Chapter 19 - Burnside's Ghosts

Leaving Burnside's house, Amy, Paul, and Wendy were too tired to notice that the front door stayed open a couple of inches until they drove off. The professor quietly watched the three students as they made their way down her sidewalk; Paul and Amy holding hands and Wendy close to Amy. She watched Paul open up the back passenger door for Wendy and the front one for Amy. She watched Paul get into the driver's seat and close his door. He turned on the ignition and they were gone.

The silent woman in the doorway thought about Amy for a few minutes, and about the huge break she had given her that night. Was that student really so special? Did she really deserve all the attention and chances her professor had given her? She saw something in Amy, something that set her apart, but what?

Burnside's thoughts turned to Paul. He truly loved Amy. The professor reflected that she never had a boyfriend like him. Her love of fetish and her violent temper had made any normal relationship out of reach for Ruth Burnside. Sure, she had enjoyed plenty of sexual relationships. She loved sex and always had at least one lover at all times in her life; usually more than one. But she never had experienced having a boyfriend walk her to his car, holding her hand, and opening the door for her.

She had big plans for Amy, which fortunately had not been derailed by her student’s failure to comply with the student aide contract. Still, the professor felt a pang of regret that her plans probably would force Amy to break up with Paul.

Burnside closed her front door and contemplated the mess in the living room and kitchen she had to deal with. She walked over to her coffee maker and helped herself to what was left of the coffee. The coffee tasted bitter after having sat out all night. Appropriate. Matches my mood.

Burnside took a shower and stood looking at herself in her hallway mirror. My fucking tits, she thought; God they look nasty. Just a few years ago she had been proud of her large breasts. They still looked all right in a bra or corset. But recently they had fallen. Loose, they sagged like two partially deflated water balloons, according to the woman’s critical view of herself. Her skeptical eye scanned the rest of her body. It still looked OK. But for how much longer? Menopause was staring her in the face. Two, maybe three years more at the most. Then she would look like shit. Just another single old woman. With that on her mind she crawled in bed.

She could not sleep. She was up after a few minutes, dressed in a sweatsuit. She did what she always did when she was depressed; turn on CNBC. As an economist, the lies and cheerleading coming out of CNBC and the other stock channels held a morbid fascination for her. What a bunch of bullshit, she thought. These people belong in jail, promoting stocks that could not hold their value, predicting big things for sectors of the economy that were already over-inflated.

She stared quietly at the screen, remembering her own bitter experience with “high finance”, and what happens when foresight gets in the way of profits. Dr. Ruth Burnside saw the telecommunications crash coming, long before the sector peaked. The law of supply and demand. Wasn't anyone paying attention? Too much capacity was being built, too many losses being hidden in acquisitions. Yes, she saw it all coming, and tried to warn the public. The only reward she got for trying to tell the truth was to be blacklisted from the stock channels. They wanted cheerleaders, not the truth. Yes, she had been right, but in the end it didn’t matter. Her warnings went unheard, and all those investors (the small ones, that is) lost out.

The embittered economist sipped her cold, bitter coffee as she sat listlessly before the TV, listening to the latest flood of lies spewing out. Men, especially, seemed to be real suckers for this crap. The female announcer had just the right mix of beauty and professional appearance to play to male egos. The professor felt that she could put herself in the heads of the men watching this actress pretending to be an analyst.

Yeah. They were going to be the next Rockefeller by watching CNBC.

The new economy. The new era. New technology. What total shit. The fundamentals never change; they haven't in over 500 years. Go back to the law of supply and demand. Look at history, that's where you will find the truth about the "new economy". But no one was listening.

After torturing herself with CNBC and cold coffee for an hour, Burnside noticed it was light outside. Time to walk the dog.

Old Maynard was on the back porch. The dog, named after the famous economist John Maynard Keynes, was 17, and looked it. His muzzle was white, his eyes covered with cataracts. The dog wagged his tail feebly and struggled to his feet.

Maynard, you're not looking too good today, thought Burnside. The animal seemed to perk up when he saw the leash. The dog’s owner was relieved. She had promised herself the day Maynard did not care about his walk would be the day he would have to be put to sleep.

