Archive-name: Young/inanna25.txt
Archive-author: Inanna/Leigh Ann
Archive-title: Inanna's Girlhood in Ancient Sumer


	[The following story is fiction. It involves (at least for now)
	consensual heterosexual interaction between a minor child and 
	an adult. Further parts of this series will involve D/S, S/M,
	and mindfucks. If pedophilia squicks you, hit 'n' now and don't
	bitch at me, okay? Again, this is *fiction*. The author in no 
        way condones sexual interaction with children. (Oh, and don't 
	repost this without my explicit permission, or else.)]


		    Inanna's Girlhood in Ancient Sumer
				Part One


	I met him a week before I was twelve years old. I was exploring 
the cemetery that surrounded the little Episcopal church half a block 
from my house. Back then, we lived in a big old victorian house on the
edge of the 'nice' part of downtown. Mother worked and my little brother
had his own friends, off somewhere else in the neighborhood. I played 
alone. 

	I wandered several times a week in that cemetery. Most of the 
time, it was before school while I waited for the bus, or after school
on choir days. I liked to read all the headstones and make up stories about
the dead: how they had lived their lives, how they'd died. I liked the stones
of the children best. I daydreamed often of what my stone would say. I was,
I suppose, a morbid little girl. 

	I was sitting at the foot of Katherine Lock's little lambshaped
headstone, repeating the epitaph over and over again to myself. "She is
not dead, but sleepeth." There seemed some hidden truth to it I was trying
to decipher. I thought it might give me clues to her untimely infant death.
Silly, heady thoughts for an eleven year old; I thought myself very adult.
As I sat there, he walked up behind me. One of his feet knocked an acorn
into my knee, and I jumped up, startled. 

	I turned and smoothed my dress down even as a looked anxiously at
him. He seemed tall to me -- but then, I was the smallest girl in the sixth
grade, so everyone seemed tall. His hair was dark brown, short, and tousled,
like he ran his hands through it a lot. He was wearing dark dress pants,
loafers, and a creamy yellow dress shirt, open one button. And a watch.

	What held me, even that very first day, were his eyes. They were
dark grey, or maybe green -- the color seemed to change in the light --
and somehow painful to look at for very long, like the sun. He was smiling
at me, and it seemed a very open, friendly smile, but his eyes said 
different, darker things to me. Years later, remembering them, I would
always think of my maternal grandmother's phrase for a look like that:
"like the snake in Eden." It was that kind of gaze. 

	I backed up a step from those eyes. He smiled at me. "Hi? What's
up?" he said, his voice warm and soft. "Did I scare you?"

	"No, I'm just waiting for a friend. My mom's across the street
in the sub shop, ordering cheesesteaks..." I said quickly. To make sure 
he believed me, I turned and waved at the window of Stewart's Subs. I 
knew all the right stuff to do for strangers talking to you. I smiled
at him and turned to walk away to the shop. "Nice meeting you..."

	He laughed softly. I turned around, confused. He was still 
smiling at me. 

	"I'm not going to hurt you, or drag you back to my car or
something. You're very smart, you know? That was quick thinking. I
just wanted to talk." His smile lessened a bit. "You're lonely, and 
you're too bright to hang out with the other kids, I bet. Can I 
make you an offer?"

	"Uh....I really have to go, she's waiting for me..." I stammered,
but my confidence was gone. "What offer?"

	He smiled again, and his eyes lit up, making me want to shield
my own eyes. "You and I sit on the front steps of the church and talk. 
You don't have to worry, because it'll be out in the open, and with all
those cars and people going past, I can't do anything to you, you know?
Just talking. Today. And if you like it, maybe we sit and talk there
another day soon. Deal?"

	I considered going home to watch _The Edge of Night_, or running
off to the park, but he was right. It didn't really seem like a risk. 
"Okay, but just today, and just for a while. I have to go at 4:30," I 
said, and then turned to walk over to the steps. 

	He wandered over behind me and sat down next to me a reasonable
distance apart. I made sure my knees were tight together and pulled my
skirt down tight, holding it there with my hands, just in case. I was
fast, I knew I could be across the street before he could touch me or 
do anything funny. 

	I chewed on my bottom lip. "What do you want to talk about, 
hmmm?" I expected him to ask me if had nasty thoughts or something 
about men. You know, child molester stuff. 

	"Oh, about you. I wonder what kind of young woman reads grave
markers and sings hymms to trees, and does ballet leaps as she runs
home in the afternooon...." His voice trailed off. "You seem like a 
very unusual young lady." He stuck his hands in his pants pockets.

	I blushed, embarrassed at having my daydreamy rituals put in
those words. I sounded crazy, to hear him talk. It was also scary and
a little exiting to realize he must have seen me a few times, to know
what kinds of things I did in the afternoon. 

	"Oh, I make up stories for the dead people, and it's just 
practicing for church, and I can go faster that way...." I replied
quickly, trying to sound like it didn't really matter why I did the
things. I twirled a lock of my own dirt brown hair in my fingers and 
stuck it in my mouth to suck on as I talked. I started chewing the ends
off nervously. "I make up things a lot, but I know it's just pretend, 
I'm not *confused* or anything. I'm just more creative than some kids."

	I kept talking for a long time, about things I made up, and
the classes I took in school, and my little brother and my parents. I
didn't *mean* to talk about personal stuff, but he had this way of
smiling at me and asking questions that made me want to say just a 
little more, or explain myself, so I wouldn't seem silly. He nodded
and pulled his hands out of pockets, and I saw the time. 4:40.

	"I have to go home, um...nice talking..." Even as I talked, 
I was trying to figure out how to run off so he wouldn't guess where
I lived. I stood up. "I have to go now, okay?"

	He nodded and got up. I turned and started down the block. I
planned to go all the way around my block and to my house, the long
way around. Unless he followed me, that would throw him off some. 

	"Hey," he called after me. "You didn't tell me your name. I'm
Phillip."

	"Oh, yah. You can call me Nan," I yelled back, and then ran
skipping off to cross the street and disappear around the corner. I
ducked back behind the Watson's and into my backyard. I ran in the 
back door to the livingroom and fell onto the couch, breathing fast.
No one was home yet. I got up and hurriedly cleaned out the dishwasher
before mother got home. I was just finishing when my brother arrived.
Mother's car pulled into the drive right after that. 

