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A Farewell to Three Wives: The Marriages of Rick Stevens
A Farewell to Three Wives: The Marriages of Rick Stevens
A Farewell to Three Wives: The Marriages of Rick Stevens
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A Farewell to Three Wives: The Marriages of Rick Stevens

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Dear Book Browser:

Thanks for stopping to look at this book. With millions of books in the market place, what chance does mine have to survive? That is what I, the author, am concerned about. I have just given birth, so to speak, to a new baby, the novel that has absorbed my interest and been my work for several years.
I know that I have tremendous competition, not only with contemporary authors but also with authors of the classics, going back hundreds of years. Yet, I feel that I need to add my experiences to these mountains of fiction. I feel as though I have done so by introducing the fictitious Rick Stevens to my readers.
Rick Stevens is the main protagonist, not the hero, in my novels. Like many Midwestern American men born in the first half of the 20th century, he and they have much in common. As you have guessed, I visualize myself as the fictitious Rick Sevens; we are similar but not identical in all aspects.
Most of my life, I have kept a diary or journal. Also, I have written and received many letters which I have arranged, in chronological order, in three-ring notebooks. Besides my memories, these records have provided me with raw material and realistic detail for my novels. In this novel, I have described Ricks courtships, three marriages, his two sons and family life, including his failures and his successes.
Since my retirement, after 35 years from my work as a high school science teacher (physics, earth science, chemistry, biology), I have kept myself busy with my writing. This is my eighth book.
I hope you find it interesting and worth reading. If you have read two of my previous novelsI WAS HERE: The Young Manhood and Education of Rick Stevens and To Become a Rich Americanyou will realize this novelA Farewell to Three Wivesbecomes the third volume in the Trilogy.
Stanley B. Graham
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateMar 14, 2014
ISBN9781491852828
A Farewell to Three Wives: The Marriages of Rick Stevens

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    A Farewell to Three Wives - STANLEY B. GRAHAM

    © 2014 Stanley B. Graham. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 07/25/2014

    ISBN: 978-1-4918-5283-5 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4918-5282-8 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2014900627

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    CONTENTS

    PART ONE KERT TIME: 1957-1963

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    PART TWO CAROLYN TIME: 1964-1991

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Chapter 29

    Chapter 30

    Chapter 31

    Chapter 32

    Chapter 33

    Chapter 34

    Chapter 35

    Chapter 36

    Chapter 37

    Chapter 38

    Chapter 39

    Chapter 40

    Chapter 41

    Chapter 42

    Chapter 43

    Chapter 44

    Chapter 45

    Chapter 46

    Chapter 47

    Chapter 48

    Chapter 49

    Chapter 50

    Chapter 51

    PART THREE BETH TIME: 1992-2009

    Chapter 52

    Chapter 53

    Chapter 54

    Chapter 55

    Chapter 56

    Chapter 57

    Chapter 58

    Chapter 59

    Chapter 60

    Chapter 61

    Chapter 62

    Chapter 63

    Chapter 64

    Chapter 65

    Chapter 66

    Chapter 67

    Chapter 68

    Chapter 69

    Chapter 70

    Chapter 71

    Chapter 72

    PART FOUR RICK TIME: 2010-PRESENT

    Chapter 73

    Appendix

    About The Author

    Dedicated to the memories of:

    Kert Von Fieandt (1927-1962)

    Cynthia Ann Davis-Graham (1933-1991)

    Elizabeth Betty Menges Ramirez-Graham (1920-2009)

    Ida L. Belding Graham-Appleby (1896-1989)

    Martha Maxwell Davis (1901-2001)

    FOR

    Jeff and Kim, their children and descendants

    Doug and Kim, their children and descendants

    Artie and Linda, their children, and descendants

    Bill and Bess, their children and descendants

    Lili, her children and descendants

    PART ONE

    RICK

    CHAPTER 1

    RICK STEVENS, 34, SHOULD HAVE been, on this 16th day of August, 1962, the happiest man in the world. But secretly he was not. He was ashamed of himself for having misgivings. It was true that he could put on a good act and pretend that he was happy, and he did this for the sake of his mother and his wife Kert.

    He had spent most of this day in either the delivery room or the waiting room of White Memorial Hospital in Salem on the Lake, Ohio. In the delivery room, garbed in a long white coat, he held his wife’s hand and gave her light kisses on the cheek. He tried to console her while she was having excruciating labor pains. When she dozed he returned to the waiting room.

    In the waiting room he sat on a red vinyl lounge chair and nervously read Tender Is The Night, a novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald… This was where he was when, twelve hours after he brought her to the hospital, he heard a baby’s cry from the direction of the delivery room.

    He stood up, trembled, and rushed toward the sound. Opening the door, he saw the doctor holding the baby upside down and then hand it to a nurse.

    The doctor said, Give us ten minutes or more to clean up your baby girl.

    Rick was still trembling and breathless. What could he say?

    He went quickly to his wife’s side and kissed her. She said, Darling, did you hear what the doctor said? It’s a girl. I’m so happy.

    Beforehand, he and Kert had decided that if it was a girl, they would call her Debra or Debby. If it was a boy they would call him Douglas or Doug.

    It’s Baby Debbie. I can’t wait to see her.

    In a little while the nurse, a middle-age woman clad in a white uniform and cap, brought in the new baby and laid her in Kert’s arms. Kert exclaimed, Oh, Rick, darling, I’m so happy. My own sweet little girl. Call your mother and aunt.

