The Wanderings of Amy
Copyright 2002, 2004 by EC

(Warnings: Adult sex, erotic discipline, public nudity)

Chapter 19 - Burnside's Ghosts

Leaving Burnside's house, Amy, Paul, and Wendy were too tired to notice that 
Ruth Burnside's door stayed open a couple of inches until they drove off. 
Burnside silently watched the three students as they made their way down her 
sidewalk; Paul and Amy holding hands and Wendy close to Amy. She watched 
Paul open up the back passenger door for Wendy and the front one for Amy. She 
watched Paul get into the driver's seat and close his door. Paul turned on the 
ignition and they were gone.

Burnside thought about Amy for a few minutes, and about the huge break she had 
given her that night. Was Amy really that special? Did she really deserve all the 
attention and chances that Burnside had given her? Burnside saw something in 
Amy, something that set her apart, but what?

Burnside's thoughts turned to Paul. He truly loved Amy. Burnside reflected that 
she never had a boyfriend like him. Her love of fetish and her violent temper had 
made any normal relationship out of reach for Ruth Burnside. Sure, she had 
enjoyed plenty of sexual relationships. She loved sex and always had at least one 
lover at all times in her life; usually more than one. But she never had experienced 
having a boyfriend walk her to his car, holding her hand, and opening the door for 
her.

Burnside had big plans for Amy, which fortunately had not been derailed by 
Amy's failure to comply with her student aide contract. Still, Burnside felt a pang 
of regret that her plans for Amy probably would force her to break up with Paul.

Burnside closed her front door and contemplated the mess in the living room and 
kitchen she had to deal with. She walked over to her coffee maker and helped 
herself to what was left of the coffee. The coffee tasted bitter after having sat out 
all night. Appropriate, thought Burnside. Matches my mood.

Burnside took a shower and stood looking at herself in her hallway mirror. My 
fucking tits, she thought; God they look nasty. Just a few years ago she had been 
proud of her large breasts. They still looked all right in a bra or corset. But 
recently they had fallen. Loose, they sagged like two partially deflated water 
balloons, according to Burnside's critical view of herself. Burnside's skeptical eye 
scanned the rest of her body. It still looked OK. But for how much longer? 
Menopause was staring her in the face. Two, maybe three years more at the most. 
Then she would look like shit. Just another single old woman. With that on her 
mind she crawled in bed.

Burnside could not sleep. She was up after a few minutes, dressed in a sweatsuit. 
She did what she always did when she was depressed; turn on CNBC. As an 
economist, the lies and cheerleading coming out of CNBC and the other stock 
channels held a morbid fascination for her. What a bunch of bullshit, she thought. 
These people belong in jail, promoting stocks that could not hold their value, 
predicting big things for sectors of the economy that were already over-inflated.

Burnside saw the telecommunications crash coming, long before the sector 
peaked. The law of supply and demand. Wasn't anyone paying attention? Too 
much capacity was being built, too many losses being hidden in acquisitions. 
Burnside saw it all coming. She tried to warn the public. The only reward she got 
for trying to tell the truth was to be blacklisted from the stock channels. They 
wanted cheerleaders, not the truth.

Burnside sipped her cold, bitter coffee as she stared at the TV, listening to the 
latest flood of lies spewing out. Men, especially, seemed to be real suckers for this 
crap. The female announcer had just the right mix of beauty and professional 
appearance to play to male egos. Burnside felt that she could put herself in the 
heads of the men watching this actress pretending to be an analyst. 

Yeah. They were going to be the next Rockefeller by watching CNBC.

The new economy. The new era. New technology. What shit. The fundamentals 
never change, thought Burnside, they haven't in over 500 years. Go back to the 
law of supply and demand. Look at history, that's where you will find the truth 
about the "new economy". But no one was listening.

After torturing herself with CNBC and cold coffee for an hour, Burnside noticed 
it was light outside. Time to walk the dog.

