Short Story - Supermarket Satisfaction

I was fresh out of high school, and fresh out of choices. I decided against college, to my parents protest, and so I was on the hunt for a job. After turning eighteen I thought life would be a blast but quickly learned that Mom and Dad wouldn’t pay for everything. I was surprised to get a call back from the local grocery store manager the day after I applied. I was told to come in for an interview and I was very excited.
After showering I did my makeup and dressed in the most formal outfit I owned; a button down white blouse and blue jeans. My mother smiled at me on my way to the front door, and shouted out, “Knock’em dead Jess!” I smiled to myself as I rushed out the door.
I got behind the wheel of my car and immediately checked my reflection in the rear view mirror. My long blond hair, which I normally kept up in a pony tail, was flowing down over my shoulders. I realized I had applied my eyeliner just a little too thick, but enjoyed the way it made my crystal blue eyes stand out. Once I was satisfied with my reflection I buckled up and head to my interview.
His name was Jack Donaldson, he informed me as he shook my hand. He led me back to his office and closed the door behind us. “Have a seat, Jessica” he said as he gestured to a chair positioned in front of his desk. He walked around and took his seat as I took mine and we sat there in silence for a few minutes while he looked over my application.
This is a good point to explain my little tick. I enjoy watching people; their small details, their habits, and any other small details I can find in the time available. So while I sat there waiting for the interview to begin I studied him. He had wavy brown hair, and it was obvious he took very good care it. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I could smell a hint of product and could assume he probably used hair spray. He wasn’t very old either, at the time I had estimated him around thirty.
He looked up from my application and smiled at me, “You haven’t had much work experience.”
I shook my head, “No Sir, I just graduated from High School. This would be my first job.”
“Well then, got to start somewhere right? I’d be honored to be your first boss” he said with a grin.
I’ll admit I’ve never been very good at controlling my excitement, and this was no different. I have a hard time admitting it now, but I actually jumped up and squealed with excitement. Naturally, Mr. Donaldson was taken aback by my sudden outburst but he recovered quickly and smiled. “Glad to see the enthusiasm, let’s just hope you keep it up on your shift.”
I nodded quickly, “Yes Sir, I won’t let you down.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure you won’t. Let’s see you here tomorrow afternoon at 3pm. We’ll get you trained on the register.”
I shook his hand before leaving and practically skipped my way back to my car. It’s embarrassing remembering all this but what do you expect from an eighteen year old girl?
Now, I might not have given my boss a second look if it hadn’t been for my best friend Amy. We had known each other since childhood and I couldn’t bear to think about her leaving for college in the fall. Amy had begged me to go with her, tried to talk up college like it was this great big adventure. In truth, I just never felt like college was right for me.
Amy looked up from her magazine and smiled at me, the wicked little grin she only showed when she was thinking something scandalous.
“He’s hot isn’t he?”
I raised an eyebrow, “Who are you talking about?”
“Your new boss, Mr. Donaldson, he’s a hottie” she said with a giggle.
“Just how would you know?”
Amy rolled her eyes, “My sister worked there two summers ago, remember? Mom didn’t want the car sitting in the parking lot all day so she made me tag along, drive the car home, then go pick her up; drove me crazy.”
“Oh yeah, I remember, your sis got tons of crap at school for being chauffeured by her little sister.”
We both laughed loudly causing one of my parents to bang on the wall, the unwritten signal that meant Shut Up. Amy rolled her eyes, but we both knew her parents did the same thing. I think the fact that she would soon be living in a dorm, miles from her parents, was slowly getting to her head. I had almost forgotten what we had been talking about before Amy brought it back up.
“Anyway, your boss is hot. He’s really built, must work out, and he’s not that old.” She said matter-of-factly.
‘Yeah, I guess.” I said with a shrug.
“You should bone him.”
My eyes went wide with horror; I couldn’t believe Amy had said that. The only reaction my terror received was a loud cackle from Amy and another pound on the wall.
“I’m not a whore Amy.”
Again, Amy rolled her eyes, and I was getting annoyed. “I know you’re not a whore, but you’re an adult now, and the way I hear it you should get the whole virginity thing out of the way as soon as possible anyway.”
I swallowed hard and averted my eyes, instantly causing suspicion. It was now Amy’s turn to go wide eyed.
“Oh my God Jessie! You’re not a virgin?”
I put my finger up to my lips, urging her to lower her voice. The pounding on the wall started again, but I felt lucky. If all they did was pound on the wall, and had not come storming into the room, then I knew they hadn’t heard Amy’s outburst.
I watched as she stood up and started shaking her hands as if she had grabbed something hot, and in truth she had; a huge news flash from her best friend. Amy started pacing back and forth, unable to fully accept my nonverbal confession.
“Seriously Jessie! How could you not tell me about this? I’m your best friend.”
I thought about her question for a minute, and to be honest the reason I never told her was simple; Amy is a big mouth. I knew if I told her the story in confidence it wouldn’t take a week before her ‘sewn lips’ would start to break at the seam. I knew there was no way to get out of this and with the realization that I didn’t have to worry about meeting a mob of laughing classmates come Monday morning I became more comfortable.
I ushered Amy over to the middle of the room and we huddled together on the floor. I could see the look of expectation building on her face. I crossed my legs and rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I could see Amy was becoming impatient so I didn’t waste any more time delaying.
“It happened a few months ago, at David Robertson’s eighteenth birthday party.”
Amy’s jaw dropped and she just sat there staring at me. I knew why, Amy had been at that party with me and I had complained for two weeks about how lame it had been. It really had been a lame party, and although what happened there is a big part of my life I still feel a small twinge of guilt.
“It wasn’t that great Amy, it was uncomfortable, awkward, and painful.”
Amy shook her head, “No, wait, who was it? Was it David?”
“No!” I answered quickly, knowing how she felt about it. “It was Jonathan.”
Amy busted out in laughter, “No way! Jon?”
I was about to tell Amy the details she so desperately wanted to know when my dad opened my bedroom door and walked in.
“Seriously girls, you have to go to bed now. I’ve got work in the morning, and really, your adults now; start acting like it.”
When I think about it, my dad’s words that night must have seriously settled deep in my mind because not only did I listen and went to bed despite Amy’s consistent whining, but the next morning I also started to look at things differently. Little things started to matter more and I began to critique my own choices.
I spent the majority of the day going through my room and tossing things I felt too old to own. I trashed teddy bears, old dolls, and even my hot lips telephone. “What on earth are you doing Jess?”
I turned and looked at my mother who was standing in the door way, “Just some cleaning, no big deal.” I said with a shrug.
“Alright,” She replied, but with suspicion. She turned a left, even though I knew she had questions.
I piddled around my room for the next few hours, and then took all the stuff I was ready to get to give up out the trash bins. It was nearly time for work so I hopped into the shower. I had one of those little shower radios attached to the wall so I turned it on. A Britney Spears song was playing and while I wasn’t much of a fan I left it on the station and started rinsing my hair.
The song’s tempo picked up and I was feeling good. I ran my hands through my hair and began moving my hips to the beat. I’ve never been one to sing in the shower, just wasn’t normally my thing so I at least refrained from that.
While I let the conditioner set in my hair I turned the water off and sat on the edge of the tub to shave my legs. I applied the shaving cream; lathering and spreading it all over my legs. After the Britney Spears song ended a string of commercials began to play. I only half listened as I started to pull my razor up my soap covered calf. It wasn’t until I voice I recognized came over the air.
“Your friendly neighborhood Super Foods is having a sale this week; we have a big 10 for $10 sale on many items, and don’t forget to check out the meat department for big savings on dinner tonight.”

