Strawberries

        The strawberry bushes were bright green, and the red fruits shone after a summer rain. The field went for half a mile, with a dozen long rows. At the end was a small shack with a tin roof where the fruit was cleaned and packaged. Outside, fliers and order forms were hanging on an old telephone pole with sixteen notches carved in it.

        Susie had spent the better part of two hours worrying about the evening. Last time she had worn a dark blue dress with just enough cleavage (enough to show your interest, not enough to make him think you’re easy, as one of her fashion magazines put it) and a pair of high heels. She’d been dieting for the last few months to fit back into it- her goal weight was 140, and she was almost there. Her father had told her on her last visit home that she was gaining weight, and while he was pleased that she was doing well in her schoolwork, it was important to take care of her physical health, too. “Besides,” he’d told her, “your professors are men, and men can’t help think about your looks when they judge you.”

        Tonight wasn’t about a professor, though. She was dressing for Jeremy, a science major she shared two classes with. She had picked out a simple pair of jean shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt, in hopes that the more modest appearance would lower his interest. “He’s just… not my type, I guess,” she had told Becky at lunch last week.

        “‘Type’ is a social construct devised by Western society to perpetuate the aristocracy.”

        “Thank you, Dr. Evans,” she said, laughing at the poor impression of the aged sociology professor.

        “Seriously, though, hun, you are too picky. Just because you’re a gamma doesn’t mean you can only date frat guys. You heard about the girl at Eastern-”

        “I know, I know, but trust me, they’re not like that here. Tom’s rough around the edges, but he keeps the guys in line. No one gets away with roofies or any of that crap. Sure, there’s sex and drugs, but it’s all voluntary.”

        Becky rolled her eyes and swallowed the last bite of her BLT. “Susie Q, I love you, but you can be dense about the social world. It’s about appearances, not facts. You turn up your nose at every nice guy who asks you out but spend lots of time with those frat boys and you get a reputation. People start saying you’re stuck up, bitchy even.”

        “Someone called me bitchy?” Becky looked down at her plate. “Who was it?”

        “I’m not gonna tell you that, sorry. Still, why not give Jeremy a second chance? Who knows, maybe you’ll like him. He seems decent enough.”

        “We just didn’t get along. Things… well, something happened last time.”

        “He didn’t hit you, did he?” Becky sat forward suddenly, looking her straight in the eyes.

        “No, no, nothing like that. Just…”

        “If you ask me, Oasis can take any band you name today. Hands down.” Susie hoped that was the end of Jeremy’s extended polemic on classic British rock. He wore a thick pair of glasses and a button up shirt that looked too big for him. Susie ate quietly, wondering if his soup was getting cold.

        “I guess,” she said, gingerly removing an onion from her dinner salad.

        “I hope you have enough to eat. I’m sorry we had to settle for diner food, but my tutoring check won’t clear for another couple days.”

        “It’s fine, I like Pete’s.”

        “Then…” Jeremy started to breathe faster as he looked her up and down. “I’m talking too much again, aren’t I?”

        “Maybe… just a little.”

        “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just want this night to be perfect for you. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for over a month, you’re so beautiful, and so smart, and I saw you doodling the Rolling Stones logo in your notes the other day- you doodle a lot in class, you know, it’s pretty good- so I thought since we like the same kind of music, we have something in common-”

        “Jeremy: it’s okay. You don’t need to worry so much. We’re out together now, so just enjoy it.”

        “Right.” He took a deep breath. “Right, I’m sorry. I’m just not that good at talking to girls. They usually don’t like guys like me.”

        “You’re doing fine. You just need a little more confidence. Calm down, don’t panic so much. I’m enjoying myself, and so are you, so don’t worry about it.”

        “All right. Thanks. What- um, what do you do for fun?”

        “Well, you caught me drawing already. I sometimes- geez, I’ve never told anyone this- I draw webcomics.”

        “Get out!” he shouted, causing a few heads to turn. “Sorry,” he said, turning red. “I read a ton of webcomics. What’s it called?”

        “Oh, no way you’ve heard of it. It’s called ‘Many Lives,’ it’s mostly just random crap from school or stuff about TV shows.”

        “It sounds great. I’ll have to look it up.”

        “No, no, please don’t, I’m not ready for people to see it. I mean, I’m okay with strangers seeing it, but I don’t want someone I know to read it. It’s more for practice that publication.”

        “Too late, I already know the name! I can help you with it, if you want. And in return, I could show you something, too.”

        “What’s that?”

        “My special place. There’s this strawberry field out in the country my uncle owns, I like to go there when I need to relax. Maybe after we’re done here-”

        “Susie, is that you?” The two of them looked at the door to see a tall, muscular guy wearing a Slayer tank top and a tattoo on his right arm.