Old Maynard was on the back porch. The dog, named after the famous economist 
John Maynard Keynes, was 17, and looked it. His muzzle was white, his eyes 
covered with cataracts. The dog wagged his tail feebly and struggled to his feet.

Maynard, you're not looking too good today, thought Burnside. Maynard seemed 
to perk up when he saw the leash. Burnside was relieved. She had promised 
herself the day Maynard did not care about his walk would be the day he would 
have to be put to sleep.

---------- 

Burnside reflected about her past as she slowly walked behind her decrepit dog. 
For the first time in a while her thoughts went back to her childhood. She thought 
about her religious, optimistic parents. They were so naive. They were suckered 
time and time again, with their house, with their cars, with their insurance, with 
their investments. No matter how many times her father was ripped off, he always 
seemed to maintain his faith in the goodness of humanity and the generosity of 
God. The family lived in poverty, not because there was no money, but because 
her father was such an idiot about spending it. There always seemed to be bums 
hanging around, asking her parents for handouts. Invariably they received what 
they wanted. Ruth and her sister may not have had enough to eat, but the bums 
always got theirs.

Ruth Burnside grew up hating many things. She hated weak people, and she hated 
optimists. She hated people who looked on the bright side of things, when there 
was no bright side. She hated her parents. She hated their fake cheerfulness, she 
hated their optimism, she hated their religion. She hated her used clothes and 
meals of Hamburger Helper. She hated seeing the money that should have been 
used to make her and her sister comfortable instead go to all those fucking bums. 
She hated being told that God smiled upon those who made sacrifices for the less 
fortunate. Ruth developed a foul temper and a controlling disposition, even at an 
early age.

Ruth Burnside became obsessed with money. Not so much in having it, but in 
understanding it. Economics would give her the answers. Of course there was no 
money for college. The bums and con-artists had taken it. Like her sister before 
her, Ruth enlisted in the Navy and later went to college on the GI bill.

Burnside reflected that it must have been in the Navy when she and everyone else 
started calling her and thinking of her as Burnside instead of Ruth. Briefly, as an 
undergraduate, people did call her Ruth again. In college she still thought of 
herself as Burnside, and signed all of her papers and correspondence with just her 
last name. By the time she was in graduate school, not many people even knew 
her first name.

Burnside liked the military. She liked the discipline and attitude about weakness. 
She liked having plenty of spending money. She liked her growing savings 
account. She would have stayed in had she not become pregnant. The pregnancy 
hit her a few months before her first contract was about to finish. She wanted an 
abortion, but did not have access to a clinic until it was too late. Rather than sign 
up again, she returned to civilian life. She applied to several universities and lived 
off her savings until the baby was born.

Burnside gave up the child for adoption. She had to, not because of her financial 
situation, but because she knew that her violent temper would make her an 
abusive parent. Burnside cared for her daughter enough to know that she could 
not raise her. She was brutally honest about herself with the adoption agency. 
When her adoption counselor suggested that she seek help for controlling her 
anger, Burnside snapped "My temper is part of who I am. I can't fix it. That's why 
I'm here."

Burnside started college two weeks after the baby was born and disappeared from 
her life. She took double loads of classes, getting her undergraduate degree in just 
two and a half years. She had her Masters Degree in a year and a half, and her 
Ph.D. two years later. She was obsessive about studying and good at her classes 
and projects. She became a student aide and quickly bullied any of the students 
she felt were not working to their potential. By age 27 Burnside was teaching. By 
age 31 she was tenured.

---------- 

As she strolled behind Maynard, waiting for him to dump, Burnside's thoughts 
turned to sex and S&M.

Ruth Burnside's interest in sex began early, at first as an act of rebellion against 
her parents. She hung around a group of neighborhood boys, some of who were 
slightly older than she was. They began experimenting when the older boys 
reached puberty. Ruth, at age eleven, started to use the boys' interest in sex and 
the fact that she was the only girl in the group to control them. Ruth's increasing 
control over the boys was a gradual process. She learned to play on their 
weaknesses.