It was Jack Donaldson, the store manager and my new boss. I hadn’t thought about his voice at the interview the day before but now it was sticking in my head. I started thinking about what Amy had said. She was right, he was an attractive man. I shook my head and smiled. There were so many things wrong with that thought. For starters he was way too old for me, and secondly he was my boss. I couldn’t help it though; I felt this amazingly warm sensation run through me at the thought of him. I took a deep breath and got back to the task at hand. I would probably hate the man in week’s time if everything I had heard about bosses was true.
After I had finished shaving, and was done with my shower, I stepped out and dried off with a towel. My clothes were hanging from a hook on the back of the bathroom door so after blow drying and brushing my hair I got dressed. I had chosen a blue polo shirt and black slacks, both work requirements I’d found out when reading the dress code in the employee handbook. While staring at my reflection I realized I looked pretty damn good. I hadn’t realized how attractive a polo shirt could look on me. Looking back I suppose it was more excitement to be working, and the idea of professionalism that I seen in the mirror than anything else.
I decided to do my makeup a little more conservatively today. I chose a light powder pink eye shadow and lightly applied my eye liner. I decided against lipstick and just went with clear lip balm instead. After I was satisfied with my makeup I continued on to my hair. This part was very difficult for me. I knew I didn’t want to leave my hair down because it would start to annoy me if it got in my face. I tried a simple pony tail but it didn’t look right. To be honest I think it probably made me look to plain and even with the changes I had been making that just wasn’t me. I ended up deciding on pig tails. Yes, a little childish but I loved the cute way it made me look.
I checked my watch and to my horror I was running late. I ran back to my room to grab my purse and was out the front door before my mom could wish me a good first day. Admittedly I might have broke a few driving laws on my way to the grocery store. I was terrified that I was going to be late for my first day. The funny part of all this was the fact that I ended up arriving fifteen minutes early!
When I walked through the door the air conditioning hit me with a blast of cool air. It felt so good coming in from the humid summer heat that I momentarily forgot what I was doing there. I stood there looking around the store when Mr. Donaldson walked up to greet me. “Good afternoon Jessica.” He said with a bright smile. I returned the smile and shook his hand. I watched as his smile, and eyes, slipped a little bit. I didn’t understand it but something had changed for just a split second. He put his fist up to his mouth, coughed, and then clapped his hands together awkwardly. “Ok, so ready to start your first day?”
I nodded earnestly, “Yes Sir.”
Mr. Donaldson seemed to have recuperated from whatever had upset him. To be honest I stood there wondering if maybe I had forgotten to put on deodorant. I briefly went through the mental processes and knew I had indeed put some on.
I followed him over to the cash registers where two older women stood behind two registers ringing up the customers purchases. He led me to the older of the two women. She was a fairly tall woman with long gray hair. I wasn’t a very good judge of age when it came to the elderly, but at the time I guessed her at being around sixty. Mr. Donaldson patted her on the back.
“Jessica, meet Violet. She’s been here over ten years, she’ll be training you.”
Violet stopped scanning the items and turned toward me. I could tell she was sizing me up. Later when I had spent more time in work force I realized she was determining how long she felt I’d last. I still wonder what her estimate had been.
Violet nodded at me and gave me a weak smile. “Good to meet you.” She said and returned to her work. Mr. Donaldson turned to me, “So, just watch her for awhile, get the feel for what you’ll be doing and then we’ll throw you on your own register before the night rush starts.”
I didn’t see much of Mr. Donaldson for the next few hours; I think he had either been in the back or in his office. I kept my attention on what Violet was doing, taking mental notes of the procedures. From what I seen it didn’t seem to be that big of a deal. It pretty much came down to scanning the items, telling the customer the total, taking their money, and finally handing them back their change. Of course I learned how to do credit card transactions and other things but I felt confident that I could handle my own register.
At five Mr. Donaldson returned and took me over to an empty checkout lane. “This is your register; I’m assuming you paid attention to Violet for the past few hours so you should know the functions.”
“Yeah, no problem,” I said confidently.
He grinned at Violet who returned the expression causing me to wonder if I was somehow the butt of some joke.
“All right then, I’ll be in my office if you need me. Things will start picking up in about fifteen minutes. Most people get off work at five, so they stop in to get stuff for dinner before heading home.”
I flipped the switch that caused my check out number to light up, trying to show my confidence.
“Alright then,” he said simply and headed off to his office.
I learned quickly just what that joke was about. By six the store was packed and I was having a hard time keeping up. Both Violet and the other woman, who I learned was Donna, had to repeatedly come to my rescue. I remember thinking that I would go mad hearing those annoying beeps of failure my register would shriek at me.
By seven I felt I would scream. Violet told me to go to the office and talk to Mr. Donaldson, her faith in me completely dispelled. As I took the walk of shame to the office I was terrified I would be fired.