	I went to bed that night at 9:00 PM, as usual. At midnight, 
I was still awake, worrying over the day. It wasn't just meeting him --
Phillip, or whatever his real name was -- it was the homework I hadn't 
done, the science project I was putting off, the gym teacher who made
fun of me in front of the class, and the clique of popular girls who
had cornered me in English to tease me about my unfashionable shoes. It
was the worried look on my mother's face and my father's angry mood. 

	Without thinking, I let my hand slip down between my legs and
into my pink cotton panties. I rested my hand there for a bit before
pulling it out and using my fingertips to push the fabric of the crotch
into the cleft of my labia. I pressed my index finger into the little
hollow I'd made and left it there for a while, enjoying the warm feeling
of the pressure on my lips and clit. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I'd
figured out how to touch myself and have what I thought must be orgasms
a few months before. I got more sleep these days because of masturbating.
It made me drowsy. 

	I started rubbing myself, softly at first, then harder. I closed
my eyes and imagined myself (but older) being kidnapped by pirates. It
was my standard fantasy: the good guy -- some kinder, gentler pirate,
usually the first mate -- would be about to seduce me when the bad pirates
broke into his cabin and dragged me off to the deck to be gang raped by
the crew and then tied to the mast and flogged until I passed out. I was
just about to come (as the first mate untied me and took me back to his 
cabin to kiss my hurts better) when I turned my face to the window next
to my bed. I could see the street below even though I was lying down. I 
traced the sidewalk with my eyes, stopping suddenly even as my toes curled
and my back arched from the orgasm. I clamped my eyes shut and gritted 
my teeth to avoid making any noise. As soon as the sensation started to
die down, I opened my eyes again, to make sure. 

	Phillip was there, on the street below the house. With the light from
the stoplight and the convenience store on the corner, he was easily 
recognizable. I froze, watching him. It was dark in my room; I was 
pretty sure he couldn't *see* me. Still, I started shaking at the thought
that he'd somehow been able to tell what I was doing. 

	I lay in my bed, unmoving, watching him for about ten minutes. He
just stood and looked up towards the house. I had to think he knew which
room was mine, or something. Eventually he turned and got into the car
he was leaning against and drove off. I sighed with relief. The *terror*
of those minutes had been overwhelming. I kept thinking he might try and
come get me while I was sleeping or something. Finally, I got up and 
crept downstairs to make sure all the doors were locked, so I wouldn't 
be up worrying about that, too. 

	I got back to my room, got under the covers, and slipped my hand 
up against my crotch again. This time, I didn't think about pirates.
Instead, I found myself imagining that Phillip was standing next to the bed
watching me, his grey-green eyes taking in every movement. The fantasy
was scarier than pirates; I came hard and drifted off to sleep, not waking
until the alarm startled me the next morning.


		    Inanna's Girlhood in Ancient Sumer
				Part Two


	I didn't see Phillip for a few days. I felt funny about it. Most 
of me was very afraid that some guy was watching me and knew where I lived
and stuff. Part of me, though, felt very curious and excited. I guess I 
felt a kind of specialness, even if it was for something like this. I thought
about telling mother or something. I knew that it was *right* thing to do,
"It's okay to tell" and all that. Finally, I decided I'd tell if he tried
to touch me, or make me do anything. I wanted to keep the secret all to 
myself for a while. 

	Wednesday before my birthday, mother made me call and cancel my
party. She said it was because I had made an Unsatisfactory in Science 
that marking period. I told most of the girls I had invited while I was
at school that day. I called the others when I got home. They were nice
to me on the phone and all, but I knew I'd be hearing about it for months
afterwards. I knew mother'd really only cancelled because of money, but
I wasn't stupid enough to let on. Pretending was better for everyone.

	After I got done with the phone calls, I cleaned out the dishwasher
and headed down to the park. Loftland wasn't much of a park -- just a field
next to the river -- but it was only two blocks from my house. Very few 
people went down there, since it wasn't really a nice part of town. I think
had my parents been paying attention, they wouldn't have let *me* go there,
either. I almost always had the place to myself. 

	Loftland's shaped like a bowl tilted towards the river. I came
up over the lip of it and saw what I'd hoped for: birds. Stretched out
across the part, some kind of flock was pausing in its migration south.
The field was full of birds, pecking at the ground or taking off in 
mini-flights and then landing again a few feet away. Birds are what I 
most hoped for when I came down to the river. 

	I stood on the edge of the part looking across the flock for a 
while. Then a car on the road beeped at me; startled by it, I took flight
myself, running down the hill and into the birds. I threw my arms out
behind me. It was times like this that I most hated my cropped hair. I knew
I just didn't *look* right, even with the fullish skirt I was wearing. 

	I ran down and across, parallel to the river, the birds scattering
into flight before me. The noise and the wings, the wind and the speed of
my own movement, all gave the momentary sensation I was rising with them,
fluttering off to perch in the trees near the water's edge. I veered left
as I neared the far hill of the park, running up to a big cube of concrete
that sat alone in the grass on this side of the field. My momentum gave 
me the boost to _leap_ up onto it, and I turned to watch the flock finish 
its ascent into the air around me. It settled across the river in the trees
as I watched. I was pleased with the effect I'd had. 

	I was enjoying the birds enough that I didn't hear steps until 
they were very close up behind me, a few feet from the other edge of the 
rock. As the swishing of the grass halted, I turned to look. I guess I knew
who it would be. Or maybe it's just that I had been hoping for it.

	Phillip smiled at me and put out his hand. Without thinking, I helped
him up onto the rock. He looked out across the river where I had just been 
watching myself, then back at me. 

	"Very pretty, Nan. Shame it's usually wasted...." he said, those
eyes making me look away and blush. I knew he was only talking about the 
birds, but somehow, the look was like he was talking about something else,
something private. I shuddered slightly, remembering how I touched myself
and thought of him. 

