The Whisper Box Page 3

  While Aaron was stirring his steaming hot coffee he replied, “Yeah, I was 'Condition Political' in the 'Republicans Only' chat room. Do you want to know all the dirty details we talked about?”

  A dejected Miles loosely answered, “You got soft on me sometime in our late twenties man. You let me down. The naughty chat rooms are the best. Live chat with these hot, horny chicks, how can you not be the least bit curiou...”

  Aaron interrupted, “How do you know these chicks are hot and horny? You told me last week you were talking to some chick that said she looked like Julia Roberts! C'mon Miles - you really think she looked like Julia Roberts? No. She told you that because you'll never see her. You told me some chick was jerking off while talking to you. How was she typing ooooohhhhs and aaaahhhs while her hands were busy? C'mon man...I think you got soft on me somewhere in your late twenties.”

  Aaron looked away. Miles just turned around and left mumbling something.

  Aaron's day was a terrible one. He ran a small mortgage company that targeted people with financial problems. All day he dealt with people telling him their sob stories about why their credit was so bad. He listened to their complaints, refinanced their house to prolong the inevitable bankruptcy, gave them a ridiculously high interest rate, and went home with a headache everyday. Today's headache would be worse. The clock moved like molasses on a cold day. He counted seven different occasions when he dozed off at his desk. He tried to make his phone calls and get his files in some kind of order but his mind kept wandering. After just one night, he knew why this “Chat” stuff was so popular; he had made new friends across the country in a matter of minutes. He could not wait to get home and go on-line again. Miles checked in from time to time to laugh at his tired friend; he could have done without the laughter today. He was too tired and not in the mood.

  When the phone on his desk lit up, the first few rings did not produce a response. He could hear them, but his brain could not process exactly what it was. After the fourth ring, the neurons finally got the message through, “You are sleeping again! Answer the phone!”

  He jumped, grabbed the phone, and said, “International City Bank. Can I help you?”

  “You better!” said the voice, “I'm sitting here with Johnny Martin waiting on your call! Are we not important enough? Are you that busy?”

  Aaron looked at the clock. It was twenty after three in the afternoon. He was supposed to have called his boss, who was with his boss in Raleigh to discuss the upcoming quarter at three o'clock today. He had slept through it.

  Not good, he thought, as his mind raced to create an excuse. Aaron answered, “Damn Rick, I've been trying to beep you for an hour now from my car, I was hit from behind on my way back from lunch. The cop took forever, the tow truck took forever, and I just got in the office. I'm sorry guys, it's been one of those days.”

  The excuse went over well. Aaron could not believe he had just lied to his boss AND the “Big Boss”, Johnny M80, as they called him. Johnny Martin was as big of a big cheese as you could find in International City's corporate structure. Aaron was slightly embarrassed but they moved on with their conference call.

  The day came to a quiet end. Aaron just wanted a pillow. His mind began to change about the Internet tonight. He needed sleep. At quarter after six, he pulled into his driveway. Emily had a piping hot plate of lasagna ready for him in the kitchen and the two of them sat down to a nice peaceful supper. The kids had gone to Grandma's house for the night. This was something they did from time to time just so everyone could keep their sanity. After dinner they moved to the couch. Aaron fell asleep within five minutes, with his head in his wife's lap, as she stroked his hair. He knew he had found himself a winner of a wife. She had always come across as caring, loving, and nurturing.

  The cat clawing at the couch woke him up just as the phone did earlier in the day. He heard a scratching sound. It did not register in his brain for at least thirty seconds. His eyes popped open. The television was off; he was alone on the couch. Emily probably had not been able to wake him, so she went off to bed alone. He squinted to make out the clock, which read three o'clock. Suddenly wide-awake, he instinctively reached for the remote before realizing there was nothing on television at this hour.

  “What the hell”, he thought aloud, “may as well check out the Internet.”

