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Subject: {ASSM} Boots, 3/14, (Rape, Romance)
Date: Mon, 10 Jul 2000 21:10:11 -0400
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I received far more feedback than I expected, thanks! (Though, I
really don't think I'm a "sellout bitch".) The story takes a more
gentle turn in this part. Further feedback will continue to give me a
cheap thrill. :o)
For better or worse, this is my work, so please don't post it at other
places on the net. If you want to do that, write your own stories.
Lyss mightylyssa@yahoo.com
**************
Boots (3/14)
I wake up on the table, shackled.
"She comin out of it?" Jimmy is eyeing me.
"Yes," Dr. Mark is carefully replacing a hyperdermic into his case. "I
told you it wouldn't take long."
"Damn cunt you had one hell of a dream," Jimmy laughed his guffaw. He
slapped my head and all the pain rushed back. "Now it's time for the
nightmare!"
What? Despair settled in. No God in the universe would do this too
me. My escape had only occurred in my dream, under the sedation while
they moved my position on the table. But surely I could use it! To
get free, to throw the saw, to kill Eric with the power cord.
I let loose with a long, plaintive wail as they laughed. I was
shackled securely. Flat on the table.
Eric hit my head and forced a rubber ring into my mouth. I couldn't
force it down or out, as it wedged painfully in, spreading my cheeks.
"WhooHOO!" Jimmy hooted. "Look at that open mouth! Damn I love an
open mouth! First you're gonna drink our cum, then our piss, then our
shit!!"
"GYYYRRAAARRRRGGHHH!!!" I sat up as far as the shackles would let me as
a pain thundered through my arm. I looked down at Bradley as he
crushed my middle finger in a pair of pliars. He twisted viciously.
"Told you I'd remember," he grinned.
Then he was between my legs, raping me. Thrusting violently. Blood
began to seep around his penis as he pounded in and out. More and more
blood, it was gushing against him. My head was grabbed and slammed
back. Eric was over me, thrusting himself into my mouth. I gagged and
tried to scream. I closed my eyes to the anguish. I opened them and
it was Jimmy above me, with his horrible curved penis in my throat. I
felt something moving under me and Dr. Mark was somehow there. I lay
atop him as Bradley raped my vagina and Jimmy force fed me his penis.
There was another terrible pain as my rectal muscles stretched and
ripped, Dr. Mark's penis forcing its way inside me.
They all moaned together, their voices rising and falling in unison,
dreadful. With a grunt, they all began to ejaculate, filling me with a
hot thick, sickening seed. With loud pops, they retracted from my
orifices and then Eric was there with his bat. He smashed the bat into
my legs and I heard the shin bones splinter and pop. Then the pain hit
like a tidal wave. I screamed so hard blood flew out of my torn throat
as I watched my legs being decimated. My beautiful legs. My best
feature. My ticket through soccer and track to a college education.
The shattered bones ripped outward through the skin until my legs
didn't even look like legs any longer.
I heard the power saw and Jimmy was there. Dr. Mark was now in a white
lab coat furiously pumping injection after injection into me, but the
pain could not be deadened. The right side of my body came free as
that arm was severed. I cried out to the heavens that this shouldn't
be.
With the grin of a devil, Jimmy hopped up on the table, straddling me.
He brought the saw down in a side sweep and removed my poor left
breast. Blood geysered. He paused, looking down at the ruin that was
me, his eyes wide with joy. In his eyes I could see the reflection of
my torn chest and my exposed, beating heart.
He reached for my heart, screaming, "Ellen! Ellen!"
"Ellen! Oh please Ellen!!"
I opened my eyes to my mother holding me. I gasped for breath.
Things began to swim into focus. A hospital room.
"Ellen, thank God," my father materializes at our side, holding us
both. I develop a fear that nothing is real.
"Am..." I croak out the word. My voice sounds like sandpaper. I try to
speak again but just a dry rasp.
"Here honey," mother is holding a paper cup of water to my lips. I
drink it and it disappears quickly. The cold wetness feels heavenly on
my throat. I want to ask for more, but she is already refilling the
cup. I smile.
"Ellen," Dad is watching my face and my smile makes him beam one
back. "We're so happy you're safe."
I down the next cup of water. The haze is fading now. When I awoke,
the room was all white and faded, like someone had turned up the
brightness too much. Now I begin to see clearly. It's a small
utilitarian hospital room with two beds. The other bed is vacant,
though the covers are rumpled where someone had been sleeping atop
them. Probably Mom or Dad. I look out the window and it's dark.
Night.
I think about it while Mom and Dad hug and kiss me, showering me with
pleasant statements. I fled at night. I could tell I had been asleep
more than a few hours, but it was night again.
