Naked Tao (6 page)

Eric led me back to his first floor office. Kinsey was standing at the window with her back to the door. She turned to face us when we entered the room. Her face was unreadable.  I figured they were going to give me a hard time for destroying the bedroom door and disrupting their party. 

“Something must have happened to you that made you so uptight about sex,” said Kinsey. “You’ll never have a healthy relationship until you face it. What was it?” 

Her question was unexpected. It scared me. There’s not much that scares me, but I was damn scared. Something bad was about to happen.  I wanted to run…get out of this place…escape the party and Kinsey’s question, but I was tired of feeling this way. 

There are pivotal moments when we have a shot at something different…something better for ourselves. This was one of those moments. I think Kinsey sensed it, because she held me there with nothing but her compassion. That’s what friends do for each other. We hold each other accountable when it really matters. 

What happened so long ago had become a shadow program running in the background of my operating system. The implications of this startling realization were scary. I didn’t want this virus running amok in my life any more.

Standing there with Kinsey in the middle of her crazy sex party, I realized it was time to talk about my past and the subject of my ongoing nightmares. Since I wasn’t exactly sure where to begin, I pictured what happened in my mind and told it to Kinsey as best I could. 

“The Tao is wild and unruly.” - Ch’ing
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It was a wild and unpredictable chase. Our prey suddenly changed directions and landed within reach. I stretched my tiny hand toward its powdery wings, but jerked to a stop when a voice pleaded, “Don’t scare it away, Grant.” 

We chased it around the yard for the better part of an hour, giggling each time we had it cornered and then shouting when it made its escape. We were finally close enough to claim our victory and now she didn’t want me to touch it. Geez! 

I wanted to touch it, but I didn’t want to disappoint her either. Not sure what to do, I shuffled my feet in the fresh cut grass. I could feel the blades between my toes, but not much on soles hardened from a summer of running barefoot throughout the neighborhood. 

She gently squeezed my hand. I looked up from my grass stained feet and into her innocent eyes. They shifted between green and blue like a tropical sea. She was about my height, a little over three feet. She wore white shorts, a little pink top, and no shoes. Her dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail that dangled in soft curves to the middle of her back. 

Her olive skin was tanned from the summer sun. She once told me the spattering of freckles on her nose and shoulders were a gift from her daddy. She was adorable and I was hopelessly in love with her. 

Standing in a little patch of sun next to the creek, we watched the butterfly move from the flower to a cattail. Smiling she changed the subject. “Boys and girls are different,” she said. 

“Huh..,” was all I said. 

Her eyes were big and innocent. “I saw a baby getting his stinky diaper changed,” she said crinkling her nose. “He was different.” 

I had no idea what she was talking about. “Different,” I said. 

She pointed at the cattail and said, “Boy.” 

I said nothing, so she pointed at the flower and said, “Girl.” 

She waited expectantly. I still didn’t know what she was talking about. 

“Oh silly, let me show you,” she said. 

Grabbing the elastic waist band, she yanked her shorts to her ankles and stepped out of them. Her little white panties followed. 

“Now your turn,” she coaxed. 

I shrugged and pulled my shorts down. She giggled and pointed. I looked down and didn’t see anything unusual. She pointed at herself. At first I didn’t see anything odd, but then it hit me. Where was her thingy? 

I was about to ask her about the puffy slit where her thingy should dangle when she said, “It’s growing. What’s wrong with it?” 

“I don’t know,” I answered. “It just does that sometimes.” 

A dark shadow loomed over us and something hard smacked me across the mouth, knocking me to the ground. I landed on a sharp stone and pain shot through my tail bone. Stars danced in front me as I gasped to catch a breath. 

Two fat women loomed above me and then began moving together until there was just one. When I could finally breathe again, I gingerly touched my throbbing lip. I tasted something salty and saw blood on my finger. 

The fat woman’s lip was curled upward exposing yellow teeth. Her face got bigger and I felt a weight on my legs, pinning them to the ground. She planted her hands next to my ears. 

I didn’t like the look in her eyes, so I focused on a big vein throbbing in her neck. It made me think of the snake with big sharp teeth I saw on television the night before. I was pretty sure she had one crawling inside of her, and it scared me. When she opened her mouth I expected it to crawl out and bite me. Instead, the pungent scent of garlic blasted me. I crinkled my nose. Yuck, I hate garlic. 

