Torn

*Note to readers. I recently found myself looking through my high school year book for the first time in several years. As I always do, I remember with great fondness my beautiful, former English teacher, a married woman with whom I had a rather lengthy affair my senior year. Teacher-student affairs aren't common, but they certainly aren't rare by any means. Those involving very young students are very different than those involving someone who is 18. Some find both cases immoral and disgusting. I agree on the former, but strongly disagree on the latter.

That affair, of course, always reminds me of the other, much briefer affair I had with a beautiful, married Mormon woman during the summer after graduating from high school. The Mormon woman was so racked with guilt that after we slept together I thought she might have a nervous breakdown. That relationship effectively ended shortly thereafter. We never went out in public and the reasons why are obvious.

My former teacher however, was as deeply hooked as I was, and in spite of her many concerns, we went to great lengths to find ways to be together in public. We often drove forty or fifty miles just to go to dinner or a movie and once we drove from Seattle to Portland to spend a weekend together.

This story draws on both experiences to show the very real difficulties involved in this kind of affair and the fiery passions that cause people to take such risks.

If you haven't read my own personal stories about these experiences, please take a look at Creative Writing and Bagging Lauren. This story is, of course, purely fictional.

*****

"Yes, hello? I was trying to reach Janet. Is she home?"

"No, I'm sorry. May I take a message?"

"Do you expect her soon? I thought she got home around ten?"

"No, sorry. She just went back to working graveyard. She left a little before ten. This is her son. Is there something I could maybe help you with?"

"Oh, hi. Um....this is Erica Roberts. I just moved in across the street. Your mom and I spoke briefly yesterday and she gave me this number to call if I ever needed something."

"Oh, okay. She mentioned a new couple moved in. My name's Kyle, by the way. Sorry for not getting over to say hello yet, but welcome to the neighborhood. This is some crazy weather for your first day, huh?"

"Thank you. That's very kind and yes it is crazy weather. The reason I was calling is my husband's gone—again—and, well, I know this is going to sound silly, but it sounds like there's someone outside. I don't know anyone else and I didn't know who to call. Can you possibly look outside and just tell me if you see anyone?"

"Um...sure. Hold on." Kyle set the phone down, went over to the window and looked across the street. It was very dark, raining like cats and dogs, and the wind was howling and blowing like hell.

"Mrs. Roberts? I looked but I can barely see your house. It's so nasty out there I can't really see much beyond the street light. Would you like me to come over and take a look?"

"This is so embarrassing, but yes, would you mind? I feel terrible asking, but I won't be able to relax or go to sleep until I'm sure."

"No, that's okay. I'll come take a look for you. I'm sure it's just the wind blowing something and banging against something else. It's really blowing out there."

"You know. That's okay. I don't want to trouble you. I guess I should have called the police, huh? Now I feel really silly."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Roberts. I'll be right there. Let me just grab my raincoat and a flashlight. I didn't see any lights in your house. Is your power still on?"

"Yes, the electricity is fine. I turned the lights off because I'm so afraid. It's that pounding noise. Do you really not mind?"

"Not at all. I'll be right there, okay?"

"Thank you, Kyle. Thank you so much."

He went upstairs and grabbed his raincoat and rain pants along with a large flashlight, thinking it would serve as a weapon if needed without realizing it would be worthless against a knife or a gun.

It was just after 10:30 at night and he knew he'd still get pretty wet in spite of the rain gear. The wind was blowing so hard the rain was coming down sideways which meant he'd essentially be taking a shower fully clothed. But he also knew he'd been raised with a strong sense of altruism and helping women was one of things men did just because. Even those who, like him, were barely men in the legal sense.

Having just turned 18 a month ago, Kyle McLawhorn was legally a man, but in most senses, he was a still a boy who attended high school and lived at home with his widowed mother. He'd lost his father five years ago when the Minneapolis police office was shot and killed during a raid on a meth lab in an abandoned home near the city limits.

Kyle loved and admired his father for the way he'd dedicated his life to helping and serving others. It was times like this that his example stood tallest in Kyle's mind, and he knew his father would be doing this very thing were he alive. To do anything else would be dishonoring his memory.

