Of Heaven and Hell My Side

Before I start I want to thank Catheath, for being my editor, consultant, muse and friend. She is kind and patient with her help and guidance. Even her criticisms make me feel good.

This is why these stories are dedicated to her. She is a warm, wonderful and very beautiful young woman. Again, thank you Catheath.

This story is a first for the old Baron, writing from the female point of view. I hope that it works. Please let me know.

Be warned...as usual the story goes on for a long while before you get to any erotic scenes, but I believe that it will be worth it. Again, let me know.

I should mention that in working on the female orgasm I read "My Take on Writing a Female Orgasm," by Redhairedandfriendly. It is an excellent article.

Chapter 1

I slowly walked toward the gate. The gate that would take me to the airplane, which would take me far from this, the most wonderful city in the world. The plane that would take me back to Santa Fe, back to the University, back to the classrooms and the students, back to the Convent of St. Mary.

I stopped and turned around. He was standing there watching me. I took one step toward him and then rushed back into his arms. He held me tight and kissed me. I tried to melt into his arms, to become one with him...forever.

"Last call for Flight 451 to Santa Fe International Airport," came over the PA System. The clerk then said, without the aid of the PA, "Ma'am If you want to get this plane, you better go now."

We broke apart and he gave me a sad smile and said, "I love you, Carol." I quietly said, "I love you, Zack." I looked into his eyes and said, "In answer to your question of Wednesday morning...YES my love...yes...I'll marry you." I turned and ran through the closing gate and walked to the plane. The stewardess who closed the door was walking behind me and said, "It's not easy leaving him, is it?"

I gave her a smile and said. "One of the hardest things I have ever done."

"I know what you mean, but you will be back together soon, I know it."

"Yes, we will."

I found my seat and after stowing my carryon bag under it, seeing that the tray table was secure and ensuring that my seat was in an upright position, I put my head back, closed my eyes and thought about how things became so crazy...so wonderful.

It's funny, usually at this point, the storyteller says something like, "Where should I start?" or "I'm not sure where this all began." But, I don't have that problem. I know exactly where this started.

Around seven years ago, I was standing in a classroom in St. Steven's High School, in a rather tough section of Baltimore. This was my first teaching assignment, fresh out of MIT with a degree in mathematics. I had recently taken my final vows in the Order of St. Benedict. I was a nun and now a high school teacher. Truth be known, I wanted to be a nun, but I would have rather been somewhere else. Teaching a bunch of tough high school seniors was not exactly what I wanted to do.

But, I had taken the vow of obedience so when the Mother Provincial said, "Carol, You will be going to St. Steven's in Baltimore." I said "Yes, Mother."

St. Steven's also had the Christian Brothers de La Salle (the French Christian Brothers) teaching there. Like us, their mission was to teach the sons and daughters of the poor and working class. They were a tough bunch of Brothers, they didn't take any guff, but the kids absolutely loved them.

Now, I wouldn't want you to think that we Nuns were a bunch of pushovers. We "Bennies" could be just as tough as the "Frenchies." And the kids liked us too, as much as the Brothers? Yea I think so. Where they could be more physically intimidating, with us nuns it was by force of will.

It was the first day of classes and I was in my homeroom. I was standing by the window looking out when I heard someone walk into the room. I was told that Zachary Miller would be the first one in. His mother drops him off early, as she had to be at work in the office of a nearby factory.

I turned and saw a handsome young man walking into the classroom. He was about six feet tall with light brown hair and light blue eyes. He was well built, with broad shoulders, a thin waist and a light easy gait. I could imagine that he could have his pick of the girls here at St. Steven's, in fact, probably anywhere.

I smiled and said, "Good morning, I'm Sister Carol. You must be Zachary. I was told that you are usually the first student to arrive."

He stared at me. His blue eyes were as big as saucers. His jaw dropped and he walked right into a desk, which crashed to the floor with Zachary falling over it and his books flying all over.

I quickly ran over to it and helped him off of the desk. He was stammering, trying to put some words together. Seeing that he was okay, I sat in one of the desks and laughingly asked, "My goodness, Zachary. Do I look that frightening that you fall over desks trying to get away?"

