| 
   
Princes of Mannsborough, Part 11 
 
  
by
  Vulgar Argot
 
  
(MF, rom)
 
  
 
 
  
"What are you doing
  here?" 
Thule
  asked, sounding weary and resigned.
 
  
 
 
  
"You don't answer your
  e-mail," Maya replied, "You don't log on to instant messenger or,
  if you do, you do so in stealth mode. I wanted to talk to you."
 
  
 
 
  
"I have a phone,"
  
Thule
 pointed
  out.
 
  
 
 
  
"Would I have had any
  better luck?" Maya asked.
 
  
 
 
  
By way of answer, 
Thule
 said, "I've
  been busy."
 
  
 
 
  
"With
  Mari-go-old?" Maya said the name like a taunt.
 
  
 
 
  
"With Ivan Vandevoort,
  if you must know," said 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"Are you going to
  invite me in?" asked Maya, "or maybe you'd like to hold me here at
  gunpoint while we chat."
 
  
 
 
  
"I'm through with
  you," said 
Thule
,
  his voice gravelly, "You crossed the line this time."
 
  
 
 
  
"I cross a lot of
  lines," said Maya, "For instance, I got a ride from the bus station
  and had them drop me off here, so you're stuck with
  me until morning."
 
  
 
 
  
"Wait here," 
Thule
 said, turning his
  back on her and walking to his room. She followed him, then
  sat down on the bed, Indian-style. She was dressed in black jeans and a black
  turtleneck. 
Thule
  ignored her, taking the clip out of the pistol and putting the pistol in the
  top drawer of his dresser. Then, he started to get dressed.
 
  
 
 
  
Maya pouted and stretched,
  "What are you getting dressed for? You're just going to have to get all
  undressed again."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 zipped up his pants, "What the fuck are you
  talking about?"
 
  
 
 
  
"
Thule
," Maya said, her face getting
  all soft, her chin quivering a little, "I want you back."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 laughed unkindly and pulled on a t-shirt,
  "After three years? Why now? And what makes you think I want you
  back?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I felt the way you
  fucked me in 
New York
,"
  said Maya, "you couldn't wait to come inside of me. You didn't last five
  minutes once you woke up."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 scowled, "I wasn't worked up. I just wanted it
  to be over. Get up."
 
  
 
 
  
"Ooh," said Maya,
  "I like being ordered around. Where would you like me to
  stand...master?" The last word was mockery, a challenge.
 
  
 
 
  
"I want you to
  walk," said 
Thule
  "out to the car. I'm driving you back to the bus station."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya's eyes widened in mock
  fear and surprise, "The bus station at two AM. Ooh, good plan, my brave,
  little soldier. There are no buses until six-oh-five. That'll give the hoboes
  a good four hours to get their hands on me before I go home."
 
  
 
 
  
"Fine," said Thule, "I'll drive you all the way back to 
New York
, then."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya, who had started to
  rise, sat back down again, "I won't go."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 growled, "You will go."
 
  
 
 
  
"Gonna
  make me?" asked Maya.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 sat down at his desk, pointed his webcam at the
  bed, and set it to record. Then, he said, "If I have to."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya lay down flat on her
  back, stretching her arms over her head, "What are you going to do? Drag
  me by my hair. You know, when you didn't stop Randy Vandevoor
  from raping me, I almost got away, but he caught me by that long hair that
  you loved so much and dragged me back into his room."
 
  
 
 
  
"You're a fucking
  psycho," opined 
Thule
,
  "This is your last warning, Maya. Get up and get out or I will carry you
  out of here by force."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya reached down and
  stripped off her t-shirt. She was reaching around to undo her bra when 
Thule
 shouted,
  "What the fuck are you doing?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I honestly
  believe," Maya said, a tear rolling down her cheek, "that you would
  do it. You would pick me up off this bed and jam me into that piece of shit
  car of yours. So, I thought it might make for a better show if I stripped
  naked and screamed 'rape' all the way across the yard."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
's laughter was downright cruel, "Come on,
  Maya. You never cried 'rape.' Three years and you haven't said a goddamned
  word about it to anybody that mattered, not the cops, not your parents.
  Besides, you haven't been raped. There are no bruises on you. You're not full
  of come."
 
  
 
 
  
"How do you
  know?" Maya asked, unzipping her pants, "Maybe I fucked the guy who
  gave me a ride over. Maybe, I called Randy Vandevoort and told him how much I
  missed having him ram his big cock up my virginal ass without even spit for
  lube. He's bigger than you, you know--a lot bigger."
 
  
 
 
  
"So," asked 
Thule
, "how do you
  talk to guys you're not trying to get back?"
 
  
 
 
  
"About the same,"
  said Maya, laughing and lying back to pull her pants off.
 
  
 
 
  
"Stop taking your
  clothes off," said 
Thule
,
  "In five minutes, you are leaving this house, clothed or unclothed,
  willing or unwilling. If you scream 'rape,' the police will come and take me
  away. I will spend the night in jail. When it turns out you haven't been
  raped recently, they will let me out and put you in jail, probably for a long
  time. Even if they don't, they'll eventually figure out that you're
  completely around the bend and lock you away for good in a rubber room."
 
  
 
 
  
"All I need is one
  night," said Maya, "one night with you or one night without you.
  Either will serve."
 
  
 
 
  
"What the fuck are you
  babbling about?" asked 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"78," Maya sang,
  "17-45-26-91."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 recognized the combination to his safe immediately,
  "Maya, what the hell are you up to?"
 
