The Outsider
Copyright 2009 by EC
EC's Erotic Art & Fiction - http://www.ecgraphicarts.com/
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(warnings: language, adult themes, public nudity, sex between adults)

Chapter 14 – The Sinclairs

Mike and Ruthie returned to his room just as it was getting dark outside.  The 
moment they entered the room, Ruthie stripped off the uncomfortable dress.  She 
was desperate to get her bra off, given that she had not worn one of those 
restrictive garments since she started college.  Once she was naked, she stretched 
and spun around a couple of times.  She looked at the pressure marks from her bra 
strap in the mirror and commented:

“I’d forgotten how uncomfortable wearing all this shit is.”

Mike stripped as well.  He took Ruthie in his arms.  For a long time they stood 
kissing as he ran his hands over her bottom.  That she enjoyed, because she did 
like being hugged and she especially liked it when he touched her bottom.  

She could feel his penis stiffening.  OK…might as well get that taken care of and 
get it over with.  She reached down and gave his organ a squeeze before pulling 
away and reaching for her lubricant.  She inserted it while he put on a condom.  
She dabbed a bit of lubricant on the end, then got on her elbows and knees on the 
bed.  He ran his hands over her bottom, gave each side a quick kiss and then stood 
up and entered her.

Mike thrust vigorously as he grunted and sweat trickled down his body.  For him 
the experience was totally great.  She closed her eyes and played along, angry at 
herself for not being able to enjoy that part of the relationship, but thankful that 
the lubricant was making the experience bearable.

----------

The students had a chance to relax once they were cleaned up.  Ruthie cuddled 
Mike.  

“I still can’t get over how well things went today.  You were great.  I mean…what 
you said to my mom about church and all that…”

Mike kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair.

“About church…you know that we made a commitment to your mom…”

“How do you mean?”

“We have to go.  Might as well do it tomorrow and get it over with.”

“What do you mean, we have to go?  Go where?  To church?”

“To church.  To my church…there’s two services, and I ‘spose it’d make more 
sense to go to the earlier one at 8:30.”

Ruthie sat up.

“Fuck that!  I’m not going to your church!  I’m not going to anybody’s church!  
I’m done with that shit!”

“OK…so tomorrow night, your mom’s gonna call and start asking: ‘did you go to 
Mike’s church?  Well…why not?  Mike told me he was gonna take you.  So he 
didn’t after-all?  Then he was lying, wasn’t he?’ Isn’t that what she’s gonna say to 
you?”

“I ‘spose…”

“So…we’re going to keep that from happening.  When your mom asks about you 
going to my church, you’re gonna tell her ‘yes’ and when she asks you to tell her 
about it, you’re gonna tell her what it was like, and you won’t have any problems 
because you’ll be telling her the truth…”

“I don’t care!  I don’t want to go to your fucking church!”

“I’m not talking about you converting!  I’m just talking about you going there, 
once, so you can tell everyone that you did.  Look.  I quit going too…several 
years ago…’cause there’s no point in me being there…I mean…when you go 
you’ll see what I’m talking about.  But I do think you need to go at least once, just 
to satisfy your mom and so we don’t have to keep lying to her.  Might as well do 
it tomorrow and get it over with.”

Ruthie remained sitting up, not sure how to respond.  Mike continued:

“How you handle your mom is your business.  I’m not gonna get involved in that.  
But I’m not gonna lie to her unless there’s a damn good reason.  This is not a 
damn good reason.  The next time I see her, she’s gonna want to talk about us 
going to my church, and I don’t want to have to make up a bunch of bullshit.  
Besides, it’ll get you off the hook with that Cristina who’s looking for you.  If 
you’ve already gone to my church, you can tell her that and it’ll get you out of 
having to go to hers.”

Ruthie finally nodded, because she wasn’t able to come up with any arguments to 
counter Mike’s logic.  She hated to admit it, but she knew that he was right…it 
was easier to put in an hour at his church than it was to spend yet more weeks of 
evasive phone conversations with her mother and dodging Cristina.  Besides, 
from everything he had told her, it sounded like his church was very impersonal 
and going there would not be a high pressure experience.