	Did you ever get the feeling someone was looking at you and seeing
all you'd done or thought, and *thinking* about it while they looked at you? 
Usually, in church, I thought God must do that. I did it with kids at 
school sometimes. I watched them so much that I knew why they did the things
they did. I could tell what they were going to do a lot. A few times, when 
I was angry, I told them, just to see that worried look they'd get. I was 
silly about it, though; when they asked, I said it was magic. 

	He was looking at me like that. I had a feeling he could tell _me_
what I was going to do, if it suited him. It scared me, standing there 
thinking of that. The rock was still pretty public, on the other hand. So 
I just stood there. When I felt less startled, I looked back up at him. 

	"Hi, Phillip!" I said, brightly, trying to sound like it was the
most natural thing to run into him there. "Nice day, isn't it?"
	
	He laughed then, like I expected him to. It make things feel better
fast. Less scary. 

	"Wanna talk to me again?" 

	I sat down on the edge of the rock, dangling my legs off the side.
I felt brave and excited for beating him to asking me. Still, I watched him
out of the corner of my eye. I could push myself off the rock and be running
across the grass faster than he could do anything funny. I knew a dozen
different routes between Loftland and home. I knew I could yell really 
loud, too. 

	He just stood there for a minute, before lowering himself to sit
next to me. I got the feeling he wasn't expecting me to be that easy to 
talk to. Maybe he knew I'd seen him watching me at night; that would be
enough to make most kids tell, I guess. Thinking about it, we were both 
even in some ways. 

	"What is this thing?" Phillip said, gesturing at the rock we 
were sitting on. 

	"Oh, hmm, I dunno. It's got metal pole parts sticking out of it,
like someone was going to build something and stopped." I paused to push
my glasses up on my nose and twine a lock of hair around one index finger.
"No one can live here, because it floods bad. So I guess there's nothing 
to do but make it a park. I think it must be really old. Over there," I
said, pointing to back the way I'd come, on the other side of the field, 
"is a hand water pump. The water's good. That's a mulberry tree next to 
it. The berries get eaten by the birds before you can get to them..."

	I trailed off, feeling stupid for going on again, about private 
things. I thought of of it as *my* pump, *my* tree, and this was, more 
than the other things, *my* rock. My place. I leaned back until my head 
was resting on the rock itself. I could see the sky, pale blue gray, the
sunlight already getting weak. Phillip dusted his hands on his pants and
leaned over so he was right in my line of sight.

	"Nan, you know, don't you?"

	"Know?" I said, and held my breath. I realized all of the sudden
that I couldn't jump up if I was lying down partway. I was afraid.

	Phillip looked up at the sky, then across at the river, then back
at me. I think he was afraid, too. Like I said, we were even. 

	"That I watch you. That I'm ....interested in you."

	I nodded, pressing the flats of my palms against the rock, still
afraid. "I saw you, yes. You scared me." I started to tell him that I'd 
told everyone, that my mother had called the police and they were going 
to come get him if he did it again, but again, I stopped myself. I couldn't
help it. Even though I was afraid, it felt _good_ to have someone like 
Phillip paying attention to me. He wasn't funny looking or wierd or anything,
the way you'd expect. He seemed to like me a lot. I didn't want to tell. 

	He looked at me for a while then. I felt like he was trying to 
decide what I'd do next. I sort of looked at the sky, then looked back 
at him a few times, until he said something. 

	"What were you doing? When you saw me, I mean?"

	"PHILLIP!" I squealed, and rolled over once, sitting up. I was 
blushing bright red. I felt like I couldn't breathe. "Nothing." I lied.
"I was lying in bed, thinking about school."

	He smiled, looking like the snake in Eden again. I blushed harder.
I started to get up and run, but ....well, I was embarrassed, but also
I felt good. 

	"Nothing? Just thinking?"

	"Yes! Just thinking. Thinking about school and sort of imagining
things...."

	"Imagining things? Really?" He smiled again, making me turn red
all over for the second time. I got the feeling he thought the way I was
describing it was funny enough that he had to try hard to keep from 
laughing at it. 

	"Yes. Just that. Imagining. Until I fall asleep. That's all."

	I didn't sound very convincing. Phillip smiled at me anyway. I
smiled back, even. He didn't seem like he was angry, or wanted to 
blackmail me. He was just interested in *me*. 

	"Mmm, well, if that's all it is. Maybe sometime you'll lie
in bed and imagine something about me...." He paused when he saw me
blushing *again*. "I'm sure you think of some pretty interesting 
stories."

	I nodded, too embarrassed to say anything to that. Just then,
Phillip pulled his shirt cuff back and looked at his watch. 

	"It's after 4:30, Nan. You have to go, yes?"

	I nodded. He got up before I did, brushed the gravel off the 
seat of his pants and held out a hand for me. I got down off the rock
and stood beside him. I felt like I should shake his hand or something, 
but before I could, he turned and stepped back a half dozen steps. Then
he paused and looked back at me. 

	"I wanted to show you a place some day. Maybe next week? I'll 
look for you in the usual places. We'll talk about it then, okay?"

	"Mmhmm, sounds good," I said, without even thinking. I grinned
at him suddenly and then turned and ran off back the way I'd come, up 
to the rim of the part and the sidewalk beyond. I didn't even check to 
see if he watched were I went. 

	I got back to the house on time. That night, I touched myself 
like I always did. I thought of Phillip, too. Every few minutes as I was
doing it, I opened my eyes long enough to see if he was out on the street.
He never showed up there, but I had a feeling he was thinking of me, 
whatever he was doing right then. 


		    Inanna's Girlhood in Ancient Sumer
				Part Three


	It drizzled rain day after day for almost a week after that day
on the rock. They wouldn't let us go out for recess at school. I wouldn't
have minded being out in the rain, but no one else was. At least, I didn't
see Phillip around. 

	I didn't see him again until the night after the rain stopped. I
was lying in my bed, listening to the sounds of the house creaking and 
settling. Everyone was asleep, from what I could tell. As it got later
and I still couldn't fall asleep, I started touching myself.

