The Ties That Bind

(Concluded)

The drive down to the shore was uneventful. I tried to keep my mind clear, not thinking of anything in particular, keeping my eyes on the road and refusing to give my problems any thought at the present.

I arrived at the cottage a couple of hours later, unlocked the door and turned on the heat to get some of the chill out of the place. It wasn't large. There was a cozy living room, a small dining area and a galley kitchen. There were two bedrooms with an adjoining bath. I plugged in the fridge, opened a cupboard and was relieved to find an unopened can of coffee. I promised myself to do a little food shopping. With the coffee brewing, I stepped out on the porch and gazed at the rolling surf about 30 yeards to the east. It was chilly, but the sea air felt good.

Suddenly, from next door, I heard a shout. "Hey, David. Good to see you. Where's Shelly?"

I smiled and waved. The man calling to me was George Malone. He and his wife Betty had lived there since he had left the Army around 10 years before and we had gotten friendly with them. He had retired as a Brig. General and they both had vowed that as soon as that happened they would move somewhere along the south Jersey coast ,especially since Betty had been born and raised in Longport. Sadly, Betty had passed away about six years later from cancer, but George continued to live in the small, seaside cottage.

"Hi, George. I'm here by myself this time." I shouted back. I could see a question in his eyes. I knew what he was thinking, Shelly was always with me - why not now?

George left his porch and strolled over, walking up the few steps to me. I shook his hand, glad to see him actually. "David, since you're here by yourself, I'm going to insist that you have dinner with me. Please, you know it's no imposition and I would be glad for the company."

"Thanks, George. I'll take you up on the invitation. I'll do a little food shopping tomorrow and stock the place for a few days."

He nodded and told me he would see me around 6. I watched him walk slowly back to his house, noting that his gait had gotten a bit slower. I knew that he was now in his mid 70s, but he was still a vigorous man. Tall, well built with a full head of hair that was just now starting to turn gray. He had always fascinated me, especially since I had discovered, quite awhile ago, that his job in the Army had to do with psychological warfare. In fact, he had headed that unit at the War College for quite a few years. I liked George - there was no bullshit about him. You always knew where he stood.

I was at his door at 6 as promised. He welcomed me with a Heineken and a pat on the back. "Have a seat, David. The steaks are almost done and the baked potatoes are in the warming oven. I've got a fresh rye bread and that's dinner. No substitutions," he laughed.

We had a good and filling meal and I helped him clear the table and get the dishes in the dishwasher. The steaks were broiled in one of those disposable broiling pans and that was quickly disposed of. I liked that idea, no muss, no fuss. I would have to remember that because I suspected that I would be cooking my own meals from now on.

We got ourselves comfortable in the small living room, George in his easy chair and me sprawled on the sofa. We had replenished our beers and I felt full and relatively content for the first time in quite awhile. That wasn't to last long though.

"Okay, David. What happened?" George queried. "Obviously, something massive has come down. It's written all over your face. You know that the two of you have become very dear to me and you also know that Betty doted on the both of you. We're friends, David. This is what friends do," he concluded quietly.

I sat quietly for a moment. "Shit," I thought. "Lyle and Millie know, as well as Susan and Connie. No sense in keeping it a dark secret." I looked at George fondly and nodded. "Yeah, George. I'm totally screwed up," and then proceeded to tell him the whole story. He listened quietly, only interrupting once or twice to clear up a point. I finished and the silence was almost palpable. George seemed deep in thought and I had no idea what was going on in his mind.

He looked up at me and asked, "David, do you know yet what you want to do? Have you decided on a course of action?"

I was taken aback for a moment. I was surprised that George had asked me a question like that. Had I made a decision? Hell, yes. I wanted a divorce. I wanted out of this marriage, and I told him that very emphatically.

George sighed and settled himself deeper in his chair. "David, I fully understand how you feel. But some of the details of what you told me give me pause. You mentioned words such as maniacal, hysterical and manic. You said something about - devoid of emotion. You also said something about her eyes being blank, as if she weren't really there mentally. You also mentioned something about a tube of K-Y jelly. Think about that, why would she have K-Y jelly? Was it because she was dry, not aroused?