  Aaron tiptoed down the hall past his bedroom and into the office not wanting to wake up his wife. A slight rush passed through his body as he sat down in his leather chair; this was what he was waiting for all day. A few clicks across the screen and he was on-line. Again he clicked on the “Chat” icon, and started toward the “R” section to get into “Republicans Only." He was scrolling through the alphabet, and just about to get to “R”, when under “P” he saw “Passion Pit.” Miles was probably in there right now. What a waste, what a crock, but what the hell? He clicked and entered just to see what this was all about.

  Just like the Republicans Only room, he was asked to select a nickname. “Condition Political” would not cut it here. He thought and thought until it hit him. He typed in R-E-P-U-L-I-C-A-N-S-T-U-D, clicked “GO”, and he was in. Words started zipping across the screen from left to right. It was mostly dirty flirting going on. Some guy named “HAMMER” kept suggesting that a horny woman come “get on his rod.” Others requested cybersex in a “whisper” box. He had no idea what a whisper box was. He was sure he would find out though. This was actually kind of funny. These people were so lonely they had resorted to this. Just then, a new screen popped up. The new screen was headlined with: You have a whisper from: LadiesFirst.

  This was a classy name, he silently judged. It was definitely better than 'WETWANDA' or 'JUICYLUCY'. He had seen those already. So this was a whisper box.

  LadiesFirst wrote: Hi RepublicanStud, with a name like that, you must have a little class. Hmmmm?

  RepublicanStud answered: Why yes, I do. I'm not really a sex chat room type of guy. This is my first time here. I guess I was a little curious. Do you come here often?

  LadiesFirst: Yes, but I DO NOT have cybersex!!! I just like to talk to other guys, sometimes we get a little dirty, some conversations get “R” rated, but, what the hey, we're all grown up, right?

  RepublicanStud: I can respect that. What are you doing up this time of night?

  LadiesFirst: My husband travels a lot, I'm feeling slightly frisky, shall we say, so I got on the Internet to flirt with men. Are you married?

  RepublicanStud: Yes, I'm ashamed to say. I feel guilty even being in this chat room with my wife asleep in the next room.

  LadiesFirst: Totally normal feeling, that's why I don't have cybersex. My husband is a real ass, I should have cybersex all night long, but it's not my cup of tea. I'm in my fifties and I feel it. I guess it's time for me to slow down. How old are you?

  RepublicanStud: Thirty-Seven. Too young for you?

  LadiesFirst: Of course not sweets. What would your wife do if she caught you in a sex chat room?

  RepublicanStud: That would not be good. Let's leave it at that. Why, what would your husband do?

  LadiesFirst: My husband knows a lot of people. He is wealthy and powerful in his field. It would be embarrassing for me. He might beat me again. All of his friends would ruin my life, let's put it that way. Is that a good enough answer?

  The conversation just became real. The woman's husband obviously beat her. Aaron felt a twinge of heartache for his new friend. He responded back to her, trying not to dwell on what she just said.

  RepublicanStud: Should I leave you alone then?

  LadiesFirst: No, he's on the road again, will not be back until Thursday. I go with him a lot but get left behind sometimes. I'd rather be left behind honestly. He knows that I know a lot of things that would get him in trouble with the people he works for, so to speak. He knows I could ruin him. He probably doesn't want me there. But, forget about my sympathy speech. Tell me about you. I know you are a Republican. What else is there to know?

  Repu
blicanStud: First of all, I am THE republican. I hate Farnsworth and all his crap. Secondly, I'm a banker; I have two beautiful kids and a great wife. That's me in a nutshell. What about you?

  Ladies First: Well, let's see, keeping with the political topic, I'm also Republican, married and have one adopted daughter. She gets more confused about the political parties as she grows up. My husband is a Democrat. We actually have arguments over political issues while in bed. No wonder I'm in the naughty chat rooms, hmmm. I also hate Farnsworth and his crap, I believe that he's a liar, a cheat, and I hope he goes down one day soon.

  Aaron was almost numbed by what he just read. This seemed like the woman of his dreams. She was exactly like him. He could not believe there was another person, a woman no less, who shared his strong opinion. They would have to speak again.

