Jackie was crying a little when she finished. I was surprised and impressed that she wrote what she did. I said, “Wow that was good. I can see that you’ve put a lot of time and thought into it. Can you tell me what inspired you to write it?”
She smiled and seemed appreciative that I actually wanted to know more and just listen to her. Considering we had lots of time to kill I was all ears thinking her explanation would be a lot more interesting than listening to the song in the cassette player for the one hundredth time, silence or radio static.
Her story began soon after a college class she had been auditing ended for the week. It was midafternoon. She, her study group and the class professor were hungry and decided to go have a picnic at the Botanical Gardens.
The group drove their cars to a nearby convenience store, bought subs, chips and a case of beer to drink then met back at the park, to eat and talk. After the beer was gone one of the boys grabbed a full liter of Jack Daniels from his car and the professor started rolling joints for everyone. They had nowhere to go and it was a Friday night. Everyone got hammered.
Eventually things started getting out of hand or weird. Jackie started making out with the professor and her future (ex) husband Perry at the same time. When no one was paying attention she and the instructor snuck off into some nearby bushes and had sex. It was a mind blowing experience for her and the best sex she ever had. She felt in her heart that the teacher was a soul mate and that she needed to talk to him about her revelation later on, when they were sober.
She, and her friends, eventually passed out from all the booze and pot. The professor though, left.
When they all woke from their stupor they were still pretty drunk and decided to keep drinking. Someone suggested walking back to the University campus to find their teacher. On the way there more beer and a bottle of vodka were purchased to drink.
Once back on campus they began walking towards the Psychology Department Faculty offices were. From a distance they saw their teacher get into his car, pull out of the parking lot and drive down the road towards them. Because they were all VERY drunk, a couple of the boys absentmindedly jumped into the road to waive down the professor. .
It was dark and she thinks that their instructor was still pretty wasted from a few hours earlier. He only saw one of the young men staggering and waving at him in the road. He hit the other kid hard. His body flew into the nearby bushes.
The remainder of the group was so impaired that they did not realize what happened and just kept walking towards the professor’s office then passed out again on some courtyard benches until they sobered up enough to walk back to their cars in the park and go home.
The professor went home as if nothing happened.
It took several days for the body to be found. It was in pretty bad shape. Jackie said, “The whole night was like a dream and I’m still not sure what the truth was and what was a hallucination. My friends blame the professor. I don’t want to believe them because I think it’s a lot more complicated than blaming someone. I just need a few minutes alone with him to convince him that its safe and it’s OK to trust me.”
When questioned, ‘Dr. I’ apparently told everyone that he went home after eating sandwiches in the park with his students, not his office and that campus security reports were mistaken (this was before sophisticated surveillance camera and building access systems existed so it was an instance of his word against theirs). Police records note that he reported his car stolen the next day.
It could not be proven that the professor was drinking with the kids or driving drunk. No breathalyzer or blood test was administrated because several days had passed before any allegations were made.
The group of students was all drunk and stoned. Their judgment and memories were considerably impaired at the time of the accident. Any testimony they offered would not be credible.
‘Dr. I’s’ lawyer consistently asserts that his client did not drink or smoke marijuana with the students and knows nothing about the incident later that evening because he was at home and his car was stolen.
Jackie loved and trusted her friends but the professor was whom her heart told her she needed to side with in the end. Her feelings and the associated confusion have been plaguing her for too long.
With tears in her eyes she asked me, “So who do you believe?”
I told her, “I honestly don’t know because I was not there and am unfamiliar with all the circumstances behind the incident. What I do know though is that you will probably be better off spending time with you Grandmother and thinking things out more before running off to Hawaii.”
She smiled and agreed, “Thanks for not judging or trying to lecture me.”
We were quiet for an hour or so before she tried the radio again and got a station with music she liked to listen to.
Motel Room in Kentucky
After about nine or ten hours of driving, several gas, bathroom and meal stops we eventually made it to the Kentucky border. The sun was setting and I decided it was best to find a room to crash in for the evening and get some sleep. We still had a long drive ahead.
I exited the highway at the next off ramp with hotels or motels. There was a Motel 6 on one side of the road and a Best Western on the other. I parked at the Best Western because the building did not appear as run down and the sign by the road said there was a free continental breakfast included in the room price. Both places advertised the same price so I figured a free breakfast for two was one less thing I had to pay for.
Before checking in and paying for the room at the front desk Jackie poked through her purse some and pulled out a card of some sort and gave it to me. It was a AAA membership card with her name on it of all things, it was long expired but she suggested, “Let see if they actually notice if it’s expired. If they don’t we may get the room at a discounted rate.”