I knocked on the door and took a deep breath. I heard a cough and mistook it for an agreement of entrance. I turned the door knob, opened the door and walked in. My eyes instantly opened wide and my jaw dropped. Mr. Donaldson was sitting on a small futon on the far side of his office, and his pants and underwear where at his ankles. “Please shut the door!” He yelped and without thinking about it I did as he requested. He hurried to pull his pants up and I averted my eyes. That’s when I noticed he had his computer monitor turned to face the futon. A pornographic movie was playing with volume muted. I quickly rushed over and turned the monitor off.
“Oh my god,” he said and put his face in his hands. “What am I going to do?”
I wasn’t sure what he should do but I remembered a similar situation happening at my high school. A boy had been caught masturbating in the bathroom by a teacher, which was serious trouble. It didn’t take a genius to know that the trouble would be much worse for Mr. Donaldson.
I took a road even I wouldn’t have expected to take. I sat down beside him and patted him on the back. “Calm down, it’s alright.” He looked up at me confused, “I’m going to be fired,” he said sternly. I ignored his tone, and shrugged. “Not if I don’t tell anyone.”
“You seriously won’t tell anyone?” He asked skeptically.
I sat there for a minute or two and thought about it. I thought about a few things actually.
“I’ll make you a deal; I won’t tell anyone what you were doing if you do something for me.”
He sat up strait in his seat.
“Your seriously going to blackmail me?” he said, anger flashing in his eyes.
I shook my head, “No, I want you to teach me things.”
“Teach you things?” He said, obviously confused. “Like what?”
I bit my lip, wondering if I should actually go through with this. “Teach me about sex.”
I saw something in his eyes for a brief second, I knew I had him.
He sat quietly for awhile, obviously thinking about it. “What do you want to know?”
Now, I wasn’t a virgin and my first time wasn’t very pleasant, but I also knew that it was suppose to feel good after you got past that horrific first time. I decided Mr. Donaldson would be the perfect person to test that out on. After all he was attractive, experienced, and the only person I knew with both those traits in this situation. I had to take advantage of it.
I climbed on top of him, straddling him. “I want to learn how to orgasm.”
By the bulge pressing into my inner thigh I got the feeling he was alright with this. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?” He asked, surprised.
“Yeah, I have, but only by myself. I want to orgasm during sex.”
He leaned forward and buried his face in my neck. I could hear him inhaling my scent. I had learned a few things from magazines and movies so I wiggled on top of him, making sure he could feel me where it counted. I was rewarded with a light moan in my ear. “Lock the door,” he whispered to me. As I pulled away I seen his eyes were closed. I rushed over, locked the door, and returned quickly.
I stood there in front of him and stripped down. I removed all my clothes and left them on the floor in a pile. I stepped closer, taking my time to let him enjoy his view. I mimicked the moves I’d seen in movies, running my hands up and down my torso. I gently caressed my breasts, lightly pinching my nipples.
He pulled his pants back down to his ankles, “Climb back on,” he said with a grin, this one much less PG than the one he showed out on the floor. I did as I was told and let him guide his manhood into me. It still hurt, but not as much as it had the first time.
“Now start bouncing on my dick.”
I was so startled by what he sad that I just stared at him. I think he understood because he gently placed his hands on my hips and started moving me in rhythm. After a few minutes it actually started to feel really good. I started moving on my own so he moved his hands to my breasts and start kneading them. He was a little rough with them at times but it both painful and pleasurable at the same time.
I moaned a little loudly and he put one of his hands over my mouth for a second, letting me know I needed to quiet down. I started grinding harder and faster. He winced and bit his lip; I realized I had been digging my nails into his shoulders. I moved my hands up the back of his head and ran my fingers through his hair as I bobbed up and down.
I felt it building up inside me and I had to try hard not to scream. I must have slowed down because his hands were back on my hips moving me up and down fast and hard. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, letting the rush take me over. Little by little then faster and faster I peaked. The only way I can describe it now is to say it was like rushes of colored smoke zooming by through my mind.
I heard him coming; the light moans and short gasps. I put my hands on the sides of his face and massaged. “Oh god…” is all he could say as he came back down from his sexual high. Once I was sure he was done I stood up and started getting dressed, and he quickly did the same.
We sat there together on the futon in silence. I suppose we both needed to catch our breath. I was the first one to speak, “I don’t think I can do this job.”
Mr. Donaldson nodded, “I think you should go to college.”
I thought about it for a minute, and in truth he was right. College opened the door to unlimited experiences and to let that go would probably be something I’d regret. I nodded and stood up, turning to him. “Thanks for work experience,” I said with a grin.
He smiled and nodded, “Any time.”
After making sure I was presentable I left his office and started walking toward the front door. Violet turned my way, realizing I was leaving, with a smug look on her face, “Where you going?”
I smiled, “I was fired.”
Violet looked utterly shocked, “For what?”
“I think I’m too qualified for the job.”
In retrospect that was a silly thing to say to her, but at the time it felt good and I’ve learned if it feels good go with it. I saw Mr. Donaldson a few times after that, when visiting my parents from college. We never spoke to each other again, just a nod and a smile. We had an unspoken bond.

