ON A CELL PHONE, THE ADDED FEATURES (PLATFORMS, SHORT STORIES, YEAR AHEAD, ETC.) CAN BE ACCESSED FROM THE TOP LEFT HAND CORNER (STACKED LINES). ALSO, THE ‘TRANSLATE’ & WORLD CLOCK WILL APPEAR AT THE BOTTOM.
在手機上，添加的功能（平臺，短篇小說，提前一年等） 可以從左上角訪問（堆疊線）。
*** All times / dates: Please remember that all time references (e.g., “dawn”) are PDT – Pacific DAYLIGHT Time zone. You can refer to the World Clock in the sidebar for more listings or Google ‘time zone converter’.
Email: suningem@gmail.com
Tim’s YouTube links: Unveiling Astrology
Unveiling Astrology Part 2)
START NOTHING (ALL TIMES ARE PACIFIC DAYLIGHT): 5:54 pm Sun. to 7:34 am Mon., 4:32 am to 5:53 pm Wed., and 5:05 pm Fri. to 5:45 am Sat.
PREAMBLE:
Once again, I’m putting a short story at the end of this column, this time after the Afteramble. It’s called “The Paperboy.” Forgive me in advance.
***
Well, I told you last week that Elon Musk would lose his lawsuit against Sam Altman. He lost it May 18.
***
About twice a year, the doors open to really bad love — the kind where you’re obsessed, but your object of affection is cold and ultimately cruel. This is not the kind of love that provides answers; you would search for reasons why, but find only regret and rejection.
One of these “open doors” to disastrous love occurs this week — it’s strongest Thursday. Don’t be tempted.
The whole period of “bad romance” is May 18-28 — so I’m a bit late with this “notice.”
***
WEEKLY FORECAST:
ARIES: March 21-April 19
Lots of money can come your way now to June 28, Aries. Squelch the impulse to spend it — bank it or pay down debts. Spend only on one thing: real estate or domestic fixtures/improvements. Your home and family remain sweet, comfortable — and profitable. Complete and deliver paperwork soon, as June will “close the door.” Notice how conservative and serious — and yet imaginative — you are becoming. It’s a decade-log journey, and you’ve just started (early 2026). Tackle chores Sunday — you’ll make good progress. Monday dawn to suppertime Wed. (PDT) brings exciting meetings, relationships, opportunities and opposition, public and relocation themes. Early success, then bad stuff, accent potential, love’s refusal, mechanical barriers, suppertime Monday to dawn Tuesday (PDT) then success again, Tuesday daylight to Wed. This suppertime through Friday brings secrets, temptations (especially sexually) valuable information, commitment and consequence, medical and lifestyle issues, and major financial or intimate actions. It’s a mixed bag until Thursday eve — DO NOT start a new romantic affair. Friday daytime is great — invest, seek international response, commit to something or someone. Saturday’s for travel and learning.
TAURUS: April 20-May 20
The general theme embraces money and possessions, casual sex and rote learning, Taurus. You might find these themes go better than they have in some years. Your income/money is favoured now for 13 years ahead. Try sharing some, with charities, a broke aunt, etc. (Now to 2043, your career and income will hold hands; and success in career might depend on a “partnership” in some form.) You will be more assertive, even aggressive, until late June — make sure that you aren’t revealing your own weakness(es) when attacking another. Paperwork, communications remain super-important and lucky — dive in, don’t delay, for this “fortune” will end in 38 days. Sunday’s romantic, friendly and creative. Tackle chores Monday dawn to late suppertime Wednesday. Eat, dress sensibly. Monday’s pretty good, but this night (6 pm PDT) to Tuesday dawn needs extreme caution — avoid anyone who has an axe to grind. The rest of Tuesday offers a great career-partnership opening, but Wed.’s mostly empty, nil results. Wednesday suppertime (PDT) through Friday brings exciting meetings, opportunities and opposition — your luck is mixed Wed. and Thursday — avoid “love situations” and DO NOT start a new romance. Friday swims with good fortune, esp. in partnerships, relocation, contracts and agreements, career and ambitions. Saturday leads you into deeper stuff: rumours, secrets, sexual temptations, financial commitments, medical and lifestyle decisions — a pretty fair day, starting a fair weekend.