  
 
 
  
Maya lay back on the
  pillows, completely naked now and spread her legs, exposing the curly black
  hair between her cafe-au-lait thighs, "Better not to find out, lover.
  Now, come to bed."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 looked at Maya, lying there and undulating, one
  hand caressing herself between her legs, the other pinching her own nipple.
  She was already starting to get off on the combination of pleasure and pain.
 
  
 
 
  
"One night?"
  asked 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"One night," said
  Maya, "then you can go back to Florita if you like."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 crouched in his closet, unzipping the duffel bag on
  the floor. Maya looked up a little, "What are you doing?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 answered, "Just looking for something in my
  bag of toys, dear."
 
  
 
 
  
"I'm not going to let
  you tie me up," said Maya, "If you try, I'll scream."
 
  
 
 
  
"What?" asked 
Thule
, pulling out and
  brandishing the waterproof rope, "I thought you liked being tied
  up."
 
  
 
 
  
"I like being tied
  up," acknowledged Maya, "I do not like being tied up and left until
  morning."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 cursed under his breath, then
  said out loud, "Have it your way. Hey, do you remember the orgasm
  mitt?"
 
  
 
 
  
Maya sat up, "No. What
  orgasm mitt?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 held up one hand with an oven mitt on it,
  "Wasn't it you I used the orgasm mitt on? It was one of my
  girlfriends."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya examined it from a
  distance, "What makes it an orgasm mitt? It looks like an ordinary oven
  mitt."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 came over to the bed, "Lie back," he
  said. Maya did.
 
  
 
 
  
He layed
  the mitt on her stomach, stroking little circles out from her navel. Almost
  immediately, Maya began to writhe in pleasure. "Touch yourself,"
  he ordered. Maya did. 
Thule
  rubbed his way up Maya's ribs and into her cleavage with the glove. Maya
  started to moan tremulously. 
Thule
  stroked one breast, then the other with it. Maya gasped with the pleasure.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 lay down on the bed next to her, still stroking one
  breast, then the other. He got his face right down next to her ear and
  demanded, "Come for me, Mayita."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya started to moan. 
Thule
 let her moan
  three times, then put the mitt over her face, just
  in time for her to inhale deeply. He could see by her face that she
  recognized the smell of chloroform a split second too late. She tried to
  struggle, but 
Thule
  pushed the mitt into her face. In a few seconds, she lay
  still, the rise and fall of her breast the only motion.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 moved quickly, putting Maya's clothes back on her,
  picking her up, cradled in his arms, and carrying her out to the car.
  Compared to him, she was so tiny that it looked like he was carrying a
  sleeping child. He put her in the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt.
  Running back into the house, he retrieved a few items. When he came back,
  Maya was still out cold.
 
  
 
 
  
This late at night, it was
  about forty-five minutes to the city from 
Thule
's house. He was five minutes from the
  Holland Tunnel when Maya started to stir. She looked up at him, bleary eyed.
  It seemed to take a couple of minutes for recognition to kick in, "Oh, 
Thule
," she said,
  "I'm so sorry." Then, she started crying, big, wet tears that
  splashed when they landed.
 
  
 
 
  
"It's okay," said
  
Thule
,
  "It's going to be okay."
 
  
 
 
  
"What happened?"
  Maya asked.
 
  
 
 
  
"I chloroformed
  you," said 
Thule
  matter-of-factly, "And now I'm taking you home." He handed her a
  bottle of water, "Drink this. You must be thirsty."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya took the bottle,
  nodding and drank deeply.
 
  
 
 
  
"Now," asked 
Thule
, "are you
  going to behave yourself or do I need to drug you again?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I'll behave,"
  said Maya. Her voice was raspy and the fight seemed to have gone out of her.
 
  
 
 
  
"Maya, you need to get
  help."
 
  
 
 
  
"I know, 
Thule
. I know."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 drove through the toll booth, watching Maya like a
  hawk while he paid, but she seemed wrapped up in her own world now, staring
  ahead, glassy-eyed.
 
  
 
 
  
"Where do you live
  now?" 
Thule
  asked.
 
  
 
 
  
"Just drop me off at
  Port Authority," said Maya, sounding miserable. They drove in silence
  halfway through the tunnel. Then, she said, "I saw him today."
 
  
 
 
  
"Who?" asked 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"My little boy,"
  said Maya, "I found out where he was and I went to go see him. I didn't
  approach. Nobody knew I was there. They've got him."
 
  
 
 
  
"Maya," snapped 
Thule
, trying to break
  her out of her trance, "fewer pronouns. Who has him?"
 
  
 
 
  
"The
  Vandevoorts," said Maya, dully, "Ivan Vandervoort's cousin adopted
  my little boy."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
's face was ashen, "Maya, I'm so sorry."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya looked out her window
  as the tunnel opened up into the city, "I guess I went a little nuts after that. I'm so sorry, 
Thule
."
 
  
 
 
  
"Maya," 
Thule
 said, his voice filled with hard compassion, "I can't see
  you anymore. You need to get help."
 
  
 
 
  
"I know and I
  know," said Maya. "Trust me. I'm as disgusted by my behavior as you
  are."
 
  
 
 
  
"I'm not
  disgusted," said 
Thule
,
  "only incredibly concerned. Please tell me you'll get help."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya nodded, "Soon.
  There are some things I need to take care of. Then, maybe, when I get the
  money..."
 
  
 
 
  
"Marigold's stepfather
  will take care of the money," said 
Thule
.
  "When you're ready, let me know and we'll get you help."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya didn't answer for a
  long time. Then, she said, "I won't be bought, 
Thule
. You, of all people, should know
  better than..."
 
  
 
 
  
"You've got nothing
  left to sell, Maya," said 
Thule
  quietly. "This isn't in exchange for anything. This is because Marigold
  and I want you to get the help you need."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya wept quietly. After a
  minute, 
Thule
  reached over and stroked her hair with the back of his hand. The look of
  gratitude she gave him was almost enough to break his heart.
 
