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OOPS! THEN YOU ARE DEADBy Tolu2PREVIEW OF A SHORT STORY FROMUPCOMING BOOKS ‘Oops! Story One’Sweetie Pie was all excited in 1961. She was about sixteen years old, already married, with a baby to take care of. She had just gotten involved in a new sales venture, selling Sarah Coventry jewelry based on earning a commission. Whatever she sold, she got a whopping 25% of her total sales for commission. This could mean some income for her. So Sweetie Pie was pretty excited about the prospects of it. There were very few jobs around. She had a husband, a brand new baby, and she was only sixteen. She’d be seventeen soon, though. This was late August, in Washington, DC. She had gone to her first sales meeting for the Sarah Coventry Jewelry Representatives. Things went very well at the sales meeting. The meeting was interesting. Sweetie Pie always put her age up as she did today. She said she was twenty years old. She never was comfortable with, and didn’t feel respected, being so young at the time. So she would always put up her age. Everybody else at this sales meeting who was selling Sarah Coventry jewelry was at least thirty years old.Sweetie Pie was both happy and excited. The sales manager and another person, who was riding with her too, dropped Sweetie Pie off. At the bus stop on 7th Street and Massachusetts Avenue to ride the bus the rest of the way home. Which was pretty much most of the way left to get home by bus. So she was standing there that August day, about seven o’clock. It was still light and bright outside. People coming home from work. There were a lot of people at the bus stop in sight where Sweetie Pie was dropped off. I would say, probably about maybe twelve or thirteen people at the bus stop, which was near an intersection and the traffic light. Sweetie Pie was standing there at the bus stop, waiting for her U-8 bus. Everything’s just fine, when this fellow came up. He stood near Sweetie Pie. He was very cruddy, dirty, street guttural, hard, and a despicable-looking guy. Now I didn’t tell you that Sweetie Pie, not only was she sixteen, soon to be seventeen, but Sweetie Pie was quite fresh, quite innocent, quite soft. Her skin was gorgeous. Her hair fell to silky curls around her lovely face. She was not a person who had lived yet, and she had not had a hard life, so she was quite lovely. Well, this cruddy-looking Street Monster entered the bus stop scene too. So The Street Monster comes up to Sweetie Pie. She’s standing there with her arms beside her, with her large almond-shaped eyes and peach-and-honey color complexion. She’s just lovely, really bordering on beautiful, about five-eight, trim, eyes bright, full mouth, pearly teeth, and he came up to her and said, “Hi.” He didn’t come up to her, either. He slithered to her side like the snake he was, then looked over at Sweetie Pie. Stood there for a while. I’d say about two minutes, three minutes. Then he said, “Hi.” Well, Sweetie Pie had learned and understood that when a guy comes up to you and says “Hi,” it’s just a lot better to go ahead and say “Hi” back, regardless of whether he’s a Street Monster or not. Simply because that supposedly will eliminate or curtail him becoming hostile, aggressive, angry, exploding, and using the fact that you didn’t speak back to him as a basis for becoming ugly with you. So she said “Hi,” all the time keeping her face looking forward. Now, Sweetie Pie was a little apart from the other people at the bus stop. The other people who were standing at the bus stop were all working people. They were all kind of standing together, but Sweetie Pie was not standing in the midst of them. She was a little ways off. In fact what happened was, when she was first put out of the car at that bus stop, there was not as many people at the bus stop. Then more people continued to arrive at the bus stop. Most of these people regularly stood there waiting for the bus, and they kind of congregated a lot closer together, physically, than she did. So after Sweetie Pie said “Hi” back to the guy, he then began to speak to her, in a very low monologue, under his breath, so that only Sweetie Pie could hear him. The scene was, there’s this crowd of people, maybe twelve, waiting for their buses to go home. They’re all about a good, I would say, maybe ten feet from Sweetie Pie and The Street Monster. Sweetie Pie has the Street Monster standing to the left of her. So, basically, if the other people turn around and look to their right ten feet away, they will see Sweetie Pie standing up there, and this guy is on the other side of her. Sweetie Pie is actually kind of blocking the Street Monster from the view of the other people standing at the bus stop. He continues speaking to her in an undertone, saying to her, “Do you have a boyfriend?” “You sure are pretty.” “You look good. I