Black Pomegranate Page 2

  I didn’t bother to count the money. Not then, anyway. I just took what Cat proffered and stuffed it into my trousers pocket. Immediately after class, I phoned my mechanic and tell him to order the parts and get started. Soon, I’d be driving again.

  Two

  Tutoring

  CAT ARRIVED AT MY efficiency apartment about seven that evening to begin her tutoring sessions. I’d managed to catch a ride home, so didn’t have to walk the mile and a quarter uphill from the college, and finished dinner before she got there: a handful of Ritz crackers, a can of sardines in mustard sauce, and a diet Pepsi.

  We were having a heat wave of sorts, and Cat was dressed in a white halter and short shorts, exposing a lot of skin. I knew I was going to have trouble concentrating on teaching.

  She glanced around the room. The sight must have filled her with disgust, but Cat said nothing about the condition of the premises. My bed was unmade; clothes were strewn about; the sink was filled with dirty dishes; all ashtrays were overflowing; two paper bags of trash sat just inside the front door; books, magazines, and student papers were piled haphazardly on the coffee table; and about a quarter inch of dust covered everything. Let’s face it. I’m a slob.

  I removed a pile of dirty laundry from one of the folding metal chairs I’d recycled the last time I went Dumpster-diving and slid the chair next to mine, in front of the computer.

  “Well, are you ready to get started?” I asked cheerfully.

  “I suppose so,” she replied. “Thank you, Professor Hobson, for consenting to take me on as your private student.” Cat’s smile could melt the snow off Mount Everest.

  I tried not to appear salacious, but being alone with Cat in my apartment was already giving me improper ideas. Deep, dark, deliciously moist erotic fantasies.

  “Please, Cat. Call me Professor Hobson only in the classroom,” I intoned intimately. “The rest of the time, I want you to use my first name—Alfred.”

  “Such a beautiful name,” she purred. “In my country, we would call you Alfredo. May I have your permission to do so here?”

  The way Catarina said Alfredo sent shivers up my spine. Perhaps my parents hadn’t been as cruel as I’d always thought. I nodded yes like a bobble head in the rear window of an old Chevy, and hoped she would repeat my name a thousand times more in her sultry accent, though I wasn’t sure how long I could take the divine torture without scooping her up in my arms and confessing how much I wanted her. Down, boy, I told myself. Back to reality.

  “Please sit here,” I instructed. “No, wait a minute. You’ll get your clothes dirty.” I wiped the dust and a sticky smudge of grape jelly from the chair with one of my soiled shirts. “Okay, now it’s okay to sit down.”

  She seemed fascinated by the screen saver on my computer monitor. It was making multicolored patterns like those in a kaleidoscope.

  “How much do you already know about computers?”

  “Oh, I know lots about computers. They have cute little TV screens and keyboards like typewriters. I’ve seen many computers in my country.”

  Well, I sighed, that’s a start. For the next half hour I explained the purpose of the various components and peripherals—the monitor, the CPU, the disk drive, the mouse, the printer, the modem. Cat was very attentive, nodding as I spoke as if hanging onto every word, but she took no notes.

  When I finished with my impromptu one-on-one lecture, I asked, “Do you have any questions?”

  Cat’s answer was immediate. “Yes. Do you have anything to eat? I’m hungry.” There was a pained expression on her face.

  I thought for a moment. If I remembered correctly, there was half a quart of milk in the refrigerator, but I was sure it had soured a couple of weeks before. There were a few containers of leftovers of some kind, but I’d forgotten what they were. Take-out Chinese, most likely. Some had grown a fuzzy green mold. I’d eaten all the crackers and the sardines, and was also out of tuna.

  “I may have a can of pork and beans in the cupboard,” I replied. “Will that do? If not, I can have a pizza brought over.”

  “I think I’d prefer the pizza. And a salad and something to drink. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. All I have to do is make a phone call.”

