My assignment was to work with the electricians. Actually, it scared me to death because one of my frequent death dreams was an electrocution dream. It was so real that I’d actually have everything go black and void after the electrocution and then I'd think I had died and that would wake me up. Anyone with similar kinds of nightmares would know I was somewhat apprehensive and admitted to being that way. We all sat in the mill truck and drove the bumpy back roads to install a generator repaired to serve as a back up when the power blipped. The stench of the mill mingled with the stench of male sweat. Most of the maintenance men had been there for a couple of hours, their bodies drenched in that sweltering heat.
The truck was a yellow Ford wearing dings and dents from equipment and inconsiderate men riding around in it. Actually, I knew it was yellow because I often washed its clone, the lab truck. To look at this one coated in Caustic and red dust one would think it was actually a baby poop color. Most of the men carelessly sat on the edge of the bed while I chose to sit down in the bed. Due to the fact that the generator was in there, I couldn’t. They all looked at each other and figured out I was a pussy. I climbed over the side and decided to sit on the open tailgate. I figured if I fell off at least the truck would be up ahead and not run over my scared ass. Since the mill was one continuous series of potholes and strewn junk to swerve around, the ride almost made me carsick. The sun beat down on me, even though it was late and the heat of the day was long gone. The feeling of wanting to throw up increased with each bump, each whiff of body odor, and each bead of sweat that popped out and started running down my face and over my ribs. Already the two weeks in the lab's air-conditioned room where I ran my tests softened me and made me unable to take working outside in the heat. We drove up to the spot and broke into crews. They assigned me to an electrician named James.
As usual, I started out innocent enough. I was fascinated with his ability to handle the electricity without any fear. I was his "gofer" and I held or handed him his tools, like some surgical nurse with a brain surgeon. Each time I’d hand him something, he’d look over his shoulder and smile at me. He had the neatest smile and the bluest eyes ever envisioned. I have this thing about eyes. I’m more attracted to eyes than any thing and his were like sapphires. He was forty with an ice cream gut as well as squirrel ticking gray hair. I studied him and he reminded me of a picture of my daddy back when my dad was young—much younger than James was at that time. By the time my daddy was in his forties, like James, he'd plain out ole gotten fat and had a moon face. I remembered the handsome man in his Air Force uniform during World War II. There was this unmistakable resemblance. As the evening wore on, we had more and more jobs to do. I really liked James. All night we cut up, laughed, and he smiled as well as winked at me. He made me feel great. No, he did not make a pass or hint anything untoward at all. Apparently, that is my downfall. I was so gullible that I didn’t realize that part of a man’s game plan could simply be to act uninterested to ease his way in for the score. I had my defenses down. (Joe later told me how he played that game with all of his women. Now, sadly, I realized he played me the same way back in 1982.) The only one who didn’t seduce me by that method had been Dan or the other men whom I seduced when I got in a totally manic, promiscuous-run-away high. James's being friendly and his acting so very nice without any hint of anything sexual definitely set me up.
We were riding the elevator up to the top of the electric plant to service a big main power source. This really scared me. It was one of the power boxes from the huge steam driven mill generator. It made enough electricity to run the mill and sell some back to Alabama Power Company. We arrived in front of the bank of breaker switches and the endless line of electrical boxes dominated by entanglements of colossal wires with mega volts flowing through them. I imagined myself like Goldfinger in that James Bond movie, falling against one of them, and sizzling. First, we went to tag out one main breaker that governed the boxes he was going to work on. Not only was I deathly afraid for myself, but I was truly, genuinely concerned for James’ safety. I asked him what I should do if I noticed that he was being shocked. We looked around for a board and he told me to knock him off with the board. My heart was in my throat as he started meticulously throwing switches and opening the power boxes and doing something inside one of them. I stood there with the hairs standing up on my neck as if the voltage was already in the air, the wooden board ready to go. Finally, James manipulated things to a point that he felt it was safe to undo and replace one of those heavy lines and its connectors. He moved his gloved hand in ever so slowly as if to see if, maybe, there would be a way to tell if the wire was still live or not. I heard my heart pounding in my chest as raw fear churned out the adrenalin incase I needed to save his life.
He grabbed the wire and nothing happened—thank the Lord. Next, he went about his business of taking that cable off and changing out the connector.
He turned to me and said, "You know, I really like you as my helper. No other helpers thought to ask me what to do if something ever went wrong. I’m touched that you cared."
We then walked over to the elevator to ride down from the recovery area, then on to the shop to get us a new assignment and take us a quick break. There is nothing more sexual than a nice adrenalin rush. After James said those words to me, and with myself still very up, alert, and anxious, that translated into a form of excitement. We were the only two in that part of the mill and we knew it. There was electricity in the air all right, but it didn’t have anything to do with that big generator anymore. We stood there in the slow, slow service elevator and sparks started flying between us. He looked into my eyes and I looked back into his. We seemed to have a magical pull between us as we both stepped towards each other and kissed. It wasn’t one of those passionate kisses, because that was way too risky. Instead, it was one of those, "I can’t stay a way from you any more" kisses. It was a magic kiss and he threw a switch in me that night. In fact, I started calling him the electrician magician. That was our little inside joke as to what had taken place. I can’t remember now who suggested that we meet after work that night, but it was something that both of us wanted and wanted badly. I explained to him how to meet me at the end of the dirt road that took us to our farm, then for him to go past our farm down to that church where Barry and I met. By now, William and I were living on the farm. I think I arrived first, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him. I parked behind the church. I could smell the sexual aroma that I exuded. I was like a wild female in estrus. This was going to be so different from anything I'd ever experienced because the electricity or chemistry between us was powerful. I heard a car coming and my heart almost skipped a beat or two or three. Sure enough, it pulled in and parked beside me.