  
 
 
  
As they emerged from the
  tunnel, 
Thule
  looked around, "Are you sure I can't take you somewhere to get
  help?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Take me to
  twenty-third and eighth," Maya said. "I'm staying with a friend for
  the time being."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 drove her downtown in silence. When they got to the
  corner, Maya asked, "Can I e-mail you, if I promise not to get all
  crazy?"
 
  
 
 
  
Against his better judgment,
  
Thule
 said,
  "You understand that I can't always write back right away." He
  wanted to be free of her, but he didn't want her to just disappear, unmissed
  and unmourned. To some degree, however small, she was still his problem.
 
  
 
 
  
Maya nodded, "Thank
  you, 
Thule
.
  You're a real gentleman."
 
  
 
 
  
"That's me," said
  
Thule
,
  "Sir Bartholomew of Chloroform." Then, he got out of the car, came
  around Maya's side, opened her door, and gave her a balancing hand out. As
  she rose up out of the car, Maya fell against 
Thule
 into a hug. He held her there, his
  arms around her.
 
  
 
 
  
Maya tilted her head back,
  "Rape, rape," she said in a stage whisper, much too low for anyone
  but 
Thule
 to
  hear.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 released her, "You really are fucking nuts. You
  know that?"
 
  
 
 
  
"And you're better
  than she deserves," said Maya, "Good night, 
Thule
. Thank you for the ride."
 
  
 
 
  
After that, 
Thule
 drove uptown for
  a while, eventually pulling into a parking space to use his cell phone to
  find a twenty-four hour office supply store that would sell him a new safe.
 
  
 
 
  
                             -=-
 
  
 
 
  
After transferring the
  contents of the old safe to the new safe, 
Thule
 fell into a deep slumber. It took a
  good half hour of loud music emanating from one of his computers to rouse
  him. He grumbled mightily, but since he was already dressed and had done so
  earlier that morning, decided it wasn't the end of the world. He gave himself
  a quick washcloth bath, changed his shirt, and headed out.
 
  
 
 
  
Dawn bounced into the car
  and rubbed the top of 
Thule
's
  head, "Good morning," she said briskly.
 
  
 
 
  
"You're chipper
  today," said 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"I was up half the
  night, talking to my girlfriend," said Dawn in a singsong.
 
  
 
 
  
"She's your
  girlfriend, now, is she?" asked 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"She said she wants to
  be," said Dawn, "We have a date for this weekend."
 
  
 
 
  
"So," asked 
Thule
, in his best
  "dishy" voice, "Where are you going?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Um, nowhere,"
  said Dawn, mocking him, "that's sort of what being in the closet
  means."
 
  
 
 
  
"So," said 
Thule
, as if he'd made
  a great discovery, "by 'date,' you mean, 'sweaty, lesbian
  sexfest.'" Dawn flushed bright red and didn't answer, "Sounds like
  a pay-per-view event."
 
  
 
 
  
"This is a private
  show," said Dawn, "Nobody gets to view, no matter how much they
  pay."
 
  
 
 
  
"What if I just ask
  real nice?" asked 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said Dawn,
  "besides, why would you want to watch a couple of hideous girls have
  sex?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Oh," said 
Thule
, "you didn't
  tell me she was hideous, too. I thought I could just block my vision of you
  and watch her. But, I guess if she's a lesbian, she's probably got a hairy
  back and wears flannel everywhere."
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said Dawn,
  getting a faraway look in her eyes, "actually, she's beautiful. And
  you're a cretin."
 
  
 
 
  
"Hmmmm," said 
Thule
, "do we have
  any beautiful cheerleaders at Mannsborough? Some of them are pretty homely...well, some of them rise to homely. Most are pretty
  hideous."
 
  
 
 
  
"This is why women get
  eating disorders," lectured Dawn, "unrealistic standards of
  beauty."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
's stomach grumbled audibly. "Sorry," he
  said, "I skipped breakfast."
 
  
 
 
  
"Long night?"
  asked Dawn.
 
  
 
 
  
"Off the record,"
  said 
Thule
,
  "one of the longest in my life."
 
  
 
 
  
"Want to share?"
  asked Dawn.
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said 
Thule
 emphatically,
  then softer, "but thank you."
 
  
 
 
  
"Want a banana?"
 
  
 
 
  
"What?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I've got a banana in
  my lunch," said Dawn, "you can have it if you like."
 
  
 
 
  
"Thanks," said 
Thule
, "that would
  help a lot. I'll get you another one before lunch."
 
  
 
 
  
"You don't have
  to," said Dawn, handing it over, "I only ask one favor in
  return."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 split the top of the peel with his thumbnail,
  "Name it."
 
  
 
 
  
Dawn's grin was broad and
  evil, "I want to watch you eat it."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 chomped off the top of the banana, chewed it up,
  and swallowed it, "Get pay-per-view."
 
  
 
 
  
Dawn stuck out her tongue,
  "Spoilsport."
 
  
 
 
  
At Marigold's house, 
Thule
 bounded up the
  path and rang the doorbell. Marigold came to the door and followed him up the
  path. Impulsively, halfway to the car, he turned, wrapped his arms around her
  waist, and kissed her full on the mouth.
 
  
 
 
  
"I love you, Marigold
  Tarr," he said quietly, "and I take back what I said about you
  being as crazy as Maya."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold looked puzzled,
  "When did you ever say that?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Well," said 
Thule
, "I may
  never have said it out loud."
 
  
 
 
  
Dawn honked the horn at
  them. 
Thule
  bounded up the path.
 
