Jean and the Great Beach Charade Ch. 04

Cathy murmured, "Mike, Jerry, I'm so happy to see you guys."

Mike said, "Same here but we warned you when we let you go the last time. I'm afraid you are under arrest, and this time, you won't get off so easy."

Cathy put her arms around Mike's neck and pressed her body against his. She gave him a deep kiss before asking, "What are you arresting me for this time, jaywalking?"

Mike shook his head and said, "It's not the middle of the night. This time, it's serious. There are a lot of witnesses, and we have photographs. You are under arrest for public indecency, public fornication, solicitation, sodomy, assaulting an officer and resisting arrest."

Cathy smirked and said, "Mike you are a poopy head. I know you just want to get me alone again."

Cathy turned her back to the cop and held her wrists behind her back. Mike immediately cuffed her.

My wife squealed and said, "Not so tight, Mike."

I tried to follow, but the crowd got in the way. The last I saw my naked wife; the cops were walking her toward the parking lot.

Wally put his arm around my shoulders and said, "I'm really sorry man."

I said, "If they convict her, she'll lose her license to practice law. That would be the end of her career."

Wally half-heartedly tried to calm my fears, "I think they are just trying to up the fine."

"More likely, they'll lock her up for a year."

Wally shook his head, "That wouldn't be cool. I doubt they want to spend the money to keep her in jail. Let's go call the police station and find out the fine."

It was after five by the time we reached the hotel. I called the Fort Walton Beach police station and asked about my wife. The desk sergeant had to yell over the turmoil in the station. He said it was too late to process her today if she had just been arrested. He told me to call back tomorrow. I spent the evening ranting to the engineers.

"Why did you take her for a walk along the beach naked?"

James said, "It was Cathy's idea. She wouldn't take no for an answer. I tried to talk her out of it, but she refused to listen. She said she was going out for a walk one way or the other."

I was too distraught to cook, and Wally ordered pizza. I awoke early on Wednesday morning and called the station at 8 AM. They told me to call back later. The jail was packed with college students they had arrested the previous day, and the backlog would take some time to process. I called back every hour and got the same message. Just after noon, I was informed that they had processed everyone, and there was no one under the name Cathy Miller. I realized she was smart enough not to give a false name to the police. I asked if they had a Jean Williams.

The desk sergeant laughed, "Oh, you mean the naked girl. Yeah, she's here. The court is pretty backed up, so she's scheduled to go before the judge tomorrow morning. It could be anytime between 9 AM and noon."

I groaned when I heard that my wife was famous even amongst a large number of disorderly college students. I had no choice. Unless she used her one call to reach me at the hotel, I was stuck until tomorrow.

The engineers tried to get me to join them for dinner at the Crab Shack, but I preferred to stay in my hotel room and brood. Sometime after midnight, I heard a lot of noise from the engineer's hotel room. Evidently, they were now famous amongst the Alabama college students and had used their fame to pick up girls. I found my earplugs and tried to sleep.

Thursday morning, I was at the courthouse early. I checked with the clerk, and my wife's name was not on the docket for the morning. He told me to check back before the afternoon session. I went back to the hotel and called the desk sergeant again. He told me that the court calendar was overcrowded, and the earliest she would appear in court was in the afternoon.

I got the same runaround in the afternoon. I drove to the jail and asked to see my wife. I was politely informed that they didn't allow visitors before arrangement. The only person she could see was a lawyer, and she hadn't requested one. I asked the desk sergeant to give her a note. I told her I would get her a lawyer.

I saw Mike and Jerry, the cops who had arrested my wife. I went over to talk to them.

"Do you guys know how my wife is doing?"

Mike smiled and said, "Last time I saw her, she had a grin from ear to ear. She's been very cooperative. I think we should give her an award for good behavior."

"I don't understand."

Jerry laughed and slapped Mike on the back, "Jean started by helping the police cadets practice stop and frisk procedures. The instructor used her to train them in arrest practices and prisoner transportation. We used Jean's real arrest record as the training exercise. Don't worry. She wasn't naked. We gave her a tee shirt to wear. We let each cadet pat her down, arrest her, read her rights, walk her to the interrogation room, take her statement and do a full cavity search while the instructor and other students watched. After a couple of times through the lesson, the cadets were performing the tasks better. Some of the older cops asked to do a refresher course. She is a real trooper and smiled the whole time."

I went back to the hotel and called every lawyer in the phone book. I never reached any of them. Their secretaries informed me that they were overwhelmed with cases involving the college students. I expressed my despair to the last person I called. She was a legal secretary, and she had had experience with handling cases for college students getting too enthusiastic during their Spring Breaks. She asked me a few questions. She whistled when I told her what the police had arrested her for.

She said, "They'll hit her with a big fine -- maybe five or six hundred dollars. Don't worry there won't be any record. She'll get to plead to some minor offense if you pay the fine."

I went back to the police station and found a different man behind the desk. I asked the desk sergeant to give my wife another note. I told her not to worry. I went back to the hotel and had another miserable night. The engineers had another party. I was so glad my wife had made them famous. I wanted to kick their sorry asses.

Friday morning, the clerk told me she was on the docket for the afternoon. The judge was doing his best to clear the cases, but it was possible she would have to wait until Monday. I was relieved when my wife was led into the courtroom just after four in the afternoon. She was shackled hand and foot and was dressed in a baggy orange jumpsuit. The judge was an older woman. It was hard to miss the large gold crucifix around her neck.