  I admit I was concerned about the cost. The tutoring money she’d given me barely covered the estimate for getting my car repaired, and I knew the mechanic would undoubtedly find dozens of other expensive things that needed to be done before I’d be able to drive it again.

  “Please,” she requested. “Keep teaching me about computers. If you don’t mind, I’ll straighten things up a little before the pizza arrives.”

  I really wasn’t too keen on the idea. I didn’t see how Cat could learn anything if she wasn’t listening attentively and taking copious notes. On the other hand, I’d completely run out of clean dishes the previous week, and if she wanted to spend her tutorial hours doing my housework, who was I to complain?

  By the time the delivery man knocked on the door, Cat had washed all the dishes and pots and pans by hand, and cleared the dinette table of a month’s accumulated debris. I paid for the pizza and was rewarded with a sneer for my fifty-cent tip.

  The pizza was much too large for one person, so although I’d already dined, I sat down at the table with Cat and ate a couple of slices.

  It was time for her to take a break, anyway. A person can absorb only so much knowledge at a time. Besides, I wanted to learn more about her.

  “Where are you from, Cat?” I began. “You mentioned you’re from another country, but I don’t remember which one.”

  “Granada Negra. You’ve heard of it?” she asked, one beautiful eyebrow arched hopefully.

  I had to admit I hadn’t.

  “Granada Negra is a republic in Central America,” she announced proudly.

  I still didn’t know any more than I did before I asked. Rather than appear ignorant—or possibly even stupid—I changed the subject. “Why did you decide to come to Timberline College, of all places?”

  I thought I detected a touch of terror in her eyes. “As I mentioned this afternoon, my country is in a state of revolution. In our part of the world, revolution is the national pastime, much like basketball is here in the United States. Perhaps it has something to do with the chile peppers in our diet.

  “My father, Mario Perez, is el presidente of Granada Negra. When the revolution began, he sent my mother to France and me to the United States. Papa knows that until things in my country settle down, our entire family will be in great danger. He decided it would be safer if mother and I went to different countries. That way, we could not both be killed at the same time.”

  “I understand,” I said, though I really didn’t. It was inconceivable why anyone would want to murder someone as beautiful as Catarina. “But, why are you here at Timberline?” I pressed.

  She laughed. “My father knew that a small, insignificant college like Timberline would be the last place an assassin would look for me.”

  I grunted. She was right, of course. “Your father … where is he now?”

  Cat’s lips quivered as she spoke. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to contact him since I arrived in the United States. He may be dead.”

  I wanted to take Cat in my arms and tell her I would protect her with my life, but I knew the regents would consider that gesture to be inappropriate touching and cause for immediate dismissal.

  Cat started sneezing. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s my allergies. It’s all the dust, I think. Perhaps your cigarette smoke, too. Would you mind, Alfredo, if I continued cleaning while you tutor me?”

  “I…uh…okay. Sure.” For the first time in my life, I was embarrassed by my natural habitat. “But, do you think you can remember what I tell you if you don’t take any notes?”

  She smiled broadly. Her teeth were straight and perfectly formed and the whitest I’d ever seen. “Of course. I have a photographic memory. Test me on anythin
g you’ve said. You’ll see.”

  I did ask her a few questions. To my surprise, Cat had all the answers down pat.

  By the time the evening was over, I’d covered much more ground than I thought I would be able to in one session, and Cat had cleaned my entire apartment. It looked as good as it did the day I moved in. Perhaps even better.

  “I know it’s late, but I’m going to give you a couple of assignments. The rest of the class has already finished them. If you’re not too tired when you get home, do what you can.”

  “I have an even better idea,” she told me. “I can tell you’re quite tired—I can see it in your eyes—but I’m still alert. I don’t require much sleep. If you’ll permit me, Alfredo, I’ll take your clothes to the laundromat and they can be washing and drying while I study.”

  “Really? You wouldn’t mind?” I asked incredulously.

  “Of course not. You were kind enough to agree to tutor me instead of taking the time to do your chores. It’s the very least I can do.”

