On the other hand, Gary, when he learned Ann’s entire first name, simply decided to call her Pleasure. That worked for a time, especially in the beginning of their relationship. They would sneak around looking for places to kiss and grope. Occasionally, they’d find a closet or empty room and they would go at it, usually ending with her on her knees and him with his hands behind her head. At first, he would always wrap his arms around her and hold her for a moment afterwards, always kissing her on her cheek instead of on her lips afterwards; nothing like the deeper way he would kiss her before she had “Pleasured” him. She wondered if he had an aversion to his own….
She banished the thought from her mind when she saw the steps to the six-story tenement walk up on North 6th where she and Gary had shared an apartment since they were freshmen. Well, it was Gary’s place originally and she kind of moved in. As her feet scraped the gritty, steep steps, her thoughts returned to how, after a while, Gary didn’t even bother to hug her afterwards. He’d just neaten up and say something about being “late.” Then a quick peck on the cheek and he was gone.
As she turned the key in the front door of the vestibule, she made note to take her peace sign off the ring before she threw the keys back at him. Once inside, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs and took a deep breath.
The fact that Treasure Ann Hunnicut was a victim, was old news. Now she was one of the walking wounded as well. Shunning her Mormon roots at 17, and armed with a 1584 SAT score and a scholarship, she fled to New York City and NYU. Her open heart and naiveté became a beacon to the predators that inhabit this city of anonymity. Falling in with the young crowd around 8th street and the surrounding coffee shops, she learned of the social ills and political realities that she had been shielded from in her pristine Utah environment. She shortened her name to Ann to better fit in without having to be “the Mormon girl.” She soon started to become overwhelmed by the tremendous amount of information on the arrogances and prejudices the United States of America was inflicting on the rest of the world. It was then that she met Gary, an NYU student, who, even though his grades were nowhere near Ann’s, immediately set himself up as her mentor. Within a week, he had the 5’8 blonde with a healthy body and soft, endearing eyes, under his spell. She became his following of one. He mostly kept her in check by his never letting her feel as though she totally satisfied him. That kept her trying anything and everything to gain his approval.
Subservience was her pattern with men, whether they were in her family, her community, the men she met socially, or when she was working as a waitress one summer. She was emotionally damaged and her esteem was inexorably tied to the nearest male figure. Gary perfected his advantage by getting her to be his sexual convenience. Besides, blowjobs were what passed as “making out” these days. It was almost expected that the oral gratuity was part of the new courting ritual. On Astor Place, it was referred to as “pulling a Lewinsky” and eventually shortened to, “Getting a Lewy.” Of course, among the 20-somethings, only the Poly-Sci students had a clue what that ancient reference alluded to. The ultimate level of casual oral sex reached its pinnacle with the buy-in from young women, on something relegated as harmless, called “Rainbowing.” A young girl would “register” a unique shade of lipstick and transfer that shade indelibly onto a male’s member as a way to prove to his friends that he got a specific girl to do him, and also as a way a girl could mark her territory to warn off other “sluts.”
In all, it was the greatest scam ever perpetrated on young women. This new ethic was in many cases supported by their very mothers, who were operating under the same male oppression in their lives. This new rule about the oldest male urge benefitted from, and was taking cover under, the new cultural mores that if “there is no penetration then there is no sex.” What a great time to be a young horny man; what a terrible time to be a young “disposable” girl.
As she entered the apartment, the smell of pot hung heavy in the air; that substance having also played a huge role in her transition to becoming one of the “cool” people. Then she heard a moan — a female moan. Impulsively, she stormed into the bedroom, her bedroom. There was Gary getting a Lewy from the Tramp! He was so wasted, he didn’t even hear her gasp. But the Tramp did. She just turned and, without missing a stroke, looked right into Ann’s eyes as she was consuming Ann’s boyfriend.
Treasure Ann opened her mouth and was surprised that not a sound came out. Eventually, she just turned and left the apartment. On the Bedford subway platform, she stood stunned. There was the rumble of the approaching Manhattan-bound L train, the sound swallowed her up, and her head pounded. She took two steps closer to the yellow grip mat that edged the last two feet between the platform and tracks. Maybe it was the residual of the contact high, but her head spun as the lights of the approaching train splashed along the grimy tiled wall of the station. She felt her body go limp and herself falling; the little voice inside of her didn’t object; she was okay with the idea of ending it all. As her body was collapsing, a woman screamed.
Number 1 was taking a roundabout way back to the Store & Lock. He had just met with two members of the Brooklyn cell who had formulated and stood by to execute the plan, which would have been his way out of the country. But now that the bomb had disappeared from the American authorities’ watch lists, he would never have to use the carefully prepared escape route that these men created, as the Americans would say, “just in case.” He had thought of killing them, so that they would not become a possible hole or loose end threat to his perfect plan. Instead, he invited them into the main plot. They were devout and committed and at least they could be useful even as just added gun power more than as soldiers, in the second diversion. He instructed them to report to a safe house in Trenton. There they would be watched for three days. If they didn’t draw any attention or surveillance teams, then they would be brought to the Store & Lock of which they had no clue existed.
This being the third subway he randomly boarded, he looked around the station to make sure no face or clothing piece was familiar and to check if anyone was paying any attention to him at all. He was watching the train pulling in when a scream turned his head in time to see the young girl beside him falling in front of the braking train. He instinctively reached out and pulled her to safety just as the cab of the train swept by the exact place where her head had been a split second before. She collapsed in his arms. Not wanting to draw any attention to himself, he walked her up the stairs to the open air.