----------

For the second time in less than 24 hours Ruthie put on her green dress, while 
Mike put on dark pants, a tie, and a sports coat.  That was the most formally she 
had ever seen him dressed.  They left very early, driving through thick morning 
fog to make it in time for the 8:30 service.  They pulled up to a large 1960’s-style 
modernistic church located in a neighborhood that was built about the same time.  
Only about a third of the parking spaces were taken, most of them by luxury 
sedans such as Town-Cars.  

Ruthie noticed that everyone attending church was well-dressed.  She also noticed 
that almost everyone around her were older white people.  She looked to see if 
there were any young people at all, but she only saw a few couples in their 30’s 
and 40’s.  She did not see anyone college-aged.  Nor did she see any children 
because, as Mike would later explain to her, during the service children attended 
separate Sunday school.

The inside of the chapel reflected a by-gone era when there were more people 
attending and Mike’s church had a lot more money.  The ceiling was inlaid with 
expensive wood and the windows were modernistic stained glass.  The d?cor was 
totally different from her mother’s church, which had no d?cor at all apart from a 
cross and some posters with biblical passages.  As the older people entered, they 
sat down quietly.  In the background there was soft organ music.

Ruthie looked around at her bizarre surroundings.  The cavernous chapel…the 
organ music coming from somewhere in the background…and all those old white 
people just sitting quietly…sort of gave her the creeps.  Mike handed her a church 
program and in a hushed voice explained to her how the service worked, that it 
would last exactly 55 minutes, it would have three hymns, the reciting of the 
Lord’s Prayer, and the sermon.  Ruthie looked at the strange document in her 
hands, bewildered that a church service could be so carefully preplanned.  She 
vaguely wondered if the service really would follow the program minute-by-
minute…but as she looked around at all those old white folks, she figured that 
none of them was the sort to step out of line and disrupt a schedule.

Sure enough…minute by minute the service followed the program to the letter.  
Mike was familiar with the hymns and the Lord’s Prayer.  He sang and recited 
from memory, but there was no life or spontaneity in what he was doing.  There’s 
no life in this place at all, thought Ruthie to herself.  This is totally 
dead…like…really dead…

On their way out Mike briefly talked to one of the assistant pastors, explaining 
that he had not attended services for so long because he had been in Chicago.  He 
introduced Ruthie as his girlfriend.  The pastor was friendly enough, but she could 
tell that he had no real interest in her.  And that was it.  As they returned to his 
car, Mike did not bother to ask her what she thought of his church.  He knew that 
she could not have a positive opinion.  

Instead he explained his own experiences with the faith his parents attempted to 
give him when they were more optimistic and Mega-Mart had not yet ruined their 
lives.  For him there had been no sudden break in his faith, no moment of 
revelation like the moment Ruthie had experienced.  During his last couple of 
years in high school he simple drifted out of the church, especially after his father 
lost his business.  When he was a senior in high school, he still believed in God, 
but that belief became vaguer and more ill-defined as the year went by.  Of course 
it did not help that God was of no assistance whatsoever as the Sinclairs were 
losing their pharmacy.  Nor was it any help that as Mr. Sinclair’s standing among 
the local businessmen declined, so did his standing in the church.

Mike commented about the horrible job his church had done attempting to retain 
younger people like himself.  The church did OK keeping young people involved 
and motivated up through the end of high school, but young singles tended to 
drop out once they started college and very few ever returned.  Younger people 
either ended up changing over to an evangelical mega-church or, like Mike, they 
simply drifted away from religion altogether.

“You have to understand something about my church.  It’s like my dad’s 
business, and like a lot of other things in this country.  It’s a part of our society 
that is getting old and dying out.  All those old people…once they’re gone, the 
church will be gone too.  It’ll die with them.  My generation got pushed out, 
‘cause those old people were too worried about themselves to worry about us.  I 
have no reason to go back.  And…when we were there today I didn’t see anyone 
from my high school group.  I don’t know…maybe there’s a few left that’ll be 
going to the later service…but I’ve lost touch so I wouldn’t know.”

As they discussed their respective religious experiences, Mike and Ruthie were 
able to understand each other on the issue of religion.  Mike did not have the 
explosive hatred towards organized religion that Ruthie had because his church 
was not such a domineering presence in his life as he was growing up.  No one 
sought to control him or his mind, but when he and his family drifted away, no 
one made any real effort to prevent them from leaving.  

