[ Dear Readers:

Usually when you see a writer explaining his story it's a good sign he didn't do much of a job with it in the first place. That might be true here anyway, but there's another reason, which is also why I had to walk away from this for a while.

In a story like this, evolving as it is published, there's the danger that the plot will take a turn that puts it at odds with something in an earlier chapter. The writer's challenge is then to come up with the best way to reconcile what's past and irreversible with what's present and progressing. So it is here, in several places.

As it is probably the biggest of these, I'll cite the widely-criticized decision of Sammy to keep Fred in the dark. Had he done otherwise, Fred would have squelched the shenanigans next door right quick, and without the shenanigans, there's no story. Clearly, it would be better if Sammy didn't find out until Fred did, but way last February, in part 9, I blew that possibility by having Linda, in a moment of mindlessly giddy excitement, prance on over to the neighbor's house and blow that chance away for good. After heaven knows how many abortive attempts at rewrites, I'm going back to my original versions of the next three parts, which is what I'd completed before this hiatus.

So, early on in this chapter, Sammy will grace us with Plan B.

Once again, I'm very grateful to all who have enjoyed this, and those who have criticzed it thoughtfully. I hope you'll find the rest of it worthwhile.

SECRET NO LONGER
Chapter 18
Shock Treatment: The Setup

At the risk of sounding a bit vain, I'll say it. I am pretty darn good at what I do. The technical crisis that forced my ill-fated trip home was put to bed pretty quickly and efficiently. At least, so said the people who should know, and they're not the kind to dish out compliments just to be sociable. They hardly knew the emotional stress I had been under. Perhaps part of the reason for my success was in the way I had avoided the pain by immersing myself totally in my work.

"Fred, I don't even have to tell you that we're almost two weeks ahead of schedule, and a lot of that is thanks to that quick turnaround with the second system. Maybe it was actually good luck it failed when it did; you got the second one ready so fast and now the broken one is working, too. So if you've a mind to take a little R-and-R back home, the ticket's yours for the asking."

"Thanks, Skipper, but right now it's best I stay here closer to the Atlantic. I could use a break, though."

"Take all you need. If anything comes up too soon, we know where to find you."

"Aye, Skipper. So long!"

My priority the next morning was to separate myself as much as possible from both work and family. There's a lot to see in the D. C. area and I played tourist for once, realizing with some surprise how little time I had spent apart from work during my many trips here, here where things to see range from the earliest moments of our nation's history to the space-age fascinations of the National Air and Space Museum of the Smithsonian.

Evening found me with Sammy at the hotel restaurant, quite a good one for its kind.

"Freddy, I've seen you looking a hell of a lot better."

"Thank you, kind Sir, and may I say, you have looked better yourself."

"Then again, Fred, I've seen you look a hell of a lot worse, too--specifically, yesterday."

"No kidding," I replied, sipping a fine aperitif, "A day playing tourist did wonders, Sammy. I'm starting to back away from the trees and start seeing the forest."

"That's real progress, my friend."

"I can't believe what was inside of me yesterday. All I could see was pure evil, wearing the faces of my wife and my son, like every wrong thing on this whole damned planet was all their fault."

"Yesterday the only thing with anything to say was pain," he said, "It killed all your objectivity, your analytical ability, your reasoning, and wouldn't let you see yourself as anything but victim. Just thank your chosen higher power that you didn't have the chance to rip them apart when you wanted to."

"Yesterday was not the time for thinking," I acknowledged, "But we both well know that today is just that. And one thing that is clear to me now is something I find very hard to say, because in the saying I accuse myself, but in the same words, I accuse you. I'm not sure how to start."

"Just don't worry and go right on ahead with it. I'm sure I know what it is, and I already agree with you."

"The pictures..."

"Right."

"And doing nothing about Jason taking them."

"Double right," Sammy said, "But before you say any more, what do you say we drop words like blame and accusation out of this? All they are is agonizing over the past and whose fault things are. I think these are better called mistakes, errors of judgment, things we can learn from. Look forward instead of back, don't you think so?"

