The Labyrinth Walk

Warning-mature themes

I never expected to see her here, Lance thought, then chided himself for judging Jamie Fentress on her past.

“Officer Strubhart!”

The tall, husky man in black sweats and sneakers smiled, waved a hand, and said, “I’m retired. Call me Lance.” He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, feeling a little awkward knowing that Jamie was unaware he knew her secret.

Jamie, equally casual in a blue-gray jumpsuit and sandals, looked different from what he remembered, with her blonde hair in a pixie cut. She lowered her voice as they stepped away from the people sitting on folding chairs, waiting to walk. A huge canvas labyrinth had been spread out on the floor of the church sanctuary. “I’ll call you Lance then, thanks. A friend of mine comes here and walks the labyrinth. I never knew they had a labyrinth walk here until he told me about it.”

As they went out into the hallway, Lance looked around at the walls covered with photographs. The Unitarian Universalist congregation at this building enjoyed putting the fun in fundraisers. He noticed several posters listing information on the world’s major religions. Lance said, “I find walking the labyrinth very soothing. My stepdaughter suggested it.”

“Stepdaughter?” Jamie raised her eyebrows. “You have a family? I remember you being married to your job.”

He nodded. “My life has changed. I teach self-defense classes. I live with my partner, who is the love of my life. My stepdaughter and her partner live with us too. I never thought I had the time for a family, with my job being so demanding.” He grinned. “My partner is a wonderful woman. I’m so proud to be with her. My stepdaughter and her partner are both amazing.”

“Would you walk the labyrinth with me? Arvin started walking early, while I was still in the bathroom. He’s probably zipped right through the walk and is now outside getting some alone time, checking his phone. He works at a health food store, worked overtime today.”

Lance asked Jamie to walk in front of him. “I wander the path at my leisure.”

“You, as a policeman, probably never got to do anything at your leisure while you were still working,” Jamie said, her blue eyes sparkling.

Lance hadn’t forgotten that sparkle. She glowed with happiness as she told him she managed a spa. “We have professionals who provide facials and therapeutic massages. I love the salt cave therapy with pink Himalayan salt. Pink is my favorite color.”

Lance remembered the pink streaks she used to have in her shoulder length hair.

They went back inside the sanctuary, waiting in silence for several minutes before it was their turn. Instead of having deep philosophical thoughts while walking the labyrinth, Jamie kept thinking about her interracial relationship with her younger lover.

Like last night, when Arvin had texted her while standing in the hallway outside her apartment. Jamie decided it would be rude to make him wait, and let him in. She had already changed into her comfy yellow cotton nightshirt and put cream on her face.

Arvin asked her to take the night cream off. “Let’s make love without that. If you’re in the mood.”

“Do you really look at my face that much?” she teased.

“I leave the light on so I can watch you enjoy yourself!”

She giggled, then went into her bathroom to wash her face.

Jamie mused, “I wonder what my mother would say if she could see me going out with a Black man.”

“Being an interracial couple is not against the law. Nor prohibited in the Bible,” Arvin said. “Premarital sex is frowned upon by strict conservatives. But that’s impractical.”

The 6'3", 300-pound teddy bear wrapped his arms around her and murmured, “Ladies first.”

Jamie and Arvin had met three months before in a comedy class. The instructor randomly assigned them a skit together, wanting them to improvise a scene of a blind date. Two people meeting for the first time at a restaurant, who’d never communicated before, set up by mutual friends. “Questions Only” was the game.

Jamie and Arvin exchanged glances, having said only hello to each other in the few weeks they had been in the twice weekly class. They sat down at the table together. Jamie was worried that she would not be able to think of any questions, but the questions seemed to flow from her without effort.

Jamie: “Do you come here often?”

Arvin: “Have you never been here before?”

Jamie: “Don’t you know I’m not from around here?”

Arvin: “Didn’t they tell you I’m from Florida?”

Jamie: “Didn’t they tell you I’m from Florence, Italy?”

Arvin: “Did you know Florence can be a man’s name?”

Then she blurted out: “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”

Arvin: “Don’t you know you should use tu and toi for that kind of question?”

Most of their classmates were laughing, a few looked shocked. The instructor ended their game. After the eight-week course was over, Arvin and Jamie had gone out with the rest of the class for drinks and then the two of them ended up back at her apartment.

After the walk, Jamie and Lance met up outside the church with a good-looking Black man in his mid-twenties, wearing jeans, slides, and a tan plaid flannel shirt. Jamie introduced him to Lance as her friend Arvin Platt. Just then a red-faced, gray-haired man in his early sixties, in a navy suit and shiny wingtips, strode up to them. The man glared at Jamie. “Who are these people?”

Jamie turned to Lance. “This is my father, Wilson Fentress.” She introduced Lance as a now retired police officer who’d fallen into conversation with her in front of the police station many years ago. At the time, Jamie had needed a new, better-paying job. Lance had helped her get an office job with his brother, who ran a security firm. Jamie didn’t mention the reason she’d needed a job. Because, when she was seventeen, her father had disowned her for refusing to marry a friend of his from their church.

“I've started teaching self-defense, “Lance added. “And spend time with my family--my girlfriend and stepdaughter.”

Wilson stared at Arvin. “Who’s this?”