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The professor reflected about her past as she slowly walked behind her decrepit dog. For the first time in a while her thoughts went back to her childhood. She thought about her religious, optimistic parents. They were so naive. They were suckered time and time again, with their house, with their cars, with their insurance, with their investments. No matter how many times her father was ripped off, he always seemed to maintain his faith in the goodness of humanity and the generosity of God. The family lived in poverty, not because there was no money, but because her father was such an idiot about spending it. There always seemed to be bums hanging around, asking her parents for handouts. Invariably they received what they wanted. Ruth and her sister may not have had enough to eat, but the bums always got theirs.

Ruth Burnside grew up hating many things. She hated weak people, and she hated optimists. She hated people who looked on the bright side of things, because the bright side of life was something she never experienced.

From a very early age Ruth hated her parents, a hatred that eventually expanded to everything associated with their lifestyle and beliefs. She hated their fake cheerfulness, she hated their optimism, she hated their religion. She hated her used clothes and meals of Hamburger Helper. She hated seeing the money that should have been used to make her and her sister comfortable instead go to all those fucking bums. She hated being told that God smiled upon those who made sacrifices for the less fortunate. Ruth developed a foul temper and a controlling disposition, even at an early age.

Ruth’s feelings towards her parents were more hostile contempt than actual hatred, but towards their pastor she felt nothing but pure loathing. She blamed her church for making her parents into hapless puppets who were detached from any sense of reality. The sight of that deranged man screaming at his pulpit week after week, with his eyes wide with fanatical belief and sweat pouring down his face, did much more to make Ruth into an atheist than anything she could have learned in her science classes.

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As she strolled behind Maynard, waiting for him to dump, the professor's thoughts turned to sex and S&M. Her interest in sex first began as an act of rebellion against her parents. Of course, in her household anything having to do with sexual expression was savagely condemned. The message was pounded into her and her sister constantly, not just by her parents, but also by her shrieking pastor and various Bible-study leaders.

At a very early age Ruth engaged in sexual play with other young teenagers, precisely because she knew that she was violating the most strongly-felt values of her parents and defying the most treasured beliefs of her pastor and bible-study leader. The girl’s plunge into sexual adventure was not something she drifted into; it was a decision she took on her own. Sex became Ruth’s early obsession in life. She became as fanatical about sexuality as her parents were about their religion. Ruth pursued her secret life with combination of research at the library and sexual play with her friends. She took advantage of every opportunity to find out what she could and already had picked up a surprising amount of information by the time she was only 13. Even before she finished middle school Ruth knew more about sex than most adults.

Ruth’s friends were a group of neighborhood boys, some of who were slightly older than she was. They began experimenting when the older boys reached puberty. Ruth, at age eleven, started to use the boys' interest in sex and the fact that she was the only girl in the group to control them. Ruth's increasing control over the boys was a gradual process. She learned to play on their weaknesses. The boys learned that everything with Ruth had its price. She loved forcing the boys to strip completely, sometimes in exchange for something as small as a kiss. Anything more than that had a much heavier price.

By the time she was 13, Ruth became interested in punishing her group-mates. She used her own body to bargain punishments with her friends. From the group there was one boy in particular with whom she spent her time. He let her punish him as much as she wanted. His parents were never home until after six, so Ruth and her friend spent hours at his house after school. He was the only boy in the group for whom she took off all of her clothes. She let him feel and kiss her body. She started to experiment with massaging him. Ruth's price for letting him see and touch her was that he had to lie naked on the sofa while she slapped his bottom and legs. She told him that he could not get up until she allowed him to. If he did, she would never let him see her again. She had him under her control.

Ruth's love of this fetish quickly increased. She loved the sense of control that she had over her friend. Hitting him seemed to give her power that she did not have in any other area of her life. She loved the sight of his naked adolescent body, covered with pink marks and squirming on the sofa. After a couple of months Ruth found an excuse to punish him with his father's belt. The sight of the reddish belt marks on her friend's bottom excited her even more.

Ruth's friend desperately wanted to have sex with her. Slowly she used his desire as a bargaining chip for more severe punishments. She experimented spanking him with other household items such as breadboards and bath brushes. She began to experiment with different positions, such as having him bend over a chair. She delighted in forcing him to do risky things such as streak outside around the house. A couple of times she locked him outside nude, and forced him to stand at the back door negotiating what he had to do to be let back in. Very slowly she let him do more and more with her, but the exchange was always in her favor.

