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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet #130, 1609

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Tyler sat in the counselor's office tapping his foot up and down nervously as he waited for Jack Adams to offer his usual admonitions. He just didn't understand, didn't grasp the fact that Tyler's dad had flipped out entirely the night before. First he injured himself, purposefully. Then he ended up in the hospital after having it out with this Vince guy. His dad. Mr. non-violent, let's- deal-with-this-reasonably, what-will-your-mother-say Todd Manning. Tyler sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. His stomach jumped, remembering. His father raped someone in college.

No. Refuse to believe it. I'm sure the girl asked for it, he thought. Whoa. Taylor'd kill him if she heard him say THAT out loud.

"Mr. Manning. I'm surprised to see you in my office again. So soon since our last meeting. What happened today with your science teacher?"

"Aw, he said I was cheating on my test and...and...and I WASN'T!!"

His outburst got no reaction from Mr. Adams, who only stared blankly at the boy. Still tapping away. "Really?"

"Mr. Adams! Come on! That idiot teacher is just plain wrong..."

"Tyler. Talk to me. This isn't like you....well, I should say, cheating isn't your style. I know that. But your teacher indicated to me...Tyler, you had answers on a tiny piece of paper...that you dropped..."

"That's a lie!"

"...in your handwriting..."

This time it was Tyler's turn to be silenced. He looked down. The truth was he did cheat. There had been no time the previous day to study and after last night, well, it was impossible to focus. He glanced out the door and took a double take when he saw his sister waiting in the chairs for the girls' counselor. Looking up at him, her eyes were red and puffy, and she immediately looked away.

Damn him, Tyler thought. This is all dad's fault. All dramatic and shit. Doesn't he ever think about us? He thought the thoughts but knew his father was anything but selfish. He swallowed a bitter taste down.

"Well, Mr. Manning. What do you have to say for yourself? Will you share with me what's going on? Is...everything all right at home?"

Tyler looked up again and saw that his sister was gone. Most likely she was finally called into the counselor's office. "Everything's fine. Peachy. Fit as a...f-fiddle!"

"Well. All right then. You will be receiving an automatic failure grade on your exam and plan on spending next Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday in after-school detention."

"Aw, man..."

"I will also have to talk with your parents. We take cheating very seriously here at Llanview High School."

"Oh come on....that's the last thing they need...aw, man..."

"Well, perhaps if you'd offer some defense to this I might consider leniency...especially considering this is your first offense." Mr. Adams looked patiently at Tyler. He always liked him, always appreciated his sense of humor and liveliness. The essence of care-free youth. Which was ironic, considering his background. Considering who his father was.

The counselor was greeted by sad eyes accompanied by a soft voice, "I don't know..."

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Taylor sat in Ms. Janice Rogin's office, still crying about her lost book report, far too harsh a reaction considering it wasn't even worth a full grade. Moreover, it was easily made up. Her English teacher sent her from the classroom not able to lecture any longer with the uncontrollable sniffles traveling across the room. Taylor kept rubbing her eyes, rubbing the tears away yet they kept coming. Persistent little creatures. As if they had a life all their own.

Poor daddy. The reality was she couldn't shake the image of him falling apart. It was as if her whole world was collapsing around her in an earthquake of devastating proportion.

"Taylor, honey, it's only a book report!"

"But it was a really good report! I'll never be able to write it that way again! Don't you see?!" A whole new wave of tears flowed out.

Ms. Rogin raised herself a little off her chair and handed her a tissue. "Here," she said. "Blow."

She listened to the girl blow her nose wetly and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry Ms. Rogin. My heart is just...broken."

"Over a book report?"

"Well, yes...well...not really. It's more than that, I guess. Things...at home..."

"Ahh. Why don't you tell me what happened?" The counselor's glasses were small and her eyes looked at Taylor above the lenses. Like a librarian or a doctor. She has such kind eyes, Taylor thought. I bet you're dad isn't a...isn't...I bet not, she thought to herself. I bet not.

Taylor looked back at the kind woman offering to listen but Taylor just couldn't open up about it. Not today. Not until her dad talked to her himself. She didn't want to throw around false accusations. Untruths. Defenseless claims. "I'm sorry Ms. Rogin. I just can't really talk about it right now. It wouldn't be fair."

"You know I wouldn't be sharing with anyone what's bothering you."

"Oh I know. It's just really hard to explain." She only offered a raised shoulder, a half-shrug. "I'm sure I'll be all right. I'm sure everything going to turn out fine. I just...know it!" A swell of pain arose but she swallowed it back.

