Pam (11 page)

Mayb
e it was too much, calling the contact
number for Justin Perkins, but I didn’t want to take a
chance
. I’d try again. I had to. I had a bad feeling about it.

I knew about his mother, what she was like. The dark side, the tortu
red
side. The side of her I always liked and wanted to be. Then again,
I
always was the type of person she wanted to be.

Perhaps it was because I embraced who I was as a
girl
and
woman,
not hid
ing
it behind big clothing and
a
fake sense of chastity. Maybe the chastity and preservation of her virginity was the reason she was so easily set off.

The way she freaked on Marion Blake,
s
he just went overboard.
 

That isn’t even the end of the long line.

Sometimes I think she found emotional safety in numbers. As if she remained mild mannered until we were together. She found her strength in me. Of course, I protected her
.
What I was I thinking? Why did I continue to allow myself
to
be a
part?
To witness and even … help.

I’ll be honest. One word … Richie.

Like Pam
,
I too was obsessed with him. There were many times I wanted to walk away from Pam, tell her our friendship was too dangerous, but I couldn’t.
It wasn’t that we were together for so long
; losing Pam
meant never seeing Richie.

Richie called me out on that several times.
Jumping to his ‘loved one
’
s’ defense, saying I used her
,
and to stop using Pam to get to him.

I liked Pam and all. I did. But I liked Richie just as much.

He was right.

Richie and I weren’t more
than
lip buddies in
j
unior high. We’d kiss. I let him feel my chest and then he’d guide my hand over his jeans. To be honest, I didn’t know what the
heck I was feeling
for
or why. I was thirteen
,
for crying out loud
,
and
at
that
time most of us were
naive
.

While I held on to my
virginity
until I was eighteen, I did other things. Other things that made me want to have sex, but I didn’t
.
Probably because deep in my mind, I was waiting on Richie. Just like Pam.

Then again, unlike Pam, I had gone a little further with Richie than just my hands brushing over his pre
-
pubescent jeans.

That night with the
cheerleader. After we went home
I found Richie. I just wanted to blast him, argue with him,
and yell
at him for being with someone else. Outwardly it was in Pam’s defense
;
inwardly, I was just as angry and jealous.

If he was going to cheat, why couldn’t it be
with
me?

Yes, I know, Pam was my friend. But
sometimes
love,
infatuation
, can run deep and dark.

We argued, Richie and I, but we ended up on the floor of his father’s garage, doing things that pushed the limits. Touching, feeling, kissing. He gave my body this feeling I never knew could
exist
. Almost as if I were the edge of delivering something brilliant, but he and I stopped short. I never got to that point.

I held on to that feeling like a drug addict, craving, wanting more.

In
February
of my senior year,
I turned eighteen. Valentine’s Day
,
to be exact.
I
was a woman and I was alone. Richie had teased me. I sent him notes, telling him I wanted to have actual sex for the first time on my eighteenth birthday.

We hadn’t been together since the garage
,
and for
weeks
he told me that
he would
d
o it. That he’d make plans.

When he cancelled on Pam, I was positive it was for me.

My father was out of town, one of the very few weekend
s
he had off, and the house would be mine.

Then Richie cancelled on me.

I threw a fit of rage.
How
could he
cancel
? How could he lead me
on?
I sought out Pam who was miserable and crying because her boyfriend blew her off on
Valentine’s
Day
. I didn’t want to be around misery.
And I was convinced Richie was blowing me off, like Pam, for someone else.

I drove around for hours looking for him
but
couldn’t find him anywhere. At midnight, I gave up and headed to his h
ouse. I was waiting outside
when his father came out. He asked me what I was doing outside, sitting there, all dressed up and looking sad.

I told him …sort of. He invited me inside, telling me I was more than welcome to wait in there for Richie.

Richie’s parents were divorced
;
they married young, had Richie young
,
and broke up. His father was still young for a dad. A lot younger than my father.

It was in that living room that I seduced Richie’s father. It wasn’t too difficult. Rich
S
enior didn’t even realize I was virgin
;
why would he, I didn’t lead on like I was
. I went down on him like a pro beforehand. Never did I imagine my first time would be
sprawled
out on the
well
-
worn reclining chair with the father of my object’s desire. Close enough
,
I suppose. I cringed, clung to everything and tried to make my moans of first
-
time pa
in sound like moans of pleasure, a
ll
the
while hoping and praying
that Richie woul
d come home and see his father having me.

Richie never did.

I fooled around with his father here and there until I graduated and didn’t see him again until the quickie wedding of Richie and Pam. At that point he was with some older woman
,
and he treated me like a little girl. That was okay, I didn’t need him anymore. At that point, I already was on the path to having Richie.

Imagine my surprise, when Dr. Andrews showed up at the library
.
I gathered up my papers as if I were hiding something. I wasn’t. But if he asked me, I would tell him the truth. He was bound by oath, right?

That coffee beverage he recommended had to be an acquired taste. I found it a little bitter, b
u
t since I paid so much for it, I decided to try to finish it.

“You seem very engrossed,” Dr. Andrews said to me as he pulled up a chair to share my space.

“This is so interesting
,
” I said in awe. “Really? I
cannot
believe how far things have come. I mean
,
look at the pictures on the computer.”

“It’s amazing, yes.”