    First, I want to take pictures, Rick said. He walked quickly to the waiting room and got his 35 mm camera from of his overcoat. The nurse took three pictures of the new parents and their new baby in his wife’s arms.

    Then Rick went to a pay phone next to the waiting room and telephoned his mother and aunt. They were overjoyed and his mother Ida said that she and her sister Troya would walk the short distance to the hospital to see the baby.

    -—-—

    Everything had happened so fast. Rick was trimming forsythia bushes in the backyard of their little stone cottage on the southern bank of Lake Erie when Kert opened the back screen door and screamed, Rick, Rick, come here right now!

    Kert pointed to the kitchen floor where there was a puddle of fluid. My water broke, Kert said.

    Rick ran upstairs and got the suitcase that Kert and he had packed ahead of time. He helped Kert into the passenger seat in his car and drove to White Memorial Hospital, a Victorian mansion that the wealthy White family had bequeathed to the town of Salem on the Lake.

    -—-—

    This day had been extremely hot, in the mid-eighties, and Rick was still clad in the khaki shorts and red T-shirt that he had been wearing that morning when his wife screamed for help. Rick was a slender handsome man in his early thirties with a full head of medium brown hair. He did not laugh too much and when he smiled it was a crooked or wry grin, hardly opening his lips.

    He was thoroughly enjoying his summer vacation from his teaching position at King’s Park High School, a small high school where he was the science teacher. Altogether there were about 300 students and 10 teachers. Rick as well as all the teachers had heavy schedules and large classes. Rick’s subjects included physics, chemistry and general science. Once he even had to teach a geography class. He often felt he was, as he phrased it, spreading himself too thin. He needed to know more and spent much of his free time, what little he had except during the summers, looking up topics in his encyclopedias.

    In addition, he had spent the previous summer, 1961, studying physics at the University of Vermont. He was one of the fifty participants in the NSF Summer Physics Institute. He along with the other science teachers were being paid by the National Science Foundation to study and learn much more about the subjects they were teaching. Make our teachers smarter so that we can keep up with Russia was the basic reason for the numerous summer institutes for science and math teachers. Rick was a diligent and conscientious student and maintained a 90% average in all the weekly tests.

    -—-—

    After making the telephone call to his mother and Aunt Troya, he flopped down on the red lounge chair and waited for them.

    Upon their entering, Rick noted that both women were attired in lightweight colorful summer dresses. Rick’s mother Ida, despite her age of sixty six, looked much younger; she had medium brown hair and an unwrinkled face; and her sister Troya, age sixty, looked younger; she had a few gray hairs and also an unwrinkled face. They kept active and Ida, a widow of the late Judge Appleby, had recently married a man who had proposed marriage to her thirty-two years ago [There is a story about their relationship in the previous novel—To Become a Rich American.]

    When they saw the new baby and Kert, they expressed their congratulations and, as Rick phrased it, raved: How sweet! How darling! How adorable!

    His Aunt Troya asked How much does she weigh?

    Eight pounds, four ounces.

    Oh, a big baby for a girl! Rick knew it was not a premature birth.

    His mother commented, What beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair. Just like you, Rick!

    Rick did not think the new baby girl looked anything like him. True, he had blonde hair up until the age of about thirteen and then it gradually darkened. Now it was a medium brown." Besides he thought that all babies looked alike. He was thinking: If you’ve seen one baby, you’ve seen ’em all.

    He felt that his mother was extremely happy now that Rick, to her imperfect knowledge, had fathered a child. Though she had never actually said it to him, she must have thought that Rick was a mild or passive homosexual. Rick’s stepfather definitely believed that Rick had homosexual traits or tendencies and had expressed these thoughts to his wife.

    Rick, unfortunately, knew that his stepfather was correct in his thinking. Rick was now 34. Two years ago when he was 32 he finally married Kert Von Fielding. Because he had waited so long to marry, Ida surmised that he must be a homo. Even after his marriage when Kert did not become pregnant until the second year, Ida harbored doubts about his sexuality.

    Because of his mother’s enthusiasm Rick sensed that she was giving up the notion that Rick was homosexual. [The word GAY had not yet entered the popular vocabulary as a substitute for homosexual.]

    After his mother and aunt left and the nurse had departed with the new baby, Rick sat down on a straight chair next to his wife. He held her right hand.

    She said, staring into his hazel eyes with her deep blue eyes, Darling, how does it feel to be a new father?

    Rick hesitated to speak and his face reddened. O.K., I guess. He felt that his words were inadequate. He was thinking: Hell, no! I’m not the real father—the biological father. The real father is Chad Power, that rich playboy in NewYork City. Kert must know this, and she is pretending and trying to make me believe that I am the biological father.

    "Is that all you can say? You don’t show much enthusiasm."

    Rick thought: How can I? Kert is only with me now because she had no other place to go. Because of her infidelity to Chad,her sex with Joe Gordon, another rich New YorkerChad told her get out. She packed her bags and took the New York Central train to Salem on the Lake and to the sanctuary of the little stone cottage on Lake Erie and to Rick Stevens.

    Rick realized that he had to improve his performance as an actor. He said, Sorry, Kert. I’m just tired, I guess. It’s been a long hard day for me and for you, too. Remember, I love you very much. He leaned over and kissed her on the right cheek and then on her lips. He said again, I really do love you.