The judge looked at the charge sheet before glaring at my wife. The judge said, "Jean Williams, Easter is a sacred time for good Christians. Sadly, every year, I am shocked to find college students profaning their Lord's resurrection. I have presided over cases involving nearly every type of immoral behavior, but your depraved acts on our public beach exceed anything I have ever encountered. Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed for committing the same disgusting transgressions you did. If it were up to me, I would lock you away for five years without parole. Unfortunately, we would have to pay to incarcerate you, and I won't do that to the God-fearing citizens of this town. I'm sure they would prefer that I banish you back to that wicked place you call home. There's a note in your file saying you cooperated with the police while in jail. So, I am willing to reduce the charges to jaywalking if you pay a fine and agree never to return to Fort Walton Beach. How do you plead?"

My wife looked at the floor and said, "Guilty, your honor."

The judge said, "I fine you $500 plus $100 a day for the expenses of incarcerating your sorry being. You will remain in jail until your fine is paid."

She smacked her gavel down and said, "Next case."

I was relieved that the clerk accepted my credit card for the $900 fine. It was steep for a jaywalking charge, and I was sure the God-fearing judge was just using the arrest to extort as much money as possible. Still, I couldn't argue that my wife was guilty of far more than jaywalking. The clerk gave me a receipt, and I walked across the street to free my wife from jail. Unfortunately, they wanted to keep the orange jumpsuit, and I had not thought to bring clothes. The desk sergeant said I had thirty minutes to pick her up, or she would have to stay until Monday. I would never make it to the hotel and back in time. My wife solved the problem by peeling off the jail clothing. Underneath she was wearing only a large tee shirt with the logo of the Policemen's Benevolent Association. I didn't ask how she got the tee shirt that barely covered her ass.

My wife was silent on our drive back to the hotel and refused to meet my gaze. I had leftover pizza in the refrigerator, and she made an effort eat a slice. She stared at her plate and said she hadn't slept much in jail. She took a long hot shower and went to bed before 7 PM. I wasn't in any better shape and turned in early as well. Sometime after midnight, the engineers returned to their hotel room with another batch of girls. I cannot say I was happy my wife had trained them so well they were now very popular with the ladies. My wife never woke up, but I spent a couple of hours staring at the ceiling. I relived the events of the week over and over and tried to comprehend what the future held.

Saturday morning, I got up at six and packed our bags. I called room service and had breakfast delivered. I let my wife sleep as long as I could so I wouldn't have to talk to her. We drove to the airport and turned in the rental car. By 10 AM we were on our way to San Francisco. We had to change planes in Atlanta. My wife was still not talking to me. She was playing music on her Sony Discman and ignoring me. She slept or pretended to sleep most of the ways cross country.

She was sleeping on my shoulder when she began whimpering. "Oh God, Brent, I love your cock. Fuck me forever. Fuck me anytime you want."

I cried as I listened to my wife confess her love for Brent's cock. I knew it was now an unattainable fantasy for her, but it still drove a dagger into my chest.

An hour before landing in California, I put her ABBA album in the Discman. I selected the song 'S.O.S.'

Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find
I tried to reach for you, but you have closed your mind
Whatever happened to our love?

The song got her attention, and she looked at me with the hint of a tear in her eye. Her lip was trembling as she watched me silently select another ABBA hit 'Take a Chance on Me.'

If you change your mind, I'm the first in line
Honey I'm still free
Take a chance on me
If you need me, let me know, gonna be around

I'd played this song for my wife when we were first dating, and she was trying to choose between her bartender boyfriend and me. She had alternated weekends with us for nearly four months. I had never pursued a woman before, but I knew that Jean was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life. I cooked her favorite meal and played 'Take a Chance on Me' after desert. I got down on my knees and asked her to marry me. She had said yes. Since that happy day, we've put six years of hard work into our marriage. I had no intention of giving up easily. My wife cried on my chest the rest of the flight.

I said, "Jean, I love you. I'm not going to let you go."

I doubt my wife realized that I had just thrown our wager. Our bet was to maintain the Cathy charade for our whole vacation until we landed in San Francisco. I wanted to bury the whole damn Cathy charade in Florida.

It was late when we arrived home. I got some Chinese takeout for us, and we went to bed.

Sunday morning, I awoke to find my wife packing. My throat tightened, and I asked, "What are you doing, Jean?"

"I think it will be easier if I move out while we wait for the divorce to go through."

I swallowed and said, "Jean, I hoped you would give our marriage another chance? I know we can make this work."

"I thought about it all night. I fucked up, and now I'm sure I'm pregnant with Brent's child. I broke our marriage vows over and over. If I stay, I'll have to face the reproach in your eyes every day for the rest of my life."

I walked up to my wife and lifted her chin. I stared into her eyes and said, "Jean, do you love me?"

Jean sighed and whispered, "I'll always love you, but it doesn't matter. After I let Brent fuck me, I fucked everyone in sight. I even promised to be Brent's slut and begged for his baby. I know I'll never see him again, but I'm still a terrible person. I did a lot of horrible, unforgivable things to our marriage. I'm sorry, but it cannot be fixed."

I took my wife into my arms and hugged her tight. I felt her tremble, and her tears wet my shoulder.

I said, "I can't let you go, sweetheart. I'm as much to blame as you are. I forced you to dance with Brent, and I could have stopped him before it was too late. We are in this marriage together. We don't know if you are pregnant, but if you are, I want our first child to be raised in a loving home. Please, Jean."

Jean raised her head and looked at me through teary eyes. She gave me a kiss on my cheek before turning and walking out the door pulling a suitcase behind her.