"You also told me about Shelly's condition when you finally were able to go to her in the bedroom. I was also very interested in Lyle's reaction to this event - his opinion that it was rape and that an Asst. DA concurred. I really think that you should hold off any action until you get a hell of a lot more information than you now have," he said quietly.

He paused and my mind went back to the conversation I had had with Connie. She also had cautioned me to hold off until I had a better grasp of the whole picture. George must have seen the indecision on my face because he rose and got a couple more beers from the fridge. He put one in my hand and held up a finger, indicating that he had something to say.

"David," he began. "Get yourself comfortable. I'm going to tell you a story, a story that I've never told anyone before. It's rather lengthy and I'd appreciate it if you don't interrupt. This goes back many, many years and I may stumble on some of the facts, but you'll soon understand the theme." His face had turned grave and was there a faraway look in his eyes as he started his tale.

"This little story starts in my teenage years," he began. "I was born and raised in a section of the city that was decidedly lower-middle class and in a neighborhood that was almost all Irish Catholic and made up of working class men. I got into the usual trouble, no more or less than the rest of the neighborhood kids. The only difference was that, for some strange reason, I did very well in school. Learning was easy and I thoroughly enjoyed my classes. I rarely had to study hard to get top grades. Kids don't like a smart ass so I had to learn to defend myself and I did that quite well. The other kids finally decided that it wasn't worth the pain fighting with me and just accepted my quirk - that ability to do very well in school." George had a small smile on his face as he recounted that portion of his boyhood.

"Okay," he continued. "I was lucky. My uncle had, at one time, done a favor for Joe Kelly, the local pol. Joe was in tight with our Congressman and worked it so that I got an appointment to West Point. Yeah, I couldn't believe it myself, but my grades were excellent and, shit, I was going to West Point."

George paused and glanced at me. "Don't get too impatient with me, David. I'm giving you background so that you'll understand the rest of this story - okay?" I nodded and he resumed.

"My first few months there were hell. Don't forget, I was a wise-ass kid off the streets and I didn't take too well to the massive doses of chicken shit that was coming down. But I also was not dumb enough to do anything about it, so I just sucked it in and did what I was supposed to do. Also, the school work was a lot tougher then what I was getting in high school, so I actually had to do some real studying. After awhile I got into the routine and as the years passed it got easier. It's always easier being an upper classman.

"Okay, to cut this part short, I did well, my grades were above average and the four years went by quickly. I was also smart enough to appreciate the fact that the Korean conflict ended before I graduated from the Point." George chuckled and remarked, "No one wanted any part of that fiasco. We were all grateful. Graduation was coming up soon and we were all excited, awaiting orders letting us know what our next assignments would be. I was a bit shocked to discover that my orders read that I was to continue my education. It looked like the Army, for one reason or another, wanted me to pursue a Master's Degree with majors in Education and Psychology. A program had been running at the University of Oklahoma in Norman and I was to be part of the second class. My orders were to report to a Major Edmunds. Okay, bottom line was that I reported as ordered and spent the next year and a half getting my Master's Degree in Educational Psychology.

"Now while I was "diligently" studying and keeping my grades above average, I was also getting tired of being alone in the company of men. In the four years at the Point, there was little opportunity to get laid and I knew enough not to mess with the local talent there. You have to remember, the Point was not co-ed at that time. Now in Norman, it was a whole different ballgame. Even though Norman is a college town, it was small and kind of parochial. No one would ever mistake it for New York or LA or Chicago. Despite the limitation of my studies and the paucity of hot, single women, I did okay in the "romance" department. There were plenty of cute, little co-eds who just "loved" a man in uniform." George chuckled again and I had to struggle to stop myself from laughing out loud.

"I met Betty Klein around the middle of that first year. She was from a little town near the Texas border and she thought that Norman was the most sophisticated place in the world. She confessed to me that she was awed when she first got to the university and it took her a bit of time before she really felt comfortable in this environment."

