Friday, February 28, 1975, the lost years, Age 25

RICE UNIVERSITY

It was Friday, February 28, one day after Mark's breakdown in my office.  A major part of my job required making spot inspections at homes which had been reported for child neglect.  Considering some of these visits required long drives, it was easier just to spend the entire day out in the field, make as many visits as time permitted, then write up my case reports the following day.  I did not speak with Mark on Friday because I was out in the field.  When I was finished, I headed straight to Rice University. 

How does someone break in with a new crowd?  I needed to find a place where people had interests in common with myself.  Education had once been my strength.  Since I was still a bookworm at heart, why not visit Rice University and look for a lady bookworm?

I had developed a deep fondness for Rice during my childhood.  Located close to the Montrose area where I grew up, Rice was like a second home to me.  When I was a boy, I used to ride my bike over there with my dog Terry running along beside me.  Rice had a beautiful campus.  While my beloved border collie chased squirrels and the countless black birds who lived in the oak trees, I would dream about attending a wonderful school like Rice and escape my troubled home. 

Unfortunately, when it came time to chose a college, I was determined to go somewhere as far away from my mother as possible.  In retrospect, I should have gone to Rice.  Considering how miserable I had been at Johns Hopkins, my life would have undoubtedly turned out a lot happier than it had so far. 

Oh well, better late than never.  Based on my knowledge of Rice, I doubted I would have any trouble mingling with the students.  I definitely knew my way around the place.  Only one problem.  Wasn't I a bit old to be chasing coeds?  Yes, that was true.  But what about graduate students?  I imagined the female graduate students would be close to my age. 

After parking, I began to walk around.  I felt right at home.  In fact, if I hadn't been tossed from Colorado State, I would probably be hanging out with fellow graduate students on a late Friday afternoon.  That gave me an idea.  Based on past experience at Colorado State, Friday was the big night for the Psychology grad students to celebrate the start of the weekend.  No doubt Rice graduate students would do the same.  Maybe there was a place over at Rice University where graduate students liked to meet.  Well, let's go look.

Since I was not a Rice student, my main concern was how to penetrate a group I did not belong to.  To begin with, I had no idea where the graduate students might congregate.  Nor did I have any idea how to approach strangers, always my weak spot.  Constantly fearful of rejection, I wondered if my crippling phobia would sabotage me at a key moment.  Someone was bound to ask me who I was and what was I doing here.  To be honest, I drew a blank.  Oh well, so what?  If I choked, what did I have to lose?  Since no one knew me, all I had to do was disappear.  So I decided to wing it.

This was a very uncharacteristic decision considering my Phobia.  I was quietly aware my bold decision was a departure from the avoidance behavior that had plagued me ever since Vanessa and Fujimoto cut me off at the knees.  I was surprised at myself.  Where did this newfound courage come from?  The answer popped up swiftly.  Thanks to the overwhelming success of my Dance Project, I felt strong again for the first time since my downfall at CSU.  I took a deep breath.  December 1973 was when Vanessa left for Portland and Fujimoto handed me the failing grade in his class that spelled my doom.  It was now February 1975.  It had taken over a year to climb back to this point.  I thought of Nietszche.  "That which doesn't kill you..."  Was I stronger for the experience?  Not really.  I had no girlfriend, I had no career.  I didn't even know what career I would choose if I ever found the courage to start looking again.  But let's think about that another day.  In the meantime, at least I was cheerful. 

Being here at Rice had a lot to do with that.  Visiting Rice was such a good idea, why hadn't I thought of this before?  Thanks to fond childhood memories, I knew Rice like the back of my hand.  If ever there was a place to fake being part of, this was it.  You want to know something interesting?  I was feeling kind of lucky.

So where do I start looking for graduate students?  Maybe I should try the Student Union and see what was in there.  As I made my way to the Student Union, I walked past a group of 10 people playing volleyball in a grassy area next to the Chemistry Department.  Noting their advanced age, I wondered if they were graduate students.