The boys learned that everything with Ruth had its price. She loved forcing the 
boys to strip completely, sometimes in exchange for something as small as a kiss. 
Anything more than that had a much heavier price. By the time she was 13, Ruth 
became interested in punishing her group-mates. She used her own body to 
bargain punishments with her friends.

From the group there was one boy in particular with whom Ruth spent her time. 
He let Ruth punish him as much as she wanted. His parents were never home until 
after six, so Ruth and the boy spent hours at his house after school. He was the 
only boy in the group for whom she took off all of her clothes. She let him feel 
and kiss her body. She started to experiment with massaging him. Ruth's price for 
letting him see and touch her was that he had to lie naked on the sofa while she 
slapped his bottom and legs. She told him that he could not get up until she 
allowed him to. If he did, she would never let him see her again. She had him 
under her control.

Ruth's love of this fetish quickly increased. She loved the sense of power that she 
had over her friend. Hitting him seemed to give her power that she did not have in 
any other area of her life. She loved the sight of his naked adolescent body, 
covered with pink marks and squirming on the sofa. After a couple of months 
Ruth found an excuse to punish him with his father's belt. The sight of the reddish 
belt marks on her friend's bottom excited her even more.

Ruth's friend desperately wanted to have sex with her. Slowly she used his desire 
as a bargaining chip for more severe punishments. She experimented spanking 
him with other household items such as breadboards and bathbrushes. She began 
to experiment with different positions, such as having him bend over a chair. She 
delighted in forcing him to do risky things such as streak outside around the 
house. A couple of times she locked him outside nude, and forced him to stand at 
the back door negotiating what he had to do to be let back in. Very slowly Ruth 
let him do more and more with her, but the exchange was always in her favor.

Finally, after two years, Ruth let him get inside of her. After the first time she 
loved it. She learned at a very early age the joys of combining pleasure and pain.

The first time was on a hot summer day. Ruth and her friend decided to go out 
into the nearby forest park. She could tell he was desperate to have her. They 
walked a long way and came upon a growth of willows. Ruth suddenly 
remembered that willows were what you make switches out of. While her friend 
watched nervously, she cut some and cleaned off the bark. They found a clearing 
with a fallen tree lying on the ground. Suddenly she turned to him and took his 
hand.

"Do you still want me?"

He nodded.

"You gotta to prove it. Get your clothes off."

Ruth took hers off as well. The boy bent over the dead tree and she began 
switching him. The stripes on his bottom were darker than anything she had seen 
before. She was totally aroused. The feel of the hot sun against her own body 
exhilarated her even more. She grabbed his shirt and threw it on the ground. She 
kissed him and massaged him until he was totally hard. She lost her virginity on 
his shirt. The blood fascinated her, even though it was her own. She did not enjoy 
the pain of the first time, but she knew it got better once the first time was out of 
the way. She made him wear the bloody shirt on the way back.

From that point Ruth had several sexual relationships in school. However, she did 
not want a normal relationship. She loved the feeling of control that always 
accompanied punishing her boyfriends. At that time Ruth's sister worked in a 
pharmacy and was able to supply her with condoms, so in high school Ruth 
stayed out of trouble. Taking a whipping and wearing a condom, those were to 
two conditions for anyone who wanted to have sex with Ruth. She was surprised 
how many of her classmates were desperate enough for sex to be willing to meet 
her two conditions.

Ruth started studying S&M literature. When she was 16 one of her old group-
mates got a job at a bookstore and was able to get her some books on S&M, both 
fiction and pictures. The pictures with leather interested her. She loved the black 
clothing and its contrast with white skin. She still could not get into the adult 
bookstores to see this stuff for real. She had to wait another 2 years. But her 
imagination was fired. The feeling of control, of power, that she experienced by 
inflicting pain on guys desperate for sex filled her fantasy life.