    Go home, darling, get something to eat, and then get some sleep. You’ll feel better. I’m sleepy myself. Kiss me again, darling

    He did and then left the room. While driving back, he decided to stop at the Maple Diner, across State Street from the Catholic church. He did not feel like cooking for only himself. He ordered a cheeseburger, French fries, and a glass of Coca Cola. Then he drove home, to the little stone cottage that Kert loved. He climbed the stairs to their bedroom, removed his clothes, took a shower, toweled off, and climbed into bed naked. He said to himself, "I’m too bushed right now. Gottta get some sleep. I’ll think about Kert’s dishonesty tomorrow. Will she leave me again? And do I care? He fell asleep.

    KERT

    CHAPTER 2

    KERT, THOUGH TIRED FROM HER ordeal of giving birth, stayed awake for at least an hour after Rick left. She was puzzled by Rick’s poor performance. He’s faking. He doesn’t really care about the new baby or even me. Oh, yeah, he kisses me and all that, and he’s more than anxious to have sex with me. We haven’t had any sex this past month. I know that once I get home to the little stone cottage, he’ll be climbing all over me. Well, I can’t say I don’t like sex. It’s what keeps me going. It gives me a lot of pleasure and it makes it possible for me to survive. Kert conjured up the facial images and naked bodies of the men she’d had. How many were there? She would have to consult her diary that she presently kept as well as her diaries at her parents’ house in Finland.

    Among the men, were Rick, Rick’s brother Mart, Chad Power—her wealthy playboy husband and erstwhile husband in New York City, and Joe Gordon—another wealthy playboy in New York City. These were the men who mattered to her at the present time. Oh, yes, there were many others preceding them.

    I know what men want and I know how to give it to them. So many of them have thanked me for doing things their wives would never do.

    The last thought she had was about Rick. I know that Rick is not the biological father. I know that it’s Chad Power. But does Rick know this? Or does he suspect this? I’ve tried to convince him that he, Rick, is the real father. When he brought up the fact that nine months ago I was living with Chad in New York City, I told him that the baby was premature, that in my family babies were often born a month earlier. Did he buy this? All he said was, Yeah? And I’ve got a bridge I’d like to sell you. I’m not sure what he meant by that bridge remark. It’s probably one of those stupid American jokes.

    Then Kert fell asleep and did not wake up until early the next morning.

    Kert decided to nurse her baby, and the nurses brought little Debbie to her quite often, almost every two or three hours. The sucking on her nipples was pleasant and faintly erotic. It elicited images of the various men in her life who had done the same thing but without receiving milk. On the third day her doctor said she could go home. At three o’clock in the afternoon her nurse helped Kert to dress and get into the wheelchair, placed little Debbie in her waiting arms, and wheeled her out the front door of the hospital and to Rick who had been waiting with his car.

    Kert said to Nancy, her nurse, You’ve been very good to me. I hate to leave.

    You were a good patient, Kert. I enjoyed helping you. Take good care of little Debbie. Oh, why am I saying this? I know you will. She looked at Rick who was opening the car door. And you be a good father.

    Rick smiled. It was his typical wry smile. Then he laughed and said, Of course.

    During the ride back to the little stone cottage, Kert mused: So far Rick has been a good father. He’s bought a lot of things new babies need and fixed up the empty bedroom as a nursery. I’m eager to see the room and all he’s bought.

    After arriving at the little stone cottage Rick carried the baby and helped his wife climb the stairs to the nursery. Kert sat in a chair and was pleased to see: a baby crib, a folding diaper changing table, diapers, rubber pants, baby powder, baby shampoo, baby clothes, baby blankets, and other necessary items. She also saw the maple dresser—about four feet wide and four feet tall.

    Rick, sweetie, how did get that big chest of drawers up here?

    Remember this was in my old bedroom in my mother’s apartment. Mother said I could have it, So I asked one of her men tenants to help me carry it to the car. We took the drawers out so it would not be so heavy. Then after I drove it here I wondered how to get it into the house and up the stairs. So, later in the day I asked Bruce Brown, [our neighbor and pharmacist next door] to help me. He was glad to help.

    As Rick was talking, Kert mused: It’s good for a man to have men friends. I hope this is the beginning of a good friendship between Rick and Bruce. And I like Bruce’s wife Margie a lot. Margie was a good looking brunette with a trim figure and medium height. She and Margie had met on the beach during that unusually hot and dry summer. They enjoyed talking together, swimming, and sunbathing. For them, it had been a restful, lazy summer. When they tired of talking they read novels—mostly romantic ones with happy endings. Margie said, No matter what happens, you know that the hero and heroine are going to get back together and be lovey-dovey in the last chapter.

    Kert added, And sometimes it’s not until the last page.

    Kert had never done much cooking so she consulted with Margie about fixing easy meals. Margie even gave her physical help in the kitchen. Kert, because of her time-consuming translating jobs and her previous cohabitation with various wealthy men who treated her to dinners in expensive restaurants and her two-year marriage with the German shoe manufacturer, who hired a cook, a maid, a gardener, and chauffeur, she had little or no experience in serious cooking. While she had been living with Rick and his mother Ida she found out that Ida wanted to do all the cooking and only allowed Kert to wash the dishes and pots and pans. Kert was really a neophyte but Margie helped her and Kert learned a lot.

    She was amused when she heard that Mr. Leach, a crotchety but kind old man who lived across the street in Ida’s neighborhood, when told about Rick’s forthcoming marriage, asked, Can she cook?

    Rick had replied, She knows five languages. She’s charming and beautiful…

    But can she cook? Mr. Leach repeated. Those five languages aren’t going to help you.