like the way you look.” “You’re a good-looking girl, woman, lady.” “I’d like to have a lady like you. I had a lady like you one time but I lost her.” He was going on, on, and on with this sort of monologue. All the time Sweetie Pie was still looking straight ahead. This monologue all took place within a matter of two to three minutes, so by the time Sweetie Pie saw that this was a bad situation, she really did not know what to do about it. Because before she could make a decision or think about doing anything, the Street Monster began to say to her, “I sure would like to fuck you. Oh, I know, you don’t think that I am good enough.” All the time Sweetie Pie hadn’t said anything back to him. She never even looked at the Street Monster. She never looked him in the face. She never even looked towards him, but she was looking out the side of her eye at him without ever turning her head towards him. He kept talking to Sweetie Pie in this low voice, almost like a ventriloquist. He said, “I sure would like to fuck you.” “Oh, you don’t think that I am good enough for you, do you?” “You don’t think that I would qualify for fucking you, or that you could be my woman?” “Well, I’m going to tell you what…I am going to fuck you, this day.” He was saying this in a very, very low tone of voice so that only Sweetie Pie could hear him. Very low, he said, “Now, look, you’re going to come with me.” “You’re going to be my woman today.” “So you got a choice.” “You can either come with me peacefully, or I’m going to brutalize you and you are still going to get fucked by me.” “It’s better for you to get fucked without getting all beat up, too.” “Yeah, it would be much better for you to just come with me, than for me to beat you out here on the street. I will beat you down to the ground and then drag you off with me and fuck you.” Well, by this point, Sweetie Pie was thinking, as all of this is going on in a matter of seconds, in less than a minute. “Why does this guy think he can violate me like this?” “Could this really happen to me?” “What is going on here?” “Here I am standing at the bus stop on an August afternoon, the sun is still up, with a whole bus stop load of people on a main thoroughfare, and this guy feels that he can jump on me, beat me, and make me come with him? I don’t know this Monster. I have never even seen him before.” “This Street Monster? I’m standing up here, a Sweetie Pie? How is this possible? How could this be happening to me? What could even make this guy think that this could happen?”Well, no sooner than those thoughts and questions went through Sweetie Pie’s mind, the Street Monster answered how this was going to happen and how it was all possible. He said, “Now, I know you don’t believe me.” I guess the Street Monster, being a Street Monster, was reading Sweetie Pie’s worried, lovely face the whole time. I guess that, being so young and innocent, it wasn’t hard to read Sweetie Pie’s bewildered face. Her face said, “Hey, I’m horrified. I’m young! I’m cute! I’m sweet! I’m being accosted! I’m being intimidated! I’m impacted by all of this. Why hasn’t anyone noticed what’s happening to me?” Sweetie Pie wandered, looking over at the bus crowd, and no one was paying them any attention. No one was seeing that Sweetie Pie was in distress. Maybe they didn’t care, like the Street Monster said. How was all of this going to turn out? Well, the Street Monster told her how it was all going to turn out. He said, “I know you think those people over there at the bus stop are going to save you.” Then he said, “They’re not.” He said, “Number one, look at you, and look at them.” “Just look over there at those women.” “Do you see how those women over there look?” “They’ve been working hard all day long and maybe even all night long, in somebody’s house, cleaning it up. In their kitchen cooking, or on some damn job, being treated like shit.” “You see how their shoes are run over?” “Those women are haggard and baggard. They are ‘worn-out parts.’” “The guys that’s over there are no better off either.” “You know what, everybody’s coming home from a job and could care less about your Sweetie Pie ass. But, most of all, it ain’t really about their lives. It’s about the way things are, Miss ‘Sweetie Pie.’” He said, “Now I’m going to tell you how I’m going to handle this. I’m going to tell you why nobody’s going to help you. I know you’re thinking you might get some help. But I’m going to start talking real loud in a minute,” and again he repeated, “Look at me, and look at you. You see, I am a Street Monster, and I look like a Street Monster. You’re a Sweetie Pie, and you look like a Sweetie Pie. What I’m going to start saying to you, while talking real loud, is how you are standing up here looking so sweet and cute. You have left our five children at home while you came out here to go meet some nigger. I’ve been home, the