Finally, after two years, Ruth let him get inside of her. After the first time she loved it. She learned at a very early age the joys of combining pleasure and pain.

The first time was on a hot summer day. Ruth and her friend decided to go out into the nearby forest park. She could tell he was desperate to have her. They walked a long way and came upon a growth of willows. Ruth suddenly remembered that willows were what you make switches out of. While her friend watched nervously, she cut some and cleaned off the bark. They found a clearing with a fallen tree lying on the ground. Suddenly she turned to him and took his hand.

"Do you still want me?"

He nodded.

"You gotta to prove it. Get your clothes off."

Ruth took hers off as well. The boy bent over the dead tree and she began switching him. The stripes on his bottom were darker than anything she had seen before. She was totally aroused. The feel of the hot sun against her own body exhilarated her even more. She grabbed his shirt and threw it on the ground. She kissed him and massaged him until he was totally hard. She lost her virginity on his shirt. The blood fascinated her, even though it was her own. She did not enjoy the pain of the first time, but she knew it got better once the first time was out of the way. She made him wear the bloody shirt on the way back.

From that point she had several sexual relationships in school. However, she did not want a normal relationship with tenderness and commitment. What she wanted was the feeling of control that always accompanied punishing her boyfriends. At that time Ruth's sister worked in a pharmacy and was able to supply her with condoms, so in high school Ruth stayed out of trouble. Taking a whipping and wearing a condom, those were to two conditions for anyone who wanted to have sex with Ruth Burnside. She was surprised how many of her classmates were desperate enough for sex to be willing to meet her two conditions.

Ruth spent much of her youth avidly studying S&M literature. When she was 16 one of her old group-mates got a job at a bookstore and was able to get her some books on S&M, both fiction and pictures. The pictures with leather interested her. She loved the black clothing and its contrast with white skin. She still could not get into the adult bookstores to see this stuff for real. She had to wait another two years. But her imagination was fired. The feeling of control, of power, that she experienced by inflicting pain on guys desperate for sex filled her fantasy life.

Ruth took full advantage of her teenage classmates' desperation for sex. She made herself available to a lot of the guys who, for whatever reason, could not have anyone else. But there was always a cost. Sex was on Ruth's terms; a few minutes of pleasure in exchange for a punishment. By this time she had collected some breadboards, bath brushes, and belts and knew how to use them to maximum effect. She knew how to dominate her lovers. More than anything else in her life she loved the sight of a 16- or 17-year old classmate on his knees, nervously looking up at her, waiting.

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As a young teenager Ruth Burnside became as obsessed with money as she was with sex. She knew that understanding money was just as important as having it, just as understanding sex was just as important as experiencing it. Ruth’s early experience with money began as soon as she entered high school, a clandestine career that gave her much more control over her daily life than her parents could have envisioned or would have granted.

An unexpected result of Ruth’s fixation with learning about the forbidden topic was that, by age 14, her research skills matched those of many college students. When she entered high school Ruth already knew how to search through card catalogues, conduct investigations, and rapidly go through shelves of books for selected information. She became an expert at locating everything from obscure medical passages about sexual intercourse to sex scenes in novels. She had to learn how to search for the information by herself, because she was not about to let the library staff know what she was looking for.

High school research projects that daunted her classmates were nothing to Ruth. Upon entering the ninth grade, she began earning illicit income by writing term papers for various classmates. She did excellent original work that was not traceable as cheating and forced her customers to take the time to learn what was in the papers they were turning in to avoid being caught. As Ruth’s reputation spread her prices went up. She had no qualms about taking advantage of a classmate’s desperate situation to extort more money, or forcing two classmates to bid against each other to get a paper. Her knowledge of plagiarism and her total contempt for people unwilling to do their own work began at a very early age.

