Chapter Forty-One
Helene
I felt numb on the ride back to town. I also felt strangely calm, strangely free, and not at all strangely devastated. I’d needed to hear him talk. I’m not sure I’d had any idea until this moment just how much I’d needed that, but I had. I’d needed his secrets. I’d needed the truth. I’d needed to understand why.
And now I did.
He pulled in right next to his dad’s truck in the small cemetery parking area, but he made no move to get out. He put the car in park, took his foot off the brake, and clasped his hands in his lap as he stared down at them. I wasn’t sure if he was waiting for me to say something or working up the nerve to say something himself. But after a minute he was still silent.
I cleared my throat. “How soon?”
He cleared his throat too. “Tomorrow morning.”
I couldn’t stifle the quiet sob that escaped my lips, and I lowered my head as I covered my mouth. It wasn’t long enough.
He reached for my hand, pulling it to his lap. “I have some things I have to do today to clear up my dad’s final expenses, pay off the last of the nursing home charges, make sure everything is processing with the life insurance claim, and get some paperwork in order.”
I nodded, but I didn’t look at him.
“But I need you right now,” he whispered. “I know I don’t deserve that, but please, don’t deny me you right now.”
When I looked at him, his lips trembled even though his eyes stared straight ahead.
He finally looked at me, and his eyes softened. “If you need to say no, it’s okay. I’ll understand.” He was silent for a moment. He looked down at his lap. “I’m not asking to make love to you. I just want to…” His words dropped off.
But I knew what he was going to say. He’d said it a few times recently. “Be close to me,” I said quietly, finishing the sentence for him.
His breath hitched as he inhaled. “You can’t imagine how good it feels.”
He looked at me then, reaching for my cheek and pulling my face closer, but he changed his mind and wrapped his arms around me instead. I sank into his body across the center console of my car, and I clutched at his sides as he buried his face against my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair and down over the back of his neck. His skin popped with goosebumps, and he sniffed back his tears even as he moaned quietly.
“I need to cancel class—”
“No. Please don’t.” He pulled back. “I’ll be there.” His lips pulled up slightly. “I want to be in your class tonight. I love watching you up there.”
I nodded.
“I’m going to … stay here for a little while. Walk down to the grave before I go.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
“No.” He finally reached over and opened the door. He stood at the driver’s side and waited for me to walk around. He hugged me, and I sighed against his neck. I didn’t want to let him go, not for even a second. He smelled so good, the way he always had. He felt good too, warm and strong. And when he pulled back, he cupped my cheek and ran his thumb across my chin.
“I love you, Helene.” He looked at my lips, and he even licked his lower one, but he didn’t lean to my mouth.
“I love you, too.”
The side of his lip pulled up for a second, and then he walked away.
I drove home, but when I approached my driveway and saw Hilde’s car parked there I kept on driving. She had a key, and she was likely waiting inside for me. I grabbed my cell phone. I’d forgotten I’d silenced it when I’d arrived at the cemetery, and when I swiped my finger across the screen it was to see missed call after missed call, interrupted only by voicemail notices and the occasional text message.
I hit play on the first voicemail message.
Call me.
Nothing more.
Second message.
Helene, where are you? Call me … now.
Third message.
Okay. Starting to get worried. Mark told me he called you and told you about Kane’s dad’s funeral. I drove by the cemetery, and Kane’s truck is there, but he’s not and you’re not. Where are you?
Fourth message.
Do I need to call the cops? Don’t think I won’t.
Fifth message.
I am your older sister. You are required, by law, to answer your phone when I call. I’m at your house. I’m not leaving until you call me. Call me. Call me. I’m serious. Call me.
Sixth message.
Honey, this is mom. Hilde’s all in a tizzy because she can’t reach you. Will you please call your sister, so she knows you’re alright? And we really need to talk about this … relationship business that’s going on right now in your life… Oh … Darnit, Reggie. I’m talking… Just stop… Just, oh, here’s your dad. Honey, this is your dad. Call your sister. She’s driving me crazy. So is your mom.
I didn’t call Hilde. I drove. And I drove. And I let my mind wander and tune out life as I did.
I ended up at Lackawanna State Park, a lake about an hour north of Hazleton. I’d been here more times than I could recall on school outings, family picnics, even a couple of times with Kane when we were in high school and wanted to get away from town. It was deserted on this day. Of course, it was entirely too chilly out for campers, and it was lunchtime on a Wednesday.
I pulled into a gravel parking lot that looked out toward the water, and I sat there, staring into the distance. The day was too overcast and gloomy to see the sun, and after sitting in my car in a stupor for nearly five minutes, I climbed out and walked down toward a nearby dock that jutted off into the lake about twenty-feet or so.
The cold dew that would likely turn to frost overnight turned my black flats glossy and wet, and my toes quickly went numb as I walked through the grass. The dock creaked and groaned as I stepped onto it. It was plenty sturdy, but as the water lapped at the floats underneath it, it swayed here and there.