"Did..." I swallow and smile. "Did I sleep all day?"
"Three days, honey," my mom caressed my face.
Dad has walked away and is quietly talking on the phone.
"Three days," I try to work my mind around that. I don't want to
settle on any one thought though. I'd rather let my thoughts flit
lightly from item to item because, looming over my consciousness like a
heavy black blanket, ready to fall and suffocate me, is what happened.
I smile again. I prove to myself that I can smile.
I ask about Matt, Felicia and Cyndi. Dad says they were here for one
day, but he had wanted them to return to school. I'm in Tombright
General, in Bakersfield. That's two hours from where we live. I
remember that the blindfolded trip in the van took a long time, and
then quickly push that aside.
A doctor comes in. I think of Dr. Mark and flinch. He is kind and
attentive, asking me many questions about my body. He then asks me a
series of odd questions with easy answers and plays a short memory game
with me using some cards. While this is going on, another man has come
in the room and sits in a chair. He is wearing a business suit. When
he sits, I see a gold badge on his belt and a gun under his left arm.
"Ok," the doctor, Dr. Willingham, smiles. "You're an amazing young
woman Ellen. Very strong."
"She's going to be alright?" my mom asks.
"Yes, physically, I think she's fine now. I'll have her charts and
results sent to the hospital of your choice at your home, because
she'll need some more tests in about a month. She had suffered head
trauma from... from a blow, and we were mainly worried about that. But
her thinking seems clear and fine. We'll see how her memory is in just
a moment."
"All the cuts?"
"Superficial," he shrugged. "Most were just from brush and briars.
There were a couple of deeper gashes and punctures in her feet but
those are clean and didn't even require stitching. Her shoulder was
dislocated and that was easily reset. She still has heavy bruising on
her back, but no internal injuries. Overall the main injury was
exposure and fatigue. Nothing nutrients and sleep didn't fix."
My eyes move back and forth from Dr. Willingham to Mom as they speak.
I like it how they're speaking about me as if I'm not there. Then Dad
is back beside me. He holds my hand and I squeeze it, smiling up at
him.
"Ellen, there is a policeman here who wants to ask you a few
questions. We all need to know what happened but if you're not ready,
that's fine."
The policeman in the business suit clears his throat as he gets out of
his chair. "That's true, Ellen, you need to be sure you're okay, but
I'd also like to emphasize that the quicker we get at least some
information the better."
"Ellen," Mom looked at me. "Would you prefer to talk now or later? If
you're tired-"
"I'm not tired," I rasp. "I feel pretty rested. My throat is sore
though. But I can talk."
"I'm Gerald Raney," he gently shakes my head. "I'm a detective for the
Bakersfield Police Department." He pulls out a small note pad, jots
down something, and continues, "Ellen you were found on Highway 89,
fleeing from a man who was shooting at you. The man was struck by a
passing car and killed. Who was this man?"
"Jimmy."
My parents exchanged sharp glances. Detective Raney simply wrote it
down. "Jimmy who?"
"I don't know. His name was Jimmy."
"How did you meet him?"
"He was part of the group that abducted me. A man abducted me at the
Turtle Creek mall. His name is Bradley. He took me in a van to-"
"Ok, just a moment," he was still writing.
I could feel Mother gripping my hand tightly. I smile at her. She
looks very frightened.
"Bradley abducted you at Turtle Creek. Did you know him?"
"No. Well, I had seen him the day before. We were buying boots and he
kept watching us."
Mother gasps and covers her mouth, repressing a sob.
"And he abducted you Tuesday?"
I thought. "Yes."
"How did he abduct you, Ellen?"
"Mm, I don't know. I was walking to my car, then something happened.
I woke up in his van. I was blindfolded and my arms and legs were
tied."
"Baby..." Mom dabbed tears from her face with a tissue, still holding me
with the other hand.
"Do you know where he took you?"
"No. It was a hunting cabin out in the woods. He didn't take the
blindfold off until I was in a basement they had set up."
"How many were there?"
"Four. Bradley, Jimmy, Eric and a doctor named Mark."
"How do you know he was a doctor?"
"He... he had a case with some needles and... he just did a lot of doctor
type things."
"Would you recognize all these men again? I mean other than Jimmy?"
"Yes. Eric is also dead."
"What hap-"
"I electrocuted him." I was beginning to tremble. I looked around at
nothing in particular and swallowed hard. "They were going to rape me
and torture me. They said I was the fourth. They showed me a video of
one before me. What they did to her."
Mother cried, and ran a shaking hand through my hair. Dad muttered
something I couldn't hear. His mouth was tight and his face was afraid
and angry.
