The Hopi Indians have no word for time because life occurs as it happens and the past, present, and future are all one. For some reason, I remember this junior high school term paper I received a B- on as I sit in the mess hall with my knife and fork, which have to be released at the end of my meal to guarantee the safety to myself and others. Like a child, I will not be dismissed until they know I have returned the numbered utensils.

But I sit in silence, staring at the clock on the far wall, slowly watching the second hand continue to move around and around in its effortless motion, knowing time is slipping away.

“I need my money,” snorts James, his refrigerator size body looming above me as I finish my dessert.

“Well…uh…” In that moment, I know I am in trouble. “James, buddy, I’ll get it to you next week, I promise.” His cold eyes simply look down at me; the two of us knowing there is a problem.

James shifts his eyes around the room then pulls the empty chair out in front of him and joins me.

“Then let me put it this way, I’m going to need to take out what you owe me in trade.” A small grin spread across his handsome face and down his thick neck. “Do you understand?”

His brown eyes instantly lock on mine and his smile fades, “And if you don’t let me, you’ll REALLY be sorry. I hope you realize that.”

I give him a nod, knowing the seriousness of his threat.

“8:45. Before lights out. Stop by the janitorial closet by the stairwell door. It will be unlocked. Lock it behind you. Got it?”

I simply nod and James rises from the table, moving down the rows of shifting eyes staring him down.

He wouldn’t kill me but I knew he was going to hurt me. Hell, I probably wasn’t going to sit down for several days but if my plan with Lily went as I hoped, a few sexual trades wouldn’t hurt anyone. The real possibility of freedom may be mine and like the clock on the wall, the time of my life, would continue. Just not in here.

I return my cutlery to the check out table and am cleared to leave the area. I look at the cafeteria worker and realize this woman is only here to collect a paycheck. She arrives, does her job, and leaves. A woman who sees us “crazy” people on a daily basis and yet the very thing that separates her from us is that fact she’s never gone too far--- or at least so far that no one has noticed.

I look at her hands and see chipped red nail polish. Cheap. Not very feminine, not attractive--- and suddenly I think of Hillary.

I freeze, turning back to the clock, and I realize that it’s happening right now. In this moment. Hillary is finally becoming a “she” permanently, and right now is prepping to go from my father to my new “mother.”

I ponder if Lorena Bobbit will perform the operation? I smile to myself, thinking of all the sick people in this world and they’re calling ME crazy?

The inside of the janitorial closet is damp, filled with the chemical smell of astringent cleaners and soaps. I lean against the wall in the darkness, waiting for James to arrive. I wonder if he’ll bring me a corsage?

Heavy footsteps lumber outside, moving closer, and with a rattle of keys, James opens the door.

James glances at his watch across his muscular forearm and I notice his large biceps bulging beneath his uniformed shirt.

“Turn around,” he whispers.

I face the wall as his hands clumsily reach around my waist and pull down my linen pants. His hands stroke the outside of my white briefs and I hear his breath getting heavier, exhaling across the back of my neck as he moves his hands to my crotch, then pauses, unzipping his fly.

His right hand braces against the wall as he spoons across me. I can see his large sports wristwatch in front of me. I think of time, that my time will come.

I hear him tear open a condom and I’m relieved. I can hear him stroke himself as he puts it on, realizing he’s large. I brace myself against the wall, knowing this is going to hurt.

But I want my freedom, and will do whatever I have to do to get it. I shut my eyes, feeling him press against me with great force.