	After more than two weeks of thinking about Phillip, I'd come
up with some elaborate stories about him to think about while I was 
rubbing myself. I imagined that he convinced the office at school 
that he was my uncle, come to pick me up. They called me to the office;
I went and he was there, smiling his wicked smile, his eyes glinting 
bright at me as he tousled my hair and told them we had to hurry. Then
we went out to his car, and he opened the door for me, up front and all. 
I rode beside him in the front seat, past places I knew, far out into 
the country. Eventually, as I got closer to coming, he'd stop someplace
and pull me out of the car, and well, hurt me somehow, and then he'd 
take me forcibly, whatever that involved.

	I wasn't very clear on the details of the sex part. I mean, I 
knew then about how you *did* it. I knew all the names of the organs. I
always used them in my head when I was thinking about my body. When it 
came right down to it, though, I had tried to put things in myself
-- little things like small carrots -- and they didn't fit. I knew 
that penises were bigger than that, so I didn't think men like Phillip
could actually have sex with someone like me. Still, it was scary to 
think about it, and it made me come pretty fast. 

	I worried a little bit to myself that in my fantasy, I went 
along with Phillip. I felt guilty, I guess. I kept telling myself that 
I was ignoring everything I had ever been told about adults and sex.
I knew that if he _really_ came to the school, the right thing to do
was tell the office that he wasn't my uncle, that he was a man who
talked to me about private things and looked at me in embarrassing ways.
Eventually, I gave up thinking about it. I was taking a risk, but it
was worth it for now, as far as I could tell. 

	I turned over to go to sleep -- and there he was! Phillip was down
on the street, across from the house. He was leaning against the side of
his car, looking up at my window. I was embarrassed, but thinking about him
had made me bold. I sat up in my bed, so that I faced the window. Then I
waved out at him, to test if he could see me. 

	After a pause, he waved back. I fell back on the bed, blushing
red. I could feel the heat of it down to my neck and shoulders. I lay
there breathing fast and looking at the ceiling for at least five minutes.
When I sat up again, he was still there. I waved once more; he waved
right back again. Then he pointed down the street to where the church
was, and pointed at his wrist. I cocked my head to one side and tried 
to figure out what the wrist part meant. 

	Phillip pointed down the street again, and I nodded and waved 
fast to him. The wrist was his watch, so he must mean time, and the
church was easy. I worried suddenly at what my parents would think if 
they knew I was up making plans to meet a man after school. I looked
back up though, and Phillip was waving again. He turned to get into 
his car -- but turned back, the car door already open. He stood still and
looked up for a long time. The he stretched out his hands, sort of up
towards me. It was almost like a hug from a long way away. I smiled and
waved again, because I thought he probably couldn't see me smiling.
He got in his car and drove off. I fell asleep right after that.

	The next day seemed to drag by. I gave up being afraid of what
might happen when I saw Phillip. I was _waiting_ for it. I couldn't sit
still in Science, until finally Mr. Ward made a nasty comment about wondering
if I needed to go to the Little Daydreamer's Room and relieve myself. Then
I just sat and *glared* at him until the bell; after that, I walked 
out slowly, so he wouldn't get to yell at me for running. Once I reached
the bus lot I ran the rest of the way, down the driveway into the school
and then past Loftland park up the hill. I walked the last block, though.
I didn't want to be out of breath when I got to the church.

	I skirted around the back of the building itself, coming up
close along the side. I wanted to suprise him if he was there. When 
I reached the front and turned the corner, he wasn't there. Confused,
I sat down on the steps of the church to rest. No sooner had I settled
my dress around my knees then Phillip came around the other side and 
sat down next to me. 

	"Hello," he said, smiling at me. I giggled. 

	"You scared me! I was afraid you weren't coming."

	Phillip smiled again, but it was a different kind of smile,
tricky and secretive. "I wanted to suprise you, like I did last night.
I like the way you look when you're startled."

	I looked down at my hands and sat quietly for a while. I think
Phillip knew I was thinking of how to say something. I looked up at
him twice; both times, he was watching the cars go by. Finally, I just
sort of started talking without looking at him, so I wouldn't stop
before I got done.

	"You *did* scare me last night! I was thinking about, well, 
things, the way I do, and then I thought about you, and when I got 
done, you were there. It was kind of creepy, especially since..."

	"Since what?"

	I pulled my knees up closer to me and wrapped a strand of hair
onto my finger. "Well, I was thinking things about you that I don't
think you'd really do -- just imagining stories, you know -- and I
kind of feel bad about it, because you're so nice to me, and it's mean
to think someone would be that way..."

	"What way?" he asked me. He looked more serious than usual.

	I blushed. "Well, I was imagining that you...well, sort of
hurt me, or took me away. _Molested_ me, like in one of those after
school specials, only they don't show what happens, so I don't know,
really, but it was scary when I was thinking about it."

	I guess I was hoping Phillip would laugh then; we'd both laugh
about what a silly girl I was and that he wasn't mad at me for
thinking like that, but he'd never do it, because he's not like that.
Then I might have forgotten about the ideas, I think. 

	 Instead, he looked at me for a long time, like he did the
first day I met him. I looked back into his eyes, and I felt scared
for real, not like just suprised. His eyes were steel grey; he did 
not blink. Again, I felt like I wanted to cover my face and hide 
from what he was seeing. I didn't, though. When he talked, it was
very quiet. 

	"Ah. It's never good to assume what someone will or won't
do, Nan." He paused, still looking at me hard. "What did you think
about your imaginings?"

	It was like I was sitting in front of a snake, a cobra, 
and moving would make it strike. I was trying to answer and thinking
of a cartoon about a mongoose and snakes and a boy nearly getting
bitten, and someone saying "Be very still..." and I was. I just 
*couldn't* say anything, but I saw again in my head thoughts I had,
of Phillip, and he was wrapping his hands around my neck and pushing
me down to the ground, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was
still looking into his eyes as I clasped my hands in front of my 
neck and just turned red. I didn't answer him; I just sat there, 
my hands sort of fluttering around my neck nervously and my face hot
from blushing so hard. 

	He didn't smile. He didn't react at all, except to say softly,
"I see." I could tell then that he *did* see, and he knew what I
thought of, and what I did. There wasn't anything to say then. I
wanted to get up and run away, run very fast, so that he couldn't
catch me -- but I stayed. I felt like I was already caught. 