Short Story - Megalomania

Jonathan waited outside his office building well past dusk. He had called his wife, Janice, an hour ago to inform her he would be working late, and not to wait up. She told him dinner would be in the fridge, the proper degree and time to heat it in the oven, and that she loved him. She trusted him, a characteristic he found in her to be foolish.

Trusting anyone, Jonathan knew, was a ridiculous and absurd action. To take anyone on their word, to Jonathan, was the equivalent of putting a bullet through your own chest and expecting the man walking by to perform emergency surgery to save your life. It’s possible the man might be a surgeon, and have the proper tools on him, the likelihood was low, however, and you wouldn't want to bank on it. It was a thing of make believe and to Jonathan it was a thing for fools.

Jonathan lifted his wrist and examined his watch, she was late. If there was something he found more disgusting than trust, it was tardiness. He had lived his life by a certain set of principles. One must never be late. If Jonathan had to wait later than expected he assumed the person did not respect him. Tardiness was rude and unacceptable behavior. There were no excuses. When the door opened and the pretty blond receptionist exited, Jonathan was beginning to fill with resentment for her. Even her smile set him on edge.

"Hello Mary."

She must have seen the aggravation on his face, or heard it in his voice.

"Sorry John, Mr. Fredricks kept me late."

Mr. Fredricks was her boss and Jonathan's as well. Meaning their behavior outside of work had to be kept quiet for more reason than just his marriage.

Mary smiled. "Shall we? I'm dying to order room service, I'm starved."

