Mr. Knapp's Chemistry class, in Senior year of High
School. I got to sit next to Martha.
Martha was a pretty blonde girl, a little goth by today's
standards. She always wore fabulously
unusual outfits that she had gotten at a thrift store, mostly things from
before the 1960's it seems. She was
opinionated, and walked to her own beat.
I liked her immediately.
We constantly got in trouble for talking amongst ourselves
in class. It didn't help that Mr. Knapp
didn't like me much. About as much as I
liked chemistry class I think. He'd bust
me reading some sci-fi book when I was supposed to be listening to his
lecture. It was wonderful.
Martha was always friendly with me, showing me the latest
book she was reading, pointing out something unusual about her current day's
outfit, or pestering me to get an earring.
Two events stand out for me, when I think about her and I.
The first was when she handcuffed me to my desk, during
class. Much to Mr. Knapp's dismay. She didn't have a key, and had to patiently
pick the lock with a bobby pin. That was
the whole point of her locking me to the desk I suppose. Showing me that she could do it. It took her a long time. About half of class as I recall. Having her knelt down next to me, with one
arm on my leg, and her little tongue sticking out of her mouth as she
concentrated on picking the lock; made the always hard task of following
anything that was going on in chemistry class, an impossibility. She did get it off, and had to surrender the
handcuffs to Mr. Knapp. What he did with
them, I don't know.
The second, was when she loaned me a book. The Story of O. It was one of our happy talks about what was
going on, and she told me she had just finished the best book ever. She asked me if I would like to read it? I didn't know, the version of the book she
had was all white, with simple black lettering.
No pictures on the cover at all.
It looked pretty dry to me. She
assured me that I would like it. So I
took it for the weekend.
I was a pretty fast reader, and had it done by Sunday
afternoon. The book was stunningly
different from anything I had ever read.
It featured ideas, and lifestyles, that I had scarcely imagined. Up until then, sex was interesting, to be
sure; but it was pretty normal. At least
as I thought of it. Of course, at that
time in my life, I knew I liked girls, and I knew I wanted to be with
them. However, I was clueless as to how
to go about it.
To a boy such that I was, that book, with the story dealing
with submission, domination, role playing, pain and pleasure; was like a peek
into the all color world of Oz while standing in black and white Kansas.
When I returned the book to her on Monday, she smiled
wickedly, and asked if I had liked it. I
turned a little red, and told her I had.
As the next step in this little narrative, I wish I could
tell you that I started dating Martha. I
wish I could tell you that Martha introduced me to young physical love. But I can't.
I never asked her out, even though my 20 plus years of hindsight tells
me that she was into me. Like I said, I
was clueless.
I knew what I wanted.
I just didn't know how to get there.
And so Martha and I parted ways at the end of that semester.
Although it was three more years before I finally found my
bumbling way into the arms of a woman for the first time, I think that sharing
time with Martha, and reading the book she loaned me, was a pretty significant
signpost on my road of sexual awakening.
And with every year that passes, it seems I find a new wrinkle to my
quest for understanding sex and human relations, which really didn't start in a
mature type of way until Martha and that book.
I look back fondly on the clash of my naive values and the
content of that book. And how
deliciously she knew exactly how it had made an impression on my brain.
I look back smiling, over the now 22 year gap separating us.
Thank you Martha.
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