    Rick related this exchange to his mother when Kert was not in the same room. But she overheard it when she was walking toward the dining room. Because of the close quarters, it was hard to keep secrets.

    ‘He said what! ‘Can she cook?’ Of course I can cook a little. But I can learn—if you’d let me."

    Well, this is my house, and I’ll do the cooking, Ida exclaimed vehemently. Kert could tell that Ida was overreacting. Later Ida said she was sorry for saying what she said, but she did not volunteer to teach Kert anything. It was Margie Brown who took Kert under her wing and helped her. Margie said, "Kert, do you know the best way to a man’s heart?

    Oh. Lots of ways… Margie interrupted and said, It’s food. Food is Love!

    School began the day after Labor Day and Kert noted that Rick was not happy about going back to school. He had been annoyed when seeing back-to-school sales in the newspapers. It’s like going back to a penitentiary, he said.

    Then, why on earth did you ever become a teacher? Kert asked in a serious tone of voice.

    Rick laughed. June, July, and August.

    I’m serious. I really want to know.

    It’s a long story. Sometime, when we have oodles of time, I’ll tell you all about it.

    Now that school had begun Rick left early in the morning, about 7:00 a.m. and did not return until about 5:00 or 5:30 p.m. She, with the occasional help of her good friend, Margie Brown, would prepare a tasty meal. It’s the best way to a man’s heart, Margie would repeat from time to time. Give your man and family good nutrition and you’ll all stay healthy.

    Because of the money she had earned while working at translating jobs in New York City and having free room and board in Chad’s apartment, Kert had been able to save money. This gave her personal spending money for her train trips between Ohio and New York.

    During the preceding two years she had made numerous train trips back and forth between New York City and Salem on the Lake. However, she spent the majority of her time in New York City with Chad Power, her lover and son of a multimillionaire with whom she had a shipboard romance on the HMS Gripsholm.

    To keep Rick on the string, she lied and told Chad that she wanted to keep in touch with her cousins in Salem on the Lake because the husband Tom had medical problems and had been in and out of the hospital. Actually, when in Salem on the Lake she lived with her first husband Rick Stevens in the little stone cottage on the bank of Lake Erie. Rick Stevens, busy with his teaching and endless school work was easy to deceive.

    While living in New York City with a girlfriend she had re-connected, as she put it, with Chad Power, the playboy son of a multimillionaire. Chad had asked her to move in with him. To make a long story short, she did and they had lots of fantastic sex and Chad asked her to marry him. This was a dream come true. She had always wanted to be a rich American. She could not admit she was already married to Rick and had obtained her American citizenship. As best she could, she juggled these two marriages, taking turns living with Rick in the little stone cottage and then with Chad in his swanky apartment on the upper east side.

    During the weekdays she found employment as a translator; it was part time work, substituting for workers going on vacation. She saved money and converted it into American Express Traveler’s Checks.

    However, the weekday evenings were dull. Chad was busy with preparing his lectures as an Associate Professor of English at Hunter College and checking papers and grading. On weekends she and Chad had sex, but she wanted more sex than Chad could provide.

    On one of her train trips she had met Joe Gordon, another millionaire playboy. Eventually she had sex with him. [The details of her escapades are in the novel To Become a Rich American.]

    Of course, all of these events occurred before she became pregnant and had her baby in Rick’s home town Salem on the Lake.

    Anyhow, when Chad found out that she was having sex with Joe Gordon, he (Chad), in a fit of anger, kicked her out. He told her to pack her bags and that he should have heeded his father’s advice not to marry a gold-digger. She packed her bags that very day and took the New York Central train to Salem on the Lake. She viewed the little stone cottage on Lake Erie as a kind of sanctuary. In the back of her mind, she harbored the notion that maybe, somehow, she would get back together with Chad.

    Kert’s life with Rick, because both men were teachers, was also dull on week nights. After dinner Rick would be inundated with school work—lesson planning, typing tests or quizzes, checking papers, calculating grade point averages. It looked and was tedious work. Afterwards, at bedtimes, Rick was simply too tired for sex. He tried a few times but had some difficulty maintaining an erection. Kert realized, all too clearly, that was why she had been unfaithful to Chad and had sex with Joe Gordon. She had heard the word nymphomaniac, looked up the definition, and thought of herself, secretly, as a nymphomaniac. Well, I’m not exactly a whore, or slut, or prostitute standing on street corners or hanging out in bars, soliciting sex with every Tom, Dick, and Harry. But I must admit, be honest with myself, that I love sex. I love to get a man excited and watch his face as I go down on him.

    Thoughts of this nature occupied her mind during that Fall and Winter after she gave birth to Debbie. Often she would write them in her Diary.

    Driving her white Chevrolet (a secondhand car she had purchased from Emhoff Motors, using money she saved while working at translating jobs in NYC), she shopped for groceries and other items once or twice a week; she fastened Debby in the back of the grocery carts. Then, often, she visited her Finish cousins—Tom and Fran Hammer who lived in Salem on the Lake. Because they both worked and returned home about 4:00 p.m. and were usually tired, Kert did not stay very long. They were always glad to see the baby Debbie. Of course, Kert had told them nothing about her annulled marriage to Chad in New York City.

    Fran, married to her Finnish cousin Tom, remarked several times, Rick must get terribly lonely when you’re gone so much of the time.

    Yeah, added Tom. I know I would not even feel like a married man if Fran were gone most of the time.