  RepublicanStud: Wow! What a woman! Ha ha. Think he will ever get what's coming to him?

  Ladies First: Yeah, I do...sooner or later.

  RepublicanStud: I think the country has let go, so to speak, of all their harsh feelings for him and the infidelity. The economy is too good. It seems as if he is going to get off free.

  Ladies First: He won't get off. There are people in the government that will see to it. I firmly believe that our government is stronger than that. If they see an injustice they will correct it when the time is right. But forget the government for now. Did you forget we were in a sex “chat” room?

  RepublicanStud: Are you propositioning me????

  Ladies First: Not yet.

  Republican Stud: Threat or promise?

  Aaron actually became somewhat aroused. This woman had pushed all his buttons. She seemed like an educated, self-sufficient woman. He never expected to find a woman like this in one of these rooms. He thought it was time to go. He felt cheap and easy. He could not believe he was getting flirtatious with a computer, in the dark, all by himself. This is what he had preached to Miles for so long. He felt like a loser.

  LadiesFirst: No comment. So were you a little frisky when you came in this room until my boring conversation subdued you?

  RepublicanStud: Let's just say I was a tiny bit frisky when I entered the room and now I am very frisky. Unfortunately for me though, I must bid you farewell. I must get to sleep. Will I speak to you again?

  Aaron did his best to end the written conversation. Although he thought highly of his new friend, the conversation had potential to become more. He did not think he wanted any part of that.

  LadiesFirst: I really enjoyed our conversation and I wish you could stay longer. Maybe I'll get some sleep too. I am in this chat room frequently when my husband is on the road. I am always LadiesFirst, just look for me. Whisper me whenever, you are very sweet. Good night.

  RepublicanStud: Hey wait.

  LadiesFirst: Yes?

  RepublicanStud: Actually, I hate to sound like a party-pooper but this room is not really what I had in mind as a 'hangout,' so to speak. Do you ever go to the Republican room in the Yahoo chat rooms?

  LadiesFirst: No. Is it good?

  RepublicanStud: Yes, very good. Why don't you go in there from time to time? I used to be under the name Condition Political, but I'll stick with RepublicanStud just for you, haha.

  LadiesFirst: You got a date Mister Stud. Tomorrow sound good for you? Maybe 11pm or so?

  RepublicanStud: I'll be there with bells on ma'am. G'night.

  LadiesFirst: OK, g'night.

  Aaron snuck into his bedroom, hit the pillow and stared at the ceiling for a while. He had a crush on this anonymous woman. He felt like a teenager again. He fell asleep within minutes.

  The alarm went off as it had the day before. It stunned him, and it was much too soon. He dragged his way out of bed down to the coffee again.

  Emily met him at the kitchen entrance and said, “Baby, did you not sleep well? You don't look good at all.”

  Emily was the most compassionate woman he had ever met. That was the sole reason for Aaron falling in love with this Southern Belle. No matter what the circumstance, no matter what the reason, she was there with a comforting grin and a Band-Aid whether it was for the skin or the soul. He was up again all night and felt horrible.

  He responded with no hesitation, “I'm fine, just a headache.” He kissed her and felt somewhat guilty before making love to his steaming coffee. How could he go to work like this again?

  The last week of Aaron's life had been hell. There was a lot of action at the office. Numbers were down for the quarter, and there was undoubtedly an imminent hell to pay. Sometimes he wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew by accepting this position. Each month, he managed to put up numbers good enough to keep his job, but he never really felt like he had job security. On top of the stress and pressure at the office, he and Ladies First were developing a nice little relationship, adding more stress for two reasons: He was staying up all hours of the night and he was hiding it from his wife and kids. Ladies First acted very down to earth though, which made him feel a little better. After all, he was not having cybersex. They talked about life, politics, and they flirted with each other from time to time. Their strongest bond was founded on their shared hatred for their country's leader. For hours, they would talk about the President and his shortcomings. She impressed him with her knowledge of the government. Each day Aaron felt like he could not wait to get home, to get to his computer, to get to LadiesFirst. His new friend was all that was on his mind. In spite of the guilt that he felt, he kept returning to their meeting place in cyberspace where he and LadiesFirst would rendezvous.