  After Cat left, I kept marveling at my good fortune. I was being paid for tutoring the most beautiful woman in the world. She’d cleaned my apartment thoroughly and was doing my laundry. Was I asleep and dreaming? Had I died and gone to heaven?

  I had a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it wasn’t indigestion. Something wasn’t quite right with our budding relationship. I was sure Catarina wanted more from me than just tutoring, and I was afraid to find out what it was. But, among my other negative attributes, I was selfish. Until her true motives were revealed—I knew sooner or later the axe would fall—I decided to reap the benefits she was bestowing on me. Had I known what Cat really had in mind, I would not have been so euphoric; but I was mesmerized by her charms and lulled into a false sense of security.

  Three

  Liquid Fire

  WHEN I DISMISSED my Computer 101 class, Cat waited for the other students to leave the room. She appeared to be organizing her books and papers, but I knew she was stalling until everyone else had gone so she could speak with me privately. College students love to gossip and spread rumors, and we were aware there could be dire consequences for both of us—especially me—if we were suspected of having an affair. We weren’t, of course. Not then. But, neither of us wanted to take any chances.

  “Professor Hobson—”

  “Yes, Catarina?”

  “You treated me to dinner last night. Tonight, I want to cook for you. At your apartment. A special Granada Negra meal. I will bring all the ingredients.”

  I tried to maintain a professional demeanor, but my heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it would burst. “I’d like that. What time will you be over?”

  “I don’t have any more classes today. If you’ll let me borrow your key, I can go to your apartment now and get started. Besides, I have a trunk full of your laundry to deliver.”

  The rest of the afternoon crawled at a snail’s pace. Then, I couldn’t find anyone driving my way and had to walk home. It was another scorcher, and I was sweaty and tired when I dragged in.

  “Hello, Alfredo,” Cat greeted cheerfully. She was wearing a pair of pink shorts and a matching tank top—no bra. I could clearly see the outline of her prominent nipples.

  “Hi, Cat. What are you cooking?” I asked. “It smells heavenly.”

  “Camarones con arroz y vegetals—shrimp with rice and vegetables. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. You look hot. Why don’t you take a shower and freshen up? There’s plenty of time.”

  “That’s a great idea!”

  “I ironed your shirts and hung them in the closet, and folded the rest of your clothes and put them in your dresser.”

  “You didn’t have to do all that.” I never ironed my shirts, but wore them just as they came from the dryer.

  Her eyes twinkled. “I know. But I wanted to please you, Alfredo.”

  Although Cat had cleaned my apartment more than adequately the day before, she had gone over everything again. She’d even scrubbed the bathtub and cleaned the windows. The entire place was spotless. Clean towels were hanging on the racks in the bathroom and the bed had been made up with fresh sheets and pillowcases. A vase of flowers sat on the dinette table. What had I done to deserve so much of Cat’s attention? I didn’t want to ask, afraid my good fortune would end as quickly as it had begun.

  After I showered and shampooed and dressed, Cat informed me dinner was ready. We sat down and I helped myself to large portions of everything.

  “I think you should go a little easy on the salsa,” she advised. “Take a very small taste first.”

  I was overly confident. “I love guacamole,” I told her, putting a large spoonful of the green spread in my mouth.

  “That’s not—”

  I didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. My head was exploding. I quickly downed an entire glass of ice water, but that only seemed to add fuel to the conflagration. “Holy cow! What is this?” I finally managed to choke out.

  “I tried to warn you,” she giggled. “That’s not guacamole, even though it looks about the same. It’s a salsa made with habanero chiles. They’re two hundred times hotter than jalapeños. Even we who are used to habanero salsa call it liquid fire.”

  “That’s certainly an appropriate name. I think I’ve cauterized my tonsils. Is the rest of the food as spicy?”

  “No. Go ahead and try it.”

  I did, and everything was delicious. I even had a bit more of the habanero salsa.