GEMINI: May 21-June 20
You’re on top, Gemini. The weeks ahead are the best all year for standing up, chasing a goal, starting a project, attracting VIP’s attention(s) and gathering allies. Your charisma, effectiveness and clout are at an annual high. You remain lucky in money, until June’s end — that good luck actually increases now to mid-June. Strictly avoid sketchy venues and belligerent individuals until June 28. (Pro athletes can excel during this time.) Your communicative talents are running fast peak efficiency. Sunday’s domestic — settle in with family, do something outside. Monday dawn (PDT) to suppertime Wed. promotes romance, creativity, risk-taking, and “organizing children” — good to suppertime Monday, then BAD to dawn Tuesday (relationships can be strained). Solutions are available Tuesday daytime to dawn Wed. Wednesday night through Friday brings work, duties to others, machines. Very mixed luck through Thursday early night. DO NOT start a love affair/attraction. Friday solves all — great good luck before suppertime (PDT) esp. in money, casual sex, work. Saturday’s for relationships, opportunities, fresh horizons — surprising before noon; intuitive, flowing after. (A good weekend — be ready to shake hands.)
CANCER: June 21-July 22
Lie low, Cancer. Avoid competitive situations. Research, seek advice, and plan future actions. Rest, deal with gov’t and “head office.” You might need to clear up something to do with money and the gov’t. Despite your weariness and leaning toward seclusion, friends come by and your “good looks” remain (until mid-June). Remember, even in this state, you’re the luckiest person in the zodiac — until June 28. (That day starts a year of money bonanzas.) You have also entered a phase (January 2024 to January 2044) in which marriage will centre around sex and finances. If single, love will bring a major lifestyle change. Sunday’s for paperwork, communications and short trips — mildly successful. Be home, available to children, cook, garden, repair, etc. Monday dawn (PDT) to suppertime Wed. Rest up, to prepare for a romantic, creative “run” that will come from Wed. suppertime through Friday. Your luck is mixed here though Thursday — DO NOT start a new amour, it would hurt later. Friday is a different story until suppertime PDT — your luck soars in romance, creative areas. A co-worker might be involved. Saturday starts a weekend of chores — and accomplishment.
LEO: July 23-Aug. 22
Your popularity climbs, Leo. The weeks ahead bring social delights, optimism, entertainment, wish fulfilment, and flirting (with fame or with a person). Your gov’t or institutional contacts remain very fortunate until June 13, and “ordinarily fortunate” until June 30. You are also under a boss’s or VIP’s thumb until June 28 — be diplomatic, don’t take too many chances in career/at work. You are slowly forming more conservative and fruitful/creative ideas about society, God, life in general. An ocean cruise will be a “turning point” in this. A Gemini might be a “perfect friend,” maybe a romantic one. Sunday is for shopping, “afternoon sex.” But quit by suppertime PDT. Perform trips, paperwork and essential communications Monday dawn to suppertime Wed. — a good, productive interval, but take care suppertime Mon. to dawn Tuesday, when others are in a rejecting mood. Head for home, at least in your heart, Wed. eve to predawn Sat. Luck is mixed Wed./Thurs., but excellent Friday — great for repairs, decorating, real estate, agri, mining stocks, and confessions. Saturday starts a weekend of romantic/creative moments, and/or sports, games. Enjoy!
VIRGO: Aug. 23-Sept. 22
The general emphasis lies on your ambitions, dealings with authorities, career, prestige relations and worldly status, Virgo, for the next four weeks. Show your skills, talents. Mix socially with big wigs. (Socializing is your magic wand until June’s end — use it!) Strictly avoid lawsuits, court before June 28. Ditto, a new love attraction. (No fulfillment, just heartache.) This month ahead might change your career direction, as many new ideas, technology, enter — and will continue to enter, for seven years. A higher-up is willing to talk, to tell the truth, this week — only. So take advantage, ask questions. Now through July, you’ll gain more from joining than from independence. Sunday, your energy and charm hit a peak. Dawn Tuesday to suppertime Wednesday brings money, buying, casual sex, rote learning — be very careful Monday night to dawn Tuesday, when a relationship can fall apart, or accident potential at work is high, especially around heat, fire and chemicals. Errands, communications and paperwork dominate Wed. suppertime through Friday. Your luck is mixed Wed./Thurs., but comes through in a big way Friday, especially in social, home, family and security zones.