  He was sitting at his desk when Miles came storming into the office like he had so many times before. Aaron reminded Miles to knock, but like most requests, he ignored it.

  “I'm sorry man. I know I gotta' knock, but this one is worth it! Turn your radio on!” barked Miles.

  “What could be so important? Free food and drink at Miss Velvet's tonight or something?”

  Miss Velvet's was the dirtiest strip club in town. The entertainers were totally naked all day and night, making it one of Mile's favorite watering holes. He tried repeatedly to get Aaron to come along after work. Aaron wanted to on several occasions but never did.

  As Aaron was envisioning this, Miles moved towards the radio. “If you won't turn it on, I will. I promise this is going to make your month!”

  He flipped the radio on to 560AM. He knew this was Aaron's favorite radio show with Rush Limbaugh, the Republican activist who also happened to be Aaron's hero. Rush's voice sounded charged today. You could hear the excitement in it. They turned the radio on in the middle of the news-breaking story so it took Aaron a minute to catch on. President Farnsworth had been caught with his pants down, literally, but there was no proof. The rumors were swirling and one of those media salivating, high profile, CNN-invading cases was waiting in the distance. Last night Laura Greene, a middle-aged White House Aide in 1996, told The New York Daily Reporter, New York's biggest newspaper, that she knew many incriminating things about the President. She said she knew things that would not only have him impeached, but also disbarred, jailed, and maybe even assassinated. At this time, she would not give out much information; she obviously knew how to play this game and she was seemingly playing it well.

  Aaron was motionless as he listened to the radio. He smile grew wider as he listened. He listened to Limbaugh all day. Imaginations across the country must have been sparked that day. What could be so bad? Was it true? Would he walk because he is the President and can get away with things that would put others in jail for life, or at the very least, get them fired from their job? Soon, his impatience took over his mind. He could not wait to speak to Ladies First tonight.

  4

  Laura Greene would sit back and wait. She would put up with the non-stop media torment. She would have her phones disconnected. She would ignore the vulture like reporters who camped out in front of her tiny Manhattan apartment waiting for a comment. If necessary, Laura would live the life of a hermit until someone
finally offered her a financial package she could not turn down. Her asking price was in excess of three million dollars.

  She also knew that the FBI would be beating her door in soon, probably within forty-eight hours. She assumed it would take some processing of some legal paperwork and then they would appear in grandiose fashion. She could already predict it. They would likely have four or five agents, all dressed in suits with the same dark glasses. They may even tip off the media to get their faces on the tube. The FBI was more than just a government agency serving to protect the country, it seemed. Its members always appeared hungry for the so-called fifteen minutes of fame, and grabbed for it whenever they got a chance. Laura, however, fully expected to receive an offer from some major media outlet before the government got involved.

  It was at the law offices of Hart and Hart, in Sleepy Hollow, a small suburb of New York City, where the most wanted woman in America showed up. G. McFarland Hart, III had always been a damn good attorney. He seemed like a rock solid man. She had always admired him. When she had worked in the mortgage business almost twelve years ago, he was a dream come true. He helped her out of jam after jam because he must have valued her business.

  When she walked in the door, the poor office clerk's jaw almost fell off of his frail frame. He, too, was probably listening to the radio and watching the television and had just seen her face on Channel Five about two minutes ago. Her attractive frame and long brown hair were unmistakable. Her hair was one long natural flow that could not decide if it wanted to curl or not. Her lips were also unmistakable. They were thicker than most women’s, and there was a sense of urgency to them. Their thickness was sexy. Her eyebrows were perfect with no manicuring needed. One eyebrow always seemed cocked. This made her look deviant which added to her attractiveness.

  Michael the office clerk was a Democrat, she could tell by the bumper sticker tacked up behind him that read, Connely For Congress. He found the strength to whisper. “Can I help you ma'am?”