"Yes, I like that," I agreed, "So, anyway, we knew about it, we let it go on. Jason always had a thing for Jannie, and first I figured all he'd be interested in was her. Then that got thin and I expected him to keep a lid on whatever he might feel about his mother.

"But then I fell back on the one thing I still find hard to believe didn't cut it short, and that was Linda. How could she possibly have let Jason come on to her without immediately putting him in his place?"

"Don't be so sure it happened that way," Sammy countered. "There's a lot we don't know yet about how it got started."

"Well, however it happened, it happened, and now I can't believe I could be so blind to the warnings right there before my eyes."

"You and me both, Fred," Sammy concurred with an uncommonly self-critical expression,. "We both fell into that same trap. It's the old, old story: the little head spoke, and the big head listened."

"Words of wisdom, Sammy, if a bit late. Hell, we were getting major thrills out of it; we didn't want it to end, so we twisted the facts around to suit our desires."

thrills...facts...desires...twisting facts...desire, twisting facts...thrills and desires...facts, threatening desires...didn't want it to end...didn't want it to end...twisted the facts to suit our desires...thrills...facts...twisted the facts...desires...didn't want it to end...desires...facts...facts, twisted by desire...desires, twisting the facts...thrills, desires, and twisted facts...

"Fred...? Fred, where are you?"

"Huh...?" I muttered as the here and now repenetrated my consciousness, dispersing the strained reverie triggered by the sound of my own words, "Oh, sorry, Sammy. Mind kinda wandered there." The cacophony faded and I lapsed into a thoughtful silence. I needed to ask some delicate questions now and wanted time to phrase them carefully.

"Sammy, I need to ask you something and I want to assure you up front that I am not faulting you for anything, but I need to know."

"Fire away, Fred."

"It's this: What was your reason for not telling me what was going on?"

I was relieved to see that Sammy was not upset by the question. Indeed, he seemed to welcome it, as if it were the hoped-for opportunity to confess some wrong and ease his conscience.

"Fred, you can be sure that I was of two minds about it. There were good reasons to go either way. In the end, though, it came down to this: As you know, this all began when you had been away for several weeks, on the same business trip you are still on now."

"Actually, I didn't know that, Sammy."

"Ah, yes," he said, correcting himself, "I forgot that you haven't been filled in on most of the details. Well, it's true; it started maybe three or four weeks ago, and you've been gone that whole time."

There was a lesson in that for me, and I did not miss it.

"I'm gone too much, too often, and for too long, Sammy," I acknowledged. It was no excuse for what had happened, but I knew I had to give that matter its due attention, and soon.

"Maybe so; only you can decide that. What was clear to me was that if you learned of this from me, over the phone, it would have left you devastated, all the while burdened with your professional obligations and chained to this place, not free to act upon the knowledge. If I ever were to inform you, it would have to be in a time and place something like this, somewhere quiet, where I could break it to you gently, face to face.

"Then there's one more thing. Some years back, I learned that the wife of another friend was cheating. I took the mind-my-own-business approach until I found out that she had done something really egregious and it pissed me off enough to lead me to clue him in. Well, this guy was no Fred, and he didn't have Fred's heart or his wisdom.

"Fred, the guy would probably be getting paroled from Lompoc now if he didn't keep adding assault charges to his record. But at least, if he ever does get out, he'll be leaving with an intact face." He paused and looked straight at me. "They're still trying to put hers back together, and the horrible headaches will probably live as long as she does. Whatever she did, nobody deserves to be in the condition she is.

"Ever since then I've been inclined to keep my mouth shut unless there's a damn good reason to do otherwise. There was nothing to be accomplished by informing you, other than perhaps cutting their affair short, and when I did my best to put myself in your place, I felt that didn't matter much. The damage lay in that it happened at all; the exact duration of it was secondary, or so I believed you'd see it. I couldn't very well ask you, so I took my best shot. I hope I did right by you."

