Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors (63 page)

He wiped the tears away with his handkerchief. “Oh, God, how I wish you had refused me the night the angels closed their eyes."

He dropped his head between his knees and his whole body trembled as tears flowed. At last he again wiped his eyes and blew his nose. He focused his swollen red eyes on the top of the grave.

“I've met somebody, Mary. It just happened. I wasn't out looking for anyone. Her name is Jan. She's young enough to be my daughter. She's pretty, too. I guess you know that I've been impotent since ... since that night, but I've had sex with Jan. It's weird. She does it with her mouth."

In spite of his somber mood his eyes smiled. “You would have had a fit if I'd asked you to do that. It sounds dirty, vile, and vulgar, but it isn't. I have never asked her to do it. I think she does it because she wants me to have pleasure."

He smiled down at the mounded sod. “Yeah, I do it to her with my mouth, too, and my fingers. Sometimes we use a vibrator. Remember the time I wanted to try a vibrator with you? You would only let me touch your nipples with it, and instead of getting excited, they swiveled up and almost disappeared."

“Like I said, Jan is a little strange. At first, she wanted my mouth or fingers in her all the time, but now, so help me Mary, she has orgasms when I just massage her back, her legs or her tummy. At least she says she does. I believe she would be perfectly content to never do it the normal way again."

“I was so lonely without you, Mary. Jan can never replace you in my heart, but I like being with her. You remember how we used to criticize the young hippies who were shacking up together? Well, guess what. I have been shacking up with Jan for about a month now. She helps me in my business and has even taken an interest in stamp collecting. Remember how much we used to enjoy surf fishing? I haven't been surf fishing since ... you know. I mentioned it to Jan the other night and she said she'd like to try it."

“I have a couple of problems, Mary, and I don't have anyone to talk with about them. I could go to that preacher in Dot, but I don't have much to do with religion anymore. Jan hurt her leg and I felt such sympathy for her that I asked her to marry me. I really like her, Mary. I'm pretty sure I love her. Not like I love you, but I do believe there's enough room in my heart for both of you."

“I caught her by surprise. She suggested that she move in with me instead of getting married and I agreed. She hasn't mentioned it since and neither have I. I got cold feet, but not without reason. I started thinking about why Jan would be interested in me. She calls me an old fart and I really am, Mary. It suddenly dawned on me that Jan's interest began when she found out I am wealthy."

He stood and smiled down at the grave. “Yeah, believe it or not, I'm now wealthy. Remember all the harebrained schemes I tried? I wanted to be rich so badly. With every venture I tried I lost more than I made—at least until we opened the gift shop. We made a decent living from that, but we would never have gotten rich. After you died I just bummed around for a while—sold the shop and house. When I realized the money was running out, I started a little mail-order business. All I wanted was just enough to get by on. I was still thinking about killing myself in those days. Anyway, the business took off. One thing led to another. Now that Jan's involved, it won't be long before I'm a multimillionaire. How about that, Mary? Your husband finally made it. Oh, how I wish you were here to share it with me."

He sat on the grass and wrapped his arms around his knees.

“Getting back to Jan, when I realized that her interest in me picked up after I told her about my business, I hired a detective agency in Charlotte to do a background check on her. I felt guilty about it until I received their report. The woman's been a prostitute, drug addict, pusher and con artist. The report also says she has been in several lesbian relationships. Of course, she's held some legitimate jobs too. At one time she was an administrative assistant for an advertising agency and when I met her, she was a waitress. The bottom line is, she has been an evil woman most of her life, using people for all she can get out of them and then destroying them."

“My mind tells me she has set me up to do the same thing to me, but my heart tells me that she's changed, that she really cares for me. Damn it, excuse me, I love her. I don't know what to do."

“Reverend McGee, I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice,” Jan said after being announced by the church secretary.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable, Jan, and please, call me Mack. I have a thing about the title ‘Reverend.’ Nobody is worthy of being revered but Jesus."

As Jan sat on his office sofa the minister stretched out in a heavily padded chair. He reminded Jan of Abraham Lincoln without a beard.