George stopped for a moment, his eyes gazing inward, remembering. He resumed softly. "She was a junior in the school of Education and was going into her senior year. I'm sure you heard of "love at first sight" and believe me, that's exactly what happened to me. I thought that she was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. She was about 5'3, weighed maybe 100 pounds soaking wet, light brown hair, blue eyes ............" George had stopped talking. He sat, remembering and I was saddened to see the moisture in his eyes. He shook his head and continued.

"We were introduced and I spent the remainder of my time in Norman courting Betty, trying to convince her that we were meant to be together - together for the rest of our lives. I just couldn't envision a future without her. Fortunately for me, she felt the same way. We traveled down to her home town. I met her folks and her younger sister Emily and we got officially engaged. We graduated together; she with a B.A. in Elementary Education and I had my Master's in Ed. Psych. I also had leave time so we went back to Betty's hometown and got married. My folks flew down and it was like old home time. They loved Betty and got along well with her family..It was a small affair and there wasn't a lot of fuss, for which I was grateful. We honeymooned in Galveston and I knew, deep in my heart, that I was the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

"I had orders to report to Ft. Benning, Ga., one of the largest basic training centers in the country. The damn place was huge, like a city and Betty was again awed. You might think that I had taken her to Paris, France. She couldn't get over all of the amenities: supermarkets, hundreds of shops, restaurants, movies, name it and it was there. She was like a kid in a candy store. We were assigned housing, just a small place with a postage sized lawn, but it was fine for us.

"I was assigned to planning for programs for new recruits and was put to work almost immediately. I was being trained at the same time by two first lieutenants and a captain. Nice guys, but senior to me in rank. I was brand new, a second lieutenant, which is like a buck private. My only saving salvation what that I was a West Point grad., that saved me from a lot of grief. I didn't quite have to take a lot of the shit that a new shavetail would have had to.

"We were lucky in that Betty got a teaching position with the Dept. Of Defense teaching army brats at one of the bases elementary schools, so we managed as far as money was concerned.

"I absolutely hated being a second Lt. and I started to work my ass off trying to get promoted, to win the silver bar. I was the liaison officer that would travel to the various basic training schools in the southeast and check on the results of the tests the recruits were taking - test that had been developed here at Benning. It really wasn't a lot of travel, but I was gone on an average about two days a week. So between the travel, staying late at the office and working my ass off, I had really started to neglect Betty, but you know Betty - sweet, patient Betty. I knew it wasn't fair to her, but I really wanted that promotion.

"So after a few months of this shit, Betty finally got really pissed and read me the riot act. 'Look, George,' she finally snapped. 'I really don't give a shit about your promotion, especially not if it's going to screw up this marriage. Do you know how long it's been since you've made love to me?' she asked.

"David," George looked straight at me. "David, do you know that I didn't know how to answer her. I had actually forgotten how long it had been, that's how fucked up I had become. I hemmed and hawed and tried to weasel out, but I was caught. She then told me that it had been almost two months. I promised that I would ease off, and I did for about a week, but that didn't last long. I was right back in my old habit of trying to be all things to all people, even though I knew that Betty was really outraged. I shrugged it off figuring that once I got the silver bar, everything would be ok."

I shifted a bit in my seat. I was becoming a bit uncomfortable with the direction George's tale was taking and I didn't understand the point of it. He saw my unease and put up his hand. "Please, David. Bear with me, there is a point to all of this. Just relax and let me finish, ok?" I nodded.

"Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah. So life went by. My job performance reports were outstanding and my marriage was slowly dying. I vowed that once I got that promotion I would really make it up to Betty. I kept that thought in my mind as I continued to fuck up my marriage. It got so that we barely spoke to one another - it was living with a stranger, a roommate, whatever.

"It was about a month later. It was driving back from one of the bases. I due to return on Wednesday evening, but there was power problems and I got to leave a day early. I was really happy about that. I figured I would drive home, and we would go out and have a great late dinner and some loving at home after. I had called Betty's school and left a message for her, letting her know that I would be home early.