The most important lesson Ruth learned from her high school career of writing black-market term papers was the power having money could give her. As she increased her small hoard of cash, she learned that to have money was to have choices and freedom. No longer did she have to ask her parents for anything (not that she would have gotten it anyway), because whatever she wanted she could purchase with her own cash. Apart from items she could pass off as school supplies, she couldn’t buy anything expensive-looking that her parents would see at home. However, in her school locker she kept several pairs of new shoes, some books, cosmetics, a large collection of cassette tapes and a Walkman, and other small luxuries that would have outraged her parents and pastor. Whenever she wanted to get something expensive to eat, she bought it. By the time she finished high school the only thing she needed or wanted from her parents was a place to sleep.

Ruth Burnside graduated from high school with a vast knowledge of academic topics. However, her intelligence was not reflected in her grades, because she had spent so much of her time doing other people’s work instead of her own. Her grades were slightly above average, but not outstanding and definitely not good enough to earn her any scholarships or grants. Of course, from her parents there would be no money for college. The church, the bums, and the con-artists had taken it. Like her sister before her, Ruth enlisted in the Navy and later would go to college on the GI bill.

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Just before she enlisted, Ruth celebrated her 18th birthday by touring several sex shops. She did not have enough money to buy the expensive items, but she would be in the Navy in a few weeks and then would have some income. Her ability to extract a heavy cost for sex took off when she put on her sailor's uniform. There was no shortage of desperate guys willing to do anything for a few minutes of sex in the Navy. Seaman Burnside now had money, so she could buy the leather sex toys she craved. The Navy gave her a steady supply of lovers to use them on, including a couple of officers.

Burnside reflected that it must have been in the Navy when everyone started calling her and thinking of her as Burnside instead of Ruth. Briefly, as an undergraduate, people did call her Ruth again, but she still thought of herself as Burnside, and signed all of her papers and correspondence with just her last name. By the time she entered graduate school, not many people even knew her first name.

Burnside liked the military. She liked the discipline and attitude about weakness. She liked having plenty of spending money. She liked her growing savings account. She would have stayed in had she not become pregnant. The pregnancy hit her a few months before her first contract was about to finish. She wanted an abortion, but her ship was at sea and she did not have access to a clinic until it was too late. Rather than sign up again, she returned to civilian life to wait out the pregnancy. She applied to several universities and lived off her savings until the baby was born.

She gave up the child for adoption. She had to, not because of her financial situation, but because she knew that her violent temper would make her an abusive parent. She cared for her daughter enough to know that she could not raise her. She was brutally honest about herself with the adoption agency. When her adoption counselor suggested that she seek help for controlling her anger, Burnside snapped "My temper is part of who I am. I can't fix it. That's why I'm here."

Burnside avoided sex for almost two and a half years after she had her daughter. She was disgusted with having allowed herself to become pregnant. She knew better. She punished herself by staying celibate until she finished her undergraduate degree.

Burnside's self-imposed punishment ended as soon as she had her undergraduate diploma. Her fantasies returned with a vengeance when she joined a Chicago sex group. She began to have longer-term relationships with other graduate students and professors who also were into fetish. One of her old professors, her first mentor Jim Halsey, was still her most trusted lover to this day, after nearly 20 years. Burnside started hosting small S&M parties at her apartment. Those gatherings later evolved into the elaborate parties that she currently hosted three times a year at her house.

Burnside started college two weeks after the baby was born and disappeared from her life. She took double loads of classes, getting her undergraduate degree in just two and a half years. She had her Masters Degree in a year and a half, and her Ph.D. two years later. She was obsessive about studying and good at her classes and projects. She became a student aide and quickly bullied any of the students she felt were not working to their potential. By age 27 Dr. Burnside was teaching. By age 31 she was tenured.

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The final turn in Burnside's sex life took place when she became a teaching assistant. Having taken double-loads of classes as an undergraduate and still maintaining a GPA of 3.8, she had little sympathy for undergraduates who, taking half the classes per semester that she had taken, still could not handle the material. Nearly every undergraduate who came into her office complaining about her harsh grading was there because of personal irresponsibility. Burnside learned how to question the undergraduates to get out of them the fact that they had gone to a party the night before they took a test, or how they obtained a plagiarized term paper. She loved reducing irresponsible undergraduates to tears by probing them with their own words. It was only a matter of time before Burnside's dominating of irresponsible students went a step further.

