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This is a four-part story. The next three parts will follow shortly. Early on you may wonder when I am going to get to the incest theme. Hang in – it’ll come along in future parts. The story within the story is italicized. All four parts are a product of my imagination. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Anne – Part 1
Andrew sat at his desk. The desk faced a pair of north facing, large French windows. He looked up from his desk to scan the frigid feel of the landscaped park outside his library windows. The elevated position of the house enabled him to see several kilometers in the clear air.
Winter had arrived early to the Northeast. The cold snap had frozen the small lake. A heavy dusting of snow, the first of the season, covered the rolling hills, glazed the tips of the fir and spruce trees and disguised the lake. Only the summerhouse that sat by the lake, with its bright Mondrian panels set into modernist architecture, gave a focus to the cool vista.
The envelope before him was the last piece of paper he had to deal with as the executor of his mother’s estate. He had spent the last two months dealing with numerous lawyers, accountants and bankers as well as fending off the remainder of his family – his cousins and their offspring.
His mother had accumulated a huge fortune and everyone wanted a part of it. Fortunately, the process proved to be fairly easy since his mother had spelled out the disposition of virtually everything in painstaking detail.
Her remarkable endurance as the head of the conglomerate up to the age of 92 had kept everyone on edge awaiting her departure. She only lasted two years after retiring, although the people who took over from her had doubts that she had really retired since she seemed to call all of them almost every day.
His appointment as the executor was challenged and very quickly disposed of by the courts because of the prestige that was associated with the family. Still, that still some took time. Fortunately he had time.
He was semi-retired quite young as Professor Emeritus – pushed out by the young bucks that had new ideas and technologies to explore. His seminal work on medical engineering was recognized worldwide, but the new Nano-technology that produced diagnostic robots smaller than the eye eventually shunted him aside.
Andrew looked at the envelope with his name written in the distinctive hand of his mother. It said “For Andrew’s eyes only. If Andrew is not alive to read the contents DESTROY this envelope and its contents immediately.” The flap was sealed with a red sealing-wax seal.
Andrew slit open the fat envelope with his paperknife and slid the stapled sheets of paper onto the desk. On the first page he saw the date: January 2015. He immediately remembered the summer and fall of 2014 with absolute clarity. It started him on his lifelong career and sealed his emotional fate. He started to read…
* * * * *
Anne screamed, threw off the duvet, fled into the en-suit bathroom, slammed the door shut and locked it.
Anne never would accept the idea that she was arachnophobic, after all she he had no problem using the flexible shower head to flush away the occasional spider that found its way into the bathtub. Yet the sight of two black, and quite sizeable, spiders on the ceiling immediately over her head as she awoke in her bed caused Anne to panic.
She had an instantaneous vision of them hitching their silk to the ceiling and descending upon her and wrapping her tight in their silk. It was a fanciful idea. Anne was not totally rational at that moment.
This was the fourth time she had seen the spiders. At first she thought she would be able to handle it the next time it happened and she had calmed down, but if anything her panic was getting worse each time.
Anne peeked into the bedroom after her heartbeat had slowed. The spiders had left. She returned to the bed lay on it and looked up. Nothing there. Anne realized she had to get help; otherwise she would have to move onto the small bed in the spare bedroom, which was principally set up as her office. That would be a pain, and she would miss her queen-sized bed.
Anne set up an appointment with her doctor. She had not seen him for about three years. She hated going to the doctor. She was fit and well, and had no need. The doctor was a man in his early sixties. Old school.
She was ushered into the consulting room on time. She hated the impersonal medical rooms with their benches with stirrups and drawers for who knows what. Anne’s eyes drifted over the blood pressure equipment, the medical drawings and the charts as she waited. Dr. Wilson arrived quickly.
“Miss Kelly. I don’t think I’ve seen you poker oyna for quite some time. Before you tell me what’s wrong let me just catch up for a moment.”