        “Tom, hey, what’s up?” Susie got up and turned to him, giving him a quick hug.

“I tried to call you earlier, but you weren’t answering your phone. I’ve been looking for you.”

        “Well, I’ve been right here. Oh, this is Jeremy.”

        “Hi,” said Tom, extending his hand. Jeremy tensely shook it, and Tom returned to Susie. “I thought you told me you were coming by the frat house tonight?”

        “Did I say that? Oh crap, it’s Thursday, isn’t it?” She dramatically slapped her forehead. “Scatterbrained Susie strikes again! Sorry to worry you.”

        “It’s okay, I’m just glad you’re safe.” He stood quietly with her for a moment. “Oh, sorry, I should let you get back to your meal. Take care, Susie Q. Nice meeting you, Jeremy!” He walked out the restaurant and Susie sat back down.

        “You believe that jerk?”

        “Who, Tom?”

        “‘I was just worried about you.’” Jeremy deepened his voice in imitation of Tom.

        “What’s that mean? He’s a friend of mine.”

        “Bah! Please, he’s clearly just trying to get in your pants.”

        “Excuse me?”

        “Come on, you know guys like that only have one thing on their minds. Like you’d sleep with that creep.” Susie did not respond. “You… you didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

        “All right, back it up, Jeremy, you’re way over the line.”

        “Oh, my God, you did.”

        “It’s none of your business, thank you.”

        “You really gave it up to that dumb jock?”

        “He’s not a dumb jock; he got a B+ in Biz Calc last semester.”

        “Oh, he did well in Business math; well, call the leading research institutions, I’m sure they’ll want to offer him tenure right away.”

        “Okay, we’re done here.” Susie started to get up.

        “Right, go figure. You treat them nice, buy them food, show interest in their stuff, and they still run off with some jerk.” Susie looked at Jeremy, but he wasn’t looking back. It was like he was looking through her. His hand, still holding a soup spoon, was shaking involuntarily, and he bit his lip so hard blood started to trickle out. She left a ten-dollar bill on the table to cover her meal and walked out, keeping an eye on Jeremy the whole time.

        “Well, that’s somewhat less than pleasant,” said Becky. “But now you definitely have to go out with him.”

        “Say what?”

        “Think about it. If he starts telling people you slept with Tom but won’t give him a second chance, your reputation… well, you were already worried about coming off bitchy. Do you really want to be the stuck-up sorority girl everyone hates?”

        “What, you’re saying I let him blackmail me?”

        “Not blackmail, just a little interaction to grease the social wheels. Besides, you did kind of bring it on yourself. I mean, hugging another guy on a date? Telling him you slept with him?”

        “I didn’t bring that up; he asked me, which he never should have done.”

        “You couldn’t have lied?”

        “He just… right there at the end, he was just so creepy. Like… I don’t even know what he could have been thinking.”

        “You’re probably exaggerating. Too many of those crime shows you watch. Look, just go on one date with him, keep the peace, and if things still don’t go well, you can quietly break it off in a way that won’t embarrass him too much. You can’t mess with a guy’s dignity, though. Reputation’s a big deal for them, too.”

        And so it was that she was now putting the finishing touches on her make-up. The trick, of course, was getting it so that it looked good but still natural. Any minute the phone should ring, and she’d head down to meet him.

        “I’m so glad you gave me another chance,” said Jeremy, cutting through traffic at ten miles over the speed limit. “We’re gonna have a great time, I swear.”

        “Good, good.” She looked out the window at the bright, leafy trees and watched the sun setting.

        “Yes, ma’am, I’ve got something special to show you. Oh, I loved that webcomic of yours.”

        “I asked you not to look at that.”

        “I know, but I couldn’t resist. It’s really good. I kind of wish the guy had more to do, though- almost all the characters are women.”

        “Well, yeah, that was on purpose. There are plenty of comics with mostly guys, so I wanted to balance it a bit.”

        “I get that, but isn’t that just reverse sexism?”

        “I don’t think so; sexism is about cultural power, not just counting characters in a comic.”

        “No it’s not. Sexism means discriminating based on what gender people are. If you ask me, women actually have it easier today- you don’t have to fill out selective service forms or any of that.”

        Susie took a deep breath, and reminded herself not to mention her art projects in the future. “So, where are we going?”

        “Like I said, my uncle’s farm. He’s a nice guy, and he lets me hang out here when I like. All I have to do in return is make sure to water and fertilize the crops when necessary. He trusts me a lot, and it’s good to get away from the city and decompress. Here we go, exit 118.” They pulled off the interstate and drove a couple miles listening to the radio (Blue Oyster Cult was playing), then turned onto a dirt road.