Due to my love of volleyball, I stopped to watch.  Thanks to an early spring, this was probably the first time they had played this year.  Fortunately Houston has mild winters.  The air was a little brisk, but no one seemed to mind.  By the sounds of laughter, the students were enjoying themselves.  A sad, very wistful feeling came over me.  In a manner similar to all those dance parties I missed back in high school, this volleyball game reminded me of the good times I had missed at Colorado State.  I remembered the fun I had going drinking with my fellow grad students.  Recalling my days at Colorado State, this idyllic scene should have been my life.  With a flash of anger, I sure screwed that up.  Wouldn't it be nice to get a second chance?

I wondered if they would let me play.    

Poof, just like that I got my wish.  Some girl had noticed me watching.  She must have read my mind because she called out and asked if I wanted to join them.  I didn't let it show, but I was thrilled to be invited.  Actually I was beyond thrilled.  The laughter and camaraderie attracted me.  Even better, I noticed several girls my age!!  Glory hallelujah.  Faster than you can say "Gay Siberia", I walked over. 

I asked a couple of quick questions and discovered to my profound joy that these people were indeed graduate students.  Surrounded by a group of academics, I was right at home.  Imagine that.  Hmm.  I felt that rare sense of wonder come over me.  It was quite a coincidence to stumble across a volleyball game and get invited to play.  "When I get that crazy feeling, I know I'm in trouble again..."  Was this just dumb luck or was it a Supernatural event?  Well, there's only one way to find out. 

This lucky break convinced me my decision to head over to Rice had been an inspired choice.  My instincts were right on the money.  Not only had I found a place where I felt completely at ease, I had much in common with this group... same age, same vocabulary, same rumpled grad student look, same smart-ass comments.  I fit right in.  This is where I belonged.  However, we did differ in one way.  Without a doubt these were the worst volleyball players I had ever seen.  What a bunch of geeks and nerds!  I wisely kept that unkind thought to myself.  Not only did I keep my big mouth shut, I also had the sense to curb my competitive streak.  Ordinarily I only knew one style... dominate.  Volleyball was my game.  At the time, I was the reigning MVP of the volleyball league at the Jewish Community Center.  Just then a ball came over the net that was perfect to slam back.  This was my big chance to show off.  I was just about to slam the ball down their throats when some instinct stopped me.  Gently nudging the ball back to the other side, my inner voice complimented me... "Calm down, Rick, be cool, play nice, don't scare anyone."  I took a deep breath and put my pit bull side under wraps.  After all, it was my aggressive side that had gotten me thrown out of graduate school.  Try being a puppy dog today.

Maybe I had learned something at Colorado State after all.  I had learned how to fit in.  I reminded myself that these people were playing for fun, exercise and friendship.  Putting my new-found maturity to good use, I carefully kept my volleyball skills under wraps.  However, there was one small problem.  I was psychologically incapable of deliberately making a mistake.  Thinking fast, I made a compromise and settled for merely keeping any ball hit to me in play rather than smash it back over the net.  That was a smart move. 

To my surprise, even playing at half-speed was more than enough to get noticed.  A girl called out, "Hey, good play, Rick!" 

Good play?  They had no idea.  Hidden within was a Beast who played for keeps when the score counted.  However, today I kept the Beast contained.  Nevertheless, it did not take long for the players to notice how easily I handled anything hit near me.  It was obvious to everyone I was the best player by a wide margin.  At the end of the game, Celeste, the girl who had invited me to join, explained why they were out here.  Today's game was a try-out to see who belonged on their volleyball team. 

What did she say?  A try-out?  I was incredulous.  Noting the beer, snacks and soft drinks over on a nearby blanket, until now I had no idea this picnic-style get-together had a purpose to it.  They were trying to see who in the Chemistry Department had talent and who didn't.  I was amused.  There was no talent.  I knew it and they knew it too.  That explained why the grad students had been watching me play with hawk-like intensity.  Seeing the look in Celeste's eye, I had a hunch I was being recruited to play in their upcoming intramural graduate student volleyball league.  Sure enough, that was the moment Celeste made her pitch.

"Oh, Rick, you should join our team!  Please!  All we need is one more good player!"