His eyes got even bigger, if that was possible, and he stuttered, "No, no, no, Sister you're not frightening...not at all."

"Just hideous, huh?" I said with a smile.

"No Sister, you're not hideous, you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seeeeeeeennnnnnn."

I don't know who was more surprised to hear that. When he realized what he said he turned a deeper red and stammered, "No...no I...I...I didn't mean that..."

I couldn't help teasing him. "Then I'm not beautiful."

"Oh God...Oh no...I didn't mean that...you are, but I 'm not supposed to tell..."

My heart went out to him and I placed my hand on his shoulder and said, "I'll tell you what Zachary, why don't you take your books and go out side and then come back in and we will act like this never happened. We will start all over again."

He got up, picked his books up and as he walked toward the door, I softly said, "Thank you, Zachary. No one has ever told me that before."

"Then everybody around here must be blind." Was all he said as he walked to the door and went out.

I had expected him to just walk out and come right back in. But he didn't. The classroom slowly filled, but no Zachary. Some of the other students commented on his absence. I was beginning to think that maybe he was too embarrassed to come back. Had I teased him too much?

Just before the bell rang, Zachary walked into the room ever so slowly. One of the young men said, "Hey Zack, where you been?"

It was like he didn't hear that. He was looking at me. In keeping with our charade, I said, "I'm Sister Carol, I will be your homeroom teacher this year. And you are?"

He started to stutter again and said, "I'm Zack, no no, I'm Zachary...Zachary...ah Zachary Miller."

"Well Zachary Zachary Zachary Miller, I think that I will just call you Zachary, if you don't mind, it's a bit easier that way," I said with a laugh.

The class picked up on that and started laughing and one group, who I later learned were on the swimming team, started to chant, "Zachary Zachary Zachary... Zachary Zachary Zachary."

I put my foot down and stopped that right away. But, as he walked down the aisle, I couldn't help saying, "Be careful, Zachary. Don't trip over the desk." He turned a bit red and took his seat.

I spent the homeroom time telling the class that I had just graduated from MIT and that I had just taken my final vows and that they were my very first class. That they were my first class made more of an impression than anything else. One of the girls yelled out, "Hey that makes us your Firsts."

The rest of the class picked up on that and from that moment they called themselves "The Firsts."

The homeroom class was also my religion class, however, Zachary was also in my Advanced Placement Calculus and Trigonometry classes. He was a good student, and a great one in Calculus and Trig. He seemed to understand everything I said.

He could be a bit of a tease, and would clown around at times, but never in an annoying or a hurtful way. He was a good-natured young man.

I soon became conscious of the fact that he had a crush on me. At times I would catch him staring at me. When I did he would quickly look away. I found that it wasn't unpleasant to have this handsome young man admire me.

I did realize that he wasn't much younger than me. He was around eighteen years old and I had just turned twenty-one. But it wasn't the age difference that made the separation, it was the difference in authority. I was the teacher and a nun and he was the student.

The year flew by. I was thrilled when Zachary received a scholarship to Stanford University in California. He credited me with getting it for him. I had written a letter of recommendation. I didn't think that a letter from a teacher who only had a semester of experience with a student had much weight, but he thought it did.

Zachary finished the year as the salutatorian and he received the Calculus medal, I had no input in that, but I wasn't surprised as he had a perfect mark. He lost out to Mary Beth, the Valedictorian by only a half a point. He wasn't bothered by that at all. His only comment was, "Hey, I like Mary Beth, she's smart and a real nice girl."

On the last day of classes, my homeroom met in our classroom after school. They presented me with a crystal sculpture that was engraved with "To the worlds GREATEST teacher. Thank you for being our teacher, mentor and especially our friend. Love your very first class...The Firsts. It was dated the last day of class.

I couldn't thank them enough. As they slowly left I shook their hands and gave hugs to the girls. The last one to leave was Zachary. He took my hand in his and smiled at me. "Sister, I wanted to thank you for all that you did for me. And I don't just mean the letter."

I leaned over and gave him a small hug. "Thank you, Zachary."

He looked at me with a question on his eyes. "For being you," I laughed "And for falling over desks."