“You little pervert,” hissed the fat woman. 

I was confused and scared but managed to mumble, “What’s a pervert?” 

She grabbed my ear and twisted it hard. “A nasty boy who can’t keep his pants on,” she said. “Outside even, where everyone can see your nakedness…you’re such a perverted little flasher. What’s wrong with you, boy? Didn’t your mother teach you anything?” 

My ear hurt badly from the twisting she gave it and I desperately wanted the safety of my mother’s arms. “I think I hear my mother calling,” I cried. 

“So the little pervert is a liar as well,” she said as she inched her face closer. 

The movement shifted more weight to my legs and my knees were starting to hurt. I tried to squirm free but couldn’t budge her. A wave of hopelessness washed over me. 

“What do you want,” I asked. 

“I’m going to make certain you never expose yourself to another innocent little girl,” she hissed. 

She even sounded like a snake. I shuddered. 

“We didn’t…we didn’t do nothing,” I said. 

“Nothing…nothing, he says,” she snarled. “You think molesting my little girl is nothing. You’re a pervert like the rest of them.” 

I didn’t know anything about molesting, but it didn’t sound good. Maybe she was talking about the butterfly. 

“We…we didn’t…didn’t hurt the butterfly,” I stammered. 

It didn’t seem possible, but her face screwed up into a tighter ball of anger. 

“You…you insolent little punk,” she sputtered spraying a little garlic flavored spittle on my face. 

I moved my hand to wipe the nasty stuff from my face, but she grabbed my wrist and slammed it back to the ground. 

“How dare you raise a hand to me,” she screamed. “I’m going to beat the devil out of you.” 

She raised a menacing hand to her ear and poised it for the first blow. 

“Beat me,” I said in voice that was barely audible. 

Something warm and wet drizzled to the small of my back. The sour smell of pee was strong and I was afraid she would get even angrier if it got on her clothes. 

“No…no please,” I begged. “I didn’t do nothing.” 

A small hand grasped the fat’s woman’s fist and I heard the girl’s voice plead, “Mama…mama, please don’t hurt him.” 

Her mother’s head whipped in the girl’s direction. “How dare you interfere with me,” the fat woman said. “So you want to protect this little pervert. Then you’ll get the first beating.” 

I was relieved when she climbed off of me, but it was short lived as I watched her snap a limb from a tree and strip its branches. She quickly ran her finger tips along its length and then shifted from the switch to me. Slowly they traveled downward and stopped at my thingy. The tip of her tongue moistened her lips. I didn’t like the way she looked at me at all and reached for my pants, but they weren’t at my ankles. Abruptly, she pulled her eyes from me and turned to the girl. 

“Someday you will thank me for this,” she said. Giving the girl a cruel smile, she added, “I’ll beat the wickedness out you yet, you little slut.” 

With that, she tore into my Ginny with a vengeance. It was brutal. Ginny’s screams pierced the quiet little neighborhood. The thing that scared me the most was the way her mother’s smile got a little bigger with each blow. 

I wanted to make her stop, but I couldn’t move. I wanted to protect Ginny, but I was afraid the woman would turn the switch on me. 

“You’ll not speak to that nasty little boy again,” her mother hissed. “Do you understand me?” 

“Yes mama,” sobbed the girl. “I promise.” 

Holding my knees, I rocked back and forth. “Please stop,” I pleaded. 

My stomach was feeling hot and then I threw up all over myself. As I was wiping the vomit from my chin, the beating stopped, but not before angry red welts swelled across Ginny’s backside. 

Her mother was breathing heavy from the exertion. There was an odd glow to her face, as if she had enjoyed herself. When she finally caught her breath, she said to Ginny, “Get your pants and go to your room while I deal with this evil half-breed.” 

“Yes, mama,” said Ginny. 

“When I’m finished here, I better find you on your knees in prayer,” said her mother. “Say ten Hail Mary’s and ten Our Father’s as your penance. When you’re done with that, beg God for forgiveness, and pray he does not to send you straight to hell for your sins.” 

Ginny nodded and then limped in the direction of her house. She only stopped and looked back once. Her eyes met mine. They looked so sad before she turned and disappeared into the house. 