When I reached the end, I stared down into the water. It was dark, reflecting little to no light from the sky at this point, and I imagined falling into it for a moment and sinking slowly to the sandy lake bottom. But then it was someone else falling in, throwing himself in and sinking away from me that I saw—willingly drifting into the dark. I could almost see his eyes watching me as he sank. The panic intensified to something not entirely tolerable, and I dropped to my knees, gripping the side of the dock and gasping for air.
My tears fell, dripping into the black water and sending small ripples out as they splashed. I sobbed loudly, letting it out in such an ugly childlike way. But I was alone, and the world around me was silent. When I screamed, I clenched my fists tight and let the sound roar out of my chest. I don’t recall ever screaming like that—not ever. I wasn’t one to let sound erupt from me. I was too controlled, too stifled, too self-conscious to let go of myself so freely.
But I did.
My scream carried even through my gritted teeth, and when it finally passed as I lost my breath, I gasped again, sucking in air as though I were ready to suffocate. Wasn’t I?
“I can’t watch him leave again. I can’t do it,” I said to the water. “I can’t… I can’t…”
I stayed there on my knees, looking down into the water that seemed to get darker by the second. The dried wood of the deck planks was scraping my knees, and I could feel splinters piercing through my skin. I ignored it as long as I could, focusing on the water and calming my breaths.
When I stood, my legs ached and I hobbled a couple steps back toward the shore until I found my stride. By the time I reached my car, I was so cold I was shivering. I climbed in and cranked the heat up. My phone was sitting in the passenger seat, and I grabbed it with the intention of making sure Hilde hadn’t sent the cops out looking for me.
But as I picked it up, the screen came to life and Kane’s number was there. I paused, and I let it ring over and over and over again, until at the last minute, I swiped my finger across the screen, closed my eyes, and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hello,” I croaked out.
He was silent for a moment. “Baby, where are you?”
“I took a drive.”
He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Hilde was just here. She’s worried about you. Please tell me where you are.”
“Lackawanna. I just… I don’t know.”
“You’re all the way up there?” His exhalation was louder that time. “I’ll come get you—”
“No. Please don’t. I’m heading home.”
He didn’t respond right away. “Okay.”
* * * *
“Okay, everyone, books closed. You have—”
The door suddenly opened, and Kane walked in. He held an apple in his hand, and as he walked toward me, he kept his eyes trained on my face. I was leaning against the front of the desk.
“Sorry I’m late, Professor Hess,” he said quietly as he set the apple down just next to my hand. His fingers brushed mine, and I inhaled sharply as I glanced down at the apple.
“Thank you, Mr. Thorson.”
He turned and took a seat in the middle of the front row, and I took a deep breath.
“As I was saying, you have the entire class period for the test tonight, and you’re free to leave when you’re finished. Any questions before we get started?”
Kane’s eyes traveled down my body, stilling when they reached my knees. I’d not thought to change since getting home from Lackawanna. In fact, it was safer to say Hilde had eaten up every last second of my time grilling me incessantly about my absence earlier in the day, and I’d spent my time refusing to answer her invasive questions. I was still wearing my dress and ballet flats. And given the way Kane’s eyes were studying my knees, I was still sporting red kneecaps covered in scrapes, scuffs, and a few splinters. His brow furrowed, and his lips pursed, and when he finally looked up and met my eyes for a moment, he cocked his head to the side. I ignored it.
“Okay then.” I pushed off the desk with the stack of tests in my hands. I handed stacks out to the students in the front row to pass back, and when I returned to the front desk and sat down, students were already busy scribbling away—including Kane. I couldn’t imagine this test meant that much to him, considering he wouldn’t be passing the class without the remaining quizzes, final paper and final exam, but he was working diligently.
Thirty minutes later, he stood. He was the first to finish, and I was actually disappointed. Being finished meant he was free to leave. The last night I would have him in class, and it was over. He walked casually up to me. He was holding his test, of course, but he’d pulled an envelope out of his textbook as well.
When he reached me, he set his test down and the envelope as well. “I’d like to turn in my final paper today.” He pulled his lower lip into his mouth as he watched me.
I just stared back for a moment, but then I nodded. “O…” My voice caught in my throat. “Okay.”
He nodded and smiled. “Okay.” He looked around the room for a moment, and when his eyes returned to me, they were glossy even though he still smiled. “I’ll see you later,” he said as his eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then he turned and walked out.
“Yeah…” my voice trailed after him, and when the door closed behind him, I had to look down at my lap for a few moments.
I picked up his test, and I started reading.
1.) Define and discuss a posteriori knowledge. Relate this concept to real life.
A posteriori knowledge relates to knowledge and understanding that exist through experience. Experience is, in fact, the basis of this concept. This concept diverges from the alternate a priori knowledge which does not require experience. At its root, a posteriori requires the senses in order to truly have knowledge of something.