LIBRA: Sept. 23-Oct. 22
The general emphasis, Libra, is on your “higher mind” — the part of you that entertains profound thoughts, travels internationally (mentally and/or physically) deals with the law, society’s rules and rituals, law, philosophy/religion, higher learning, publishing/media, and gentle love. Uranus recently moved into this sector, too stay for seven years. Uranus is your romance planet. If you’re single, true love is coming — could be in three months, could be six and a half years. But it is the greatest influence toward romance-to-marriage in your lifetime. Your career remains favoured until June’s end: higher-ups like you. You might also be tempted strongly toward engaging sexually or financially with someone. Relationships have become conservative, significant lately — and for some time to come. Lie low Sunday: rest, think, plan, be charitable. Your energy, charisma and effectiveness soar just past dawn Monday (PDT) to suppertime Wednesday. Avoid Monday eve (6 PDT) to dawn Tuesday, when rejection and cruelty are possible. But before and after this, charge ahead — you’re favoured for success. Buy/sell, embrace a sometime lover, read/listen to learn, Wed. eve through Friday. Luck is mixed Wed./Thursday. — DO NOT start a love attraction, esp. at work. Saturday’s for friends, acquaintances, trips and calls, paperwork. All’s well.
SCORPIO: Oct. 23-Nov. 21
The general accent is on secrets, research, big finances, sexual lures, medical and lifestyle decisions, Scorpio — until late June. This zone has changed, as you’ll see over the next seven years. Your interest will grow in digging deep, in the essentials of survival, and in real estate (a strong investment for you). Others will be quite assertive to June’s end, even aggressive, esp. on work fronts and around machinery. Be diplomatic, but stand your ground. No one’s ideas are better than yours. Sunday is for friends, happiness, maybe flirting. Retreat to rest and contemplate — and plan — Monday mid-morning to suppertime Wed. (All PDT). An easy interval, EXCEPT Monday suppertime to dawn Tuesday, when nothing will work right. Your energy, charm and clout soar upward Wed. night through Friday. Get out, do things, start things. Solve obstacles and pick a middle path Wed./Thurs., when your luck is mixed. DO NOT start a love relationship. Friday daytime is blessed — speak of love, or take a gamble, buy a long-distance travel ticket, apply for school, or grab a money opportunity. Saturday, chase $, buy/sell, hug a casual lover, and/or read/listen to learn something.
SAGITTARIUS: Nov. 22-Dec. 21
The general accent for the next four weeks will rest on relationships, Sage, on fresh horizons, opportunities and opposition, relocation themes, public appearances, partnership decisions (love or business) and agreements/contracts. Uranus entered this area recently, and will stay until 2033 — this spells more friendly relationships, where travel and communications play a role, and more opportunities. It also means you’ll be dealing with people who are a bit unusual, eccentric, friendly, kind, but unpredictable. These people refuse to be caught, except by the one who let’s them be free. Until late June, work will be intense — follow safety rules. Until mid-June, and really beyond, to June 30, you are fortunate in investments and sex. Be ambitious Sunday, try to raise the level of your acquaintances. Popularity, optimism, flirting, entertainment fill Monday morning to suppertime Wednesday (PDT) — all good, IF you avoid Monday night to dawn Tues. (When crisis or reaction could occur in a relationship.) Retreat, rest, avoid competitive situations, seek advice, contemplate and plan, Wed. eve through Friday. Your luck is mixed Wed./Thurs., but excellent Friday — invest, research, find truth/facts, agree to surgery, start to turn a corner in lifestyle — all good! Your energy, charisma and clout surge Saturday (and the weekend). Tell an air or fire sign how you feel!
CAPRICORN: Dec. 22-Jan. 20
The weeks ahead emphasize work, duties, daily health and machinery, Cap. This week, there might be a lot of talk about work, projects and timing. (Realize a slowdown, confusion, will enter June 28 through most of July.) Relationships and opportunities (perhaps at a distance) are your most fortunate path now through June. You can be assertive about romance until June’s end, with unexpected results that might be tied to gov’t or management types. Others treat you with grace and affection until mid-June. Sunday to dawn Monday brings a romantic, creative and risk-taking streak. Might as well dive in — all’s well. Monday morning to suppertime Wed. Highlights your ambitions, dealings with authorities, prestige relations — okay to Monday suppertime, then bad to Tuesday dawn. Later, all’s good. Wednesday eve through Friday brings popularity, social joys, flirtations, entertainment, optimism and — well, happiness. (Look at your future.) Thursday’s luck is mixed, but Friday is blessed, lucky all day to suppertime. A relationship might contain everything you want, need. Saturday starts a weekend of quietude, rest, contemplation and planning.