I went through the ordeal then. Telling them what had happened. I
kept it matter-of-fact and carefully steered clear of emotional
context, like my fear. The detective scribbled away in his pad, then
quickly left to make some calls. I was crying again and both my
parents held me. I felt so good between them.
Later I got out of bed and walked. My feet were sore from the injuries
to my soles, but it felt good overall to walk around. My body was
incredibly stiff from being in bed so long. I ate and the hospital
food was terrible. I received a call from home and chatted with Matt
and my sisters. More warmth and love from them. I could tell already
that the support of my family would be what lifted me out of this.
That night I saw him. I had drifted off to sleep. Mom and I were
watching a Seinfeld rerun with the volume turned rather low. I woke up
and it was ending. Mom was over by a small table checking my
medication chart. Because she's a medical transcriptionist, she can
understand all that. The door to the small bathroom was open a crack
and as my eyes scanned past, a vision snapped them back.
I could see someone standing just on the other side. I could see his
eye peering out at me. I sat up in the bed and screamed, "Mom!! He's
in the bathroom!!"
Mom whirled and looked at me, her face a mask of fright and confusion.
I was pointing at the bathroom door, getting out of bed. I had to get
her out of there. She stepped over and swung the door open and he was
there. Dr. Mark. Grinning lasciviously at me as he held a long
hyperdermic. Mom wasn't looking at him! She was looking at me as she
opened the door!
"Mom, move!!" I was out of the bed and going to her.
She met me halfway, grabbing my arms and crying, "Ellen, what's
wrong!? Who!?"
I looked at her and back at the bathroom. It was empty.
"No," I whispered, cautiously going to the small room.
"Ellen, there's no one there, baby. I promise you." Mom was trying to
sound strong but she couldn't. She was afraid. Not of someone being
in the bathroom, but of what was happening to me.
I checked the bathroom. Small and empty. No other exits. I was
awake. I had not been dreaming when I saw him. That narrowed it down
to a hallucination. Great. I frowned and pulled a bit at my hair. I
didn't want to go crazy. This was so unfair. I had beaten them. I
didn't want any lingering effects.
Mom was still talking but I ignored her and climbed back into bed. I
rolled onto my side under the covers, my back to her, and curled into
almost a fetal position. I closed my eyes and quickly drifted to sleep.
The sun was bright and hot, and it felt good. I stood on the orange
concrete, the long oval of the track extending in front of me. I lean
forward again, from the hips, knees locked and allow my head to hang
between my shins. My hamstings are still tight from the week of
inactivity. I maintain that position for a full minute then raise up.
I look down the track again.
I'm ready to run. I don't really need to stretch more. But it's hard
to take that first step. Athletics, especially track, had always been
my haven. I can think and solve problems while I'm running. Just me
and my body. Stepping back into this will be going back through the
door into my normal life. So why hesitate?
I try to do what my high school psychology teacher said and sort my
feelings. Maybe I'm just scared to embrace life again because of the
threat of losing it. I bounce up and down on the balls of my feel. I
do high knee lifts. On the well tanned skin, as my thigh muscles
ripple beneath, I can see faint white marks as the scratches from the
brush fade.
"Hey Ellen."
I gasp and turn with a start. Damn me! I've got to calm down and stop
acting like a frightened deer every time someone says something. It's
Craig. A fairly well known local, he plays on the football team. I
think he's a linebacker.
"Hey, I'm sorry," he's stopped his approach and is holding his hands
out. "I-"
"No, no," I smile and shake my head, looking at the ground. People had
been going out of they're way to treat me normal, even people who had
never spoken to me before. So that in itself wasn't normal. But I
wasn't helping matters by acting so jumpy. "It's my fault. It was
quiet out here and it just scared me a little."
"Ok, cool," he smiles a broad, easy smile. His face crinkles around
his eyes. I like his smile. He puts his fingers in the pockets of his
jeans and shifts from one foot to the other as he looks at the
track. "So, ah, doing the track thing huh?"
"Well, trying to get back into it. Missed a week..." I pause as anything
that touches on the subject may cause mutual discomfort, "... you know."
He nods, his lips still conveying a friendly smile. "You're good. I
mean, I heard. You set a record at Pearl High?"
"Oh, no," A small laugh. "Our relay team set a record. I was part of
that. But, no individual records."
"Ah, I bet you smoke em," his smile broadened into a grin again and I
smiled back, biting my lower lip.
His Hilfiger tee, blue and deep red, draped his vee-shaped solid upper
body nicely. His chest broad and not too thick, his stomach a flat
plane disappearing into his Levi's. Narrow hips and what looked to be
good legs in those jeans. His long ovaled biceps were tanned and
generous. Black hair and blue eyes.