kids haven’t been fed, the house is dirty, and you haven’t cooked nothing all day. I come down here on this corner all dirty from my job. I just got home from work, looking for my woman--YOU. Here you are dressed up, standing on this corner, waiting for the bus to go meet some nigger. That’s the first thing I’m going to say. Then, after I say that, I’m going to punch you in the face. Ain’t nobody going to stop me. Ain’t nobody going to feel nothing for you. Or care nothing about you. Because all those people standing up there, ten feet from us, are going to be sympathetic towards me. Look at me, the Street Monster, and look at you, a Sweetie Pie! Plus, that’s just how shit is. This is the way the world revolves. If a man takes it upon himself to beat a woman down in the street, all he got to do is say that she is his woman if anyone asks. Then, while he’s beating her, keep saying that she’s a no-good woman, a no-good mother, a no-good wife, and that she’s got a good man, who’s working hard for her. She hasn’t done what she’s supposed to do as his woman, and people will cheer him on,” he said. “Sweetie Pie, no one is going to help you or save you from me. They’re going to be silently rooting for me, every time I throw a punch on you. They’re going to be wanting me to throw an additional two more licks up side your head. To give you what you deserve for mistreating a fellow, a guy, or any other bum-assed man, like me, the Street Monster. Hee! Hee! The trick is on your cute little ass. Hee! Hee!” Sweetie Pie was thinking, as he was talking, “Goodness, he is so right! No one’s going to help me. No one’s going to get involved. No one’s going to stop him. It’s all up to me to save myself.” She became enraged. Quietly enraged. Sweetie Pie’s rage helped her to think calmly, as she always did when she was faced with situations that seem impossible and insurmountable. Whenever she was dealing with another person, the first thing she did was get real calm and think, “Is this person smarter than you, Sweetie Pie?” The answer was always, “No.” Then she thought, “Is this person as smart as you, Sweetie Pie?” Again the answer was always “No.” Then the third thing she always thought was: “Well, Sweetie Pie, you just figure out how you’re going to handle this situation in such a manner that your superior intellect will give you victory. Sweetie Pie, fix this situation. Just get real quiet, real calm, stay calm, and think. A big old T H I N K. There’s got to be something else that you can do other than go with this Street Monster or stay here and let this Street Monster beat you up. Then be dragged off by him to be fucked. Either way, like the Street Monster said, Sweetie Pie, you would be fucked.” Sweetie Pie thought; she got real quiet. She thought some more. This thinking all went on in a matter of probably a minute or two. Then it came to her. No. It didn’t come to her. She dreamed it up. She conjured it up. She intellected it up. She thought it up. She devised a plan for saving herself from the Street Monster. She designed it. What she decided was to, “Look around! See what your options are. Think very quickly, crisply, how you can get out of this situation.” They were at the bus stop. The bus stop was almost at the corner of an intersection that had a traffic light, one of the few traffic lights around, really. Then she thought, “Okay. You’re at a traffic light, so a lot of taxicabs and cars must stop there when the light is red.” She kept looking for the bus to come, but it wouldn’t. She never looked for buses quite like she looked for any bus now. It was still during rush hour, but no bus had passed in all this time. No bus at all. No buses of any sort came. Nothing but cars were coming by. The red light at that intersection was catching many vehicles. Of course both the cars and taxicabs stopped at the light when it was red. Sweetie Pie would not know anybody in the cars. Then it came to her. “Okay, what you will do is, the very first time that a taxicab comes by and is stopped at that traffic light and its door is unlocked, you will jump in it and lock the door behind you.” You could tell that the door was unlocked on the cars at that time because they had these long lock stems that stuck way up out the door, you know, really high. So you could see from a distance whether the car door was locked or not. Sweetie Pie could not let the Street Monster know, or tell she was planning to get away from him. He mustn’t see her moving, or making a break from him. Then he could hit her or stop her. Or that her plans to get away from him get thwarted. Then she would be subject to his being all over her, getting into this thing of her being his no-good woman. Him beating her, and no one helping her. Without fail, there are never any police around when you desperately need them. Oh, forget that. Heavens forbid