Nine Minutes
Page 5
I knew for certain Moe got my pills. Moe had a friend who worked for a gynecologist, and this friend had a serious drug habit. Since Grizz made sure all the girls stayed on birth control, Moe would take her friend her drug of choice, and her friend would supply the group with pills from the stash of free samples they got regularly at the doctor’s office.
My days were routine and I was bored to tears. Strangely, though, I was no longer frightened. I don’t know why. I should’ve been. But I wasn’t required to work at the topless bar like the other girls. I wasn’t required to have sex with the guys. I wasn’t asked to cook, clean or do laundry. But I had to do something to keep myself from going crazy. I’d done chores in my own home. I decided to try to do some here just to keep busy.
That was how I learned that Damien and Lucifer were my jailers. As if the death threat to Delia and Vince hadn’t been enough. Up until that point, the dogs had left my kitten alone. They were allowed in Grizz’s room whenever they wanted. They were extremely well trained dogs and never got on the furniture. They slept on dog beds on the floor. They ate their dinner, went to the woodsy area beyond the motel to relieve themselves and pretty much came and went as they pleased.
One day I decided to mop the floor in number four. When I was finished I carried the bucket of dirty water outside, but I didn’t want to dump it where someone might walk and track it back in. So I headed for the edge of the motel grounds near the woods.
As I got closer I noticed that bordering the property was what looked like a swamp. I’d forgotten I was in the Everglades. Wait. Weren’t there alligators in the swamp? Before I could ponder that question, I’d reached the edge of the motel lawn and was lifting the bucket to pour it out. Suddenly, both dogs were there—one behind me and one to my left. I held the bucket in midair as they both got into attack stance and growled. I froze.
Oh, my gosh. They thought I was trying to leave and they were stopping me. I couldn’t believe it. How did they know to stop me there? I’d seen some of the guys go right to the edge of the lawn to pee, and the dogs never went after them.
I stood there, paralyzed with fear. Then I heard Grizz whistle to them and shout a command as he walked toward me. The dogs trotted off, happily wagging their stubby tails like they were little pups. When Grizz got to me, he took the bucket and poured it out.
“I wasn’t leaving, you know.”
“Didn’t think you were. But they did.”
“Your dogs are trained to attack me if I try to leave?”
“Not attack you. Just stop you. But see, you were smart enough to stop. Just keep stopping and it won’t be a problem.” His tone was matter of fact.
“You would want them to hurt me?”
“No, I don’t want them to hurt you, and they wouldn’t have attacked. They would’ve stopped you.”
“By attacking me?” My voice started rising, and I couldn’t control it. I realized my feelings were actually hurt. I thought Damien and Lucifer had warmed up to me. They certainly had warmed up to Gwinny, letting her swat at them and chew on the nubs of their tails. Sometimes she would even try to chew on their ears while they slept. They never flinched.
“Kit, quit overreacting. They’re also your protectors. If anyone ever so much as lifts a hand to you, they’ll kill ’em.”
“Really? They would do that?”
“Yeah. If they’d been there that night when that scumbag tried to rape you in your parents’ house, they would’ve ripped his balls off.”
My head snapped up to meet his eyes. I could see by his expression he hadn’t meant to say it.
“That was over a year ago,” I said, my heart thudding. “How did you know that? Grizz, how did you know about that guy?”
He started walking back toward the motel. I was carrying the empty bucket and trying to keep up with him. I continued to fire questions at him about how he could possibly have known about that incident. He didn’t answer. He just kept walking.
I followed him inside number four, and when I shut the door behind us, I quietly said, “Please. Please tell me.”
Grizz spun around then and stared at me, like he was trying to decide whether to tell me. We hadn’t had many conversations up until then. He didn’t talk much, and I couldn’t tell if he was going to say anything at all. The seconds ticked by. Finally, he gestured toward the couch. I sat down and put my hands in my lap. Gwinny jumped up on my shoulder and started playing with my hair. I barely noticed.
I couldn’t believe what came next.
Monster’s random abduction of me was not random at all, I learned. It was a direct order from Grizz. As far as the rest of the group knew, I was a “thank-you gift,” like Monster said.
It all started in October 1973. I was thirteen. Grizz was in my neighborhood when he saw me get off the school bus. I was in eighth grade, and the bus dropped me almost at my door.
He explained how he’d been sitting in Guido’s driveway when I passed him, walked up to my porch and let myself in the house. (Guido? He knew Guido?)
Guido’s real name was Tony Bono, and he worked for Grizz. Something with drugs. Grizz saw me and instantly wanted me. He didn’t know I was only thirteen, but when Guido told him my age, he decided on a plan. Guido was to watch me and report anything strange or unusual. It was an order, and Guido was only too happy to cooperate. He reported the Johnny Tillman incident, plus many other details about my life and my family.
As I listened, something else occurred to me.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” I asked, realization dawning. “You were the reason Matthew broke off our friendship.”
Grizz clenched his jaw, not looking at me. “He was becoming too interested in you. Have you been with him? That kid. Did you do anything with him?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We never got beyond the kiss on my porch.”