Dr. Wilson turned to the computer screen and hit some keys, leant forward and squinted at the information before him. He much preferred the paper files he could open and peruse, picking and choosing the information he needed to reacquaint himself with the patient.
Anne Kelly, age 44, single, teacher, entered and exited menopause by the time she was forty. ‘Early’ he thought. Vaginal dryness and some bleeding. Hormonal treatment, continuing.
No other problems. He glanced up at Anne. She was slim, and had a good colour. Nicely proportioned and rather pretty.
“Alright. What’s your problem?”
“Yes. I am afraid of them. Arachnophobia I believe it is called.”
Dr. Wilson thought to himself, ‘This makes a change from sniffles and constipation’.
“How has this come about? Give me some background.”
Anne explained about the spiders and her panic attacks.
“What had you eaten the evening before you went to bed? Did you eat in bed?”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
Dr. Wilson just gave a slight frown in response.
Anne continued, “Nothing special. What I usually have. I’m a vegetarian – almost vegan – by way of clarification.”
“No booze, if that’s what you are thinking. I may have a glass of wine a couple of times a month, but no more than that.”
“Tell me precisely what you feel when you have these attacks?”
Anne gave a clear moment-by-moment account of what she thought and felt. She was quite articulate and precise.
“I see. A panic attack.”
“What can I do?” Anne looked and felt sorry for herself.
“Do you exercise?”
“I run about 3 to 5 kilometers a week after school, two or three times a week.”
“Impressive. Very good.”
“Yes, mainly. I go to bed early and get at least eight hours,”
“Boyfriend. I see our records as show you as unmarried.”
“No. No one at the moment. Probably the last 5 or 6 years.”
“No. Don’t think about that much these days. Really I have no significant urges.” Anne added smiling, “There are a few actors who are quite cute though.”
“That’s normal enough. As a first course of action I would suggest you, or have someone in to do this, thoroughly clean the entire bedroom – include the drapes, carpets and be sure to attend to under the bed as well. See if you can remove the problem. If the cleaning does not work bring in a reputable extermination company. Explain what you are expecting – to get rid of the spiders. Let’s see if this works first.”
“Ok. I’ll do that. Makes sense. Thank you.” Anne rose shook hands and left.
Anne was well organized. She had a professional cleaning company in the following day, and sent the drapes out to be dry-cleaned. She slept in the spare room using a sleeping bag on the bed. Two days later having retrieved and rehung the curtains and blinds she returned to her own bed. The two first nights were fine and then the third morning the spiders were back – four of them.
Anne’s panic returned and she sat shivering on the closed lavatory seat in the en suite bathroom for a good half an hour before collecting herself together.
When she got to school, on her first break between classes she looked up and made contact with an exterminator to come over that evening.
The exterminator representative was a jolly man. He seemed to enjoy his job. The more he spoke and explained the process the less comfortable Anne became. She was worried that any living thing in her house would be killed, but worse she was concerned that a residual layer of chemicals would remain in the fabric of the house forever. The persistence of the residue was a selling point that prevented a return of any pests for at least two years, on which she would get a guarantee.
Anne was, or at least believed herself to be, sensitive to chemicals in general. She ate organic, and definitely no GMO, food. She used the mildest cleaning products wearing gloves. The very thought of the chemicals in her house sent shudders though Anne. She told the representative she would think about his proposal and get back to him if she decided to go ahead. She never called him back.
This left Anne in a quandary. What to do? After the last spider event Anne once more slept in the spare room. She returned to Dr. Wilson.
The good doctor was patient with Anne, and recommended she take a desensitization course, otherwise known as aversion therapy. Dr. Wilson took time to explain what was involved. Anne thought the cure was worse than canlı poker oyna the complaint. In any event it was unlikely she would be able to get an appointment for several months. The office would arrange it for Anne. Anne received a call the next day that an appointment was made for a date four months hence.
Anne was at the end of her tether. She spoke with her friend, and fellow teacher, after school. She was sympathetic, but quite straightforward. “You really are seeing these spiders? They’re are really there?”
