Wednesday, July 29, 2015
The Devil’s-double: Jolene ((1967) (a Donkeyland Undertaking))
Knowing God has not ordained this story, I must tell it anyhow, it shows the bad side of me, but I am content with that. I have written much in this book on deviance and passion, but little on trickery. And so I mean to tell one that I played on a woman named Jolene. I can’t blame the man who was married to her, whom was my good and best friend, Sid M., from Donkeyland, he had died a month prior after this story took place. Properly speaking, this should not be called a trick but a deserved scolding. The reason is this: Sid M., dies in a car accident, his wife, now separated but a few months, is dating another man and before this man other men, and she is wholly unassertive and unguarded about her chastity as with her life, and allowing it to be corrupted in the eyes of the world, shaming Sid, could she not wait until the finalization of the marriage, I tell Sid, where as he submits to still love her, in his own way pardons her from my judgment, and I even take it a step further, knowing she has his insurance policy in her name yet for $5000-dollars, and in 1967, that could buy a handsome new Cadillac. “The insurance policy will cancel itself out automatically in a month,” he tells me, “I’ll not make any new payments, but no sense in stopping it now,” faithful to the one he is still married to, and the divorce would be finalized shortly thereafter, but of course he dies before the policy is cancelled out and a divorce is granted.
Well, his wife was a pretty woman, short, dark skin, large breasts, and a fine figure to speak of, she attracted many men. Like the bad woman she was, felt glad when she got attention from the male gender. Well as I have made known in another short story, Sid up and died in a car accident, a week after we talked on this manner, as I have already expressed. And not to say she had anything to do with it, which surely she didn’t, she requested for the $5000-dollars at once. Matter of fact, a few days later, and sent chills up and down my spine.
The first thing I did was to confront her, and in a way to pacify her, attend the funeral, at a distance, saying to her—in the mist winter coldness—“We should go out sometime together?”
She took the hint, and shortly after we went out to a bar, we both got a little lit, and went to my apartment to make love; but it would be too conflicting, I spoke thus, “How can you do such a thing as to go to bed with me, I would gladly do so, had you not been Sid’s wife, and now his widow?”
She emptied herself out with tears, told me I was cold as a fish. And then, “Are we or are we not going to bed?” I said “Never in a thousand years would I sleep with you!” Then I told her to leave, and leave quickly I was heated up with anger. It was cold, it was late, and I was heartless, and thus the cunning lover did not enjoy the wickedness given her, and for me, it was no more corrupt than her deserving of a stake and fire.