Ruth took full advantage of her teenage classmates' desperation for sex. She made 
herself available to a lot of the guys who, for whatever reason, could not have 
anyone else. But there was always a cost. Sex was on Ruth's terms; a few minutes 
of pleasure in exchange for a punishment. By this time she had collected some 
breadboards, bath brushes, and belts and knew how to use them to maximum 
effect. She knew how to dominate her lovers. She loved the sight of a 16- or 17-
year old classmate on his knees, nervously looking up at her, waiting.

Ruth celebrated her 18th birthday by touring several sex shops. She did not have 
the money to buy the expensive items, but she would be in the Navy in a few 
weeks and then would have some income.

Ruth Burnside's ability to extract a heavy cost for sex took off when she put on 
her sailor's uniform. There was no shortage of desperate guys willing to do 
anything for a few minutes of sex in the Navy. Burnside now had money, so she 
could buy the leather sex toys she craved. The Navy gave her a steady supply of 
lovers to use them on, including a couple of officers.

Burnside avoided sex for almost two and a half years after she had her daughter. 
She was disgusted with having allowed herself to become pregnant. She knew 
better. She punished herself by staying celibate until she finished her 
undergraduate degree.

Burnside's self-imposed punishment ended as soon as she had her undergraduate 
diploma. Her fantasies returned with a vengeance when she joined a Chicago sex 
group. She began to have longer-term relationships with other graduate students 
and professors who also were into fetish. One of her old professors was still a 
lover to this day, after nearly 20 years. Burnside started hosting small S&M 
parties at her apartment. These gatherings later evolved into the elaborate parties 
that she currently hosted three times a year at her house.

---------- 

The final turn in Burnside's sex life took place when she became a teaching 
assistant. Having taken double-loads of classes as an undergraduate and still 
maintaining a GPA of 3.8, Burnside had little sympathy for undergraduates who, 
taking half the classes per semester that she had taken, still could not handle the 
material. Nearly every undergraduate who came into Burnside's office 
complaining about her harsh grading was there because of personal 
irresponsibility. Burnside learned how to question the undergraduates to get out of 
them the fact that they had gone to a party the night before they took a test, or 
how they obtained a plagiarized term paper. Burnside loved reducing 
irresponsible undergraduates to tears by probing them with their own words. It 
was only a matter of time before Burnside's dominating of irresponsible students 
went a step further.

Burnside was in her final semester getting her MA degree when she punished her 
first student. She remembered the incident with loving detail.

It started when Burnside graded a term-paper. She already had seen this paper 
four times before. It seemed to be circulating between two sororities. The first 
time she saw the paper Burnside had graded it and returned it. The second time 
Burnside saw the paper, she realized that she had been tricked. She was furious, 
but there was nothing she could do against the first user of the paper. The second, 
third, and fourth times Burnside saw the paper resulted in expulsions of the users 
from the university. Now was the fifth time. It seems these stupid sorority bitches 
don't learn, thought Burnside. Burnside laid out copies of the second, third, and 
fourth versions of the paper on her desk and waited for the fifth user to show up.

The girl's name was Jessica. Jessica was not the stereotypical rich-bitch that 
Burnside most loved to humiliate. She was blond, but naturally. Her face and 
figure were so stunning that even Burnside was attracted to her, but she carried 
herself in a quiet, shy manner.

Jessica came in to Burnside's office shaking. The TA, with her typical severe 
demeanor, silently pointed at the three previous versions of the paper. Burnside 
began sarcastically:

"Well, Jessica, it seems you took this class three times before, under different 
names. You really like the class that much?"

Jessica went white. There was no way that she could argue with the three term 
papers on the desk, staring at her like three witnesses. Burnside waved Jessica's 
paper in the air and laid it next to the others.

"Looks like I have copy number four for my collection. You understand what 
happens next, right?"

Jessica did not break down crying like the others. Her voice trembled, but she 
clearly was determined to get out of this if at all possible.

"Ruth, please. I'll do anything for you. I...can't get kicked out."

"Well Jessica, you should have thought about that before you turned in the paper. 
I can't help you. You did this to yourself."