        They drove on it for another mile or two until they saw a field on the left. The strawberry bushes were bright green, and the red fruits shone after a summer rain. The field went for half a mile, with a dozen long rows. At the end was a small shack with a tin roof where the fruit was cleaned and packaged. Outside, fliers and order forms were hanging on an old telephone pole with sixteen notches carved in it.

        “Here we are.” Jeremy opened the door and let Susie out. The air had a nice smell to it. She couldn’t place it, having lived in the city all her life, but it was probably a mix of the strawberries and wind coming off the mountains. Jeremy opened the trunk of his car and produced a wicker picnic basket. “I hope you have an appetite; I brought a lot of food. Sorry, but I’m a pretty good cook, and I couldn’t resist overpreparing.” He laid out a blanket and the two of them sat down, Jeremy splitting the food up. There were several French baguettes with what appeared to be home cooked roast beef and deli mustard. There was also a potato salad (she hated potato salad, but forced it down anyway) and a white wine she couldn’t pronounce. Plus, not surprisingly, a bowl of strawberries.

        “From here, I presume?”

        “Yes, I picked them yesterday. I thought about just picking them when we got here, but I wanted to make sure they were clean and pest-free.”

        “Well, it was very nice, Jeremy. You’re right, you are a pretty good cook. Is it hot to you?”

        “I don’t know, it is summer.”

        “Yeah, yeah, but just now… I think the breeze must be dying down.”

        “That’s probably it. Come on, let me show you inside.”

        “Um, okay.” She reached up to take his hand, and as she stood she felt suddenly light-headed. A wave of nausea overtook her. She had eaten too fast, and she forced herself to breathe deeply until her stomach calmed. No doubt Jeremy would take throwing up his food as a serious insult.

        He led her by the hand into the shack, catching her when she tripped on a root sticking out of the ground. “Oof, you’re so heavy!” He opened the door to the shack and led her in, flipping on a light switch. A dim bulb in the ceiling lit the small, dingy room. In the corner was a large bed with plastic sheets on it. She followed him and fell down on the bed.

        “You’re an odd little girl, Penny.”

        “My name’s Susie, you know that, Tom,” she muttered. She was starting to feel tired- the food was pretty heavy on her stomach.

        “It’s not Tom, darling, it’s Jeremy. But it’s okay, I forgive you for what you did with him.”

        “What’d I do?”

        “Why, giving it away like it’s nothing. Lucy, dear Lucy, you can’t be doing that. You know I was born with a jealous mind. It’s okay, though, it’s my turn now.”

        Susie’s eyes shot open. “Hold on, there, I didn’t agree to anything!” She sat up and immediately felt the nausea again, and was helplessly pushed back with one hand.

        “You need to relax, Pam. Nothing here is real- it’s like Vegas, you know?”

        “Nothing is going to happen here, Jeremy!”

        “Mm, I think I disagree.” She heard his pants unzipping and fought to sit up, but it was no use. Her head was swimming and her vision swirling. The last thing she saw before blacking out completely was a bloody meat cleaver on a table in the corner.

        “This year’s crop is turning out pretty good,” said Uncle Jack, looking over the strawberry field. “Yep, pretty damn good, I’d say. I knew I was right to trust you, Jeremy; tell your mother I said so.”

        “Thanks, Uncle Jack. Of course, you did most of the work.”

        “Bull. You helped me plant these, you water them, you fertilize them- when’s the last time you did that, by the way?”

        “Oh, just a couple of days ago.”

        “Odd, I don’t see any.”

        “That’s cause it’s from animal waste- you have to bury it, not just lay it out.”

        “How much does it take?”

        “Well, the last batch was just shy of one hundred fifty pounds.”

        “Nice job. I’ve never worked with that stuff, but if you say it works, I trust you. Of course, you shouldn’t be working all the time. A boy your age needs to have a social life.”

        “I have my hobbies, but you know girls don’t much care for guys like me. I’m not exactly Mister Popular, after all.”

        “Nonsense, my boy. It’s all about your attitude. You just have to be persistent- don’t take no for an answer.”

        “Will do, Uncle Jack.”

        Jack smiled. He was a good boy, after all, and he had done a job with this place. The strawberry bushes were bright green, and the red fruits shone after a summer rain. The field went for half a mile, with a dozen long rows. At the end was a small shack with a tin roof where the fruit was cleaned and packaged. Outside, fliers and order forms were hanging on an old telephone pole with seventeen notches carved in it.