Terror filled me as I turned back to her mother. She was eying me curiously. She seemed to soften for a brief moment, but it passed. Taking a menacing step toward me, she raised the switch. I shrank from her and tried to make myself as small as I could. Closing my eyes, I waited for the first blow.  Instead of the swish of the switch, I actually did hear my mother calling me for dinner. 

Relieved that I hopefully wouldn’t get the beating after all, I jumped up to run home, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me close and hissed. 

“You think you’ve escaped your punishment,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll get much worse from your mother after I tell her about the terrible things you did today.” 

I pulled away, hoping the ordeal was over. It wasn’t and my hope evaporated in an instant. The image of her beating Ginny flashed through my mind, and then was replaced with a picture of my mom standing over me with a switch. I felt a chill run up my spine and shuddered. 

“Please don’t tell my mother,” I pleaded. 

“The boy’s afraid of his mother,” she said. “That’s good. I can use that.” 

She thought for a moment and then said, “If you don’t want your mother to know she has a little pervert for a son, then you’ll do exactly what I tell you. Is that understood?” 

I didn’t answer right away, so she squeezed my arm and glared at me. I wanted to tell her she was hurting me, but knew it would please her. Instead, I nodded my head. 

“First, you must promise you will never expose yourself to another girl again,” she said. 

I wasn’t sure what expose meant, but I was willing to agree to anything to escape. So, I nodded my head and said, “I promise.” 

“Second, if you ever come near my daughter again, I’ll make sure your mother gives you the beating of your life,” she said. 

“I won’t,” I promised. 

“May God have mercy on your miserable soul,” she said. 

With that she finally released me and I fled for home. I should have been happy I escaped without a beating, but I wasn’t. I kept my promise, and had never spoken to Ginny again…until the party. 

“…to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another…" - Declaration of Independence

This terrible childhood experience had haunted me for many years, but I had never shared it with anyone, not even Ch’ing. In some weird way I think the open atmosphere of the party made it possible for me to open up to Kinsey and I found myself looking to her for answers. It was comforting to see her hard expression soften a little. 

“This explains a lot,” said Kinsey. “You do know, Grant, that you can’t spend your life victimized by the past. Especially something that happened when you were five years old. Ginny’s mom caught the two of you playing a game of show me yours, I’ll show you mine. Big deal…it’s normal childhood curiosity. It doesn’t make you a pervert. Her mother is obviously the sick one.” 

I had never considered that her mother might be wrong. She had scared the shit out of me. I never wanted to feel that terror again, so I did exactly what she told me to do and hoped our paths never crossed again. I stayed away from Ginny as I was told. Public nudity was out of the question. In fact, my feelings about nudity were so intense, I even felt uncomfortable when showering. I’m pretty sure it spilled over into my sex life. Well actually, I had no sex life. Sex was out of the question prior to my marriage and, unfortunately, I think it may have ruined that as well. 

“I guess she made me believe that’s how all women think,” I answered. 

“Grant, you don’t know anything about women,” said Kinsey. 

“I know they can’t be trusted,” I snapped. 

“Really Grant…and why is that?” 

“My wife for one…she cheated on me with another woman,” I said. 

“You married a lesbian and now you’re shocked it didn’t work out,” said Kinsey. “Have you considered for a moment that embracing her sexual orientation is the most honest thing she could have done, or are you too caught up in your own drama as usual?” 

She may have had a point. “I guess at some level I knew she was gay,” I said. “There was never much chemistry between us, and the truth is I liked it that way. There was no pressure to perform.” 

Kinsey nodded and looked thoughtful. “I asked you earlier why you were searching the house for Ginny,” said Kinsey. “You never answered my question. I’m still waiting.” 

“What does this have to do with Ginny?” I asked. 

“You really don’t know, do you,” asked Kinsey. 

“Know what?” 

“She has always been in love with you,” said Kinsey. “Judging by the way you’ve been acting, you have always been in love with her too.” 

It was too good to be true. “If she loves me, then why couldn’t I find her earlier?” 

Kinsey made a disgusted sound. “Ginny was on the front porch making a telephone call.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?” 

“Because I didn’t know earlier…one of the smokers saw her,” answered Kinsey. “You have some serious trust issues. If you don’t learn to trust, then you will never have the love you so desperately want.” 

“Oh really,” I said. “You’re throwing a swinger party and you want to lecture me about trust.” 

“You have some serious hang-ups,” said Kinsey. “If you can’t relax and open up you will never have a healthy sex life.” 

