Zeke (2 page)

“I still think Taylor’s adorable,
but he’s a movie star. This is real life.” Sue fought a surge of irritation.

“Well, maybe I’d better drop by
Re-Books later and get a glimpse of this hunk,” Joyce teased.

Suddenly Sue realized she didn’t
want Joyce drooling all over Zeke. Not that he’d give someone like Joyce a
second glance.
Then again, he seems to be interested in me, and I’m nothing
special.
She sat back and pasted a look of concession on her face. “Well,
maybe I exaggerated just a little bit. Jeremiah is better looking.”

Joyce gave Sue look of skepticism
before changing the subject. “Why
do
you have a poetry book? I know it’s
not your thing.”

“It just looked interesting.” Sue
looked pointedly at her watch. “You’d better go or you’ll be late for
Jeremiah.”

“No chance of that happening.”
Joyce stood and slipped on her backpack. “I’m outta here.” She made for the
door, pushing her way through the crowd like a small bulldozer.

Sue flipped the book open at random
and read one of the poems. Frowning with distaste, she tossed the book aside.
Poetry couldn’t hold her attention right now; actually, poetry had never held
her attention. Instead, she anxiously anticipated her date with Zeke.

Past dating experiences had been
few, and all were disappointing. Craig Jennings, a boy at school, had come on
to her one day. She’d wanted to be prepared in case they moved to the next
step; so, with high hopes she’d visited Planned Parenthood for birth control,
her teenage dreams of passion pushing her past the embarrassment. And she had
been glad she had, because she had gone all the way with Craig, right in the
backseat of his car. And it had been horrible. Not only had the act been
unpleasant, but Craig had never asked her out again. Sue had felt humiliated,
but she’d moved on.

She had subsequently fallen for the
high school lines of hormonal boys exactly twice more, each time thinking she
must be in love, and each time used in a fumbling ungracious way and tossed
aside afterward. She kept these encounters a secret, even from Joyce; although,
Sue suspected Joyce put out to some of the guys she tutored, with hopes of
snagging a boyfriend.

Slowly, she chewed her sweet roll,
and spun fantasies about Zeke.

Unfulfilled

Sue waited for Zeke in the soft
summer darkness. He swaggered out the door of Re-Books and gave Sue a casual
nod.

“Your car or mine?” He gestured
toward a deep burgundy van.

“Either. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Sue giggled nervously, biting her lip to keep quiet.

“Let’s take mine.” Zeke walked
toward his vehicle, not waiting for her.

Hurrying to catch up, she was
disappointed when he didn’t open the door for her; but then she saw the look he
gave her as she climbed into the vehicle next to him. Her heart raced. He
exuded a sexual magnetism. Even the air seemed to be bursting with his
presence.

She was nervous and hopeful,
finding it difficult to make conversation. But he had a way of putting her at
ease, pretending not to notice her awkwardness. Chatting amiably, Zeke drove to
the Sonic for burgers.

“Damn, this is embarrassing,” he
told her with a self-effacing smile. “I seem to have forgotten my wallet.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” she rushed to
assure him. “I’ve got money.”

His eyes lingered on her face like
a caress as she handed over the cash. “I’ll pay you back,” he lied.

During their meal, Zeke drew her
out of her shell. Before long, Sue found herself talking easily with him. His
voice flowed like honey and ignited sparks under her skin; she could get lost
in the sound.

As the evening progressed, she
tortured herself with questions. Was she talking too much? Too little? Was she
coming off childish, uncool, or desperate? However, when he dropped her off at
her car he asked to see her again. He didn’t try to kiss her and she was let
down, for she had anticipated the entire time they were together how it would
feel when he touched his lips to hers.

Sue saw Zeke every chance she got.
She invited him home, but he declined.

“I don’t like the idea.” He shook
his head; frown lines creased his forehead.

“But my folks are at work; no one
would be there but us.”

“Well, you see, Sue, it’s like
this. I’m a very private person. You have neighbors, and neighbors watch their
little domains like hawks. They keep track. They notice. I hate the idea of
other people watching me. I’m sorry, it’s just a thing I have. Our relationship
will have to be our little secret.”