Ruthie realized that Mike was right about having her see his church, because now 
she honestly could say that she did go, she could talk about the sermon and the 
music, and she give a physical description of the place.  She was oddly depressed 
by the experience, nevertheless.  There was nothing really offensive about Mike’s 
church…there was no exhortation that the world was about to come to an end, no 
screaming, no talking in tongues, no interruptions from the audience, no mind-
control, no megalomania from the preacher.  But still, the place totally creeped-
her out.  It was just so…dead…just a bunch of old people reciting stuff for no 
reason other than it was what had been recited for the last 400 years.  When she 
talked to her mother about her experience, she’d have to skip the detail about 
being surrounded by a bunch of half-dead rich white senior citizens.

----------

The visit to the church put Mike in a melancholy mood and made Ruthie more 
reflective.  Mike offered to show her the two locations where Sinclair Pharmacy 
used to be, which she accepted.  He first took her to a dilapidated downtown area 
that appeared to have been built between the 1920’s and 1950’s.  The buildings 
were mostly abandoned except for a few breakfast places and some “boutiques” 
that Mike suspected actually were money laundering fronts.  He pointed to a 
corner building and commented that was the first location of Sinclair Pharmacy, 
where his great-grandfather and grandfather ran the business from the 1930’s until 
the late 1970’s.

They drove to a shopping center that had been built in the 1960’s but had been 
remodeled several times since then.  Mike explained that the shopping center 
replaced the traditional downtown area and that the majority of the local 
businesses had moved there by 1975.  Sinclair Pharmacy was one of the last 
holdouts to leave downtown: Mike’s grandfather moved the business to the 
shopping center in 1979.

Like the downtown area it replaced, it was clear the shopping center had seen 
better days.  Only about half of the storefronts were still occupied: there were two 
pawn-ships, a cigarette discounter, a second-hand clothing store, a pay-day lender, 
a liquor store, a store that sold surplus packaged food items, and a clothing 
donation center.  Mike pointed out the spot where Sinclair Pharmacy had 
occupied one of the larger spaces, which now was occupied by the outpatient 
services for a drug rehab clinic.  Mike observed:

“Still a drug business in this spot…but I guess this is where the growth market is 
and my dad just got it wrong.”

To Ruthie there was nothing unusual about what she was looking at, because there 
were several similar shopping centers scattered around Salinas, including the one 
where her mother’s church was set up.  However, Mike was able to give her a 
different perspective because he was old enough to remember what the area was 
like before it lost its businesses.  He explained that before Mega-Mart cleaned out 
all the local retailers, the shopping center was a very different place, with 
businesses that actually served the needs of the public.  There had been a major 
grocery store where the clothing donation center was located, a hardware store, a 
toy store, a gardening store, a book store, a store for school supplies, a pet store, 
several restaurants, and a mortgage & loan where the payday lender currently was 
operating.  

Thanks to Mega-Mart, the shopping center’s original retailers were gone and the 
blight coming from their successors was spreading throughout the neighborhood.  
For example, the pawn shops sold items stolen out of nearby residences by the 
bums hanging out at the rehab clinic, the liquor store, and the smoke shop.  

“The best thing we could do at this point would be just get rid of the shopping 
center and put in a city park.  Even some condos would be better than what’s here 
now, ‘cause at least people would live there and have to maintain ‘em.”

Ruthie suspected she knew what was coming next.  They had seen Mike’s church 
and they had seen the two places where Mike’s family had their pharmacy.  It 
would be logical that…

Sure enough, Mike suggested going over to his house for lunch.  Ruthie was not 
thrilled at the prospect of meeting his parents, but given everything he had done to 
calm the problems she was having with her mother, she knew that the least she 
could do would be reciprocate.  She would try to get along with Mike’s relatives 
as best she could.  Besides, she was wearing her best dress…just as good a time as 
any…