“Seriously Kinsey, you call this healthy,” I said. “You guys are into some really freaky stuff. What do any of these people here tonight know about being faithful?” 

“These people are not like your wife, Cynthia,” said Kinsey. “They are not lying to each other and they are not cheaters. You only cheat when you break the rules established for the relationship. Couples are free to make their own rules. Unfortunately, most people are afraid to discuss what they really want from the relationship, so they accept by default what they believe to be society’s rules. That never works out for them because it isn’t what they really want. Those people eventually cheat on each other. All of these people here tonight have agreed with their spouses to do this together. They are not breaking any rules. They are not cheating on each other.” 

She could be right. Cynthia and I had never discussed what we wanted or expected from each other. I just assumed it would be heterosexual monogamy. Cynthia was obviously attracted to women and eventually she had acted on it behind my back. If I had listened to her, then maybe we would have openly explored it together. Instead, I was left feeling betrayed and hurt. 

“So you don’t think Ginny rejected me tonight for someone else,” I asked. 

“There is no one else in her eyes,” said Kinsey. “I don’t know why she feels that way about you. She has always worshiped you and you have always ignored her. You have always chosen the likes of Cindy, the cheerleader, and Cynthia, the lesbian, over her. What the hell were you thinking?” 

“I did what I was told and always kept my distance from her,” I said. “I wish I had figured out sooner that her mom is insane and that Ginny still has feelings for me.” 

“Ginny has been trying to tell you for years, but you always refused to see it,” said Kinsey. “Open your eyes, Grant.” 

Some part of me knew all of this back then, but I was too terrified of her mother to do anything about it. Ignoring these feelings had been a bad strategy. I now saw that the cost had been huge. 

As for Ginny, her light dimmed after the childhood incident with her mother. I watched from a distance as she gradually declined and withdrew into books. I sensed her constant pain and had the power to do something about it. I could have helped her, but I didn’t. I was too busy being afraid and trying to cope with my own dysfunctional relationships. I wish now that I had faced my fears. So much pain could have been avoided. I had failed her. 

“Why are you just now telling me this?” I asked. 

“When we were teenagers, I made a solemn vow to Ginny that I would keep this secret,” said Kinsey, “but you kept making a fool of yourself and it’s too painful to watch.” 

I was already feeling pretty lame, but Kinsey still had plenty more to say. 

“One more thing, you need to convince her that she is the one you choose…that you desire her above all others,” said Kinsey. “That shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, here you are at a sex party, all these women want you, and you spend the night rushing around looking for Ginny.  Seriously, you kicked our bedroom door in because you thought she was in there and someone was hurting her. It’s time for you to be honest with Ginny, and with yourself, about how you feel about her, Grant.” 

It was suddenly so clear, of course I want to choose Ginny, but my wounds were deep. I felt I didn’t deserve her. My behavior toward her had not been admirable or lovable. I was also very afraid of rejection…afraid I’d get hurt. “Again, what if she doesn’t choose me,” I asked.

“Think about it, Grant,” said Kinsey. “If you allow her to consider all the options, see as many guys as she wants, and she chooses you, then you know you’re the one for her. That takes confidence…it takes guts, but the reward is huge…the relationship home run…you have a real shot at something that might last.” 

“You want me to show her that I desire her above all others, but let her be with whoever she wants?” I asked. “I’m confused. Those two things seem inconsistent to me.” 

Kinsey winked at me and said, “You’re a smart guy. You’ll figure it out. Let’s rejoin the party.” 

I have to admit I wanted to talk about it a lot more, but Kinsey was done talking. Instead, I staked a claim at the dining room table, where I sat with a bottle of Patron hoping Ginny would stop by and have a drink with me. I know it was kind of lame, but searching the house for her hadn’t worked out too well. 

Plenty of other folks stopped by the table to chat with me and share their tequila stories. Most of the stories began with, “I don’t drink tequila because…and ended with I’ll never do that again.”  For some reason, they never refused the shot of the Patron I offered while I listened to their stories. 

Unfortunately, Ginny was not one of them. I didn’t see any sign of her for the rest of the evening. Clearly she left the party, and despite the advice Kinsey gave earlier, I wasn’t too happy about it. I was trying to make sense of my feelings, when guests began coming up from the basement looking spent, but happy. Others wandered in from the back yard and the bedrooms. 

