"Hey, I bet I know what it is," he said jocularly, keeping a smile on his face to show encouragement and understanding. "It's about a girl, isn't it?"
"Y-yes, in a way. A… a woman. A grown-up woman," Mark sniveled helplessly. "Mrs. Dodge, m-my English teacher. I love her, Dad, I really love her!"
Roger was gripped with the wildest temptation to laugh out loud. How normal! How perfectly innocently natural, and to top it all, Mark thought he was in love with none other than Miriam! But one look into his son's pain-flecked eyes and he knew that to laugh now would crush him to the core. Instead he soothingly said: "Well, don't feel bad. She's a lovely woman, Mark, and I bet half the kids at school have a crush on her."
"But… But they didn't do what I did to her," Mark groaned.
"What was that, son?"
"I… I…" Mark took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed together as though expecting an executioner's ax to fall. "I… I raped her!"
"You what?" Roger dropped his jaw open like it was shattered glass. "You did what to Mrs. Dodge?"
"Me and Jo – me and some buddies, we made her drunk at the dance last night," the boy uncontrollably blurted out. "We got her up to the gym storage room, locked the door, and then made her lie down all naked on one of the mats. Then we fu – then we took turns on her, over and over, in her snat – down between her legs and sometimes even in her mouth! Then we left her there, lying like she was dead. Oh, I don't care if she wanted us to do it to her, she didn't at first. I hurt her, Dad, I know I hurt her plenty!"
She wanted us to… for some reason that phrase burned deeper in Roger Trenton's brain than all the others of his son's confession. He felt as though he'd been struck over the head with a baseball bat and his breath knocked totally out of his lungs. Christ, he'd heard rumors about Miss Flannigan but he'd chalked that up to gossip. Boys loved having fantasies about being man enough to make love to a woman, and a desirable woman like Miriam would replace old Flannigan on this new year's list with no trouble at all. But this was his own child telling him! God… was it possible? Mark… with Miriam, his Miriam! His insides churned with the lewdness of the very idea, but it was too wild a story not to believe!
"Now you're mad at me! I can tell! You hate me now!" Mark struggled against his father in his effort to break free, but Roger held his son tightly to him in a firm but gentle grip.
"No, son, I'm not mad," he said, trying to calm him. "I… I simply was shocked for a moment. I… I don't understand, that's all. I mean, you called it rape, but – the way it sounds to me…"
"But I forced her to do it with me," Mark blubbered helplessly. "It wasn't like last Sunday, when she was nice and kind and told me she was my new mommy…"
"She… she said she was your mother?" Roger gasped in a hoarse whisper. Good God, what had that woman been up to with his boy?
"Y-yes," Mark said, trying desperately to explain things and make them better. "When I saw her playing with herself in her shower, she took all my clothes off and then we got on her bed, and she wanted me… wanted me to…"
"Fuck her!" Roger blurted, before he realized that he was talking to his own son. "She wanted you to fuck her!"
"Uh-huh," Mark nodded, wiping away his tears with one tiny balled fist. "It was the first time for me, and… boy, did it feel good! It felt good when we all did it to her last night, too. That was kind of fun, but I know I hurt her deep down inside her heart. And I love Mrs. Dodge like I love you, Dad. That's why you gotta do something, Dad, you just gotta!"
Roger felt seething anger begin to boil up inside his chest. Christ, she'd seduced his own son the day after she'd coldly turned him down. The gall of that bitch! He looked at his tearfully pleading boy, feeling at a loss to know what calm and rational advise to give one so young which wouldn't harm his growing mind further. Yet all the while he tried to contain the increasing flames of resentment and bitterness that were licking higher at the alcohol in his blood…
"Son, you didn't rape her," Roger said slowly, carefully. "If Mrs. Dodge wanted you to make love to her last Sunday, then she's the type who'd want you to do it again to her last night. You said yourself that after a little while she did. I bet it was just that there were so many of you boys that she was scared at first."
"Gee, you think so?" Mark whimpered eagerly. "You think maybe she doesn't hate me, and maybe I could go see her again?"
See her again… to fuck! Roger swallowed thickly, gazing at his young boy seeing for the first time that despite his tender age of fourteen, Mark had been forcibly wrenched into the beginning stages of adulthood, whether ready for it or not. So he doubted that the experiences would shatter his development – but now, what could he tell his son? Not to ever see Mrs. Dodge again because what had been done was dirty and sinful? He himself had tried to get into her panties, hadn't he? Mark would see right through his lie, and much of the trust he'd tried to bridge between their generations would be lost. He had to play it straight and honest with his child, as he'd always done with him…
"Tell me, Mark," he said after a moment, "would you want to continue making love to Mrs. Dodge if she wanted you to?"
"Gosh yes!" The lights of hope and love sparkled in the youth's dark eyes. "Gee, Dad, you're really swell. You understand! Do you think you can make things right again?"
"Let me think…" Roger relaxed against the back of his chair, patting Buck with one hand idly while he sipped the last of his brandy with the other. He had to protect his son… but it was too late for much of that any more. Mostly, he wanted to punish Miriam. He wanted to punish her so cruelly that she'd never forget. Half-drunk, smarting with righteous indignation at the way he'd been taken in by her phony front of modesty, Roger Trenton suddenly was filled with an insane desire to fuck that bitch like his son and all his buddies had fucked her. What a fitting retribution for the shameless little child molester, he thought wickedly…
"Son, Mrs. Dodge kept saying she was your mother, didn't she?"
"Sure, but we both knew she was only make-believing."
"Well, make-believe or not, how about all three of us going over to her house now? You, me and Buck. After all, if she's your mother, then I'm her husband, right -? and husbands have their rights too, you know!"
"Oboy! You mean make it a family affair?"
"That's the ticket, son… if you don't mind me sharing her with you."
"Gee, Dad, how could I mind that? I think it would be great if you could love her as much as I do! And Buck too!" he added innocently. "I'll put on a clean shirt and we'll go!"
He raced excitedly to his bedroom, leaving his father smirking with his smoldering, liquored emotions. In the momentary silence? Roger was beginning to feel a doubt, wondering if he could really do such a terrible thing to Miriam. But then he thought of what she had done to Mark already, and he knew that he had hit upon the perfect answer. A bitch she was, all right… he would follow through and exact his revenge, debasing her in front of Mark's eyes forever. A harsh lesson, he mused as he scratched the large Buck's furry ears. But a proper one befitting the crime…
Miriam Dodge's Saturday had been one of the most miserable she could ever remember. Now, alone in her house, she had spent the time since she'd awakened at noon by weeping silently. The painful and disgusting recollections of her depraved ravishment by those three sadistic boys last night kept sweeping over her tormented mind, their vivid images flashing over and over in torturing repetition.