Page 59 of Guardian's Instinct


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Was that the team from this morning?

Was Halo with them?

Her heart beat faster.

“Sister Inez was a woman who had no understanding of how sex worked. And even less understanding of the male body. In her Spanish convent, they shielded the nuns from the sins of the flesh; even in the paintings, there were no nudes. I will never know how and why she was the chosen teacher to prepare us young women for our marital beds.” Mary reached over to take a sip from the water bottle. “So imagine, if you will, there I was in my science class taking notes as the very innocent Sister Inez presented to us the private parts of a male body and its functionality.”

Another sip, and she set the bottle down to free her hand.

“This is what Sister Inez told us about the male penis.” Mary held up a peace sign and then pointed it toward the ground. ‘A man has penises,’ she said. Two of them.” Mary tapped her middle finger. “One was for procreation.” She tapped her ring finger. “the other was for urination.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Yes, I was taught, and honestly believed, that there would be two penises when I unwrapped the male package.”

She let her head hang and shook it back and forth while the men in the room chuckled.

Raising her eyes again, she said, “I was married very early, straight out of high school.” And lest Halo was in the room. “He’s my ex- now. And I can’t say that it isn’t ultimately Sister Inez’s fault. Our sex life got off on a very bad foot. And I don’t think my then-husband ever fully recovered from the experience.” She adjusted herself on the stool. “Imagine on my wedding night, I am seeing a naked man for the very first time. I’m ready to consummate my vows.” she held the two fingers and then pointed them down. The crowd already got it and laughed long and hard. “I understood that a man would be engorged while aroused. Sister Inez said that was how a woman could tell the difference between the penis meant for procreation and the penis meant for urination, and we wouldn’t mistakenly put the peeing penis inside of us because that would lead to infections called STDs.”

The guffaws grew louder.

“There he was, my new hubby. Very happy. Very excited about what was coming next. There was me, kneeling on the bed, looking down at him. And I realized my new husband only had one penis. I was in shock.” She stopped and blinked at the audience. “Obviously, something was horribly wrong with him. Some terrible disfiguring accident that he hadn’t told me about.”

More laughter.

When Mary challenged herself to take the stand-up classes and say the things that she’d been taught not to say in public—things like sex, words like penis—it was a bit of a struggle. But when people laughed at the shared human experience, Mary had learned to really enjoy it. Connecting with an audience, receiving their energy in return that wasn’t for “other people.” It could be for her, too.

Wonder of wonders.

“And because my hubby was at full staff and ready to rock my world. I knew that whatever disfiguring horror had happened to him, he’d at least kept the penis meant for procreation. Win!” Mary held up a victory fist.

The laughs kept coming.

“Right, so there I am hunkered over, staring at his dick, and my expression had to be one of confusion. Horror even. How did this man pee? I wondered, trying to work through the situation in my mind. And I just remember looking up at him, wanting to convey sympathy, caring, and support. And so I said, “Oh, dear. I'm so so sorry. But it's gonna be OK. I’m sure this isn’t as terrible as it looks.”

The room roared with laughter.

“That’s my time.” Mary lifted the mic over her head. “Thank you for your kind reception.” She bowed, stood, and waved goodbye, turning to leave the stage, buoyed by their response.

Today had been weird, and having checked this off her to-do list, all Mary had to do was wait out the clock until midnight to get Deidre off her back.

The stage manager ran out on stage and grabbed one of her hands, dragging her back to center stage and taking the microphone from her.

Mary thought he might want her to take a second bow, but instead, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I think you all should know that Mary Williams, who just entertained you with her very funny story, happens to be the woman who scaled the pole, saving the young family in today’s Old City fire.”

Mary froze.

Recognition was absolutely something that she had not wanted to happen.

The whole audience rose to their feet. Their roar was a tsunami of energy that washed over her. Overwhelmed. Mary stood there, eyes unblinking, completely horrified to have this attention.

The spotlight swept the room so she could see the respect and gratitude.

What she saw brought her relief—a way to divest herself of this kind of attention.

The men at the back of the room, cheering her, were indeed the team that had saved her. Mary pulled the microphone to her mouth. “You are very kind. But I was merely one of a group of people trying to help. If you turn to the back of the room, ladies and gentlemen, you will see the heroic team that used their bodies to make a human ladder. My great thanks go out to each of them, as I could have done nothing alone. And without them, I would have been a victim of the fire.”

As the wave of gratitude shifted to the men, Mary wobbled toward the stairs.

And there was Halo, his hands ready to catch her.

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