    He’s so busy with school work—school, school, school—that he hardly knows I’m there. Kert was thinking: I’m getting sick to death. It’s dull, monotonous, and boring for me. I’d like to escape and take a trip to NYC and walk in on Chad and have sex with him. But what would I do with Baby Debbie. I’m trapped in this marriage.

    He can’t be that busy, she heard Tom say.

    And I miss my translating jobs. You know I bought my car with money I saved. And I bought some of the furniture for the little stone cottage. There are more things we need and I’d like to earn more money.

    Well, I know that teachers don’t earn very much… Tom began to say.

    Kert interrupted him. I’ve seen the salary schedule for King’s Park High School. Rick’s monthly income is only $350. Each year he’ll earn slightly more, but it will take 25 more years for him to earn $600 each month. Kert was thinking: Chad gets $1000 per month from his teaching job at Hunter College. Then his dad gives him a monthly allowance of $4000. And he threatened to disinherit Chad if our marriage was not annulled. Chad told me we had to do it. Even, after that, Chad set me up in another apartment, but his father found out. He had hired a private investigator.

    Yeah, it’s not right, Tom said. Fran and I each earn much more than teachers. Fran worked on the assembly line at a General Electric plant and Tom was the manager of the local A. & P. grocery store.

    Well, I’ve got to go. Rick will be home soon and I have to fix the dinner. Baby Debbie had begun to whimper. It’s her feeding time.

    You can nurse her right here if you wish.

    "O.K. Thanks. Kert bared her left breast, picked up and cradled the baby in her arms. The baby sucked greedily and Kert fantasized about men sucking her nipple.

    RICK

    CHAPTER 3

    IN DEALING WITH KERT, RICK was making the best of a bad situation. He’d had to do this most of his life, especially during his childhood and early manhood while living at home with his stepfather, mother, and half-brother Mart. He had learned to adjust, to cope. First there had been his stepfather’s (Judge Appleby’s) constant put-downs. The Judge found fault with almost everything his wife and Rick said and did. Then his excessive shyness caused him much grief during his school days; he endured much bullying and ostracism.

    As a teenager and in his twenties he’d had some exciting sexual relationships with boys and young men of his same age. Then, he was thinking of himself as a homo. Maybe the Judge was right.

    Later during Army and college days when he also began to relate with women, he started to regard himself as bisexual. In succeeding years he secretly thought of himself as bisexual.

    This was still his mental state during the fall and winter of the school year—1962-1963.

    When he returned home from school at about 5:00 p.m. each day, he felt physically and mentally exhausted. Now in his eighth year of teaching he did not have near the trouble he experienced in his first two years. But it was still tiring and he brought home each night a bulging briefcase. Later after dinner he would turn on the TV. Kert would sit on the sofa and watch TV programs while he, ensconced in his green leather chair, would tackle the papers and items in his brief case. Occasionally he would drop off to sleep and his red pen would leave a tell-tale vertical line on the student’s paper.

    -—-—

    Darling, wake up, Kert said one night, standing next to him. She bent down and whispered, Sweety, let’s go to bed. Debbie is sleeping. Maybe we can have some fun.

    When Kert interruped his work this way, Rick felt himself getting hard. To hell with all these papers, he said to himself.

    Then he and Kert ascended the stairs to their bedroom.

    Kert did a slow striptease, removing one article of clothing at a time and waving it in the air. When she got down to her bra and panties Rick had a roaring hard-on.

    Now it’s your turn, darling.

    They had done this many times before. Rick unbuttoned his shirt and waved it in the air before dropping it. Then he removed his sweat pants. Now he was wearing only his white Jockey briefs.

    Take it off. Take it all off.

    Rick obliged and his erection, freed from its confinement, sprung forward.

    Dance. Shake those buns and that cock! Kert whispered, so as not to wake up the baby.

    Rick obeyed and shook his genitalia. The exercise made him even harder. Kert walked up to him, thrust her arms around his naked body and whispered, Let’s get on the bed. I want you inside of me.

    As Rick phrased it to himself, I did what was expected of me.

    This was one of their rare but typical sexual escapades on a school night. There were many school nights when Rick just could not get it up. As a result, they had most of their sex on weekends.

    -—-—

    Rick realized that Kert wanted much more sex than he could provide. He sensed Kert’s frustration and boredom. However, she kept herself amused and occupied by reading mostly romance novels. Thus the school year of 1962-1963 passed into oblivion.

    Rick had applied for participation in a PSSC summer physics institute at Fordham University, located in the Bronx north of NewYork City. This course was touted as the new way to teach physics, and Rick wanted to be in on the ground floor. He was accepted. It would begin June 10th, 1963.

    The problem was: What would happen to Kert? What should she do?"

    Just after he had showed her his letter of acceptance, Kert spoke up immediately, I’ll go to New York City with you. I know I can’t live in the dorm on the Fordham campus with you, but I could live with my girlfriend and then get part time translating jobs like I did before.

    Rick was instantly suspicious of a double motive on her part. He said, Are you going to get back together with Chad Power?

    Kert’s jaw dropped. Rick sensed that she had been thinking about Chad. She said, No, that’s behind me and it’s another story. He’s probably living with another woman now.

    We can take the New York Central together.

    It would be fun for us to get Pullman tickets so we could share a double bed behind those green velvet curtains, Kert said, obviously thinking about her frequent journeys to NYC in the past. I’d love to make love behind that green velvet curtain.

    Sex again, Rick said to himself. Nymphomaniac! He would go along for the ride and do what was expected of him.

    -—-—

    What shall we do about little Debbie? Rick asked Kert the next morning. They were seated at opposite ends of their living room sofa.