"Ruth, please. Anything. I'll do anything. Whatever you want. Please give me a 
second chance."

"The matter is closed Jessica. You fucked up. That's the end of it."

"Ruth...I'll do anything you want. Anything."

Burnside suddenly realized what Jessica meant. She was offering herself to the 
TA. 

Burnside opened he mouth to reject Jessica's plea yet again, but then paused. The 
girl was stunning and being totally submissive to her. Burnside, who liked women 
as well as men, was attracted to the student. This was a chance to have some real 
fun. Why not?

While Jessica sat nervously watching, Burnside typed up the following on her 
computer for the first time:

I, __________, admit to having attempted to commit plagiarism on __________. I 
have read and fully understand this university's cheating policy, and am fully 
aware of the consequences for committing an act of plagiarism under the student 
code of ethics.

In lieu of disciplinary action from the university administration, I, __________, 
freely and willingly choose to accept the disciplinary alternative offered by my 
TA, Ruth Burnside. I understand that upon completion of the disciplinary 
alternative to Ms. Burnside's satisfaction, I will continue my coursework and no 
further action will be taken against me.

Signed __________.

Her heart pounding, Burnside printed the sheet and handed it to Jessica. "OK 
Jessica, here's your second chance."

Burnside knew this was risky. But the temptation of Jessica was simply too much 
for her to resist. She told Jessica to be at her apartment that night, and let her 
know that the "disciplinary alternative" would be physical. Jessica, overwhelmed 
with relief that she was not going to be kicked out of the university after all, 
grabbed Burnside's hand with both of hers.

"Oh Ruth, thank you! I'll do whatever it takes to make you forgive me!"

"Well, we'll see how grateful you are tonight. Remember, what happens tonight 
will be to my satisfaction. You signed that."

---------- 

A few hours later, Jessica was standing at Burnside's door, shaking. Burnside 
greeted her wearing regular clothes. Her habit of wearing outfits during these 
punishments only started after she bought her house.

Jessica was scared. The earlier elation of avoiding expulsion had worn off. She 
realized that this was going to be a rough experience. Burnside picked up two sets 
of leather cuffs. She loved the expression in Jessica's face when she saw the cuffs.

"OK, Jessica, get your clothes off."

Jessica shook even harder as she took off her clothes. Burnside took the clothes to 
her bedroom. She returned to the living room to find Jessica trying to cover 
herself.

Burnside wrapped the cuffs around Jessica's wrists and ankles. She then clipped 
Jessica's hands behind her back. Tears started rolling down Jessica's cheeks.

"Jessica, you made you first mistake tonight by trying to cover up. I made you 
take off your clothes precisely because I want to see you. I am going to look at 
every part of your body and touch you where I want. You will spread your legs 
when I tell you to. You will touch me where I tell you to. When I tell you to do 
something, you will do it. Do you understand?"

Holding back the urge to cry, Jessica nodded. Burnside then led Jessica to the 
middle of her living room in front of her sofa.

"Stand up straight. Spread you legs."

Burnside sat down. She spent a long time looking at Jessica's body. Jessica forced 
herself to stay standing straight with every bit of her willpower.

Burnside then stood up and started to touch Jessica's shoulders and breasts. She 
kissed and licked her nipples until they got hard.

Burnside reached between Jessica's legs. She ran her hand up and down the 
insides of her thighs. She put one hand on Jessica's bottom and ran her other hand 
through Jessica's pubic hair. She stroked her labia and clitoris. In spite of her fear 
and embarrassment, Jessica became wet. Burnside rubbed her fingers back and 
forth soaking them with Jessica's arousal. Then she held her hand to Jessica's face.

"Jessica, I don't want this on my hand. Clean it off."

Burnside grabbed Jessica's hair with her clean hand and pushed her fingers from 
the dirty hand against Jessica's mouth. Jessica licked the fingers clean. Feeling 
Jessica's tongue on her fingers aroused Burnside even more.