With a few moments' thought, I nodded in agreement.

"By the way, Jannie's coming out here tomorrow."

"That's great, Sammy! Now you can have a real vacation for a change."

"Yeah, we will, but what she really wants is a chance to talk to you. Maybe some things come better from her than from me. And I'm pretty sure she's got some things she needs to get off her chest." He paused for exactly the right amount of time. "And no, I don't mean her clothes!"

"Sammy! How could you think that of me? Why, you know I would never let a thought like that so much as cross my mind!"

Sammy squinted hard and made a pretense of staring out the window.

"Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...it's...it's a pig!"

I clapped him on the back and laughed.

"I plead no contest, Your Mind-Readin' Honor! "

"I don't have to read your mind. I just pretend it's me instead of you."

"OK. Let me know when Jannie's here and we'll have a chat."

"Will do, Fred. And when you do, please try to keep at least half your attention on the conversation instead of her nipples."

Such an explicit and audacious prod might have been out of line between most other men, even friends, but we had long been easy with it. Maybe it was Sammy's intent, maybe sheer accident, but this easy linkage of thought to Jannie's anatomy had a certain resonance with Linda's, one dating back to a earlier and happier time, and just far enough below the level of consciousness to be enjoyed without probing the newer and more painful one.

"I'll try, Sammy, but no promises. They're one hell of a distraction, you know."

"That I know well, Freddy. Oh, one more thing: Don't make any plans for Friday night!"

"Why? What's Friday night?"

"You'll find out Friday night!"

"Huh...?"

"See you later!"



There was one more thing Sammy had in mind for me before her arrival, and he sprang it on me the following day, back at that same park. My mood had improved further, though my attitudes weren't changed much. He had decided that I had lightened up enough to appreciate his story.

"This little anecdote is offered for your entertainment and is absolutely true. My purpose in presenting it is to shock you, disgust you with all mankind, or at least a few certain members of it, that being myself and my loved one, and as a minor side benefit, maybe give you an alternative viewpoint on certain matters which, should you find merit in it, ponder at your risk...er, leisure."

"All right, P. T., let's hear it."

The story is one you've already heard, the one about Rosie and Ben, the couple with whom they had drifted into their first experience of sharing partners. I wasn't sure if he had brought it up at this particular time for some reason connected with our working together on my situation or if he just felt like telling me about it and thought it was a good time. Either way, it was quite interesting to me, and a bit stimulating at times--as long as I didn't let thoughts of Linda interfere.

"So, shocked yet?" he asked as he finished the story.

"Believe it or not, Sammy, I haven't been so out of touch with the world that I'd never have heard about swingers and such. And, very frankly, I've never thought the worse of them, and I most certainly won't about you and Jannie. As far as I can see, there's only a problem if there's selfishness or jealousy or someone is getting pressured into something they don't want--things like that."

"Glad you see it that way. I knew you weren't the type to lay some moral condemnation on me--us---and that's why I told you about this. I thought it was time you knew."

"Thanks, Sammy, I appreciate the thought."

"Good. I've got some plans for the rest of the day, might run into the evening, so don't wait for me for dinner if I don't show up. See you later! Oh, and don't forget, don't make any plans for Friday night!"

"Sammy, if you don't mind, may I please know just what's going on Friday night?"

"You'll find out Friday night."

"You said that already. What I'd really like..."

"Later, Freddy!" In a moment he had disappeared. Well, not surprisingly, there was some sort of plot in the air engineered for my benefit. I had no reason to doubt but that it was benevolently intended, and appreciated the effort, even if the suspense was starting to get to me a little.

Setting that matter aside, I tried to determine if his telling this story really had anything to do with me and my current difficulties. Was it to help me visualize couples enjoying sex with persons other than their mates without guilt or shame, maybe meant to help me see Linda's infidelity as less adulterous? A long stretch that, given that not only was hers behind my back, the very opposite of open, consensual sharing, but incestuous as well.