AQUARIUS: Jan. 21-Feb. 18
Wow. Romance. If not now (and in June) when? Anytime in the next seven years, Aquarius! This June might bring romance, but this July to July/27 might turn romance into partnership, co-habitation, joining hands and facing the world together. For “romance” you can sub creativity, teaching kids, risk-taking (and why not? you’re on a winning streak) sports and games. Still lots of work, through June. Do it; it’s lucky. Love talk this week. Careful at home — friction lies just beneath the surface until June 28. Sunday into dawn Monday offers sex, secrets, temptations, financial action, surgery, lifestyle choices — all okay, no obstacles. Monday morning to suppertime Wed. (PDT) is intellectually stimulating, open, expressive. This is a “gentle love” interval. Far travel, law, higher learning and media attract you. Beware late Monday night to dawn Tuesday — enemies, obstructions possible. Be ambitious Wednesday suppertime through Friday. But keep your energy in reserve Thursday, when luck is mixed. Friday is purely fortunate, so plunge ahead, ask for a promotion, angle for more responsibilities. Saturday starts a weekend of “celebration” — friends, popularity, flirting, optimism — fun. One caution: though this is a very romantic/creative week, strictly avoid chasing a brand new object of your affections anytime up to and including Thursday.
PISCES: Feb. 19-March 20
The main accent lies on your home and family until late June, Pisces. Lots of discussion among family members this week. Your home/family will undergo pretty noticeable changes for the next seven years. More guests, renovations to “open space,” turning home into a spa or refuge, etc. You will speak rather rapidly and assertively now to June 28 — same period, drive defensively. Your luckiest path, now to June’s end, is romance, creativity, raising kids — especially now to mid-June. Sunday to dawn Monday features relationships and possible opportunities. Monday morning to suppertime Wed. (PDT) opens the door to secrets, valuable information, financial actions and sexual temptations. A good interval, if you avoid Monday eve to dawn Tuesday, when cruelties arise. (Another warning: don’t start a brand-new love this week before Friday.) Wednesday eve through Friday brings a welcome mellowness, as you contemplate big ideas, big things. Your luck here is mixed Wed./Thurs., but spreads its wings to real, solid good luck Friday daytime (before supper, PDT) — so buy a plane ticket, apply for school, start a lawsuit or media venture — Friday. Saturday starts a weekend of ambition, deigns with bosses and authorities, worldly status — all fine, all okay, nothing spectacular.
THE END.
AFTERAMBLE:
I think the Christians who say that you can only access God through Jesus Christ, might be committing a sin.
They have made Christ a symbol, a key, as the only way to get to heaven, without having to directly deal with God. You are discouraged, even forbidden by Christians to talk/deal directly with God. “Only through Christ” is their favourite phrase. This is idolatry, condemned by the Bible.*
Today’s Jesus is a golden cow or sacred calf, a fetish that allows worshippers to go to God. In my opinion, there should be no separation of God and man. And yet I would be called a sinner if I didn’t pray to Jesus exclusively — praying to God is not allowed by these Christians. All these churches, filled with statues of Mary and Joseph and Christ, wounds and blood everywhere, a glowing purple heart on Jesus’ chest, are these not fetishes? Icons? Idols?
That’s not to disparage Christ. He was probably the greatest religious/spiritual leader to ever exist on earth, and by his miracles and parables, he really did seem to be the hand of God — or of aliens.
(*) There is another piece of arrogance and usurpation buried in this idolatry: Christ is not even known to perhaps a billion people. So only those who knock on Christ’s specific door, get into heaven? Bullshit.
***
These stories that I’m putting on this blog (second one below, “The Paperboy”) — I don’t see them as overly violent or graphic or anything. Please forgive my writing or typos. I hate editing, re-writing.
***
Apple’s Calendar app lists Mother’s Day in May — in fact, prints it twice on the calendar, so you don’t miss it. What IS missing is Father’s Day — not a mention on the June calendar. So what gives? Are only women deserving of praise, of a calendar day? Are men chimpanzees who do nothing? Or have they moved Father’s Day, to another month?