When they got to his house, Mike was surprised that no one was there.  He told 
his girlfriend that they’d wait an hour or so before returning to Santa Cruz.  
Ruthie was relieved.  Mike showed her around the house, which like everything 
else he showed her was dated to the 1970’s and had seen better days.  It was a 
split-level tract-home sheltered in the front by a couple of large trees.  The interior 
was kept up, but the only thing Mr. Sinclair was doing on the outside was mowing 
the lawn.  The paint was peeling and the roof’s shingles needed to be replaced.  
There was a much more serious maintenance problem: a tree root had worked its 
way towards a rain gutter outlet and was pushing into the foundation of the house.  
Already there was a serious crack in the cement.  When Ruthie commented about 
the damage Mike answered:

“The house isn’t gonna be ours all that much longer.  Dad doesn’t give a shit 
about it, ‘cause any money he spends on repairs would just be money thrown at 
the lenders.  By the time they get their hands on this place, it’s gonna be 
worthless, and that’s what he’s planning on.”

There was a pool in the back yard, which was being kept up because Mike’s 
parents still used it.  The yard was surrounded by a wooden fence and tall bushes, 
so it was completely private and hidden from the neighbors.  It was already sunny 
and starting to get hot.  Mike took off his sports jacket.  The couple looked at the 
pool and then at each other.  When Mike suggested going for a swim, Ruthie 
eagerly accepted.  They went into the pool house and took off their Sunday 
clothing.

A few minutes later Ruthie tread water in the deep end as she watched her naked 
boyfriend go inside to get them something to drink.  A few minute later he was 
back, and they set up in lawn chairs enjoying the sun and eating.  A few minutes 
later they were back in the water.

They spent a very long time swimming and relaxing in the pool.  Mike pulled a 
plastic raft into the water.  When Ruthie climbed on top, he pushed her from one 
end of the pool to the other and then spun her around.  Finally he left her alone to 
relax and enjoy the sun and breeze on her bare backside.  He floated on his back 
as she dozed on her raft.

Clearly they had lost all track of time.  Mike figured that his parents must have 
gone to the later church service (which they still attended every so often) and 
would be back around noon.  It already was 1:00 when Mr. Sinclair’s voice called 
out the back door:

“Mike?  Mike?  Are you out here?”

“Dad!  Hold on!  Wait a second!”

Ruthie woke up, rolled off her raft with a loud splash, and pulled it in front of her, 
but it was too late.  Mike’s parents already had seen her.  They quickly retreated 
into the house to give their son and his friend a chance to get dressed.  Mike and 
Ruthie scrambled out of the water, showered off, and put on their clothes.  Ruthie 
was blushing and very nervous.  The last thing she wanted to do at that point was 
face the Sinclairs, but Mike managed to convince her that what had just happened 
was not the scandal of the century.  He reassured her that his parents themselves 
rarely wore swimsuits when using the pool and that was not the first time that 
they had stumbled into Mike or his sister swimming naked with friends.  Still, it is 
not every day that the very first time a young woman sees her boyfriend’s parents, 
she is lying naked in their pool. 

Now properly dressed, Mike led Ruthie around the pool and into the living room.  
She shyly shook the hands of the elder Sinclairs.  She was blushing and totally 
nervous, as she always was when meeting new people she was worried about 
impressing.  Actually the pool incident was something that worked out in her 
favor.  Mike’s parents did not realize that her nervous behavior was normal for 
her: they assumed that she was mortified over them having seen her in the pool.  
Because of their mutual embarrassment, Mike’s parents went out of their way to 
be polite to their guest and make her feel welcome.  Under normal circumstances 
they might not have been so patient with her fidgeting and sideways glances.

Mr. Sinclair did the same thing with Ruthie that Mike had done with Do?a 
Lisette: get her to talk about neutral topics that interested her.  In Ruthie’s case it 
was geology.  Ruthie chatted about her major.  Mr. Sinclair did not know much 
about geology, but both of their fields required knowledge of chemistry, which 
was something in common they could discuss.  Mr. Sinclair talked about 
chemistry classes he had taken in college and asked Ruthie about hers.  

From that topic the Sinclairs were able to get Ruthie to tell them about her 
background.  She talked about Nebraska and to a lesser extent about Salinas.  She 
mentioned some of the grants she had received to attend classes.  Mr. Sinclair 
commented:

“You know that some of that’s going away next year…with the state as messed up 
as it is…I hate to say it, but scholarships are gonna take a big hit.”

