This is a sample story from Obfuscations. Click here to go to the main sight: www.geocities.com/fhunn88

How We Met

by Sean Lewis

One spring semester, June took Humanities 339, called "-Isms," which met Tuesday and Thursday. On the Thursday of the first week of class, June noticed a guy gazing at her. She thought he was probably a nerd. The nerd hunched over his desk while squeezing his pencil near the tip. He looked at June again and smiled. She turned back to the teacher and frowned.
Next Tuesday, after class, the nerd rushed over to June as she began to walk away from the classroom. His back was hunched over as it suffered under the weight of his blue backpack. He was short and skinny, with all his bones poking out. June figured that the backpack probably weighed more than the nerd. His face needed a shave and was highlighted by pimples. To top him off, his hair was messy and greasy.
The nerd said, "Hello," with his squeaky little voice.
"Hi," June responded. Several students walked among the halls. The flow of the crowd pressed the nerd and June uncomfortably close together.
"My name's Fred."
"It figures."
"What's your name?"
"June."
"Pleased to meet you." Fred laughed nervously. "So, do you like our class?"
"It's okay."
As they walked along, June noticed Fred's broad smile, which displayed his yellowed and crooked teeth that emerged from red gums. Fred ogled June with his big brown eyes. She wondered why he was so excited to see her. She thought he probably wanted something.
She asked, "Where are you going?"
He replied, "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the Student Union, to get lunch."
"Okay, that sounds good."
"You don't have to walk with me."
"I don't mind. It's along the way."
June asked herself, The way to what?
Fred interrupted her thought. "Well, how's your life?"
"All right."
"Like the weather?"
"Yeah, great weather."
Fred looked at his feet as they walked silently. Eventually, they reached the steps which led into the Student Union. Fred bounced lightly at each step. When they entered the Union, they again found themselves in a dense crowd. Finally, they reached the Score Board--a fast food restaurant.
June said, "Bye."
"Good-bye," Fred said. "Maybe we can walk together on Thursday."
"Well, maybe."

After class on Thursday, June walked slowly, due to the several students that crowded the hall. Fred rushed up to June's left side and walked with her like a dog loyally walking by its master. June realized she would have to figure out some way to get rid of Fred, or else he would follow her forever.
Fred said, "Hello."
"Hi," June responded.
"How are you today?"
"Fine."
Fred waited a moment, as if expecting June to say more. Then he said, "That's good."
Silence.
Fred asked, "So, you sure everything's okay?"
"I guess," June said. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. Just talking." Fred looked at his feet. He seemed uncomfortable. June hoped Fred was finally figuring out how cold her shoulder was.
Fred asked, "What classes do you have this semester?"
"Just four English classes and that Humanities class, of course."
"Looks like you'll get a lot of reading and writing done this semester."
"Yeah." June laughed.
"Did you have this kind of load last semester?"
"Yeah. I got behind in a lot of my classes, but I have to get out of college. I can't afford to stay another semester, especially with the fee increase." Suddenly, June just poured out all her problems on Fred. Fred listened sympathetically, while June complained about L. A. life, her sore back, boring teachers and assignments, overrated writers, et cetera. She even complained about things that she hadn't even really admitted to herself were problems.
Fred offered ineffectual advice like, "It'll pass," "Maybe you should move," and "All is for the best in the best of all possible worlds."
June soon reached the Score Board. She couldn't believe that she had told Fred all those things, but she felt very natural when telling her problems to Fred, as if she had had the habit for years. Yet the turn of events seriously set back her hope of getting rid of Fred. Next time she would have to simply avoid him.