“Nothing
is a secret anymore. It would be hard to hide the truth.”

“It’s also very easy to distort the truth. So many believe what they read on the internet.”

“We shouldn’t?
”

He laughed and touched
his
hand over mine, quickly pulling it back. “My dear, you are very impressionable right now. So, what are you researching
?
”

“I’ll get to that.” I turned my chair to face him. “How did it go with Justin?”

He nodded. “Very well, I think you two should meet tomorrow during your appointment.”

“So you think it’s okay.”

“His attitude i
s
about finding his
mother. It has
nothing to do with your past or the crimes you were once accused of. Had you still
be
en in
the institution and he learned of you, he would have contacted you.”

“Then I would like
to
meet him.” The thought of that
immediately
sent flutters to my stomach. “Is he a nice
boy?
”

“Wonder
ful
and mature.”

“
That’s
good.” My attention was drawn to the computer screen again.

“There is one thing
,
though.”

I looked
at
him.

“He said Sharon has been calling the station trying to reach him.”

My hands fell to my side
,
and I felt as if I were hit with a board. “Sharon?”

“He said her messages were for him to stay away from you. How do you
feel
about that?”

“I feel like it is an invasion of my privacy.”

“But you wanted to find her. There she is. It’s simple …” He
paused
. “
Isn’t
it?”

“No, it’s not. The
more
I think about it, the more I look back … the more I am frightened by the prospect of Sharon resurfacing in my life.”

“That makes sense,” Dr. Andrews said. “Any reason
why you
think
she would want to stop your son from seeing you
?
”

“Jealousy, I don’t
know.” I shrugged. “She always envied my life. Sure
,
she was beautiful and men
enjoyed
her
,
but she
wasn’t
loved. Of course Richie loved her, so I heard. But it
all makes
perfect sense. All of it.”

“What does?” he asked.

“Sharon being the one who killed my children and the others.”

“I’m … I’m sorry, the others? You think Sharon has killed other people.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m positive.
“ I pulled the stack of research to him and set it in front of him. “Here.”

Dr. Andrews lifted
the
sheets
and flipped
through
, merely flipped
through
. “What’s the connection to her and these people?”

I had his answer
,
and I gave it to him in one simple word. “Richie.”

No, no, no, no, no.

God!

What is wrong with me?

I am a professional.
I pride myself on helping others, I
have
helped others, but I can’t control my one demon that haunts me, comes back to be battled and exorcised.

The thing
s
that ha
ve
worked for me
are
a
version therapy and conditioning. They have worked in replacing the Celexa.

There
is
no access to pornography sites on my computer, none. I had James set a password that I didn’t
know for
parental controls. Yes, there are places to get it other than the internet, but the net is the most
accessible
.

I also removed myself from physical contact. The
physical
stimulus along with
a
visual
maintained
a
certain
control
.
I conditioned myself to believ
e
a handshake was not erotic.

But to understand my deviate nature, one has to understand that my
obsessions
and the things I find erotic are out of the norm.

These are things that often times
,
when I lose control, will send me into an aroused frenzy, and seeking the nearest
closet
,
the
solitude of
a
bathroom I could find
,
to
self-release
.

Unfortunately
,
many
of my triggers are in my line of work.

Other paraphiliacs arouse me,
because
I wonder what they are thinking. Women who are dangerous, women who suffer from
severe
depression, a crying woman, elderly men
, catatonic and vulnerable women.

Typically, I can feel the wave banging on my door. Saying that it
’
s back. It’s a warning and I heed it, seeking out James and taking a quick fix pill.

But this time, it was like an unexpected tsunami.

The simple touch of my hand on hers. Th
at
innocent
touch
barreled
me over.

It wasn’t because she was
vulnerable;
it was because touching Pam
brought
back my
earlier
obsession with her.

I
engross
ed myself
with
her case so much so that I
volunteered
to monitor her sleep
study
when the night nurses said she had been calling out in her sleep.
It wasn’t just any patient that night, it was Pam.

It was while she slept
that
she was i
nviting, each turn of her body
exposed her skin
.
I
found myself fantasizing that I went
into
her sleep
study
room, lifted her sheet
,
and
planted
my face between her legs.

It was so
overwhelming;
I literally could
see
myself in the monitors. It got so strong, I didn’t
think
twice about undoing my pants and pleasuring myself at that desk. Wrapped up in my moment, I never saw a soul walk in.

And it was happening again.

I felt the wave hit me when I touched her.
I moved back, turned the conversation, but it was too late.
I was triggered.

The moment her leg
innocently
b
rushed against mind, I
stopped
hearing her
speak;
I only saw her dropping to her knees before me, undoing my jeans and devouring me while the college girl watched from the distance, giving the most awkward thumbs up.

When I realized I was
spending
more time in
fantasy
than reality, I
quickly
excused myself and said I would see her the next day.

The last I wanted to do was self
indulge
. An orgasm would feed my fire over my
fantasy
obsession with Pam.

So I rushed out, thinking other thoughts, trying to contain myself. Pam was officially my patient and an expulsion of ‘feel good’ while thinking of her would only cause more harm than good.

I drove to a section of town that I knew would work for me, would feed another erotic obsession. There, for ten minute
s
and fifty bucks, I found relief.

It was dirty
;
it was quick. It got the job done
,
and I didn’t think of Pam.