Anne was mad at her and exploded, “Of course I saw them!! You think I’d make up something like that?” Her friend calmed Anne down.
“I’ve just had an idea. You know Jamie Jones?”
“Sure. Blond. Tall. He’s in my Grade 12 art class. He’s good actually, but his creative drawings are a bit spooky. Very bright. What I call an ‘Old Soul’. A good looking lad.”
“That’s him. Yes, very good-looking. Did you know he is also a budding entomologist? He’s going into Uni with a scholarship to study bugs.”
“Right. You may say ‘Ugh’ but he may be the solution to your problem. Don’t you see he may be able to come up with a solution, or catch the little critters for you? I know he has a well-respected collection of beetles already. I know spiders are different but not SO different. Wouldn’t be any harm to ask him what he thinks about removing the spiders. He may come up with an easy solution – he’s very bright.”
So it came about that Anne spoke to Jamie after she asked him to stay after her last class of the day.
“Jamie. This is nothing to do with your artwork, which is fine, by the way. OK? I have a problem you may be able to help me with. I have some spiders at my home that have become a nuisance.”
“Oh, Miss Kelly, I love spiders. They are great. My favourites are the big hairy ones – I have a tarantula as a pet.”
Anne shuddered. “That’s interesting.”
“None of the arachnid family in this area are poisonous, but Australia has a great bunch of really dangerous critters.” Jamie spoke with great enthusiasm. “So how can I help?” Anne noticed his eyes were shining. She had never seen him so animated and realized he was a very attractive young man. Anne then recalled seeing him at the local mall with Stacey, another of her students, holding hands. He had the same look about him then, she recalled.
“Well perhaps you can come over to my house after school or at the weekend and take a look where the spiders are to be seen, and maybe tell me how to remove them. Is that possible?”
“Of course. I can come over tomorrow night.” Jamie had always thought Miss Kelly was attractive. He heard of enough stories about teachers inviting students over to their houses, to be seduced that Jamie’s imagination ran away with itself for a few moments. His healthy self-confidence allowed him to conclude Miss Kelly was attractive enough for him to play along. But he’d have to be careful; he liked Stacey too much to upset her.
“Right. What time do you have supper?”
“I’ll pick you up at five and return you at six. OK? I have your address – Park Avenue, backing on to golf course – right.”
“Ok. Tomorrow at five at my home. I have to run now to get the bus. Bye.” Jamie took off for the bus with his imagination going full blast.
* * * * *
Anne picked up Jamie at the time arranged. Jamie was waiting at the gates at the end of a long driveway to his parents’ large house and jumped into the passenger seat.
“Hi Miss Kelly. Right on time I see.”
“Hi Jamie, I’m always on time. It’s a good habit to get into.” Anne then pitched straight in as she drove to her house. “I’m uncertain how we are going about this, Jamie. I’ll be upfront with you, but I would appreciate your absolute confidence in this matter.”
Jamie’s ears picked up at this and he had brief flush of excitement. Anne continued, “Will you keep this to yourself?”
“Of course, Miss Kelly, but I have no idea what I am keeping in confidence, as you put it. Anyway, we are all out of school in a week, and I don’t mix with many of my schoolmates in the holidays and then I m off to University. I have a job in my father’s office for the summer.” Jamie found himself beginning to ramble. “Yes. I will keep whatever goes on as confidential, promise.”
“Can I really trust you, Jamie?”
“Yes. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Anne smiled at the childish oath. She believed him.
When they arrived at Anne’s house Jamie was full of anticipation, and was excited.
“Jamie. I am scared shitless of spiders – excuse my language.”
“That’s it?” Jamie was bemused and could hardly get his mind around what he’d just ben told. He had expected so much more. He collected internet casino himself and followed up as best he could. “Oh. That must be awful. I love all bugs. Really love them. But I hate, and always feel sick, if I am given rice pudding. So you have a sort of rice pudding affect, I am guessing.”