Jonathan wanted to hurt her, or at least say something awful that any normal man might regret but the alternative was going home to his wife, children, and a cold meal.

"Let’s go."

Jonathan arrived back home at around two in the morning. His wife was fast asleep, but she had left the living room light on for him. He sat down in his recliner and pulled his feet up. He contemplated turning the television on, maybe catching a sitcom rerun, something to take his mind off tonight's set back, but he knew better.

"Keep your eyes on the prize."

He picked up the framed photo on the table next to him. It was a picture of his family. In the photo he stood next to his wife with his arm around her. In front of them stood his six year old daughter Katy, and their twelve year old son, Zachary.

The photo had been taken four years ago. He was sure his wife and daughter were upstairs in their beds, but he couldn't be sure where his son was. Sixteen and a wild child, as Jonathan put it.

He sat the photo back down and stood up. He made his way down the hall and opened the first door on his left, his home office. They had bought this house three years ago when he was promoted to Assistant Director. He had insisted on the house, even though it was only a three bedroom home, and he had also insisted on a home office, even though that meant his teenage son would have to share a bedroom with his little sister. Zachary didn't understand the sacrifices needed. Yes, the house was smaller than needed, but it was located next door to the Mayor. His future political ambitions didn't seem very important to his son, which angered him. In the past three short years he had even built a solid friendship with the mayor, they had even spoken of his political future while standing over the back yard grill! How could his son act so indignant?

Just then he heard the front door open, he listened closely as he heard his son enter the house as quietly as possible. Nothing in the world made him angrier than his own son. He thought back to his wedding day. He knew it was difficult to run for office without a family so he had married the right woman. Janice looked the part in every way. As she aged she gained a certain grace about herself that reminded him of the former first ladies. He also knew she would never leave or cheat on him, reducing the chances of a scandal.

He listened as his son entered and closed his bedroom door. Things were taking longer than expected. He figured he would be much farther along in seventeen years, but busting into the political scene turned out to be harder than he thought. Things were coming together now and he refused to let anything get in the way. He picked up a brochure that lay on his desk. "Northern State School For Boys" was written in big black letters on the front. It was a boot camp more than a school but Jonathan didn't care, as long as it got his son out of his way, without damaging his image, it was fine. The school was highly respected and his son would get a good education, in all subjects, not just academic. He had his wife and sweet looking daughter to carry the weight, it would work.

The only problem Jonathan saw was the fact that his wife probably wouldn't agree to send her son away unless she felt he needed to go. He knew his son had to be doing drugs, drinking, sleeping around, and who knows what else but he hadn't had any luck in proving it. He had told his wife of his worries on several occasions but his son kept his room clean, without even a single pornographic magazine as evidence. He needed proof, and now Jonathan was left with only one choice.

He left his office and stood outside his children's bedroom door. He took a deep breath then knocked three times. It took a minute for his son to answer the door. Jonathan wondered what his son was up to but put those thoughts aside, he was on a mission. The door opened and there stood his son, possibly half asleep, more likely inebriated. Zachary had a tall black mohawk that Jonathan knew raised his blood pressure every time he saw it. His son's nose, eyebrow, ears, and tongue were all pierced which made him cringe at the sight.


"Yeah?" he son said, obviously annoyed at the disturbance.

"Listen..." Jonathan started, not exactly sure how he was going to pull this off but having enough faith in his savviness to continue.

"...Tomorrow is Saturday, and I think we should spend it together. We haven't exactly been on good terms lately and I'd like to make it up to you, son."

Jonathan allowed himself and inward giggle at the use of the word "son."

Zachary just stared at him, for what felt like an eternity, obviously sizing his father up, un sure if he should trust him. He knew he would. People are drawn to trust, their biggest downfall.

Zachary sighed,

"alright dad, sure, why not."

Jonathan spent the next morning in his office going over paperwork, knowing full well his son was not awake nor would appreciate being woke up. Finally, around noon, he knocked on his son's door. After what he figured to be an appropriate wait time, he opened the door and entered his children's room. The bed was unmade on Zachary's side of the room, but no sign of Zachary. He listened closely and could hear water running in bathroom next door. "He's in the shower." Jonathan said out loud with a small laugh. He took this surprise moment to quickly slip something in his son's bottom dresser drawer. The drawer had been empty and Jonathan knew it was unlikely to be checked before the time came. He then stood and took in his surroundings. On the right side the walls were painted pink. His daughter's bed was made, with a small plush pillow that pronounced "PRINCESS." there was a dollhouse on the floor at the foot of her bed, with dolls surrounding it. The other side of the room was a typical juvenile delinquents bedroom. The walls were painted black and covered with band posters, his desk was covered in food wrappers and empty pop cans making it hard to see a laptop computer also shared space on the desk. He took a step closer, considering taking a quick peek at his son's computer but the squeaking door hinges behind him saved him that choice.