“Good thing for him.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I told him if I ever found out he touched you, I would go back and cut his balls off.”
“Why would you do that?” My cheeks were hot. “He wouldn’t have defied you. He immediately ended our friendship. So why did you still have Monster take me?”
“I couldn’t risk you being with someone else. You look a lot older than fifteen. I couldn’t chance it.”
Matthew would tell me many years later that he regretted never speaking up when I disappeared. He was certain he knew who was responsible. He apologized for not going to the police to tell them about Grizz. He said he was just a kid and he really believed the guy would come back and hurt him. I told him not to feel guilty, and I meant it.
He was right to be scared. Grizz would have gone back for him.
Now my head was spinning. I was actually dizzy from racing thoughts. Mine wasn’t an arbitrary kidnapping. It was a well-planned and carefully executed one. He then explained how my guitar got to the motel. It hurt so much to hear that Guido paid five dollars for it at one of Delia’s many garage sales—that particular sale being held shortly after my disappearance.
“So that first night when you looked at my license and laughed at my name, it was an act. You already knew my name.” It wasn’t a question.
“It wasn’t an act. I didn’t know about the ‘Love’ part.”
I now had no doubt that it was my image on their gang logo. He’d long been obsessed with me. I think I was more frightened at that realization than when I first figured out I’d been abducted.
Grizz went on to explain that after seeing me the first time he knew he would come back for me one day. That I would be his. He admitted that even with Guido keeping an eye on things, he would personally check on me once in awhile. He’d even been at Smitty’s when I was there. He’d quietly observed me for almost two years. But he insisted he was no child molester or pervert and that he’d been waiting for me to get older.
I stopped him. “But I’m still only fifteen.”
“You’re old enough. And I’m tired of waiting
.”
My head swam and I fought to keep tears at bay. “So what is my purpose for being here? Am I going to work like the other girls? How do you expect me to earn my keep? What’s going to happen to me when you get tired of me?”
Grizz eyes turned very serious. “You will never work. You will earn your keep by staying with me. And no man, I mean no man, will ever touch you. No man but me.”
So there it was: He was going to rape me. Why hadn’t he?
Before I could ask, he added, “The last man who tried to touch you paid for it. So will anyone else who comes near you.”
“The last man?” I asked. “Not Matthew, right? Please tell me you didn’t hurt Matthew.”
“The kid? Nah, I didn’t hurt him. The guy that tried to rape you.”
“Johnny Tillman?”
“Yeah, Johnny Tillman.”
“He knew my stepdad from Smitty’s. We called the police and my parents were gonna press charges, but he skipped town so fast that the police never even got to arrest him. Found his truck in front of a supermarket. Figured he hitched a ride out of town.”
The part I left out was that I felt the only reason Vince and Delia called the cops was because they were worried Tillman was going after Delia’s pot stash. Of course they didn’t tell the police that part. They just wanted him arrested so they didn’t have to worry about him showing up again. I think there was some sincere concern on their part about him trying to hurt me, but Delia’s pot stash was what they were really worried about.
Grizz looked at me then, and I read something in his expression. I knew immediately.
“He didn’t skip town, did he? Did you beat him up and chase him off? Is that what happened to him?” Shock filled me.
“No, I didn’t chase him off, but I did beat him up, and when I was done with him, he was begging for me to put him out of his misery.”
“Okay, so where is he?”
“I don’t know where he is, but I can tell you where he was.”
I rolled my eyes. “All right, so where was he?”
“About three feet from where you were tossing your dirty water.”
Chapter Nine
I’d been at the motel for about a month when Grunt told me everything that happened the night Johnny Tillman was brought to the motel. Even I felt sorry for him after hearing what happened.
It was simple and completely awful. Johnny Tillman was basically relieved of every projecting body part. His ears, his lips, his nose, even his testicles. Grizz slowly cut him to pieces until, like Grizz told me earlier, he was begging for death. Grunt wasn’t sure if he was dead or passed out from the pain. Grizz gave the order for him to be tossed into the swamp and the alligators did the rest. That was the end of Johnny Tillman.
When Grunt finished telling me the story I was numb with shock. I couldn’t believe it. Who was this person who could hack a man to pieces one day and save a kitten the next?
I’d been sitting on Grunt’s bed talking to him. He had invited me in to listen to his albums. I was a little surprised that Grizz said it was okay. He’d seemed so jealous when he asked me about Matthew and told me what he did to Johnny Tillman. I don’t know, maybe I read him wrong. Or maybe he just trusted Grunt. Nevertheless, I sat on Grunt’s bed, cross-legged, drinking the soda he had offered me. In the background The Moody Blues serenaded us with “Nights In White Satin.” It was the first time I’d been in his room, and I was really surprised. It wasn’t as fancy as Grizz’s. It actually looked like a motel room, but it was neat and clean.