  
 
 
  
"Wait a second,"
  Marigold called after him. "Did you just tell me you loved me?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 turned and nodded. Marigold smiled, "I thought
  so."
 
  
 
 
  
In the car, Marigold
  wrapped her arms around Thule's neck and
  kissed his cheek, "
Thule
  just told me he loved me."
 
  
 
 
  
"Well, duh," said
  Dawn, "I've known that since the first day I saw you two together."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 and Marigold turned to each other and burst out
  laughing. Dawn looked at them, puzzled. 
Thule
  spoke first, "In that case, you knew before we did."
 
  
 
 
  
                                 -=-
 
  
 
 
  
"You're in a good mood
  this morning," observed Oksana.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 shut his locker, slapping his lock on and spinning
  the wheel. He was, he realized, deliriously happy--sleep-deprived, but happy.
  As bad as the scene with Maya had been, the break with her had been like
  dropping a lodestone from around his neck. It had also made him realize that
  he really did love Marigold, no matter how their relationship had started. He
  smiled, "What gave it away?"
 
  
 
 
  
"That odd curvature
  around the edges of your mouth," said Oksana, "It looks like you're
  smiling, but lacks the general malice you radiate when you do smile. I've
  only seen you smile like that once before." She looked around
  conspiratorially, "Did you get into MIT again?"
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said 
Thule
, "although I
  do believe I'll be able to pay--for the first year, anyway."
 
  
 
 
  
Oksana bounced up and down,
  wrapping 
Thule
  in a congratulatory hug, "You sold your software? Congratulations."
 
  
 
 
  
"Actually," said 
Thule
, hugging her
  back, "it was more of a finder's fee sort of deal."
 
  
 
 
  
Rocking back on her heels,
  Oksana said, "Well, whatever you did, congratulations. That's got to be
  a huge weight off of your mind."
 
  
 
 
  
"It is," said 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
After she had walked away,
  Randy Vandevoort, who had been lurking off to one corner of the hall,
  chatting up a freshman girl, strutted over to 
Thule
, "So," he said, by way of
  introduction, "my old man says that you're Jonas Tarr's new
  favorite."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 shrugged, "I suppose I am."
 
  
 
 
  
"Word to the
  wise," said Randy, "be a little more discreet when dipping your
  beak. Girls like Tarr, they can be a real pain if
  they see something like that."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 took out his pack of cigarettes and packed them
  against the back of his hand in short violent motions while he thought about
  his answer. Finally, he said, "Thanks for the heads up, but I got it
  covered. She won't care about that one."
 
  
 
 
  
Randy seemed to consider
  the statement, then said, "You know, my old man
  keeps telling me I should marry Tarr, but she always seemed like too much of
  a cold fish."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 chuckled ruefully, "Plenty of fish, if that's
  what you want." He worried that the allusion was too subtle for Randy,
  but apparently, its crudeness got the point across.
 
  
 
 
  
"Yeah," said
  Randy, slapping 
Thule
  broadly on the shoulder, laughing harshly, "You're all right,
  Roemer."
 
  
 
 
  
Once Randy was gone, 
Thule
 breathed a heavy
  sigh of relief. He'd received Randy's blessing. He was in. Now, all of the
  rules had changed.
 
  
 
 
  
           
              -=-
 
  
 
 
  
Several other times during
  the course of the day, Randy made some gesture of approval towards 
Thule
--a wave, a nod of
  the head, a smile. 
Thule
  wondered how many of these subtle signals he'd missed over the years. He
  doubted that anything had been said, but by the end of the day, people who
  hadn't spoken to him since he quit the track team were coming up, patting him
  on the back, acting like there hadn't been a three and a half year
  interruption in the conversation. 
Thule
,
  for his own part, behaved like he was glad and at least a little bit grateful
  to be back. Mostly, though, he acted like he deserved it. Soon enough, so did
  everyone else.
 
  
 
 
  
After his last class, Dawn
  met him coming out the side door on his way to the car, "Boy," she
  said, "your star sure seems to be rising today."
 
  
 
 
  
"Rising or falling is
  a matter of perspective, dependent on your sorting order," said 
Thule
. He kept walking
  towards his car, Dawn following along beside him, almost two strides to every
  one of his.
 
  
 
 
  
"So," Dawn said,
  not able to keep the hurt entirely out of her voice, "I guess you'll be
  eating lunch with the jocks tomorrow."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 kept walking, "Dear lord, no.
  Not if I can help it."
 
  
 
 
  
"Really?" asked
  Dawn, "why not?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I don't have any
  friends there," said 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"You sure seem awfully
  friendly," said Dawn.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 reached into his pocket for his keys. He decided
  that a small lie was in order, "It's easier to be friendly with them. If
  they're not being antagonistic, why should I?" He unlocked his door and
  got in the car. Then, he reached around to unlock the back seat. Dawn got in.
  
Thule
 waved
  to Marigold as she appeared over the rise.
 
  
 
 
  
"They're not good
  people, 
Thule
,"
  said Dawn. "You haven't spent a lot of time with them, so you don't
  know. But, the friendliness only lasts as long as it takes them to get their
  hooks into you. Then, they're mean."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 turned to face her, "That is a remarkably
  astute observation. I thank you for your warning, Dawn. But tell me, if you think
  they're so evil, why are you planning a secret rendez-vous
  with one of Brianne's handmaidens?"
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold opened the door
  just in time to hear Dawn say, "She's different."
 
  
 
 
  
"Who's
  different?" asked Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
"Dawn's
  girlfriend," said 
Thule
,
  "is different from the other cheerleaders."
 
  
 
 
  
"Well, at least in one
  critical area, yes," said Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
"Why do I get the
  feeling that you two are making fun of me?" asked Dawn.
 
