Total Entrapment

By Neil Stipp

Allen Crishon is a young, sensitive, graduate student who becomes obsessively attracted to a mysterious woman, Pearl, whom he accidentally discovers is physically abusing her daughter. Because of the dating relationship and his emotional attachment to Pearl, he decides against going to the police, choosing to bear the guilt of not telling the au

• Language: English
• Publisher: TOPLINK PUBLISHING, LLC
• Release date: Mar 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781948779555

Neil Stipp

Neil Stipp is not only an author, but also a music teacher, organist, and published composer. A native southern Californian, he received his doctorate in organ performance and wrote a dissertation on Mozart. His articles have been published by The American Organist and he is the author of the novel Detours.

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Total Entrapment

Neil Stipp

Copyright © 2018 by Neil Stipp.

Paperback: 978-1-948779-54-8

eBook: 978-1-948779-55-5

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and incidences in this book are not to be considered as real. Any references to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a setting in historical reality.

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Printed in the United States of America

Total Entrapment

Contents

1

2

3

4

5

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8

9

10

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1

The lights from the chandeliers were glistening brighter than Allen had ever noticed before. He didn’t know why it could be, unless the rest of the lobby was somehow darker and the light had a piercing effect. Perhaps it was a subjective thing, in the same manner that a more optimistic person would feel that the sun is shining brighter. But he didn’t feel overly optimistic that evening, and was rather bored ushering people to their seats at the Schubert in Los Angeles. Allen was thinking of the number of times he had walked down the same aisles for this restless job.

It was a fine part-time stint with no pressure, a way to make a few extra bucks and see some of the plays at no charge, but to Allen it was a job that offered no growth or mind expansion. He was hoping that something exciting would happen, a wish that was going on six months since he started work. He had an early shift and would be out of the theatre twenty-five minutes after the show began. Perhaps he could go to Westwood and walk around afterwards and find a play he hadn’t seen.

Five minutes before curtain time he had to help someone with a wheel chair, and then show an elderly lady where the powder room was. He wondered whether he would ever see some Hollywood dignitaries and have the privilege of showing them where to relieve their urinary bladders.

Hi Allen, said a voice interrupting his thinking. He was now standing next to a door waiting to receive tickets and show people to their seats. The voice came from an attractive woman in her mid-twenties who had just approached him briskly with a smile.

Do I know you? Allen asked.

Your name tag, she replied as she gave him her ticket.

Oh. I forgot about that. Allen was now standing right next to her. She came up to his shoulder. He loved the smell of her perfume. Blonde, busty, wide smile. While he was looking at her ticket he realized she was observing him rather closely.

Is the performance sold out? she asked, looking at him very intensely.

I don’t believe it is. Allen got the impression that this woman was not concerned to get quickly to her seat. It looks like the orchestra section is going to be full. What do you think?

I don’t know. It wasn’t the last time I saw this play.

Oh, so you’ve already seen it.

Are you a student?

Yes. I’m a grad student at USC. Majoring in psychology.

Really. I live just a few blocks from USC, on Catalina Street. She continued to look very intensely at Allen.

I live on 27th Street near Hoover, he said nervously.

Well then, we’re practically neighbors, she said, nudging him with her shoulder. I live with my daughter.

Allen got another whiff of her perfume. The bells sounded in the theatre signifying the curtain call was approaching.

Meet me in the lobby at intermission and maybe afterward we can go have a drink, she said, as she took her ticket from him, not needing to know where to find her seat.

Sounds great, Allen said mechanically.

He saw her go to a seat in the fourth row and noticed her great figure and movements of grace. Allen’s mind started spinning like a rolodex and came up with a plan. With his early shift he would be through with work in about half an hour. After seeing her at intermission and planning a date for afterwards, he would drive home and change into more comfortable clothes. Then he would come back to the theatre and see her after the show.

He didn’t even know her name. But the aura surrounding her presence stayed with him. He could tell she was very intense and passionate even in the few moments he had already spent with her. Allen was quiet, reserved, and considered conservative by his closest friends. He never had a woman of this kind show an interest in him.

After Allen seated the latecomers he was through with work and spent the rest of the time before intermission just sitting in the usher’s lounge. When intermission started he became very nervous. But he took a deep breath and walked outside to the entrance of the theatre where the people could get some fresh air with their drinks. He wondered whether the woman would step outside.

Allen scanned the crowd and couldn’t find her. But after five minutes he saw her walk smoothly out the doors with a glass of champagne in her right hand. Allen gallantly walked up to her from the side. She didn’t notice him so he initiated.

Hello.

She turned, saw him, and smiled.

Well hi. Want a sip? She offered him her champagne, which he felt was rather awkward.

No thanks. He couldn’t drink in uniform. Taste good?

Mm hmm, she nodded, and took another drink.

It‘s nice out here.

The breeze feels good, she responded.

You mentioned you live with your son?

No, a daughter, she said. Her name is Margo. She’s eight.

She looked very intensely at Allen, just as she did before.

But I’m not married, she said. Then she paused. I live on Catalina and 24th Street. She paused again and smiled at Allen.

Do you like living in that area? The place has a large diversity of races and cultures.

Yes, I do, she said. That’s why I like it. It’s also a good place for my kid to grow up. You know, so that she can be exposed to different cultures and not become prejudiced. She took another swallow.

Allen noticed her hands, her fingernails, and the low- cut dress.

Did you want to get together afterwards? he asked.

She paused and smiled and then said: I forgot after speaking to you that I have no one to look after my kid after eleven o’clock and I need to get right home. I remembered that this is Friday night and my normal babysitter isn’t available for real late. Why don’t you drop by tomorrow afternoon?

Okay. About what time?

I don’t care. I’ll be in most of the afternoon. You can come in and we can talk, she said.