So, they met here and there; they spent
a lot of time in her car or his van. Zeke was always such a gentleman that she
was beginning to wonder if he was attracted to her at all. Perhaps he only
sought friendship. Maybe he was gay, she thought, momentarily disillusioned.
Their relationship seemed odd, one she wasn’t entirely happy with, but one she
wasn’t ready to give up on either.

He showed her his poems, disturbing
nonsensical things as far as she could determine, but she praised them as
insightful and brilliant. He listened endlessly to her, falling headlong into
discussions, engaged, and always attentive. At the end of each date, he kissed
her chastely on the cheek before driving off to unknown destinations, leaving
Sue unsatisfied, craving more, and hopelessly hooked. She already resented her
summer college schedule that kept her away from him. She resented both his job
and her own. The hours apart were nearly unbearable. She even resented his
demanding mother, selfishly intruding on their already limited hours together.

Several weeks into their
relationship, Sue hesitantly broached the subject of Zeke’s home life. “I
really want to meet your mom.” She watched his reaction from the corner of her
eye. They were sitting in his van near the park fountain. She took a sip from
her drink, waiting for his answer.

He stared out the windshield as if
lost in thought.

“Zeke? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” He sighed. “It’s a
bad idea, Susie. My mother is not your typical parent. I won’t expose you to
her. Believe me; I’m doing you a favor.”

“I don’t care about any of that.”
Sue spoke earnestly. “I don’t judge people. I just want to meet her.”

“Well, it’s not going to happen.”
There was a pained expression on Zeke’s face.

Sue swallowed hard and turned to
look out the window. Quietly, she asked, “Are you ashamed of me?”

Zeke immediately pulled her into an
embrace. “Oh, honey, no!” He stroked her hair with a gentle touch. “I’m ashamed
of
her
. It hurts me to talk about it. Can’t we just drop the subject?”

Sue’s heart went soft at the
affectionate name and the vulnerability in his voice. “Of course we can.” She
tipped her face upward for a kiss, but he only brushed her forehead with his
lips. Her heart, soaring seconds ago, fell at the unfulfilling touch of his
mouth against her skin.

She had wanted so badly to meet his
mother to assess the level of the woman’s power over her son. Now that she’d
gathered the courage to bring it up, Zeke refused to introduce them. It seemed
she would have to accept the situation, no matter how much it frustrated her.

She hid her feelings and decided
she’d have to find happiness in just being near him, looking into his eyes, and
listening to his voice. She told herself it was enough, but deep inside she
hungered for more. She hoped their relationship would move to the next level.
She hoped there
was
a next level.

‘Hard’ Work

The woman who demanded so much of
Zeke’s time was, in fact, not his mother. Her name was Edwina Harrington, a
wealthy socialite with a penchant for young men. Often while Sue pined for him
in her bedroom across town, Zeke was busy between the thighs of Mrs.
Harrington. Being a man with voracious appetites, he could not maintain any
kind of celibacy for long.

Zeke smiled at the thought of Sue’s
devotion to him. She was his newest project, and he was bringing her along
slowly, working her, finessing her. To what eventual end, he hadn’t yet
decided, but he knew potential when he saw it.

One thing was for sure, though; Sue
was ripe for a hard fall, a sweet apple at the height of savor, burgeoning with
readiness. The invisible bouquet of her eagerness and inexperience was a
pheromone, advertising her condition as clearly as a neon sign.

In the meantime, Mrs. Harrington
provided a roof over his head, a miserly allowance, and an outlet for his
cravings. She didn’t care what he did as long as he was available when she
wanted him. The arrangement suited him at this time.

The day was already warming when he
bounded down the stairs, grabbed a banana from the kitchen, and peeled it as he
strolled to his van in the driveway.

Mrs. Harrington called to him from
her rose garden. “Ezekiel. Aren’t you off at noon today?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said around a
mouthful of fruit. “But, I have something to do.”

“Some
thing?
Or some
one?
”
She arched an eyebrow.

Zeke paused, aggravated, refusing
to answer. She stripped the gloves from her hands and tucked them into her
pocket. She lifted a basket filled with roses and propped it on her hip.
“Cancel whatever you had planned. I need you here this afternoon.”