	A car driving by beeped loudly; Phillip looked up and like
in a story, the-spell-was-broken and I could breathe again. He looked
down at his watch.

	"It's almost time for you to go, Nan. I had wanted to show
you something, but I don't think we'll have time today, even though
it's close by." He stopped talking for a second, like he was thinking.
"Can you meet me tomorrow at the same time, at your water pump in 
the park?"

	I nodded. It felt good that he called it mine, too. Phillip
stood up first and held out his hand for me. I put my hand in his 
and got up, grabbing my bookbag with the other hand. His touch was 
soft, not like I imagined. I smiled at him and then stepped away. 

	"I'll be there, okay." I waved and then turned and half-ran,
half-skipped off, not worrying about him seeing how I went. I looked
back after I crossed the street, but he was gone from view.

	That night I was excited and couldn't sleep, even after 
touching myself a lot. I kept sneaking peeks out the window, but 
I didn't see Phillip at all. When I finally fell asleep, it was very
late. 


		    Inanna's Girlhood in Ancient Sumer
				Part Four

	
	I won't tell you how school was, because it was just the same.
When the day was over, I left as fast as I could and ran up to the
park. I could tell before I crossed it that Phillip wasn't there -- I
could see the water pump from the other side of the park, it was out
in the open. When I got to the pump, I noticed a piece of paper folded
and stuck under the handle. On the outside of the paper was a capital
letter "N", so I slipped it out from under the handle and unfolded it.

	Drawn on the paper was a neat little map. I recognized it
immediately as being the park and the blocks around where my house
was. A little bucket marked the water pump, a headstone marked the
church. Up the street and down a block from my house there was a
little castle drawn, with an arrow pointed at it. Completing the map
was a dotted path from the bucket to the castle, and cursive "P" at
the bottom of the paper. 

	I smiled to myself as I followed the map. I already knew where
it was leading me: an old house like the one I lived in, only bigger,
and all shuttered up. Kids called it haunted, even though no one ever
went there -- there weren't any scary stories about it, or anything.
It was just a big old house, always for sale, with lots of things
wrong with it. 

	The map led me around to the back door, which was open just a
crack. I felt like Nancy Drew on the cover of one of her books my aunt
had given me -- the picture of Nancy stepping into a dark house, with
a bright flashlight shining on a little of what might be inside. It
was just like that, opening the creaky door. It stuck a little so I
leaned on it and pushed until it opened the rest of the way, then
stepped inside.

	"Hello? Phillip?" I called. I didn't go any further in the
house because it was dark and my eyed needed time to get used to
it. After a moment, I heard sounds from above me. "Phillip? It's
me..."

	The noises became steps across the floor above me and then
steps on stairs. I moved forward into a neglected kitchen. It was
musty. Water dripped from the faucet and the floor creaked and made
crackling noises as the old linoleum gave under my feet. I came out of
the kitchen just in time to see Phillip coming down a big set of
stairs to my right. He was wearing a suit, deep grey in the dim light,
so that he looked shadowy and ghostlike as he moved smoothly down the
stairs.

	He paused three or four stairs from the bottom and smiled at
me. "Hello, Nan. I'm impressed that you found it so fast. Come."

 	He turned and remounted the stairs. I followed after him,
watching his shoes make prints in the dust. When we came to the top of
the stairs, he turned the corner and kept going, up *another* flight
of stairs. At the top of this one, he crossed the hall and then paused
in front of a door. While he pulled a key from his pocket and fiddled
with the door, I glanced around the hall, looking at the mess. There
were paint buckets on the floor, and dust *everywhere*. Finally, he
got the door unlocked and started to open it. 

	"No, wait," he said, shutting the door again before I could
see inside. "Close your eyes."

	"What? Is it a suprise?" I felt uncomfortable in the mess and
gloom. I liked to ready scary fantasy stuff for children, writers like
Corbett and Bellairs....but this was the real thing, and again I was
afraid of how far away from what I had been told was right I was
going. "Do I have to?"

	Phillip nodded. "Put your hand on the door frame, here, and
close them. When I open the door, you can step in and _then_ you can
open your eyes. I think you'll like it, Nan...."

	I did what he said. When I felt the air move around me as he
opened the door, I took three steps inside and then opened my eyes.

	Inside the room was like another world! It had deep blue
carpet, very deep and plush looking, laid out over most of the floor.
The walls were pale blue-grey. There were chairs and a daybed and one
corner of the room was a big round turret, with windows all around
and pillow of different sizes and shades of blue piled on the floor.
The light was soft because the windows had pale blue shades over them;
it looked like twilight.

	I just stood in the middle of the room looking and turning
around slowly. I was trying to understand why it was there, and what
Phillip meant by bringing me. I finally stopped and just looked at
him for a while, confused. 

	Phillip smiled and stretched out his hand, then flipped it
over smoothly, so that a blue ribbon hung from his fingers. On the
ribbon were two keys: one big and old fashioned, like the key to the
bathroom in my own house, and one smaller, like a house key.

	"Take them," he said, still smiling. "They're for you."

	I put my hand out, then pulled it back fast, like it had been
burned. "Phillip, *why*? What is this? It's not your house, is it? I
could get in trouble, Phillip. I like talking to you, but....I'm
afraid of this...."

	He moved towards me, still holding out the keys. I took a step
back, and then another. "Please, Nan? Take the keys?"

	"I'm going to leave now, okay? I like talking, but this is
scary. You can't just give me things like that! It's not...nice, or
something. How would I explain it?" I said, eyeing a path around him
to the door. This image flashed in my head, of me curled up in a bag
in a dumpster someplace, like this girl they found when I was visiting
my grandmother one summer. The blueness of the room was starting to
feel more and more gloomy and it hurt to breathe.

	Phillip flipped the keys back into his hand and dropped them
into his jacket pocket. He sat down on the couch and leaned his arm
back along the back of it. "Okay. Go. Walk out. I don't want you to
think I'm keeping you," he said, not smiling. Then he turned at looked
towards one of the windows. 