Burnside then took off her skirt and panties. She lay on her back on the sofa, with 
her legs spread wide. Jessica, her hands still behind her back, knelt in front of 
Burnside. Burnside grabbed Jessica's hair and guided the girl's head between her 
legs. Jessica knew what was expected of her. Her tongue moved up and down 
Burnside's clitoris and vaginal opening. At first Jessica was a bit clumsy with her 
tongue, but she figured it out quickly enough. Burnside's breathing quickened and 
she gasped as she climaxed.

Jessica's ordeal was just beginning. Burnside forced Jessica to get up, then kneel 
again on the floor in the middle of the room. She took a washrag and cleaned off 
the student's face. Somehow not being able to clean her own face made this even 
more humiliating for Jessica. Burnside knew that, and loved her expression. 
Jessica was quietly crying. Burnside got a couple of tissues and held them to 
Jessica's nose.

"Blow your nose, Jessica...There, that's a good girl."

Jessica's punishment was next. Burnside unhooked Jessica's cuffs from behind her 
back and re-hooked them in the front. She then took Jessica's arm and guided her 
back to the sofa. Burnside sat down and guided Jessica over her lap. Jessica had a 
beautiful bottom. Burnside moved her hand over Jessica's bottom and up and 
down the backs of her thighs. She slipped her hand between Jessica's bottom 
cheeks and moved her fingers up and down her vagina. Then, just as Jessica was 
about to climax, Burnside began spanking.

SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... The loud swats resonated 
throughout the living room. Jessica quickly started crying again, this time much 
louder. Burnside continued slapping until her arm began to hurt. She lost count of 
how many times she had swatted Jessica. By the time Burnside was finished 
Jessica's bottom was a deep dark pink, as dark as she would have been had she 
been hit with a paddle. The girl's body was shaking with sobs. Burnside looked 
over at her clock. She noticed that nearly 45 minutes had gone by since she had 
started spanking Jessica. No wonder her arm was so tired.

Burnside gently ran her hand over Jessica's bottom until the student stopped 
crying. She then slipped her hand between Jessica's legs again. After a while 
Jessica thrust herself up. Burnside gently fondled and caressed the entire area 
between Jessica's bottom-hole and clitoris. Jessica gasped and groaned. She 
looked up. Her eyes met Burnside's.

"Ruth! Ruth, please!"

Burnside had not counted on this. She helped Jessica sit up and kissed her. 
Suddenly it was Burnside who had her head between Jessica's legs, making her 
climax. Jessica lay back on the sofa, gasping with delight, her cuffed hands 
grabbing Burnside's hair.

They ended up spending the night together. Burnside took her time with Jessica, 
in contrast with most of the guys she had slept with. Both Jessica and Burnside 
would remember this night for the rest of their lives.

In spite of the intense experience they shared that night, Burnside and Jessica 
never spent another night together. Jessica had a boyfriend and Burnside had her 
various lovers. Burnside always hoped that Jessica might come back for another 
session, but she never did. Still, Burnside gave Jessica an A on her make-up term 
paper when she should have gotten a B. Jessica passed the class and moved on 
with her life.

Jessica was the first student out of many whom Burnside would punish for 
plagiarism or cheating. She was able to size up the students she had caught 
cheating, to determine who would submit to a physical punishment and who 
would not. So far Burnside had stayed out of trouble with the campus 
administration.

Burnside never felt guilty about using cheating as a justification for satisfying her 
sexual desires. What was the alternative for the student? Expulsion. Being 
blacklisted. A wrecked life. Burnside's method ultimately was much more 
humane. A night of pain, and then it was over. The student could move on with 
his or her studies. Burnside's method gave the student a second chance. The 
student code of ethics did not. Amy was not the first student that Burnside had 
punished who later had ended up being one of her best.

Burnside knew most of her students hated her and were afraid of her. But, each 
semester, there were the few who were fiercely loyal to her. Those were the ones 
who kept Burnside in teaching, when she could have pursued work in the private 
sector for more money.