  
 
 
  
"It's just
  funny," said Marigold, "Whenever I hear girls talk about guys,
  their number one frustration is that guys only want the 'cheerleader type.' I
  meet one lesbian..."
 
  
 
 
  
"I still don't think
  I'm a lesbian," Dawn protested.
 
  
 
 
  
"Then, it must be an
  odd-numbered day," offered 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"Now, I know you're
  making fun of me," said Dawn, "but, I'm serious. I just think that
  I didn't like the boys it was acceptable to date. What do you think, 
Thule
?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I think," said 
Thule
 slowly,
  "that hideous girls should get it wherever they can--boys, girls, farm
  animals, Frenchmen, whatever."
 
  
 
 
  
"
Thule
, I'm serious," said Dawn
  indignantly.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 drove for a minute without speaking before saying
  evenly, "I think that the acceptable boys in this school are some of the
  most dangerous predators you can't get a license to hunt, which is in and of
  itself a pity."
 
  
 
 
  
"Wow," said Dawn,
  "extra points for darkness and menace."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 smiled, "After sunset, I can do it with a
  flashlight under my chin and it's really creepy."
 
  
 
 
  
When Dawn got out of the
  car, she leaned far enough into 
Thule
's
  window to rub his head again, "Thanks for the ride," she called
  while backing away, "and the advice."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 turned to Marigold, while pulling away, "I
  gave advice?"
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold laughed,
  "She's got a crush on you, you know?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Me?" asked 
Thule
, surprised,
  "What about you?"
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold blinked prettily,
  "Well, that goes without saying. I'm irresistible."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 laughed, "Once I get you home, we'll see who
  can resist who."
 
  
 
 
  
"Are you sure?"
  asked Marigold, "You look tired. Weren't you able to sleep last
  night?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I slept fine,"
  said 
Thule
,
  "until Maya showed up around two AM."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold spun to face him,
  "Maya? What happened?"
 
  
 
 
  
"She was completely
  around the bend," said Thule, "I had
  to chloroform her and drive her back to 
New York
."
 
  
 
 
  
"What did she
  want?"
 
  
 
 
  
"She was
  deranged," said 
Thule
,
  "she'd seen her baby for the first time since she gave him up for
  adoption. Somehow, the Vandevoorts must have found out about him because he's
  been adopted by one of Ivan's cousins up in Syosset."
 
  
 
 
  
"So, what did she
  want?" asked Marigold again.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 shrugged heavily, "She said she wanted me
  back. But, she said a lot of things, really crazy things. It was a very bad
  scene."
 
  
 
 
  
"Did you talk to her
  about getting help?" Marigold asked.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 nodded, "Yeah. And she said she would, but
  there were some things she needed to take care of first."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold was thoughtful,
  "Jonas said he would help however he could. Do you really think she'll
  get help."
 
  
 
 
  
"I don't know,"
  said 
Thule
.
  "She was in a bad way. It wasn't pretty."
 
  
 
 
  
"Still," said
  Marigold, "I would have liked to have seen it."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 didn't speak for a while. Finally, he said,
  "Actually, when I realized how crazy she was acting, I turned on the PC
  camera. I wanted an official record of what happened. I got most of the
  conversation."
 
  
 
 
  
"Can I see it?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 shook his head, "You really don't want to see
  it. It's not pretty."
 
  
 
 
  
"I really want to see
  it," said Marigold, "please."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
's voice was leaden, "You don't trust me on
  this?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I have my
  reasons," said Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
So they sat on the bed, 
Thule
's arms wrapped
  protectively around Marigold, and watched the recording of the scene with
  Maya. 
Thule
  winced several times at his own words and actions. When they reached the part
  where 
Thule
  carried Maya out to the car, he realized that Marigold was resting her head
  on his arm, crying. He kissed the top of her head and didn't speak.
 
  
 
 
  
"
Thule
," she said, "I feel so bad
  for her."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 nodded, "So do I. I wanted to cut her off
  completely, but I told her she could still e-mail me. I'm sorry I couldn't
  make a cleaner break."
 
  
 
 
  
Maya pulled out of Thule's arms and stood up to pace, "
Thule
, I did this to
  her."
 
  
 
 
  
"Marigold," said 
Thule
 sharply,
  "You have a right to feel bad and to want to help her, but you didn't do
  this to her. You didn't rape her. You didn't steal her child. You didn't
  force her to give birth to a child and give it away. What you did was awful
  enough that I spent three years planning revenge on you, but it was nothing
  compared to what Randy and Brianne and Ivan and her own family did to
  her."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold ran back to the
  protection of Thule's arms, "We need to
  help her, 
Thule
.
  What else can we do to help her."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 stroked her hair, thinking, "You've already
  apologized and let her have some modicum of revenge," he said out loud.
  "I wouldn't recommend handing her a check. That smacks too much of what
  the Vandevoorts do. Unfortunately, she's officially a grown up now. Until
  someone officially declares her nuts, the decision has to be hers."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold nodded, "What
  if she needs more help than Jonas can afford?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 turned Marigold in his arms so that she could face
  him, "Little flower, do you know who your stepfather is, what he
  does?"
 
  
 
 
  
"He doesn't talk much
  about work at home," said Marigold, "He says home is a refuge from
  work. But, I know that he does a lot of charitable fundraising. That's why
  they put his name on hospitals and libraries and such."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 started laughing. Once he started, he found he
  couldn't stop. He lay on his back and laughed until his sides hurt and tears
  were rolling down his cheeks. Finally, gasping for air, he sat back up again.
  Marigold watched him the whole time, confused.
 
