,” he took a quick glance at our new instructor, “this player just makes contact, surely frustrating everyone that faces them.”
(William’s perspective)
Jogging to the stage, I threw a quick glance Harold and Helene’s way. “What a joke,” I thought. Harold was starting to have less impact on me. I couldn’t care less about his petty feelings, but I knew he had gotten to Verity. Good news for me is that Helen isn’t the only one that can pivot if needed. I was still going to do baseball, but it was going to hit harder now. I started with a discussion about the star players, but not to leave out the contrast, I moved then to the strugglers.
“The contrast to these players that can take everything you throw at them are the players that simply can’t. They’re the players that couldn’t buy a hit for any amount of money. Am I right?” I looked Harold square in the eyes and winked at him as he glared daggers at me.
“These guys are all swing and misses,” I continued, “In fact, I remember a team some time ago - not in little league or the majors - they were a minor league team. All of their players were terrible. No one could pitch. No one could hit. They were called The Heralds, and every other team looked forward to the time they could play them. It was an easy win, and just an embarrassment for The Heralds. I don’t know if they won any games that season.”
“Anyway, to sum up, remember — life is just like baseball. You can’t win them all…Unless you’re playing The Heralds. You can always beat the Heralds. Oh! And I just wanted to give a shoutout to Ms. Candor and Harold who put together the lineup for today’s game. It’s been a pleasure!”
(Helen’s perspective)
I couldn’t help it. Smiling ear-to-ear, I applauded William all the way off the stage.
“Hillary! You’re up!” The clearly angry call from Ms. Candor was shocking in it’s violence, but more shocking was the response.
“No. I will go next.”
Everyone turned to see Raoul walking from the back of the class toward the stage. I would have had to remove an ear to smile any bigger.
(William’s perspective)
The whole class watched as Raoul took the stage. No one breathed as we anticipated his words. A quick glance to Harold and Helene saw them sinking into their chairs as if attempting to disappear from view.
“Hello, class. Let me start with this. I am not your instructor any more. I have no technical right to be here, but I challenge anyone,” a quick look to Ms. Candor and then Harold, “to try to remove me. I’m here to explain to you why I no longer teach this class. It’s something that you have a right to know. I was fired from this position last night. There was no reason given, but I am certain that I know why. Your classmate, Harold, has money and he expects to get what he wants. Take Helene as an example. Her name is Maude. She was in one of my classes two years ago.”
Everyone turned to look at “Helene” but she was so low to the floor that she might actually have been. Under her desk.
“Harold tried to buy me, but I wasn’t for sale. So he went to someone who was and paid them to have me removed. There is nothing I can do about this, and I will not be back as your instructor. Ms.Candor will be here for the rest of the lessons. I do apologize that I cannot finish what I started with you, but it was only fair to share with you the truth. You all have my email if you would like to keep in touch.”
Raoul stepped down from the stage and headed toward the back of the class, when applause erupted. We knew Raoul was a hard teacher, but he had earned our respect. He turned back to nod is appreciation and then left. All eyes turned to Ms. Candor.
“I think we’ll end class here for today. We will continue tomorrow,” she proposed. “Harold, William, and Helen — I want you here an hour early tomorrow morning.”
Day 64
(William’s perspective)
Ms. Candor started with Helen in her office, leaving Harold and me seated outside the room.
“I always get what I want,” he said, staring blankly forward at the wall.
“You won’t win, Harold. You can’t beat me,” I looked over at him. The cold stare persisted.
“You didn’t hear me. I said I always get what I want.”
(Helen’s perspective)
Ms. Candor waved a hand motioning for me to sit.
“I want you to understand something,” she started, wasting no time, but keeping her eyes focused down at her desk. “Harold always gets what he wants. There was a time when he wanted me, and I resisted,” a heavy sigh.
I wasn’t sure if this was a threat or a warning, but instinctively, I pressed back in the chair, putting as much space between us as possible.
“I wasn’t unlike you. I thought Harold would go away. That he’d tire of me…”
(William’s perspective)
“I’m persistent William. Sometimes by the time I get what I want it’s a little broken, but nonetheless, it’s mine.”
I hadn’t conceived of the depravity of Harold’s mind before this. It went beyond petty jealousy to something closer to insanity.
“You’ll never get me.” I stated defiantly.
(Helen’s perspective)
“The police couldn’t stop him - courts couldn’t stop him - and after awhile they stopped trying. Finally, I gave in. I thought maybe if I gave in, he would have his fun and be finished. It seemed worth the peace. But here I am today - teaching this class because it’s what he wanted.”
(William’s perspective)
“Clearly you don’t understand,” he responded with the continued cold gaze. “I don’t want you - I want Helen.”
"William, do you know what it's like to grow up with a drunken father and a mother who caters to his every whim? To be beaten nightly as a bedtime routine? Watching your mom want to defend you but wilt under your father's power?"
"No...Harold - I had no idea..."
"Neither do I. I was raised by two parents that worshipped me. Gave me everything I ever wanted. You know why they did that? Because I deserve everything I want. That's why I'm not just going to get Helen. I'm going to consume her. She will flow through the blood in my veins. Why? Because I deserve it."
A cold dread settled deep in my stomach, far more unsettling than any threat he'd ever uttered before. This wasn't just a challenge; it was a sickness.
(Helen’s perspective)
Ms. Candor’s defeated eyes looked up from her desk to mine. “Just give in Helen. It won’t give you permanent peace, but glimpses. Moments. Sometimes even months before you hear from him. The peace I do get it worth the times I don’t. I know that in the end, it’s been better for me to obey than to resist.”
Ice climbed my spine as I stood to leave. “Thanks, Ms. Candor for your…er candor. I am not giving in to Harold - not today - not ever. I’ll see you in class.”
“You’re making a mistake…” her voice trailed off as I left her office.
(William’s perspective)
“Everyone loses, sometimes Harold - even you. It’s going to be a rude awakening when you realize that - but you won’t be breaking me or Verity. You’ll just be the joke we laugh at everyone once in awhile when we remember you after this class.”
As Helen stepped out of Ms. Candor’s office, her knee gave way and she stumbled slightly. I stood and she grabbed my arm, steadying herself.
“William - will you come in here please?” Came the call from the office. Harold with a smirk on his face as he thought of his time alone with Helen.
“No. I don’t think I will. I’ll just see you in class later.” I said as I began walking Helen toward the main floor of the warehouse.
“William! In my office now, or there will be consequences!” Ms. Candor screamed. I paused.
“Ma’am I’m 39. Feel free to throw your consequences at me. I’ll let you know later if I intend to abide by them.” Helen and I walked off, leaving Harold’s desire unsatisfied - for now.