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told the whole tale. Strange, but it was much easier than the previous
night he had told it to Julie in bed. He began to wonder if maybe his
manhood wasn’t really in question after all.

After Harold was finished, there was silence for a long time. Michael
sat with his eyes closed, digesting information, perhaps. Finally, he
spoke.

“I see your problem, but I don’t think you do. Control is not the real
problem here. You, sir, are attempting to define yourself by your sexual
ability.”

Harold gaped at him for a long moment. “I don’t understand.”

“Simple. This Cindi person did nothing more than verbally assault your
abilities in bed. A painful experience, yes, but not one that should
trigger such a deep depression unless a problem already existed. You are
placing far more emphasis on sex than is healthy for you. Tell me, how
would you feel if I told you Julie was married?”

Harold felt an icy hand clutch his heart as he shivered in the
sweltering heat. “She-she is? But what happened last night…”

“Well, she’s separated, actually. She had planned a reconciliation
last night at the party, but her husband never showed up. She just learned
this morning that he was in the emergency room at Central hospital with a
hernia. I believe the police have taken an interest in the matter, for some
strange reason. All this could have had something to do with what
happened.”

And she had never said a word about it, while Harold had blubbered all
over the place about his own problems.

Michael interrupted his thoughts. “But you did not answer my question.
Does it bother you that she has a marriage she is trying to reconcile?”

The words were like nails being hammered into Harold’s heart. “Well…
shit. I guess it does…”

“Why?” Michael asked mildly.

Taken aback, Harold replied, “Well… after what happened last night I
was hoping I’d found… She’s an incredible woman.”

“Whom you’ve known only a few hours.” Michael finished for him. “What
you found was a chance to redeem yourself, and, from what you’ve told me,
you’ve done that admirably. You’ve totally disproved everything this Cindi
person told you, yet still you are not happy. You believe that gaining the
ability to postpone orgasm is the only thing that will confirm your
manhood.” His next words were emphasized so as to avoid any chance of
misunderstanding: “Bullshit.”

Harold blinked rapidly “I don’t understand.”

Michael sighed. “Harold, my boy, the only person in the world who can
confirm your manhood is you. What is the definition of manhood, anyway?
I’ve heard many definitions, and few of them have anything to do with
sex.”

“But…” Harold stammered, still confused. “You won’t help?”

Michael was about to say he didn’t think Harold needed any. Then he
closed his mouth and thought a moment. Harold probably wouldn’t listen.
Michael sensed something in this young man, something he didn’t see very
often. Harold was obviously very intelligent, as well as in a lot of pain.
He could get a lot out of life if he ever got the courage to crawl out from
under his rock of self-pity. All he really needed was the right kind of
guidance, and Michael never had been one to resist trying to help.

“I may help.” Michael said at last. “How far are you willing to go?”

“Well…” Harold thought for a moment, more confused than ever. “As…
far as I have to.” he finally replied.

Michael stared at him for a long time, taking his measure. Finally, he
sighed. “Very well. I have a vacant room you may stay in. You will need to
move your belongings there. The room and board will be free of charge, at
least for now.” He leaned forward again. “Your life is going to change
drastically. Just remember what you said.”

Harold swallowed hard. He was no longer confused.

He was frightened.

Two weeks passed. They passed slowly, but hardly peacefully. The
daytime temperature remained in the 100’s, and things were heating up in
more ways than one:

The Willyville Nudist Society, despite warnings from the police,
persisted in their activities. Walks, swims, gardening, any outdoor
activity that could be was performed in the nude in the scorching sunshine.
After the first fifty busts or so, the police decided it was a lost cause
and just ignored the whole thing. After all, they still had the
air-conditioner thieves to catch. The nudists were easy to spot even with
their clothes on, as they had tans so deep they bordered on sunburns. But
then a medical segment on the local news mentioned something that put the
whole thing into a new light…

Skin cancer.

Terror spread through the naturist community as fast as the phone
could carry the news, and the next day the Willyville Nudist Society
disbanded, only to be replaced by the Willyville Overcoat Society. That’s
right, every single one of the ex-nudists were bundled up in long coats and
large hats every time they set foot outside. Within 48 hours the hospitals
reported 19 cases of heat stroke. The doctors and nurses of the Willyville
medical community were beginning to wish they had the luxury of taking long
overdue vacations…

On a more positive note, the Willyville air conditioner crime wave
ended in a rather spectacular way. Elmo Burns had taken a sick day from the
sawmill and was busily enjoying X-rated videotapes in the privacy of his
own home (as was his constitutional right) when he heard strange noises
coming from the direction of the air-conditioner. Already suspicious, he
pulled up his pants, grabbed his over-and-under shotgun, went out the front
door, and snuck around to the back of the house. Sure enough, there was a
man standing on a short stepladder, trying to lever the air-conditioner
loose with a crowbar. Obviously, he thought Elmo was away at work,
overlooking Elmo’s Ford 4X4 sitting square in the driveway. Elmo figured
that the subtle approach would just be wasted on someone this dumb, so he
announced his presence by letting the would-be thief have it right in the
ass with both barrels at close range.

Elmo’s shotgun had been loaded with hand-made shells containing, not
buckshot, but rock salt and bacon rinds, which had been his daddy’s
solution for kids who stole crops from the fields. The attack was not
lethal, but the crook was still quite immobilized (to say the least) when
the police arrived. The detective in charge of the thefts saw that a golden
opportunity had arisen to bring this mess to a halt once and for all. He
took the wounded thief downtown instead of to the hospital and directly to
an interrogation room. There, being held down on a hard wooden chair by two
burly officers, it took the screaming thief less than fifteen seconds to
decide to roll over on the rest of his gang. Within the hour they were all
rounded up, along with a small warehouse full of air conditioners, which
had turned out to be a bit harder to fence that they anticipated.

The chief of police announced the news from the steps of City Hall to
a cheering crowd of over a thousand sweating theft victims. But there was
one small snag. Somebody asked when the air conditioners would be returned
to their anxious owners. The chief paused for a second, swallowed hard,
then confessed that they would all have to be held over as evidence for the
trial–which was scheduled to begin in six weeks.

The riot that ensued would best be left to the reader’s
imagination…

“Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm…” Michael crooned, sitting
…End of the part3. To be continued..