Was it entirely unrelated? The timing seemed rather at odds with that idea.

I gave up on that analysis and wandered off to lose myself in the warmth of the sun and the slow recovery of my senses. Sammy's anecdote, the playfully explicit advice regarding the allure of his wife's nipples and now this mysterious agenda for Friday night were teasing my mind into a not unpleasant amalgam of thoughts, fantasies and hopes. I couldn't wait to see what mysteries awaited me.



His first day here Sammy had been the picture of neutrality, dedicating himself to helping me to purge myself of poisonous rage. It's no great surprise that thereafter he tended toward urging a more merciful viewpoint toward Linda; after all, I certainly needed no help with the critical one.

Jannie, on the other hand, was here as Linda's emissary. An automatic reflex to view her as an adversary rose up when I first saw her, until I realized that this was precisely the kind of prideful, emotion-driven impulse that could railroad me into choices absent of thought or balance, the kind we're almost guaranteed to regret. At the instant of that realization the impulse died and left no trace. To be led by such motivations is to be a slave to them and a slave I shall not be, least of all to myself.

It was strange to see Janine actually somber and reserved. Her vivacious, outspoken nature, which people who don't know her as well as I do might call brash, are so much a part of her that she seemed almost like a different person. It was almost as if she had brought some of Linda's shame and self-reproach with her.

"It's good to see you like this, Fred," she began, "This has been such a shock, I know, and you've been dealing with it heroically."

"Thank you, Jannie," I replied. Coming from someone else in this capacity I might have suspected the praise was just smoke to soften me up, but from Jannie it was good as gold, and I knew it. "It's very, very kind of you...both of you, really...to go to all this trouble to help out. I'm just not sure if we can fix this up through an intermediary, if you'll pardon the bluntness."

"I'm not here as an intermediary, Fred," she replied, firmly, "Emissary, yes; intermediary, no. I'm really here because there's nobody in the world who knows Linda as well as I do, except yourself, and there are even things a woman can understand about another woman that, meaning no disrespect, men never will. I'm here to tell you what I can from what I saw, and heard, and felt, from your wife, things I could observe, some of which even she was too immersed in to see for herself.

"I am not here to make your mind up for you, Fred. I'm not here to sell you a package of thoughts and decisions. I'm here just to make sure you know everything it is in my power to let you know. What you make of them is up to you.

"But there's one more thing, Fred. I've made some mistakes of my own in this and I have some confessions to make. If you'll hear me out, you'll soon learn what they are."

"Of course I'll hear you out, Jannie," I replied, "but, as much as I wish it were otherwise, I don't have much faith that anything will put this Humpty back together again."

"But at least you're not ruling it out altogether, Fred. You haven't closed your mind and locked yourself into one decision. That's all I can ask. That's all that Linda--Linda and your son--can ask."

I just nodded. She began.

"First, Fred, you know that Linda is the dearest human being on the planet to me, next to my own husband, and in certain ways, even dearer. Nothing, not one word I say or thing I do as long as I'm out here, is meant to hurt her, deceive her, or be hidden from her. You may take that as gospel.

"When we first discovered that you and Sammy had photographs of us having sex and got over a little bit displeasure about it, we were grateful. I won't deny that it was adultery, and many husbands would see Lesbian adultery as even worse than the straight kind. Goes to show how different human minds can be.

So we started having fun with it. It had been going on for a while; things were going great with our husbands, and nobody seemed the worse for it. It turned into a little game all four of us were playing. We even found ourselves playing to the camera sometimes, and I think you guys liked that, whether or not you knew about it.

"Then came the day that we stopped to think about some facts we'd been ignoring until then. The facts told us that Jason, and not either of you, was the photographer."

"So, that's when Linda started getting hot for her son, right?" I asked, trying not to sound too bitter.