    Well, I thought about my Finnish cousins here in Salem on the lake, but they’re both working full time. I’m still breast feeding the baby so I believe it would be best if I took her with us. I telephoned my girlfriend in New York City while you were working out in the back yard. She said it would be O.K. for me to stay at their apartment. She and her husband have full-time jobs. She said there are several young girls in her neighborhood who do baby-sitting. They could take care of Debbie while I do part-time translating work.

    Kert’s got this all figured out, Rick said to himself. She did earn a lot of money previously when doing translating work. She must be good at it.

    Kert continued talking enthusiastically. I feel good about working again and saving money. And being in that exciting city of New York! Oh, how I have missed it! Her words, to Rick’s ears, were ringing with vim, vigor, and vitality

    Rick had seldom seen her so animated. On weekends you and I and Debbie can get together and see the glorious sights of the city—the Bronx Zoo, the wonderful museums, the Empire State Building. Think about how much fun we can have!

    Rick had been listening carefully and was wondering if she harbored ideas about getting back together with Chad Power, the millionaire playboy who was her former lover and husband and who also enabled her to obtain her American citizenship—the same thing that Rick had done in Salem on the Lake.

    I wonder if she is still carrying a torch for him and if he is still carrying a torch for her. And I wonder if she is familiar with that idiom—carrying a torch.

    Rick thought about how she had deceived both him and Chad Power, how dishonest she had been with both of these men. Did he dare to trust her again? When Chad had kicked her out and she had returned to Rick and the little stone cottage in Salem on the Lake, he felt sorry for her. She had sought sanctuary; that was the way he phrased it to himself. She had nowhere else to go.

    Can you forgive me, darling? she had pleaded with him. I’ve lied, cheated, stolen, broken nearly all the Ten Commandments. I’ve been a horrible sinner. As Kert was mouthing these words, Rick thought he could detect around Kert’s beautiful and enticing mouth the tiny trickle of a smile

    Are you really sincere? Rick asked.

    Of course, she calmly replied.

    Well, I might regret it, but I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt as I said before: ‘To understand all is to forgive all.’ It’s the proper Christian attitude, I guess. ‘Turn the other cheek. Love your enemies. Forgive those who trespass against you.

    Oh, darling! It sounds like you really love me—in spite of all my terrible faults…

    Yes, I really do… love you. His voice broke and he could hardly utter the words.

    Oh, I’m so glad. Kert stood up, hurried over to where he was sitting on the couch, sat down on his lap, and thrust her arms around his neck. She kissed him fully on the mouth. She finally removed her lips and said, And I do love you, Rick darling."

    The romantics say that true love never really dies. It lives on forever. It’s like a small spark of fire that never was extinguished. Rick had been trying to convince himself that he was still madly in love with Kert.

    . And you are a true romantic? Kert said.

    Yes, I think I am. Or, maybe that’s what I think I am…

    The words of the French philosopher Renee Descartes came to mind: Cogito ergo sum—I think, therefore I am. Rick paraphrased it and thought I think I am in love. Therefore, I am in love." It was a somewhat strange way of thinking. Whatever one thinks is his reality. Whatever I think is my reality.

    You know, darling, you’re just too smart or analytical for your own good. Give me another kiss. She fastened her lips on his mouth. Then she said, I’m starting to feel the real man in you…

    She was still sitting on his lap, and Rick was feeling the start of an erection. He said, We’ve got a lot of work to do. Remember we have to be there by the tenth of June. It’s already the fifth of June.

    O.K. lover boy. Give me a rain check. She reluctantly stood up and Rick waited two minutes before he stood up.

    They ascended the stairs and began packing their suitcases.

    KERT

    CHAPTER 4

    KERT FELT ESPECIALLY PROUD OF her husband Rick when she read in the Indianola Star Beacon the following article:

    RICK STEVENS GIVEN SCIENCE STUDY GRANT

    Rick Stevens, 155 Lake Road, Salem on the Lake, Ohio, has been selected as one of 50 high school physics teachers from throughout the country to attend the Summer Institute for High School Physics Teachers.

    It is sponsored by the National Science Foundation and will be held at Fordham University, New York City.

    Mr. Stevens, who has been teaching science at King’s Park High School during the last eight years, will attend the Institute from June 17 to August 16.

    The new course being offered at the institute features a more fundamental approach to the science of physics and a different type of laboratory, in which the students do experiments using readily available materials such as coffee cans and soda straws.

    Developed by Physicists

    The course was developed by the Physical Science Study Committee, a group of physicists with headquarters at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Tried at a group of selected schools over the past six years, it is now made available to any school system wishing to use it.

    Mr. Sevens has also taken two other advanced physics courses under the National Science Foundation grant programs at the University of Vermont.

    A 1946 graduate of Rowe High School in East Salem on the Lake, Mr. Stevens earned his B.A. degree from Ohio State University in 1954. He has also attended Glasgow College in Pennsylvania.

    -—-—

    Next to the article was a head-shot of Rick Stevens. This black and white photo revealed his abundance of medium brown wavy hair, his slender face, his black horn-rim glasses, and his serious expression. He was wearing a white button-down Oxford shirt and a striped tie.

    She said to Rick who was reading another part of the newspaper, Yes, Rick darling, this picture looks exactly like you, you handsome brute. It’s one of my favorites.

    Yeah, that’s one of my favorite photos. I hope I always look like that.

    You will for a long time, sweetie.