"What are you doing in my room?"

By the look on his face, Zachary was upset at the intrusion.

"Sorry, I thought you were asleep and thought I'd wake you so we can get going."

Zachary nodded, obviously unsure about his father's intentions.

"Why don't we go tell your mother what we're doing and get going then? I have a full day planned, hate to miss out on something do to tardiness."

"Alright" Zachary replied.

Jonathan walked behind Zachary, closing the bedroom door as they left. They found Janice in the kitchen making Katy a snack. His young daughter was sitting on a bar stool playing with one of her dolls while waiting on her grilled cheese sandwich.

Janice turned from the stove, spatula in hand, are you guys hungry? I can make more."

Jonathan shook his head. "No thank you sweetheart, Zack and I are going out today, A little over due father-son time."

Janice beamed with excitement. "Really? That's wonderful! You boys have fun!"

Jonathan turned to his son, handing him his keys. "Here Zack, you can drive, go warm the car up while I say goodbye to your mother."

That did it. Using the nickname "Zack" and allowing his son to drive forced his son into full excitement and trust.

"Sure!" Zack said and ran out of the room before his father could change his mind. Jonathan then turned to his wife as she placed a sandwich on a plate for her daughter.

"We need to talk...alone" he said looking down at Katy. Janice nodded and followed him into the living room

Jonathan had it all planned out, he forced himself to look distressed.

"I'm taking Zack out today to talk to him, to see if I can get him to confide in me. Last night he didn't get home till after two in the morning, and as he passed my office I could smell marijuana and alcohol."

His wife's reaction was as he expected. He could see the water works we're well on their way. "Shh..." he said as he rubbed her arm, "I'll take care of it, I'll talk to him, we can get him help, but i do need something from you. I need you to search his room. If he's hiding drugs in there we need to find them."

He knew Janice hated breaking her son's trust and privacy but he also knew she figured there was no longer a choice. She nodded. "Alright, I'll look."

Jonathan's day with Zachary was long, boring, and extremely tiring. He took his son to see a movie, they had pizza, and finally after hours of this torture he instructed his son to drive them to the lake. It had taken him less than an hour to come up with this plan, and it was flawless.

He prided himself on is cunning and intelligence. Sometimes, when at lunch, he would sit on a park bench and just watch people walk by, thinking about how ignorant they were or about how easily he could manipulate them. Since he was a child he knew he was different, but when he became a teenager was when he realized what he really was. He was a god. Everyone around him worshiped him, would do anything for him. All he had to do was make them realize it.

After parking the car, both Jonathan and Zachary sat there in silence for several moments. Surprisingly, it was Zachary who broke the silence.

"Thanks for doing this Dad, to be honest; I always thought you hated me."

If Jonathan had been a normal man, or in his own mind; a mortal man, this statement might have been upsetting, quite possibly heartbreaking even. Jonathan only allowed a brief mental laugh before responding.

"I could never hate you, you’re my son. I love you. You know that."

Zachary nodded, "Thanks. So why did we stop here?"

Jonathan laughed, "Well your sixteen, and I don't imagine you’re a stranger to this but..." He pulled a small bag from his pocket.

Zachary's eyes widened in shock, "Dad, is that pot?!"

Jonathan was sickened, his own son thought him so stupid as to think his son hadn't smoked marijuana before.

"Yes it is, it's alright. Your sixteen, I smoked at your age and I guess it’s sort of a rite of passage. Anyway I'd rather you smoke it in front of me than somewhere else where you could get hurt."

Jonathan rolled a small amount of marijuana into a joint and passed it to his son. "There, go ahead, light it up."

Zachary took the joint from his dad, somewhat reluctantly. "Wow Dad, I never would have guessed you as a pot head."

It took everything for Jonathan not to strike his son in that moment, to call his father a "pot head”, such a disgusting title, was a huge insult to him.

Zachary lit the joint and took a long drag, then tried to pass it to his father.

Jonathan shook his head. "Sorry son, can't, this stuff is reserved only for the young."

Zachary looked at his father and shrugged, "Alright."

After his son had finished off the joint Jonathan got out of the car and walked around to the driver side door and opened it. "Alright, I'm driving now."

Zachary happily relinquished his seat and once back on the road Jonathan spoke again.

"Do you have a friend's house you could hang out at until it wears off? I just would rather your mother not see you like this."

Zachary nodded. "Yeah just let me out at the park, some friends are there, I'll hang with them till dinner time."

As Jonathan pulled up at the park he turned to his son. "Now don't tell anyone what we did, you know, don't tell anyone you got it from me. It would..."

Zachary interrupted him.

"I know, I know, it would ruin your chances of running for office." Zachary smiled. "Don't worry dad, I got your back."

Jonathan laughed as his son got out of the car, but he was laughing for a completely different reason.