Ruthie nodded.  That wasn’t something she wanted to think about, but losing her 
funding was a reality she was very likely to face within a few months.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, which was interrupted when Mrs. 
Sinclair suggested “getting a bite”.  Mike later explained that was how his mother 
handled any uncomfortable moment, by running out and “getting a bite”.  Mr. 
Sinclair obligingly grabbed his car keys and they left the house.  Ruthie was 
immensely relieved to get out of the living room.

“Getting a bite” usually entailed driving around instead of just stopping in one 
place.  Mike’s father drove all around the neighborhood to show Ruthie various 
places that were of interest to him and his family’s past.  He showed Ruthie the 
schools where Mike and his sister had gone, the church that Mike and Ruthie had 
attended in the morning, and a house that once had been owned by Mike’s 
grandfather.  They drove a few miles out of town to see a WPA project where 
Mike’s great-grandfather had worked shortly after arriving in California during 
the Depression.  A major omission from Mr. Sinclair’s history lesson were the 
two locations once occupied by Sinclair Pharmacy.  As much as he liked chatting 
about the family’s history, Mr. Sinclair never once mentioned the defunct family 
business.

Ruthie noticed that Mr. Sinclair always talked about things that were in the past.  
She fully understood that he was a man with no future, just one person out of 
hundreds of millions who had been pushed aside by globalization and “progress”.  
The world had changed around Mr. Sinclair and the future would have no place 
for people like him.  And since…the world had no place for Mr. Sinclair, since he 
was part of a United States that already had passed into memory…was there any 
point for him to continue with his life?  Yes, for the time being there was, because 
he was holding out until Mike and his sister could get through college.  But 
then…after they graduated and the family lost the house, why would he want to 
deal with staying alive?  For what?  Everything that he had known and the society 
that had created him were gone…leaving him as nothing but a ghost living among 
the ruins of what had been, but was no more. 

As she looked at Mr. Sinclair and perceived the true defeat in his expression, she 
thought to herself: this guy knows…he understands.  At that moment, she felt a 
secret connection with Mike’s father.  It was a connection she probably could 
never voice or express, but still it was there.

Ruthie felt that Mr. Sinclair already was more dead than alive.  The passing of 
that man’s world was only a tiny manifestation of the impending death of a 
society, of a nation, and ultimately of a species.  She suspected that Mike could 
not fully perceive that reality because he was too close to his father to view him 
objectively.  Mike also was too much of an optimist, thought Ruthie to herself, 
still too na?ve to understand how truly hopeless the condition of humanity really 
was.  Like his fucking politics was gonna fix anything…

Finally they stopped at “family dining” restaurant.  After they sat down, Ruthie’s 
normal shyness was not a problem when she talked to Mike’s father.  Mrs. 
Sinclair may have had very reserved feelings about Ruthie, but his father really 
started to like her.  She talked naturally to him, which surprised Mike as much as 
Mike’s handling of Do?a Lisette had surprised Ruthie.  The difference was that 
Mike had “performed” for Do?a Lisette, but he did not feel any connection with 
her.  With Ruthie and Mr. Sinclair it was different: a real connection that neither 
could define nor articulate.  

When they left the restaurant and were driving back to the house, she reached 
over and took Mike’s hand.  She felt the need to comfort him, but she also felt 
that she needed reassurance from him as well.  And yet, subconsciously what she 
really wanted was be alone with Mr. Sinclair.  He was the one looking into the 
abyss and who clearly understood that.  Ruthie wanted to stand next to him, 
because she also knew…

----------

By the time they returned to the Sinclair house, it was getting late.  Mike hugged 
his parents and left with his girlfriend, to return to a place where supposedly they 
were preparing for their future.

There was one more stop to make, one more thing that Mike needed to show 
Ruthie.  He proceeded to the infamous Mega-Mart that had finished off his 
family’s business.  The building stood abandoned and boarded up.  Already the 
parking lot was cracked and full of grass.  The company had put up a chain-link 
fence around the entire area topped with razor wire.  Mike knew from his readings 
that Mega-Mart had no intention of ever selling the land, because the holding 
company wanted to make sure no one else could utilize it.  The United States was 
full of similar abandoned Mega-Marts, strategic parcels of land that would 
permanently remain off-limits for anyone’s use, even though the stores 
themselves were closed and the buildings reduced to decaying ruins.  Mega-Town 
Associates’ official policy was never to sell assets once they were acquired, 
because the company’s long-term goal was to establish exclusive ownership of 
the world’s resources.  Anyhow, the land itself was a tax write-off, so to leave it 
unused made perfect economic sense.  