Burnside was in her final semester getting her MA degree when she punished her first student. She remembered the incident with loving detail. It started when she graded a term-paper. She already had seen this paper four times before. It seemed to be circulating between two sororities. The first time she saw the paper the TA had graded it and returned it. The second time she saw the paper, she realized that she had been tricked. She was furious, but there was nothing she could do against the first user of the paper. The second, third, and fourth times she saw the paper resulted in expulsions of the users from the university. Now was the fifth time. It seems these stupid sorority bitches don't learn. Burnside laid out copies of the second, third, and fourth versions of the paper on her desk and waited for the fifth user to show up.

The girl's name was Jessica. The offender was not the stereotypical rich-bitch that Burnside most loved to humiliate. She was blond, but naturally. Her face and figure were so stunning that even the TA was attracted to her, but she carried herself in a quiet, shy manner.

The student came in to the instructor's office shaking. The TA, with her typical severe demeanor, silently pointed at the three previous versions of the paper. Burnside began sarcastically:

"Well, Jessica, it seems you took this class three times before, under different names. You really like the class that much?"

Jessica went white. There was no way that she could argue with the three term papers on the desk, staring at her like three witnesses. Burnside waved the student’s paper in the air and laid it next to the others.

"Looks like I have copy number four for my collection. You understand what happens next, right?"

Jessica did not break down crying like the others. Her voice trembled, but she clearly was determined to get out of her situation if at all possible.

"Ruth, please. I'll do anything for you. I...can't get kicked out."

"Well, you should have thought about that before you turned in the paper. I can't help you. You did this to yourself."

"Ruth, please. Anything. I'll do anything. Whatever you want. Please give me a second chance."

"The matter is closed. You fucked up. That's the end of it."

"Ruth...I'll do anything you want. Anything."

Burnside suddenly realized what Jessica meant. She was offering herself to her TA.

Burnside opened he mouth to reject Jessica's plea yet again, but then paused. The girl was stunning and being totally submissive to her. Burnside, who liked women as well as men, was attracted to her. This was a chance to have some real fun. Why not?

While the student sat nervously watching, Burnside typed up the following on her computer for the first time:

I, __________, admit to having attempted to commit plagiarism on __________. I have read and fully understand this university's cheating policy, and am fully aware of the consequences for committing an act of plagiarism under the student code of ethics.

In lieu of disciplinary action from the university administration, I, __________, freely and willingly choose to accept the disciplinary alternative offered by my TA, Ruth Burnside. I understand that upon completion of the disciplinary alternative to Ms. Burnside's satisfaction, I will continue my coursework and no further action will be taken against me.

Signed __________.

Her heart pounding, Burnside printed the sheet and handed it to the trembling undergraduate. "OK Jessica, here's your second chance."

The TA knew what she was about to do was risky. But the temptation of Jessica was simply too much for her to resist. She told the girl to be at her apartment that night, and let her know that the "disciplinary alternative" would be physical. Jessica, overwhelmed with relief that she was not going to be kicked out of the university after all, grabbed Burnside's hand with both of hers.

"Oh Ruth, thank you! I'll do whatever it takes to make you forgive me!"

"Well, we'll see how grateful you are tonight. Remember, what happens between us will be to my satisfaction. You signed that."

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A few hours later, Jessica was standing at Burnside's door, shaking. The TA greeted her wearing regular clothes. Her habit of wearing outfits during discipline sessions only started after she bought her house.

The girl was scared. The earlier elation of avoiding expulsion had worn off. She realized that this was going to be a rough experience, when her TA picked up two sets of leather cuffs. Ruth loved the expression in the undergraduate’s face when she saw the cuffs.

"OK, get your clothes off."

Jessica shook even harder as she took off her clothes. Burnside took the clothes to her bedroom. She returned to the living room to find the girl trying to cover herself.

Burnside wrapped the cuffs around Jessica's wrists and ankles. She then clipped the offender’s hands behind her back as tears started rolling down her cheeks. She cupped one of Jessica’s breasts in her left hand, while gently brushing the tears off the girl’s cheek with the fingertips of her right hand.

"Jessica, you made you first mistake tonight by trying to cover up. I made you take off your clothes precisely because I want to see you. I am going to look at every part of your body and touch you where I want. You will spread your legs when I tell you to. You will touch me where I tell you to. When I tell you to do something, you will do it. Do you understand?"