Jonathan returned home and was very excited to see what his wife had found. When he walked through the front door Janice was sitting on the sofa, her face down and hair tumbled down the sides of her face. "Honey?" he said rushing to her side. "What's wrong?" trying to sound as concerned as possible.

Janice lifted her head and it was obvious she had been crying. She didn't say a word, she simply pointed at a bag on the coffee table. Jonathan knew what was in the bad, he had been the one who bought it, but he had to look to show surprise at the finding. He opened the bag, trying to act more frightened than excited. Inside the bag was another bag filled with a large quantity of white powder.

"Oh dear God." he turned away to smile, Janice thinking otherwise.

"It's what I think it is, isn't it John?"

Jonathan nodded. "Yes, but it's worse than that."

Janice stood. "Worse? What's worse than finding out our son does cocaine?!"

Jonathan sighed. "No dear, if he was doing cocaine than we would have known sooner, with this much cocaine he can only be selling it."

He waited till the words soaked into his wife's mind. He hated how thick she could be. Then it hit her. Her eyes widened and she began to sob.

"I didn't want to mention it, because I wasn't sure, but after this I guess I have to. Today at the restaurant some of Zack's friends were there. They all went into the bathroom together. They were in there for a long time. When Zack came back to the table his eyes were blood shot and I could smell the marijuana very strongly. We have got to do something."

Jonathan sat down and pretended to be thinking. After what he felt to be enough time he looked up at his wife, who was now pacing. "There's only one option, and I think you know what that is. It's either that or he ends up in prison."

Janice swallowed hard and nodded. "Northern State School For Boys."

1 YEAR LATER

"Janice!" Jonathan called down the stairs. "Have you seen my blue tie?!" He listened and heard his wife walking up the stairs. They had moved two months ago into a two story house across town. It was everything he had ever wanted and felt pride in his accomplishment, although it was nothing compared to this day. He had ran for State Senate and had won, help in part from his new best friend, the Mayor, and all this connections and friends.

Janice walked into the room, and simply pointed to the bed. Jonathan turned and seen the tie laying there. "Thanks" he said. She stared at him and walked out of the room without a word. Right around the time he bought the new house was when Janice found out about his affair. She had planned to leave him, but once Jonathan reminded her that her face would be in every newspaper if the affair became public she changed her mind. She said she would leave once Katy was in college, but he doubted that. Seven years was a long time to become accustomed to the life of the rich. She wouldn't give that up so quickly, nor would she take it with her. He would kill her before she saw a cent, and he had told her so.

Zachary, according to his new school, was a adjusting well and apparently had decided to join the military after graduation. That was fine with Jonathan, anything to further keep his son out of his hair. Zachary wrote home often, but the letters were only addressed to his mother and sister. Apparently Zachary had decided that he no longer had a father. Even better, Jonathan thought.

Jonathan was on his way out the door when he seen the mail man place a letter in their box. He retrieved the letter and stared at in surprise. It was a letter from Zachary but it was addressed to him, the father he said he no longer had. Jonathan quickly stuck the letter in his briefcase and got into his car, eager to get to his congratulatory party. Janice agreed to meet him there, along with Katy. He had to keep up appearances and she was well aware what would happen if she did not attend this event. In truth, Jonathan's anger had only increased over the past year. It seemed everything upset him. He told Janice that it was the stress, but he knew he was becoming less able to deal with everyone's ignorance, especially hers. There had been several occasions where he had struck her.

The next day, while sitting at his desk at home, he opened his briefcase and came across the letter from his son. Before he could open it the phone began to ring. He opened a drawer and tossed the letter inside. The way he figured it, the letter was most likely just hate mail. A long rambling about how his father had ruined his life...Etc...Etc. Jonathan didn't have time to read a letter written by a cry baby.

Two weeks later, when Jonathan returned from a business trip, he found his wife in the living room absolutely ecstatic. She was sitting on the sofa, Katy at her side. They were talking to someone Jonathan couldn't see. When he walked into the room he seen, sitting in his recliner, Zachary. "Hello Father." He son greeted him. It was obvious his son had taken on some changes in his time away. He no longer sported a mo-hawk, now his hair was done in a clean crew cut. Instead of his punk rock clothes he now wears military style attire, assigned to him by his school.

"And what do we owe this visit?" It was the only thing Jonathan could think to say. First the letter, now here he was in person.

"I know things haven't been great between us dad, but I'd like to change that. Mother wrote me about your political win, and I thought I should come, and celebrate this achievement with you."

Jonathan just stared at his son is disbelief. Of course he knew his son had to be up to something, but what? What was his angle? What was his game? Jonathan had to find out before it was to late. He knew his son could ruin everything he had worked for.

After dinner the newly reunited family sat around the table talking. Zachary told stories about his fellow peers back at his school. "So how are you handling military school?" Jonathan wanted to see how his son would react.