“Let's see, Jan. I believe the last time we talked, you were working at the diner. I invited you to come to church and you told me to go fuck myself."

Jan smiled, unable to control the red flush that surfaced on her cheeks.

“Sorry about that."

“I've heard worse. What's on your mind, Jan?"

“Well, I didn't mean to open this conversation with my last statement to you, but it's as good a starting place as any. I'm not a very good person."

“Welcome to the club."

“No. Really. I'm not a good person. At this point in my life, I have many regrets. Regrets I never dreamed of having. Quite by accident, I met a very good man. I sure as hell didn't mean to, but I fell in love with him. I'm not going to pretend that his happiness is more important to me than my own, but the ridiculous thing is, his happiness is my happiness."

“My guess is that you're talking about Jake Everheart. I've heard that you moved in with him after you left the diner."

“Okay, we're living in sin. That was my idea, not his. He wanted me to marry him."

“But you're not the marrying kind. It that it?"

“No, damn it, that's not it. I do want to marry him, but he deserves better.” The tears surprised her.

Mack reached for the box of tissues he always kept handy for these occasions. “That may not be your decision to make,” he said. “Does Jake know about your past?"

“No. The one time he asked, I sidestepped the issue."

“Why don't you tell him and see what happens?"

Her eyes flashed. “Jake has a little problem he discussed with your wife. She thinks it's caused by an emotional blockage and advised him to discuss it with you. She said you used to be a counselor of some kind and highly recommended you. That's why I made this appointment, but I see now it was a mistake. You don't know shit."

“You're probably right,” he laughed. “I guess the things in your past you are now ashamed of are a bit worse that I thought. Maybe it would help if you were a little more specific."

“I'm not about to be specific.” Her eyes were still flashing, but she made no move to leave. “I've been a prostitute, a dope peddler and worse. I've done two short stretches in jail. It would kill Jake if he found out."

“Maybe—if he found out about it from somebody else—but his reaction might be different if the news came from you."

“Mack, I can't tell him."

“Does anybody in Dot know about your past?"

Jan dropped her eyes. “Yes."

“Then you must tell him."

She stood up and he followed her lead. “Thank you for your time,” she said coldly.

“You may pay the secretary on your way out."

“What?"

“My counseling fee."

“I ... I ... what do I owe you?"

“Nothing."

“I don't understand."

“My advice may be worth what it cost you, but at least think about it. Actually, I think there are two things you need to do."

“You made the first very clear. What's the second?"

“The second is far more difficult than obtaining Jake's understanding and forgiveness. You must find a way to forgive yourself."

It was one of those rare days when everything seems to go right. The weather was beautiful and the drive to Winston-Salem was uneventful, but pleasant. Susan Honneycutt quickly found the information she needed in the library of the Wake Forest University School of Law, ran into several favored professors and even ate lunch with two former classmates in the school cafeteria. She visited the Deacon Shop on campus and bought several tee shirts featuring the Demon Deacon football team which already had an impressive season by winning five of it's first seven games. Remembering the beautiful autumn foliage of the maple trees lining Highway 13, she purchased a disposable camera at the College Book Store and, reluctantly, said goodbye to the inspiring steeple of Wait Chapel on the campus quadrangle.

Driving back to Dot on Interstate 40 Susan switched off the air conditioner of the automobile and rolled down the drivers’ side window to enjoy the fresh cool autumn air. It was shortly after three o'clock when she took the Highway 13 exit.

A couple of miles down the underused narrow road she pulled to the shoulder and cut her engine. She carefully read the instructions on the disposable camera, slid out of the car and began snapping photographs. She climbed a ten-foot embankment at the side of the road and, reaching the tree line, turned and looked at the breathtaking view. The sun in the western sky glittered its light through the reds and yellows, creating a scene of beauty that Susan hoped would be captured by the inexpensive camera, and she snapped the remainder of her photographs from this vantage point.

As she carefully began her descent from the top of the bank, a pickup truck pulled in behind her car. The two occupants got out and met her.