"Fred, Linda was furious! Absolutely furious! Livid. She wanted to be Salome, only with your balls instead of your head on the platter, for letting Jason go on with it. She almost got the chance to nail you with it, too."

"Wait..." I interrupted, thinking back, "There was a day, I remember, when she looked terrible, like she hadn't slept. She was really tense. I was worried about her; I thought she might be sick."

"Sick with anger, Fred. That's what it was. She kept quiet because you were on your way to work; she was worn out, and she expected to deal with it later on."

"Then why didn't she?"

"Naturally we talked about it later. She calmed down, and we agreed we were hardly in a position to shoot moral arrows at you. We decided to call off our affair then and let the rest go. That wasn't easy, either. We kept going around and around the fact that if it weren't for Jason's part in this, the rest of it could just keep rollin' along just fine. But we got over our disappointment and moved on. By the way, that's when I told her about our experience with Ben and Rosie. Sammy filled you in on that, right?"

"Yes. Go on." For the first time I really sensed how irresponsible I had been. Granted, Sammy as well, though I didn't care to worry about his part in the matter right then.

"The next phase came a little later. It was about me at first, Jason and me. He's had that May/December crush on me since he was a teenager. Well, now he was a fine adult, well-developed and mature, and free to make his own choices. Now, for the first time, what I had automatically assumed would remain his fantasy forever suddenly seemed possible. Sammy would be OK with it; Linda had a few of those once-a-mother-always-a-mother misgivings, but got past them and saw it would be a great pleasure between two consenting adults, and we didn't think you'd have a big problem with it either."

"Sure, I guess so. You and he are perfectly free to make your own choices, and if nobody's hurt, why not? But it's a hell of a long way from my son and the attractive lady next door and my son and his..."

"Please, Fred, I understand," she admonished gently, "We're on the same page here." I calmed down and she resumed.

"Normally you'd think that if Jason and I were to consummate our mutual attraction it would be somewhere alone, private. But you know me well enough to know that I can be very impulsive. That's how it was one day. It was warm, one of those sweet days where even the wind is sensuous. Linda and I were in one of those moods, if you know what I mean, helped along somewhat by both you and Sammy being away for a good long time by then, and making with some pretty bawdy conversation."

"I know what you mean; I've heard you two a couple of times before," I replied, amused.

"That's when Jason showed up, asking what we'd been talking about. It was a time for a little teasing, nothing unkind, but then that first wild impulse struck me. I got up, turned on the lawn sprinkler and started dancing in the water. It felt sexy, sensuous, and I knew that when my clothes were saturated they would be turning transp..." she caught herself and, embarrassed, subdued the wording a little. "I felt I'd be more...interesting...to look at then."

But Jannie had caught herself too late. Her vivid recollection of the day had already united with her passionate nature to to ignite a severe distraction to her role as narrator and historian, while at the same time the picture of her dancing exultant in the spray, Linda and Jason both conveniently out of frame, combined with her crisp description of the sensuous atmosphere of that moment to tantalize and quickly inflame me as well. My mental gaze centered on Jannie, gleeful as a water nymph, her clothes drenched and thus no longer restricting the view of those breasts and nipples to their mere outlines, now drawing back to a wide shot of her splendid body...

Suddenly, with a crash of consciousness, I was jolted back to the present, realizing that I had been staring fixedly at Jannie's bosom for--well, quite a while. I felt the rush in my face as it turned pure red in embarrassment.

"I apologize, Jannie, I really didn't meant to stare like that. I just..." My voice trailed as I could find no explanation that wasn't merely stating the obvious.

"Please don't apologize, Fred," she replied, voice hushed and with a distinct quiver to it, "I guess I got carried away too. It was a--sweet--pleasant--you know, kinda fun--thing." She was struggling hard to avoid provocative terms to describe her memory and what remained was comically insipid. That, combined with our mutual self-consciousness, struck us simultaneously and we dissolved into gales of laughter, laughter sweet as a nectar from the gods, throwing open the floodgates, letting the tension, apprehension, worry and doubt drain away in a blessed torrent of relief. Each of us sustained the joyful explosion in each other until sheer exhaustion brought us back to peace.