Reminds me of when I was a single dad (kids were 2, 4 and 6 years). I would take my two youngest to “Moms and Tots,” a gov’t/community service to talk about the kids and let them socialize with other kids. This was in the late 1980’s. I abandoned going after awhile. The women in the group shunned me from the outset because I was a man.
***
Just looked at David Bowie’s chart — 17 degrees Capricorn Sun, 3 Leo Moon, and 3 Aquarius rising. Each of these degrees speaks of creativity and musicality. I’ll quote Carelli: 17 Cap = “a suggestive expression, an artistic if not poetic style, a well-pitched voice and an inborn musicality.” 3 Leo = “an extremely lively but unruly imagination.” 3 Aquarius = Symbol: “As the olive, when broken in the mill oozes sweet oil, so let your broken heart bleed a song that redeemed, uplifts your will.”
Notice that Bowie’s Moon is exactly opposite his ascendant (Leo-Aquarius, 3 degrees each). The Moon in the 7th is an indication of a public figure.
Now, who says astrology doesn’t work?
***
PAPERBOY
A short fiction by Tim
“The Times. Collecting,” he said to intercom # 1007.
“Come up.”
“I’m not supposed to.”
“Come up anyway. I can’t go out.”
Elevator. Carpeted hallway. When he knocked at 1007, she called him — “The door’s open! Come in!”
He entered. The door was heavy on its hinges, opened smoothly.
“In here,” she called. He found her sitting on a big, high bed, in a bright blue housecoat with white fancy fringes. She looked abstracted, thinking of something. He stood, hands clasped before him, holding his aluminum collection binder.
“It’s two-fifty, ma’am.” He was thirteen, almost fourteen.
She could have just paid him and sent him on his way, which he was comfortably expecting. But she remained sitting on the bed for too long a moment.
I am very soft, the woman’s skin whispered: older and rich with something mysterious. (He could only see her wrists, neck and face, and shins, ankles; the rest was hidden under the quilted shiny housecoat.)
“Yes! Your money!” She exclaimed.
She flew off the bed and into the kitchen. He saw a calendar on a slice of kitchen wall.
He felt impatient. Oddly tricked and impatient. He snapped back to business. He had twenty-three more collections to do — about a third. Collecting was a real pain, but he liked feeling the cash accumulating in wads in his pocket. He felt disappointed, an empty feeling, when someone gave him a check, or had paid at the newspaper’s office.
She came from the kitchen, so he held out his hand, but she sat on the bed again.
“It’s two-fifty, Ma’am.”
Her face shone silvery in the window light, creamed and smooth like his mother’s after she rubbed white goo into it. But he knew nothing about her, nothing at all, except that she was in a housecoat, it was almost noon (with a cool April breeze he felt even in here) and she had asked him into her bedroom — which, he had judged approvingly when he first stepped in, was quite clean. He disapproved of her lack of propriety. Yet at the same time another feeling was slowly filling him, like a quiet, warm bath.
He didn’t think she was very smart. She must be depressed, he thought. Why else would she stay in bed all day and not come down to the lobby to pay him? She obviously wasn’t physically sick.
Yet when he gazed at her again, he stopped thinking.
“Are you okay?” he asked, as she had not moved, and he was beginning to sway on his feet.
“No. No, no. I have your money right here — somewhere.” She stood and began digging in a dresser’s drawers.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I can come later.” He turned to go, to go swiftly.
“Sit down,” she said, teeth holding a pencil.
He sat. The chair was velvet and soft, like a pillow. He watched her anxiously, worried for her that she wouldn’t find the money.
“It’s OK,” he said, ready to leave.
“Here you go.” She waved a small envelope in triumph.
He stood up, stepped to the bed, and took it.
“Thank you. See you later!” he said.
But she held him with her eyes. “What did you mean when you said it’s OK?” She stared into his eyes with something he didn’t understand, and he felt off balance, like he was floating toward her. He took a step back. His eyes wandered quickly over the bedroom and what he could see of the clean bare kitchen with its curtains and sunlight.
He sat down, then stood up again, quickly.
“I should go.”
“Did you mean ITS okay?” She said it with the same something in her eyes. She glanced down: “I saw you.” Her eyes almost twinkled. “There.”
He didn’t know what she meant.
“There!” She said with mild coaxing.
Then she made a gesture, as if waving off the whole subject, but there was a slowness that seemed to hint at the opposite. It made his head swim with uncertainty.