Holding back the urge to cry, Jessica nodded. Burnside then led the student to the middle of her living room in front of her sofa.

"Stand up straight. Spread you legs."

Burnside sat down. She spent a long time looking at the naked body in front of her. Jessica forced herself to stay standing straight with every bit of her willpower. The TA then stood up and started to touch the undergraduate’s shoulders and breasts. She kissed and licked her nipples until they got hard.

Burnside reached between the girl’s legs. She ran her hand up and down the insides of her thighs. She put one hand on Jessica's bottom and ran her other hand through her pubic hair. She stroked her labia and clitoris. In spite of her fear and embarrassment, the girl became wet. Burnside rubbed her fingers back and forth soaking them with her lover's arousal. Then she held her hand to the student’s face.

"I don't want this on my hand. Clean it off."

Burnside grabbed Jessica's hair with her clean hand and pushed her fingers from the dirty hand against the girl’s mouth. Jessica licked the fingers clean. Feeling the young woman’s tongue on her fingers aroused her even more.

Burnside then took off her skirt and panties. She lay on her back on the sofa, with her legs spread wide. Jessica, her hands still behind her back, knelt in front of her TA. Burnside grabbed Jessica's hair and guided the girl's head between her legs. Jessica knew what was expected of her. Her tongue moved up and down Burnside's clitoris and vaginal opening. At first she was a bit clumsy with her tongue, but she figured it out quickly enough. Burnside's breathing quickened and she gasped as she climaxed.

Jessica's ordeal was just beginning. Burnside forced her to get up, then kneel again on the floor in the middle of the room. She took a washrag and cleaned off the student's face. Somehow not being able to clean her own face made the experience even more humiliating for the young student. Burnside knew that, and loved the girl’s expression as she began quietly crying. The TA got a couple of tissues and held them to Jessica’s nose.

"Blow your nose...there, that's a good girl."

Jessica's punishment was next. Burnside unhooked her cuffs from behind her back and re-hooked them in the front. She then took Jessica's arm and guided her back to the sofa. The TA sat down and guided the student over her lap. Jessica had a beautiful bottom. Burnside moved her hand over her lover’s trembling bottom and up and down the backs of her thighs. She slipped her hand between her bottom cheeks and moved her fingers up and down her vagina. Then, just as Jessica was about to climax, Burnside began spanking.

SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... The loud swats resonated throughout the living room. Jessica quickly started crying again, this time much louder. Burnside continued slapping until her arm began to hurt. She lost count of how many times she had swatted Jessica. By the time Burnside was finished the girl’s lovely bottom was a deep dark pink, as dark as it would have been had she been hit with a paddle. Her body was shaking with sobs.

Burnside glanced at her clock. She noticed that nearly 45 minutes had gone by since she had started spanking. No wonder her arm was so tired. She gently ran her hand over Jessica's bottom until the student stopped crying. She then slipped her hand between the girl’s legs again. After a while, Jessica parted her legs and thrust herself up. Burnside gently fondled and caressed the entire area between the girl’s bottom-hole and clitoris as she gasped and groaned. She looked up. Her eyes met those of her TA.

"Ruth! Ruth, please!"

Burnside had not counted on this. She helped Jessica sit up and kissed her. Then it was the TA who had her head between her student’s legs, making her climax. Jessica lay back on the sofa, gasping with delight, her cuffed hands grabbing Burnside's hair.

They ended up spending the night together. Burnside took her time with Jessica, in contrast with most of the guys she had slept with. Both women would remember that night for the rest of their lives.

In spite of the intense experience they shared that night, Burnside and Jessica never spent another night together. Jessica had a boyfriend and Burnside had her various lovers. Burnside always hoped that her student might come back for another session, but she never did. Still, she gave her one-time lover an A on her make-up term paper when she should have gotten a B. Jessica passed the class and moved on with her life.

Jessica was the first student out of many whom Burnside would punish for plagiarism or cheating. The professor was able to size up the students she had caught cheating, to determine who would submit to a physical punishment and who would not. So far she had stayed out of trouble with the campus administration.