One more good player?  Good grief, how about five more good players?  Or one Rachel.  Instantly a pang of sorrow shot through me.  I still wasn't over Rachel.  But I kept that thought to myself.  I didn't want to seem too anxious, so I hesitated accepting Celeste's offer at first.  That worked like a charm.  Sensing my caution, several others closed to in to support Celeste.  Amazing!  It helps to play hard to get.  I actually laughed at myself... I had never tried this ploy before.  What was coming over me?  If I didn't know better, I was learning how to play the game!!  Noting how they became more insistent, I was shocked how well my sneaky trick had paid off.  I let them beg a while longer, but of course I eventually relented.  However I did not want to lie to them.  I wanted these people to become my friends, so I decided deception would be a bad place to start.  Reluctantly I confessed I wasn't a student at Rice, adding that is why it had taken me so long to accept their offer.  I expected that would be the end of that.  In fact, I was frantically trying to think of some dumb reason to justify being here in the first place. 

Now I was in for another surprise.  "No problem", Celeste exclaimed.  "We would love to have you on the team!"

I was flabbergasted.  Rather than challenge me and ask what I was doing here, the subject never came up.  Instead they began to scheme a way to smuggle me onto their team.  I was taken aback by their willingness to cheat, but then again they were so bad I could understand their desperation.  With a grin, I realized how thrilled they were to find at least one person who knew how to play.  On the spot, they said they would list me on the roster as "Fred" somebody.  It turned out that Fred was an actual graduate student in their department.  Celeste reassured me.  "Don't worry, Rick.  There is no way you will ever be caught."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Fred is a mad scientist who lives underground.  We call him 'Morlock' because he never leaves the basement laboratory over in the Chemistry building.  Based on how he smells, we think he sleeps there sometimes.  No one but us has any idea what Fred looks like, so there is nothing to worry about." 

Celeste paused for a moment.  Noting the odd look on her face, I caught on that I had been issued a challenge of sorts.  Celeste was not the only one who wanted to see my reaction.  The others picked up on Celeste's ploy and held their breath. 

"Morlock?" I exclaimed, "that is a great nickname!  You are referring to the sub-humanoid species who lived underground in HG Wells' Time Machine.  Does this Morlock guy eat lab rats for snacks?"  

The entire group let out a collective sigh as I solved Celeste's riddle.  Celeste smiled with delight and so did the others.  Hey, all right!  This new guy is a Nerd just like us!  Pleased that I had passed her test, Celeste grinned and said, "Welcome to the team, Morlock!"

Like I said, I belonged here.  It was such a relief to find a place where I fit in.  I had read The Time Machine as a kid.  Loved the book, loved the movie.  Pretty Yvette Mimieux played Weena.  Her race was 'Eloi', a term that appeared frequently as a crossword puzzle clue.  However, I kept that to myself.  For the second time today I decided it was better not to show off.  I passed the test; no need to overdo it.  Meanwhile I could not help but acknowledge the irony.  They thought I was a nice guy.  Guess again.  Celeste had no idea how close the Morlock nickname was to the truth.  Wait till they see me become a monster when we play volleyball for keeps.  I was incredulous at their enthusiasm to recruit me.  These guys had to be the least suspicious people on earth.  They still had not bothered to ask what I was doing here.  They simply assumed the Gods of Volleyball had sent me to earth as the answer to their prayers.  Little did they know their group was actually the answer to my prayers. 

I was about to leave when Celeste called out to me.  "Rick, where are you going?"

"I thought the game was over."

"We are all headed over to Valhalla for a beer.  Why don't you come with us?"

"What is Valhalla?  Isn't that where the Vikings go to celebrate their after-life?"

"Yeah, and that's where Rice Grad Students go because we don't have a life.  It's a bar here on campus reserved exclusively for graduate students.  Come along and meet your new teammates!"

I smiled broadly.  This was more than I had any right to expect.  What a blessing.  Out of nowhere, I had been handed a ticket to a new world.  Clearly the wheel of fortune was spinning my way today.  This was exactly the breakthrough I had been waiting for.  Celeste had smiled at me several times while we played.  Who needs a piano when a volleyball can work just as well?  I was excited to have this pretty girl invite me to join my new teammates for a beer.  Just like that, I was hanging out with graduate students again.  Wonders never cease.  I cannot begin to describe how happy I was to be back in a college environment.  Sitting with my new friends at Valhalla, Celeste made sure I sat next to her.  Over several glasses of beer, Celeste and I became instant pals.  Still amazed that Celeste took my presence at Rice for granted, I made a snap decision to avoid any mention of Colorado State.  Instead I said I was a recent graduate of Johns Hopkins and noted how impressed she was. 