I’ll be there at about two?

Sure. I should be there.

And it’s at Catalina and. . . .

Twenty-fourth. Northwest corner.

Okay. Great.

Thanks, Allen, she said smiling. I’ll see you then.

Allen realized he had forgotten something.

By the way, he said and smirked. What’s your name?

Pearl.

Allen said goodbye, turned, and walked away quickly, knowing she could tell he was shy because of his abrupt departure. He could sense she was looking at him as he walked away to the locker room.

Because of his new acquaintance, Allen hardly thought of anything else when he left the Schubert. His psychology homework, his semi-steady girl Lucie, and whether his bills got paid were all put in the background. When he got to his apartment he was in another world and only Pearl was in it.

His apartment was in the back of an old two story house owned by Gladys Koans. The apartment was to the left of the downstairs hallway and had three small rooms, including the bathroom. It was cozy, but it was all Allen needed. He didn’t have a lot of clothes, and didn’t keep many souvenirs. Rarely were there any visitors to his apartment. Gladys had a rule that if any girls were over, the door would need to be left open. She trusted no one. Not even too-clean-behind-the-ears Allen. There were five apartments in all, with two upstairs and three downstairs, including Gladys’s. She only rented out to students, and they had to be boys, although she would never tell anyone that.

Allen arrived at the abode on the corner of Catalina and 24th at two the following afternoon. It was a large and old two story house, very similar to the one his apartment was in. He didn’t know what the afternoon with Pearl would bring but hopefully it would not bring disappointment. Allen knocked on the front door, and a man in his twenties with cut-off jeans and no shirt opened the door.

Is Pearl here?

The man didn’t answer but turned and went back to find her. A few seconds later, she appeared. She was not as attractive as she had made herself the previous evening, but then neither was he.

Hi, she said, and her hi was drawn out and lasted a few seconds. She was definitely glad to see him and she smiled broadly. He realized how too conservatively he was dressed. She had on cut-off jeans and was more than casual. Except for a suit and tie, he almost looked like he was ready for church. He dismissed his thoughts.

She opened the screen door. Come on in. Pearl offered him her hand, Allen clasped it, and then she let go. She turned around and walked up the stairs and Allen followed.

This is a commune, and I hope you won’t be offended if you see some naked bodies around here, she said, and turned around to get a response from Allen. A definite interesting opening line from a host to a guest, he thought.

Oh, said a surprised Allen. Well, I guess not.

They went down a short hall and then into her room where a little girl was playing, obviously her daughter.

Margo, why don’t you go take your toys and play in Alice’s room. The girl complied by taking some things and began to go out the door. Margo, this is Allen, a friend of mine. She said a quick hello and then left the room. Pearl threw some pillows on the floor for Allen to sit down on. There was not much furniture. A huge bed, one chest of drawers, a bookshelf, and a television set.

I beat the hell out of her if she doesn’t obey, or purposely tries to annoy me to get attention, said Pearl, as if she needed to give an explanation as to why Margo immediately obeyed by leaving the room. Something was all wrong, thought Allen. Pearl appeared in a different light than last night.

Pearl plopped on the bed while Allen sat on a couple of pillows.

So—how are things with you, she said, crossing her legs under her.

Fine. I slept in this morning until ten. I haven’t slept like that in months. I tried sleeping on my side for a change and it sure made a difference.

I have to sleep on my side, too, said Pearl, looking very intensely at him. If I sleep on my back I get nightmares, and if I sleep on my tummy I get too turned on. So it’s the only position left available.

Allen paused before he spoke. The silence was too uncomfortable for him so he blurted out: How many people live here?

There are ten of us including two kids, my Margo and Alice’s Johanna. There are four women and four men. We share all things, including the bills, the groceries, whatever. We use the same showers together and bathrooms of course. The passionate look Allen was receiving from her excited him, but he felt somewhat uncomfortable by these surroundings.

We each put our share of money into the container out in the hall and then we each take turns going to get the groceries and such, she continued. It really is a good setup, and is very convenient for all of us. It also saves time.

Yes, I guess it would save time.

So you’re into psychology, huh? I am too, in a sense.

Really?

Yes. I have a few patients that I see weekly, she said.

You do? Are you are therapist?

I guess you could say that. I like to think of myself more as a conversationalist who knows quite a bit about life and can help people with their problems. I see about ten people a week on a regular basis. Some of them are my friends. I don’t charge them per hour like a licensed therapist would do. But they usually give me a healthy tip afterward. I like listening to people.

Is that your only job?

No. I’m a dancer, said Pearl. I dance in plays, in musicals, anything that has choreography. It’s fun. She smiled and then looked deeply at Allen as if she were seeing right through him.

When was the last time you danced in something?

"About six weeks ago. It was the musical Oliver, remember?"

Oh yes. I didn’t get a chance to see it. It was at one of the smaller theatres. Allen thought he saw out of the corner of his eye a nude man walking down the hall. I’m so busy at the Schubert that I generally don’t have the time to see things at other theatres.

Why do you work at the Schubert?

Oh, to make some extra money at a non-pressure job. It helps to pay for some school bills, and I get to see some plays free. I love the arts and cultural things.

I do too, Pearl smiled widely. Isn’t it grand? The arts bring out the true soul of the human species. Her arms and hands were moving all over as she spoke. The arts show the true divine creative spark from God that’s in humans. Man is not just flesh and blood but a deeply emotional being. Every muscle of Pearl now seemed to be pulsating. She is really wound up tight, thought Allen.

Hmm, was all that he could say to her discourse.

So why did you choose the field of psychology? she asked.

Allen was able to talk about himself quite well at this point. He loved studying people, because people fascinated him. They are predictable, and yet very unpredictable. Pearl did not take her eyes