Now the Jannie I knew had returned from hiding. The gleeful spirit had re-emerged, and so, I knew, had the real Fred. Brief though it must be, the respite was refreshing, joyful all the more in contrast to the black business behind it which, though it could not be dismissed, could at least wait a while.

"I can't help it, Jannie," I said, still guffawing, "I was just drilling my eyes right into your... That...that isn't polite. Or something."

"Fred, forget it. I'll consider it a compliment," she replied, easily and sincerely.

Reluctant to let go of this unexpected lightness and peace, we relaxed in silence for a while. Too soon, however, it was time to turn back to the sterner matter of Linda and Jason and Jannie's narrative.

"Fred, this is where I started making some mistakes. Serious mistakes. Mistakes that might have made the difference between Linda hanging on and slipping the way she did.

"As I said, it was all very sudden and impulsive on my part. On a pretext I got Jason out of his jeans and then, on another impulse, dragged Linda into the spray. Her clothes were by no means revealing, but I failed to notice how much that might change if they got wet. By now I should have seen this was heading beyond a little innocent frolic, but somehow I didn't. Maybe I was enjoying myself too much and it warped my judgment a little."

facts, twisted by desire...desires, twisting the facts...thrills, desires, and twisted facts...

"Fred...?"

"Oh...Sorry, Jannie. Something you said reminded me of...something. Just go ahead."

"Of course, Linda could have walked away anytime and I will neither excuse nor condemn her for not doing that. Just try to picture how sexually charged the whole atmosphere was. That's something else about me you may or may not know. Once my own engines are getting tached up to the red line I don't always think so clearly. Sex takes over. That's fine with Sammy, or even some of those other situations you know about. This time, though, it might not have been so good, but that's how it was. The more Jason and I worked to turn each other on, the more it must have struck Linda. Her own judgment was off kilter by then, and wherever her mind was, she stayed and kept watching, keeping some distance, but not leaving either. Again, it's no excuse, but getting aroused can cause some strange kinds of blindness."

"To keep to the point, just a while later Jason and I were down on the lawn, on a cushion that came from somewhere. We were..." she stopped, once again to tone down the intensity of the imagery. "We...started...the big number. Linda came closer, but that's all, Fred. Just watching.

"Here is where I made a big mistake. A huge one, one that still boggles my mind. If anything is going to destroy your respect for me, this will. I hope it won't, but I will have to face it either way. All I can say is that I make no excuses for this, and I meant no harm."

"Go on, Jannie," I ordered, darkly enough to prompt a slightly apprehensive look from her.

"Like I said, when I'm fired up, I don't think really well. Remember that Linda and I have been lovers. Somehow, the idea that it would be terribly wrong to reveal to Jason what he had been seeing of us both only through his telescope failed me. I wanted to give him..."

"A treat?" I snapped with a bitter snarl. Jannie cringed, but kept on.

"Yes, that's about it. In one impulsive moment I whipped Linda's shirt off of her. She was shocked, but she didn't try to put it back on. All of us, all three, were out of control by then, and I was a big part of pushing things over the line like that."

She stopped then and looked at me, not quite meeting my eyes, the very picture of remorse and contrition. Some protective instinct had subdued my reactions in favor of hearing all of this out, dispassionately. Jannie's appallingly bad judgment was deserving of criticism but I felt no motivation to destroy my personal respect for her, and criticizing her actions would be no more than repeating to her what she had already admitted.

"Go on, Jannie. What else happened?" She seemed relieved as she resumed her story. I don't hold it against her that at this moment she omitted the details about Jason touching Linda's breasts. The essence of the matter was stated; that would only have inflamed my anger and weakened by objectivity. I could learn of that later.