“Looks like ya got a flat,” one of the seedy looking men said.

Susan shivered at the sight of the man. He was missing several teeth and those that remained were decayed and badly stained with tobacco juice. “No,” she replied, trying to control her voice. “I just pulled over to take some pictures of these trees."

“No, ma'am,” he drawled, pointing to the left rear tire. “You've got a flat all right."

“Goodness,” she said looking at the useless piece of rubber. “I must have picked up a nail or something when I pulled onto the shoulder. I have a cellular phone in the car. I'll call the Dot Super Save and have them send someone out,” she said as she moved toward the right front door.

“No need,” said the man. “Me and Henry'll change the tire fer you if the price is right."

Before she could decline the offer, he grabbed her neck with his massive left hand, pressing his thumb into her throat. Dropping the camera, she struggled against him, but her verbal protest came out only as a gurgle. He pressed his thumb deeper into her throat and slammed her into the side of the car.

“Them's purty lips,” he said, pressing his body against the helpless attorney while his friend grinned stupidly. He pressed his open mouth to her tightly sealed lips while groping her breasts and crotch.

She struggled again and the thumb dug in deeper. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe this was happening in broad open daylight, but she knew what she had to do. She relaxed. It always worked with Vic.

He ripped open her blouse, spilling buttons on the gravel below, pushed her bra up over her breasts and grabbed her right breast savagely.

“Them shore is purty titties, Luke,” Henry babbled.

“Open the back door of her car fer me, Henry."

“Shit Luke, if you gonna do her, take her up in them woods so's nobody'll see ya."

“That's a good idea, Henry. Don't you want a little piece ‘o this?"

“Naw. I jest want her money. You go ahead. I'll keep a lookout fer ya."

Still holding onto her neck, Luke forced Susan to walk backwards up the incline to the wooded area. One shoe came off in the roadside ditch and the other dropped off just short of the trees where she completely lost her footing.

Henry grinned as his friend dragged the nearly unconscious woman the last few feet and disappeared into the woods. He rummaged through Susan's car, taking the cash and credit cards from her purse and putting her cellular telephone in the pickup. He spat out the spent wad of tobacco and began chain-smoking cigarettes. He paced back and forth nervously.

A passing car slowed.

“Need any help?” the diver called out.

“Naw, but thanks man,” Henry shouted back.

He lit another cigarette. It's taking too long, he thought. Bitch must be giving him a hard time.

“Oh, shit,” he said aloud as he spotted the silver and black patrol car, blue lights flashing as it eased to a stop behind the pickup. He reached in the car, pulled the keys from the ignition, and kicked the camera under the car.

“Jest a little flat tire, officer,” he said as he walked to and unlocked the trunk.

“I can call for help if you need it,” the trooper said.

“Naw, but thanks.” Henry lifted the false floor of the trunk and began unscrewing the nut holding the spare tire in place. “They shore do make these spare tires little anymore, don't they?” he joked.

The trooper nodded and walked slowly around Susan's car, noting the open purse on the front seat, the buttons in the gravel, the edge of a camera under the car and a woman's shoe in the ditch. “I see two vehicles but only one person,” the trooper said to Henry.

“Yes, sir,” Henry said, putting the jack in place. “The driver said he has important business in Dot. He give me twenty dollars to change his tire and hitched a ride with another fella that stopped to help."

“Sure you don't want me to call somebody for you?"

“Naw, man. Piece ‘o cake."

The trooper went back to his car and surveyed the scene as he fastened the seatbelt. He noticed another shoe near the top of the bank and a depression in the weeds near the tree line. He pulled out onto the highway and headed towards Dot, giving Henry a salute as he passed. As soon as he was out of sight he eased to the side of the road and spoke into his microphone. “I need backup, fast."

“Shit, that was close,” Henry mumbled as he lit another cigarette. “Come on, Luke. How many times you doin’ the bitch?” He propped against the front of the pickup, but then, thinking the trooper might make a U-turn and come back, he resumed the tire changing routine.