She lay on the bed, propping her back with pillows. She stared straight at him, poker faced.
“I’ve been depressed.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, goodbye!”
“So it means nothing to you?”
“I’m…not sure.”
Puzzled, he stood near the hallway door.
“Come here, please.” She patted the edge of the shiny pink satiny bed cover. He came slowly, and sat hesitantly and waited, willingly, because this room, this sunlight, this situation spelled a kind of unknown adventure — and even maybe more, secrets about women. Bits of sunlight swayed on the bed.
He had his collection money, so he sat, eyes wide.
He felt her fingers on his neck.
In the weeks following, they could often be seen at local cafes and sandwich shops. Many assumed they were mother and son, although they speculated that she had been a teenage mother, or he was adopted. Those few who knew her in the neighbourhood, and had never seen her with a husband or a son, shut their mouths like prison doors, in disapproval. She forebode him to touch her in public or show any affection.
One day two policemen and a policewoman came to their little round table on the sunny, green-leafed sidewalk. After a brief conversation, the two men escorted Marina — for that was her name — into a black car. The policewoman stayed to talk to him, but Tony sidestepped her and jumped to the car. From its darkened interior, Marina looked at him with strange grief, then forcibly away. The policewoman with her heavy belts took his arm as the arresting car slid into traffic, and steered him back to his table.
She wrote his name and address and asked a few questions: How long have you known this lady? Is she nice to you? How would you describe your relationship? Your mother says you haven’t spent the night at home quite a few times. Did you spend these nights with Marina? — all of which he answered with hums and umms.
“I’ll drive you home,” she said. “Your mother is waiting for you.”
“Okay. But — who’ll pay the bill?”
“Forget it.”
“Did she steal something?”
The policewoman looked at him. “Yes.”
“What?”
She didn’t answer.
He frowned, puzzled.
He swung out of his chair and stepped toward the curb. “Well?” his eyes said as he waited for her. But as the policewoman opened the door of her cruiser for him, he ran. Just impulse, just adventure. He turned into the nearest alley and rocketed a few blocks with the sheer joy of running, until his sides ached. When he looked back, the cop was nowhere. In his neighbourhood, cops were usually the enemy.
He walked the remaining five blocks to home. He’d skipped most classes and most of home for two weeks, but delivered his paper route. His mother said little. She worked full time, and cooked, and had no time for any child but her youngest. She watched him as he came in.
That night, lying in bed with the moon slicing the curtains into bright and dark slats, he felt his heart swell with an almost liquid sorrow — for Marina, but also for himself, losing — everything — and anger that he didn’t know what to do. He began to plan. First, he envisioned the streets, the one she lived on, the one of the cafe, then jail cells, then her apartment, then his house and what was in it, knives in a kitchen drawer, a big chain in the basement, hammers, ropes…. Somewhere there must be a way, a clue.
In the morning the idea obsessed him. As he cycled through his 5 am paper route he began to see the houses, the yards and apartment buildings differently, looking for flaws, or places to hide her or places to rob, to feed her… School? Oh yes, dress, books, school.
Maybe if she had to stay in prison she could slip him the keys to her apartment and he could go live there or hide there.
School! He sat back on his bike seat. School! What strange thing was school?
On his bike, at lunchtime he wandered from the school fields.
At the jail downtown, they wouldn’t let him visit her. He had to give his name. “Sorry,” the clerk said, “You’re a witness. You can’t visit. Go home, son.” Although she wore a tan police shirt, she worked behind a glass window.
“Yes, well I’ll never be a witness,” he said reasonably and softly. “I’ll never say a damn thing.” He glared at her. But he really wanted to burst into tears. How could they?
“Will she be out soon?”
“Probably, in awhile.” He walked away, then returned: “What do you mean, in awhile?”
“She’ll probably get bail, then she’ll have to return for her trial. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
When he returned home, a strange female, adult but young, elegantly sexy, sat on the ratty couch in the living room. His mother stood in the hall doorway.
“You must be Tony.”
“Yes.”
“Your Mom is okay if you want to come and talk with me for awhile. Would you like to? I can buy you a coffee or pop.”
“Why?”
“We feel you might have suffered a loss, or a…we’re a little concerned and want to make sure you feel good about everything. Are you game?”
“Okay.”
As they sat in a cafe on Fraser Street, she said, “I thought you’d feel more comfortable with your Mom not around. Was I right?”