We were like people in those bad movies where the passion is so high that shedding clothes, kissing, touching, is a flurry of activity. We both got out of our cars simultaneously. We met in the middle and went into a hot embrace kissing deeply and wildly. We turned our heads as if shaking off the power that this chemistry produced. We both undressed each other and literally almost ripped the clothes off. We were in a passionate frenzy by the time we were naked and got into his car. We were so destined to have sex that our bodies just slipped into each other and our senses were suspended. I felt a fire as I never felt before in my life. I didn’t have a physical orgasm that night, but I had a mental one. The sex was so intense that the whole thing from beginning to end was one big orgasm. When we finished, we were both drenched in sweat. I don’t have any idea how long we stayed there or how long the sex lasted. I have no sense of time to begin with but even if I had, the time just ceased being of any importance. There was no tenderness afterwards. This was just too raw for any tenderness. This was lust unleashed and I couldn’t contain my desire. As soon as we finished, I wanted to go again. I never wanted to stop. I wanted to feel him, kiss him, writhe with him, and never uncouple. I wanted to feel that fire and electricity jumping from my body to his and back again. He was in his forties and probably normally couldn’t have gone again, but this was so powerful and hot that as soon as I showed any sign of desiring him again, he rose to the occasion and we came back together as if there hadn't been a first time. The second time the passion was greater than the first. We both knew how wonderful it felt which only upped the voltage. We rolled and changed positions with him on top, then me on top, then him, then me, and on and on it went. Having just orgasmed gave him incredible stamina before the next release and we probably had sex for well over an hour. It was wild, passionate, draining, and so satisfying. If I thought that I knew what the big deal was about with Barry, this was going to change me forever. Moreover, it did.
The only difference between James and Barry is that when I came in that night, God, no one would mistake that I’d had sex. I carried the musky odor inside the house with me. I was still practically panting when I walked in. William was waiting on me because I had been running late. Since I knew that William had this thing for Erin, then I knew it was perfectly safe for me to be honest this go round. Besides, William really wanted to test the waters with his theory in his book.
The rest of that summer I went completely insane over sex. Every single minute of every single day, that is all that I thought about. It wasn’t just sex—it was sex with James. I fell for James—in lust, not love, although I was confused. I mean, I’d just think of his name and get butterflies in my stomach. This was beautiful and guilt free because he was divorced and my husband approved. For about a week, we met every single night. We were working the same shift because of the outage. As life in general had it: all good things must end and James suddenly stopped being able to meet me. He finally fessed up that although divorced; he and his ex-wife were living together. She became suspicious of his continuous late arrivals. He admitted that she'd caught him earlier in their marriage, and that was the reason they were divorced. Their two teenage girls still lived at home. One of the main reasons that they continued to live together was for the girls. James and his wife seemed like they had deep feelings for each other. James started coming to his senses while a driving hunger for him controlled my life. It was beyond love, lust, or anything. It was as if all of my bottled up life had the cork suddenly removed and every inch of my body vibrated with sexual desire. The more I copulated, the more I wanted and nothing could put out the fire. Believe it or not, I still hadn't orgasmed—not a factor in my lusty drive.
July 23, 1982 11:50 p.m.
Eventually, one night, with James bending me over the back of his car in the middle of the road, it happened one time and I thought I was going to feint. Lord, if I wanted sex before, now I REALLY wanted sex. I'd finally gotten so much more thrill, the fire was drenched, and it felt divine. James started seeing me less and less, I wanted more, and more so, I went to others. I went back to Donny who was working at the mill. Even after all those years, he was still a dud. Now, I set a barometer and a means to judge who was a good lover and a poor one. Along came Joe during that summer of 1982 when he transferred to my crew.
May 5, 2003 9:50 p.m.
I glanced around the house now devoid of Joe—a house once filled in every crevice and corner with Joe: photos of him, us, things he made as a child, artwork or porcelains he'd given me, and my favorite, the Dutch iris stained glass lamp. This had been a surprise birthday present while up in the mountains back in 1999. Most of the presents he'd given me, jewelry to sexy lingerie as well as many of our collectable irises, I'd returned to Joe. I told him to give the jewelry and the lingerie to his girlfriends; impress them and dazzle them with his romantic ways. I knew he's already snowed and showered them with flowers, cards, and meals out in fancy restaurants. However, the lamp, I couldn't part with it. It was too beautiful, too peaceful to look at its cobalt blue petals against emerald green blades set against cream-colored glass. They actually were upside down with the green originating at the lamp's top with long beautiful stems fanning out to the skirt in a chorus line of irises dancing in unison, trimmed in ruby colored glass border pieces. Stunning to look at, brilliant colors when I turned it on . . . almost like a Christmas tree's effect on a child, however, more than that, as if that weren't enough, it represented the best of Joe—the man I fell in love with.
My mind reached back to hold onto that Joe, if only for a minute—the Joe I'd cry for when I realized that I'd kill that part of him too. I wanted to carry some part of him around in my heart, but nothing could stop my determination to end his savage treatment of me. There were two of him, and both had to go if I wanted peace. I turned on the lamp sending the cobalt and crimson light slicing the dark, soothing me as I remembered the good Joe.
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