“Its probably a bit more than rice pudding. My heart rate goes up and I literally panic. I am irrational for a while. I’ll show you what I do.”
Anne led Jamie up to her bedroom, which she had carefully tidied up. “When I wake in the morning and see spiders on the ceiling above me I go into full panic mode and blindly rush into the en suite bathroom and slam the door. Like this.”
Anne lay on the bed and playacted getting up in a panic rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Jamie almost laughed at the action, but his broad smile was not seen behind the closed door. Opening the door, Anne then continued, “I sit in there on the toilet lid until the panic subsides. Sometimes as long a thirty minutes. Peek out at the ceiling and if clear – it always has been up to now – before returning to room.”
Not knowing what to say, “You’re in your nighty?”
Still in simulated moment of panic Anne blurted, “No just my panties – ooops TMI.” Jamie blushed, as he thought of Miss Kelly topless in just panties.
Anne looked at he student in the eyes and asked, “What can I do Jamie? Now you see why I swore you to secrecy? Any ideas?”
All Jamie could think of was being around to see the panic attack. He mumbled, ” I’m not sure. Nothing occurs to me off the top. What colour were the spiders?”
“How large were they – how many by the way?”
Anne showed the size with the gap between her finger and thumb, “two, three or four.”
“I need to think about this, do some research and I’ll get back to you. It’s best if I saw them, though. Do they come out any other time?”
“Don’t think so. Since they started I do not come into this room very much.”
“That’s a pity – such a nice room. Perhaps I should go.” Jamie fantasy of seeing Miss Kelly run semi naked from the bed was returning and he was beginning to feel aroused.
Anne returned Jamie home a few minutes early. On the way home Anne started to have doubts about involving a student in her personal matters. She could think of a dozen reasons why Jamie may share her secret with others. She was annoyed with herself for the most part, but a small kernel of hope remained that he may come up with a solution to her phobia.
By the time Anne arrived home she was resigned to the fact she could not reverse the fact that Jamie did now know about her fear of spiders and talked herself back to her initial assessment that he would keep her confidence.
After the last class the next day Jamie entered her classroom as she packed her briefcase with some material to grade.
“Hi Miss Kelly.”
“Hello Jamie. Solved my problem already?” Anne replied cheerfully, but with an inner knot of anxiety in her stomach. What did he want?
“Well…” the usually confident Jamie stumbled over words. Anne just looked at him as neutrally as she could muster.
“Well, do you mind if we leave our project for a month or so?” The words now came tumbling out. “I have two ideas that I need to develop but with the finals coming up and Graduation and all the work you teachers have at the end of the year with grading and all that stuff I’m not sure I can get at it, But I do have these ideas though which I want to work on to help you.” Jamie failed to mention that one of his ideas was to find a way to see Miss Kelly jumping out of bed topless.
Anne felt a rush of affection to the handsome lad standing before her “Jamie. You are spot on. My ‘project’ as you call it takes a backseat to your doing well in the final exams. You are also right that all hell breaks loose at the end of the year for us teachers. You have made a wise choice, and applaud you for it. I should not have asked you so near to the end of term. When you are ready give me a call after graduation. I am around most of the summer.”
“Oh, thank you, Miss Kelly. I thought you might be mad at me. I really do have some ideas that will take some work. In fact they would have made a good project for the science fair. By the way, what music do you like?”
The latter comment intrigued Anne, but she did not pursue it. “I like classical mainly. Sibelius, Vivaldi, Dvorak, Vaughn Williams, Some Bach, Delius. Enough? Run along now. Call me when you are ready.” Anne gave Jamie her home number.
The school year ran its usual course. Anne moved into the spare bedroom to sleep, afraid to return to her bed. The dining room table was permanently covered with her books and student work for grading.
It always took a few weeks for Anne to settle after the end of the year. She went away to a spa for a week and felt much better for it. Anne increased the frequency of her running to five times a week.
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