I have always liked to walk at night. It is cooler and the world looks a lot less shabby and dirty when it is darker. I walked alone and my mind would drift into other worlds as I passed through this one making little impression… I thought.

This night began like any other. I left my apartment walking steadily at a little after 11 and had covered about a third of my regular route when a voice called out to me. It was about midnight and this section was probably the darkest. It was an older section of town. Not yet rundown but mostly occupied by older people and not as well kept as it once was. The frame houses were near the street and after 9 o’clock all the porch lights were out and the drapes pulled tightly closed. You seldom heard much. The people here were mostly old enough to be quiet and their kids grown and gone but not old enough to be going deaf and having the TV blaring.

Out of the dark a soft very female voice asked, “Are you going TOO something, running away from something or just looking for something?”

I stopped abruptly and looked around. The porch of the house I was in front of was dark as were the windows. I could see nothing. I answered the voice, “I don’t know for sure; probably some of all three. I guess the going too something would be the least.”

“Then why don’t you stop for a while and come up here on the porch sit with me? Maybe if you stop what you are looking for will come by and what you are running from will stop chasing you. If you aren’t going anywhere special then here should be as good as there.”

I looked close and saw that someone was sitting there. I focused and saw that there were a couple of chairs there. She patted the seat of the chair beside her. I walked up and even as I got closer she was no more visible. I held out my hand, “Terry Lourdes.”

A soft but firm hand reached and took mine, “Gail Asbury, Nice to finally make your acquaintance Terry. Please have a seat. I have watched you walk past every night for months. Finally I just had to know. You don’t walk with the arm swing of someone exercising. You also don’t just meander along like someone out for an evening stroll. You know, they have some pretty good drugs these days for depression.”

I was silent and wondered why she assumed that I was depressed. “Why do you think that I’m depressed?”

She laughed, it was light and ageless. “I ask because I know the walk and know the feelings. You walk to exhaust yourself and to make the depression fade a little with the fatigue. Then you can sleep for a little while and then start it again. You are awful young to be so far down that trail. Your life has barely started.”

“How do you know so much?”

“I sit here every night and watch you walk by. Occasionally a car will come by so I saw your face. The rest is just experience. How old are you Terry, 20, 21, not over 22?”

“You are pretty good! I’m 21. How about you, I can’t even see you enough to guess to the nearest 2 or 3 decades?”

She chuckled, “Don’t you know it isn’t polite to ask a lady her age? Does it matter really?”

Yes Ma’am, it does matter. Should I treat you like a peer or and older adult? I generally treat my elders with a little more respect.”

“OK, good answer. I’m older. Not old yet but I could nearly have a boy your age of my own.”

“Why do you sit out here at night instead of being in bed or in front of the box? My parents were asleep hours ago. I don’t live with them by the way. I’m not quite that big a loser.”

“I’m telling you Terry; you haven’t started the race yet so there is no way that you have already lost. Have you seen a shrink yet?”

“Not really, they are expensive and when I left my parents house and quit working for my Dad I came off the insurance. They don’t offer insurance where I work. They don’t offer anything except minimum wage and a hard time.”

“How long have you been depressed?”

“I guess it started when I was 18 or 19. I didn’t have the grades for a scholarship and there was no money for college so I went to work for my Dad. He runs a construction crew. It was the worst year of my life. He treated me like I was still a kid and would scream at me in front of everyone. One day I walked away, went home and packed my bags. He didn’t get the pleasure of throwing me out. Since then I have worked at every dead end no future job there is!”

“You are caught twix. I figured that.”

“What is TWIX?”

“Twix is what happens when a boy is stuck, not yet a man but no longer a boy. Your parents didn’t turn you loose enough while you were young and then threw you straight into being an adult without helping you transition. Your Dad wanted you to go out and act like a man and then treated you like a kid. Now you are Twix.”

“OK, what do I do… providing that is the problem how do I fix it?”