Kyle was a paradox to a lot of people. He was a high-school senior who played football and wrestled, but who was also captain of the debate team. There were few topics in life that didn't interest him and when he wasn't playing sports, he was reading. It didn't matter what; he just loved to read. Science, history, medicine, geography, archeology, politics, religion, the military. Virtually everything in the world around him fascinated him from the Big Bang to things that went bang.

Blessed with very good looks and an equally capable mind, he nevertheless preferred spending a Friday night at home reading a book or doing research on line to hanging out with friends or partying—a code word used by high school students for getting drunk or high—two things Kyle never did. To him, that was the ultimate waste of time and life was too short to spend in an alternate state of reality when reality itself was so incredibly interesting.

He did his share of dating, but the really attractive girls who hung around him to no end, held no interest for him. Sure, it was fun to go out and even make out—or more—but if the girl couldn't talk about something deeper than Jersey Shore or The Bachelorette, that was it. If she knew who Snooki was, but had never heard of Sigmund Freud or Stephen Hawking, she was vacuous, and there wouldn't be a second date, and that was okay with Kyle as he was in no hurry to get serious with anyone. He planned to go to college, start a career, and then try and find someone with similar interests with whom he could one day raise a family and there was plenty of time for that.

He came back downstairs, flipped on the front porch light, then turned on the flashlight, and headed outside. Before he even got to the street, his shoes and socks were drenched and water was dripping inside his hood in spite of having cinched it down as tightly as he could.

He entered Mrs. Robert's yard and saw her turn on her front porch light. He waggled the flashlight at her her front door letting her know he was outside. He quickly walked the entire perimeter of the house, and soon found the guilty culprit out back. There was a sheet of asphalt roofing shingles sticking out of a wood pile and the wind was whipping it up and down on the patio causing a loud slapping sound. He pulled the shingles out, laid them flat, and covered them with two bricks laying nearby, then finished his walk around.

Satisfied nothing else was making any noise and that no intruders were nearby, he rang the front doorbell. Kyle knew she was waiting there as he'd seen her following him from room to room as he glanced in through any window he passed as he walked by.

She opened the door and said over the wind and rain, "Please come inside!"

He stepped in as she quickly closed the door behind him. To his surprise she had two large towels with her. "Don't worry about the water," she told him as he dripped everywhere. "Go ahead and take off your wet weather gear and you can use this one to dry off with."

Once he'd done that, she used the other towel to sop up as much of the watery mess he'd made as she could before hanging his rain gear on a coatrack. The foyer was tile so anything she didn't get now could easily be cleaned up when he left.

As he finished briskly toweling his hair and wiping his face, he lowered the heavy cotton towel and saw his new neighbor for the first time. He knew he'd done a double take but tried to recover and not stare. He'd been expecting a much older, very matronly-looking woman, but instead saw a somewhat older, very attractive woman smiling at him.

"Kyle? Hi, I'm Mrs. Roberts. I can't thank you enough for doing this in that weather. It's just awful out there! I was freezing just watching you walk around."

"Oh, you're very welcome," he said trying not to stare. She was quite a bit younger than his own 43-year old mother who worked as a registered nurse at the Fairview Southdale Hospital. She looked to be somewhere around 30 and she was simply gorgeous. He took a second quick look and smiled at her as he did. Her hair was parted on one side and fell to her shoulders. It was very dark, long, and silky. Her eyes were a beautiful emerald green, and she had a dazzling white smile. His eyes flew across her body as he pretended to be looking down at his feet and he couldn't help but notice it was as attractive as her face.

"Sorry about all the mess," he said as they both saw the puddle around his shoes.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said. "You're a lifesaver." She threw the towel around his feet and said, "Just kick off your shoes and socks and I'll bring you a dry pair, okay?"

He did just that then stepped onto the carpeting once he knew his jeans weren't going to drip water on it. She came back a few moments later with a pair of dry socks he assumed belonged to her husband.

As she handed them to him, she said, "These should fit just fine. I'm a little embarrassed to say I expected someone about half your size. I had no idea you were well, basically a grown man." He took the socks as she continued speaking. "Your mom told me you were a student so I guess I just assumed you'd be, you know, smaller."