"All right, Taylor. I can't force you to talk. Do you need to lay down a while in the nurse's office? Or perhaps you can stay in the library the remainder of the hour until school's out."

"Ok. I'll go to the library."

Ms. Rogin reached into a bottom drawer of her small wooden desk and pulled out a composition notebook. A small one. "Here. Write out what your concerns are. It's a wonderful way to let out pain."

"Thanks. I'll do that. I promise I will." She smiled weakly and picked up her book bag, heading out the door with her head down. She turned back, "Sorry for making such a fuss in class."

"Don't worry about it, Taylor. You go write in that journal and know that I'll be here if you decide to talk about what's bothering you." She winked at the young lady in the door who turned back around and left.

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"‘My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; / Coral is far more red than her lips' red; / If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; / If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, / But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight / Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.' What are we getting at here? What kind of love song is this - insulting the object of the speaker? Malcum?"

"I think basically, ole Bill here is describing one butt-ugly woman!" The entire class burst out laughing in the middle of Ms. Gray's eleventh grade English class, wrecking her heartfelt reading of William Shakespeare's Sonnet Number 130. She breathed out a resigned breath, her pretty face holding back a smile as she waited for the kids to recover. Trevor heard the poem and the joke but didn't react, his eyes studying a pen mark on one of his fingers. Trying to clean it off by scraping it with his fingernail against his skin.

"Trevor, what do you think?"

He continued to work at the mark, almost there. Almost gone.

"Trevor Manning? Yoo-hoo! Earth to Trevor!"

He looked up suddenly, noticing that the class was quiet and most eyes were on him. Amy's especially. She looked worried, biting on her lip, her hand supporting her chin as she was turning in her desk to study him.

"Uh...I don't know...um...uh..." Trevor sat up and glanced to his side to see what page Jason Carmine's book was open to, to see where he should be. He flipped a couple of pages and realized it was hopeless. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about," he finally conceded.

"Ok, Trevor. I'll get you next time." she said, winking. Just at that moment, the bell rang signifying the end of a very long day for the Manning children.

Ms. Gray yelled above the fuss of the kids as they prepared to leave, "All right class! For Monday, I want a five-paragraph essay on the meaning of Shakespeare's Sonnet 130! No research necessary! Gut instincts!" The kids in the class jumped up and grabbed their books, the shuffling and talking brought to a new level. The door kept opening and shutting with each exit, hallway sounds rushing in at each re-opening. Trevor sighed heavily and slowly gathered his papers, shoving them into his backpack. Amy decided to wait in the hallway, to wait for him.

The teacher walked up to him, seeing that he was now battling with the backpack's stuck zipper. "Damn it," he muttered.

"Need some help, Trev?"

"Nah. I think I got it." Zip.

Ms. Gray smiled at him, "You sure did. What happened today? Tired from the week?"

"Just a lot on my mind. Sorry about missing out on your...poetry."

"It's all right. Did you catch the homework assignment?"

"Yeah. The essay on ‘Sonnet 130'."

"Exactly. See you Monday." Trevor hoisted his backpack on one shoulder only and walked out the door, his head a little down, his face serious.

Amy popped in front of him, squinting her eyes at him, "Hey there! Still upset about yesterday, Mister?"

"Mmm." He shrugged his shoulder, looking at his sweet Amy, his eyes softening the longer they stood there. She has such silky hair, he thought, wanting to run his hands through those dark curls. Mmm. Bury his face in them. Mmm. He scrunched up his face and looked away. His wanting to be close to her didn't take away the thoughts of his father injuring himself, nor the knowledge that he raped someone. A rape. The assault on Trevor's own mother. And now an attack on Vince. Violence. Impossible, not dad.

He looked back at her concerned eyes and said, "Everything...all right with your dad? He really hates me."

She looked around, as if making sure nobody could hear her. "Screw him."

"Amy! I hate to tell you, but you sound pretty goofy cursing." He chuckled, remembering again. She just couldn't take away the sick feeling in his stomach, today. "I'm sorry about breaking down yesterday. I...don't normally do that....I feel kind of stupid."

She reached up and touched his face, her fingertips caressing his cheek, then lips. "Oh no..please don't say that, Trev. I was so glad that I could be there for you. That I could...hold you."

"Aw Amy..." He leaned in close to her and placed his mouth lightly on hers. Feeling her lips soft and tasty, he kissed her again. Backing up, he sighed. "Let's go. I gotta get outta here. Tail and Ty are probably out front."

"Yeah - I'll come with you."