"So what was your major, Rick?"

"Biology," I lied.  "I studied pheromones, the science behind lust as a way to attract a girl like you."

Celeste laughed with gusto.  "Oh my, you're dangerous.  I better keep my eye on you!"

I was incredulous.  Did those words really come out of my mouth?  Trust me, that line was not rehearsed.  It just popped into my head.  As Celeste and I chatted up a storm, I noted with pride that I could talk to girls my own age again.  I beamed with joy.  The combination of talk-dirty lessons at Gay Siberia, my Talk Project with Elena, and of course hours upon hours of sex talk with Lucy and Juicy had magically restored my voice.  With my confidence restored, I felt like the Curse had been lifted.  What an amazing day this had been. 

Around 9 pm, people began to leave.  Celeste made a point to get my phone number so she could contact me when the Rice volleyball league started in a few weeks.  Then with a straight face she handed me her number in case I had any questions.  I had a strong feeling Celeste had given me her number for other reasons as well.  Shades of Rachel, this was déjà vu.  The similarity exchanging phone numbers with Cle after a volleyball game was instant replay of Rachel four months ago.  Very interesting.  Who knows, given Celeste's obvious interest, maybe my Epic Losing Streak was drawing to a close.  I was certain Fate was knocking on my door again. 

Suspicious

Saturday, march 1, 1975, Age 25, the lost years WHERE IS EVERYBODY?

For whatever reason, my life had moved into the Fast Lane.  Things were happening rapidly.

•   Wednesday, February 26. 
  Mark's Love Triangle entered the crisis phase when he discovered Mariah and Sean making love on the sly at their house.
   
•   Thursday, February 27. 
  I witnessed Mark's emotional breakdown at the office.  That night at the Prufrock's piano bar I had the idea to visit Rice on Friday.
   
•   Friday, February 28.
  I was out in the field doing home visits.  Afterwards I drove directly over to Rice where I ran into a group of graduate students playing volleyball.  Due to my Friday activities, I had no idea what was going on with Mark.

•   Saturday, March 1.
  I had not heard from Mark regarding his crisis in two days.  However, since I had been dancing at the Farmhouse every Saturday night for the past two months, I headed over there without hesitation.

When I showed up at the Farmhouse on Saturday night, March 1, no one from the group was there to meet me.  That was weird.  Something must be wrong.  Where's Mark?  Where's Sean and Mariah?  Where are Lucy and Jill?  There was no one in sight, not even the other members of Mark's Circle of Friends.  This had never happened before.  How was it possible in a group of 30 regulars that no one but me had shown up?  I reassured myself that someone has to get here first.  Maybe tonight was my turn.  However, that explanation did not feel right.  There were always people here by now.  I decided this situation must have something to do with the problems in Mark's Love Triangle.  Should I stay or go?  Sticking around just to be sure, I participated in the line dances by myself.   

Half an hour after I arrived, Mark and Sean showed up.  It was a bad sign when I did not see Mariah.  She never missed a Saturday night at the Farmhouse.  As Mark came over to greet me, I noticed he and Sean both looked like death warmed over.  When I asked him where everyone was, Mark quickly apologized. 

"I'm sorry, Rick, the Casa Mark group is over at someone's special house party tonight.  I forgot to tell you about the other party, but I have been preoccupied."

I had no idea about the 'Other Party' Mark was referring to and I was mad at him for the miscommunication.  However, given his sad state I said nothing.   I could not believe Jill and Lucy were not here.  I guess they assumed they would see me at the private party Mark referred to.  Right now they were probably wondering where I was just like I was wondering where they were.  Who was I going to dance with?  Maybe Mark would tell me the location in a moment.  Otherwise I was out of luck.  I decided to set my misgivings aside because something was clearly amiss with Mark.  Sean was frowning and Mark looked like he had been crying hard.  Since Mariah was missing, I had to assume there had been a fight.  I was correct.  The threesome had spent the entire day hashing this out.

Mark was exhausted.  Seeing how shaken he was, I spoke softly.  "I see Mariah isn't here.  Are you in any mood to tell me what has happened so far?"

As Mark spoke up, Sean was very upset.  He looked away as Mark replied, "Mariah is at home.  Yes, maybe we should talk."