"So, listen, I haven't really met you yet so I don't want to be
forward. We're having a party at Tom Mabry's house this Friday night.
It's a jock party." He saw my brow furrow a bit, and added
quickly, "And jockettes."
He grinned.
"Atheletes?"
"Yeah, sorry," he looked down and ran his fingers through his straight
hair, pulling it back. "It's for the athletically inclined members of
our fine student body." He laughed a little.
"Cool," I nodded. "A jock party. And jockettes."
"Yeah, so I was wondering if I could take you. I mean, anyone can go
on their own, it's not like you have to have a date or anything, but I
would be happy to pick you up and take you there." He continued before
I could answer, "And, a date is really cool too. I mean, I don't even
know if you have a boyfriend, Josh Bander said you didn't, but if you
do just blow me off. It's cool."
He finished, looking at me and running his fingers through his hair
again. I began to take that as a nervous fidget of his. His face
looked a little vulnerable now, like he had hung it all out there, so
was I going to shoot him down or what?
"Yeah," I shook my head with a smile. "Yeah, sure. Sounds fun."
"Cool," his smile was back in full glory. "Cool. Ah, ok then. Well,
man, it's only Tuesday. I'll talk to you again before Friday ok?"
"Ok, sure." Another nod and another smile.
"You having lunch today?" his eyes widened again.
"Ah... yeah, I'm sure I am. I have Algebra at 11:15 but that ends at 1.
I'll probably eat then."
"Cool. You, ah, want to grab a bite at Sonic? My treat. I just love
their onion rings but I feel like such a hack sitting there by myself."
I laugh. "Ok, sure."
"Hey great! What building is your class in?"
"Murrow. I hate algebra."
"Yeah it really sucks. I hate it too. I'll meet you there at 1. What
side you usually come out of?"
"Ah, doesn't matter. I can come out on the parking lot. That'll be
easier."
"Cool," he nodded, his face very happy. "Ok."
"Ok." I smile, nodding.
"Ok. Well," we both laugh. "Look you're trying to get your runs in
and I think she wants to talk to you so I'll look forward to seeing you
at 1."
He waved and hurried off, and I turned to see who he was talking
about. Joan Mason was sitting on a small flatbed cart used for moving
the hurdles. She got up and came over. I had only met Joan once, at
our soccer team's initial meeting. She and I were the only two soccer
scholarships on the team. It was widely assumed that, despite our both
being freshmen, one of us would end up captain.
Joan was two inches shorter than me, at 5'7". She had a nice athletic
body, though a bit curvier than mine. Really nice breasts, I noticed
with envy. Long red hair, slight curls, piercing green eyes. Joan's
expression was an unwavering one. An expression that told you she was
no nonsense. When I first met her and saw that expression I had a
feeling that, talent aside, she would end up the team captain.
"Hi Joan," I smiled.
"Hi Ellen. We had our first practice yesterday."
"I know. I'm sorry, I-"
"Hey," she waved it off. "After all that shit you went through, no
one's going to fault you for missing a practice. I just saw you out
here and wanted to say hi. Get to know you a bit better."
"Oh," I nodded. "Yeah. So, practice went well?"
"This team has a long way to go. They're all out of shape. Can't
dribble, can't kick. Forget passing. You're good though. We didn't
play you in high school, but I watched you at the State tournament."
"Thanks, everyone says you're great too. You going for the captain?"
"I plan to be captain yes. It will be a lot easier if I have you at my
side. I think we can forge this team together."
I nod. That's a pretty declarative statement from her, considering she
must know I'm also a candidate.
"You still going to do track?" she looked around the field.
"Not on the team, no. I want to keep up my practice though. It helps
me a lot in soccer too."
"Yeah. So that was some shit you went through, huh?"
"Oh. Yep, pretty bad."
"I bet. Listen you need to run if you're going to get anything done
before your classes. I have my playbook from high school. A lot of
them are plays I designed. I'd really like to go over them with you.
Get your feeling on how well they'd work with this team."
"Oh," I nod quickly. "Sure."
"Great, can I come by your house tonight?"
"Oh. Ah, yes, I think so. I'll finish my homework here at the
library. I'm never able to get anything done at home." I laugh. She
smiles, watching me. "Say, 7?"
"Pure excellence. I'll see you at 7. Directions?"
I explain how to get there, with street names. It sounds pretty easy
to her.
She extends a closed fist towards me, knuckles outward. "Hang tough
sister."
I grin and put my fist out, guessing that's the thing to do. She raps
my knuckles with hers and shoots me another smile. Then she's gone.