George stopped, his eyes unfocused, his mind obviously elsewhere. He shook his head and continued. "I was driving through Columbus, which isn't far from Benning and I was caught by a yellow light. I stopped and waiting for the green. I happened to glance to the left and across the road, in the parking lot of a motel, I saw a red Miata. I watched as Betty got out of the car and walked toward the entrance of the motel. Coming through those door was a strange guy. They met, and he caught her in a tight clinch and they mashed lips. I saw there in shock. I didn't believe my eyes. Suddenly horns started to blare and I saw that the light had turned. I quickly drove forward and then made a quick U turn and then back to the parking lot. As I drove in I saw the two of them enter a room in front of where the Miata and another car was parked. I sat there as I watched the door close. I don't know how long I sat there. Shit, it could have been seconds or minutes - I just don't know.

"I then started to think. What was I going to do? Should I pound on the door? I had an idea - I would start the car up and drive it into the fucking room, right through the door. I actually started to move the car, until I settled down and regained a bit of sanity. I was totally stunned, my mind couldn't focus, I was so fucked up - I really didn't know what to do. Finally, my brain started to function. Not well, I admit, but some semblance of rationality had returned. Damn, I had to see, I actually had to see her being unfaithful to me. Despite what my eyes had already seen, I really needed to see her. So I came up with a plan. It was ridiculous, but shit, I couldn't think of anything else.

"I straighten my uniform, squared my hat and entered the front entrance of the motel. There was a young girl on duty there. Oh well, I thought. Here we go. I approached the desk quickly with a very serious expression on my face. She wore a small name tag on which was printed 'Denise.'

'Denise,'I said gravely. 'My name is Lt. George Malone and I'm with the Military Police at Benning.' I flashed her my ID card on which there was my photo. It was a quick flash and I put it back into my pocket. 'Young lady, it appears that we have evidence that this motel is being used as a procurement center for prostitutes. I have to tell you that I am now going to call in the local police and cordon off the entire area. Now I understand that this will, of course, create havoc with your innocent guests, but I really don't have too many other options. '

I saw her face blanch and she just looked around for some kind of help. It was obvious that she was on duty by herself at the moment. I continued, 'Look, Denise. I really don't want to have to mess everything up for you. You can do one of two things: you can stand back while this hotel is being ripped apart, or you can just give me the key to Room 112. If you do that, I'll try to keep this very quiet and not even get you involved. Otherwise, all hell is going to break loose and you know it'll reflect poorly on you.'

"I don't know what did it. I really didn't believe that the shit I was giving her would work, but it did. I really expected her to laugh in my face and call the police. Maybe it was my uniform, the prospect of police all over the place plus fear for her job, but she pulled a key with a tag that read Room 112. In all this time she had not said one word. She just pushed the card to me and stood there with her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide.

"I took the card and then put my finger to my lips, indicating that she was to keep her mouth shut. I quickly moved to Room 112. I put my ear to the door but heard nothing. Suddenly, I got cold feet. Did I really want to see what was going on in that room? I stood there undecided for a moment and then smiled bitterly. I knew I was going in. I used the key and opened the door. There must have been some kind of vacuum device attached for the door opened and closed silently. I was in a short hallway with a bathroom on my right. A few steps put me into the room itself. There, lying on the bed, lengthwise, corner to corner, was a naked guy pumping slowly into a broad's pussy. I could see between his legs, his shaft wet and rigid, plunging into and withdrawing from that cunt. I leaned sideways and looked at the face of my wife, lying there with her eyes closed, and her mouth opened slightly."

George stopped, taking deep breaths. I blurted out, "George, for God's sake. Why are you torturing yourself like this, Enough, goddamn it, enough." I really didn't want to hear anymore and I didn't want to see George putting himself through this.

"Wait, David. Let me continue. I assure you, there is a point here to this. I just needed a moment. Let me continue," he repeated. I cringed and resigned myself. I couldn't stop him.