  Cat had made flan for dessert, which she served with a dark, rich, coffee. “This coffee was grown in Granada Negra,” she boasted. “I hope you like it.”

  I took a sip. The coffee was strong and pleasant. “I do. You’re certainly making me want to visit your country,” I told her. “After the revolution is over, of course.”

  “Of course.” Her eyes sparkled. My flattering comment seemed to please her.

  Cat insisted I start the evening’s tutoring immediately after dinner, while she did the dishes. I was again concerned because I felt she wouldn’t be able to pay attention to me while cleaning the kitchen, but Cat seemed to grasp everything I said.

  I reviewed her homework assignment and could find no mistakes. At the rate Cat was catching on to computers, the tutoring would soon be unnecessary. Would she still want to see me then? I wondered. I’d have to figure out a way to extend her visits.

  “Tomorrow is Friday. I never tutor on Friday nights. But I would like to take you out to dinner. To a little Continental restaurant in San Bernardino. It’s called Maurice’s. The food is outstanding, and they have an excellent wine list.”

  “That sounds wonderful, Alfredo.”

  “There’s just one thing. My car’s still in the shop. Can we use yours?”

  “Certainly,” Cat agreed. “But—” She paused and looked at me expectantly.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, if we’re going to go out to a fancy restaurant, wouldn’t you like me to cut your hair first? I’m really quite good at it.”

  It had been nearly six months since I’d seen a barber. I guess my hair was looking pretty unkempt. What harm could she do? “Sure. When do you want to cut it?”

  “How about now? While you’re telling me more about computers?”

  So I continued the lesson, even demonstrating what I was saying on my computer while Cat gave me a haircut. From time to time, I felt her hot breasts brushing against my back. It took all my willpower to keep from turning around and smothering them with kisses.

  Cat finished and told me to look in the mirror. I was flabbergasted. Cat hadn’t just trimmed my hair, she’d styled it. I’d never thought of myself as being good looking, but the difference in my appearance boosted my ego a hundred percent.

  “Is it all right?” she asked expectantly.

  “You did a fantastic job,” I complimented. “Cat, you’re absolutely amazing. Is there anything you can’t do?”

  “If there is, I haven’t discovered it yet,” she replie
d smugly. “Now you don’t look like a computer nerd—uh, I mean, a computer programmer. You look like a Prince Charming!”

  What a difference Cat had brought to my life in just two days! First to my apartment., and then to me. For the first time in my life, I felt a strong sense of self-worth.

  I wondered what else was forthcoming. Did Cat see me as clay to be molded to her personal specifications? As a diamond in the rough, to be cut and polished? I could not figure out what possible appeal I could have for this exceptional woman—a woman who could easily win the heart of any man in the world.

  No, there had to be something more. Something Cat was holding back. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. No woman could possibly be as perfect as Catarina, and no woman as perfect as Catarina appeared to be could possibly be interested in a zhlub like me.

  We continued on the computer until after eleven.

  “I’d better go now,” she said. “You look tired. Do you have any homework for me tonight?”

  “No. Not tonight. Get a good night’s rest.”

  I walked her to the door. On the way out, she turned and gave me a hug and just the slightest peck on the cheek. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow night, Alfredo,” she murmured in my ear.

  “I am too, Catarina. More than you know.”

  She squeezed me again and was on her way down the stairs. I watched longingly until she climbed into her car and drove off down the road.

  WHEN SHE CAME to pick me up, Cat was wearing a sky-blue silk pantsuit and looked like a million dollars. I was glad I’d shaved and put on a dress shirt and even a tie. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a tie around my neck.

  “Alfredo, do you mind if I use your telephone to call my Uncle Carlos before we go? It’ll be too late by the time we get back. Perhaps he has received word about my father. I’ll put the charge on my credit card.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. Go right ahead,” I told her.

  While Cat phoned her uncle, I busied myself at the computer, so I wouldn’t appear to be eavesdropping. But, that gesture was totally unnecessary. She spoke to him only in Spanish, and I couldn’t understand a word she said.