    Kert has been especially lovey-dovey since school has been out and especially during the last few day, Rick said to himself. Well, I know she’s happy because we’re going to NewYork City.

    Rick had debated about whether or not to drive into New York City, but he told Kert that he decided it would be safer and cheaper to take the train and use public transportation in the city. While he was busy studying at Fordham University, he would not be using his car; the car would be an extra responsibility. On weekends when he wanted to see Kert and baby Debbie, he could take the subway train from the Bronx to Manhattan. Kert would be living with her girlfriend and husband on East 40th street.

    Being gone about two months would mean that the batteries in both their cars would be discharged, but Rick had a battery charger and he could charge them up overnight. No sweat.

    It seemed to Rick that the next few days passed like clockwork. Kert had gone to the New York Central depot and made a Pullman reservation for a lower berth and paid for it in advance, using one of her American Express Travelers’ Checks.

    The departure date was Saturday, June 15, 1963. The time was 6:30 p.m. They would arrive the next morning about 7:00 a.m. at Grand Central Station. And there would be a whole day for them to get settled in—Kert with her girlfriend and Rick in his dormitory room at Fordham University.

    Kert’s cousin Tom and his wife Fran drove Rick and Kert to the depot in Salem on the Lake. Tom said, Have some fun while you’re in the Big Apple.

    Fran added, Remember all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

    Rick had forgotten about the need for somebody to mow the lawn at the little stone cottage. Don’t worry, Tom said. The neighborhood kid who mows my lawn will be happy to earn a little extra money mowing yours. He charges only about a dollar an hour. I’ll pay him, and you can settle with me when you get back home."

    They boarded the train and waved goodbye to Tom and Fran. They’re good people, Kert said. They’ve helped me a lot.

    RICK

    CHAPTER 5

    RICK WAS THINKING: AND THEY have forgiven a lot, too. I know that Kert has taken advantage of their hospitality. Rick was recalling the time when Kert first came to this country and lived with Tom and Fran Hammer for several months; she had free board and room. She thinks nothing of imposing upon people.

    Rick tried to put out of his mind all of Kert’s faults. He had told her several times that he was forgiving her. He had quoted To understand all is to forgive all. Tonight he would try to enjoy the trip in the luxurious Pullman railroad car. After the black porter made up their lower berth with fresh-smelling sheets and blankets he climbed into the bed after Kert, carrying baby Debbie, had entered. He closed the green velvet curtain so they would have privacy.

    He stripped down to his white Jockey briefs while Kert stripped down to her bra and panties. Just watching his wife disrobe was exciting and he tried to hide his growing erection.

    Kert noticed anyhow and said, Darling, I don’t think we should do anything. Debbie is at last asleep and we don’t want to wake her up. And who knows: Somebody might open up this green curtain… and see us. You know what I mean, sweetie?

    Yes. I know. The fact that we might be discovered makes it even more exciting.

    Kert kissed her husband on the lips. Then she moved her mouth about six inches away and said, Maybe… in the middle of the night, if we wake up and… everybody is asleep, we might have a little fun.

    Rick realized that Kert did not want to rule out any possible sexual adventure, and neither did he. He turned off the light and they were soon sleeping back to back.

    They did not wake up until after 6:00 a.m., Sunday morning, and the train was scheduled to arrive at Grand Central Station about 7:00 a.m. We’ve got to hurry, Rick said.

    Kert carried baby Debbie to the women’s rest room where she changed the diaper and dressed both Debbie and herself. Then, after returning to her seat, she breast fed Debbie and discreetly positioned a blanket so as to shut off the view of any observers. Rick knew she did not want every curious Tom, Dick, and Harry to ogle her breasts.

    In Grand Central Station Rick found a restaurant that was serving breakfast and ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice for Kert and himself. Then they went to the baggage check and retrieved several large suitcases that had been checked on their tickets. Rick loaded them onto a cart and wheeled them outside to a waiting line of yellow taxicabs.

    Where to? the taxi driver asked after hefting the heavy suitcases into the trunk.

    East 40th street. This was where Kert’s girlfriend and husband lived. Maria and Pierre Carrino were their names. Of Italian descent, they were both tall, had swarthy complexions, dark hair, and trim bodies.

    Kert and Maria embraced. Then Kert introduced Rick.

    Maria and Pierre were friendly and warmly welcomed their guests. How about some coffee? Maria offered. Or breakfast?

    Coffee would be great, Rick said.

    Nothing else, Kert said. We had scrambled eggs and bacon at the Station.

    Small talk followed and Rick enthusiastically described his upcoming PSSC physics course at Fordham University.

    Pierre told Rick about the subway system and the trains that ran between Manhattan and the Bronx where Fordham University was located. He said, Forget the taxis. They’re too expensive. Use the subway trains when you visit.

    Rick was pleased and glad to know that Kert would be living with people who were good-natured and helpful. He said to himself, They’re good people to hang out with. He did not know of a financial arrangement, if any, that Kert would have with them. He assumed that Kert would freeload off hem as she had with her cousins in Salem on the Lake and with him and his mother.

    An hour later Rick said, Well, I’d better get started. He told Kert and Maria and Pierre that he would like to visit next Saturday or Sunday if it was convenient.

    Maria said, Why don’t you plan on having dinner with us on Sunday? And do you like spaghetti and meatballs, Italian style?

    Rick was surprised to receive this kind invitation. He said, Thanks a million. I’d like that very much.

