The image filled half of the screen and was divided in half vertically. One side of the image was dark. The other was lit but showed only an actual desk-top, the grain of a stained wood surface. There was movement and a hand wearing four heavy gold rings came into view. The hand quite clearly belonged to an African-American man.
"Hey girl - ain't I told you punctuality is important." His voice was firm and serious but also had the tone used by a man repeating something for the umpteenth time.
"I'm here," responded an immediately familiar voice. The second half of the screen became illuminated and revealed the face of Zoe.
That was the biggest surprise so far for the watching Isobel. However, she couldn't spend time finding out more. Zoe had only gone down to the store this time and so she had to move quickly. Practice made her fast at downloading the file and setting everything in Zoe's room to rights. She was out and clear long before she heard the front door.
***
It had been a long day. Concentration on the everyday business of life and job hunting had become increasing difficult over the last few days. Today, knowing what remained unwatched on her computer, it had been well nigh impossible. Zoe had apparently suspected that something was happening - had asked her more than once if everything was alright.
That hadn't made things any easier. Isobel felt herself engulfed in the complications of what she had uncovered and it only grew more difficult as she found just how deeply her friend was involved in all of this. It wasn't just file-sharing or seeking out sexual stories and clips.
How was she supposed to react to that? Should she get in contact with her sister and Zoe's father? That would mean coming clean on just how she had found all of this out. She couldn't honestly say that she felt guilt about that because if she did she would have stopped doing it - right? However, if her snooping on Zoe wasn't a betrayal of her friend then telling her business to her parents most assuredly would be. Zoe wasn't a vulnerable minor. She was a smart young woman of twenty-one and she made her own decisions now. Her father had got ahead in life by knowing just what he wanted and being unafraid to go after it. Maybe Zoe had learned that lesson and was putting it to use. Besides, Isobel's sister and brother-in-law were pretty liberal types. If the racial aspect of all of this offended them then they wouldn't appreciate being forced to show it.
All of the above was just a tortuous minefield of potential disasters. It also kind of ignored the fact that she had known about all of this for over a week now. How could she explain her silence since then. 'Well you see sis I've been too busy jilling off to all of the interracial hardcore pornography I've stolen from your daughter's computer.' That would be just great. So each passing day made it more and more impossible to reverse her initial inactivity.
It would be a much better idea to talk to Zoe herself. Initially embarrassing perhaps but she could get over that. Except, again, what could she say? It would be too easy to come across as having the wrong motivations. To end up pushing Zoe further and faster along the route she was exploring. When it all came down to it what was a little dirty talk on the computer anyway? Just because the man on the other end was African-American that shouldn't make any difference should it? Except that it meant the man on the screen was that much more attractive for certain women. Women apparently like Zoe. Women, as Isobel now had to admit, like herself.
So her mind churned around the same old facts, the same rejected courses of action, the same eagerly grasped reasons to end up doing nothing. She was only really jolted out of her reverie at dinner when Zoe announced she was going away for two or three days. 'Staying with friends - to sort something out before she went back to college.' Those words could hide a lot. Who were the friends and just what was planned? It wasn't her place to interrogate Zoe unless she wanted to open up those multiple cans of worms.
It was so difficult and she knew what she herself really needed. Too many hours over too many nights had been spent reading those stories and watching those clips. It was all scrambling her brains. She needed a good night's sleep and then she might be able to think straight again.
***
That night she dreamed those same dreams once more. Dreams that had dominated the hours she had spent in bed over the last week. Dreams following a certain theme. Always herself, sometimes Zoe too, replacing the women in the stories and the videos. Becoming submissive playthings for Black men and offering themselves up as willing tribute. Not exactly the feminist ideal but when she was in that dream-world she felt that this was the true reality and she felt herself happy and satisfied. More than in her waking life, much more than in her failed marriage.
Waking from such a reality was always a disappointment. So it was today but she still noticed a certain change to the usual light. She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was nearly noon. So despite her dreaming she had also got a lot of deep sleep. She wondered about Zoe and then remembered that she had been heading off pretty early to be in the city for nine. Isobel appreciated that the younger woman had clearly decided to let her sleep on.
Isobel certainly felt better for it - especially after a wash and some cereals. The light looked wonderful outside and she decided to go for a walk. It really did her the world of good. Fresh crisp air, the welcome developing warmth of the Spring sun, the signs all around of nature's revival. She felt as she walked as if all her recent fatigue and a solid two years of serious disappointments were sloughing off her. She seemed to have escaped her recent confusion as surely as she had escaped the house's four walls. By the time she got home she knew what she should do.
On arriving back she opened the screen-door and found a parcel. It was no surprise to find Zoe's name on it. She picked it up ready to put it somewhere safe. A piece of the wrapping had been insecurely attached or had come adrift in transit. It flopped to one side and through the remaining wrapping she could very faintly make out some written letters. 'M - A - N- Z.' before a second layer obscured the letters completely.
Isobel felt her heart beat faster and the old excitement of the last two weeks return. That had to be 'Manzikert', a word used as part of a password in a lot of Zoe's secret online activities, didn't it?
Isobel took the parcel to Zoe's room and left it on the desk there. Her friend hadn't taken her laptop with her. Isobel gave the machine a glance and then turned and left the room. She felt a certain satisfaction at abiding by her new felt resolution. Later on she would delete all of the 'borrowed' files on her own computer. That was really the only thing she could do. If Zoe wanted to talk about anything then she would of course be happy to help if she could. Otherwise, she had no place interfering.
So that decision was made and she felt all the happier for it.
Except, of course, that she had at least two days in front of her and very little to do. She cooked herself a midday meal and spent the afternoon cleaning the whole house from top to bottom. She tried to get into some job-hunting but the whole idea had become a little ridiculous to her. It was more realistic to just find herself a job in retail or the like.
There were a hundred channels on the TV but nothing she wanted to watch. The momentary pleasure of her resolution had long departed. Instead she remembered the excitement of the last few days - a savour in her life that had now utterly departed. She was realist enough to understand that this was no coincidence.
That fact played its part. Allied with the fact that what she did was so easy to justify. At least it was if you wanted it that way. She never had looked at that 'log' video properly and it was perhaps the one that could actually tell her something because it was the one that featured Zoe.
So, in the end, her determination didn't last out the day. She found herself typing in the password and watching the video's opening moments again.
***
"That's not fair," said Zoe, "I'm not late and besides you know I've had a busy day."
"You went then." It was odd for the other half of the conversation to effectively be a disembodied voice. Only the man's hand appeared on camera. It had struck Isobel before that while the female participants in these videos were always shown clearly, sometimes blatantly identified, that was seldom true of the men. That had to be a power dynamic thing but if so then all participants seemed OK with it. Zoe, for instance, seemed excited to be there on camera.
"I went - I was curious I guess. It's sort of one of those things I've thought about a lot but that I kind of needed motivation to move on."
"So you found that motivation?" His voice was like melted deep chocolate now - smooth and seductive.