He reddened a little and squeezed my hand. As he walked out of the classroom he turned his head and said in a soft voice, "I haven't changed my mind about what I told you that first day."

Then, he was gone out into the hall, I was a bit surprised that he said that. I smiled and as I turned and I walked back to my desk, I saw one of those yellow sticky notes on the crystal. I looked closely. The note was placed just above the engraving. There was an arrow pointing between the words "GREATEST" and "teacher" in a very precise printing it said, "And most beautiful."

My eyes filled with tears. I quickly wiped them, took my sculpture, with the note still attached and went to my car and back to the convent.

At the commencement ceremony, Zachary gave his speech after Mary Beth. As he approached the podium he looked at me and smiled. I was smiling, my favorite student was up there giving a speech.

I felt so proud. To be truthful, I really don't remember what he talked about. I was far to engrossed in just watching him. His facial expressions, his gestures, his eyes and how they would quickly look away when they met mine.

The speech must have been good because he did receive resounding applause, especially from the Swimming Team. As he walked off of the stage, they started that chant, "Zachary Zachary Zachary... Zachary Zachary Zachary..."

After the ceremony ended, I went out to the school lobby, looking for him and his family. I saw him run to the stairway and knew where he was going. Up to the third floor to finish emptying his locker.

I took the elevator, as a teacher I could do that. As I walked down the hall, I heard a locker door slam open. He was so intent in getting everything out that he didn't hear me walk up behind him.

I said, "I thought that I would find you here."

He turned around and I continued, "I wanted to tell you just how proud of you I am. And I have a little something, for you. Just so you won't forget me too soon." I handed him a small box.

He took the box and as he started to open it, he mumbled, "I don't need anything to remember you, sister."

He opened the box. There was a small silver charm, in the shape of eyeglasses the old type that hooked to the nose; a pinz nez.

He looked up at me and I said, "Maybe these will help you to see things the way they are."

He answered in a very soft voice, "Sister, I don't need glasses to see things that way."

I went on, "Well then, maybe they will keep you from tripping over desks at Stanford."

"Since you won't be there I won't have to worry about being attacked by any desks at Stanford," he said with a big grin.

"Zachary, you are incorrigible," I laughed. I could feel my cheeks getting warm as I blushed. I leaned over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "I wish you the best of luck, but the way you work, you won't need any. You'll make your own."

He stood there looking at me with those big blue eyes, his mouth was moving but no sounds came out. Then we heard his fathers voice from the stairs, "Zack, lets get going, we have reservations for seven."

He walked into the hall and said, "Oh, Sister, I was hoping that I would see you. I really want to thank you for all you did for Zack. That letter was absolutely wonderful...but just who were you writing about?"

I could see where Zack got his teasing from. I laughed and said, "I was writing about one of my favorite students."

Mr. Miller was smiling, "Well since you are a nun, I won't comment on your choice of favorites."

I shook their hands and said good-bye and as I walked away, I heard Mr. Miller. "Hey Zack, come back to the world of the living. Wow, you really have a thing for her, don't you?"

I turned the corner but stopped to listen. Yes I was eavesdropping. I couldn't help myself.

"Zack, she is a nun. You shouldn't think about her like that. But, I can see what you see in her. She's a lovely woman." He said in a soft understanding voice.

"Au, Dad, it ain't like that. I like her, but I know that she is a nun. But, I can dream can't I?"

Mr. Miller laughed, "Zack, you're too much like your old man than is healthy. But don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Zack said, "I know, thanks Dad."

I heard them walk down the hall. I slowly walked to the faculty parking lot. I had tears in my eyes. I would miss that boy, I would miss him a lot. Did the teacher have a crush on her student? I guess I did. I wiped my eyes, steeled myself and drove to my cell in the Mother House.

Life went on, the next time I saw Zack was the next June. He and a friend Marty, who had also been in my homeroom and was on the swim team, came back for a visit.

Zack looked wonderful, he was still in shape, still had the infectious, impish smile and the light easy laugh. But, there was a difference and it took a second before I realized just how much the last year had matured him.

I don't know how long he had been standing outside my classroom before I noticed him. When I looked up he had the same look that he had on the first day of homeroom. "He still thinks that I am beautiful," I thought to my self and a warm feeling seemed to flow through my body.

