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Authors: Wodke Hawkinson

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BOOK: Zeke
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Sue fell asleep looking at the red
petals, wondering why Zeke had to be so secretive, wishing she could show him
off to the world.

 

Zeke forgot about Sue almost as
soon as she stepped from his van. His mind was on food as he drove home. He had
just settled into his bed with a book and a plate of snacks when Mrs.
Harrington summoned him via the intercom.

“Come on upstairs, Ezekiel,” she
said throatily. “I’m in a mood tonight.”

He grimaced and set aside his food,
wanting to go but wanting to eat also. Stripping off his boxers, he shut out
his light before closing his bedroom door.

He found a naked Lazlo already in
Mrs. Harrington’s bedroom, looking down at her lounging on her satin sheets.
Zeke thought he understood the lithe Latin man. Lazlo was probably so afraid of
being deported he’d do anything for the woman, including suck her toes, a chore
Zeke found too repulsive to contemplate.

“I think I’d like Lazlo underneath
this time,” she purred.

Lazlo obeyed at once and lay down
beside her. She got up and straddled him.

“Get the oil please, Ezekiel,” she
said as she positioned herself atop Lazlo.

Zeke opened the drawer of the
nightstand and took out the lubricant. He opened the bottle and applied liberal
amounts to himself and to Mrs. Harrington. He loved anal play. She lay forward
over Lazlo giving Zeke better access. He was glad he had been chosen for
this
position, rather than Lazlo’s. He had been in Lazlo’s spot before and
remembered their weight pressing down on him.

Lazlo did his best to thrust
against the combined mass of Zeke and Mrs. Harrington, while Zeke worked from
behind. Apparently, they did an acceptable job since Mrs. Harrington yipped
with pleasure. Zeke held his own climax until Mrs. Harrington enjoyed hers.
Then and only then would she give him permission to finish. And she did like to
prolong things.

When they were finally done, she
dismissed Zeke and kept Lazlo in her bed. Zeke wondered if Lazlo was becoming
her new favorite and decided he couldn’t care less.

He was drowsy when he returned to
his room and took a quick shower. He didn’t bother with his boxer shorts or his
book, instead falling into sleep the minute he hit the soft mattress.

 

 

Lessons in Lovemaking

 

“You’re an approval-seeker, Susie,”
Zeke said after she told him about how she’d had to rush to get an English
report done on time. They were sitting in his van on a quiet residential
street. “I’m not faulting you for it. You were raised that way; you have a lot
to overcome.”

“So was I supposed to not turn in
my assignment?” Sue felt vaguely insulted. She had hurried to meet him after
work, knowing he didn’t like to wait. He didn’t seem happy to see her.

“What if you hadn’t? Why should you
put yourself on someone else’s schedule, doing what someone else dictates? Why
should you allow yourself to be treated like property? There are alternatives.”
He tapped her forehead roughly with his finger. “You’ve got a better mind than
that, Sue. Think.”

“I can’t figure out what you want
me to say.” She was confused.

“I can’t tell you what to say. Then
you would just be parroting me. If I wanted that, I would just listen to myself
talk.” Zeke sounded frustrated. He shook his head slightly.

“If I don’t turn in my assignments,
I’ll fail my class.” Sue’s voice trembled slightly.

“And what do you think about the
methods used today to label, grade, and define every student’s identity, even
their very worth, by attaching a meaningless letter to every tiny piece of
writing they produce?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“I don’t know.”

“You do know. In fact, you are the
one and only undisputed world-wide expert on the subject.”

“I’m an expert on grading systems?”

“No, you blockhead!” Zeke laughed.
“You’re an expert on what you think. I asked you what you think. Remember?”

“Oh.” She gave a nervous titter to
hide the sting of his words and hoped he was joking.

“Maybe we need to pick an easier
task,” he said sarcastically. “How about you just take down your panties
instead?”

“I don’t think I want to.” Sue’s
throat was tight with tears.

“Fine then. I’ll take you back to
your car. Maybe when you get out of your mood, you can call me.” He jammed the
van into gear and drove recklessly back to the Re-Books parking lot where she
had left her car. It was still early; not even twilight yet, and her evening
was ruined.