	I started to the door, then stopped. "Will you still talk to
me?"

	"Why should I? No." He was still looking away. 

	I stood there and thought. If I left, he said he wouldn't talk
to me again, but he might be trying to scare me. If I stayed...what if
I stayed? Something -- some unknown future scary thing -- might
happen. It might not, either. If I ever got caught, well, everyone
made a big deal about how it wasn't the kid's fault when adults did
bad things, you know? I had a feeling they wouldn't even yell at me,
because they'd be scared, too. Mostly my parents liked to be able to
look past me, have my comings and goings slide quietly through their
busy worried days. If something *happened*, they'd have to stop, and
they'd see how I nearly slid right on out of those days completely. 

	It felt like playing a game of Dare. Phillip was daring me to
leave, and I was daring myself to stay. 

	I walked back over to a chair and sat down. I looked across at
him; he was still looking away. 

	"Tell me why you made this place."

	Phillip shifted his weight in his seat, as if he was
uncomfortable with the question. He sighed and kept looking at the
window. "I will have to get you a view here. Staring at shades could
drive one insane."

	I knew enough to ignore the words and wait. I sat unmoving in
my chair, listening. I wasn't even trying to guess what he would say.
Eventually he pulled the keys out again and played with them in his
hands, pulling the ribbon taut and sliding they keys along it, or
spinning them in circles. He looked....tired, in a way...or at least,
not as grown up. 

	"I had wanted for you to have something that was yours, I
guess, from me, but something that you could have without anyone
seeing it or wondering...and I see you so much in your window that I
sometimes think of you like some fairy tale character...like Rapunzel,
or Sleeping Beauty, caught up in some place...." He paused to look at
me. I made sure I looked serious, so he didn't think I thought he was
being silly. 

	"I spend time with you in ways that would make people unhappy
if they knew about it, Nan. You're a very bright girl; you know that.
I wanted to make a place that was _safe_, a place outside of that
world, where maybe you and I could forget what people would think.
Sometimes, I guess, I'm a very unrealistic man. I wanted to make you a
palace. This is the best I can do for now, this place."

	I nodded. "Is that all? Just a nice place?"

	Phillip looked up at me. He watched me for a moment, then his
secret-thoughts smile slipped across his face. "No, that's not all, is
it? You know it's not, or else you wouldn't be so fearful. No, I don't
just want to sit safely. I wanted a place to be alone, to do the
things you desire, to teach you the secret things you dream about."

	I blushed. "You ....uh, yes, I know what you mean. How do you
know I want that?"

	"You're still here, aren't you?" He was smiling. 

	"I'm still here."

	"For now, Nan, I won't take or ah, try anything you don't
desire. If you're still here, I will take that as consent. Do you
understand?"

	I nodded again and looked at my feet. "Yes, I understand."
I thought for a moment. "Can I bring things here?" 

	Phillip was thoughtful for a bit. "I suppose so. Oh...wait.
Make sure nothing has your name or initials on it, okay? Or is one of
a kind, or something. It's a bit of a risk, but I'm willing to accept
it." He smiled, looking a bit happier, and ran his fingers through his
hair. As he put his hand back down, he glanced at his watch. "It's
after 4:30, Nan. You have to go?"

	"Oh! Yeah, I do." I got up from the chair and started to the
door. 

	"Nan?" 

	I paused. "Hmm?"

	"Catch?" Phillip said, and throw the keys at me. They fell at
my feet; my hand eye coordination was always bad, so I never tried to
catch things. I leaned over and picked up the ribbon, then put it
around my neck. He grinned at me, obviously pleased. "I'll be here
some days. From now on, we'll meet here, okay? I'll see you around..."

	I smiled back, nodded, and let myself out the door. I started
down the stairs slowly, but by the time I hit the second set of
stairs, I was taking them two at a time. When I let myself out the
back door, the brightness hurt my eyes. I paused a second, squinting,
then raced back home to do my chores. 


		
				Chapter Five

	Kick feet forward, legs out straight. Lean back, eyes closed.
Soar up, then pause, bend inward, and fall back down towards the
ground, over and over again. The wind blew over my face as I swung
back and forth over the playground; it was November now, cold enough
to make my nose red, cold enough for coats and wool skirts and
sweaters. I was daydreaming about Phillip as I rocked back and forth;
I felt warm inside.

	Abruptly, the swing stopped. I nearly fell out of it as I
recovered from the jerking caused by someone grabbing ahold of the
seat of the swing as I went past. I opened my eyes, dazzled for a
moment by the light. Next to me, Michelle was holding the side of the
swing, smiling smugly at me. Her eyes were icy blue, made more vivid
by her navy crewneck sweater. In front of me stood Mikki, blonde and
also blue-eyed. Two other girls stood behind her, snickering. She
glared at each of them until they were silent, then turned back to me. 

	"Hi...what's up?" I said, searching the girl's faces for clues
about what was going on. Mikki and Michelle were in my classes; they
were the 'popular girls', always getting elected or chosen or singled
out for praise. They didn't like me. In the summer, we were on the
swim team together; we were in Children's chorus and Girl Scouts, too.
All year long, every year, they teased me. 

	Mikki smiled sweetly at me and looked me over slowly, letting
her gaze fall to my feet before speaking. "*Hi*, Nan. Ugly shoes. Get
those at a yard sale or something?" Behind her, the other girls, also
blonde, giggled again. I looked down, blushing.

	The shoes were grey suede saddle oxfords with tan saddles.
I got them as a sort of birthday present, unwrapped and still in the
shoebox. They were not what I had pictured when asking for new shoes,
not what I had pointed out shyly in the store. Mother said I'd like it
better if I didn't look like everyone else -- this was wishful thinking
on her part, even though she tried to make it sound like a simple
fact. This often happened to me; my parents seemed to hear my voice
like a whisper in the back of their heads. They asked me questions, I
answered, my answers were ignored, or the results came out garbled,
key words confused. "Don't be so quiet!" they'd say to me. I would
repeat myself more clearly, but the results were always near misses.

	I looked back up at Mikki. "They were a gift. I like them
alright." I tried to sound proud of the difference. I didn't look 
back down, but I thought I could see where the conversation was going:
another taunting session. 

