AUTHOR'S NOTE:
CONTENT WARNING:
Student/teacher dynamic and large age difference. If these topics are not for you, please skip this story. For everyone else, enjoy!
Parallax is a re-imagining of one of my earlier stories,
Shari Holds a Torch.
I've chosen to leave the original story up for those who want to read it and for those who prefer the shorter version.
Indeed, loneliness dies tonight...
Solitude can be a blessing or a curse, depending on a person's point of view. If you asked Velma Blount, she might say that, for her, it's been a blessing. Over the years, she'd found ways to embrace solitude and use it to her advantage. She was, and continued to be, one of the most respected teachers at Talcott High School. Miss Velma Blount put her heart and soul into teaching. She'd spent the last 25 years teaching gym classes and coaching a variety of after school sports, making her a veteran in the front lines of education.
The years had made her an expert at wrangling untold numbers of rowdy teenagers. Prissy, high-maintenance girls were a challenge she took on with particular ease and enthusiasm. Miss Blount had ways of getting even the most headstrong student to comply. This often meant that the students sometimes didn't like her very much. Though she was seen as a brusque taskmaster (and sometimes tyrant), she was also known as firm but fair. Velma's friends and colleagues got along very well with her. A few would even go as far as saying they admired her. Solitude presented endless opportunities for self-improvement, and Miss Velma Blount was a real go-getter. She was never one to let an opportunity go to waste.
But loneliness was a different matter. Loneliness, with its passing resemblance to solitude, was far more intense. As time passed, loneliness reared its head more and more, edging its way into her busy life like a needy friend turned stage 5 clinger. Velma's father was a consummate type-A personality. From an early age, Wilmer Blount pushed the value of a strong work ethic on Velma and her kid sister, Esther. When boredom or loneliness creeped in, there was always a fix: Stay busy. But staying busy wasn't always easy.
Velma was born and raised in Thatcher Blake, the same mid-sized city of around 150,000 she continued to live and work in. Aside from being the younger sibling, Esther Blount was the pretty one; the feminine straight A student. A real mother's little helper who was sure to catch the eye of a nice young man someday and become his wife. Velma, on the other hand, was an average student. She was the epitome of a tomboy with her plain, somewhat masculine appearance. But she excelled in sports and physical fitness. Her extraordinarily slim frame and tall stature gave her an advantage over her classmates; boys, in particular. She was nimble as a ballerina on the tennis courts, could trounce the competition in basketball, and she could easily run a mile in 4-6 minutes, depending on how energetic she felt that day.
Before she became a teacher, Velma attended the same Talcott High as a student. Although her grades remained average, she handily won the prestigious Best Female Athlete award three years in a row. As a teen, her work ethic and dedication to physical fitness grew. She became president of the Varsity GAA and treasurer of the Individual Sports Club. In those days, the Girls' Athletic Association was the closest thing a teen like Velma had for competitive sports. In those days, girls were not allowed to wear jeans or "slacks," as Velma called them, to school. Girls were expected to become wives and mothers, not athletes. Times, back then, were very different.
For Velma, it was a world of saddle shoes and bobby socks. Sweater girls were in, and just about everyone was obsessed with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. Life seemed to revolve around football games, pep rallies, and student mixers. Teens gravitated to the closest five and dime or corner drug store for sodas and ice cream. If the gathering was a date, it usually ended in a parked car shrouded in darkness beneath the starry night sky.
As far as Velma was concerned, dating was a thorny subject rife with more than the usual pitfalls. Unless she was off to practice or competing in some after school or weekend game, Velma found herself stuck at home and dateless on a Friday or Saturday night. She was used to it though, often shrugging it off. Dating was something the popular kids did, like cheerleaders and jocks. They always had first choice. Cheerleaders gravitated towards the tall muscular guys; the ones with a military cut or fade, shiny with too much pomade. Of course, most of them were on the Varsity football team. Predictably the jocks looked for the girl with the tightest sweater with the largest breasts--double points if she was a blond or redhead.
So, what was an awkward teenage tomboy like Velma to do?
Stay busy.
And so she did, obsessively honing her energy on running and sports through the GAA and ISC. The Girls' Athletic Association was one of the most popular clubs back then. Pins and letters were routinely awarded to the best athletes. By senior year, Velma had one of the most decorated sweaters in the whole school. But even though plenty of girls (cheerleaders included) participated, membership in GAA carried a stigma.
Of all the girls in her graduating class, it seemed like Velma Blount carried the brunt of that stigma. She stood tall at an intimidating 6'2'. Luckily, her overtly slim frame was balanced and well-proportioned. And although she impressed almost everyone with her various feats of stunning athleticism, her physical appearance presented a jarring contrast and a constant barrier to fitting in with her classmates. Boys often treated Velma like an annoying kid sister or cousin while others outright shunned her, pretending, more often than not, like she wasn't there.