Zachary smiled. "Great. I really think it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I'm learning a lot"

Janice smiled and took her son's hand. "I'm happy your here."

Jonathan stood up, "Well I have a long day tomorrow, I better get some sleep."

Zachary shook his head. "No way, tomorrow is Saturday. I leave tomorrow night. I was hoping to spend some time with you."

Jonathan wasn't sure what he should do, but there really wasn't much he could do so he nodded. "Alright, I'll cancel some appointments, I can give you two, maybe three hours tops."

He didn't wait to see if his son agreed to this or not, he turned and went to bed.

The next day when Jonathan came downstairs he found his son at the kitchen table waiting. "I rented a boat" his son declared.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, "A boat?"

"Well, yes, we missed out on the normal father-son stuff so I thought we could go fishing."

Jonathan wanted nothing more than to not go fishing with his son, but it was only for a few hours, and then his son would go back where he came from and everything would then go back to normal. "Alright, let’s go fishing."

It really was a nice day; even Jonathan had to admit that. Out on the water there was a cool, refreshing breeze. Jonathan pulled two cokes out of the cooler and handed one to Jonathan.
"Did you read my letter?"

Jonathan turned to his son, "What? Yeah I read it."

"What did it say?" his son pushed.

"What did is say? I can't remember word for word. Watch your pole, if you get a bite it will go right over board."

Zachary turned and looked at his fishing pole, and with a shrug he threw it into the water.

"What did you do that for?!"

Zachary smiled. "You didn't read my letter."

"How do you know that?"

"Because if you had..."

At this point Zachary produced a small hand gun and pointed it at his father.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy! Put that away!"

"No Dad, you’re the crazy one. You sent me away for reasons I don't even understand, you beat my mother, you cheat on her, and it’s only a matter of time until you start hurting Katy too."

Jonathan shook his head. "We're going home right now and then you’re going back where you came from immediately."

Zachary laughed. "No, I'm going to kill you. It's a simple fact."
Jonathan stood up. "You won't kill me, you can't or you would have already. I CAN'T DIE!"

"You’re a monster, but a mortal one, you are going to die."

"I'm a God! Your mother stays because she worships me! You worship me, admit it!"

Zachary closed his eyes and pulled the trigger; the bullet hit Jonathan in the chest and forced him over board. Zachary rushed to the side and watched his dad; eyes wide in horror, float away and slowly sink.

Zachary returned to land, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?"

"I just killed my father, we were on a boat, I shot him and he fell overboard."

Zachary was arrested; Janice couldn't wrap her mind around it. She couldn't believe her son had killed him. God knew she had thought about doing it so many times. She was angry now that she hadn't herself. Then at least she would be going to prison, not her son. His lawyer was hopeful though. He said because of the torment Zack could plead not guilty due to insanity.

Janice decided to sell the house and move into something smaller for her and Katy, possibly something in the country. She had almost everything packed; the only room she had neglected was her husband's office. When she finally walked into the room she had planned to just throw everything away, but not wanting to overlook anything important, she started going through the desk drawers. She found Zachary's letter in the last drawer she looked in. It was addressed to her husband and unopened. She opened it quickly and read it:

Dear Father,

I will be making a little trip your way in two weeks. I am going to rent us a boat, to go fishing, but once we're on the water I am going to kill you. I have a gun now, and I'm going to shoot you with it. You have a chance here to save yourself but I'm not worried. You'll never even open this letter. How do I know this? It’s because you don't care. because there couldn't be anything in this letter that you need. Certainly not praise, because you know I would never praise you, I have no kind words for you. So you will never open this letter, and you will never know what is to come. I know what you think, you think you’re a god, but I'm going to prove you wrong. Because gods don't die.

-Zack

Janice stared at the letter in disbelief. She knew what this letter would do; it would prove that his father's murder was premeditated. She quickly put the letter into her husband’s paper shredder along with several other unimportant pieces of paper.

"Zack was right, you’re not a god, but I do hope you burn in hell."

Poem-Passion Fruit

Passion Fruit

His lips against mine, I feel so erotic.

The sweet smell of fruit, something exotic.

His hand reaches down, to my warmth hidden low.

His fingers move gentle, he touches me just so.

I scream out in pleasure as my orgasm comes near,

It's building inside of me, I'll explode I do fear.

He stops just short of climax, it hurts; I want to scream.

Now he's smearing it across my chest, whipped cream.

He licks and flicks his tongue,

I'm on the verge, I want to come.

He gets on top, so fast, and slides himself inside,

I scream and yell "Oh God Yes!" my delight I can't confine.

He pumps so hard and fast, I cannot stop the rush.

I scream his name and claw his back, my ecstasy can't be hushed.

He comes so hard, my mind explodes, the end is here at last.

We lay in bed, legs in-twined, until the after glow has passed.