"The next day I was very uneasy about what I had done. It should not surprise you that Linda wasn't happy either." She saw questioning in my eyes and her voice rose. "I swear to you, Fred, she did. She was not at all happy with herself for staying and watching us."

"OK, I believe you. Go on."

"Sometimes, when something disturbs you and then the disturbing part of it fades away, it changes, instead of disappearing as well. Maybe to neutral. Maybe to even interesting, even attractive. And sometimes, if how it's changing is uncomfortable and you start to fight it, it just gets stronger. I think you know what I'm talking about now.

"Jason wasn't doing anything to encourage that. He was still himself, nothing suspicious about his behavior toward his mother. But things were changing for Linda. The snake had entered the garden.

"Don't think she welcomed that, Fred. Far from it." Once again her voice rose as she saw some doubt in my expression. "She knew damn well it wasn't good, but it was starting to run away with her and she was begging me to help her get over it. I wanted to do something to help. I did try, Fred, but it didn't help. It was my next big mistake, and it made things worse."

"And that was...?"

"Another secret from the lives of Sammy and Jannie. You heard the first one yesterday. There is one more." She needed a long time to steel herself this time. "I wanted it to help. I thought by telling this other story it would help her realize she's not alone in her feelings and that there are other viewpoints about...it...that aren't so harsh. Maybe if that took the edge off she'd stop wrestling with it and then she could just let it go."

"That wasn't too bright, Jannie," I growled, "I should have expected better from you."

I hated to see the way she seemed to collapse at the force of my censure. As much as I would have liked the criticism to focus solely on the act and not the person, there existed no appropriate way to say that. Now it was harder than ever to recognize the Jannie I knew from our years of friendship.

"I know, Fred, how well I know! But I told her. Do you want to know it now?"

"Might as well," I said, as gently as I could force myself to. "I think I know enough already that the details won't make it much worse."

"OK," said she, taking a very slow, deep breath, "Here it is."

This, as you have probably already guessed, was the Mark and Maria story, only now with real names, which happen to be Jerry and Costanza. Whatever. Any other time that part where she got fired up and took on that person at the party would have been a real kicker for me. Certainly, not now.

"So, there you have it. Little Miss Fix-Everything has now broken the machinery worse than before." Jannie stopped, eyes downcast, facing straight to the floor.

I was having trouble believing anyone could pull something that lunkheaded. Of course, as you know if you've seen the earlier parts of this story, she was telling the truth. About this, and everything else.

"All right, then. Go on."

"That night was for her just like the one we talked about before, only much worse, because now she wasn't furious with you; she was furious with herself. It was a runaway train in her mind now and she was desperate. You think she looked bad that morning before you went to work? Believe me, she was a work of art that time, compared to what I saw now.

"We jawed about it; she felt better, but was no nearer to putting this monster to death than before. She said it to me straight right then. I'll say it to you straight, too--if you're ready for it. Make very sure you are."

"I am, Jannie," I said, after taking time to prepare as best I could. Even so, I wasn't too sure.

"I can recall the words, verbatim:

"The horrible thing about all this is that there are two opposing passions burning inside me now. No way do I love Fred any less, and no way would I ever willingly indulge myself against him. I swear that to you and myself right now. So then, what is the other? I suppose I could say it a couple of ways, but perhaps the best one for our purposes right now is to say that the second passion is this frantic need to find some way to be able to...hell, I'll say it dirty; maybe that will help...I want to find some way to fuck Jason without hurting Fred. There. I've said it."

Yes, it was damn good she warned me, though even so my wife's words set me reeling for a while. Such a crazy mixture of conflicting messages! Like a ball in a nightmare's version of a pinball game, my mind darted from one to another and again, randomly, trying desperately to extract comfort from the good parts, and understanding from all of them, and failing.

There was no reason to be shocked at her admission; it was nothing more than stating the compulsion to do exactly what she had done, and what I had caught her at, her and Jason. My dying effort to make something positive of this revelation passed, and the whole thing melted into one gray, homogeneous mass. At least I'll have it to draw upon later, I thought.