---------- 

Burnside's thoughts returned to her daughter. She wondered if her daughter was in 
college now, and if so what she was studying. She wondered if her daughter 
would ever try to contact her. If she did, Burnside had nothing to hide. She would 
tell her daughter the truth about herself and why she could not keep her. Burnside 
had a feeling that wherever her daughter was, she was doing great things. She 
would be about Amy's age right now.

Amy entered Burnside's mind again. Amy had her faults, but she was tough. Amy 
was a survivor. Burnside just recently had found out about Amy's months on the 
street and the overdose of her friend. She also knew that Amy's parents were dead 
and that she was living with that photographer. Amy had overcome all her losses 
and was now in college. Burnside liked that about her student.

Burnside realized that Amy admired her and wanted her understanding of the 
world. Burnside realized that Amy was desperate to please her, and not just for 
grades. There was something more to Amy's feelings about her, something much 
more personal. The professor saw that quite clearly tonight. It was the expression 
in Amy's face that caused Burnside to cancel her punishment.

Suddenly Burnside realized what it was she saw in Amy. She looked into Amy's 
face and subconsciously saw her daughter. She saw a girl she wanted to mold, to 
toughen, to prepare for great things in the world. Burnside was doing it the only 
way she knew how. Had Burnside been able to keep and raise her own daughter, 
she would have been like Amy, faults and all. Amy had no parents and obviously 
had that gap in her life. Burnside obviously had a gap in her own life, her missing 
daughter. Somehow, in a weird, distorted way, Amy Debbs and Ruth Burnside 
were drawn to each other.

My daughter, thought Burnside. I guess losing her affected me more than I 
realized.

---------- 

Maynard finally dumped. Burnside bent down to pick it up with a paper towel and 
dropped it in a paper bag. With her mission accomplished, Burnside took her dog 
back home. Maynard had been her companion since her first year getting her 
Ph.D. He would be gone in a couple of weeks at the most, along with Burnside's 
youth. Burnside sensed that the dog's passing would mark the halfway point of 
her life. It was all downhill from here.

Burnside snapped at herself. Stop it! So you're no better than anyone else! You 
have 30 good years left to do something with yourself! Get your next lecture 
ready, for a start!

With that Burnside sat down to review her lesson plans. Then she e-mailed a 
couple of co-workers to exchange information about the latest cheating scams 
going on. She got an e-mail back with a new website that had a bunch of papers 
posted from UCLA. Her e-mail acquaintance gave her a password to access the 
site. Burnside checked the website and looked over the list of papers. She was 
sure that eventually she would see some of these in her classes. Ha! She would 
have to tell Amy and her other student aide to be on the lookout for this newest 
batch of papers.

Burnside was ready for class, but still had a couple of hours to kill before she had 
to be at the university. She began to clean up, starting with the dishes. Suddenly 
the enormity of her task dispirited her. She finished filling the dishwasher and 
turned it on. The rest would simply have to wait. To hell with it. She could clean 
up tonight. Her depression returned. Burnside was tired, but still could not sleep. 
She got dressed for class. 

---------- 

As she put on her severe dark business outfit, Burnside glanced down at a very 
worn-out stuffed toy raccoon that was sitting by her dresser mirror. The stuffed 
animal seemed out of place, sitting alone on Burnside's dresser. However, in 
Burnside's life that toy was not out of place at all. Seeing the threadbare raccoon 
returned Ruth Burnside's thoughts to her childhood, and to the hatred she felt for 
her parents and their religion. She thought about that one Christmas, which more 
than any other event in her life, forged Ruth Burnside's character and personality.

Ruth was seven at the time, just about to turn eight. At that time she still believed. 
She still believed in Santa Claus, in God, and in Christmas. Like any other small 
child, she had her wish list of things that she wanted. She knew better than to 
hope for a lot of presents, but she had made it a point to be good all year. 
Certainly Santa and her parents would reward her efforts with something. Ruth's 
hopes rose when she saw a large number of toys and other presents in the garage. 
She peeked through the door when her parents and another couple from their 
church wrapped them. Then came Christmas Morning. Ruth was heartbroken 
when all she got were a couple of sweaters.