	"Mik, you can't expect Nan to have good clothes. After all,
she's not *perfect*, are you, Nan?" Michelle interjected. Mikki liked
teasing me, but Michelle -- sometimes I saw something very hard in her
eyes, something scary -- she shared something with Phillip, I guess.
There was a part of her that I could tell really wanted to be mean to
people, like she couldn't go even a day without it. 

	I shook my head in agreement.

	Mikki smiled, sweetly fake. "Nope, Nan's not perfect. On the
other hand, I think Our Little Girl Genius is out of control again,
isn't she, 'Chelle?" 

	The other girl nodded gravely. "That's what your father
thinks, Mikki. I guess you're concerned about it, aren't you?"

	"Well, I like to think the best of my classmates, so I'm sure
that Nan doesn't *mean* to ruin things for the rest of us...." Mikki
paused to look at me. 

	"Ruin things? I don't know..." I shrugged. I wanted to run,
but they were standing close, and people would have seen. It was
better to sit and listen quietly then draw attention and more kids.

	"Mikki's stepfather says..." Michelle began, only to be cut
off with a look from her fellow tormentor. 

	"Yeah, ruining things. We're all very smart, Nan, but you're
making some of us look bad." Mikki smiled tightly. "My father was just
pointing out to me the other night that if you keep showing off by
blowing the curve in our classes, some of your fellow classmates won't
be able to attend the colleges they should...after all, college
admissions people can't be expected to understand what we all had to
be put up with just because you wanted to be a teacher's pet."

	I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it again. There was no
use in trying to defend myself; it would just mean more teasing, until
I agreed that they were right, and I was wrong. 

	Michelle laughed at my silence. "Cat got your tongue, Nan?
Where's the right answer? A little off the game today?" The other
girls giggled again, but Mikki kept smiling at me, silent. 

	"It's like this," she started again, her voice soft and firm
and menacing, in a subtle way. It was a voice I was sure her parents
had never heard, our teachers never heard. "We're *stuck* with you,
you little priss, we can't get away from having you in classes. It's
bad enough that we have to put up with your prissy voice and your
tacky clothes and your stupid ideas and have you on teams in gym,
Nan. I *try* to endure you. Why, I've even tried to be *nice* to you,
haven't I, 'Chelle?"

	Michelle nodded, her face grim. "You thought about inviting
her to your pool party this summer. I was impressed. *Definitely*
above and beyond, Mik."

	Mikki took two steps towards me and leaned forward, until her
hands were resting on the chains holding the swing. I had to look up
to see her face. "Stop showing off, Nan. Stop making the rest of us
look bad. Right now, we're all putting up with you, but if you keep
making 100's, it's not going to be a good year for you. It's only
going to get worse...we all hate you, and we could make life pretty
unhappy for you, if we wanted to..."

	I felt stupid; my chin was quivering like I was a baby or
something. I couldn't think of anything to say. I wanted to yell at
her that I already *was* unhappy, that I didn't care if she hated me,
if everyone hated me, because I hated them right back -- but the
recess bell rang, and Mikki stood up, laughed, and started to turn
away. She paused to look at me, then down at me feet again. Squinting
slightly, her mouth in a tight mean smile, she stopped just long
enough to kick dirt up onto my feet and legs. Michelle snickered. The 
four of them strolled off across the wide space in front of the
swings, off towards the door. I waited until they were far enough away
that I couldn't hear them talking about me and got up to walk in
myself.  

	That afternoon we had Social Studies, and Mr. Whitt asked the
class questions about capitals. He looked at me a lot, expecting me to
raise my hand, but Michelle was watching me too, her eyes hard on mine
any time she thought I might be about to say something. I bit my lip
and kept my mouth the the whole time. After what seemed like hours,
the bell rang again and we got up to go home. I hurried to get my
bookbag and coat, so Mr. Whitt wouldn't have time to ask me what was
wrong. I knew he liked me, and wanted to be helpful, but he didn't
understand it was worse for me when he tried. 

	I went the back way to the haunted house from school, up
through the park. When I got to the back door, I pulled the blue ribbon
out from its secret place around my neck under my shirt and unlocked
the door, shutting it softly behind me as I entered the gloom. I ran
up all the stairs to my special room. As I stood in before the door
jiggling the key in the lock to get it to open, I wondered if Phillip
was going to be around. I hadn't seen him in a week. I was getting
used to having him disappear for a long time and then come back.

	The room was empty. No sign of Phillip: no notes, no presents,
nothing changed at all. I shut the door behind me and locked it. I
started to put my book bag down, then changed my mind and held onto it
until I had crossed the room and plopped down onto the pile of pillows
in rounded tower alcove. I lay back on the pillows and stared up at
the ceiling. It wasn't blue. I closed my eyes. In my head, I could
still see Mikki glaring at me. 

	I sat back up among the pillows, pushing them around to make myself
a little nest. I experimented with setting the pillows on edge to
build a wall around me, a little pillow fortress, but they wouldn't
stay up for more than a few seconds at a time. I settled for stacking
pillows two high all around me. I tried to vary the colors to make a
pattern: light on top of dark, then dark on light, then two medium
shaded pillows, then light on dark again. When I was done, I was
sitting crosslegged in the middle of a blue circle, my bookbag on my
lap. 

	I up-ended the bag in front of me, dumping it out on the floor
within the circle. Out fell my math book, my other books, paper bits,
pens and pencils, a button, my folders. The folders were plastic,
coordinated to the color of the textbook: my math book was red, my math
folder the same. For science, I didn't have a book, but I used a green
folder. Jumbled in with the books and folders were tests and quizzes,
returned with marks on them. Besides the written grade, some of the
papers had been stamped with red or blue ink, a smiley face and a word
or two -- something mostly older women teachers did. "Good Work!" the
stamps said, or "Great Job!". "Excellent!" That one was for 100's,
most of the time. If you did bad, you got frowny faced stamps with
other phrases, like "Work Harder" or "Needs Improvement". 