  
 
 
  
Finally, 
Thule
 says, "Little flower, you are a
  remarkable creature."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold smiled, "I'm
  really not, but I thank you for saying so."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 began to explain Jonas and Tarr's holdings to Maya.
  As he did, her eyes got bigger and wider. When 
Thule
 wrapped it up with, "Jonas's
  holdings in Tarr are worth about two and a half billion dollars." 
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold looked stunned,
  "You must have misheard. Are you sure it was 'billion' with a 'b?'"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 nodded, "I'm sure."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold got up and started
  pacing again, "That's can't be right. We live comfortably enough and
  have a nice house, but there are at least a dozen houses nicer than ours in
  town."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 held up his hands, "Marigold, it's true. It's
  all a matter of public record." He walked over to the computer, closed
  the still-running picture of his now-empty room after he had carried Maya out
  of it, opened a browser and did some quick typing. Within a few seconds, he
  had a page up that showed how much the stock of all of the officers in Tarr
  was worth. After Marigold had accepted it as accurate, 
Thule
 did a web search and showed Marigold
  a half dozen articles lauding Jonas as a savvy business man.
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
"Don't you know how to
  use the Internet?" 
Thule
  asked Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
"Yeah," said
  Marigold, "for e-mail and research and stuff."
 
  
 
 
  
"Didn't you ever use
  it to look up Jonas?" asked 
Thule
,
  "He's got twenty four hundred matches on Google."
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said
  Marigold, "that would be invasive. He didn't talk about work, so I
  didn't pry. I mean, he showed me articles about himself, but they were always
  about how he'd raised money to help people."
 
  
 
 
  
"Unbelievable,"
  said 
Thule
,
  shaking his head, "You're not just pulling my leg?"
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said
  Marigold quietly, "
Thule
,
  are you mad at me?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 looked puzzled, "For what?"
 
  
 
 
  
"I don't know,"
  said Marigold, "I just feel really stupid right now."
 
  
 
 
  
"Oh, Little Flower," said 
Thule
,
  gathering Marigold in his arms and kissing the top of her head, "No no
  no. I'm so sorry. I just forget that other people aren't as...thorough and
  paranoid as I am." He kissed her head again. Marigold looked up and 
Thule
 kissed a single
  tear off of each of her cheeks.
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold held 
Thule
 around the chest,
  her arms locked around him like a chain. She rubbed her head against his
  chest, "
Thule
,"
  she said darkly, "I don't deserve you."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule lifted Marigold's
  head by the chin so that they were staring into each others' eyes, "I
  know," He kept pushing gently on her chin, guiding her entire body until
  she lay on her back, "but, until you can find somebody as good as you
  deserve, you're stuck with me."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold tried to sit up,
  "No..." But, 
Thule
  placed a firm hand on her breastbone, keeping her lying down.
 
  
 
 
  
"Shhhhh," he
  sussurated, "no speaking."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold nodded, "Yes,
  
Thule
."
 
  
 
 
  
With one hand, 
Thule
 began unbuttoning
  Marigold's blouse, slowly and gently, "I have been aching for you today.
  A hundred times, I thought about where I could drag you or make you follow
  me." He undid the last button, his hand moving over her smooth, flat
  belly. Marigold sighed and rose a little to meet
  him.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 brought his lips down to follow where his hand had
  touched. Marigold moaned a little at the touch of his lips, her knees
  pressing gently into his ribs.
 
  
 
 
  
"Little Flower," 
Thule
 said, his hand
  stroking from her knee to the inside of her thigh, "everything around me
  is suspicion and subterfuge. Thank you for reminding me that that's not what
  life is."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold raised her hips. 
Thule
 hooked his finger
  into the crotch of her panties, pulling them down to her knees, then pushing her legs straight up so that he could get
  them off of her. After pulling them clear of her feet, he unbuckled her shoes
  and slid off her little, white socks. He kissed the back of her heel, then worked his way down the back of her calf, paused at
  the back of her knee, planting kisses the whole way. Marigold moaned out
  loud. Realizing that he'd found a new erogenous zone, 
Thule
 focused, first on the back of one
  knee, then on the back of the other. His libido was driving him forward; his
  whole body felt like it was being twanged like a guitar string. But, self
  discipline had made his whole life possible. He lingered, kissing every inch
  of her inner thighs on his way up.
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold reached over to
  unzip her skirt. 
Thule
  took her wrists, forcing her to sit up, drawing her into his lap. Placing her
  hands on his top button, he sat and watched her unbutton his shirt, kissing
  the soft down of his chest and belly after each button came loose. He could
  feel his self-control wavering.
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold didn't stop with 
Thule
's shirt. She
  unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, sliding off of his lap long enough to shuck
  his pants and boxers off. Marigold smiled at the sight of 
Thule
's cock, rock hard and trembling with
  anticipation.
 
  
 
 
  
Now, 
Thule
's hands expertly unhooked Marigold's
  skirt and bra, stripping her as naked as he was. His mouth went to her
  breast, kissing and licking at the nipple, then sucking gently. He couldn't
  remember ever being so aroused. He never wanted the moment to end.
 
  
 
 
  
For a long time, they lay
  there, their legs moving sinuously around each other, their hands exploring
  each other's bodies. 
Thule
  could feel Marigold shuddering gently, her body humming on the edge of orgasm
  for a long, long time. He reveled in keeping her there, knowing that he was
  quivering on the verge of ravishing her the whole time.
 