The most surprising thing of all, though, was the books. Where a normal motel room might have two double beds, Grunt’s room only had the one bed, and the wall that separated the room from the bathroom had a massive bookshelf that was so full of books, you couldn’t see the wall behind it. Books took up every available space on the shelf. And they weren’t crammed in randomly, either. When he noticed I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the bookshelf, he explained they were sectioned off by genre and then alphabetized by author last name within each genre. I turned to look at him, surprised. Who was this young motorcycle guy? He told me I could borrow any book I wanted.
I noticed a chess set on a TV tray in the corner.
“You play chess?” I asked.
“Yeah, do you?”
“No, but I’d like to learn. Who do you play with?”
“I play Grizz. Sometimes Fess. But it takes too long between Fess’s visits for us to play a regular game. I have a game going now with Grizz. You want me to teach you?”
“Definitely.” Why not? I thought to myself. It could help pass the days until I could get away from here. Grunt eventually did teach me to play chess. I became good enough to occasionally beat Grizz. Grizz was a good player, and I think chess may have been his only passion aside from the gang and me. I never did beat Grunt, though.
Grunt told me all about himself that night, including how he came to be part of the gang. He told me everything I wanted to know except for one thing. His real name. It was the gang’s code: no real names.
Grunt was the youngest of three children. He was born in Miami in 1959. He was only a year older than me. He was raised in what now would be called a dysfunctional family. His father died after he was born. It was an accidental drowning. Up until that point, his mother was a housewife, and according to Grunt she was a useless waste. She resented being left with three kids to raise. Actually, two kids, since Blue wasn’t really home all that much.
She worked as a waitress at a local hot dog joint. They were famous for steaming their hot dogs in beer. After she was finished with her shift, she would hang out at the restaurant all night with her divorced girlfriends and spend her tips on beer.
She left the raising of baby Grunt to his older brother and sister. It wasn’t long before Blue was getting in trouble with the law, mostly for stealing. His sister, Karen, wasn’t much better. He remembers her locking him in his room while she had boyfriends over. She was supposed to be watching him, and he was lucky if he got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich every other day.
If it wasn’t for school lunches, he probably would’ve starved to death. His neglect didn’t go unnoticed by the neighbors, and child welfare was called in several times over the years. Sometimes they removed him from the home and placed him with a foster family.
He didn’t have a horrible experience with the foster childcare system. The problem was being pulled in and out of the system and being placed with families in different school districts. His life was constantly being uprooted.
Karen married her twenty-two-year-old boyfriend practically the day she turned eighteen and immediately applied for sole custody of Grunt. Unfortunately, it wasn’t because of her kindness and love for her little brother. He was only nine. She was under the impression she was going to get paid to keep him. What she didn’t know was that she was not applying as a foster mother; therefore, the state was not going to give her child support.
After she realized this, she tried to force him back on their mother. But by now, his mother had skipped town with an abusive alcoholic trucker she’d met at work. They never heard from her again.
Grunt didn’t know then that Blue was still very much in his life. He didn’t realize Blue was coming around and giving Karen and her husband money to provide for Grunt. Blue always came at night when Grunt was sleeping. Blue thought Karen and her husband, Nate, were nurturing their little brother, and Blue didn’t want to interfere.
It was just by chance that one night, when Blue was there with some cash for his sister, a then-ten-year-old Grunt woke up and came out to the kitchen for a drink of water.
Grunt told me he remembered the look on his big brother’s face that night. What Blue saw was a ten-year-old who looked like he was seven. Grunt was wearing only his pajama pants, and he was so thin he had to hold them up by the waistband so they wouldn’t fall off his scrawny body. But that wasn’t what Blue noticed first. Grunt’s body was covered in bruises and blisters from c
igarette burns. This was clearly a child who had been abused on a regular basis.
Karen’s first reaction was to defend herself. She said Nate was the one who hit on the kid. She never hit him. That didn’t matter to Blue. What mattered was that she never stopped Nate.
Just then, Nate got home from work. If he had been just ten minutes late it might have saved his life. That was the night Grunt witnessed his first murder. Two murders, actually. Without saying a word, Blue took out a gun and put a bullet between his sister’s eyes. Nate had turned in an attempt to run out the front door, but Blue was too quick. He put one in the back of Nate’s head before he took two steps.
He looked at his little brother and told him not to be afraid. He was going to take care of him from now on. Grunt told him he wasn’t afraid. Blue smiled and took his jacket off. He wrapped it around his little brother’s broken body and carried him out the front door.
Grunt had been with the gang at the Glades Motel since that night.
As I sat there on Grunt’s motel bed, I couldn’t believe he had shared this with me. It dawned on me that I wouldn’t be leaving here after hearing these stories of brutality, and I instantly pushed that thought to the back of my mind.
“So did you get your name, Grunt, because you were the youngest and had to do all the crappy work, the grunt jobs?”
Grunt laughed. “No. The name is a shorter version of my original nickname, when I first got here. I was little for my age, so some of the gang started calling me runt. Like the runt of the litter. As time went by, the group started noticing my smarts. Some said I was the most grown-up runt they’d ever known. I guess I wasn’t an average ten-year-old. Grown-up runt was eventually shortened to ‘Grunt.’”