Taking the cue, Sean went over to the bar.  He brought over two beers for Mark and me, then disappeared into the crowd.  Now that we were alone, Mark confided that the three of them had been discussing their fractured relationship all day long. 

"Things aren't looking very good.  I asked them to consider inviting me back into their bed.  Sean was willing, but Mariah was opposed to the idea.  If Mariah was against it, then so was Sean.  I cannot believe Mariah would turn on me like that."

I nodded.  Mystery Mariah seemed to be calling the shots. 

"I asked Mariah why she was so opposed to the idea.  Mariah told me she expected I would do nothing but cry my head off.  She said, "Jesus, Mark, you used to be able to smile and laugh.  If we let you back in bed with us, how can Sean and I have sex with you imitating a human waterfall?'"

"That sounds pretty harsh.  Did you agree with her?"

Mark didn't say a word.  He began to cry instead.  I guess I had my answer.  Between tears and sobs, Mark poured out his heart.

"When Mariah realized how badly her decision to exclude me had hurt my feelings, she realized she had said a terrible thing.  Seeing my pain, she fell to pieces.  Now she was crying just as hard as me.  I don't know what her problem is.  Hells bells, I'm not the only one who is crying.  Mariah is crying, Sean is crying, I'm crying.  Get out the mop.  Seriously, Rick, being pushed away by Mariah hurts worse than anything I have ever felt.  Why would she do this to me?  Mariah is my best friend in the world.  Or at least that's what I thought."

I wondered the same thing about Mariah.  Why was she being so hard on Mark?  Although I could see why Mariah didn't want Mark to intrude on her love-making with Sean, Mark was still dear to her.  She knew how much this turn of events was hurting him and no doubt the guilt was ripping her up.  Sean did not want to hurt Mark either.  This situation was hard for all of them.  Sean must be very important to Mariah for her to treat Mark with so little sensitivity.  This was about more than sex.  As impossible as it seemed, now that Mariah had flipped Sean from gay to straight, she wasn't willing to share.  Mariah must think she and Sean had a future together to discard Mark like this.  In the process, Mariah was consumed with guilt.  Breaking up is so very hard to do...

"So what is Mariah doing right now?"

Forcing back tears, Mark managed to blurt out that Mariah had asked to be alone.

"Mariah is bawling her head off.  Sean and I couldn't take listening to her tears anymore, so we decided to come to the Farmhouse and leave her in peace."

I was depressed by Mark's no-win situation.  And disillusioned too.  Up till now I thought Mark was the man with the plan, the guy who had surely written the Book of Love.  I was very unhappy to discover my love guru wasn't perfect after all.  I wished I could say something to cheer him up, but I had no idea where to start.

"So what are you going to do, Mark?"

"Now that I have Sean alone here at the Farmhouse apart from Mariah, maybe he will listen to me.  I am going to find some way to change his mind and try to put the Three-Way back together.  In fact, I probably should go find Sean and start twisting his arm."

Sean had wandered off somewhere, so I gave Mark a hug and wished him luck.  Mark gave me a rueful smile and left.  Tears were running down his face.  Good grief.  The poor man.  So unhappy.  As I watched him go, I didn't see any way out of this mess.  Mark wanted to restore the Triangle, but I doubted there was any chance.  Those painful words... 'Desperation isn't sexy'... crossed my mind.  At the moment, Mark reeked of desperation.  He was doomed, I was sure of it.  Very depressing.  I sat there for while thinking it over.  Do I need to stick around?  I wondered if Mark needed my companionship any further.  Probably not.  Sean and Mark needed to be alone so they could work it out.  I did not envy Mark's situation one bit.  I doubted that Sean would go for reconstructing the Love Triangle.  Things had spiraled so far out of control, there was no patching this up.  Someone had to go and Mark would certainly be the one.  Most likely Mark and Sean were about to break up.  I shook my head in wonderment.  Most people had a hard enough time losing a lover, but two lovers at once?