I stand alone for a moment and breathe a smile. "Wow."
That was cool. Everyone knew about the abduction. It had been in the
newspapers on the front page. A naked girl (no one had gotten pictures
of that, thank goodness) running down the highway being chased by a man
firing a gun is pretty big news in our area. Add to that the gunmen
getting his just desserts right there on the spot, his case adjudicated
by a passing motorist, and you have quite a sensation.
But the details were not known. The media was going on leaks and
assumptions that there were two men involved. The abduction had
failed, I had escaped, one of the abductors had died, and the other was
at large. That was close enough for me. I had turned down all contact
with them for further details. I think the first reporter to contact
me had turned me off. He had come into my hospital room unannounced.
I don't want to say he "sneaked" in, because the room was certainly not
off limits to anyone. But the whole situation and his mannerisms
reeked of "sneaky" and sleazy.
I turned down his requests for information and buzzed for the nurse.
He was escorted out. I trashed his business card. What I had
experienced was nightmarish in the purest sense of the word. I wanted
it behind me. The only way I would address it would be to be sure the
other two, Bradley and Dr. Mark, were made to pay. Not to satisfy the
lurid curiousity of others.
It had concerned me, however, as I was in the hospital reading the
papers and watching the news coverage, that I would be regarded as ...
unclean. I felt unclean. It wasn't that I felt as though I had done
anything wrong, but rather unclean by association. An innocent
bystander infected with a plague of the vilest sort. If humanity were
an organism, people like those four men were a disease. And I had been
in contact with them.
But, wow. Craig had asked me out. He was cute, nice, and seemed to
have a lot of friends. My main competitor on the soccer team had come
to me with an opening greeting. I bent once more stretching my
hamstrings and, as I raised, I broke into an easy run.
Finally. I felt good again. The familiar bite of my shoes on the
coated cement surface, the muscles starting to work in my calves and
thighs, the rhythmic breathing taking hold, the first sweat breaking
out on my forehead, the breeze in my face.
I felt good again.
I showered and arrived at Algebra about 5 minutes late. I hated
walking in late, and everyone staring at me. Particularly since now
was the time for me not to draw attention to myself but to simply meld
in, becoming one of the student body. The teacher even smiled at me in
an apologetic way. I wished he would reprimand me for being late.
This had nothing to do with me being abducted a week ago. This had to
do with me taking too long to do my run and shower. I spotted an empty
seat and hurried to it, melting into the chair.
During class I kept my eyes on the book and the whiteboard but could
see in my periphery other students continually stealing glances at me.
I put myself in their shoes and decided I would probably look too. I
didn't like it, but knew it wouldn't last forever. Just had to wait
until this whole issue lost its sensationalism.
The bell rang and we all got up. I hoped to see Becky in the halls and
say hi before meeting Craig. She had come to visit me in the hospital
twice and had called every night. Becky and I had been friends since
kindergarten. She was a once in a lifetime friend. As much a sister
to me as Felicia or Cyndi. I smiled happily as I spotted her.
We met and gave a quick hug. I stepped back, peering down.
"Wearing the boots?" I giggled.
"Yeah, they rock," she grinned. "Feel great, and I look tough."
"Encountered any jungle muck?"
We laughed.
"What are you doing? Want to grab a bite?" she asked.
"Oh. I'm supposed to meet Craig Lobrano at ... well, now." Her eyes
showed a sudden million questions so I continued, "I mean, just... you
know... going to Sonic. You can come!"
That sounded wrong. But she grinned at me.
"Craig Lobrano? The football player? Woot! Look at you Ellen."
"No," I shook my head, grinning like an idiot and turning red. "Just
Sonic."
"Uh huh. No, you go to Sonic with him. I wouldn't interrupt this for
the world. Here, I'll walk with you to meet him though." She
giggled. "You've got to give details tonight though."
"Of what? The texture of the onion rings?"
"The texture of his sexsay lips," she said in a low voice, pulling me
close as we walked and smiling an evil smile.
I laughed. "His sexsay lips... I think not Becky. It's just a getting
to know each other."
"Want to get together tonight? Details like this are not given justice
over the telephone."
"Sure." I was on air. I was once again immersed back into my normal
life. If anything good could come of what happened, I think it could
be the appreciation for the little good things. "Oh! Do you know Joan
Mason?"
"Mm, that's the girl on the soccer team right? I think you told me
about her."
"Right, I told her she could come over at 7. She wants to get to know
me I think, and go over some plays she has. Want to sit in? Won't
take long I think, and then you and I can kick back."