Zeke remained cold and didn’t tell
her goodbye when he dropped her off. By the time she slid behind the wheel,
harsh sobs were already working their way up from the pit of her stomach.
Through the tears in her eyes, she watched Zeke drive away. She rolled the
window down and let the hot air escape from the car. So miserable she could
barely think straight, Sue drove home. She refused dinner, went up to her room,
and cried herself to sleep.

 

Zeke pulled into the driveway of
Mrs. Harrington’s estate. Earlier, Mrs. Harrington had advised Zeke that he
would be giving Lazlo a lesson in lovemaking, so he’d had to cut short his
evening with Sue. He’d picked the fight deliberately so he could leave early,
and it had put him in a foul mood. Lazlo already knew what to do, but Mrs.
Harrington liked playing teacher, and he had no choice but to go along with
her. Not if he wanted a place to live, that is.

Slamming into the house, he ran up
the stairs, taking two at a time, and ducked into the bathroom.

“Ezekiel,” Mrs. Harrington called.
“Come on in here. We’re ready to begin.”

Annoyed, Zeke knew he had to answer
his keeper’s call. He had no choice but to respond. Leaning over the bathroom
sink, he looked at his hair in the mirror. He bared his teeth, checking they
were clean, then stepped back and slapped on some cologne.

Entering the bedroom, he almost
laughed at the sight of Lazlo sitting quietly in a chair in the corner. The man
was nude, but shielded his privates with his hands, as if Zeke hadn’t seen his
junk before.

Mrs. Harrington was prone on the
bed in a filmy robe that made her look ludicrous. Zeke shrugged. It could be
worse. At least, she might tip him a twenty tonight. She was stingy with her
resources, as she counted room and board, the tiny stipend she paid each month,
and the privilege of pleasuring her as often as
she
needed, more than
sufficient compensation.

Zeke swaggered to the bed and
parted her robe. Lazlo watched intently, his dark eyes glittering, but remained
silent. Zeke couldn’t remember ever hearing the gardener speak. Just as well,
Zeke was uninterested in anything he might say anyway.

Zeke knew Mrs. Harrington did not
require nor appreciate the kissing and cuddling most women craved, so he got
right down to business. Mrs. Harrington kept up a running narration of every
move he made, as if instructing Lazlo in a lost art. Whatever trips your
trigger, Zeke thought. He felt like a performer in a documentary.

“Now see, Lazlo,” she said between
breaths. “That’s what I want. Just like Ezekiel did.”

She continued to give directions to
Lazlo as Zeke finished inside her. She then rolled him off of her.

“You can go now.” Mrs. Harrington
dismissed Zeke. He got up from the bed and walked toward the door.

“Now you try,” she instructed
Lazlo, who edged over to the bed and followed Zeke’s example with precision.
Zeke smiled as he stepped from the room and closed the door.

 

While Sue cried herself to sleep
that night, Zeke swam slow laps in the backyard pool illuminated only by
moonlight, his nude body sinuous, like a sleek animal. He was off duty now that
Lazlo was on the job, and he could have gone to Sue. His angry mood had passed,
but he thought it might be good for her to worry a little. His hands barely made
a sound as he sliced through the water. At the end of each stroke, he took a
deep breath of the warm night air. What a life, he thought.

 

Sue answered the phone the next
morning to hear Zeke’s voice. He didn’t mention the incident from the day
before and Sue was relieved he was still speaking to her; although, she
remained baffled by their argument.

 

 

Robots to Serve the Collective

 

“College degrees are only good for
one thing,” Zeke declared, “and that’s to make the people who have them think
they’re smarter than everyone else. That’s all you get for your hard-earned
money. Hell, some of the stupidest people I know have gone to college.”

“What about doctors, Zeke?” Sue
asked dubiously. “Don’t you think they need some education?”

“Well, yeah.” Zeke looked at her,
surprised. “Sure they do. But, I’m not talking about doctors here. I’m talking
about all those other bullshit degrees people get that don’t mean anything in
the real world.”

“I think I’ll need one to get a
good job,” Sue said, her throat tight with unshed tears. He made her feel
stupid for wanting an education. “They say you can’t get a good job without
one.”