Ruth's father, beaming with happiness, gathered the family for breakfast and 
lectured his daughters on the joys of giving. Then the family piled into the car and 
drove to different charities to drop off the gifts. So that was it, the gifts were for 
charities, not for Ruth and her sister. As the trunk was emptied of presents Ruth's 
emotions went from hope, to despair, to hatred, and then to rebellion. Her child's 
mind asked the question, why were the charity children more important than 
herself and her sister? She had been good, really good, but she realized that there 
would be no presents for her, just the same crappy clothing. So Santa had not 
listened, or if he did, her father had taken her presents for the charity children. She 
was old enough to understand what her father's words, "the joy of sacrifice" really 
meant for her. Ruth would sacrifice, but for her there was no joy in it. As they 
went from charity to charity Ruth quietly glared at the other children with hatred 
as they opened the presents that should have been for her.

Ruth's rebellion that day was a quiet one, but it was the first out of many secrets 
she would keep from her parents. When her father was not looking, she grabbed a 
small soft package and pushed it under her father's car seat. Later she could 
retrieve it and see what it was. Santa had failed her. Ruth had to help herself.

Ruth's heart pounded for the rest of the trip around the charities. Would God 
punish her? She was sinning. She felt the terror of religious guilt, and wondered if 
God would strike her down. But no, nothing happened. Ruth's parents finished 
their distribution of presents and returned home. There would be the evening 
prayers, and then their meager dinner. Ruth's father spent the day blissfully 
unaware of the change that was taking place in his daughter's soul.

That night Ruth slipped into the garage to see what was in the package. It was a 
small stuffed toy raccoon. It was cute, but an average child would not have looked 
at it twice. Ruth returned to her bedroom and got in bed with it. She snuggled her 
face against the toy's soft fur. She called the raccoon "Rickster".

Rickster led a clandestine life in Ruth's bedroom. She made a bed for him out of a 
small cardboard box and some old washrags. Ruth wondered where Rickster 
could sleep and not be discovered. Finally she settled on the inside of her chest of 
drawers. Ruth realized that if the bottom drawer was pulled completely out, there 
was just enough room for Rickster and his bed behind the drawer. At night 
Rickster slept with Ruth.

Ruth quit praying shortly after Rickster entered her life. Ruth quit believing in 
Santa Claus. Once she was exposed to evolution in school, Ruth was able to quit 
believing in God. Ruth stopped respecting her father and stopped feeling guilty 
about loathing the recipients of her family's charity donations. And to think, this 
entire transformation had started with the theft of a simple toy, a stuffed raccoon 
that probably did not even cost $ 5.00.

Over the years Rickster became more and more worn out, as Ruth lavished her 
attention and playtime on him. When Ruth got older Rickster went in her school 
backpack to bring her good luck. Rickster went into Ruth's seabag in the Navy 
and to college with her. For the last 20 years he had sat in silent vigil on 
Burnside's dresser and had witnessed many strange things in her bedroom.

---------- 

Finally Burnside decided to sit down and torture herself with CNBC some more. 
The phrases of that pretty announcer and her cheerleader guests drifted through 
her mind...great investment opportunity...I see only great things ahead for 
_________ (fill in the blank)...great long term prospects...in the long run...long 
term...buying opportunity...invest...dynamic sector...bright future...

Old Maynard staggered into the living room, feebly wagging his tail. He shoved 
his nose under Burnside's hand. Burnside half-heartedly petted him.

Burnside thought about the dog's namesake, John Maynard Keynes. Long term. 
Long run. What shit. Keynes knew the correct answer. Burnside reflected that it 
was Keynes who made the truest statement that ever came out of an economist.

"In the long run, we're all dead."



  
Amy_19