"It's okay," he said. He smiled again then told her, "I guess I had an equally inaccurate mental image of you."

Erica was taken aback by the way he spoke that she had to ask him, "So Kyle, are you a high school student or in college?"

"I'm a senior in high school, ma'am," he told her.

"I asked because I've been teaching high school for 10 years now and I can't remember the last time someone your age said something so articulately."

Kyle laughed and said, "I take a lot of grief for that from my friends, Mrs. Roberts. They often tell me in 18-going-on-40." She smiled at him and he quickly added, "I tell them that's ridiculous because I'm really only going on 30."

Erica laughed and said, "I can tell already you're an enigma."

"Ah, a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma? Or just an enigma?" he asked with a smile.

"Seriously? You're familiar with Churchill?"

Kyle pretended to grab the lapels of a suit coat and in his best British voice said, "We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender!"

"Oh, my goodness! You were already my hero for coming to my rescue, but now I'm genuinely impressed. Do you have time for a cup of hot tea?"

"I think I could manage to squeeze you in before my next rescue mission," he replied flashing his best smile at her.

"Okay, give me just a minute and I'll get some water boiling."

He followed her to the kitchen and she offered him a seat on one of the barstools at the counter as she filled the tea kettle.

"So how do you like living here so far, Mrs. Roberts?"

"It's okay," she said noncommittal way. "We just moved here from Seattle."

"What brings you all the way to Minneapolis?" he asked.

"My husband is a pilot. He flies for American Airlines. He just made captain and along with the promotion came the move so...here we are." Her tone of voice spoke volumes.

"Something tells me this has been hard on you."

She turned on the gas then turned around. "That is just not fair."

"Fair?" he asked.

"Yes. Fair. As in—unfair."

"Okay, I'm lost," he admitted.

"Well, you're 18, you're clearly a very nice-looking guy, you're also clearly a very intelligent young man, and you're insightful. It's just not fair to have that much going for yourself at such a young age."

"I like to read a lot," he told her. "It takes me everywhere from the stars to the quantum world."

"Why am I sure if I asked you about Schrodinger's cat, you'd be able to explain his equation describing quantum mechanical behavior?" She smiled at him then said, "Don't answer that, okay? If you actually can explain Schrodinger's equation, I'm going to feel very foolish because I have a degree in mathematics."

"I am taking AP calculus and physics, but I'm not quite ready to give my dissertation on quantum mechanics."

"Not yet anyway, right?" she said still smiling.

"I might need a another semester or two," he told her with a smile of his own.

The tea kettle whistled and she turned off the stove. "Milk and sugar?" she asked as she poured.

"Sugar, please," he said.

"Here's the big question. One lump or two?"

"I thought the big question was how to unify gravity with the other fundamental forces."

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a look that made him laugh. "Sorry. One, please."

She stirred the liquid until the cube dissolved then set the cup and saucer in front of him.

"So what is a very intelligent, very good-looking high-school senior doing sitting home alone on a Saturday night?"

"Someone's gotta be on call when a damsel in distress needs help, right?"

Erica nearly lost the sip of tea she was swallowing. "Gee, what a surprise. You have a great sense of humor, too," she told him. She took another small sip then asked, "So what was making all the noise outside?"

He told her what he'd found and how he'd remedied the situation.

"I honestly can't thank you enough. I was sure it was nothing, but I couldn't let it go without checking and I really didn't want to go outside in this let alone find someone out there with bad intentions. So...thank you, Kyle. I really mean that."

"You're very welcome, Mrs. Roberts. If you ever need anything—anything at all—just let me know, okay?"

"Your mother has done an amazing job raising you. I barely know her, but I can see she's a wonderful parent."

"Thank you. She really is. She does everything for me and especially so since my dad died. She always...."

"Oh, Kyle! I had no idea. Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry."

He told her briefly about how he was killed and what a great man he'd been as well as the huge influence he'd had on Kyle's life.

"So that's where your sense of altruism comes from. Okay, this makes a lot more sense now." She took another sip then said, "I'm sure he'd be very proud of you, Kyle. You really are a very unusual young man."

"Well, thank you—I think."

