Pam (10 page)

“Asshole!” Sharon raged toward Richie.

“Sharon, let’s go.” I sobbed. “I sa
w it all.”

“It ain’t what you think.” Richie stood.

“Ain’t what we think!” Sharon blasted. “We saw you with her. We saw you kissing her. Touching her.” She spun and pointed to Connie. “And you aren’t nothing but a slut.”

“Richie, I gotta go,
”
s
he said.

H
e
nodded.

Arms folded tight to her body, she hurried away, pausing only to look at me as she did.

“Talk to him,” Sharon told me, “I’ll be right back.”

I looked over my shoulder to see her heading in the same direction as Connie, but then I turned around to Richie. “How can you do this to me?”

“Do what to you? I wasn’t doing anything.” He kicked the dirt with his foot, not looking at me. He
paused
and then sighed out. “Sorry, Pammy. I am.”

“Why did you do it?”

“
Because
you don’t.” Richie shook his head.

I felt bad, really bad when he said that. “I can’t believe you put that much emphasis on it.”

“All the kids are doing it.”

“No, they aren’t. And if you think that little of me that you can’t
wait...
then I’m sorry.” I started to leave
but
he stopped me. Pulled that Richie stuff on me to get me to not be mad and forgive him.

I had to leave. I didn’t know where Sharon had gone
,
and all I kept thinking
w
as that
she
and Connie were fighting in the parking lot.

When I
got
back to my car
,
Sharon was a
lone,
waiting
by the car.

“You all right?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did you break up with him?”

“No.” I sulked and opened my car door. “I didn’t and don’t say anything.”

“Yo
ur
problem. Not mine.”

We weren’t driving very long
when we saw her walking.

“Is that her?” Sharon pointed to the girl on the street in the cheerleading uniform.

“Yeah, that’s her.” I felt a gnaw in my gut.

“Pull over.”

“What for?”

“So we can teach her a lesson.”

“Sharon, no.” I said.

“Where’s Richie?” Sharon asked. “Huh? Because uh … she’s headed into that park. Bet me they’re meeting.”

On her words, I pulled over
. Connie really wasn’t walking
into
the park. She was walking by the place that would be the new Colville community playground. The construction sign out front boasted that.

We pulled over
,
and Connie looked back. At first, she tried
to stay
cool and calm,
keeping
her
pace steady until Sharon got a
head of me and started to run for her.

That’s when Connie ran.

She didn’t scream
;
maybe she should have.

Shar
on
was fast
; she
ca
ught
Connie
,
and with a hard shoulder
clash
sailed Connie to the right and to the
ground
.

“Proud of them panties?” Sharon sneered at Connie.

Out of
breath
, I caught up to them.
“What are we doing?”

“Teaching her a lesson.”

“I’m telling,” Connie
replied
. “Don’t think I won’t call
the
cops. Or tell Richie his girlfriend is a
psycho
.”

Sharon sailed a foot into Connie’s s
ide
and did so with such force
that
Connie rolled over.

“Sharon!”

“She’s all mouth and
needs to
be taught a lesson.”
She reached down, grabbing Connie by the hair.
While she attempted to lift Connie by her
locks
,
Connie
screamed
,
and
Sharon
sailed another foot into her.

She wheezed heavily, and then Connie started to cry.

“That’s enough
,
” I told Sharon.

“If I stop now, she is going to the police.
We teach her a lesson, she won’t say anything.”

“She’s
gonna
tell either way
,
” I pleaded. Sharon still had a firm grip intertwined in Connie’s hair.

“Then what? Nothing. We’ll get a fine. But she won’t get your boyfriend anymore. Besides, we aren’t hurting her. Not really.” Without saying anymore,
her
hand holding Connie’s hair, Sharon also grabbed Connie’s sweater and pulled her into the playground construction site.

“What are we doing?”

“Shut up
,
” Sharon barked, dragging Connie.

“But …”

“Shut up!” Again, Sharon yelled at me and heaved Connie for
ward
with everything she had.

Poor Connie tried to get up
;
she got to her knees
,
and again Sharon struck her.

“I’m done.” I raised
my
hands. “I’m not doing this. Let her go.”

“I’m not doing anything. I’m done.” Sharon knelt down to Connie. “Almost.” She reached for her cheerleading skirt and pulled it.