“I know that’s what they say.” Zeke
shook his head. “But just think, Sue. Right from the start, from the time we
are little kids, we’re programmed. They call it education, I call it
indoctrination. Turning us all into little robots to serve the collective.
That’s the real reason for school. It’s not to make us smart; it’s designed to
make us compliant. And there’s a big difference.”

“Robots?” Sue ventured.

“Let me ask you something,” Zeke
said. “Did you like school when you were growing up?”

“Not really that much.” In fact,
she had hated it. “But, I don’t know that I was indoctrinated into anything. I
don’t quite get that.”

“I know, but you will if you think
hard,” Zeke assured her. “Wasn’t there even one time in your life when you did
something in school that you thought was great, really great? But the teacher
didn’t agree? Gave you a grade less than you deserved?”

“Yes, actually, there was,” Sue
said, contemplatively. “It was a long time ago, though. We were supposed to
draw a rainy day. So my picture was a woman with her umbrella wrong side out,
you know, because it was windy. The teacher told me my umbrella wasn’t right,
and so it lowered my grade on the project. She told me umbrellas don’t look
like that, and that I needed to pay closer attention to the things I draw. When
I tried to explain it to her, she didn’t listen. So, I gave up.”

“That’s a good example, bunny.” He
smiled at her and her insides warmed pleasantly.

Sue desperately wanted Zeke to
think she was smart, cool, and edgy. Like him. The more he admired her, the
less she remembered that little gap-toothed awkward girl she had been, and the
more distance she could put between her present self and those childhood days
of mockery and torment. She hated the shame and pain when the other kids picked
on her. It was still difficult for her to work up the courage to talk to
strangers, or even people she’d known for a long time. Except for Zeke, he was
easy to talk to, and he always listened to every word she said as if nothing in
the world was more interesting. His stunning good looks were just a bonus. Sue
had never expected to feel self-confident, but Zeke boosted her morale like no
one else had ever done, and she was grateful.

“I bet you could think of more
examples if you really tried. Anyway, the point is that schools are not for
education. In fact, they don’t really want the masses to be too intelligent.
They don’t want independent thinkers that might question the system. I figured
that out a long time ago. That’s why I don’t have much respect for college
degrees. Or even high school diplomas, for that matter. It’s all just
indoctrination.” Zeke’s eyes had a faraway look.

Sue was practical enough to know
that most employers didn’t share Zeke’s opinion of education, but she kept
these thoughts to herself. Secretly, she hoped there would be a future for her
and Zeke. It worried her that he didn’t seem to have any desire to improve his
situation.

“You don’t ever plan to go to
college?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Maybe. If I have to. I’m going try it my way first, though. Someday I’ll own
my own business, you just watch. And I won’t need a college degree to do it.
There are plenty of people out there, making it in the real world, and they
didn’t even finish high school. As far as I’m concerned, that whole college
thing is a rip-off.”

“What about your career as a poet?”
Sue remembered their first conversation.

“Poet? What are you talking about?”

“You told me you wanted to be a
poet,” Sue said, surprised at his response.

“Oh, yeah. Well, that’s a side
venture.” Zeke shot her a sharp glance. “Why are you acting so stuffy? What’s
your problem?”

“I wish you didn’t think college is
a waste of my time,” Sue said plaintively. “I’ve already invested so much work
into it.”

He gathered her into his arms and
nuzzled her neck.

“I think you misunderstood me. I
don’t care if you go to college, baby. I wasn’t putting you down or anything.
I’m really proud of you. It’s like you’re scamming the system. You’re still
you, no matter what kind of garbage they stuff in your head. You’re sort of a
rebel inside. I love that about you. Nobody but me knows your wild side.”

With these seductive words, the
situation stabilized. He slipped his hand into her jeans and fondled her. He
was right. She
felt
like a rebel as she moved against his fingers. Zeke
saw qualities in her that no one else did, and she loved him for it. In fact,
she found it addictive. She never tired of hearing his perceptions of her; even
the ones she felt were grossly inaccurate.

 

 

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BOOK: Zeke
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