  
 
 
  
When he finally did take
  her, they had lain together, 
Thule
's body covering Marigold, his weight
  on his elbows, the rough, wiry hair on his chest gently scouring her belly
  and nipples. Later, he would never know if he came down to join her or she
  rose up to impale herself. Even once he was inside
  of Marigold, 
Thule
  did not move faster for a long time, their bodies moving so closely that he
  hardly moved against her at all. Finally, gradually, he increased the pace.
  Marigold tried to match him, but he caught one arm behind each of her knees,
  pushing her legs back until her knees were close to her ears. Marigold gave a
  little squeal of protest at losing her leverage, but it was lost in the
  sounds of her pleasure.
 
  
 
 
  
"Oh, God,"
  Marigold cried out, "Oh, 
Thule
."
  
Thule
 kissed
  her on the mouth, silencing her as her whole body shook violently against
  him. Holding Marigold's bottom lip gently in his teeth, chuckling wickedly, 
Thule
 drove his hips
  into her now. When he finally released her lip, Marigold moaned and writhed.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 held on for as long as he could, not wanting to stop, even though Marigold occasionally tried
  to time her counterthrusts to drive him over the edge. By the time he finally
  came, both of them were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and every muscle
  ached deliciously.
 
  
 
 
  
They lay together, 
Thule
 tracing abstract
  patterns across Marigold's back with a fingertip, still bringing little
  frissons of pleasure to Marigold when he pressed a little harder. With his
  other hand, he peeled back the strands of hair stuck to her cheek, then
  kissed her mouth.
 
  
 
 
  
"I love you,
  Marigold," 
Thule
  said, simply and earnestly.
 
  
 
 
  
"I love you too, 
Thule
," said
  Marigold. "I love you so much."
 
  
 
 
  
Later, after they had
  washed each other off in the shower, Marigold sat astride 
Thule
's hips as he lay face-down, dozing, her hands working tension out of every muscle in his back.
  Suddenly, her legs stiffened and she lifted off of him a little.
 
  
 
 
  
"
Thule
," she said with alarm, "a
  car just pulled into the driveway."
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 lifted himself up, looking out into the darkness at
  the shape of the two cars.
 
  
 
 
  
He turned and kissed
  Marigold quickly on the cheek, "That's my father. I'll go meet him. You
  stay here and put some clothes on." Even as he spoke, he was pulling on
  boxers, pants, and a t-shirt, "Come out into the living room once you're
  decent." He trotted out of the room, still pulling up his pants.
 
  
 
 
  
                                    -=-
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 met his father at the front door, taking the
  suitcases out of his hands.
 
  
 
 
  
"You cut your
  hair," said his father.
 
  
 
 
  
"Yup," said 
Thule
, "it was
  getting too damned inconvenient, plus I'm doing some office work now, so I
  wanted to look more professional."
 
  
 
 
  
His father undid his tie
  and flopped on the couch while 
Thule
  lugged his suitcases back into his room. When he came back, he handed his
  father a beer from the refrigerator.
 
  
 
 
  
"Everything go all right here while I was gone?" asked the
  father.
 
  
 
 
  
"About the same,"
  said 
Thule
,
  opening himself a Coke and sitting on the smaller couch, "How long are
  you home this time?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Less than twenty-four
  fucking hours," answered his father, "I got pulled off of the
  project in Tokyo so I can lead a team in 
Ghana
 of all
  fucking places."
 
  
 
 
  
"Team
  leadership?" asked 
Thule
,
  "That's a step up."
 
  
 
 
  
"Yeah," said the
  father, "and a raise. But, it's in fucking 
Ghana
. Still, it'll make it a
  little bit easier to pay for MIT." Suddenly, he turned, "Is there
  someone in your room?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 took a sip and nodded, "Do you
  disapprove?"
 
  
 
 
  
His father raised an
  eyebrow, "Would it make a difference if I did? You're eighteen. Hell,
  for that matter, would it have made a difference before you were
  eighteen?"
 
  
 
 
  
"It matters,"
  said 
Thule
,
  "but, I don't know that it would have made a difference. You look pretty
  jet lagged."
 
  
 
 
  
"I don't know,"
  said his father, "Was that a sunrise or a sunset I drove into coming up
  87 West?"
 
  
 
 
  
"If you drove into
  it..." said 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"It must have been a
  sunset," said his father, taking a deep draught, "heading west.
  Makes sense."
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold came out of the
  bedroom, padding on bare feet to sit next to 
Thule
 on his couch, "Hello, Mr.
  Roemer. It's nice to meet you."
 
  
 
 
  
"Please," he
  said, "It's Kurt. Aren't you Marigold
  Tarr?"
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold nodded. Kurt
  raised his eyebrow meaningfully at 
Thule
.
  
Thule
 ignored
  it, "Do you have time for me to do a load of laundry before you head out
  again?"
 
  
 
 
  
"That would be
  great," said Kurt, "Listen, I'm really sorry I'm taking off again
  so soon. It's just that they sell so few of these..."
 
  
 
 
  
"It's cool, Dad. I
  know," said 
Thule
,
  "A man's got to make a living. Why isn't Stephens leading the team in 
Ghana
?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Stephens is three
  weeks into a deployment for some government department in 
Amsterdam
. McCormick is in charge of the 
Tokyo
 project."
 
  
 
 
  
"Collins?"
 
  
 
 
  
"Collins retired after
  
South Africa
.
  Il attends son jardin now. That's
  why I got the promotion."
 
  
 
 
  
"So," said 
Thule
, "It's
  permanent? Congratulations."
 
  
 
 
  
"I'll come back for
  graduation," said Kurt, "I wouldn't want to miss that."
 
  
 
 
  
"Mom's coming,"
  said 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"That's all right.
  It's a big stadium. I'm sure we won't have to sit together," said Kurt,
  "How are she and Gunther doing?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 shrugged, "Fine, I suppose. I only hear
  third-hand. We haven't really talked since that custody stunt she
  pulled."
 