“Arvin Platt. We care for each other, have fun together, show each other affection just for the sake of affection. We’re not necessarily on the relationship escalator.”

“In my day, we had another term for that,” Wilson muttered.

“I’ve been to bed with three different men in three days. I’ve had sex with two men at the same time. I’m sure you’ve got a term for that, too.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Here you are outside this place that isn’t a real church with a man you’re not married to.”

“He’s also fourteen years younger than I am.”

Arvin shrugged. The age difference didn’t bother him at all. He also didn’t care about Jamie’s past sex life.

Wilson continued, “You should’ve been a traditional wife and mother. Like we raised you. You'll never marry and have children.”

“She doesn’t owe you grandchildren,” Arvin pointed out.

Wilson’s jaw tightened, but he was silent. Jamie stated firmly, “If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. Until I ask for it, that means I don’t want it.”

Her father clasped his hands as if praying. “Why don’t people get married and stay together anymore?”

“I know a couple that got together when they were in their late teens and got married,” Jamie said.

Wilson gestured to Lance. “Your stepdaughter married to a nice guy?”

“She’s gay,” Lance said in a matter-of-fact tone. He received a text notification and walked away to answer.

“That married couple I just mentioned is a lesbian couple,” Jamie told her father.

Wilson rolled his eyes.

Jamie looked directly at Wilson. ”Women aren’t as dependent on men as they used to be. We have more choices. I can’t speak for other women. I don’t have the patience to wait for men to learn what to do during sex so I can have my pleasure too. So when I find someone like Arvin, who knows what he’s doing, I try to hold on to him.”

Wilson snapped, “You think too much about the pleasures of the flesh.”

“Yeah, mostly,” Jamie agreed. “Gotta go now. I have a sex date with Arvin.”

“I stopped by your workplace and they told me you were coming here tonight. I need you to come home with me and do my taxes. Your mother always did this stuff. Now that she’s gone, I need you to do it.”

“Not tonight,” Jamie said sharply, then her tone softened. “I’ll come by Monday afternoon and help you.”

Wilson threw up his hands. “I’m disappointed!” Wilson shouted at Jamie, then quickly left, griping under his breath.

Lance came back to Jamie and Arvin as Wilson was departing. “They have this labyrinth walk every Friday evening at six. Next week I’ll bring my family with me.”

Arvin smiled and nodded, and the men shook hands. Jamie impulsively hugged Lance goodbye.

The next evening, Arvin stopped by her apartment for a cuddle date.

“Do you remember me mentioning using chalk at the gym to lift?”

"Demonstrate for me some time.”

“Thank you. But most women prefer a man with other talents.” Arvin hummed and looked down at his hands, assuming an expression of innocence.

“You look good with your shirt off.”

Arvin winked at her. “Anyway, my dad is a child psychologist. Some of his patients have a lot of anger to express and can’t get the words out, so he buys gym chalk, then lets them smash it. I thought you might want to release some anger, because of your father. I bought some gym chalk for you to play with.” He tapped his backpack.

“A unique gift, gym chalk.” Jamie smiled at him.

Jamie had to admit that crushing chalk released her frustrations much better than she’d hoped. It was so great to make a mess just to make one, after a childhood of being scolded by her fussy mother every time she caused any untidiness.

After washing the chalk from her hands, as Arvin cleaned up the mess on the kitchen table, Jamie brought out an old photo of herself and her father. She was about sixteen in the photo, dressed in a white gown with an ankle length hem and a lace collar. Wilson was wearing a dark gray suit and pale silvery gray tie. They had been photographed in a park somewhere, surrounded by flowers, trees, and grass. Wilson stood behind her, smiling, with his hands on her waist.

Arvin studied the photo for a moment. “I’ve never seen you look so unhappy.”

Jamie crumpled the photo, tossed it on the floor. “My purity picture. When I vowed to keep my purity for my father until I was handed over to my husband. That’s one reason I never wanted to be married. Other people think of marriage as this great partnership, when you always someone to love and take care of you. I think of marriage as a way to sign away my freedom.”

Jamie sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed. Arvin sat next to her and pulled her close. Her eyes widened. Often when she’d confided in people, they turned against her. She’d just said she didn’t believe much in marriage. Arvin hadn’t said a word yesterday or since, about what she’d done with other men.

Arvin wasn’t judging or rejecting her.

They curled up together on the bed before both fell asleep.

Jamie slept in until her alarm woke her at nine. Arvin was gone by the time Jamie awakened, leaving her a note that he had errands that couldn’t wait. Just as Jamie was preparing to leave, a bouquet of beautiful pink peonies arrived.

Arvin’s note: Better than gym chalk?

Lance thought of Jamie as she’d been in the past, all those years earlier. He’d observed her being visited by a string of men who stayed only an hour or so before leaving her apartment. Lance, posing as a potential client, had verified the facts by talking to one of the men later. Lance admitted to himself that in a way he wanted to be a real client. Then sternly told himself to stop having such thoughts.

Lance set up what appeared to be an accidental meeting with Jamie. He’d taken her into his office, suggested a job opportunity, persuaded his brother to hire her. Lance felt sex work should be decriminalized as long as the workers were doing the job willingly. But Lance also wanted to give Jamie a chance to get out of that line of work if she wanted to. Jamie had told no one, family or friends, about her sex work.

Lance would never tell Jamie what he knew about her.