For a good half an hour, Kurt had been kicking himself for not thinking more firmly on his feet and protecting his girl there and then. He spent far too long delaying his chase because he did not wish to alarm his dad that there was anything serious going on which, potentially, there was. Then, when he finally set out he managed to hit every red light on the way out of town.
Uncertainty breeds doubt and along the way he found himself asking all kinds of desperate questions as to whether Darlene was in trouble. Perhaps she had been chased off the road already and he had driven on by because, when clarity descended, he felt sure that this fruitcake Jefferson would have found a way to follow her. There is only one main freeway leading from Pacific City to Portland after all, so the guy would not have to be Einstein to relocate the girl he had called a ‘slut’.
They both had a head start on him, but Kurt was the type to put the pedal to the metal and, providing nothing had forced Darlene into making an alternative plan, he was determined to reach the Furse’s residence.
Maybe I should have bought a Porsche after all, he caught himself thinking, but fortunately he found that his vehicle served him well.
It must have been about a mile from the Furse’s house when he caught sight of a familiar looking jeep and – if he wasn’t very much mistaken – a silver Fiesta it appeared to be tailing. Unless it was a very uncanny coincidence, that was his girlfriend’s inherited company car being tailed by a foul-mouthed religious extremist with whom he had a bone to pick.
Kurt guessed a little what the swine must have been up to and held back a tad in order to assess what was his best move. If possible, he would have liked to ensure the gentle Furse family avoided any unhappy drama. That was not achievable, however, and Kurt arrived on the scene in time to hear Jefferson spouting out his self-righteous insults in the direction of Clive and his daughter.
A week or so earlier, Kurt had been considering a means by which to sneak up to Darlene’s bedroom window and it was a peculiar twist of fate that such preparation would return to benefit him now. Had he approached via the drive then Jefferson would have seen him and had plenty of room to flee, but seafarer’s legs don’t often make for sprinter’s legs and he did not want that.
Instead he took advantage of the line of finely pruned fir trees that Clive had been so kind to love and nurture to three times the height of a man. So, it was that he was able to approach a shouting and preaching Jefferson without being seen, until at the last minute when he came out of the shadows and challenged him.
‘What’s all this then?’ he asked, giving Jefferson the time to turn around and face him before planting a fist on the side of his temple.
Jefferson went down like a sack of spuds, immediately trying to get back up, but then falling straight down again as if the brain had taken a few seconds to realize how hard it had been shaken. Kurt had seen boxers knocked out in such a way before; trying to get back up and then falling down again. It was unclear whether Jefferson wanted to get back up to fight him or to run away, though it might just have been the panic at being hit that took him a while to decide to lie still and let the effects wear off.
Kurt felt slightly sorry for him then, in knowing he was the better built of the two – but not that much. Had he been prone to violence he could have hurt the man a lot worse and probably gotten away with it, considering Jefferson had been pursuing a young lady for over fifty kilometres.
Understandably then there was something like chaos on the Furse’s front lawn. Beatrice and even one of the neighbors both ran out to find out what was going on and everyone seemed to have a dozen questions each, that were being directed at no one in particular because it was not obvious who might have all the answers.
Most perturbed was Mr Clive Furse himself (unless you count Jefferson who remained sprawled on the ground), who was trying to take in his daughter’s assurances, deal with questions from Beatrice over what had happened, as well as figuring out why Kurt was there.
At some point clarity reached Kurt through the cacophony and he realized that this was his moment. If anyone could set matters straight it was him and, as it so happened, the chance was exactly what he had wanted.
You see, something unusual had been happening to Kurt over the last few weeks that, probably because he was unused to the notion, caused him a while to clue on to. For sure he was aware that Darlene was something special among his list of bedroom conquests, in that she was different and physically speaking the most desirable of anyone he had ever met. In a short time, he had grown attached to her to the point of not even asking himself the question of how long should this last. Usually he was in the habit of deciding that this or that girl should last for a night, a week or a month. That he had not come to address the question about Darlene had been explained away because it was such an enticing mission of discovery. There was so much more to accomplish and so why cut it short? Although it turned out there was a lot more to his feelings from which there was now no escaping.