When class ended on the following Tuesday, June had all her stuff packed and left at the instant they were dismissed. She rushed away, leaving Fred struggling with his backpack. As June turned a corner, she saw Fred in the distance, hobbling desperately after her. With a quick turn, she ducked into the bathroom to give Fred time to get thoroughly lost--and far from her. She needed to relieve herself anyway.
After waiting a little while in the crowded, stinking bathroom, June came out. Fred wasn't visible, so June sighed and headed towards the Score Board.
"Hello!" a squeaky voice said. June hadn't escaped Fred after all. He again walked loyally by her left side. "Hey," he said, "It was lucky I found you." June knew it wasn't luck at all. He must have been waiting for her. She had to be very, very cold if she ever hoped to be rid of him.
"So," Fred continued, "how are you today?
"All right."
"What did you think of James Joyce's story, `Araby'?"
"I don't know."
"I love that story! It's the story of my life. But I'm not sure if it glorifies Marxism."
June wished Fred would learn something from that story.
Fred asked, "Did you have a nice week-end?"
"Yeah."
"Do anything of interest?"
"No."
"Do anything boring?"
June refused to answer that question.
"Oh well," Fred said.
They walked together silently. June tried to pass some people, but they moved sideways and blocked her escape. She stared at their backs. Fred asked, "What's your favorite color?"
"Green."
"What's your favorite number?"
"Seven."
"Have a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Want one?"
"No!"
"Good. Then you shouldn't misunderstand." Fred took a moment to reload and then continued, "What do you think of oranges?"
"What's it to you?"
"Everything. Do you ever wear flannel?"
June sulked.
"Ah well, I'm just too nosey I guess." Fred looked around. When he noticed some pigeons, he pointed them out to June and gently asked, "What do you think of pigeons?"
"I don't know."
"I admire them. Here they are, in the middle of a harsh environment, yet they manage to thrive and grow fat. They know how to survive."
"Hm."
"Of course, these days, people are more willing to help a pigeon than a human being. Maybe that has something to do with it." He smiled weakly.
They soon reached the Score Board.
Fred said, "Have a nice lunch. Good-bye."
June walked inside.

That evening, June thought about the day. Her attempt to be cold just made Fred more annoying. She would have to tell him flat out to leave her alone.
June looked in the mirror. She yelled at it, "Leave me alone!" Her eyebrows arched inward, pointing down to her nose--she looked very vicious. That method wouldn't work, she thought. Fred would probably burst into tears, and that would mean June would feel bad unless she cheered Fred up.
June contemplated her face. She wondered what Fred saw in her. She had brown eyes and hair, and . . .
Well, June knew what she looked like.
June contemplated a gentle approach. "I want to be gentle," June told her mirror self, Enuj.
"Control your face," Enuj responded. "Look and sound calm, yet firm."
June bent her right eyebrow down a bit--far enough to appear angry without being unnecessarily evil-looking.
"Fred," June said, "there comes a time in a person's life when he needs to realize he has to be mature and independent--"
Enuj said, "By the time you finish your speech, you'll have had lunch with him."
"Fred," June continued, very calm and gentle, "I hate you. I loathe you. I can't stand being near you. Please don't ever walk near me or talk to me again."
"Try something more firm," Enuj said. "Clear and to the point."
June responded, "Freddy, No! Bad dog! Bad dog!"
June realized she still had a lot of thinking to do.

On Thursday, Fred walked again at June's left side.
"Hi," Fred said.
"Hi," June replied. Fred was silent as he stared at June curiously, as if he expected her to say something important. Finally, she said, "Uh, Fred, I think I'd rather walk alone."
"Is something wrong? It might help to talk about it."
"I mean, well, I just like to walk alone. I need time to be by myself--to think."
"Well, all right. I guess I'll see you Tuesday."
"No, Fred, wait. I don't want to talk to you anymore. I always want to walk alone."
"That could get pretty lonely." Fred smiled weakly.
"No, I mean . . ."
"I know. I understand. I wish I could help."
"I don't want your help. I just want to walk alone."
"If you ever want to talk, I'm willing to listen."
"I want to be left alone." June felt her throat tightening and heard her voice growing harsher.
"All right." Fred's squeak was worsening. "I'm sorry if I brought you any trouble." He looked to his feet as if they could tell him what he wanted to say. June wondered if Fred would ever actually leave.
June encouraged Fred, saying, "Good-bye."
"Bye." Fred suddenly turned to his left, cut through several people, and then walked over the grass.

The next Tuesday, Fred ogled June less than he had before. June noticed that his eyes were red. When class ended, Fred looked at June sadly. She noticed him, and he smiled and looked down. Yet, his smile showed sadness.