"Mm," she frowned. "Nah, but call me after she's gone. We'll just
have to make do with a phone conversation." She punctuated this with
an exaggerated sigh.
"Okay," I laughed. We exited the Murrow Math and Sciences building
into the bright early afternoon sun. I immediately spotted Craig
standing nearby, chatting with another guy. "Oh there he is."
"No," Becky shook her head. "He is too fine Ellen. There is no way I
can let him waste himself on you. He must be mine to experience life
to the fullest."
"Away, skank," I laughed, pushing her.
"Don't push me, slut," she pushed back. "I have my combat boots."
"Oh, oh," I feigned fear as we continued our progress. "And me without
my jungle muck."
"Hey, Ellen," Craig smiled that great smile as we approached. He
nodded to Becky and I noted happily he kept his eyes on her face.
"Hi Craig, this is Becky. My eternal enemy."
He laughed, "Cool. Nice to meet you Becky." He continued to address
her but he turned his face to me, "We're just going to the Sonic... pick
up a bite..."
"Yep, yep," Becky said quickly. "I'm going to the cafeteria to eat. I
need to look over a project. Can you believe they're already giving us
projects? Hello? We, like just started this week?"
We laughed and agreed that sucked, then said goodbye.
Craig drove a red Dodge Dakota pickup that looked to be the newest
model. Nice. The truck let out it's double beep as he thumbed the
keyless entry and opened the door for me. I slid in. Yep, that new
car smell, the air inside hot from sitting in the sun all day.
Probably a graduation present from his parents.
The seat was bench. If things did progress to an actual date, and he
was nice, that would be fun to scoot over and ride next to him. For
now, however, I sat on my side, picking up his CD binder and flipping
through it as he got in.
"Yeah," his grin was there as he fired the engine, "I probably need to
update my selections there. Haven't picked up a CD in a while."
"No, cool stuff," I smiled. Smile. Grin. Smile. Grin. We were
obviously both anxious to get off on the right foot. "I really like
Collective Soul."
"Cool," he nodded, easing the truck out of the parking spot, checking
both ways. The A/C had come on full blast, and the radio had opened up
rather loud as he cranked it. He lowered the volume on the radio,
diminishing a Limp Bizkit track. He left the A/C up, which I
appreciated.
"Nice truck."
"Thanks, yeah. Don't know how long I can have it, but I'm enjoying it."
"It's not yours?"
"Yeah, it's mine. Well, it's really Southtrust's." He laughed.
Ah. Not a graduation present, but something he was trying to buy. I
liked this even better.
"Payments are high?"
"Yeah, a little over $400 a month, including insurance."
"Wow." I frowned. My Camry was $110 per month and I fretted over that.
"I got it because I was making good money over the summer. I contract
for Barnette and Sons. They do a lot of stuff from what I can tell,
but they're big into personal satellites like DirecTV and Dish
Network. I go out to their customers and do the installation."
"Cool," I settled into his seat as we leave the campus, pulling out
onto the highway. My skirt rides a little on my legs as I shift, so I
self consciously tug it down. "And that's pretty good money?"
"Yeah, and easy. I get $40 per installation. I was able to do 3
installations a day if that many were available. Problem now is, I've
got my classes and football. I think I'll skip baseball, but I can't
skip football. I can still do installations on the weekend, and I have
short class days on Tuesday and Thursday, but I doubt I'll be able to
manage it."
"That's a bummer," I nod sympathetically. I can relate to his
struggling, and admire it. He moves into a turn lane to cut across the
highway and stops at the red turn signal. He takes the engine into
neutral and relaxes.
Red light. I smile. Maybe at a further juncture we can fill these
moments with something better than awkward silence.
"Hey, Ellen, you look great by the way." He looks at me, and smiles,
his eyes asking me if that was a goofy thing to say.
I wish I had worn something better, but I'm also happy that I didn't
scuzz out and wear jeans or something. I have a fairly tight green
knit top. My breasts, though not large, are perky and my lean torso
lets them stand out. I have good shoulders and arms, feminine but
strong from my training. The neckline falls below my collarbones and
displays my brightly colored woodbead necklace. My earrings, large
flat toucans, match the bright colors. My skirt, another flower print
that I'm fond of, reaches just above my knees. I have light blue
pumps. My yellow pumps would have been better, but I lost them at a
hunting cabin with four animals.
"Thanks," I feel my cheeks flush and I look away, biting my lip and
moving my head to the music. It's retro on the radio. The Beatles are
belting out Come Together. "Better than my sweaty track gear."
"No, you looked great then too."
I broke into a toothy smile, and looked at him. "Thanks."
"Cool," he nods. "I was hoping you wouldn't think I was already coming
on too strong, like a jerk. Just wanted you to know I think you're
cool and you look great."