    Because Rick had to carry two heavy suitcases, he decided to travel to the Rose Hill campus of Fordham University by taxi rather than by subway train. True, it would be more expensive but worth it. The taxi driver, a burly man, probably in his mid-forties, dropped Rick off at the Administration Building, a huge granite Gothic structure, partially covered with English ivy,

    Rick had the feeling that he was in a medieval city. The campus was enclosed with a high ornamental black iron fence. Well-tended green lawns and shrubbery were abundant. Fordham University was almost like an oasis smack in the middle of the drab and honky-tonk surroundings of the Bronx

    There was much paperwork and Rick made the first payment with American Express Travelers’ Checks. Another payment would be due after he received the government grant check. He was assigned to #213 in a foreboding looking gray granite structure called St. Thomas Hall.

    Rick learned that his roommate was to be Roger Edwards from Michigan. When he entered the room he found that Roger had not arrived yet.

    He looked about. The dormitory room left much to be desired. The furniture consisted of two single beds, two chests of drawers, two desks, two straight-back chairs, and nothing else. What’s more, it was one of the dirtiest rooms that Rick had ever been in. There was a fine view of a church from the double windows but the grime on the glass nearly obliterated this view. He opened the drawers and found them incredibly filthy. He did not want to put any of his clean clothes in them. He put his two suitcases next to the wall, left the room, and locked the door.

    As he was walking down the hall he was stopped by a young man, carrying two large suitcases. Could I ask you a question?

    Sure.

    Where is Room 213?

    Hey, I just came from there. We must be roommates. I’m Rick Stevens.

    The young man proffered his hand. Roger Edwards.

    They shook hands. Rick said, You’re gonna be shocked.

    Whatya mean? Roger was about three inches shorter than Rick’s six feet, had light brown hair, a thin face with high cheek bones, and a slender physique. He was wearing khaki shorts and a white T-shirt with red letters UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN.

    When Roger saw the room he reacted the same as Rick did. What a dirty dump this is. I’ve got my car. Let’s go buy some cleaning supplies and clean this place up.

    Roger drove his two-toned green and white Chevrolet to a nearby grocery store where they purchased two bottles of Mr. Clean, Windex, Ajax, a plastic bucket, a scrub brush, scrub rags and sponges.

    After returning to the room Rick removed his tan seersucker summer suit and red striped tie and donned a pair of shorts, no shirt. Roger took off his shirt. Both men got busy. Several times they had to get clean hot water from the men’s bathroom down the hall. They found other men like themselves who were cleaning their rooms.

    One man said, I heard they have maids but all they do is make the beds and change the sheets every two weeks. Nobody cleans the rooms.

    Another man said, Now I know why the movies always show nuns and sisters on their hands and knees, with buckets and scrub brushes.

    Rick was so busy working and enjoying the comradeship that he forgot all about Kert.

    A couple of hours later when they’d finished they lay down on their single beds and began talking. Rick learned that Roger had majored in geology at the University of Michigan, loved to tell and collect jokes, was a bachelor, was four years younger than Rick, had one brother and one sister, and was a kind of compulsive talker. It seemed to Rick that Roger was pouring out his life history.

    Roger did not ask many questions about Rick’s life history, and Rick was glad he hadn’t. He furnished just the barest of essentials—that he was married and his wife was living with friends in the city, that his wife would probably be engaged in part-time translating work, that she was very good at it and loved it, that they had a baby daughter. That was it.

    While Roger was rambling on and on, Rick was thinking about Kert. Long accustomed to her inconstant behavior, he felt relieved to be away from her. He would not be seeing her again until next Sunday’s dinner. Well, anyhow, perhaps he should take her to a museum on Sunday afternoon or do something with her. It would be like a date. He’d telephone her later that evening.

    In the meantime he would enjoy his new-found freedom. Roger was still rambling on and Rick was trying to say uh huh at proper intervals.

    At one point Roger said, I’ve told you more about myself than I intended. Sorry. Hope you were not bored.

    Hell, no! Everybody’s got a lot of emotional baggage or whatever. Anyhow, why don’t we take our showers, get cleaned up, and go out, find a restaurant, and get something to eat?

    Roger stood up. Hey, that sounds like just the ticket.

    It was a hot day and both men were sweaty. Rick felt much better after his shower, and he knew that Roger did, too. He wrapped his towel around his middle and walked back through the hall to their Room #213. He could not help noticing that Roger simply paraded naked through the hall, carrying his towel. Male frontal nudity! He’d have to get used to it again and not allow himself to be aroused.

    It had been a problem in his life before he was married and even after he was married. He pictured himself as bisexual, but he had never told Kert. If she knew, would she immediately dump him? It had been a couple of years since he and Dave Lawson, his homo buddy, had gotten together. They had met when they were sailors on a Great Lakes iron ore freighter and later became fellow students—English majors—at Ohio State. Dave was now married to a girl from Shaker Heights, and they were living in Elyria, Ohio, where Dave was a high school English teacher.

    English had been, so to speak, Rick’s great interest. After three years of pre-med courses—chemistry, physics, zoology, physiology, shark anatomy, cat anatomy, embryology—Rick decided he was not cut out to be a doctor. He discovered he could not memorize as fast as his fellow students. Not nearly as fast! As a result, his grades were piss poor, as he phrased it to himself. Medical colleges would reject him; there was no point in applying.

    He changed his major to English and earned mostly A’s and B’s. Then, after graduating with a B.A. degree, he decided, with his mother’s advice and encouragement, to become a high school English teacher like his buddy Dave Lawson.

    He chose to go to a teachers college and obtain 18 semester hours of educational courses so

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