should a police officer ever come around when you desperately need police help. But let the taillight on my car be dim and see if a policeman won’t show up for that. Sweetie Pie watched the cars go by. She got real quiet. All this time the Street Monster was still talking to her. A couple cabs went by. They all had passengers. The doors were locked. Then Sweetie Pie began to think, “Okay.” She began to expand what vehicle she was willing to try to get in. She said, “I will get into any taxi that I can see that the door is unlocked, whether it has passengers or not.” Even if it had passengers, she’d run up to the door, snatch the unlocked door open, jump in, and lock the door behind her. Then refuse to get out of that cab if this Street Monster was to try to approach the cab or to get her out of the cab. That seemed like a good plan. It was just a matter of the damn cab coming and the door being unlocked, because she couldn’t take a chance on hailing one or appearing to hail the cab in any way. She couldn’t hold her hand up to let the Street Monster know she was trying to hail a cab. Or to convince the cab driver to let her in the cab. Plus, if he already had passengers, he wasn’t going to open his door and let her in anyway. Then she thought some more. She said, “Okay, that’s Plan A. You got to have a Plan B, Sweetie Pie. Where’s your Plan B?” She thought, not only would she do this in the case of a taxicab door that was unlocked, but any car that came by that had an unlocked door, she would just jump in that car. Lock the door and insist that the driver take her to the police, because she wasn’t going to get out. All the time the Street Monster was carefully studying Sweetie Pie’s body language. Watching her face. Looking to see if there was any tremble on her lips, to see if her color tone had changed. While telling her all the disgusting sexual things he was going to force on her. When he said, “Oh yeah, you will be with me this day. You can look to spend the evening with me. Now I know that you said that you have a husband. When I asked you if you was married, you shook your head yes. I don’t give a shit that you have a husband. He’s not going to miss what I’m going to take from you, so it’s okay.” He said, “You’d be better off not to tell your man what happens between us today. That’s why you should come and go with me. So you won’t be all whipped up when you get home. So he won’t know nothing’s different.” Sweetie Pie kept thinking, “Do not let the Street Monster OUTSMART you, Sweetie Pie.” “YOU ARE IN CONTROL.” “You are the master. You are the smart one. Stay calm. Stay relaxed. Stay focused on your plan to get away from this Beast. Leave the Street Monster standing here looking like what he is, the Street Monster.” Finally, fortunately enough, a taxicab drove up. Finally, the traffic light was red. Finally, the cab door was unlocked. There were two other people sitting in the back seat. Sweetie Pie ran and jumped in the front seat. The door was unlocked on the front passenger’s side. She locked the door quickly behind her. The cab drove off. That was the end of her nightmare with the Street Monster, but you know what one must wonder is, how many other times had the Street Monster done this, before then and after then? I am sure he did that same thing to some other Sweetie Pie’s and it worked. Sweetie Pie felt sure it had worked before. He’d done it before, because he had perfected it. He had his whole psychology of how he was going to violate her. He’d tell her what he was going to do, why it was going to work, and the psychology of the people. So he knew this situation very well. Oh, Street Monster, we certainly hope that you got some ugly vicious monstrous thing that you deserved to have gotten. Like having a truck hit you and break every bone in your body. Then you live for a whole years afterwards. Or perhaps have hot lead poured in your ears while you slept. Or having a pot of hot oatmeal thrown in your face. Sweetie Pie’s jumping in the cab and locking the door and driving away was not nearly enough. It didn’t serve anything other than to save Sweetie Pie. But how about all the other Sweetie Pie’s that you had violated for so many years? We just hope, Street Monster, that you got some cruel, long, and unusual punishment. Which was something so ugly and so brutal…oh, there’s just no way of even describing what you, the Street Monster, deserve. You ugly monster you.Tolu2PO Box 48331 Washington ,DC 20002-0331(202) 331-4418www.Tolu2Books.comTolu2Books@aol.comJoin us with your personal views on my upcoming books and the latest women’s topics. Tolu2Books Club At: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Tolu2BooksClub2Previews of stories at: http://pages.ivillage.com/tolu2books/oopsstoryone/WHY AND HOW WOMEN ARE EXPLOITED BY MEN WORLDWIDE FORUMhttp://forum.onecenter.com/tolu2books