That evening, June lay uncomfortably in bed. She slowly managed to make her journey to the land of nod.
June found herself in a sparkling white bathroom. She was completely naked and kneeling on the floor. Her hands were chained to the towel rack behind her, so that the chains kept her arms raised over her head. Fred knelt in front of June. He wore a red plaid flannel shirt, unbuttoned, and blue boxers. Fred's bony frame displayed all its appalling glory. He showed June his big, broad, evil smile. She looked away, and noticed Fred's blue backpack, which was lying next to the toilet. June noticed a few items that poked out of the backpack--an egg beater, a spatula, and a turkey baster.
Fred moved in close to June. She could smell desert cherries on his breath. He said, "At last, I have you." He looked over June's body. He rubbed his hands on June's breasts as spittle fell out of his mouth and onto her chest. Fred spread his legs and, placing his mouth on her chest, blowed.
June understood that Fred really was just another jerk.
He looked up into her eyes and laughed, very strangely, "Heee hee-hee haw."
He moved to his backpack and pulled out a pot holder. June looked up at the chains that held her. She noticed that they were made of rubber--just toys. She could slip out at any moment. She decided to make a run for it and slid her hands free. Yet Fred returned and grabbed June's left hand.
"What's wrong?" he asked with a sudden burst of sympathy. June looked at Fred's hand and noticed a ring on her own finger. It was a gold ring, with a very small diamond in it. Fred also wore a gold ring on his left hand. He stood up and helped June stand. He led her into the hallway and knelt down again. "Here, lie down." He rubbed his hand over the carpet, which was thick, white, and very soft. As she lay down on her back, Fred let go of her hand. He hovered over her. June closed her eyes tightly. She knew that Fred was ready to consummate their marriage. After grabbing her tightly, he flipped her onto her stomach. He sat on June's rear, placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, and gave her a back rub.
"My goodness," Fred said. "You certainly are feeling a lot of tension right now. Just relax. It's okay." His massage was wimpy, his hands lightly brushing over June's back. Nonetheless, it was comforting.
June said, "Press harder."
"You need more thumbs," Fred said. June suddenly felt a jolt of pure ecstasy rush from her neck. She felt herself relax as waves of ecstasy filled her body completely. She stretched her arms out in front of her and sighed. Fred kissed June gently on the neck. She melted under Fred's touch. She drifted into a peaceful darkness.

On Wednesday, June passed by Fred while walking on the sidewalk. He was staring at the ground intensely. She doubted that he saw her.

That night, June returned to nod-land . . .
June was walking from class. Fred rushed up behind her. As he came to her side, he cried "I'm sorry! Please forgive me."
June said, "No!"
"I'm sorry," he whined. He fell at June's feet, like a dying bug, where he rolled up in a little ball and cried.
With determination, June walked on towards a table which had subscriptions to the L. A. Times piled on it. She sat down and reached into Fred's backpack, which sat on the table. Out of the backpack, June pulled a spoon and a bowl of Corn Flakes, complete with milk. She noticed Fred crawling towards her, mumbling, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," over and over. He seemed to be in great pain, as if he was crawling on broken glass. In fact, the sidewalk was full of white, sharp gravel. Fred left a thin trail of red blood behind himself.
June slapped her spoon down in her cereal violently and made some milk splash out of the bowl and onto the table. "Look," June yelled at Fred, "It's not my fault that you like me! It's not my fault that I don't like you! Why should it be my responsibility?"
Fred collapsed. "I don't know," he whined. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could help you."
June knelt down, picked up Fred, and sat him down next to herself while still holding an arm around him. In return, Fred put both his arms around her. Little spots of tears dampened June's shoulder. She said, "Well, anyway, it's pretty stupid to crawl like that. Why don't you walk? Better yet, why not walk somewhere else?"
Fred whined, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I care about you. I'm so stupid."
June grabbed a glass of milk and handed it to Fred while saying, "Here, this will make you feel better." Fred took the milk and drank it. (Wait a minute, June thought, where did the milk come from? Oh that's right. It had been sitting next to the orange juice.)
"Thanks," Fred said.
June continued, "It'll be okay. You just have to be patient. I'm sure you'll find some one for you."
"I'm sorry I can't let you go. I wish I was stronger."
"Shh." She felt comfortable in Fred's arms. She put her other arm around him and rested her head on his.
June woke up and felt confused yet relaxed.

On Thursday, Fred's eyes still looked red. June noticed him looking at her, and he briefly gave her a sad smile. By the end of class, June knew she had to do something, in the waking world. So, she waited for Fred. As he left, she walked to his right side and said, "Hi."
"Hello," he said. "I'm sorry I'm being such a pain."
"Would you like to walk with me?"
"May I?"
"Sure," June said. "Maybe we can walk together after class every time."
"I admire you for trying, but I'm sure you'll get tired of me again." Fred smiled.
"Well, we'll see."
"So . . . how are you today?"

This was a sample story from Obfuscations. Click here to go to the main sight: www.geocities.com/fhunn88