"Go on, Jannie," I said. She must have expected an explosion, because she visibly relaxed when it didn't happen.

"Fred, this is the one and only time I have ever yelled at her. I had asked her if she was sure she could resist temptation and her answer was equivocal. I told her, loudly, that wasn't good enough and she should find a cave to live in until it blows over. Or a convent, or something like that.

"Well, I don't know exactly how it happened after that. One way or another, she snapped. She turned into a different person. It's almost enough to convert you to a believer in demonic possession, so far removed she had become from herself."

Once again, that mental flailing took over. For a while my image of her shifted radically, from sinner to a woman newly fallen from a lifeboat, suddenly swept away by the violent sea around her, helpless as a bit of flotsam. I struggled to hold onto that picture. Tragic as it was, it was better than the one of the duplicitous betrayer of my trust that had been haunting me from that terrible day of discovery to this. I could not, and it faded.

"The gist of it, Fred, to pass over details that don't really change anything, is that she suddenly was trying to live two lives at once, two completely separate, distinct lives, with no part of either one overlapping any part of the other. I swear, over and over, she did not want to hurt you; she just wanted to chase a silly dream, rewrite reality top to bottom, but just for a little while. She thought she could do it all, get it out of her system, and jump right back into her old self, with nothing changed but a few crazy memories left over. We both know--we all know--it could never have turned out that way, even if you'd never gotten wise to it all. But she was getting lost in it, and I didn't know how to even talk to her any more. Maybe this was another mistake, maybe not, but for the most part I just pulled back and let her--them--carry on, not saying anything to either support nor criticize. Anything I might say that even hinted at reconsidering her behavior annoyed her."

I don't know how long I remained there, deep in thought. Jannie, to her credit, did not try to run from my reactions. She had one more thing to say, and said it very softly, nearly inaudibly.

"I can assure you now, that is all over. The Linda that waits back home has recovered her values, but now they have become her enemies, shouting the depths of her depravity back into her mind without taking a breath, every waking moment, maybe even when she's not awake. You know how her upbringing was; she's prone to that, and now the superego has flattened a bullhorn against her ear and launched into a Jonathan Edwards harangue that doesn't pause a moment to come up for air.

"The lies she fed herself to keep the illusion going are dead and burned, the ashes scattered to the four winds. She is listening again.

"What is not the same is her spirit. That, Fred, is silent now, but I refuse to believe it is dead forever. At this moment all that can be seen is the hollow shell of a woman. I pray that someday, somehow, the right things will happen to breathe life into it again."

"I can pray for that too, Jannie," I replied, my tone just like her own. "But I cannot promise that I'll be there to see it happen, much less help it to happen. Maybe it's true, Jannie, that there was a lot of pressure on her, and Jason, too, and that it came upon them--indeed, all of you--unannounced and unexpected. In fairness, that has to be allowed for.

"But in the end, Linda and Jason are not puppets. That same maturity you cited as reasons to enjoy sex with Jason--and I am not questioning that--makes them accountable for their actions. It falls to me to find as much understanding as I can in their circumstances, but they made their own choices. They alone are ultimately responsible for them."

"I won't dispute that, Fred," Jannie replied, "But please remember that goes for me as well. And Sammy. And Fred--lest you forget--it goes for you.

"Think about it, Fred. There are five, five of us in this. And all five have made mistakes that contributed to it turning into what it did. Nobody's entirely at fault, but nobody is completely innocent either. Every one of us, every single one, had a hand in creating this tragedy."

There was much to absorb now, and I needed time to absorb it.

"Shall I leave you alone now, Fred?" Jannie asked, her voice subdued almost to a whisper.

"Yes, I think you should. I have a lot to think about."

"Goodbye, Fred."

"Goodbye."

This was Thursday. That mysterious Friday was almost here. Now I wasn't so sure I cared about it.

I wasn't sure about anything.

(to be continued)