She did not know what to make of Jefferson’s psychological problems and, as she sped away from the Wyden’s place, any way she decided to look at the problem proved disheartening – if not downright disturbing.
Just when life seemed to be getting good. Just when she had found a man at last and seemed to be spreading her wings (albeit far from her father’s view), she had ended up taking two steps back instead of forward.
All those sinister overtones that had been hanging around in Boston ever since she had broken it off with that creep had returned. Back then she had always resisted reporting him to the police; had suffered the phone calls through the guilt she felt about letting someone down, when she should have been focused on acknowledging how disturbed the man was.
Escape back to Portland had been her way out and, rather than complicating things further, she had looked to that as the end of it all. When she was done with college she would be free and that thought alone had caused her to hang on in there. She had a lot to learn about getting herself into situations that were imposed upon her by a restrictive familial outlook and regretted ever walking into the situation. Even so, she thought the time to make up for that mistake and learn from it would be ahead. Instead, as she caught sight of him watching them, Darlene learned that the mistake would keep following her around.
What could possibly be done about such an obsessive and offended individual? She had closed her Facebook account because he had been sending lengthy and unhinged diatribes about purity and righteousness. Implying to her that she risked being turned into a whore like the rest of society’s women. All because, during one frank conversation, she had admitted lamenting the fact that she had not had at least some experience of being with the opposite sex.
When it came to leaving him, that admission gave Jefferson his ammunition. He accused her of giving into the devil and chasing those lustful dreams. She was leaving him to be seduced and would soon be wanton.
Of course, though she would have expressed it in different terminology, the irony was that this was exactly what had happened. She had met up with the Wyden she had always fancied and found that he now liked her too. But that was none of Jefferson’s business. Returning home had offered a certain amount of clarity on life and she no longer believed in hiding herself away from the world. It was there to experience and they were two consenting adults. His disapproval, or his daft old mother’s, for that matter, did not mean anything to her anymore – if she could only kick him out of her life for good.
Feeling she had succumbed to a false dawn, Darlene began to reflect on all that had happened over the last couple of weeks. Though she had wanted to seek a more expansive lifestyle, she had expected to discover one very slowly and had been completely surprised at a handsome man turning up to sweep her off her feet.
Giddy from the attention, in the back of her mind it had occurred to Darlene that Kurt deciding to look her way was unforeseeable, in that nothing had ever passed between them to suggest he might. Maybe he had thought her too young to flirt with before and so held back. Whatever the decision she would admit to finding no issue with his change of mind. It felt good to have been noticed so quickly and, though what then happened contrasted sharply with her tendency to be so regimented and planned with everything, allowing him to lead the way was a real turn on. Kurt was helping her to discover so much about herself that she had always repressed. He had always struck her as confident and focused. Two character traits she really admired. So, she had taken a chance in deciding to trust his intentions and the chance seemed to have paid off, even though their relationship felt like it was a no-strings style. But now Jefferson had turned up again and reminded her of that old proverb. That you may be through with the past but the past sure isn’t through with you.
The idea that God might be punishing her for being promiscuous after all flashed through her mind. She found the strength to dismiss it for now, reminded of her last New Year’s Resolution to have the courage of her convictions. Darlene did not believe in all the restrictions she had allowed overcautious parents to place on her life, though those convictions would have to survive a lot more tests than ever before. Jefferson was edging towards the extreme – if he had not already – and the journey home was not yet proving effective enough in seeking a solution.
Plus, if the overall scenario was not bad enough, things were about to get a lot more complicated.
Thinking back, she had not considered listening to Kurt’s advice when Jefferson had driven past calling her a ‘slut’. Her instinct had been to keep the males out of the matter, thinking that if she asked Kurt to stick up for her it might only make matters worse. Someone could get hurt or end up in prison and she feared such a scenario as a result of a problem that was following her around.