I can't say anything, just look out the front, grinning like a
bozo. "Light's green," I say.
On cue an angry horn flares behind us.
"Shit," he puts it in gear and moves out, across the highway. "Sorry."
I giggle, brushing a few strands of hair off of my forehead. I'm not
sure if he's apologizing for missing the light or saying "shit".
Either way, it's cute.
At the Sonic a group of his friends are there, but he pulls into a bay
on the opposite side. They are all congregated around one pickup,
sitting along the bed, eating and laughing. They all wave at him and
yell, then grow quiet, boy grins going over their faces as they see
he's not alone.
"Cool, your friends are here." I feel a bit good. I'm the center of
attention, and it's attention of a good sort. Not a macabre interest
in my recent ordeal. Or at least, I hope it's not.
"Yeah, we better stay over here. They're dogs," he laughs. "I
wouldn't take a girl in around them until she was acclimated."
I laugh, "They're that bad? And you hang out with them?"
"Well, no we're not bad. Just guys. You know."
One of them seperates from the pack and walks across towards us, moving
between the small manicured bushes. I recognize him from my high
school.
"Oh, that's Steve Jordan."
"Yeah," he nods. "You know him?"
"Mm, same high school."
Craig has lowered both of our windows, and Steve approaches his
side. "What up dawg?"
"Hey man, it's all good." Craig's voice lowers an octave now that he's
speaking to another guy. Small macho mannerisms. "You guys messin
around?"
They exchange a guy sort of handshake, palms together and thumbs
interlocked. I remember the weird little knuckle exchange with Joan
and I'm happy.
"Eatin and watchin the girls," he grins at me. "What up Ellen?"
"Hi Steve. How are you liking college?"
"Sucks." We laugh. "Why you slummin with this dawg?"
"I heard you guys were the dogs," I laugh at him.
"We are! But he's one too."
Steve and I laugh.
"Yer killin me man," Craig shakes his head, smiling good naturedly.
"Hey Ellen," Steve's face turns serious and uncomfortable, and I
cringe. "That sucks what happened... you know, but I wanted to tell you
we're all behind you."
I swallow and smile a difficult smile, "Thanks Steve."
"That really pisses us off. We all talked about it. If anyone ever
bothers you again, you call any of us and the whole football team will
go have a scrimmage with em."
Craig is looking at his lap, a bit uncomfortable.
"Ok," I nod. "Thanks."
"Ok!" he forces a smile back onto his face and backs away from the
window, jabbing an easy punch into Craig's thick arm. "You two kids be
good."
I laugh and Craig has a false smile, "Yeah, ok Steve." After Steve is
gone, he takes a very deep breath. "Well, what you want to order? My
treat, I promised."
"Oh, ah, the #2 combo. Mayo and onions only."
"Good," he smiles. "A burger girl. In as good shape as you are I was
afraid you'd be into tofu and all that."
"I like tofu," I giggle. "But burgers too. I just have to work harder
after those."
"You're winning that war," he says. He pushes the button on the big
plastic menu board and places our order.
Retro is still on and Rush is playing Tom Sawyer. I like the strong
sound. Our radio is off, but Sonic is tuned to the same station and
it's coming over their speakers.
"Listen, I don't know if I need to apologize for him bringing that up."
I jerk my face towards him, cursing myself for the jittery movement.
He continues.
"I wasn't going to say anything. I won't say anything. It's not my
business other than I know you had a tough time and if there's anything
I can do to help, I will."
"It's ok," I nod. "I mean, it's really tough to talk about, you know.
Just the memories, I guess. My mom said time heals these things."
"Yeah, no doubt. I hope they catch that other guy."
He shifts in his seat, looking like he shouldn't have even said that.
Everyone walks on eggshells around me. It's why I had been really
enjoying the brief interlude into normalcy.
"Listen, Craig. No one really says anything to me about it. I mean,
other than they're sorry or that they're supporting me. And all that's
great. But, what are people saying about me? What do they think?"
"Everything that I've heard, everyone thinks you're incredible."
This was not the answer I expected. My face showed my
puzzlement. "Why?"
"Well, I mean, from what we know you were like someone in a movie. Not
that... I mean, in a good way. Just, the kind of fight and resolve you
showed, you usually on see in movies. You fought and they couldn't...
well you beat them."
I was quiet, assimilating this. Wow. One thing I didn't want to be
was pitied, as that just worsened things. And people obviously did
pity me for having to go through the whole thing BUT they were also
thinking very positive things about me.
"Ok, thanks for letting me know. That's better than I had feared."