Connie squirmed left to right, but Sharon
didn’t let
go
of
the skirt.

“Sharon
,
” I called her name.

Sharon ignored me, smacked Connie in
the
face
,
and grabbed her underwear. “Wanna show off what you have under this skirt? You’re real proud
,
h
uh?” Clenching the underwear, Sharon ripped at them.

Connie screamed and struggled, her body dragging on the ground as Sharon pulled.

Sharon prevailed. As if she
’d
won a prize she
cheerfully
waved Connie’s underwear and skirt high in the air. “Come on, let’s go.”

“We’re gonna leave her like that?”

“Why not? She was proud enough of them to show Richie. Come on, let’s go.” Sharon took off toward the car.

I looked
a
t Connie. She huddled on the ground
,
crying, he
r
body nude from the
waist
down. I could have helped her, said something, but I didn’t. I just ran to my car and left
town
with Sharon.

We never heard anything that night. Police never showed up, Richie said
nothing
. We figured we had scared her. I put it out of my
mind
,
kind
of
, until
it was on the news that she was missing. Disappeared the night of the game. I was the last to see her
,
and she was fine
then
.

The police arrested a boy. Seems like Richie was
n’t just
cheating on me, she was cheating on her boyfriend
,
and he knew
it
. Nothing ever became of it
;
he was released and she was never found.

Not until 1999.

While we didn’t have anything to do with her death, I blamed us because we left her in that construction area, alone, injured
,
and half naked.

I don’t know what she went though after we left. But I know we didn’t do it. No, wait,
I
didn’t do it.

I let Stacy know I wanted to print up that article
,
and she showed me how. I wasn’t finished searching. Not by a long shot.

The ‘on line’ thing was new and interesting and I had a lot more searching to do.

There was no phone contact information given for young Justin Perkins. Just his plea to the news and
a
number where a message could be sent. He had contacted Freedom Project
,
but they weren’t giving out Pam’s information until she, herself, gave the go ahead.

He did leave his number with them, and they were pretty
good
about not giving it out. So I
left
messages with my name.

Eventually
he called me back. I told him who I was and what I wanted. He confirmed my
identity
with Freedom Project
,
and the next thing I knew
,
he was at my office.

I applauded his cautious nature.

I asked him right away about the call screening process
.
H
e said it wasn’t his idea until
hundreds
of calls were coming into the station and
F
reedom
Project
,
claiming to be his mother or friend of his mother. Even family.

He looked like a bright young man, soft spoken and mild. I don’t really know what his father looked like, but he did resemble Pam.

His hair was short and light
,
and he looked as if he didn’t comb it. I
suppose
that was the style. I don’t know.

Still in high school, he lived twenty miles from Hartford and made the journey just before my day was done.

He explained that he
was
emancipat
ed but lived with an older aunt
whom he didn’t think was going to be around all that long.

I explained to him that I was treating his mother.

“So she does have a mental illness.”

“I am not at liberty to say.”

“But she’s seeing a psychiatrist,” Justin said.

“She’s spent eighteen years in pretty much isolation. How do you think she is?”

He nodded and looked down to his hands for a moment
,
s
omething his mother
often
did.
W
hen he looked up he made eye contact. “That’s sad.”

“What is?”

“That she spent
all
that time in that place and wasn’t guilty. I feel bad. Really bad. She lost her kids in a horrible way. Then they send her away for it.”

“I know you’re young,” I told him. “
W
hat do you know about the case
?
”

“That she was accused of killing my brother and sisters and grandmother.”

“Did you read that your
father’s
testimony
was a big
part?
”

“Yes, I did,” Justin replied.

“
He
was an eye witness.
He
said he saw he do it.”

“That’s what they say. He never said anything to me. Nothing.”

“Why do you think that is?” I asked.

Justin shrugged. “Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was so distraught that he
saw
things wrong.”

“
Why do
you want to see
your mother
?’

“Why doesn’t she want to see me?”

“I asked first.”

“Because she’s my mother. I went my whole life
thinking
she was dead. Burned up
i
n a fire.”

“Would you still want to see her if she wasn’t released?” I asked.

“Yes
,
”
h
e said firmly. “She’s my mother. She didn’t give me up on purpose. So, why doesn’t she want to see me?”

“She does,” I replied. “She’s just scared.”

“Of?”

“Couple things. Why
you wanted to see her
,
and the
fact that
your life was good without her.”