I was alone.  Should I stay or go?  Concerned that Mark might need me, I did another line dance in the midst of 20 or so people, but it was Freestyle I longed for.  However I wasn't going to dance alone by myself.  So I sat.  And then I sat some more.  This is getting old, but stuck around a little longer just in case.  After Mark and Sean had been gone for 20 minutes, I decided I had waited long enough.  It was time to leave.  Just as I stood up, a man in the shadows seemed to sense I was taking off.  He quickly stepped forward and asked me to dance.  I looked around.  Mark and Sean were nowhere to be seen.  Oh, hell, why not?  I told myself this was Freestyle dancing, not touch dancing, so what difference did it make?  I wanted to dance, so I said okay.  One dance for the road and then I would leave.

This was the first time I had ever broken my 'Stick to Mark's Circle of Friends' rule.  The moment I saw the man's excited reaction, I immediately regretted saying yes.  My instincts warned me something was wrong.  Too late now; I had accepted his offer.  Easier just dance to this song and get it over with.   So we went out on the floor.  I noticed my companion was a pretty big guy.  He was taller than me which was unusual since I was over six feet.  I glanced up and noticed he was smiling at me.  Or should I say 'leering'?  I shuddered.  There was some serious lust in his eyes.  That is when I began to worry.  He looked like he wanted to grab me, so I avoided eye contact and toned down my dancing.  It didn't work.  The guy was practically drooling.  And dancing way too close!  Mere inches separated us. 

I was scared, so halfway through the song I said, "Hey, mister, thanks for the dance, but I gotta go."

As I started to leave, the man grabbed my right arm to stop me.  He pulled my arm and spun me around like a top.  Off balance, I fell right into his waiting arms.  Before I knew what was happening, one hand was on my butt, his other arm was around my back and our faces were touching.  Holy shit!!  What the hell is going on here?  I could feel his foul breath and wanted to vomit.  Now that I was trapped, the man began to thrust his pelvis into mine.  Frightened, I instinctively pulled away to free myself.  It didn't work; he was too quick.  The man caught me and pulled me back in.  I was starting to panic.  This man had the power of a brute.  Of course I struggled, but it did no good.  He dominated me so easily, I decided my tormentor must be some sort of body builder.  Crushed against his chest, I pushed against him with my hands, but it was useless.  I had never experienced this kind of overwhelming power.  I was stunned by my futility.  I had been lifting weights since I was a teenager, but it didn't do me a bit of good.  Despite my 200 pounds and considerable strength, I was no match for this monster.

His power kept me glued to his body.  Unable to resist, I had no choice but match his grinding pelvis movements.  Despite my fear, I noticed his thrusts at least kept rhythm to the music.  What a strange thing to think about at a time like this.  Seconds later he moved his right hand to the back of my head and shoved my face into his bare chest. With his shirt open, I found my face buried against his sweaty, hairy chest.  Disgusting.  The odor made me nauseous. 

It was time to switch tactics.  I told him I had a boyfriend who would be back any minute.  That didn't work; he did not reply.  The man's strength continued to shock me.  I was positive this man could pulverize me, squash me like a bug.  This guy was probably the strongest man in the building.  In that case, he would not be bothered by any man who tried to interfere.  Feeling helpless, my fear turned to desperation.  What did he intend to do next? 

My attacker was Manimal, half-man, half-monster.  I was being overpowered against my will and there was not a damn thing I could do about it.  Just my luck to meet a gay Minotaur.  At first I was outraged, but my anger had turned to real panic.  The more I resisted, the stronger he got.  There was no way on earth I could escape this man's grip; I was totally helpless.  A fear of rape crossed my mind.  Would could I do?  So far resistance had not worked.  Nor had my protests.  Trying a different tactic, I went limp in his arms and acted like a ragdoll.  I just stood there and didn't fight back.  That didn't work either.  Manimal just kept grinding his hips against mine and squeezing my butt.  What was that supposed to do, turn me on?  Or turn him on?  Too tired to resist, I let him grope away while I figured out some way to escape.

Now I tried talking to the man again.  Trying hard not to let my panic show, I said, "Look, mister, I am not interested.  Please let me go."

Being polite didn't work either.  Manimal ignored me and kept thrusting his pelvis.  At this point I did not know what else to do, so I started to mimic his motions.  Since everything else had failed, I continued to cooperate.  As I hoped, giving in did not hurt as much.  With his arms wrapped around me like vise grips, I followed his movements.  The brute liked what I was doing.  He moaned as we swayed to the music. 