  
 
 
  
Kurt gave a short, barking
  laugh, "Don't be too hard on her, Bart. She's..."
 
  
 
 
  
"Nuts?" asked 
Thule
.
 
  
 
 
  
"Yeah," said Kurt.
  "Are you eating all right? Not spending your food money on computer
  equipment, are you?"
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 laughed, "No. I only did that once, the first
  time you set up the household account. I won't make that mistake again.
  Speaking of money..."
 
  
 
 
  
Kurt glanced meaningfully
  at Marigold again before asking, "You need some more?"
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said 
Thule
, "I just
  wanted to let you know that you don't have to kill yourself worrying about
  tuition. I've managed to save up just about enough for the first year."
 
  
 
 
  
Kurt looked surprised,
  "Did you sell your software? Con..."
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said 
Thule
, "Like I
  said, I'm doing some office work--technical recruiting."
 
  
 
 
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow,
  "That's pretty good money for office work. You're not
  neglecting..."
 
  
 
 
  
"No," said 
Thule
, "You'll
  still get to see my speech."
 
  
 
 
  
"Great," said
  Kurt, rising, "As much as I'd love to stay and talk, I almost fell
  asleep twice on the drive from the airport. I'll make breakfast tomorrow and
  wake you. Marigold, will you be here for breakfast?"
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold looked surprised
  at the question, "No, sir. I'm going to be heading home soon."
 
  
 
 
  
"Well then," said
  Kurt, "It was nice meeting you again. You've certainly grown into a
  lovely young woman. I imagine that I will see you again at graduation."
  So saying, he lumbered off to his bedroom.
 
  
 
 
  
Marigold followed 
Thule
 as he lugged
  Kurt's suitcases down to the basement. As he seperated
  white and colored clothes into two baskets, she said, "Your father seems
  nice."
 
  
 
 
  
"Yeah," said 
Thule
, "My dad's a
  great guy. His work keeps him away a lot, as I'm sure you noticed. But,
  that's because there are less than two dozen people who do what he does
  anymore and they all work on the same team."
 
  
 
 
  
"I was starting to
  wonder if you lived here alone," admitted Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
"Most of the time, I
  do," said
Thule
,
  "Last year, he was on the road two hundred seventy-four days. It would
  have been more, but my mother sued him for custody and he had to keep flying
  back from 
Mexico City
  to deal with it."
 
  
 
 
  
"What exactly does he
  do?" asked Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
"He writes software
  for very big, very powerful computers," said 
Thule
, "the sort that only government
  agencies have the money and computational need for now. The manufacturer
  ships my dad's team out with every installation."
 
  
 
 
  
"Those must be really
  powerful computers," said Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
"The one they
  installed in Tokyo run the Nikkei," said 
Thule
, "The one
  before that is at the center of the new Indian fiber optic phone network. I'm
  surprised 
Ghana
  could afford one."
 
  
 
 
  
"And he's okay with
  leaving you home alone so much?" asked Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
"It's better than
  dragging me around with him," said 
Thule
,
  "which, until recently he couldn't have done anyway, since the custody
  decree says that he can't move me out of the country. Otherwise, my mother
  wouldn't have been able to not show up for her fortnightly visitations.
  Besides, as you may have noticed, I'm fairly independent. And, truth be told,
  fatherhood was never much of a vocation for him." He held out a yellow,
  button-down shirt at arm's-length before dropping it into the basket of colored
  clothes, "When he's in the thrall of a project, he can barely remember
  to take care of himself."
 
  
 
 
  
"That's so sad,"
  said Marigold.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 looked as if he'd never considered it from that
  angle, the said, "I don't know. Very few people ever find something they
  like doing so much that they can ignore the rest of the world and just focus
  on it. I think he's kind of lucky."
 
  
 
 
  
                           -=-
 
  
 
 
  
The rest of the week went
  fairly smoothly. 
Thule
  found an IT security expert for Jonas, caught up on most of his backed-up
  work, insinuated himself more deeply into Randy Vandevoort's confidence,
  frequently wanting to shower afterwards. On Friday morning, Randy handed him
  a thick envelope, "My old man says this is his final offer and not to
  worry about there being no open position. He'll take care of it." Inside
  was an additional forty thousand dollars. When he got back to Randy, 
Thule
 said, "Fine,
  but I hate being nickled and dimed. Let him know that it was a pleasure doing
  business with him and I am at his disposal in the future, as long as he keeps
  paying."
 
  
 
 
  
Randy said, "Tell him
  yourself. I'm having a party next Saturday at the house. Come early and he'll
  be there. I think he may have another proposal for you."
 
  
 
 
  
That afternoon, Piotr
  Vasilev asked 
Thule
  for a ride home. 
Thule
  knew him, at least in passing and profile. He was a wide receiver with good
  college prospects and a couple of pro scouts sniffing around him. But, his
  family was only minorly important in the grand scheme of things. Of all of
  the members of Randy's innermost circle of friends, his position was the
  least secure.
 
  
 
 
  
"No can do, my
  friend," said 
Thule
.
  "It's a good ten minutes out of my way."
 
  
 
 
  
Randy, who had been
  watching while pretending to be engrossed in conversation with Elliot, turned
  to look at them. Piotr turned to him beseechingly. 
Thule
 behaved as if he had just done the
  most ordinary thing in the world. Randy nodded at 
Thule
, giving his benediction. All involved
  parties plus three football players waiting behind Elliot for an audience
  with Randy saw it.
 
  
 
 
  
Thule
 had figured out fairly early on that only two
  people in Mannsborough High could decide how popular a boy was--the boy
  himself and Randy Vandevoort. With a single nod, the power structure had
  shifted. Piotr Vasilev was out and 
Thule
  was in.
 
   |