Velma Blount was no ordinary tomboy. She was, quite simply, unabashedly, and unapologetically, butch. Her long face, as slender as the rest of her, was alarmingly masculine. Her light sandy hair was always cropped short and blunt. Her equally blunt bangs revealed thick eyebrows that emphasized her angular features and eyes the color of clear ice. Her gaze, hoary and penetrating, alarmed some and caused others to look away. If she got a nickel for every time someone told her she had a face for radio, she could've retired from teaching 20 years ago.
But Velma never really cared what any of the boys thought anyway. She had no use for them. Her mind and eyes were focused on the girls. If there was one thing Velma had in common with the jocks, it was her appreciation of feminine beauty. After graduation, Velma attended Illinois State and the University of North Carolina where she earned a Bachelors and Master of Science respectively. In college, she saw other young women who shared similar traits and, she suspected, similar predilections.
College and grad school gave her a sense of finally fitting in, but it only went so far. Here, Velma Blount thrived. Her grades improved significantly, and it wasn't long before her academic skills matched her superior athleticism. But the troublesome loneliness persisted. While her classmates led what seemed to be colorful social lives, Velma's involvement stagnated. Although she'd made several friends, none of them ever went beyond casual.
Perhaps her standards were too high, but Velma didn't think so. She wasn't attracted to other butch women. She preferred femmes. A petite young lady with a slim build, long lovely hair, and beautiful features never failed to grab Velma's attention. And it wasn't a simple preference. She coveted these attributes to her occasional detriment, and ended up scaring away a few romantic prospects.
Stay busy.
Velma was never shy about her dominant and aggressive personality, but she never pushed. She'd seen more than her fair share of fellow butches coming on too strong. The occurrences were so common, they were almost formulaic. They'd spot some young knockout in a pretty dress and heels; some girl way out of their league. Casual conversation might lead to a date for coffee someplace, provided the girl genuinely accepted the offer. More often than not, she'd excuse herself to the nearest bathroom and disappear. She might even get her boyfriend or husband (if she was married) to sort it out. Any time that happened, the butch was introduced to the business end of some threatening words at best, or the guy's fist at worst.
Stay busy.
Words to live by. Since her first year as a member of Talcott High's esteemed faculty, Velma devoted every second of her life to teaching and coaching. Her desire for a beautiful little femme remained strong as ever, but putting her career and self-esteem in jeopardy just wasn't worth it. She dated several women over the years, but the relationships were often short lived and unfulfilling. The persistent desire to balance her solitude and loneliness even led to a few nasty breakups.
She could hardly forget one incident in particular that left her feeling bitter and humiliated for days. It was after the end of one school day when she stopped by a little bookstore downtown after picking up a few things she needed from the nearby Woolworth's. After browsing the stacks for a few minutes, she struck up a conversation with the clerk behind the counter.
What was her name? Oh, yeah, Hayley--Hayley Rundle.
She wasn't exactly Velma's type. Still, the girl was young, fresh-faced, and very pretty. She laughed a lot and seemed to like the gym teacher's company. She even asked when she'd be back to visit.
Velma stopped by the bookstore a few more times after that. Coach Ike Linley, PE department head and head Varsity football coach, placed an order for the new Varsity Strategies manual written by former New York Giants Defensive Tackle, Rosey Grier. Seeing another opportunity to chat up the lovely Miss Rundle, Velma volunteered to pick it up on her way home. The towering gym teacher went right to the counter and was greeted by Hayley's radiant smile. She looked like she was, what...about 30, maybe 32 years old? Velma never bothered to ask. In fact, she never even asked if Hayley grew up in Thatcher Blake. It never crossed her mind at the time. But after several minutes of lively conversation, Velma did ask her out. And to her pleasant surprise, Hayley said: "Yes, why not!"
"A small group of friends I get together with are having a Christmas party two weeks from today. We usually meet at a church close by for Bible study and fellowship. Most of them are teachers--"
"Like you?" Hayley asked.
"Well, they're not all gym teachers. Some teach English and math and science. One or two teach elementary, but I can't remember which grade exactly." Velma said thoughtfully. Then she realized what Hayley meant. "Ah--there won't be any...men at this party, or in our Bible study groups...if that's what you're asking." The Amazon woman leaned across the counter and her voice dropped to nearly a whisper when she saw a customer lingering at the magazine rack a few feet away.
A conspiratorial smile spread across Hayley's face. The lovely girl behind the counter seemed amused and not the least surprised or put off. "I'm already scheduled to closing shift that day." She said. "So, if you don't mind writing down the address, I'll meet you there."
It snowed the day of the party, covering everything in glimmering white peaks and drifts reminiscent of the royal icing on gingerbread. The party was at the home of Miss Jude Horst, a fellow PE teacher at Kent Junior High. Hayley arrived several minutes after Velma, parking her car near the end of the block. The beautiful Queen Anne House, strung with colorful lights, was packed with guests. The driveway was full, and Velma could hear the melody of Frank Sinatra's Christmas Waltz in the chilly night air.