“Yes,
mother
,” Zeke mumbled
under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Harrington stared
hard at him.

“I said, that’s fine. I’ll be
here.”

“Good.” She smiled with superiority
and turned to enter the house.

Zeke glared at her retreating back and
defiantly tossed the banana peel into the shrubs before climbing into his van.
He’d have to cancel his lunch date with Sue.

As he backed out of the drive, he
hoped an evening event wasn’t on the agenda. Mrs. Harrington enjoyed showing
Zeke off at the country club and would dress him for the various occasions in
clothes he never would have chosen nor been able to afford. He was, at best, a
temporary pet for the wealthy widow.

A clear blue sky stretched
overhead, and the sounds of summer filled the air. A lawnmower
growled its way across a yard, kids played ball
in the park, and birds tweeted happily in the trees.

Zeke drove slowly to the bookstore,
windows down, breathing deep of the fresh morning air. He stopped at a
convenience store to buy a cappuccino, winked at the pretty clerk as he paid,
and meandered back into the sunlight. Pausing, he took a moment to appreciate
the day, especially the bold green color of the trees. Green like money.

When he arrived at Re-Books, Sue
was waiting outside, hovering. Zeke forced down his annoyance and pasted on a
smile.

“Hey, bunny. What are you doing
here?”

She walked meekly toward him, a
hopeful expression on her face. “I just wanted to say hi before class.”

“Well that’s really sweet of you.”
He looked her up and down. “You look great today. Is that a new shirt?”

Sue blushed. “Yes, I got it
yesterday. You told me purple’s your favorite color.”

Zeke slipped an arm around her
waist. “Wow. Can’t believe you remembered that.”
He stared at the ground, forcing a look of regret onto his face. “Hey, I hate
to do this, but I’m gonna have to change our lunch plans. Mother needs me to do
some repair work around the house.”

Sue choked back her disappointment
and bravely offered, “I could help.”

“Ah, Sue.” Zeke pulled his arm away
and looked pointedly at his watch. “When are you going to understand that’s not
possible? Maybe we can get together later.”

Sue stood awkwardly. “So you’ll
call me?”

“I’m gonna be late. I gotta go.”
Zeke strode to the door of the bookstore, unlocked it, and pulled it open. Over
his shoulder, he called back, “Later, Sue.” Then he disappeared inside, leaving
Sue standing on the sidewalk, arms hanging at her side. Tears stung her eyes,
but she wiped them away and walked briskly to her car.

From inside, Zeke peered out the
window and watched her reaction. He shook his head, grinned, and went to the
back to clock in.

As Zeke put the open sign in the
window and entered his code to gain access to the register, he reflected on his
situation. He hadn’t been entirely happy with the arrangement at Mrs.
Harrington’s for a while. His chief complaint was that everything had to be on
her
terms and at
her
whim. Zeke could exert no control over the old broad. She
was shrewd, mature, and totally unmoved by romantic overtures. She knew what
she wanted and got it. She was no fun because he couldn’t play her.

The manager called from the back
room, “I’m here, Zeke. Can you give me a hand carrying some books up front?”

“Sure.” Zeke hustled to assist the
man, and they worked in silence, shelving books.

The morning passed quickly. Zeke
managed to pocket an extra ten dollars when a gushing woman didn’t bother to
count her change, another victim of his charming smile.

Less than an hour after clocking
out, Zeke lounged face up and naked beside the pool. Mrs. Harrington watched
him with amusement as she massaged suntan oil onto his lower body. He felt lazy
in the hot sun and glanced around at the evergreen bushes and shrubbery that
gave them complete privacy. He was relaxed, basking in luxury.

Mrs. Harrington’s hand was bringing
him around, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Partially
obscured by the weeping willow near the corner of the house was the gardener, a
dark, quiet man named Lazlo.

“Did you know Lazlo is watching?”
Zeke squinted against the sun, checking Mrs. Harrington’s reaction.

She glanced over her shoulder, her
hand still moving rhythmically, and noticed Lazlo in the green shadows beneath
the tree.