Burnside never felt guilty about using cheating as a justification for satisfying her sexual desires. What was the alternative for the student? Expulsion. Being blacklisted. A wrecked life. Burnside's method ultimately was much more humane. A night of pain, and then it was over. The student could move on with his or her studies. Her method gave the student a second chance. The student code of ethics did not. Amy was not the first student that she had punished who later had ended up being one of her best.

Burnside knew most of her students hated her and were afraid of her. But, each semester, there were the few who were fiercely loyal to her. Those were the ones who kept her in teaching, when she could have pursued work in the private sector for more money.

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Ruth Burnside's thoughts returned to her daughter. She wondered if her daughter was in college now, and if so what she was studying. She wondered if her daughter would ever try to contact her. If she did, Burnside had nothing to hide. She would tell her daughter the truth about herself and why she could not keep her. She had a feeling that wherever her daughter was, she was doing great things. She would be about Amy's age right now.

Amy entered Burnside's mind again. Amy Debbs had her faults, but she was tough. She was a survivor. Burnside just recently had found out about her student’s months on the street and the overdose of her friend. She also knew that Amy's parents were dead and that she was living with that photographer. Amy had overcome all her losses and was now in college. Burnside liked that about her.

Burnside realized that Amy admired her and wanted her understanding of the world. She understood that Amy was desperate to please her, and not just for grades. There was something more to Amy's feelings about her, something much more personal. The professor saw that quite clearly tonight. It was the expression in Amy's face that caused the professor to cancel her punishment.

Suddenly Burnside realized what it was she saw in Amy. She looked into her student's face and subconsciously saw her daughter. She saw a girl she wanted to mold, to toughen, to prepare for great things in the world. Burnside was doing it the only way she knew how. Had she been able to keep and raise her own daughter, she would have been like Amy, faults and all. Amy had no parents and obviously had that gap in her life. Burnside obviously had a gap in her own life, her missing daughter. Somehow, in a weird, distorted way, Amy Debbs and Ruth Burnside were drawn to each other.

My daughter, thought Burnside. I guess losing her affected me more than I realized.

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Maynard finally dumped. His owner bent down to pick it up with a paper towel and dropped it in a paper bag. With her mission accomplished, the professor took her dog back home. Maynard had been her companion since her last year getting her Master’s degree. He would be gone in a couple of weeks at the most, along with Burnside's youth. She sensed that the dog's passing would mark the halfway point of her life. It was all downhill from here.

Burnside snapped at herself. Stop it! So you're no better than anyone else! You have 30 good years left to do something with yourself! Get your next lecture ready, for a start!

With that she sat down to review her lesson plans. Then she e-mailed a couple of co-workers to exchange information about the latest cheating scams going on. She got an e-mail back with a new website that had a bunch of papers posted from UCLA. Her e-mail acquaintance gave her a password to access the site. Burnside checked the website and looked over the list of papers. She was sure that eventually she would see some of these in her classes. Ha! She would have to tell Amy and her other student aide to be on the lookout for this newest batch of papers.

Dr. Burnside was ready for class, but still had an hour to kill before she had to be at the university. She began to clean up, starting with the dishes. Suddenly the enormity of her task dispirited her. She finished filling the dishwasher and turned it on. The rest would simply have to wait. To hell with it. She could clean up tonight.

Her depression returned. She was desperately tired, but still could not sleep. She gave up on the thought of getting any rest and got dressed for class.

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As she put on her severe dark business outfit, the professor glanced down at a very worn-out stuffed toy raccoon that was sitting by her dresser mirror. The stuffed animal seemed out of place, sitting alone on her dresser. However, in her life that toy was not out of place at all. Seeing the threadbare raccoon returned her thoughts to her childhood, and to the hatred she felt for her parents and their religion. She thought about that one Christmas, which more than any other event in her life, forged Ruth Burnside's character and personality.

Ruth was seven at the time, just about to turn eight. At that time she still believed. She still believed in Santa Claus, in God, and in Christmas. Like any other small child, she had her wish list of things that she wanted. She knew better than to hope for a lot of presents, but she had made it a point to be good all year. Certainly Santa and her parents would reward her efforts with something. Ruth's hopes rose when she saw a large number of toys and other presents in the garage. She peeked through the door when her parents and another couple from their church wrapped them. Then came Christmas Morning. Ruth was heartbroken when all she got were a couple of sweaters.