"Can you believe I have homework this weekend?" Trevor commented as the two started to make their way down the hall, hand in hand.

"I'm sorry - you probably won't be in any kind of mood to study..."

"It's worse than that; it's an essay on a poem..."

"Dang."

They walked slowly, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. The school was now a little quieter, a little emptier. Their hearts, though, fuller.

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"I just don't understand...how you could you let him get to you?" Tea asked as she stirred a splash of milk into the coffee for her husband, who sat quietly at the kitchen table, leaning his head on his hand. She had only just returned from Viki's place after dropping off little Terri. For an afternoon with her aunt, for an afternoon of peacefulness.

The afternoon had not brought any peace to Todd, however, nursing a mild concussion and a cut on his eye. That bastard, he thought, the term directed at a number of targets rather than just one. When Todd finally confronted Vince the previous night, Vince had blind-sighted him, punching him hard, cutting him. Todd was sent crashing to the floor, hitting his head against a table. When he stood up and faced Vince down, it was not as the mature man, the successful newspaper magnate, the family man; it was as the "old" Todd, the one from twenty years ago, a raging, angry man. He would not soon forget Vince's fear-filled eyes as he bore down on him.

Within moments, he proceeded to pummel Vince for setting him up, to beat the man who stirred up his demons, his past. As he felt the flesh of the man beneath his fist, as he heard his own growling voice, he had forgotten who he had become. He had been essentially transported to a time many years previous when he could not control his fury, when revenge was as near to his heart as the blood that coursed through it.

It was Bo Buchanan who had finally managed to pull him away from the broken man; Bo who spoken into Todd's ear, reminding him that his daughter Starr was in the room, that he had a family to go home to. It was Bo who finally broke through the blinding anger and settled him. Firmly. Just like old times.

Todd took a sip of the hot coffee and watched his beautiful wife fuss about the kitchen, chastising him, he relishing those few strands of grey hair peeking through, those few wrinkles on her near- perfect face. Markings she lightly complained about just to get him to contradict her. Those aren't wrinkles, Delgado, those are "love" lines. Good one, Manning. And yours aren't wrinkles either, they are "experience" lines. Very funny, Delgado, very funny.

He knew it was her concern talking, her fear. His behavior had awakened her insecurities about him, long thought dead by her. And by him, too, truth be told.

Starr had come home the night before, the strong young lady, accompanying her father back from the hospital. Not wavering, not revealing anything of what she felt. It was in her eyes, however. She looked at Tea and then away. Giving her dad a kiss, she disappeared into her room. Tea turned to Todd, who could not look back at her. I just wanna sleep, he said. God, let me sleep.

"The kids are going to be home any minute, querido. Are you prepared to tell them about the rape? The rapes. Everything?"

"No," he said sharply. "I've had enough talking, showing. They don't need to know anything else. Let them use their imagination."

"Todd, they're too old. This morning, you didn't see their faces...you didn't see-"

"SHUT UP!" he yelled, pounding his fist on the table. " Don't tell me any more! I don't need this!" After a moment, he closed his eyes and mumbled out an apology. "Tea," he said, looking up at his wife. "I don't want to relive it, especially with their faces looking at me...don't you understand?"

"I do," she said coldly. "But it's time. I know you've dreaded this. I know that." She came close to him, pulling a chair, so she could look into his despairing eyes. So familiar. "You got through telling Starr, why is it different now? What are you so afraid of?"

"Starr was different. She...saw things, she had an inkling about me. She heard things her whole life from Blair, Dorian. Now...your...babies...your ‘ninos'...we've protected them. I've protected them. They came after the anger...after the rage. They are innocent."

Tea breathed in deeply and stroked his cheek, kissing his lips, rubbing her face against his. "We have no choice anymore," she said. "Brady Buchanan is going to make sure these children hear it. It needs to come from you."

Just at that moment they heard the front door, click and slam shut. They heard the bustle of backpacks being thrown to the floor, whispers and shushes. Todd and Tea both turned to the doorway of the kitchen and there they saw their three angels, awaiting them. Awaiting desperate relief for their shaken world.

I love to hear her speak.

TO BE CONTINUED…

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: Copyright by DimWitt 1999. Published on "Dim's Fairytaleland and Other Stories." Copyright owner provides the information on this server to anyone but retains copyright on all text. This means that you may not: Distribute the text to others without the EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION of the copyright owner. You may: print copies of the information for your own personal use, store the files on your own computer for your own personal use, reference hypertext documents on this server for your own personal use.

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