He nodded, drumming his fingers on his thigh. Joe Walsh and Rocky
Mountain Way had the guys across the way dancing in the pickup bed,
entertaining two girls in a small Honda next to them.
That's the way it should be, I thought. Those guys were no problem.
I'm sure they could get rowdy and I'm sure some of them were not
angels. But I didn't believe for a second the two girls in the Honda
were in danger. There's a huge difference in men acting like men,
trying to claim a woman as their own, being territorial, etc., and scum
like those at the cabin. Everyone has basic desires. What sets us
apart from animals is a moral center to decipher these desires into
right and wrong. Those men in the woods had given in to their animal
desires, which is just moral laziness. It's sometimes difficult to
recognize you can't have everything you desire. It's easy to just try
to selfishly take it anyway.
In the hospital one night Dad and I were alone in the room. We were
talking, and I could tell he was trying to get a handle on how
psychologically scarred I might be. One thing he said was, "Honey,
please remember not all men are like that." I had replied, "I know
daddy. I didn't really consider them men."
And I didn't. The same way they had tried to reduce me to "cunt", I
had seen them for what they were. Something less than human. I
remember thinking during the intial stages that the man who kidnapped
me had humanity. I had been wrong. No matter what apologists may say,
anyone who does what they did has voluntarily relinguished their
humanity. There would be no other way to silence the moral heart
inside them, crying out against what they were doing. And, with their
humanity gone, they become highly intelligent animals. The rest of us
cannot teach them. We cannot reason with them. Their way of thinking
is alien to us.
Craig has said something. I turn my head to him, looking apologetic as
I realize I've become lost in thought. "I'm sorry, I zoned out. What?"
"Yeah, cool, I do that too," he nods. He seems ever anxious to lend
approval to what I do and say. I like that. "I asked if you were
pumped for soccer?"
"Yes, I'm excited. Tonight-"
I pause as the food arrives. We divide the feast and start eating.
"Tonight, what?" he asks, munching on his chili-cheeseburger.
"Mm," I nod, washing down my own mouthful with the Coca~Cola. "Tonight
I'm getting with Joan Mason. She's on the team too."
"Yeah, I know Joan."
"You do?" I look at him, smiling, not really thinking about it. "How?"
"Same school. Same high school I mean. She..." something is going on in
his mind. Craig is one of those people that I can read easily. "...
coming over to ... I mean, for soccer stuff?"
"Yes," I smile and look off. What else would she be coming over for.
"Cool," he nods but it's almost a shrug.
"What?" I look at him.
"Huh?" he looks a bit alarmed.
Then it occurs to me what the problem must be.
"You just seem to be thinking something about Joan. Did you two date?
I'm not moving into anyone's thing here am I?"
For a moment he has a blank expression. This surprises me. Then he
kind of laughs. "Ah, no. We didn't date."
"Then what?"
He licks his lips, grinning and looking off. "I don't know if you
know, but ... or even if you care. Joan Mason likes other girls."
"Get out," I frown, going back to my burger. This doesn't really
startle or alarm me. Lots of guys have overactive imaginations about
female athletes. Wistful thinking. For some reason the thought of
lesbianism turns guys on and they try to find it where they can.
"No, really," he laughs an easy laugh. "I'm not lying."
"How do you know this?" I ask. That's always the clincher. "Did you...
see her engaging in lesbian activities?"
He laughs. "No, but it's pretty well known."
"Did she ever say she was a lesbian?"
"Not that I know of," his smile was one of resignation as he returned
to his burger. He knew where this was going.
I let it drop though. "Okay, then. I really don't know her."
"Cool, for a second I didn't know if I was wasting my time or not."
I laugh in a burst, my napkin coming up to try and catch some of the
food I spit out. I'm so embarrassed, but it's so funny. He's laughing
too.
"It's cool, that's all biodegradable."
This sends me further into giggles. I'm trying to swallow what remains
in my mouth, and I snort. I half turn away from him, covering my face,
my knees raising and my body convulses with the mirth. He's laughing
too, a slow easy laugh, and this encourages me.
Our laughter dies, and I look at him, then quickly away. We eat with
Cheshire expressions.
"So, I'm not?"
I have no idea what he's talking about. "What?"
"I'm not wasting my time?"
I blush profusely. "No."
He looks happy. "Really I'm not anyway. I mean, you're so cool to
talk with. Just that has been great. No waste of time at all."
We have to go back, as he has an installation to do and I have a class
at 2:45. Back in the campus parking lot, and I feel the difficult
first parting coming up. Where we both try to figure out what level of
intimacy we had just shared and gauge our parting on that. Do we hug?
A quick kiss? High five?
End 3/14
--
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