Ruth's father, beaming with happiness, gathered the family for breakfast and lectured his daughters on the joys of giving. Then the family piled into the car and drove to different charities to drop off the gifts. So that was it, the gifts were for charities, not for Ruth and her sister. As the trunk was emptied of presents Ruth's emotions went from hope, to despair, to hatred, and then to rebellion. Her child's mind asked the question, why were the charity children more important than herself and her sister? She had been good, really good, but she realized that there would be no presents for her, just the same crappy clothing. So Santa had not listened, or if he did, her father had taken her presents for the charity children. She was old enough to understand what her father's words, "the joy of sacrifice" really meant for her. The Burnside girls would sacrifice, but for her there was no joy in it. As they went from charity to charity Ruth quietly glared at the other children with hatred as they opened the presents that should have been for her.

Ruth's rebellion that day was a quiet one, but it was the first out of many secrets she would keep from her parents. When her father was not looking, she grabbed a small soft package and pushed it under her father's car seat. Later she could retrieve it and see what it was. Santa had failed her. Ruth had to help herself.

Ruth's heart pounded for the rest of the trip around the charities. Would God punish her? She was sinning. She felt the terror of religious guilt, and wondered if God would strike her down. But no, nothing happened. The Burnside family finished their distribution of presents and returned home. There would be the evening prayers, and then their meager dinner. Ruth's father spent the day blissfully unaware of the change that was taking place in his daughter's soul.

That night Ruth slipped into the garage to see what was in the package. It was a small stuffed toy raccoon. It was cute, but an average child would not have looked at it twice. She returned to her bedroom and got in bed with it, snuggling her face against the toy's soft fur. She called the raccoon "Rickster".

Rickster led a clandestine life in Ruth's bedroom. She made a bed for him out of a small cardboard box and some old washrags. Ruth wondered where Rickster could sleep and not be discovered. Finally she settled on the inside of her chest of drawers. She realized that if the bottom drawer was pulled completely out, there was just enough room for Rickster and his bed behind the drawer. At night Rickster slept with Ruth.

Ruth quit praying shortly after Rickster entered her life. She quit believing in Santa Claus. Once she was exposed to evolution in school, she was able to quit believing in God. She stopped respecting her father and stopped feeling guilty about loathing the recipients of her family's charity donations. And to think, Ruth’s entire transformation had started with the theft of a simple toy, a stuffed raccoon that probably did not even cost $ 5.00.

Over the years Rickster became more and more worn out, as Ruth lavished her attention and playtime on him. When Ruth got older Rickster went in her school backpack to bring her good luck. Rickster went into Burnside’s seabag in the Navy and to college with her. For the last 20 years he had sat in silent vigil on the professor’s dresser and had witnessed many strange things in her bedroom.

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Finally Burnside decided to sit down and torture herself with CNBC some more. The phrases of that pretty announcer and her cheerleader guests drifted through her mind...great investment opportunity...I see only great things ahead for _________ (fill in the blank)...great long term prospects...in the long run...long term...buying opportunity...invest...dynamic sector...bright future...

Old Maynard staggered into the living room, feebly wagging his tail. He shoved his nose under his owner’s hand.

Burnside half-heartedly petted her dog, thinking about his namesake, John Maynard Keynes. Long term. Long run. What shit.

John Maynard Keynes knew the correct answer. She reflected that it was Keynes who made the truest statement that ever came out of an economist.

"In the long run, we're all dead."

Chapter 20

Author's note: The original idea behind this chapter and Ruth Burnside's disillusionment with financial news channels came from a report that PBS anchor Bill Moyers did about the hyping of IPO's in 2003. The first draft of this chapter was written towards the end of that year, when the stock scandals focusing on the telecommunications industry and IPO's were at their height. However, Ruth Burnside's experiences and concerns are applicable to other financial scandals as well. Had I written this chapter during the early 1990's, I would have referenced the Savings&Loan scandal. Had I written it towards the end of the second George W. Bush administration, it would have been the housing market and real estate boom. That's precisely the point I'm trying to make, that history repeats itself with these ongoing investor booms that are based on hype and scams instead of honest reporting.