Hindsight caused her to change her mind when she saw Jefferson’s jeep in her rear-view mirror. Sticking together when presented with uncertain and perilous circumstances, as Kurt had suggested, was not such a bad idea after all. What had she been thinking speeding off like that? Now she was being tailed by a closet psychopath and leading him right to her parent’s place. It would surely have been better to hide behind Kurt’s exquisi
tely toned shoulders than her poor old dad, who she could not imagine saying ‘boo’ to a goose, but it was too late to do anything about that now. They were heading to Portland, if the embittered jester was not planning to knock her off the road before they got there.
The truth was that he already had her home address, so leading him there was not revealing any secrets. Knowing what his intentions were, however, was a completely different question. At worse he had something violent in mind, at best the same kind of pestering via phone calls and such that she had put up with in the past. Or maybe something in between.
Likely enough she would soon find out.
The kilometres between the two of them and Portland were eaten away, though very slowly to her own mind, meaning that Jefferson and her family might be due for some kind of showdown. Any idea of speeding away from him was quickly dismissed; Darlene was not comfortable with fast driving and considered that to be a sure-fire way of getting in an accident. Somehow the right blend of wit and resilience needed to be achieved although, as far as she was aware, there is no manual for dealing with obsessed individuals.
Her parents’ drive came into view and Jefferson was still tailing her, showing no sign of turning off for an alternative destination.
Determined not to let him any closer to her house than she had to, Darlene employed the handbrake as soon as she was on the drive, so as to make sure his jeep could not follow her up to the house. It did not look like that was his intention, however, as rather than hang around challenging her to move or getting out of the car, Jefferson drove on by.
Something told her that was not the end of it and, even as she then put the car into gear and sped up to the garage with the hope of getting inside as quickly as possible, Darlene was aware the menace had proceeded to pull up just a short distance up the road.
Indeed, the swine did not even give her enough time to get to the front door. No sooner had she stepped out of the car when she heard his jeep door slamming shut and turned to see that he was heading up to the house on foot.
This was unbearable. She would have to burst into the house and tell her parents, without giving them heart attacks, that her unhinged ex-boyfriend was pursuing her up the drive and needed to be dealt with somehow.
But then things became even more imminent because her dad then emerged from the front to greet her. No doubt he was curious as to how Earl was doing but, before even being able to get past ‘Hello, Darlene…’ her dad was interrupted by the rudest and most absurd performance that had ever been witnessed about that quiet family home.
‘Mr Furse,’ came Jefferson’s whiny voice, though at a volume as if he was addressing an audience, ‘it is my duty to inform you that your daughter is a slut.’
‘What’s this?’ Clive Furse asked, a frown on his brow as his ears sought to adjust to the peculiar spectacle being performed across his lawn. Darlene open-mouthed and desperate for the right words to say that might bring this nightmare to an end.
‘I said she is a whore,’ Jefferson went on, ‘I declare I have seen her with a man. She is a strumpet; she is a sinner and she brings disgrace upon your family name.’
Oh, please say this isn’t happening, Darlene thought to herself, having no idea which way to turn for help.
For a good half an hour, Kurt had been kicking himself for not thinking more firmly on his feet and protecting his girl there and then. He spent far too long delaying his chase because he did not wish to alarm his dad that there was anything serious going on which, potentially, there was. Then, when he finally set out he managed to hit every red light on the way out of town.
Uncertainty breeds doubt and along the way he found himself asking all kinds of desperate questions as to whether Darlene was in trouble. Perhaps she had been chased off the road already and he had driven on by because, when clarity descended, he felt sure that this fruitcake Jefferson would have found a way to follow her. There is only one main freeway leading from Pacific City to Portland after all, so the guy would not have to be Einstein to relocate the girl he had called a ‘slut’.
They both had a head start on him, but Kurt was the type to put the pedal to the metal and, providing nothing had forced Darlene into making an alternative plan, he was determined to reach the Furse’s residence.