It wasn’t long before all of the party goers had gathered to share a post coital meal. Most of the women glowed and the guys just looked done. The monk was the last one to emerge and he still looked like he could go a few more rounds. His slightly disappointed demeanor shifted when he saw the feast. 

Like a little kid on Christmas morning, he clapped his hands with glee and said in a high pitched voice, “Oh yes, let us all break bread together.” 

Eric looked at him like he was a cartoon character. Kinsey rolled her eyes. Mr. Hairless snickered. More than a few of the women appeared awestruck. I decided to cut him some slack since he was after all a monk. He was completely oblivious. Instead, he busied himself piling food high on his plate. 

Schoolgirl plopped down in the seat next to me. In contrast to the monk’s feast, she was nibbling on a small spinach salad. She saw me staring at her food and said with a sheepish grin, “A girl’s got to work hard to stay this small.” 

Her presence reminded me of my embarrassing behavior upstairs, so I smiled weakly and kept my eyes on the plate Kinsey had sat in front of me earlier. Schoolgirl picked up her fork and slowly ate her salad. I pushed my food around, but ate very little. Everyone else was chatting away as they enjoyed their meal. 

I felt a hand on my thigh. Schoolgirl ran her finger tips up the inside of my leg. 

She leaned over and whispered, “Did you find your wife?” 

There was a moment of confusion before I realized she was asking about Ginny and not Cynthia. I winced and kept my eyes glued to the plate of food. I just wanted Schoolgirl to leave me alone with my thoughts, painful though they were. Hoping to put an end to the conversation, I shook my head and continued the food vigil. 

Kinsey must have had something on her mind. I could tell she was having a hard time focusing on the spirited conversation around the table. She snapped when a bear of a guy mentioned someone was watching the house. 

“Watching the house,” she barked at Mr. Bear. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” 

The poor guy seemed to shrink to half his true size. He opened his mouth and then closed it abruptly. His wife came to his rescue. 

“We were running late tonight,” said a petite brunette with smeared mascara that made her look a little like Alice Cooper. “Our baby sitter bailed on us and it took a while to find a replacement. Anyway, back to the point. We noticed a parked car when we arrived. The only reason I paid any attention to it was the glint of a glowing cigarette inside. I thought it odd, the driver wasn’t smoking outside. Throughout the night we took a couple of smoke breaks and he was still out there.” 

“Did you get a look at him?” asked Kinsey. 

They shook their heads in unison. “No, all we saw was hair pulled back into a pony tail,” said Alice. “We’re not even sure whether it was a man or woman.” 

“What kind of car was it,” I asked. 

Mr. Bear finally found his tongue and answered, “It was a white mid-size, but I can’t say for sure the make and model.” 

“Do you think it was an unmarked police car?” asked Eric. 

“I don’t think so,” said Mr. Bear. “It wasn’t a Ford. I think maybe a Camry.” 

Eric cut his eyes toward me and nodded toward his office. He and Kinsey left the table and I followed them out of the room. Once the door closed behind us I said, “I saw Ginny talking to a hippie with a blond ponytail. It was the last time I saw her.” 

“I don’t know anyone like that,” said Eric. He turned to Kinsey and asked, “What about you babe?” 

Kinsey shook her head. 

“Is it normal to have one of your parties staked out?”  I asked. 

“No, it has never happened before,” answered Eric. 

“What do you think it’s about?” I asked. 

He inhaled deeply and said, “We need to talk more about what happened at your office today, Grant.” 

I told him as much as I could about winning the case for Pathogen and then getting fired, but the details of the mysterious package were confidential. I wasn’t sure how much of that I should be talking about. When I started telling him about finding John hanging in his office, he became very agitated and interrupted me. 

“Ah…hell,” he said. “The police think you killed John Biggs.” 

“John committed suicide,” I said. 

“I got a call from a friend on the force,” said Eric. “He’s the homicide detective assigned to the John’s death. He wants to talk to you immediately.” 

“Why do they want to question me about a suicide?” I asked. 

“Homicide, Grant…he’s a homicide detective,” said Eric. “Again, they’re investigating a murder.” 

I was stunned. John was a jerk today, but I sure wouldn’t have killed him over it. “Do they really think John was murdered?” I asked. 

“There’s a witness,” said Eric.