"Oh, no! I meant 'unusual' in the best way possible. I'd already said 'amazing' so I was looking for an acceptable synonym."

"Oh, okay. Just like in writing where we try not to use the same word too close together. You know, like saying everything is 'good' when there are numerous other ways to express the same thought using well—synonyms."

Erica smiled again then asked, "So what do you do for fun? By the way you're built, I'm guessing you play sports. Do you ever hang out with friends? Do you have a girlfriend or maybe girlfriends—plural?"

"Guilty on the sports. Football and wrestling. I don't currently have a girlfriend and hanging out isn't my idea of fun. At least if beer is involved. That's just not my thing."

"Oh, my. You truly are an enigma!" she said smiling at him again. "You play sports, you love to read, you don't drink, you don't have a girlfriend, and you willingly risk your life to help out older married women for fun. Hmmm. Maybe 'unique' is the better word than enigma."

"I can live with that," Kyle said smiling back. "How about you, Mrs. Roberts? What do you do for fun?"

Her smiled faded as she sat her tea cup down. Her eyes went down along with the cup. There was a long, uncomfortable pause before she finally looked back up. "Well, I have teaching which I really enjoy. I'm starting in my new school on Monday and...since I live across the street that tells me we may have that in common. Are you a student at Southdale High by any chance?"

"Guilty again," he said. "You don't teach AP calculus, do you?" he asked.

"I can, but no, I won't be. At least not this semester. I'm teaching trigonometry to mostly sophomores and juniors."

"Whew!" Kyle said not totally just pretending to be relieved.

"What? I'll have you know I'm a really good teacher," she said feigning indignation.

"I have no doubt," he told her. "It would just be hard to be in your class."

"Oh, right. The whole neighbor thing. Yeah, that might be a bit much, huh?" she said missing the gist of his comment.

"No, not that so much," he said before breaking eye contact. He could tell she didn't get it so he said very quickly, "It would be kind of hard to focus on math if you were, you know...."

Her face lit up again and she put her hand on his forearm. "Ah! That is the sweetest thing ever! Thank you for saying that. You just made me almost feel young again."

Her smile was simply amazing and just her gentle touch on his forearm was causing very unwanted consequences. Consequences over which he had no control.

She noticed the way he looked at her so she slowly pulled her hand back and said, "I've monopolized far too much of your time already. I should let you get back home."

"No, I'm the one who's overstayed his welcome. It's just that you're so easy to talk to. If I could find a girl my age like that, I'd...." He stopped talking in mid-sentence then said, "Maybe I should go." He smiled at her and stood up. "After all, that big old empty house gets lonely when I'm not there to keep it company."

"Well, you don't have to go. If you're just gonna sit over there alone and I'm gonna sit here alone, you'd be welcome to stay and talk or we could watch a movie. Well, if I can find the box with my DVDs in it."

There were boxes all around the house. Some were open, others were empty. Most hadn't even been touched.

"Are your TV and DVD player even set up?"

"Oh. Um...good point. Yeah, that kind of makes watching a movie pretty tough, doesn't it??

"I can hook them up in a few minutes if you know where they are and show me where you want them. And while I'm doing that, you can hunt for your DVDs."

"No, I can't ask you to do anything else, Kyle. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't enjoy your company. I do. But I don't like taking advantage of people and you've already done more than I can every repay."

"If you repay me, then it won't be genuine altruism, will it?" he said smiling at her until she smiled back. "Come on. Let's find your equipment and I'll get them set up. Unless of course you're tired and need to get to bed."

"Oh, okay. All this being nice was just a setup so you could start in with the old-age jokes." She narrowed her eyes and said, "I'm on to you, Kyle." She stood up, too, and was directly in front of him.

"Busted!" he said. "I hate it when you old folks see right through me."

After a brief laugh, there was a moment where they stood there just looking into one another's eyes. It was less than two seconds, but it was...electric.

"Um...yeah. Let's see. Where did I see the television?" she said as she quickly broke eye contact and began rummaging through boxes. "Ah! Here's the tube," she said tapping a box that obviously held a TV. "And...." She walked through a small stack of other boxes then said, "Yep. Right here. The DVD and the cables should all be in here. So let me see if I can track down my movies while you're doing that."