	I separated out some of the papers and stuffed the rest of the
books and things back in my bag. Then I heaved it over the side of my
pillow pile. I flipped through the tests for a couple of minutes,
reading over the written notes from teachers, looking at my tiny
handwriting filling the blanks. While I did, I twirled a lock of hair
around my left index finger and began chewing the ends off of it
thoughtlessly. When I was done looking over the last piece of paper, I
let go of my hair and carefully started tearing the paper up into tiny
squares. Each piece was smaller than a dime, as square as I could make
it. I got faster at tearing as I went along. In front of me, the pile
of papers grew into a mound of white confetti as I continued tearing.

	I finished and stared at the pile for a second, thinking of
what to do with it. I got an idea: I took pinches of the scraps and
began dropping them carefully onto the tops of the pillows. It looked,
I thought, like snow on mountaintops, making my circle some remote
valley, high in Tibet or Colorado. I had to get up on my knees to
finish, so I could turn around and get the pillows behind me. I took
care not to drop any of the paper snow on the floor -- I wanted all of
it arranged evenly across the pillows. 

	I had my back to the door, finishing up the last bit, when I
heard a key in the lock. I was so absorbed in tidying up the snow that
I didn't even pause to wonder if someone other than Phillip might have
a key. 

	Things happened very fast when the door opened. I turned
around to look just as Phillip, startled I guess to see me, stepped
in. A breeze blew through the room because of the open door; the air
made my paper snow swirl up from the pillows in places. Lots of it
fell off completely onto the floor. I made a little squealing noise 
and tried to cup my hands over the snow to keep it from moving, but
there was too much floating around at once. 

	"Pretty princess!" Phillip exclaimed, smiling at me, his eyes
soft instead of scary. There was a pause, then I started to cry. 

	"Look what you did," I said, half through sobs. "You *ruined*
it! You're so mean, I hate you, too. You've made a mess, you won't
ever leave me alone...." I yelled at him until I couldn't say
anything more because I was crying too hard.

	Phillip looked startled and confused. I don't think he had
been expecting me at all -- then I was there, and crying and yelling
at him, and he almost looked scared of me. I could see he was trying
to figure out what was going on, what had upset me.

	He paused just long enough to shut the door behind him and
then started towards me, his hands held out. "Ah, Nan, did I ruin your
game? We can fix it back," he said as he got closer. He was still
smiling, I guess a friendly smile -- but to me, it looked sort of
unreal, like Mikki or her stupid blonde friends, smiling as they made
fun of me. I had a sudden thought that I looked silly in my pillow
castle with paper snow, that Phillip thought that and was trying not
to laugh. 

	I looked up at him, standing there, secretly laughing at me,
and I had this feeling -- it was like a burning in my stomach, and
then my chest. I felt like I could not breathe. My mouth hurt; I was
biting the sides of my bottom lip so hard I thought I could taste
blood. I was so *angry*, I wanted to hurt him, or to hurt *someone*. 

	I grabbed up a pale gray-blue pillow without thinking and
threw it at Phillip. He was standing so close that I couldn't throw it
well. The pillow hit him below his waist, right at his crotch. I
screamed as I threw it: a tantrum sound, a fear and anger noise. I
*was* afraid, because as soon as I realized what I had done, I knew it
was a bad thing. 

	Almost before I could think that, Phillip was upon me. He took
one big step towards me, knocking pillows and snow everywhere. He
reached down and grabbed my shoulders and pushed them; I felt myself
tilted and falling until my head hit the floor outside the ruined ring
with a soft thud. My shoulders were pushed up higher than my head by
the pillows under them. Then Phillip fell on top of me, pinning me
against the floor that way. It all went so fast: one minute he was
smiling at me from the doorway, and the next thing I knew, he was
looming over me, his face closer to mine then I could ever remember
it, his eyes hard and bright. I could tell he was angry; it made
me fear him that much more. 

	"You little ..." he started, his voice low and more scary than
I had every heard it. There was this look in his eyes, like the first
day I met him. It was like Michelle had looked at me -- sort of mean,
a look that said he wanted to hurt something. He paused for a moment;
I think he was trying not to use swear words. "You little brat! You
are obviously operating under the mistaken delusion that you are in a
position to treat me with something less than respect, young lady.
This is *my* place, you are here at *my* whim. I don't know what
the ... what your problem is today, but there is *nothing* that merits
you throwing anything at me. Nothing, do you understand?"

	I nodded, trembling. I couldn't even cry, I was so afraid.
This, I thought, this is the part were I make him angry and he turns
bad, like Mr. Hyde, and he hurts me in all the ways I can't even think
of and puts me in a garbage bag, in pieces, in some dumpster. This is
why parents tell kids never to listen to adults like this. He's going
to kill me now.... I kept thinking that as he continued talking. 

	"Now, I will make explicitly clear to you what is going on,
Nan. I am in control here, in this place. By coming here, you agree to
that. You. Are. My.... Guest." He pushed against my arms and I squirmed
under him, instinctively trying to get away. As I did, a funny look
crossed Phillip's face, like he was remembering something he'd
forgotten. His eyes crinkled up a bit, and then he refocused them on
mine. "No, child, not yet, not today...soon, but not today..." he
said, and sat up abruptly, letting me up. 

	I couldn't sit up right away anyway, because of the pillows
under my back, so I didn't even try. I turned over to one side, away
from Phillip, and started to cry again, very hard. It seemed to me
that I cried for a long time; I kept crying even after he laid down
beside me and put his arms around me very lightly. I must have turned
over or else he moved the pillows, because when I stopped crying I was
facing the other direction, towards him. I opened my eyes and his
shirt was right in front of my face. There was a big wet spot on it. I
felt embarrassed as I realized it was my fault. That made me start to
cry again; finally, I calmed down somewhat. 

	Phillip was stroking my hair, saying things under his breath
that I couldn't hear. "Now, princess, little one, tell me why you are
so upset, hmm?" he said finally, so that I could hear him. The
question made my cry *more*, so that it was a while before I could
explain to him about the girls at recess, and my classes, and
everything at school.


-- 
                           Inanna/Leigh Ann
                         inanna@acca.NMSU.edu
 		       Member, IRC Elitist Five
                          Truth is the Dare.