I would relate it to real life in the following way:
I’m in love with you. This is concrete and unquestionable knowledge to me. And while it may be so concrete and so defined as to suggest it exists absent experience, I have and continue every day to experience it through every last sense I have.
I taste you. There isn’t a single ounce of your skin I don’t want to experience. Your cum is perfect and indescribable, your lips are always sweet, and when your skin turns salty, I know it’s for the best of reasons and has everything to do with both of us and what our bodies are doing together. That particular taste is so exceptionally intense. It’s your need, your desire, your desperation to be with me, to give yourself to me. You’re an exceptionally passionate lover, and when your skin becomes clammy and moist as you work to get what you need from me, I can taste every ounce of your want. I taste you.
I smell you. Everywhere I turn you’ve imprinted yourself on me. It’s the way my sheets smell like your perfume after you’ve slept in them, and it’s that ghost like sense that you’ve just passed through a room by the same lingering sweetness. And don’t get me started on the scent of your arousal. It can intensify my need in a blinding rush, and the very best thing I can say about this particular sense is that it has a tendency to thread together memories in one’s mind, linking the past and the present, and even giving me hope for a future—that you’ll be a part of mine. It’s a perfect trigger for everything I need to recall of you. I love your scent.
I hear you. Even when I can’t be near enough for your voice to reach me, I still hear it. Your sound makes me smile, it makes me laugh, it enrages me at times, and it makes me weep at other times. The pain you can convey in nothing more than your tone can bring me to my knees. And the joy it can impart is enough to give me everlasting peace. It’s a signature, much like the taste of you, which defines your existence to me. And I hear it so loudly.
I feel you. In every part of me, I feel you. My heart beats, it flutters, it drums, it pounds in desperation for you every time I’m near you and even when I’m not. It sends electric waves of warmth through my body along with my blood, and the very physical way I feel your presence inside me as a result is incredible. I feel it just as I feel the softness and warmth of your skin under my fingers when I touch you. I feel it to the same intense degree I feel your wetness coating my lips when I lick your pussy. I feel it like I feel the tightness of you around my cock when I’m making love to you. I feel the presence of you coursing through my veins every day. You touch every part of me in a very physical way. And I feel it.
I see you. I see the very visual parts of you—your incredible smile that always makes me want to kiss you, your amazing wide eyes that wake my senses up, your small breasts that I’ve become addicted to, your slight curves that I can’t seem to stop touching, and that beautiful warm place between your legs which gives me immense pleasure and has all but banished the dark memories of what I did to you from so long ago. But there’s more of you to see than just that. I see the hidden parts too that only you and I know about. I see your pain, I see your nightmares, I see your strength. I also see your heart. It’s breaking right now, but it’s still the most incredible part of you, because it has the capacity to love me and that’s everything to me. Baby, I see you so clearly.
In summary, you’re an experience of the senses to me. I experience my love for you in something far more profound than a mere thought. It’s in everything I feel, see, hear, taste and smell every day. That, in a nutshell, is how a posteriori knowledge affects my life.
It is my life.
My Sweet Hell,
I’d really like to see you tonight. I will understand if you can’t, but please let me be close to you one more time.
Yours,
Kane.
“Professor Hess…”
I hummed. It was kind of a response, but my mind was just a bit too far away to fully engage with the speaker.
“Professor Hess…”
“Mm-hmm…” I finally glanced up, looking around the room in confusion for a moment.
“Are you okay?” It was Abby, the sweet girl from the restroom.
“What?” I asked, suddenly noticing there was a small stack of tests on my desk and a good third of the students were already gone. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Well, it’s just…” Abby pointed to her cheek. “You’re crying.”
I reached for my cheek, brushing the tears away. “Oh, no. No, no. I just… allergies.” I said, and I forced myself to smile.
She didn’t look sold, but she smiled back, finally setting her test on the desk. “Have a good night.”
“You too.”
I quickly flipped through the rest of Kane’s test. Completely blank. I sat there, gnawing on my thumbnail for the next thirty minutes, and when it was down to the last five students, my knee started bouncing too. Patience was becoming nearly impossible, and I packed up my things and stuffed tests haphazardly into my briefcase before the last two students were even done.
The very moment they walked up at the same time, I reached for their tests, snatching them from their hands as they both stared at me in shock.
“Tha… Thanks,” I spit out as I snapped my briefcase closed. I grabbed the apple off the desk, and then I ran from the room. I didn’t slow when I hit the hallway, and I passed other students by, none of whom were moving as quickly as me. The farther I ran, the faster my feet moved, and by the time I hit the exit door, I was sprinting. Students were staring, their eyes following me as I ran, and I didn’t stop until I was yanking my car door open.
I climbed in, panting and gasping for breath as I tried frantically to fit the key into the ignition, and as I pulled out, my tears started falling. “Goddammit,” I spit out through my tears. I lowered the front windows, letting the cold air rush through my car, and I inhaled and exhaled as deeply as I could, forcing my body to calm and my lungs to work.