Now that I no longer resisted, Manimal's grip eased up a bit.  Grateful he wasn't hurting me anymore, I continued to play along.  Since escape was impossible, I began to wonder how this was going to end.  Horrifying images raced through my head.  Was Manimal going to drag me to a private room and rape me?  I was certain there were rooms in this place where men had sex, but had never chosen to verify my suspicion.  I was terrified of being dragged into one of those rooms.  

If it came to that, I was ready to scream bloody murder and cause the biggest scene I was capable of.  However, I had decided to save screaming for my last resort.  I did not wish to enrage this man.  At the moment, he was in a very good mood.  He slid his hand inside my pants and caressed my butt.  Again I chose not to resist.  What good would it do?  Help yourself to happiness, you son of a bitch. 

When the song ended, to my surprise, Manimal abruptly let me go.  Just like that I was free.  I wondered if my last-ditch cooperation had won my release.  Maybe so because Manimal grinned and asked if he could buy me a drink.  This guy wants to buy me a drink?  I stared at him incredulously.  Are you out of your mind?  Manimal had just assaulted me against my will and now he wants to be friends?  Unwilling to stick around, I turned my back and walked swiftly off the floor, out the room, down the hall, out the front door.  The moment I was outside, I broke into a desperate sprint to safety.  I was panic stricken as I ran down the street.  What if this monster was just as fast as he was strong?  Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see no sign of Manimal chasing me.  I hid behind a car for a moment.  When I was sure no one was coming, I raced to my car two blocks away.  After a quick look to make sure I was not being followed, I jumped in and locked the door. 

I died a million deaths as I fumbled to get the key into the ignition.  That is when I discovered my car was wedged solidly between two other vehicles.  Oh my god, of all the nights to be stuck!   Given the limited space, I estimated I would have to rock the car back and forth five times to get free, maybe more.  That would give Manimal plenty of time to catch up.  I had made a real mistake getting in the car.  I thought I would be safe, but I was wrong.  This car was a trap.  If the brute was following, then I was a sitting duck.  Sick with fear, I was positive any second some rock would smash through my window.  Manimal would reach in, open the door, jerk me out and drag me to his caveman lair.  Fortunately, that did not happen.  However my fear was so great that I vomited right there in the car. 

My frantic attempts to free my car finally succeeded and I was on the road.  However I was still badly rattled by what had happened.  I was convinced the man was waiting in his car somewhere to follow me home.  Therefore I took every precaution I could think of.  It was paramount to conceal where I lived from Manimal, so I took a circuitous route home.  I made a couple of surprise U-turns along the way to be sure I was not being followed.  I watched nervously in my rearview mirror the entire time.  I passed my apartment building twice and went around the block just to be sure no one was behind me.  With my paranoia over the top, I trembled the whole time.

Finally I couldn't take the smell of the vomit anymore, so I turned into Gay Siberia and parked the car.  Leaving nothing to chance, I surveyed the area for danger before getting out.  Certain the coast was clear, I sprinted across the open space, unlocked my apartment door and slammed it shut.  I locked the door and stuck a chair under the handle for good measure.  After I showered and changed clothes, I collapsed.  Unfortunately I still didn't feel safe.  Manimal's superhuman power was so great, I half-expected his fist would come through the door at any moment. 

I did not sleep well that night.   Women have described the terror they felt from being stalked.  However, I never realized how frightened they were until this happened.  With my senses on hyper-alert, every sound kept me awake.  Now that I knew what it feels like to be sexually overpowered, I was intensely afraid of Manimal's brute strength.  This had to be how a woman feels when a man becomes too aggressive.  It was a horrible feeling to be so helpless.  I never felt so out of control in my entire life.  I also felt intensely guilty as I recalled how I had considered using force on Yolanda 'for her own good' as Jim Deane put it.  I felt sick as I imagined Manimal stripping me naked while whispering he was doing me a favor because deep down he was certain this was what I wanted. 

Perhaps my fear had been irrational.  After all, there were other men at the Farmhouse, lots of them.  Surely if I screamed they would have come to my rescue.  Or would they?  Would they come to the aid of a stranger?  Would they have the guts to risk being maimed by the most powerful man in the building?  Or would they step aside and let Manimal have his way with me?  I was glad I didn't have to find out.  As I lay awake in the dark obsessing over every sound, I vowed to never return to the Farmhouse.  This chapter of my life was over.