Justin laughed almost sarcastically.

“Your life wasn’
t
good?”

“What do you call good?” Justin asked. “I moved from place to place. My father never
held a job for very lon
g.
He
was an alcoholic. He brought
women ho
me constantly.
And when he was angry, he wasn’t
very
nice. I
raised
myself most of the time.
Looking back now, it’s almost as if he were wracked with guilt. Maybe I’m imagining, I don’t know, but it wasn’t a
fun life
.
”

“
I’m
sorry to hear that.”

“It is what it is
,
”
h
e said
,
matter of fact. “I want to meet my mother.
I’m all she has and she’s all I have.
Hell, we may meet and hate each other. Then again, we may meet and we may be exactly what
the
other needs. We
w
on’t know until then.”

“As a professional and your mother’s doctor, I’m suggesting
that
the visit be here or even at a coffee shop
with
me present.”

“Why?”

“I think it’ll make it easier,” I said in an ‘up’ way. “Less nervous for you both.”

He
nodded in agreement. “
That’s
fair. But can it be soon, please, I
really
want to
meet her.”

“Absolutely, I’ll
call her
this evening. I’m sure she’ll feel the same way when I tell her about you.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Now, before you go, is there anything you want to ask me about her
?
That I can tell you, of course.”

“How well do you know her?” he asked.

“Just learning her.”

With an ‘oh’ he nodded disappointedly.

“Why?”

“Well, I didn’t know if you knew anyone she knew.” Justin said. “Some lady has called three times. Doesn’t leave a number. Just a message. Asking if I’m there and then saying for me to stay away from my mother. That she was a friend of hers from the past and she had a bad feeling.”

“That sounds
rather
odd,” I commented. “That’
s it. No name?
”

“Yeah. Sharon.”

I sat back. “Sharon.”

“Do you know the name?”

I nodded, folding m
y hands an
d
bringing
them
to my chin. “The name has come up recently.”

“So my mother knows her and she knows my mother?”

“Sharon has been a part of your mother’s life for a very long time,” I replied.

“Should her warnings be heeded?” Justin asked.

“Here’s the way I see it,” I told him. “Your mother said
Sharon
got her in trouble. She also says that Sharon lied on
the stand. So I’m going to say that Sharon’s warning
may not be valid.
”

“Thank you, that’s what I thought. She probably still thinks my mom is guilty.”

I wanted to add, ‘like a lot of people’, but I refrained. “Justin, I find it very interesting that Sharon would call you. Do you know who takes the messages for you at the
station?
”

“Yeah.
O
ne secretary screens the calls.”

“Do me a favor, can you leave my
name and
number with this secretary
?
If … Sharon calls back
,
I want her to contact me. Think you can pass that along
?
”

“Absolutely, I’ll see what I can do.” Justin stood and extended his hand to me. “Thank you very much.”

I shook his hand and told him I would be in touch.
He stood and left the office, and I picked up the phone and called Pam.

There was a few second delay from her an
swer of the phone to her actual
‘hello’
;
I suppose
she was
still getting used to the phone.

“Pam, this is Desmond.”

“Who?”

“Desmond Andrews?”

“Oh,” she said
,
long and airy. “I’m sorry. I know you as Doctor Andrews.”

“What are you doing right now?” I asked.

“I’m at one of those coffee places, trying this drink you recommended. Then I’m heading back to the campus library, they’re open a couple more hours tonight. Been doing that on … line research thing. It’s wonderful.”

“Are you learning anything?”

“Aside from using a computer
,
y
es.” She paused. “You’re calling me. Is everything ok?”

“Yes, I just met with Justin.”

Silence.

“Pam?”

“I’m a little nervous about what you have to say.”

“I’d like to talk to you
.
Can you make it to my office right now?”

“Um … honestly, I was in the middle of something at the library. Can I come by tomorrow morning? The library is only open a couple more hours.”

I looked down at my watch. “Tell you what. I go by the library on my way home. I can meet you there, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, it is. I’m the computer laboratory.”

Her reference to calling it a laboratory made me laugh. But I didn’t let her know. “I’ll be there.”

I ended my call with her. I wanted to see her and talk with her. I wanted to tell her about Justin. Ask her about Sharon and maybe see what kind of research she was
d
oing.

My case with
Pam
was getting interesting
, indeed
.