Mike commented:  “You know…there used to be a pond here…when I was a little 
kid I‘d come here to go fishing with my grandfather…ducks came through here in 
the fall…it was a nice place.  It was county-owned land, but Mega-Town won a 
lawsuit and that’s how they got to build on it.”

From the Mega-Mart they drove past blocks of 1960’s houses.  Many of them 
were for sale.  Most of the others were occupied by older people, people who had 
bought into the real estate market back in the days when houses were still 
affordable in California.  All from a bygone era…

Mike turned onto the highway and drove his girlfriend back to Davenport.  She 
turned on a radio station.  After a couple of songs they heard the voice of the 
famous singer Bruce Springsteen singing “My Hometown”

Now main streets whitewashed windows and vacant stores
Seems like there ain’t nobody wants to come down here no more
They're closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
Foreman says these jobs are going boys, and they ain’t coming back to…
Your hometown
Your hometown
Your hometown
Your hometown

Last night me and Kate…we laid in bed talking about getting out
Packing up our bags maybe heading south
I’m thirty-five we got a boy of our own now
Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said:
Son, take a good look around
This is your hometown

Mike said nothing, but Ruthie noticed him tightening his lips and holding back 
tears.  She had nothing to say either, but she put her hand on his arm to try to 
comfort him.

----------

After Mike and Ruthie left, the Sinclairs briefly discussed the day and what they 
thought of their son’s new girlfriend from Salinas.  Mrs. Sinclair was not 
impressed with her.

“She’s cute, which I suppose is what he sees in her.  But there’s something about 
her that’s not right.  I can’t put my finger on it, but to be honest, I think she’s 
kinda creepy.”

Mr. Sinclair didn’t answer right away.  Mike’s mother added:

“I just wish he’d get back together with Lisa.  The Campbell girl was so perfect 
for him…”

“And I say screw Lisa Campbell.  I’m glad he’s rid of her.  She was a phony.  I 
like Ruthie a lot better.  She’s not ‘normal’, but so what?  At least that girl’s got a 
brain and you can have a conversation with her.”

“Well…I guess.  But I’m still not thrilled about her.”

Mrs. Sinclair decided to go for a swim.  She took off her clothes in the bedroom 
and wrapped a towel around herself.  She went out to the pool for an evening 
swim, tossed the towel in a lounge chair, and dove in.  She would do her 
laps…work off her stress, of which she had plenty.

As soon as he heard his wife splashing in the water, Mr. Sinclair went into the 
garage and pulled up a small door that led into the crawlspace under the house.  
He took a flashlight and fumbled around in the dark moldy area.  He shined his 
light at several wooden studs, noticing to his satisfaction that the damage by the 
termites that had invaded their house had progressed.  

Yes, my little white ladies, eat.  Eat to your hearts’ content.  Eat up all those 
profits they think they’re gonna get when they foreclose.  

Mr. Sinclair knew that the termites had been destroying the house for several 
months.  Most homeowners would have been horrified upon seeing the damage, 
but Mr. Sinclair was elated.  The termites were destroying a house that within a 
short time would no longer be his.  The lenders would snatch their prize, only to 
discover it was worthless.  

Yes, my pretty little white ladies…enjoy your meal…I’m not gonna bother you.

Mike’s father shined a flashlight towards a metal gray box that he had screwed 
into a support beam.  He opened it up to make sure its contents were clean and in 
good condition.  He pulled out a .38 mm pistol and made sure that it was dry.  He 
checked the bullets.  They still looked good and showed no signs of oxidation.  
Excellent.  He pushed a small cleaning rag through the barrel of the pistol and 
checked the trigger.  He put the weapon to his temple and dry-fired.  It clicked 
just fine.  Satisfied, he locked the pistol and ammunition back in the box and 
crawled out towards the garage.

Mr. Sinclair went through the same routine every Sunday afternoon.  He wanted 
to make sure everything was ready when the time came…