“Well time will do some of it but you may suffer irreparable harm before it does the deed. The only other answer is to have someone help you.”

“What kind of help?”

“You need to back up finish being a kid and then move into adulthood a little at a time.”

“Well that can’t happen. I have to grow up… hell I need to BE grown up now!”

“Are you open to suggestions or propositions?”

“Sure, things can’t be more messed up.”

“Well I have been thinking about this for some time. You see I have some rather special needs as do you. I have some resources that you could benefit from and you have some that I will benefit from. My problem is that I have health problems that sometimes make it hard for me to take care of my daily needs. I need someone that can help me. You need someone that can relieve you temporarily of the burden that is weighing you down and help you start again. I am a clinical psychologist and my PHD thesis was over this very problem. I also have some other rather unusual qualifications and personal preferences that will come into play.”

“What’s the matter with you? It’s not catching is it???”

She laughed, “No, no, I have a slight case of fibromyalgia and some days I am sort of slow and achy and the next I am fine. I just never know what it is going to be from day to day. Every once in a while it flares up and will be bad for a few days then it fades again. I am on a program that has helped a bunch. I am careful about what I eat and am on a regular cleansing regimen. You will help me with that. It is like RA, Rheumatoid Arthritis and is one hundred percent noncontiguous.”

“Cool, no problem.”

“May I ask you a few questions? They will help me better know what you need and what I have to offer.”

“Sure.”

“Ok, scoot your chair a little closer and let me have your hand.” She asked and then took my hand. “I’m going to ask you simple questions and I need you to answer yes or no as quickly as possible. Don’t hesitate or think about it just answer. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes Ma’am; I’ll try.” I assured her.

“Do you like Chocolate?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love your Mother?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like spinach?”

“No!”

“Have you ever stolen anything?”

“Yes… but it was only candy and I felt really bad about it and paid them back later.”

She laughed, “You don’t have to explain. We will talk after we are done. Have you ever been drunk?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love your Father?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Yes.”

“Did your Mother spank you?”

“Yes.”

“Did your Father spank you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like to drink sodas?”

“Yes.”

The questions went on far a long time there were only a few that actually caught my full attention or were embarrassing. They were in no real order, just as I remember them.

“Did your Mother give you enemas?”

I hesitated and then said. “Yes.”

Another one that I hesitated on was, “Does your Mother still give you enemas.”

I answered after a hesitation, “No… I don’t live with them anymore.”

“Did she spank you when you were older than 16?”

“Yes.”

“Did she give you enemas after you were 16?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“No.”

“Did your Father help or give you enemas?”

“No.”

“Have you ever had sex with another male?”

“NO!”

She would ask several meaningless questions and then drop one about sex, spankings, love or enemas on me. When she was done she patted my hand. “Very good Terry. Why don’t you come in and I will make you something cool to drink and we will talk.” She stood without ever releasing my hand and led me to the door.

I followed her in wondering what she would look like. It was dark inside but she turned on a lamp. My first look at her was almost shocking. I guess I had expected her to be maybe a little plain. I mean I’m not but ugly but then I don’t have great looking women that hardly know me or in this case, DON’T know me hitting on me. My first look at her wiped all of that away. She was beautiful!! She was fairly tall for a woman, 5’ 6” or a little more and was just build like the proverbial brick outhouse!!! She had long dark chestnut brown hair, Huge soft brown eyes that seemed to see right through me and full sensuous lips that just called out to me to be kissed. She looked to me to be around 30 but she had said that she could almost have a kid my age so she had to be older.

“Do you like Tea?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Sweet or unsweetened?” She asked.

“I am not particular. If it is plain that is how I usually drink it but I like it sweet sometimes too.”

“I tend to avoid white plain sugar so it will be unsweetened then.” She was wearing a long silky sort of dress or robe and while it covered her to below her knees, it couldn’t hide the fact that she was lovely in every way.