He didn’t answer.
“The lady you were involved with, was she kind?”
“I guess.” Then he caught himself: “What lady?”
“Do you feel you’re betraying her by talking to me?”
“Are you the police?”
“No, my job is to help you feel better.”
“Are you a social worker?”
“Yes.”
The cafe had a red and white striped awning.
“So then you could testify in court?” He asked. “About this?”
“Yes, although that’s not the reason I’m visiting you.”
“What’s the reason?”
“To be a friend. A listener, a sounding board. I only want to help you.” She stared at him softly, kindly, and he appreciated that. It started to intrigue him.
But he was still angry, at her, at that woman cop and the jail clerk and the whole cabal.
So he said,“If you really want me to feel better, take me to your place and take off that shirt.”
“Why do you want that?”
“Why do you think?” He stared at the swells in her blouse, then at her eyes. The street murmured in the light blue pastel twilight.
“No, I don’t know why. Tell me.”
“Be with you,” he said awkwardly.
“Don’t you think that’s an inappropriate thing to say?” But he noticed that she waited until he’d said it quite plainly, looking hungrily at her breasts, before she found it ”inappropriate.” This gave him a spoonful of bravado, so he said,
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty experienced. She didn’t seduce me. I seduced her — actually, I held a knife to her throat until she…” He stared at the social worker’s twenty-something breasts. “I raped her so many times that finally she gave in and began to want me. It was the Stockholm Syndrome. So you tell that to those cops. When I’m a witness, I’ll tell them that.”
She thought for a minute, stirring her coffee. The end of his milkshake grumbled like a dying car.
“Can I go home now?”
“I’ll drive you,” she said.
“No thanks.”
“Well, I think we should set up another meeting. Would Tuesday after school be okay? Do you want to come to my office? Look, here’s my card. It’s on Broadway — only a few blocks from your school. I’ll be there from 3 to 5.”
He left, imagining her naked breasts in her social worker office.
Maybe he could save more money from his paper route. He already had over $ 100 in the Royal Bank. He had no idea what Marina had. At the same time, now, he fantasized about the social worker, opening her blouse, seeing the wool of her skirt, her thighs.
He felt all his energy flow away; he sank to sit on the curb. He sat there until night pocketed the day and a few poor stars battled the city lights.
He had noticed at school when he watched the teenage girls now, and thought about the pretty ones, he wondered, speculated in a different way than he used to.
Marina was out on bail, but not allowed to see him. She said almost nothing on the phone. She repeatedly told him to stay away. She said he had ruined her life.
But I know how to win the court case, he said.
Finally he convinced her to meet him at night in a park near by. In the dark, they sat on a wooden bench and he explained how he’d say he raped her, and the Stockholm Syndrome. She breathed, anxious and exhausted. Her cheeks were drawn, her eyes sunken into their sockets.
“Why are they doing this to me?” she said.
“You just agree with what I’m going to tell them, okay? Tell you — do you have a lawyer? Is that what you do? Tell your lawyer too, tell everyone, that I came in to collect for the paper, then I grabbed a knife from your kitchen and raped you at knifepoint. Okay? Marina, okay? Please, okay?”
“I — I need to think. — They would throw you in jail!”
He went to his knees on the grass and pressed his face into her thighs. She wiggled a bit, so he wiggled his face into her soft lap, rooting and sniffing.
“Please leave me alone. Please.”
He rose and squeezed his legs around her thigh, pressing his erection against her.
“No! We can’t, ever. We can’t ever again. We can’t be together. I could be in jail for 20 years!”
“I won’t let them, Marina. Just use my plan. Marina! Where are you? Where are you going?”
“I’m right here!”
“But you’re going, I can feel it. You’re leaving me in your mind. Don’t go. Marina! Oh fuck.”
“Go. Just GO.” He didn’t move. “Okay, we can talk in one week, but over there under the big tree. Same time. That bench, there,” she pointed. It was in deep shade, no streetlight invaded. “Go.”
“Okay.” He left, his crotch wet.
A week later, she didn’t show up. His calls went unanswered.
Some months later, a girl a grade below him started to show, flirt, talk to him. Cindy. Cindy. He rolled it around in his mind. Cindy!
But as they talked, him shy, she with girlish laughter, he saw in his mind, a few times, Marina’s thick, rich thighs.