I smiled and he came into the room. I sort of giggled and said, "Watch for the desks, Zachary."

He walked in a very exaggerated cautious way, as if working his way through a minefield. When he reached me he stopped and took both of my hands in his and said, "Sister Carol, my you're a sight for sore eyes."

I pushed him and said, "Zachary, you haven't changed a bit."

He smiled and said, "God, neither have you. You are lovel..." he stopped, then he gave a little laugh shook his head and said, "Sister, you look as lovely as ever."

He was no longer the student. He had grown.

We stood there holding hands, talking about our year and then Marty came busting into the room. I let go of Zack's hands and turned to welcome Marty. They left a short time later.

As I had just received my Masters Degree, I was sent to the mid-west, to Minneapolis, Minnesota to teach in one of our colleges and later to Los Angeles when I started to work on my doctorate. I didn't see Zack for the next six years. During those years I lost all touch with him, but I did occasionally receive letters from one or two of the girls who had been one of the Firsts.

All they seemed to know about Zack is that he was still good looking and was in the Army. I never heard any more about him. But that didn't mean that I never thought about him. I still had that crystal (I called it the ice berg) and that yellow sticky on it. The yellow paper wasn't sticky any more and I used scotch tape to hold it on.

Zack had become a one of those warm wonderful memories that we treasure.

After receiving my Doctorate, I was sent to a small university just outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico. I was teaching subjects I loved, to students who wanted to learn. I had a couple of undergraduate classes and a few graduate classes. I was in heaven.

I was lucky enough to have a paper published in a rather prestigious journal and in March of the following year was asked to speak at a conference of mathematicians, in St. Louis. The people running the conference would be footing the bill for the flight and the hotel room, but I was on my own as far as meals went.

The money that was given to me by the order was more than enough to pay for my food, just as long as I didn't eat out every night. I was comfortable with the situation. And I was very excited about giving my talk. I was also very nervous. I would be talking to people who knew my subject as well, if not better that I did and many who formulated postulates that I had worked with.

I arrived at the hotel on Sunday afternoon, as I was giving my talk on Monday morning they wanted me there on Sunday. After unpacking my bags, I went down to the lobby. I was going to go out for a walk, I had never been in St. Louis and wanted to see the city. I also thought as this was my first night here I could splurge and I would have dinner out.

As I walked through the lobby I saw what I thought was a familiar face. I looked closely and thought, "Oh my God, that's Zack...that's Zachary Miller." He had really grown up. There walking through the lobby was not a young boy but a man. A very handsome and mature man. It seemed that he had a slight limp...but I didn't pay attention.

I gawked. I was lucky that there were no tables or desks in front of me or I would have walked into it. Without thinking I blurted out, "Zachary Zachary Zachary Miller."

He looked up at me and smiled. Then it was like he really saw who was talking to him. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. In an instant he became that eighteen-year-old boy in my homeroom at St. Steven's.

He still thinks that I'm beautiful? The way he was looking at me really made me feel that way.

He took a couple of steps and then he stopped and looked all around. I thought that something was wrong and said, "Zack, is something wrong?"

He looked up at me and smiled that mischievous smile and said, "Just checking for loaded desks, can't be too careful you know."

I started to laugh and took both of his hands in mine and said, "Oh Zachary it's so good to see you. But, what are you doing in St. Louis?"

"I'm here at the Maritime Symposium, I'm giving a talk tomorrow in the early afternoon. The organizers wanted me here tonight. So here I am. But, what are you doing in St. Louis, the last I heard you were out here in the mid-west, teaching at some college."

"I'm in New Mexico now, just outside of Santa Fe. It's a small university and I'm teaching math to undergrads and graduate students. They sent me there after I received my doctorate. I love it," I said.

He smiled and said, "That explains why you look all tan and healthy. A doctorate? I'm really impressed. Tell me do I call you Doctor Sister Carol or Sister Doctor Carol?"

It felt good to see that he hadn't changed, still a tease. I laughed, "Just Carol will be good." Then I realized what I said and I closed my eyes, knowing what he was going to say.