I figured we had nothing to lose and presented the card when asking for a room.
The hotel office was just a converted room. A cheap aluminum screen door covered the entrance and the main door was open so that customers could come in. There was no carpet on the floor; it was covered with cream colored linoleum tile with pink and mint green speckles. The room smelled like floor cleaner. Instead of a double bed, nightstand and dresser the room had a counter with a computer terminal and printer in the center. A medium sized, grey shop fan was hanging from the ceiling in the far back left corner next to the bathroom entrance. It was set on high and making a lot of noise.
A faded tan couch was placed to the left of the office entrance under a picture window whose matching tan curtains were pulled closed. A very fat black and while cat was sleeping on the right side, I was not sure if it was just overweight or pregnant.
Next to the sofa there was a wooden, standard looking, circular hotel room table covered with pamphlets and maps of nearby or local tourist attractions, one being Mammoth Caves which I remembered seeing signs for on the way down to New Orleans. I took one of those to look at later.
Behind the check in counter was a young woman who looked around Jackie’s and my age, maybe a little younger. She was kind of short, probably about five foot three or four and pretty chunky, I suppose easily over one hundred pounds. She had straight greasy brown hair that hung just past her shoulders and looked like she trimmed it herself because it was uneven.
She was wearing a tight white blouse with short sleeves that looked as if the buttons on the chest would pop off at any second and an equally bad fitting blue skirt that held her oversized middle region in place, revealing way too much cellulous above the knee.
She had brown eyes and bushy almost manlike mono-brow that was in dire need of trimming. The hair on her arms that was thicker than mine. She had a five o’clock shadow on her chin. Her nametag said that her name was Betty-Sue. She had a look of boredom or disinterest on her face that made me think she would rather be anywhere else but here and could care less
if we wanted to rob the place or get a room.
Her greeting confirmed by suspicions; She sighed then moaned, “I supposed you want a room,” in a drawn out whiny kind of way, as if it was a bother for her to say anything at all.
She then told me, “Its thirty dollars a night.”
I asked, “Do you give Triple A discounts on rooms?”
She answered, “Yes. Can I see your card?”
I showed her the card, she took it and she proceeded to check us in.
It was obvious that she did not read the information on it and just continued to enter data into the system. She then inquired, “Are you paying by charge card or with cash?”
I replied, “I’ll charge it.”
She asked, “Can I see your charge card please?”
I gave her that card and she proceeded to type that information into the credit card transaction system. We all waited a minute or so for the computer systems to process the data before she responded, “With your Triple A discount the room will be twenty three dollars a night. How many nights do you two plan on staying?”
I told her, “Just one, thanks.”
She then looked up and eyed both Jackie and I, smiled to herself, then looked back down at her work. I got the impression she thought that we were just there to bang each other’s brains out or some other form of sexual debauchery.
I thought to myself, “Whatever. She can believe all she wants but that does not mean it’s the truth.”
After she finished processing all our information she instructed me, “Please sign these forms.”
I signed. She then gave me a copy of the paperwork, reached underneath the counter and handed me a key then told us, “Your room number is one forty seven. Check out time is 10AM. There’s a continental breakfast for customers set out in this office starting about 6AM every morning, if you’re interested.”
I thanked her and we left the office. The cat on the couch also left with us.
When out of earshot and heading for the room Jackie snickered then commented “What a Debbie Downer.”
I agreed and added, “If she were more focused on her job she might have noticed that your Triple A card was very much expired and that I was not the cardholder. I think she was more interested in what we might be doing in the bedroom tonight than filling out the forms properly.”
Jackie laughed again and said, “I thought that too but bit my tongue when she gave us that look. It made me want to smack her but it was not worth the trouble it would cause in the end. She’s a freekin Sasquatch and probably never been kissed by a guy let alone laid before, so what does she know. Why do people’s minds always head for the gutter when they see a guy and girl together?”
Immediately I countered, “Because most of the time that’s what’s going on. I just happen to have platonic housemates and a number of friends that are women that I spend a lot of time with so I know that looks can be deceiving.
The idea of having sex with one of my female housemates or friends, even when drunk, is just plain wrong because they are like family and that’s not what those relationships are about. I respect and value those friendships more than my fleeting lust.”
Jackie replied, “I appreciate being around men that are not just looking for sex, especially after my divorce. Being listened to and accepted without strings means a lot to me now and feels more intimate than sex.”